The reader must not expect to find in these Memoirs an uninterrupted
series of all the events which marked the great career of Napoleon; nor
details of all those battles, with the recital of which so many eminent
men have usefully and ably occupied themselves. I shall say little about
whatever I did not see or hear, and which is not supported by official
documents.

Perhaps I shall succeed in confirming truths which have been doubted, and
in correcting errors which have been adopted. If I sometimes differ from
the observations and statements of Napoleon at St. Helena, I am far from
supposing that those who undertook to be the medium of communication
between him and the public have misrepresented what he said. I am well
convinced that none of the writers of St. Helena can be taxed with the
slightest deception; disinterested zeal and nobleness of character are
undoubted pledges of their veracity. It appears to me perfectly certain
that Napoleon stated, dictated, or corrected all they have published.
Their honour is unquestionable; no one can doubt it. That they wrote
what he communicated must therefore be believed; but it cannot with equal
confidence be credited that what he communicated was nothing but the
truth. He seems often to have related as a fact what was really only an
idea,--an idea, too, brought forth at St. Helena, the child of
misfortune, and transported by his imagination to Europe in the time of
his prosperity. His favourite phrase, which was every moment on his
lips, must not be forgotten--"What will history say--what will posterity
think?" This passion for leaving behind him a celebrated name is one
which helongs to the constitution of the human mind; and with Napoleon
its influence was excessive. In his first Italian campaign he wrote thus
to General Clarke: "That ambition and the occupation of high offices were
not sufficient for his satisfaction and happiness, which he had early
placed in the opinion of Europe and the esteem of posterity." He often
observed to me that with him the opinion of posterity was the real
immortality of the soul.

It may easily be conceived that Napoleon wished to give to the documents
which he knew historians would consult a favourable colour, and to
direct, according to his own views, the judgment of posterity on his
actions: But it is only by the impartial comparison of periods,
positions, and age that a well founded decision will be given. About his
fortieth year the ph