respect for yourself, joined to the sincere attachment they
bear to me, which I can not doubt, secures me from the
danger of ever being obliged to recall what it is your wish
that they should remember. My most honorable title is
derived, not from having been crowned, but assuredly from
having been chosen by you. None other is of value. That
alone suffices for my immortality.

"My circle is at this time somewhat more numerous than
usual, there being several visitors, besides many of the
inhabitants of Evreux and the environs, whom I see of
course. I am pleased with their manners, with their
admiration of you, a particular in which you know that I am
not easily satisfied. In short, I find myself perfectly at
home in the midst of my forest, and entreat you, sire, no
longer to fancy to yourself that there is no living at a
distance from court. Besides you, there is nothing there
which I regret, since I shall have my children with me soon,
and already enjoy the society of the small number of friends
who remained faithful to me. Do not forget _your friend_.
Tell her sometimes that you preserve for her an attachment
which constitutes the felicity of her life. Often repeat to
her that you are happy, and be assured that for her the
future will thus be peaceful, as the past has been stormy,
and often sad."

Just before Napoleon set out on his fatal campaign to Russia, he called
to see Josephine. Seated upon a circular bench in the garden, before the
windows of the saloon, where they could both be seen but not overheard,
they continued for two hours engaged most earnestly in conversation.
Josephine was apparently endeavoring to dissuade him from the perilous
enterprise. His perfect confidence, however seemed to assure her that
her apprehensions were groundless. At last he arose and kissed her hand.
She accompanied him to his carriage, and bade him adieu. This was their
last interview but one. Soon Napoleon returned, a fugitive from Moscow.
Days of disaster were darkening around his path. All Europe had risen in
arms against him, and were on the march toward his capital. In the midst
of the terror of those dreadful days, he sought a hurried interview with
his most faithful friend. It was their last meeting. As he was taking
his leave of Josephine, at the close of this short and melancholy visit,
he gazed upon her