endence, 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 was his drawing-room constitution. The drawing-room as well
as every human society needs one, and a liberal one; otherwise life dies
out. Accordingly, the observance of this constitution in by-gone society
is known by the phrase savoir-vivre, and, more rigidly than anybody
else, Louis XIV. submitted himself to this code of proprieties.
Traditionally, and through education, he had consideration for others,
at least for the people around him; his courtiers becoming his guests
without ceasing to be his subjects.

There is nothing of this sort with Napoleon. He preserves nothing of the
etiquette he borrows from the old court but its rigid discipline and
its pompous parade. "The ceremonial system," says an eyewitness, "was
carried out as if it had been regulated by the tap of a drum; everything
was done, in a certain sense, 'double-quick.'[1287]... This air of
precipitation, this constant 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 simply
transmit orders.... We did not appear to them, in doing what we were
ordered to do, and we did not appear to ourselves, other than veritable
machines, all resembling, or but little short of it, the elegant gilded
arm-chairs with which the palaces of Saint-Cloud and the Tuileries had
just been embellished."

For a machine to work well it is important that the machinist should
overhaul it frequently, which this one never fails to do, especially
after a long absence. Whilst he is on his way from Tilsit, "everybody
anxiously examines his conscience to ascertain what he has done that
this rigid master will find fault with on his return. Whether spouse,
family, or grand dignitary, each is more or less disturbed; while
the Empress, who knows him better than any one, naively says, 'As
the Emperor is so happy it is certain that he will do a deal of
scolding!'"[1288] Actually, he has scarcely arrived when he gives a rude
and vigorous wrench of the bolt; and then, "satisfied at having excited
terror all around, he appears to have forgotten what has passed and
resumes the usual tenor of his life." "Through ca