In this manner Napoleon had, unconsciously perhaps, laid the foundation for the union of the German peoples into one great empire, by the suppression of so many of those small, jealous, and hide-bound principalities which had divided the land, and which nothing but overwhelming pressure from without could have reformed. Thus, while still wearing the modest title of First Consul, the ruler of France had grown to proportions which were imperial. To the French, he was the necessary man without whom they might relapse into chaotic conditions. The wondrous structure he had reared seemed to rest upon his strength alone. His life was the sole guarantee of law and order. Should assassins strike him down, what would be the situation in France? To avoid such a danger, and to deprive royalist fanatics of such a temptation, would it not be better to make Napoleon monarch, and to settle the succession? In that event his death would not bring about endless confusion and violent convulsions. Reasoning of this kind seems to have moved the Senate to propose that the First Consul accept a new title, and on May 18, 1804, he proclaimed himself Emperor of the French. Partly by the force of circumstances, partly by sincere conviction, partly by the exertion of Napoleon’s wonderful gift for the management of men, France had been so well prepared for this change in her form of government that she indorsed it by a practically unanimous vote. Only such stalwart exponents of a principle as Carnot and Lafayette protested. With the Empire came all things imperial: a change of constitution; a creation of high dignitaries; the ennobling of the Bonaparte family, Lucien excepted; the creation of marshals in the army; the establishment of court forms and etiquette in the palace. Gorgeous and imposing were the ceremonies which ushered in the New Order. Paris, France, Europe, were dazzled by the lavish expenditures, the magnificent parade, with which the Consul became Emperor. He spared no expense, no pains, no personal discomfort, to make the pageant a success. Historians have sneered at the rehearsals by means of which he prepared each actor in the coronation for his part; but the ridicule would seem to be misplaced. His example has set the fashion; and not only are private marriages rehearsed in our day, but royal funerals and royal coronations perfect their functions by the same prudent process. That nothing might be wanting to the solemnity and impressiveness of the occasion, Napoleon insisted that the Pope should come from Rome to Paris and officiate. So recent and so immense had been Napoleon’s services to the Church that the Pontiff could not refuse, more especially as he had other favors to ask.