Majesty showed himself both the perfect general and the soldier, under
all circumstances furnishing an example of personal courage to such an
extent, indeed, that all those who surrounded him, and whose existence
was dependent on his own, were seriously alarmed. For instance, as is
well known, the Emperor, at the battle of Montereau, pointed the pieces
of artillery himself, recklessly exposed himself to the enemy's fire, and
said to his soldiers, who were much alarmed at his danger and attempted
to remove him, "Let me alone, my friends; the bullet which is to kill me
has not yet been molded."

At Arcis the Emperor again fought as a common soldier, and more than once
drew his sword in order to cut his way through the midst of the enemy who
surrounded him. A shell fell a few steps from his horse. The animal,
frightened, jumped to one side, and nearly unhorsed the Emperor, who,
with his field-glass in his hand, was at the moment occupied in examining
the battlefield. His Majesty settled himself again firmly in his saddle,
stuck his spurs in the horse's sides, forced him to approach and put his
nose to it. Just then the shell burst, and, by an almost incredible
chance, neither the Emperor nor his horse was even wounded.

In more than one similar circumstance the Emperor seemed, during this
campaign, to put his life at a venture; and yet it was only in the last
extremity that he abandoned the hope of preserving his throne. It was a
painful sacrifice to him to treat with the enemy so long as they occupied
French territory; for he wished to purge the soil of France of the
presence of foreigners before entering into any agreement with them
whatever. And this feeling was the reason of his hesitation and refusal
to accept the peace which was offered him on various occasions.

On the 8th of February, the Emperor, at the end of a long discussion with