During this month and the following I noticed constantly passing, repassing, and holding frequent interviews with the First Consul, many persons whom I was told were members of the council of state, tribunes, or senators.  For a long time the army and a great number of citizens, who idolized the hero of Italy and Egypt, had manifested openly their desire to see him wear a title worthy of his renown and the greatness of France.  It was well known, also, that he alone performed all the duties of government, and that his nominal colleagues were really his subordinates.  It was thought proper, therefore, that he should become supreme head of the state in name, as he already was in fact.  I have often since his fall heard his Majesty called an usurper:  but the only effect of this on me is to provoke a smile of pity; for if the Emperor usurped the throne, he had more accomplices than all the tyrants of tragedy and melodrama combined, for three-fourths of the French people were in the conspiracy.  As is well known, it was on May 18 that the Empire was proclaimed, and the First Consul (whom I shall henceforward call the Emperor) received at Saint-Cloud the Senate, led by Consul Cambaceres, who became, a few hours later, arch-chancellor of the Empire; and it was by him that the Emperor heard himself for the first time saluted with the title of Sire.  After this audience the Senate went to present its homage to the Empress Josephine.  The rest of the day was passed in receptions, presentations, interviews, and congratulations; everybody in the chateau was drunk with joy; each one felt that he had been suddenly promoted in rank, so they embraced each other, exchanged compliments, and confided to each other hopes and plans for the future.  There was no subaltern too humble to be inspired with ambition; in a word, the antechamber, saving the difference of persons, furnished an exact repetition of what passed in the saloon.  Nothing could be more amusing than the embarrassment of the whole service when it was necessary to reply to his Majesty’s questions.  They would begin with a mistake, then would try again, and do worse, saying ten times in the same minute, “Sire, general, your Majesty, citizen, First Consul.”  The next morning on entering as usual the First Consul’s room, to his customary questions, “What o’clock is it?  What is the weather?” I replied, “Sire, seven o’clock; fine weather.”  As I approached his bed, he seized me by the ear, and slapped me on the cheek, calling me “Monsieur le drole,” which was his favorite expression when especially pleased with me.  His Majesty had kept awake, and worked late into the night, and I found him serious and preoccupied, but well satisfied.  How different this awakening to that of the 21st of March preceding!  On this day his Majesty went to hold his first grand levee at the Tuileries, where all the civil and military authorities were presented to him.  The brothers and sisters of the Emperor were made princes and princesses, with the exception