of such lofty and undisputed lineage were joining what was apparently
an irresistible movement, the recusant nobility of France itself could
not well stand aloof any longer. It amused and interested the Emperor
to see them obey Fouche's hint, and throng to be introduced in the
correct way to the new and undisputed sovereign, not merely of France,
but of western Europe.

Moreover, they were no longer impertinent. They remembered the fate
meted out to Mme. de Stael for her solemn innuendos, and did not
forget that the last item in the indictment on which Mme. de Chevreuse
had been banished was a snippish remark to Napoleon's face. Astonished
at the splendor of her diamonds, he had in his own court clumsily
asked if they were all real. "Indeed, sire, I do not know," she
replied; "but they are good enough to wear here." In consequence,
therefore, of this new and now well-intentioned element the court
swelled in numbers and gained in grace, but not in joyousness. The
Empress was already foreboding her fate; there was the stiffness of
inaptitude about everything, even the amusement, and the languid
weariness of the ladies was an unforgiven imperial sin. The quick wit
of the Emperor remarked this annoying fact, and demanded counsel of
Talleyrand. The Prince of Benevento had by this time resigned his
position as minister, and the relations between himself and the
Emperor were strained, but he was not rebuked when he ventured on the
old license of speech. "It is because pleasure will not move at the
drum-tap," was his answer, "and you look as if you would command every
one just as you do the army: 'Ladies and gentlemen, forward march!'"

Talleyrand's numberless intrigues, his venality and self-seeking, his
cynicism and contemptuous airs, had finally destroyed his
preponderance with Napoleon, although he still retained much
influence. No one was better aware of the fact than he was. Thus far
he had reckoned himself an indispensable factor in the administration
of the Empire; now he saw that he was so no longer, that his time had
come.

He had a sterile mind, and was destitute of principle. Constructive
politics were beyond his powers, and he was hopelessly ignorant of
social movements. The real Europe of his time was to him a closed
book; and while Napoleon was well served in every other function of
state, because he himself could assist and supervise, he was
wretchedly betrayed in the matter of permanent gains by diplomacy,