of the inferiority of our navy.  A French squadron consisting of fifteen ships, fell in with the English fleet commanded by Admiral Calder, who had only nine vessels under his command, and in an engagement, which there was every reason to expect would terminate in our favour, we had the misfortune to lose two ships.  The invasion of England was as little the object of this as of the previous journey to Boulogne; all Napoleon had in view was to stimulate the enthusiasm of the troops, and to hold out those threats against England when conceived necessary for diverting attention from the real motive of his hostile preparations, which was to invade Germany and repulse the Russian troops, who had begun their march towards Austria.  Such was the true object of Napoleons last journey to Boulogne.

I had been some time at Hamburg when these events took place, and it was curious to observe the effect they produced.  But I must not forget one circumstance in which I am personally concerned, and which brings me back to the time when I was in Paris.  My new title of Minister Plenipotentiary obliged me to see a little more of society than during the period when prudence required me to live as it were in retirement.  I had received sincere congratulations from Duroc, Rape, and Lauriston, the three friends who had shown the greatest readiness to serve my interests with the Emperor; and I had frequent occasion to see M. Talleyrand, as my functions belonged to his department.  The Emperor, on my farewell audience, having informed me that I was to correspond directly with the Minister of the General Police, I called on Fouche, who invited me to spend some days at his estate of Pont-Carre.  I accepted the invitation because I wanted to confer with him, and I spent Sunday and Monday, the 28th and 29th of April, at Pont-Carre.

Fouche, like the Emperor, frequently revealed what he intended to conceal; but he had such a reputation for cunning that this sort of indiscretion was attended by no inconvenience to him.  He was supposed to be such a constant dissembler that those who did not know him well looked upon the truth when he spoke it merely as an artful snare laid to entrap them.  I, however, knew that celebrated person too well to confound his cunning with his indiscretion.  The best way to get out of him more than he was aware of was to let him talk on without interruption.  There were very few visitors at Pont-Carre, and during the two days I spent there I had several conversations with Fouche.  He told me a great deal about the events of 1804, and he congratulated himself on having advised Napoleon to declare himself Emperor—­“I have no preference,” says Fouche, “for one form of government more than another.  Forms signify nothing.  The first object of the Revolution was not the overthrow of the Bourbons, but merely the reform of abuses and the destruction of prejudices.  However, when it was discovered that Louis XVI. had neither firmness to refuse what he did not wish to