stitute
the rank which they formerly possessed as academies. He placed the class
of sciences in the first rank, and the old French Academy in the second
rank. It must be acknowledged that, considering the state of literature
and science at that period, the First Consul did not make a wrong
estimate of their importance.

Although the literature of France could boast of many men of great
talent, such as La Harpe, who died during the Consulate, Ducis, Bernardin
de Saint-Pierre, Chenier, and Lemercier, yet they could not be compared
with Lagrange, Laplace, Monge, Fourcroy, Berthollet, and Cuvier, whose
labours have so prodigiously extended the limits of human knowledge. No
one, therefore, could murmur at seeing the class of sciences in the
Institute take precedence of its elder sister. Besides, the First Consul
was not sorry to show, by this arrangement, the slight estimation in
which he held literary men. When he spoke to me respecting them he
called them mere manufacturers of phrases. He could not pardon them for
excelling him in a pursuit in which he had no claim to distinction.
I never knew a man more insensible than Bonaparte to the beauties of
poetry or prose. A certain degree of vagueness, which was combined with
his energy of mind, led him to admire the dreams of Ossian, and his
decided character found itself, as it were, represented in the elevated
thoughts of Corneille. Hence his almost exclusive predilection for these
two authors With this exception, the finest works in our literature were
in his opinion merely arrangements of sonorous words, void of sense, and
calculated only for the ear.

Bonaparte's contempt, or, more properly speaking, his dislike of
literature, displayed itself particularly in the feeling he cherished
towards some men of distinguished literary talent. He hated Chenier, and
Ducis still more. He could not forgive Chenier for the Republican
principles which pervaded his tragedies; and Ducis excited in him; as if
instinctively, an involuntary hatred. Ducis, on his part, was not
backward in returning the Consul's animosity, and I remember his writing
some verses which were inexcusably violent, and overstepped all the
bounds of truth. Bonaparte was so singular a composition of good and bad
that to describe him as he was under one or other of these aspects would
serve for panegyric or satire without any departure from truth.
Bonaparte was very fond of Bernardin Saint-Pierre's romance of 'Paul and