the Italian prelates by the vehemence of his logic. It might have been
said that he imagined himself living over again the days in which he led
the Vendeens to the charge against the blues. Nothing could be more
striking than the contrast of his rude and quarrelsome manner with the
polished bearing and honeyed tones of the prelates. Cardinal Caprara
came to me two days ago, with a shocked air, to ask if it is true that,
during the war of the Vendee, the Abbe Bernier made an altar on which to
celebrate mass out of the corpses of the Republicans. I replied that I
knew nothing of it, but that it was possible. 'General, First Consul,'
cried the frightened cardinal, 'it is not a red hat, but a red cap, which
that man should have?'

"I am much afraid," continued the First Consul, "that that kind of cap
would prevent the Abbe Bernier from getting the red hat."

These gentlemen left the First Consul when his toilet was finished, and
went to make their own. The First Consul wore on that day the costume of
the consuls, which consisted of a scarlet coat without facings, and with
a broad embroidery of palms, in gold, on all the seams. His sword, which
he had worn in Egypt, hung at his side from a belt, which, though not
very wide, was of beautiful workmanship, and richly embroidered. He wore
his black stock, in preference to a lace cravat, and like his colleagues,
wore knee-breeches and shoes; a French hat, with floating plumes of the
three colors, completed this rich costume.

The celebration of this sacrament at Notre Dame was a novel sight to the
Parisians, and many attended as if it were a theatrical representation.
Many, also, especially amongst the military, found it rather a matter of
raillery than of edification; and those who, during the Revolution, had
contributed all their strength to the overthrow of the worship which the