impossible he should long resist a sentiment which is at the bottom of
every heart, and which, if it is true that this sentiment increases in
proportion to the inheritance we leave our children, no one could
experience more fully than Napoleon, for no one had yet possessed so
formidable a power on the earth; that the course of nature having made
her sterility a hopeless evil, it was her duty to be the first to
sacrifice the sentiments of her heart to the good of the state, and the
personal happiness of Napoleon sad but powerful reasoning, which policy
invoked in aid of the divorce, and of which this excellent princess in
the illusion of her devotion thought herself convinced in the depths of
her heart.

The royal child was presented to her. I know nothing in the world which
could be more touching than the joy of this excellent woman at the sight
of Napoleon's son. She at first regarded him with eyes swimming in
tears; then she took him in her arms, and pressed him to her heart with a
tenderness too deep for words. There were present no indiscreet
witnesses to take pleasure in indulging irreverent curiosity, or observe
with critical irony the feelings of Josephine, nor was there ridiculous
etiquette to freeze the expression of this tender soul; it was a scene
from private life, and Josephine entered into it with all her heart.
From the manner in which she caressed this child, it might have been said
that it was some ordinary, child, and not a son of the Caesars, as
flatterers said, not the son of a great man, whose cradle was surrounded
with so many honors, and who had been born a king. Josephine bathed him
with her tears, and said to him some of those baby words with which a
mother makes herself understood and loved by her new born. It was
necessary at last to separate them. The interview had been short, but it
had been well employed by the loving soul of Josephine. In this scene
one could judge from her joy of the sincerity of her sacrifice, while at