brusqueness, ostentation, and sarcasm, never allowing himself to use an offensive word, never making people feel their inferiority and dependence, but, on the contrary, encouraging them to express opinions, and even to converse, tolerating in conversation a semblance of equality, smiling at a repartee, playfully telling a story—such were his ways in the drawing-room. . . . Owing to education and tradition he had consideration for others, at least for the people around him, his courtiers being his guests without ceasing to be his subjects."
But Napoleon will have none of this. He borrows from the old Court "its rigid discipline, and its pompous parade;" but that is all.
"'The ceremonial system,' says an eye-witness, 'was carried out as if it had been regulated by tap of drum. Everything was done, in a certain sense, in double-quick time.'
". . . This air of precipitation, this instant anxiety which it inspires, puts an end to all comfort, all ease, all entertainment, all agreeable intercourse. There is no common bond but that of command and obedience.
"'The few individuals he singles out Savary, Duroc, Maret―keep silent and transmit orders.'"
And then comes this truly odious picture of Napoleon's Court:
"'Through calculation as well as from taste he never relaxes his state'; hence 'a mute,
