wild with enthusiasm, bolted head down, overthrowing drums and drum-
major, while the little minister clung to his back like a monkey in a
circus. It was a comical sight! But far from laughable under this same
ministry of M. Thiers were the perpetual attempts upon my father's life.
The speculators in revolution, who had been encouraged by their easy
success in 1830, grew discouraged after several like essays at risings
had been severely put down. They then fell back on assassination. The
most serious attempt was Fieschi's, on July 28, 1835. Together with my
two eldest brothers I was to accompany the King to a review of the
National Guard and the regular army, drawn up on the Boulevards. All of
us who were to take part in the procession, princes, marshals, generals,
and aides-de-camp, were assembled in the drawing-room at the Tuileries,
next to the Throne Room, when the Minister of the Interior, M. Thiers,
burst in like a whirlwind, and, beckoning to my two brothers and me, led
us into the embrasure of a window. "My dear princes," said he, looking
at us over his spectacles, "it is more than likely there will be an
attempt on the life of the King, your father, to-day. We have been
warned from several quarters. They say there will be an infernal machine
somewhere near the Ambigu Theatre. It is very vague, but there must be
something at the bottom of it all. We have had all the houses near the
Ambigu searched this morning to no purpose. Should the King be warned?
Should the review be put off?"

We answered unanimously that the King must be warned but that, brave as
he was well known to be, he would never consent to having the review put
off. So it turned out.

"Look well after your father," repeated M. Thiers, and we mounted our
horses. The review went on well enough, except that we all remarked the
presence of a large number of insolent-looking individuals, with red