became assured in the same way as
Madame de Stael that she would one day be raised to heights of glory
unequalled in history, and the disappointment embittered her. She
admits that she "suffered on account of blighted hopes and deceived
affections and the failure of her calculations." Moreover, Josephine
had an eye on the lady whose husband in evil times sought her
influence with Napoleon to stretch out a helping hand and save them
from the poverty by which they were beset. Napoleon's big heart
spontaneously responded to the appeal of his fascinating spouse, the
result being that favours were heaped upon M. de Remusat and his wife
from time to time, and Josephine's goodness was repaid by seeing
Madame in feline fashion purring at her Imperial master's affections,
and on the authority of Madame de Remusat she "becomes cold and
jealous." Finding that Napoleon did not appreciate her love-making,
she, like Madame de Stael under similar circumstances, took to
intriguing, which got her quickly into disgrace. She is anxious to
make her fall as light as possible in the public eye, so relates that
he told her that "his desire was to make her a great lady, but he
could not be expected to do this unless she showed devotion." But in
spite of the wife's defection, as is always Napoleon's way, he does
not visit her sins on the husband, but raises him to the important
posts of Grand Master of the Robes, High Chamberlain, and then
Superintendent of Theatres, and in addition gave him large sums to
keep up his status, and notwithstanding Josephine's cause for "cold
jealousy," Madame de Remusat was generously kept in her service after
Marie Louise had become Empress. M. de Remusat remained in the
Emperor's service until the fall of the Empire, and then went over to
Louis XVIII. Both of these sycophants were content to accept the
favours of the Imperial couple and eat their bread and cringe at their
feet while they plotted with the plotters for the Emperor's downfall.

Unhappily for the veracity and probity of Madame Remusat as a history
writer, her letters containing notes jotted down day by day as they
occurred have been published, and the memoirs put side by side with
these throbbings of the heart reveal an incomparable baseness that
makes one wonder at the reckless, blind partisanship which induced her
descendants to give the memoirs to an intelligent public.

In the memoirs she says:--"Nothing is so base as his soul; it is
closed ag