“I returned to Paris. The diversity of opinions and the irritation of the public mind were extreme. I had for a long time lived in the greatest retirement. I now confined myself entirely to the domestic circle of my wife and children. Never at any former period of my life did I prove myself a better husband or a better father; and never, perhaps, was I more physically happy.
“As I was one day reading, in the _Journal des Debats_, an account of a work of M. Beauchamp, I found mentioned the names of several gentlemen who were stated to have assembled on the Place Louis XV. on the 31st March, to excite sentiments in favour of royalty; and my name was among the number. It was in good company, no doubt; but at the same time the statement was untrue; and I should have been considerably lowered in the estimation of many if it had been believed. I wrote to request a correction of the error, which was calculated to render me the subject of congratulations to which I was in no way entitled.
“I observed that it was out of my power at the time to act in the way described, whatever might have been my inclination. As the commander of a legion of the National Guard, I had contracted obligations from which no consideration on earth could free me, &c. I sent my letter to the deputy Chabaud-Latour, one of the proprietors of the _Journal des Debats_, a man for whom I entertained a great esteem. He declined publishing my letter, purely from good intentions towards me. I then addressed it to the editor; but he refused to insert it on account of difference of opinion.
“Meanwhile, the state of the public mind indicated an inevitable and speedy catastrophe. Every thing foreboded that the Bourbons would share the fate of the Stuarts. My wife and I used every evening to amuse ourselves in reading Hume’s History of England. We began at Charles I., and your Majesty arrived before we had got to James II.” (Here the Emperor could not repress a laugh.)
“Your Majesty’s advance and arrival,” continued I, “were to us a subject of the greatest astonishment and anxiety. I was far from foreseeing the honourable voluntary exile which it would gain for me in the end; for I was then little known to your Majesty; and circumstances arising out of that event alone brought me here. Had I filled the most trivial post under the King; had I even been a frequent attendant at the Tuileries, which would have been very natural and consistent with propriety, I should not have appeared for a length of time in your Majesty’s presence. Not, indeed, that I should have had any thing to reproach myself with, or that my attachment to you would have been the less sincere; but because I should not have wished to pass for a piece of court furniture, or to seem always ready to offer incense at the shrine of power. I should have awaited an appointment, instead of pressing forward to solicit one. But as it was, I felt myself so much at liberty, every thing about me was in such perfect harmony, that I seemed to form a part of the great event. I therefore eagerly hastened to meet the first glance of your Majesty; I felt as though I had claims on your kindness and favour. On your return from Waterloo, the same sentiments brought me immediately and spontaneously near your person, which I have never since quitted. If I was then attracted by your public glory, I am now attached by your private virtues; and if it be true that the gratification of my feelings then cost me some sacrifice, I now find myself repaid a hundred-fold, by the happiness I enjoy in being able to tell you so.