In the course of our subsequent conversation, the Emperor could not sufficiently express his surprise at the conviction, which he had obtained, that several of those who surrounded him and formed his Court, believed the greatest part of the many absurdities and idle reports which had been circulated respecting himself, and that they even went so far as to doubt the falsehood of the enormities with which his reputation had been stained.—Thus we believed that he wore armour in the midst of us—was addicted to the superstition of presentiments and fatality—subject to fits of madness or of epilepsy—that he had strangled Pichegru—caused a poor English captain’s throat to be cut, &c. We could not but admit that his invective against us on the occasion was merited; all we could allege in our defence was that many circumstances had concurred to leave those who formerly surrounded his person as much in ignorance on the subject as the bulk of the nation could be. We frequently saw him, I said, but we never held any communication with him: every thing remained a mystery for us. Not a voice was raised to refute, whilst many in secret, and some that were nearest to his person, either through perverseness, or with bad intentions, seemed ever busy in dealing out insinuations. As for myself, I candidly confessed that I had not formed a just idea of his disposition before I came here, although I could congratulate myself that I had certainly guessed him in part. “And yet,” he observed in reply, “you have often seen me and heard me in the Council of State.”
In the evening, after dinner, the conversation turned upon religion. The Emperor dwelt on the subject at length. The following is a faithful summary of his arguments; I give it as being quite characteristic upon a point which has probably often excited the curiosity of many.
The Emperor, after having spoken for some time with warmth and animation, said: “Every thing proclaims the existence of a God, that cannot be questioned; but all our religions are evidently the work of men. Why are there so many?—Why has ours not always existed?—Why does it consider itself exclusively the right one?—What becomes in that case of all the virtuous men who have gone before us?—Why do these religions revile, oppose, exterminate one another?—Why has this been the case ever and every where?—Because men are ever men; because priests have ever and every where introduced fraud and falsehood. However, as soon as I had power, I immediately re-established religion. I made it the ground-work and foundation upon which I built. I considered it as the support of sound principles and good morality, both in doctrine and in practice. Besides, such is the restlessness of man, that his mind requires that something undefined and marvellous which religion offers; and it is better for him to find it there, than to seek it of Cagliostro, of Mademoiselle Lenormand, or of the fortune-tellers and impostors.” Somebody having ventured to say to him that he might possibly in the end become devout, the Emperor answered, with an air of conviction, that he feared not, and that it was with regret he said it; for it was no doubt a great source of consolation; but that his incredulity did not proceed from perverseness or from licentiousness of mind, but from the strength of his reason. “Yet,” added he, “no man can answer for what will happen, particularly in his last moments. At present I certainly believe that I shall die without a confessor; and yet there is one (pointing to one of us) who will perhaps receive my confession. I am assuredly very far from being an atheist, but I cannot believe all that I am taught in spite of my reason, without being false and a hypocrite. When I became Emperor, and particularly after my marriage with Maria Louisa, every effort was made to induce me to go with great pomp, according to the custom of the Kings of France, to take the sacrament at the church of Notre Dame; but this I positively refused to do: I did not believe in the act sufficiently to derive any benefit from it, and yet I believed too much in it to run the risk of committing a profanation.” On this occasion a certain person was alluded to, who had boasted, as it were, that he had never taken the sacrament. “That is very wrong,” said the Emperor; “either he has not fulfilled the intention of his education, or his education was neglected.” Then, resuming the subject, he said, “To explain where I come from, what I am, and whither I go, is above my comprehension; and yet all that is. I am like the watch that exists, without possessing the consciousness of existence. However, the sentiment of religion is so consolatory that it must be considered as a gift of Heaven: what a resource would it not be for us here to possess it! What influence could men and events exercise over me, if, bearing my misfortunes as if inflicted by God, I expected to be compensated by him with happiness hereafter! What rewards have I not a right to expect who have run a career so extraordinary, so tempestuous, without committing a single crime, and yet how many might I not have been guilty of? I can appear before the tribunal of God, I can await his judgment without fear. He will not find my conscience stained with the thoughts of murder and poisonings, with the infliction of violent and premeditated death, events so common in the history of those whose lives have resembled mine. I have striven only for the glory, the power, the greatness of France. All my faculties, all my efforts, all my moments, were directed to the attainment of that object. These cannot be crimes; to me they appeared acts of virtue. What then would be my happiness, if the bright prospect of futurity presented itself to crown the last moments of my existence!”
After a pause, he resumed. "How is it possible that conviction can find its way to our hearts, when we hear the absurd language, and witness the acts of iniquity, of the greatest number of those whose business it is to preach to us? I am surrounded by priests, who repeat incessantly that their reign is not of this world, and yet they lay hands upon every thing that they can get. The Pope is the head of that religion from heaven, and he thinks only of this world. What did the present Chief Pontiff, who is undoubtedly a good, and a holy man, not offer to be allowed to return to Rome! The surrender of the government of the church, of the institution of bishops, was not too high a price for him to give, to become once more a secular prince. Even now, he is the friend of all the Protestants, who grant him every thing, because they do not fear him. He is only the enemy of catholic Austria, because her territory surrounds his own.
“Nevertheless,” he observed again, “it cannot be doubted that, as Emperor, the species of incredulity which I felt was favourable to the nations I had to govern. How could I have favoured equally sects so opposed to one another, if I had been under the influence of any one of them? How could I have preserved the independence of my thoughts, and of my actions, under the controul of a confessor, who would have governed me by the dread of hell? What power cannot a wicked man, the most stupid of mankind, thus exercise over those by whom whole nations are governed? Is it not the scene-shifter at the opera, who from behind the scenes, moves Hercules at his will? Who can doubt that the last years of Louis XIV. would have been very different, had he been directed by another confessor? I was so deeply impressed with the truth of these opinions that I promised to do all in my power to bring up my son in the same religious persuasion which I myself entertain.”
The Emperor ended the conversation by desiring my son to bring him the New Testament; and, taking it from the beginning, he read as far as the conclusion of the discourse of Jesus on the mount. He expressed himself struck with the highest admiration, of the purity, the sublimity, the beauty of the morality which it contained; and we all experienced the same feeling.
PORTRAIT OF THE DIRECTORS.—ANECDOTES.—18TH
FRUCTIDOR.
Sunday, 9th.—The Emperor spoke much of the creation of the Directory; he had installed it, being then Commander-in-chief of the Army of the Interior. This led him to review the five Directors, whose portraits and characters he drew. He gave a lively picture of their follies and their faults, and this led him to the events of Fructidor, and furnished many curious particulars. I have collected the following, partly, from some of his desultory conversations, and, partly, from his dictation of the campaigns of Italy.
“Barras,” said the Emperor, "of a good family in Provence, was an officer in the regiment of the Isle of France; at the revolution, he was chosen Deputy to the National Convention for the department of the Var. He had no talent for oratory, and no habits of business. After the 31st of May, he was, together with Freron, appointed Commissioner to the army of Italy, and to Provence, which was then the seat of civil war. On his return to Paris, he threw himself into the Thermidorian party; threatened by Robespierre, as well as Tallien and the remainder of Danton’s party, they united, and brought about the events of the 9th Thermidor. At the moment of the crisis, the Convention named him to march against the commune, which had risen in favour of Robespierre; he succeeded.
"This event gave him great celebrity. After the downfall of Robespierre, all the Thermidorians became the leading men of France.