A solemn Te Deum was chanted at the cathedral of Notre Dame on Sunday,
the 11th of April. The crowd was immense, and the greater part of those
present stood during the ceremony, which was splendid in the extreme;
but who would presume to say that the general feeling was in harmony with
all this pomp? Was, then, the time for this innovation not yet arrived?
Was it too abrupt a transition from the habits of the twelve preceding
years? It is unquestionably true that a great number of the persons
present at the ceremony expressed, in their countenances and gestures,
rather a feeling of impatience and displeasure than of satisfaction or of
reverence for the place in which they were. Here and there murmurs arose
expressive of discontent. The whispering, which I might more properly
call open conversation, often interrupted the divine service, and
sometimes observations were made which were far from being moderate.
Some would turn their heads aside on purpose to take a bit of chocolate-
cake, and biscuits were openly eaten by many who seemed to pay no
attention to what was passing.

The Consular Court was in general extremely irreligious; nor could it be
expected to be otherwise, being composed chiefly of those who had
assisted in the annihilation of all religious worship in France, and of
men who, having passed their lives in camps, had oftener entered a church
in Italy to carry off a painting than to hear the Mass. Those who,
without being imbued with any religious ideas, possessed that good sense
which induces men to pay respect to the belief of others, though it be
one in which they do not participate, did not blame the First Consul for
his conduct, and conducted themselves with some regard to decency. But
on the road from the Tuileries to Notre Dame, Lannes and Augereau wanted
to alight from the carriage as soon as they saw that they ware being
driven to Mass, and it required an order from the First Consul to prevent