"Sire,--Amid the numerous felicitations which you receive from every corner of Europe, can the feeble voice of a woman reach your ear, and will you deign to listen to her who has so often consoled your sorrows, and sweetened your pains, now that she speaks to you only of that happiness in which all your wishes are fulfilled? Having ceased to be your wife, dare I felicitate you on becoming a father? Yes, sire, without hesitation; for my soul renders justice to yours, as you know mine. Though separated, we are united by a sympathy which survives all events. I should have desired to learn the birth of the king of Rome from yourself, and not from the cannons of Evreux; but I know that your first attentions are due to the public authorities, to your own family, and especially to the fortunate princess who has realized your dearest hopes. She cannot be more devoted to you than I; but she has been enabled to contribute more towards your happiness, by securing that of France. Not till you have ceased to watch by her bed, not till you are weary of embracing your son, will you take the pen to converse with your best friend. I wait." The next day, Eugene arrived, charged with a message from the emperor: "Tell your mother," said he, "that I am certain she will rejoice more than any one at my good fortune. I would have written to her already, had I not been completely absorbed in looking at my son. I tear myself from him only to attend to the most indispensable duties. This evening I will discharge the sweetest of all--I will write to Josephine." Accordingly, about eleven o'clock the same evening, the folding-doors were opened in great form, and the announcement, "From the emperor," ushered in one of his own pages, bearer of a letter from Napoleon. The empress retired to read this ardently-desired epistle; and on her return it was easy to see that she had been weeping. The curiosity of her court was gratified by hearing various portions of the letter, which concluded in these words: "This infant, in concert with _our Eugene_, will constitute my happiness, and that of France." "Is it possible," said Josephine, "to be more amiable? or could any thing be better calculated to soothe whatever might be painful in my thoughts at this moment, did I not so ardently love the emperor? This uniting of my son with his own is worthy of him, who, when he wills, is the most delightful man in the world."