course were adopted towards every one all parties would speedily be
conciliated. "I do not think so," said my friend. "If the Government
persist in its present course it cannot possibly stand, and we shall have
the Emperor back again."--"That," said I, "would be a very great
misfortune; and even if such were the wish of France, it would be opposed
by Europe. You who are so devotedly attached to France cannot be
indifferent to the danger that would threaten her if the presence of
Bonaparte should bring the foreigners back again. Can you endure to
think of the dismemberment of our country?"--"That they would never dare
to attempt. But you and I can never agree on the question of the Emperor
and your Bourbons. We take a totally different view of the matter. You
had cause to complain of Bonaparte, but I had only reason to be satisfied
with him. But tell me, what would you do if he were to return?"--
"Bonaparte return!"--"Yes."--"Upon my word, the best thing I could do
would be to set off as speedily as I could, and that is certainly what I
should do. I am thoroughly convinced that he would never pardon me for
the part I have taken in the Restoration, and I candidly confess that I
should not hesitate a moment to save my life by leaving France."--"Well,
you are wrong, for I am convinced that if you would range yourself among
the number of his friends you might have whatever you wished--titles,
honours, riches. Of this I could give you assurance."--"All this, I must
tell you, does not tempt me. I love France as dearly, as you do, and I
am convinced that she can never be happy under Bonaparte. If he should
return I will go and live abroad."

This is only part of a conversation which lasted a considerable time,
and, as is often the case after a long discussion, my friend retained his
opinion, and I mine. However, this second warning, this hypothesis of
the return of Bonaparte, made me reflect, and I soon received another
hint which gave additional weight to the preceding ones. An individual