Pius VII. entered alone; Bonaparte closed the door after him. The Pope was tall, but stooped somewhat; his countenance, elongated and sallow, wore an expression of suffering, which seemed to have been induced upon a habitual tone of elevation and courtesy. His eyes were black and large, and on his lips, which were slightly opened, played a smile indicative at once of urbanity and benevolence. He wore on his head a white calotte or headpiece, partially covering his hair, which was naturally black, but now blended with some silver locks; on his shoulders he had a camail, or cape of red velvet, and his long robe reached to his feet. Those who have seen his portrait by Lawrence, though taken ten or eleven years later, will recognize at once the correctness of this description. As he entered the room he moved slowly, with a calm and measured step like that of an aged female; and having taken his seat in an arm-chair, he turned his eyes toward the floor, and seemed to wait for what the other Italian was going to say. Bonaparte, as all know, was short in stature, being below the middle height; but in all other respects he was, at the period here referred to, very different in personal appearance from what he became subsequently. Far from having that fullness which approached to corpulence--that sallow puffiness of cheek which verged on the unhealthy--or that heaviness of limb, or general obesity, which threatened infirmity--he was slender in frame, but firm and well-proportioned; yet there was something which indicated premature wear, by hardship in the field and toil in the cabinet; he was quick and nervous in every movement, rapid and almost convulsive in his gestures when excited. Still he could be at any time graceful in attitude, and elegant in manner. Even then he stooped a little, so that his shoulders inclined forward, which gave something of flatness to his chest. His face was thin and elongated; but what a forehead! What eyes! What beauty in the contour of his intellectual visage! In repose, its habitual expression was reflective and concentrated, with a strong tinge of melancholy. Bonaparte ceased not to pace the room after the Pope had entered. After a while, altering his curve somewhat, and having taken a turn round the chair, as if making a _reconnaissance,_ he stopped short, and resumed the thread of the conversation which had been commenced in the carriage, and abruptly broken off. "I repeat, holy father, I am not an _esprit fort_, nor do I like word-spinners or idea-mongers. I assure you, that in spite of my old republicans I will go to mass." These words he tossed off toward the Pope, as if he were giving him a dash of the incense-box; then paused to observe their effect. He seemed to imagine that, after the impieties of the republican _régime_, such an avowal ought to produce a decided effect.