Bourrienne ventured to warn Josephine, and to call her attention to this, that she might not so strongly plead before Bonaparte for the Count de Lille, but Josephine answered him with a sad smile:  “I wish I could persuade him to call back the king, lest he himself may have the idea of becoming such; for the fear that he may do this always awakens in me a foreboding of evil, which I cannot banish from my mind.” [Footnote:  Bourrienne, vol. iv., p. 108.]

But until the king was really recalled by the first consul, Josephine had to be pleased to assume the place of queen in the Tuileries, and to accept the homage which France and soon all Europe brought to her.  For now that the republic was firmly established, and had made peace with the foreign powers, they sent their ambassadors to the republic, and were received in the name of France by the first consul and his wife.

It was indeed an important and significant moment when Josephine for the first time in her apartments received the ambassadors of the foreign powers.  It is true no one called this “to give audience;” no one spoke yet in genuine courtier’s style of “great levee” or “little levee;” the appellation of “madame” was yet in use, and there was no court-marshal, no maids of honor, no chamberlains of the palace.  But the substance was the same, and, instead of the high court-marshal, it was Talleyrand, the secretary for foreign affairs, who introduced to Josephine the ambassadors, and who called their names.

This introduction of the ambassadors was the first grand ceremony which, since the revolution, had taken place in the Tuileries.  With exquisite tact, Josephine had carefully avoided at this festivity any pomp, any luxury of toilet.  In a plain white muslin dress, her beautiful brown hair bound up in a string of white pearls, and holding Talleyrand’s hand, she entered the great reception hall, in which the foreign ambassadors, the generals, and the high dignitaries of the republic were gathered.  She came without pretension or ostentation, but at her appearance a murmur of admiration ran through the company, and brought on her cheeks the timid blush of a young maiden.  With the assurance of an accomplished lady of the world she received the salutations of the ambassadors, knew how to speak to each a gracious word, how to entertain them, not with those worn-out, stereotyped phrases customary at royal presentations, but in an interesting, intellectual manner, which at once opened the way to an exciting, witty, and unaffected conversation.

Every one was enchanted with her, and from this day not only the French aristocracy, but all distinguished foreigners who came to Paris, were anxious to obtain the honor of a reception in the drawing-room of the wife of the first consul; from this day Josephine was the admiration of Europe, as she had already been that of France and Italy.  As the wife of the first consul of France she could be observed and noticed