have shown no mercy to the slightest disregard of the rules he had himself
drawn up after long meditation. The courtiers were expected to be as
familiar with the code of etiquette as were the officers with the manual
of arms. The Emperor noticed the minutest details, busied himself with
everything, saw everything. There had been much more latitude at court
under the old monarchy, and those of the old regime who entered the
Emperor's court were soon wearied by the inflexible severity of its
discipline. The court, moreover, was very splendid. The Faubourg Saint
Germain brought to it its politeness and conversational charm. For his
part, Napoleon speedily assumed the manners of a European sovereign, while
preserving his martial character. He was at the same time Emperor and
commander-in-chief. Yet the military element did not control his court;
the civil element was more powerful there than in other European courts,
the Russian, for example. Napoleon would never have suffered in his
presence the faintest sign of the familiarity of the camp; every one who
crossed the threshold of the Tuileries was compelled to preserve the
manners, the bearing, the language of a courtier.

The levees and couchees of the sovereign were restored as in the time of
the Bourbons; though under the monarchy they were real things, and a mere
imitation under the Empire. These moments were not devoted to the petty
details of toilette, but rather to receiving, morning and evening, those
members of the civil and military household who had to receive his direct
orders or enjoyed the right of "paying their court at these privileged
hours." At Saint Helena, Napoleon boasted that at the Tuileries he had
suppressed in the matter of etiquette "all that was real and commonplace,
and had substituted what was merely nominal and decorative." "A king," he
said, "is not a natural product; he is a result of civilization. He does
not exist nakedly, but only when dressed."