Well you know the standard of the faith even of the members of the Bonaparte family.  Two days before this Christian circle at Madame Napoleon’s, Madame de Chateaureine, with three other ladies, visited the Princesse Borghese.  Not seeing a favourite parrot they had often previously admired, they inquired what was become of it.

“Oh, the poor creature!” answered the Princess; “I have disposed of it, as well as of two of my monkeys.  The Emperor has obliged me to engage an almoner and two chaplains, and it would be too extravagant in me to keep six useless animals in my hotel.  I must now submit to hearing the disgusting howlings of my almoner instead of the entertaining chat of my parrot, and to see the awkward bows and kneelings of my chaplains instead of the amusing capering of my monkeys.  Add to this, that I am forced to transform into a chapel my elegant and tasty boudoir, on the ground-floor, where I have passed so many delicious tete-a-tetes.  Alas! what a change! what a shocking fashion, that we are now all again to be Christians!”

LETTER IX.

Paris, August, 1805.

My lord:—­Notwithstanding what was inserted in our public prints to the contrary, the reception Bonaparte experienced from his army of England in June last year, the first time he presented himself to them as an Emperor, was far from such as flattered either his vanity or views.  For the first days, some few solitary voices alone accompanied the “Vive l’Empereur!” of his generals, and of his aides-de-camp.  This indifference, or, as he called it, mutinous spirit, was so much the more provoking as it was unexpected.  He did not, as usual, ascribe it to the emissaries or gold of England, but to the secret adherents of Pichegru and Moreau amongst the brigades or divisions that had served under these unfortunate generals.  He ordered, in consequence, his Minister Berthier to make out a list of all these corps.  Having obtained this, he separated them by ordering some to Italy, others to Holland, and the rest to the frontiers of Spain and Germany.  This act of revenge or jealousy was regarded, both by the officers and men, as a disgrace and as a doubt thrown out against their fidelity, and the murmur was loud and general.  In consequence of this, some men were shot, and many more arrested.

Observing, however, that severity had not the desired effect, Bonaparte suddenly changed his conduct, released the imprisoned, and rewarded with the crosses of his Legion of Honour every member of the so lately suspected troops who had ever performed any brilliant or valorous exploits under the proscribed generals.  He even incorporated among his own bodyguards and guides men who had served in the same capacity under these rival commanders, and numbers of their children were received in the Prytanees and military free schools.  The enthusiastic exclamation that soon greeted his ears convinced him that he had struck upon the right string of his soldiers’ hearts.  Men who, some few days before, wanted only the signal of a leader to cut an Emperor they hated to pieces, would now have contended who should be foremost to shed their last drop of blood for a chief they adored.