When the Count of Leghorn was coming to pay his first visit to Malmaison Bonaparte went into the drawing-room to see that everything was suitably prepared for his reception.  In a few minutes he returned to his cabinet and said to me, somewhat out of humour, “Bourrienne, only think of their stupidity; they had not taken down the picture representing me on the summit of the Alps pointing to Lombardy and commanding the conquest of it.  I have ordered its removal How mortifying it would have been if the Prince had seen it!”

Another picture in the drawing-room at Malmaison represented the First Consul sleeping on the snow on the summit of the Alps before the battle of Marengo.

The Count of Leghorn’s visit to Paris imparted brilliancy to the first years of the reign of Bonaparte, of whom it was at that time said, “He made kings, but would not be one!”

At the representation of AEdipus, the following expression of Philactetes was received with transport:—­

     “J’ai fait des Souverains, et n’ai pas voulu l’etre.”

     ["Monarchs I’ve made, but one I would not be.”]

The First Consul, on leaving the theatre, did not conceal his satisfaction.  He judged, from the applause with which that verse had been received, that his pamphlet was forgotten.  The manner, moreover, in which a king, crowned by his hands, had been received by the public, was no indifferent matter to him, as he expected that the people would thus again become familiar with what had been so long proscribed.

This King, who, though well received and well entertained, was in all respects a very ordinary man, departed for Italy.  I say very ordinary, not that I had an opportunity of judging of his character myself, but the First Consul told me that his capabilities were extremely limited; that he even felt repugnance to take a pen in his hand; that he never cast a thought on anything but his pleasures:  in a word, that he was a fool.

One day, after the First Consul had spent several hours in company with him and his consort, he said to me, “I am quite tired.  He is a mere automaton.  I put a number of questions to him, but he can answer none.  He is obliged to consult his wife, who makes him understand as well as she is able what he ought to say.”  The First Consul added, “The poor Prince will set off to-morrow, without knowing what he is going to do.”  I observed that it was a pity to see the happiness of the people of Tuscany entrusted to such a prince.  Bonaparte replied, “Policy requires it.  Besides, the young man is not worse than the usual run of kings.”  The Prince fully justified in Tuscany the opinion which the First Consul formed of him.