The festivity of December 10 took place at the Luxembourg, where the Directors were to give a formal reception to the conqueror of Italy. The rooms of the palace were too small for the occasion, so the large courtyard was turned into a vast hall adorned with trophies and flags. At eleven in the morning the members of the Directory assembled at the palace, at the rooms of their colleague, La Reveillere-Lepeaux.

The ministers, the members of the Diplomatic Body, the officers of the garrison of Paris, were announced in succession. At noon the artillery posted in the garden gave the signal for the beginning of the festival. A band, playing the favorite airs of the French Republicans, preceded the procession, which passed through the galleries of the palace and went into the large courtyard.

At the end, close to the main vestibule, rose the altar of the country, surmounted by statues of Liberty, Equality, and Peace. Below the altar were five chairs for the Directors, who wore a Roman dress, and a platform for the members of the Diplomatic Body. On each side rose a vast semicircular amphitheatre for the constituted authorities and the Conservatory of Music. To the right and left of this amphitheatre was a bundle of flags of the different armies of the Republic. The walls were adorned with tricolored hangings; and over the altar and the amphitheatre was suspended a large awning.

A vast multitude filled the courtyard and the windows of the rooms, which served as galleries. All the leaders of Parisian society were gathered at this entertainment, which had been much talked about. Every one looked eagerly forward to seeing and hearing the man whose name was on every one's lips. The women wore their handsomest dresses, anxious to see and to be seen; they and the spectacle itself attracted equal attention.

The men, proud of their uniforms, the fashionable beauties, proud of their splendor, were greeting one another; and the noisy crowd awaited with impatience its favorite's arrival. The President of the Directory gave orders to an usher to go and summon the Ministers of War and of Foreign Affairs, Generals Bonaparte and Joubert, and the Chief of Brigade, Andreossy, who were in the apartments of La Reveillere-Lepeaux.

The Conservatory orchestra played a symphony, but suddenly the noise of the instruments was drowned by an outburst of cheers. Cries arose from every side, "Long live the Republic! Long live Bonaparte! Long live the great nation!" "There he is!" they shouted. "There he is so young and so famous! There is the hero of Lodi, of Castiglione, of Arcole, the peacemaker of the continent, the rival of Alexander and Caesar! There he is!"

His modest stature, his gauntness, his air of feebleness, made him no less majestic, for he wore the majesty of glory. No further attention was paid to the Directors or to the famous men who were there; on him, and on him alone, every eye was fixed. He advanced calmly and modestly, accompanied by the Ministers of Foreign Affairs and of War, and followed by his aides.

The chorus of the Conservatory sang the Hymn to Liberty; the Moniteur tells us that "the assembly, in a transport of delight, repeated the chorus of the martial song. The invocation to Liberty and the sight of the liberator of Italy electrified every soul; the Directory, the whole procession, all who were there, arose and stood bareheaded during this solemn performance. General Bonaparte then advanced to the foot of the altar of the country, and was presented to the Directory by Citizen Talleyrand, Minister of Foreign Relations, who spoke as follows: 'Citizen Directors, I have the honor of presenting to the Executive Directory Citizen Bonaparte, who brings the ratification of the treaty of peace concluded with the Emperor. While bringing us this certain pledge of peace, he recalls, in spite of himself, the numberless marvels that have brought about this great event; but let him reassure himself, I will pass over in silence all that which will win the honor of history and the applause of posterity; I will say to-day that this glory, which casts so bright a glow on France, belongs to the Revolution. Without that, indeed, the genius of the Conqueror of Italy would have languished in vulgar honors.'"

Talleyrand took great pains to combine the Republic and the general in his eulogies. "All Frenchmen," he said, "have conquered in Bonaparte; his glory is the property of all; there is no Republican who cannot claim his portion.... Personal greatness, so far from offending equality, is its proudest triumph, and on this very day French Republicans ought to feel themselves greater."

Citizen Talleyrand, as the future Prince of Benevento was then called, used the language of the most accomplished courtiers. Beneath democratic formulas appeared the most refined and subtle tone of the old regime. The ministers of Louis XIV were not more accomplished in the arts of flattery. Life is full of curious vicissitudes! This Citizen Talleyrand, the Minister of Foreign Affairs under the Republic one and indivisible, was the former bishop who said mass in the presence of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette on the altar of the Champ de Mars, at the festival of the Federation. This ardent Republican, the instigator of the 18th Fructidor, was to appear one day as the champion of legitimacy, and to forget that he had ever been a minister of the Republic and of the Empire.

Yet Bonaparte was extremely pleased by Talleyrand's delicate flatteries. Having been so often accused by the emigres of being a mere Jacobin general, he was highly gratified to be praised by a great nobleman, by one of the most important persons of the former court.

For his part, Talleyrand, who had a keen appreciation of honors and wealth, knew very well that this young man before whom he made obeisance would soon be in a position to distribute them; hence the refinement in the flatteries which the former bishop addressed to his hero.

"And when I think," he said in closing, "of all that he has done to make us pardon this glory, of the antique love of simplicity that distinguishes him, of his love for the abstract sciences, of the sublime Ossian who appears to detach him from earth, when every one knows his disdain for show, luxury, and splendor, those petty ambitions of ordinary minds, then, far from dreading his ambition, I feel that some day perhaps we may be compelled to summon him from the calm joys of his peaceful retreat. All France will be free, but he, perhaps, never: such is his destiny. At this very moment a new enemy calls him, renowned for its hatred of the French and its insolent tyranny towards all the nations of the earth. May it, through Bonaparte's genius, promptly expiate both, and may a peace worthy of all the glory of the Republic be imposed upon the tyrants of the sea; may it avenge France and reassure the world!"

They scarcely listened to Talleyrand, and found him long-winded; for they were impatient to hear Bonaparte, the hero of the day. Every instant which postponed the moment when the hero of Arcole was to speak seemed to them like time lost, and only the extravagant praise which he heaped upon the hero of the day excused the length of the Minister's speech.

Citizen Talleyrand finished his peroration with these words: "Carried away by the pleasure of speaking about you, General, I perceive too late that the vast throng which surrounds you is impatient to hear you, and you, too, must blame me for delaying the pleasure you will have in listening to one who has the right of addressing you in the name of all France and of addressing you in the name of an old friendship."

Napoleon's Speech

At last Bonaparte was about to speak. His simple and modest countenance, said the Moniteur, contrasted with his great reputation. Every one imagined him commanding at the bridge of Lodi, at Arcole, at the crossing of the Tagliamento, or dictating peace at Campo Formio. There was a deep silence. Bonaparte handed to the President of the Directory the Emperor's ratification of the treaty of Campo Formio, and spoke as follows:

"Citizens, the French people, in order to be free, had to fight with its kings. In order to attain a constitution founded on reason, it had to contend with eighteen centuries of prejudice. The Constitution of the Year III was made, and you triumphed over every obstacle. Religion, feudality, royalty, have successively governed Europe for twenty centuries, but the peace you have just concluded dates the era of representative governments.

You have succeeded in organizing the great nation whose vast territory is limited because nature itself has drawn its boundaries. You have done more. The two fairest parts of Europe, long since so famous for the arts and sciences, and for the great men whose birthplace it was, see with the greatest hopes the genius and liberty rising from the tomb of their ancestors. They are the two pedestals on which destiny is to erect two powerful nations. I have the honor to hand to you the treaty signed at Campo Formio and ratified by His Majesty the Emperor. This peace assures the liberty, the prosperity, and the glory of the Republic. When the happiness of the French people shall be established on better organic laws, all Europe will become free."

This short speech, delivered in a jerky voice, in a tone of command, produced a deeper impression than would have done the voice of the most famous orators of the century. When Bonaparte had finished, rapturous applause broke forth on every side, and spreading from the rooms, it continued all about in the neighboring streets, which were filled by a dense crowd.

Then Citizen Barras began to speak as President of the Directory, and it must be said that if, as generally asserted, he nourished a secret jealousy of Bonaparte, be was able to conceal it; for his speech was even more enthusiastic than Talleyrand's, as may be inferred from the opening words: "Citizen General, Nature, chary of prodigies, bestows seldom great men upon the world, out it must De desirous to mark the dawn of liberty by one of these phenomena, and the sublime Revolution of the French people, without precedent in the history of nations, has been permitted to add a new genius to the list of great men. You, first of all, Citizen General, have known no equal, and by the same force with which you have shattered the enemies of the Republic, you have surpassed all the rivals that antiquity held up before you. . . . After eighteen centuries, you have avenged France for the fortune of Caesar. He brought into our country subjection and destruction; you have carried into his ancient land liberty and life. Thus is paid the huge debt which the Gauls had contracted to haughty Rome."

Bonaparte avenging Caesar's good fortune is, to say the least, a singular notion. Then Barras, adopting a less austere tone, denounced "that herd of intriguing, ambitious, ignorant, destructive men, whose plans are destroyed, whose powerlessness is unveiled, whose ill-gotten wealth is unmasked by peace." Then he broke out against the cabinet of London, "which, ignorant of the art of war, understands only how to mix poisons and to sharpen assassins' daggers."

After along eulogy of the "immortal 18th Fructidor," Barras ended by inviting Bonaparte to punish the British government. "Your heart," he said, "is the Republican temple of honor; it is to the mighty genius which fills you that the Directory entrusts this grand enterprise. Let the conquerors of the Po, the Rhine, and the Tiber follow in your footsteps; the ocean will be proud to carry them, for it is an unconquered slave who blushes at his chains; as it roars, it invokes the earth's wrath against the tyrant who burdens it with his fleets. It will fight for you; the elements second a free man. . . . You are the liberator whom outraged humanity summons with plaintive cries.... Of the enemy you will find only his crime. Crime alone sustains this perfidious government; crush it, and its fall will speedily teach the world that if the French people is the benefactor of Europe, it is also the avenger of the rights of nations."

After his long and pompous harangue, Barras held out his arms to Bonaparte and gave him a fraternal embrace.

"All the spectators were moved," says the Moniteur; "All regretted that they, too, could not embrace the General who has deserved so well of his country, and offer him their share of the national gratitude."

Bonaparte then descended the steps of the altar, and, the Minister of Foreign Relations led him to a chair set in front of the Diplomatic Body. Then the choruses and the orchestra of the Conservatory performed the Song of the Return, the words by Citizen Chenier, the music by Citizen Mehul. There was a couplet for warriors, one for old men, one for the bards, one for young girls. The song ended thus:

THE WARRIORS

Let us unite in bonds of Hymen our hands and our hearts.

THE YOUNG GIRLS.

Hymen and love are the Conqueror's reward.

THE WARRIORS.

Let us create other warriors, and bequeath to them victory

THE WARRIORS AND THE YOUNG GIRLS.

That some day, at their words, their bright eyes,

One will say: They are the children of the brave!

That, deaf to tyrants, to slaves,

They always hearken to the voice of the oppressed."

The Minister of War then presented to the Directory General Joubert and Chief of Brigade Andreossy, whom Bonaparte had commissioned to take to the Directory the flag presented to this brave army, in token of the national gratitude, by the Legislative Body: it bore inscriptions in gold letters recounting the principal exploits of the conquerors of Italy.

They formed most glorious record: that they had taken one hundred and fifty thousand prisoners, five hundred and fifty pieces of siege artillery, and six hundred field-pieces; that they had won eighteen pitched battles; that they had sent to Paris the masterpieces of Michael Angelo, Guercino, Titian, Paul Veronese, Correggio, Albano, the Carracei, Raphael, and Leonardo da Vinci! There was the famous standard, the oriflamme of the Republic!

"What Frenchman," exclaimed the Minister of War, "what Frenchman worthy of the name will not feel his heart beat at the sight of this banner? Eternal monument of the triumph of our arms, be forever consecrated in the French capitol, amid the trophies won from conquered nations! Glory to you, valiant defenders of our country, generals and soldiers, who have covered with such glory the cradle of the Republic!"

After a speech from General Joubert and another from Andreossy, the artillery saluted the banner with a general salute. The President of the Directory received it from the hands of the two warriors. "In the name of the French Republic," he exclaimed, "I salute you, the flag recalling such mighty feats! . . . Brave soldiers, proceed to the banks of the Thames to rid the universe of the monsters who oppress and dishonor it. . . . Let Saint James's Palace be overthrown! The country wishes it; humanity requires it; your vengeance commands it. . . . Citizen General, you appear surrounded with the halo of your glory within the walls where, a few months ago, raving conspirators madly shouted, 'And this man still lives!' Yes, he lives for the glory of the nation and the defence of the country."

The Conservatory choruses chanted the Song of Return, the public joining in, as a superior officer carried away reverentially the banner of the Army of Italy, to hang it aloft in the Council Room of the Directory.

It was a grand festivity; the transports of enthusiasm were sincere and generous. The government that presided over these solemn rites has been too often the subject of derision. Did it not possess one talisman to console every misfortune, victory? Could it in sight of the amazed and fascinated Diplomatic Body, give to France that fine, glorious name, of which the whole world judged it worthy, that of the great nation?

Yes; it was with a sort of religious awe that this joyous multitude pronounced the word, liberty. Yes; on that day the Revolution appeared under an immortal aspect. Yes; the valiant soldiers who had wrought such miracles of heroism felt that at last they were amply rewarded for their fatigues, their sufferings, their triumphs. Doubtless it is easier to criticise than to imitate the Directory. A government which could use such haughty language in the face of Europe has claims, in spite of its faults and weaknesses, upon the indulgence of posterity.

A government that gave to France its natural boundaries, and which could win not merely the territory, but also the hearts of the people it annexed, rested on principles and ideas of a grandeur that cannot fail to be recognized.