een the king and his family, were not
insensible to the tears of that august and unfortunate monarch, and
sincerely prayed, that his flight might be exempted from danger and
trouble.

It was supposed, that Napoleon would make a triumphal entry into his
capital. His old grenadiers, who had marched in seventeen days a
distance that would commonly require five-and-forty, seemed, as they
approached their object, to acquire fresh strength at every step. On
the road you might see them in agitation, pressing upon and
encouraging one another. They would have marched twenty leagues in an
hour, if necessary, not to be deprived of the honour of entering Paris
by the side of Napoleon. Their hopes were disappointed: the Emperor,
who had witnessed their fatigues, ordered them to take a day's rest
at Fontainbleau.

At two o'clock on the 20th of March, Napoleon set out for Paris.
Retarded by the crowd, that accumulated on his way, and by the
felicitations of the troops and the generals, who had run to meet him,
he could not reach it till nine in the evening. As soon as he
alighted, the people rushed on him; a thousand arms lifted him up, and
carried him along in triumph. Nothing could be more affecting than the
confused assembly of the crowd of officers and generals, who had
pressed into the apartments of the Tuileries at the heels of Napoleon.
Happy to see themselves once more triumphant, after so many
vicissitudes, humiliations, and disgusts, they forgot the majesty of
the place, to give themselves up without constraint to the desire of
expressing their happiness and joy. They ran to one another, and
hugged each other again and again. The halls of the palace seemed
metamorphosed into a field of battle, where friends, brothers,
unexpectedly escaped from death, found and embraced one another after
victory.

We had been so spoiled on the road, however, that the Emperor's
reception by the Parisians did not answer our expectations.
Multiplied shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" saluted him on his way;
but they wanted those characters of unanimity and frenzy, which were
displayed by the acclamations, that had accompanied him from the gulf
of Juan to the gates of Paris. It would be a mistake, however, to
infer, that the Parisians did not behold the return of Napoleon with
pleasure. We must only conclude, therefore, that the Emperor missed
the proper time for his entrance.

The people of great cities are eager for sights: to move their