If fall I must, I will not bequeath France to the Revolution from which I
have delivered her."

These were golden words, and Napoleon thought of a more noble and truly
national mode of parrying the danger which threatened him. He ordered
the enrolment of the National Guard of Paris, which was placed under the
command of Marshal Moncey. A better choice could not have been made, but
the staff of the National Guard was a focus of hidden intrigues, in which
the defence of Paris was less thought about than the means of taking
advantage of Napoleon's overthrow. I was made a captain in this Guard,
and, like the rest of the officers, I was summoned to the Tuileries, on
the 23d of January, when the Emperor took leave of the National Guard
previously to his departure from Paris to join the army.

Napoleon entered with the Empress. He advanced with a dignified step,
leading by the hand his son, who was not yet three years old. It was
long since I had seen him. He had grown very corpulent, and I remarked
on his pale countenance an expression of melancholy and irritability.

The habitual movement of the muscles of his neck was more decided and
more frequent than formerly. I shall not attempt to describe what were
my feelings during this ceremony, when I again saw, after a long
separation, the friend of my youth, who had become master of Europe,
and was now on the point of sinking beneath the efforts of his enemies.
There was something melancholy in this solemn and impressive ceremony.
I have rarely witnessed such profound silence in so numerous an assembly.
At length Napoleon, in a voice as firm and sonorous as when he used to
harangue his troops in Italy or in Egypt, but without that air of
confidence which then beamed on his countenance, delivered to the
assembled officers an address which was published in all the journals of