In the month of October of this year, the First Consul received in public
audience Haled-Effendi, the ambassador of the Ottoman Porte.

The arrival of the Turkish ambassador created a sensation at the
Tuileries, because he brought a large number of cashmere shawls to the
First Consul, which every one was sure would be distributed, and each
woman flattered herself that she would be favorably noticed. I think
that, without his foreign costume, and without his cashmere shawls, he
would have produced little effect on persons accustomed to seeing
sovereign princes pay court to the chief of the government at his
residence and at their own. His costume even was not more remarkable
than that of Roustan, to which we were accustomed; and as to his bows,
they were hardly lower than those of the ordinary courtiers of the First
Consul. At Paris, it is said, the enthusiasm lasted longer--"It is so
odd to be a Turk!" A few ladies had the honor of seeing the bearded
ambassador eat. He was polite and even gallant with them, and made them
a few presents, which were highly prized; his manners were not too
Mohammedan, and he was not much shocked at seeing our pretty Parisians
without veils over their faces. One day, which he had spent almost
entirely at Saint-Cloud, I saw him go through his prayers. It was in the
court of honor, on a broad parapet bordered with a stone balustrade. The
ambassador had carpets spread on the side of the apartments, which were
afterwards those of the King of Rome; and there he made his genuflexions,
under the eyes of many people of the house, who, out of consideration,
kept themselves behind their casements. In the evening he was present at
the theater, and Zaire or Mahomet, I think, was played; but of course he
understood none of it.