Bonaparte himself looked at the affair on its bright side; he had enjoyed the opera; he had laughed; he was satisfied, and consequently he overlooked the deceitful surprise.

“Conquer me always in this manner!” said he, laughing, to Mehul, “and I shall enjoy both your fame and my amusement.”

The friends of Cherubini thought of this little event when the question arose as to the appointment to the situation of first singer at the Grand Opera, and they therefore did not hesitate to wager that Cherubini would be appointed, since he was an Italian.

But they knew not that Bonaparte had pardoned Mehul, and frequently joked with him, whilst he ever grumbled at Cherubini on account of an expression which the latter had once allowed himself to use against General Bonaparte.

Bonaparte had conversed with Cherubini after a representation of one of his operas, and, while he congratulated him, he however added that this opera did not please him as much as the other pieces of Cherubini—­that he thought it somewhat sober and scientific, and that he missed in it the accustomed richness of the maestro’s melodies.  This criticism wounded Cherubini as if pierced by a dagger, and with the irritable vehemence of an Italian he replied: 

“General, busy yourself in winning battles—­that is your trade; but leave me to practise mine, about which you know nothing.”

The Consul Bonaparte had neither forgotten nor pardoned Cherubini’s answer; and, despite his fondness for Italian music, he was resolved to give to Mehul the position vacated by Paesiello.

Josephine approved entirely of this choice, and, in order to witness Mehul’s joy, she invited him to Malmaison, that the consul might there inform him of his appointment.  How great, however, was her and Bonaparte’s surprise, when Mehul, instead of being delighted with this distinguished appointment, positively refused to accept it!

“I can accept this position only under one condition,” said Mehul, “which is, that I may be allowed to divide it with my friend Cherubini.”

“Do not speak to me about him,” exclaimed Bonaparte, with animation; “he is a coarse man, and I cannot tolerate him.”

“He may have had the misfortune to displease you,” replied Mehul, eagerly, “but he is a master to us all, and especially as regards sacred music.  He now is in a very inferior position; he has a large family, and I sincerely desire to reconcile him to you.”

“I repeat to you that I do not wish to know any thing about him.”

“In that case I must decline the position,” said Mehul, gravely, “and nothing will alter my resolution.  I am a member of the Institute—­Cherubini is not; I do not wish it to be said that I have misused the good-will with which you honor me for the sake of confiscating to my profit every situation, and of despoiling a man of reputation of the reward to which he is most justly entitled.”