soon a heated discussion arose between him and the Emperor.  From words they were about to come to blows, when the Emperor thought it was time to make himself known.  The soldier’s confusion was indescribable.  He had almost struck the Emperor.  He threw himself at his Majesty’s feet, begging his pardon, which was most readily granted.  “It was I who was in the wrong,” said the Emperor; “I was obstinate.  I bear you no illwill; rise and let your mind be at rest, both now and in the future.”

The Emperor, having made inquiries concerning this soldier, learned that he was a good fellow, and not unintelligent.  On the next promotion he was made sub-lieutenant.  It is impossible to give an idea of the effect of such occurrences on the army.  They were a constant subject of conversation with the soldiers, and stimulated them inexpressibly.  The one who enjoyed the greatest distinction in his company was he of whom it could be said:  “The Emperor has spoken to him.”

At the battle of Essling the brave General Daleim, commanding a division of the fourth corps, found himself during the hottest part of the action at a spot swept by the enemy’s artillery.  The Emperor, passing near him, said:  “It is warm in your locality!”—­“Yes, Sire; permit me to extinguish the fire.”—­“Go.”  This one word sufficed; in the twinkling of an eye the terrible battery was taken.  In the evening the Emperor, seeing General Daleim, approached him, and said, “It seems you only had to blow on it.”  His Majesty alluded General Daleim’s habit of incessant whistling.

Among the brave general officers around the Emperor, a few were not highly educated, though their other fine qualities recommended them; some were celebrated for other reasons than their military merit.  Thus General Junot and General Fournier were known as the best pistol shots; General Lasellette was famous for his love of music, which he indulged to such an extent as to have a piano always in one of his baggage wagons.  This general drank only water; but, on the contrary, it was very different with General Bisson.  Who has not heard of the hardest drinker in all the army?  One day the Emperor, meeting him at Berlin, said to him, “Well, Bisson, do you still drink much?”—­“Moderately, Sire; not more than twenty-five bottles.”  This was, in fact, a great improvement, for he had more than once reached the number of forty without being made tipsy.  Moreover, with General Bisson it was not a vice, but an imperious need.  The Emperor knowing this, and being much attached to him, allowed him a pension of twelve thousand francs out of his privy purse, and gave him besides frequent presents.