At this time the Jacobins were disposed to exert every effort to serve
him; but they required to have their own way, and to be allowed freely to
excite and foster revolutionary sentiments. The press, which groaned
under the most odious and intolerable censorship, was to be wholly
resigned to them. I do not state these facts from hearsay. I happened
by chance to be present at two conferences in which were set forward
projects infected with the odour of the clubs, and these projects were
supported with the more assurance because their success was regarded as
certain. Though I had not seen Napoleon since my departure for Hamburg,
yet I was sufficiently assured of his feeling towards the Jacobins to be
convinced that he would have nothing to do with them. I was not wrong.
On hearing of the price they set on their services he said, "This is too
much; I shall have a chance of deliverance in battle, but I shall have
none with these furious blockheads. There can be nothing in common
between the demagogic principles of '93 and the monarchy, between clubs
of madmen and a regular Ministry, between a Committee of Public Safety
and an Emperor, between revolutionary tribunals and established laws.
If fall I must, I will not bequeath France to the Revolution from which I
have delivered her."

These were golden words, and Napoleon thought of a more noble and truly
national mode of parrying the danger which threatened him. He ordered
the enrolment of the National Guard of Paris, which was placed under the
command of Marshal Moncey. A better choice could not have been made, but
the staff of the National Guard was a focus of hidden intrigues, in which
the defence of Paris was less thought about than the means of taking
advantage of Napoleon's overthrow. I was made a captain in this Guard,
and, like the rest of the officers, I was summoned to the Tuileries, on
the 23d of January, when the Emperor took leave of the National Guard
previously to his departure from Paris to join the army.

Napoleon entered with the Empress. He advanced with a dignified step,
leading by the hand his son, who was not yet three years old. It was
long since I had seen him. He had grown very corpulent, and I remarked
on his pale countenance an expression of melancholy and irritability.

The habitual movement of the muscles of his neck was more decided and
more frequent than formerly. I shall not attempt to describe what were
my feelings during this ceremony, when