always the right thing at the right time, and produced precisely the
effect it aimed at. It was never more apparent than in the address in
question. There were passages which thrilled the martial spirit of the
land, and quickened into life the old associations connected with days
of glory. Marshal Ney said, at his trial, that there was one sentence[A]
in it which no French soldier could resist, and which drew the whole of
his army over to the Emperor.

[Footnote A: "La victoire marchera au pas de charge."]

Such was the paper, which was read amidst the mad demonstrations of
my schoolfellows. Their extravagance knew no limits; studies were
neglected; and the recitations, next morning, demonstrated to our
discomforted teachers that the minds of their pupils had passed the
night on the march from Cannes to Paris.

The court journals spoke lightly of the whole matter, pronounced the
"usurper" crazy, and predicted that he would be brought to the capital
in chains. There were sometimes rumors that he was defeated and
slain, and again that he was a prisoner at the mercy of the king. The
telegraphic despatches were not made public, and the utmost care was
practised by the government to conceal the fact that his continually
increasing columns were rapidly approaching. There appeared to be no
alteration in the usual routine of the royal family, and there was no
outward sign of the mortal consternation that was shaking them to the
centre of their souls. The day before the entrance of the Emperor, I
happened to be passing through the court-yard of the Tuileries, when an
array of carriages indicated that the inmates of the palace were about
to take their daily drive. As my position was favorable, I stopped to
look at the display of fine equipages, and soon saw part of the family