e people they would
be immediately suppressed. In truth, great indulgence was shown on this
point, even after the Emperor's coronation.

The presentation of swords and muskets of honour also originated at the
Luxembourg; and this practice was, without doubt, a preparatory step to
the foundation of the Legion of Honour.

--["Armes d'honneur," decreed 25th December 1799. Muskets for
infantry, carbines for cavalry, grenades for artillery, swords for
the officers. Gouvion St. Cyr received the first sword (Thiers,
tome i. p. 126).]--

A grenadier sergeant, named Leon Aune, who had been included in the first
distribution, easily obtained permission to write to the First Consul to
thank him. Bonaparte, wishing to answer him in his own name, dictated to
me the following letter for Aune:--

I have received your letter, my brave comrade. You needed not to
have told me of your exploits, for you are the bravest grenadier in
the whole army since the death of Benezete. You received one of the
hundred sabres I distributed to the army, and all agreed you most
deserved it.

I wish very much again to see you. The War Minister sends you an
order to come to Paris.

This wheedling wonderfully favoured Bonaparte's designs. His letter to
Aune could not fail to be circulated through the army. A sergeant called
my brave comrade by the First Consul--the First General of France! Who
but a thorough Republican, the stanch friend of equality, would have done
this? This was enough to wind up the enthusiasm of the army. At the
same time it must be confessed that Bonaparte began to find the
Luxembourg too little for him, and preparations were set on foot at the
Tuileries.

Still this great step towards the re-establishment of the monarchy was to
be cautiously prepared. It was important to do away with the idea that
none but a king could occupy the palace of our ancient kings. What was
to be done? A very fine bust of Brutus had been brought from Italy.
Brutus was the destroyer of tyrants! This was the very thing; and David
was commissioned to place it in a gallery of the Tuileries. Could there
be a greater proof of the Consul's horror of tyranny?

To sleep at the Tuileries, in the bedchamber of the kings of France, was
all that Bonaparte wanted; the rest would follow in due course. He was
willing to be satisfied with establishing a principle the consequences of
which were to be afterwards deduced. Hence the aff