street ruffian; or, in the name of liberty, to let all his own personal
liberty and inclination be trampled under foot.

Etiquette, as I have said, crept forth from the dark corners again; and
the three consuls, who had taken possession of the Luxembourg, whispered
the word "monsieur" in each other's ears, and greeted Josephine and her
daughter, who were installed in the apartments prepared for them in the
palace on the next day, with the title of "madame." Yet, only a year
earlier, the two words "monsieur" and "madame" had occasioned revolt in
Paris, and brought about bloodshed. A year earlier General Augereau had
promulged the stern order of the day in his division, that, "whoever
should use the word 'monsieur' or 'madame,' orally or in writing, on
pretext whatever, should be deprived of his rank, and declared incapable
of ever again serving in the army of the republic[7]."

[Footnote 7: Bourrienne, vol. i., p. 229.]

Now, these two proscribed words made their triumphant entry, along with
the three consuls, into the palace of the Luxembourg, which had been
delivered from its democratic tyrants.

Josephine was now, at least, "Madame" Bonaparte, and Hortense was
"Mademoiselle" Beauharnais. The wife of Consul Bonaparte now required a
larger retinue of servants, and a more showy establishment. Indeed,
temerity could not yet go so far as to speak of the _court_ of Madame
Bonaparte and the _court ladies_ of Mademoiselle Hortense; they had
still to be content with the limited space of the diminutive Luxembourg,
but they were soon to be compensated for all this, and, if they still
had to call each other _monsieur_ and _madame_, they could, a few years
later, say "your highness," "your majesty," and "monseigneur," in the