iving him time to fix his thoughts.

Succeeding these times of activity which made one's brain whirl, there
came to me the most absolute repose in an isolated retreat where I passed
another interval of fifteen years after leaving the Emperor. But what a
contrast! To those who have lived, like myself, amid the conquests and
wonders of the Empire, what is left to-day? If the strength of our
manhood was passed amid the bustle of years so short, yet so fully
occupied, our careers were sufficiently long and fruitful, and it is time
to give ourselves up to repose. We can withdraw from the world, and
close our eyes. Can it be possible to see anything equal to what we have
seen? Such scenes do not come twice in the lifetime of any man; and
having seen them, they suffice to occupy his memory through all his
remaining years, and in retirement he can find nothing better to occupy
his leisure moments than the recollections of what he has witnessed.

Thus it has been with me. The reader will readily believe that I have
had no greater pleasure than that of recalling the memories of the years
passed in the service of the Emperor. As far as possible, I have kept
myself informed as to everything that has been written of my former
master, his family, and his court; and while listening to these
narrations read by my wife and sister at our fireside, the long evenings
have passed like an instant! When I found in these books, some of which
are truly only miserable rhapsodies, statements which were incorrect,
false, or slanderous, I, took pleasure in correcting such statements, or
in showing their absurdity. My wife, who lived, as I did, in the midst
of these events, also made her corrections, and, without other object
than our own satisfaction, made notes of our joint observations.

All who came to see us in our retreat, and took pleasure in having me
narrate what I had seen, were astonished and often indignant at the
falsehoods with which ignorance or malevolence had calumniated the
Emperor and the Empire, and expressing their gratitude for the correct
information I was able to give them, advised me also to furnish it to the
public. But I attached no importance to the suggestion, and was far from
dreaming that some day I should be the author of a book, until M.
Ladvocat came to our hermitage, and urged me earnestly to publish my
memoirs, offering himself to become the publisher.

At the very time my wife and I received this unexpected vis