The dignitaries of the Empire were assembled in the Chamber of Deputies to take the oath of allegiance to the Emperor. It was a magnificent ceremonial. In the streets, on the quays and in the parks were great throngs of people, and among the military the enthusiasm was unbounded. No longer crying “_Vive l’Empereur_,” their shouts rolled in thunder tones, “_Empereur! Empereur!_” The roar of cannon shook the earth, and the air thrilled with the music of the bands. In the great and splendid Chamber of Deputies were assembled a brilliant array of the nobility of France--those who had been born great, those who had achieved greatness, and those who had had greatness thrust upon them. They had assembled to swear loyalty to their Emperor, Napoleon--and not one of those who were present knew better the frailty of such a bond of allegiance than the Emperor himself. And when Fouché took the oath, Napoleon turned his head and looked fixedly, calmly at the traitor. Sir Jonah Barrington says that Fouché faltered and flushed. But I doubt it. Sir Jonah Barrington says that he watched Napoleon’s countenance, intently studying its every detail. He says that the Emperor sat unmoved, his face somewhat shaded by the ostrich plumes of his black Spanish hat, the size of his bust concealed by “the short cloak of purple velvet, embroidered with golden bees.” Sir Jonah speaks of the “high and ungraceful shoulders,” and declares that he was “by no means a majestic figure.” “I watched his eye. It was that of a hawk.” He then describes how this brilliant glance swept from one face to another, throughout the assemblage, without a movement of the Emperor’s head. Sir Jonah describes Napoleon’s mother as “a very fine old lady, apparently about sixty, but looking strong and in good health, well looking, and possessing a cheerful, _comfortable_ countenance. In short, I liked her appearance; it was plain and unassuming.” Then Sir Jonah tells how he settled down to study her expression to learn her sensations during the splendid ceremonial. And after the most critical attention to the varying expressions of the “comfortable countenance” of this fine old lady, Sir Jonah reaches the conclusion that the emotions which move her as the brilliant function progresses, are just those _of a mother proud of her son_! “I could perceive no lofty sensations of gratified ambition, no towering pride, no vain and empty arrogance, as she viewed underneath her the peers and representatives of her son’s dominions.” What emotion was it, then, that filled her bosom on that last great day in Paris? “A tear occasionally moistened her cheek, but it evidently proceeded from a happy rather than a painful feeling--it was the tear of parental ecstasy.”