On this immense and imposing theatre we marched, accompanied, as it were, by the acclamations of all nations:  proud of exalting our grateful age above all other ages, we already beheld it great from our greatness, and completely irradiated by our glory.

At our return, already so ardently wished for, with what almost respectful consideration, with what enthusiasm should we be received by our wives, our countrymen, and even by our parents!  We should form, during the rest of our lives, a particular class of beings, at whom they would not look but with astonishment, to whom they would not listen but with mingled curiosity and admiration!  Crowds would throng about us wherever we passed; they would catch up our most unmeaning words.  This miraculous conquest would surround us with a halo of glory:  henceforward people would fancy that they breathed about us an air of prodigy and wonder.

When these proud thoughts gave place to more moderate sentiments, we said to ourselves, that this was the promised term of our labours; that at length we should pause, since we could no longer be surpassed by ourselves, after a noble expedition, the worthy parallel to that of Egypt, and the successful rival of all the great and glorious wars of antiquity.

At that moment, dangers, sufferings were all forgotten.  Was it possible to purchase too dearly the proud felicity of being able to say, during the rest of life, “I belonged to the army of Moscow!”

Well, comrades, even now, amidst our abasement, and though it dates from that fatal city, is not this reflexion of a noble exultation sufficiently powerful to console us, and to make us proudly hold up our heads, bowed down by misfortune?

Napoleon himself hastened up.  He paused in transport:  an exclamation of joy escaped his lips.  Ever since the great battle, the discontented marshals had shunned him:  but at the sight of captive Moscow, at the intelligence of the arrival of a flag of truce, struck with so important a result, and intoxicated with all the enthusiasm of glory, they forgot their grievances.  They pressed around the emperor, paying homage to his good fortune, and already tempted to attribute to his genius the little pains he had taken on the 7th to complete his victory.

But in Napoleon first emotions were of short duration.  He had too much to think of, to indulge his sensations for any length of time.  His first exclamation was:  “There, at last, is that famous city!” and the second:  “It was high time!”

His eyes, fixed on that capital, already expressed nothing but impatience:  in it he beheld in imagination the whole Russian empire.  Its walls enclosed all his hopes,—­peace, the expenses of the war, immortal glory:  his eager looks therefore intently watched all its outlets.  When will its gates at length open?  When shall he see that deputation come forth, which will place its wealth, its population, its senate, and the principal of the Russian nobility