, and almost escaping disgrace, has passed through so many
eventful periods, and taken part in so many convulsions and revolutions.

On the 7th of July the King was told that Fouche alone could smooth the
way for his entrance into Paris, that he alone could unlock the gates of
the capital, and that he alone had power to control public opinion. The
reception given to the King on the following day afforded an opportunity
of judging of the truth of these assertions. The King's presence was the
signal for a feeling of concord, which was manifested in a very decided
way. I saw upon the boulevards, and often in company with each other,
persons, some of whom had resumed the white cockade, while others still
retained the national colours, and harmony was not in the least disturbed
by these different badges.

Having returned to private life solely on account of Fouche's presence in
the Ministry, I yielded to that consolation which is always left to the
discontented. I watched the extravagance and inconsistency that were
passing around me, and the new follies which were every day committed;
and it must be confessed that a rich and varied picture presented itself
to my observation. The King did not bring back M. de Blacas. His
Majesty had yielded to prudent advice, and on arriving at Mons sent the
unlucky Minister as his ambassador to Naples. Vengeance was talked of,
and there were some persons inconsiderate enough to wish that advantage
should be taken of the presence of the foreigners in order to make what
they termed "an end of the Revolution," as if there were any other means
of effecting that object than frankly adopting whatever good the
Revolution had produced. The foreigners observed with satisfaction the
disposition of these shallow persons, which they thought might be turned
to their own advantage. The truth is, that on the second Restoration our
pretended allies proved themselves our enemies.

But for them, but for their bad conduct, their insatiable exactions, but
for the humiliation that was felt at seeing foreign cannon planted in the
streets of Paris, and beneath the very windows of the Palace, the days
which followed the 8th of July might have been considered by the Royal
Family as the season of a festival. Every day people thronged to the
garden of the Tuileries, and expressed their joy by singing and dancing
under the King's windows.

This ebullition of feeling might perhaps be thought absurd, but it at
least