g to account the attachment which the people
evinced for him. On his return to the Palace some prudent persons
ventured to represent to him that, instead of courting this absurd sort
of popularity it would be more advisable to rely on the nobility and the
higher classes of society. "Gentlemen," replied he, "you may say what
you please, but in the situation in which I stand my only nobility is
the rabble of the faubourgs, and I know of no rabble but the nobility
whom I have created." This was a strange compliment to all ranks, for
it was only saying that they were all rabble together.

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, o