At the end of 1814 unequivocal indications of a great catastrophe were observable.  About that time a man, whom I much esteem, and with whom I have always been on terms of friendship, said to me, “You see how things are going on:  they are committing fault upon fault.  You must be convinced that such a state of things cannot last long.  Between ourselves, I am of opinion that all will be over in the month of March; that month will repair the disgrace of last March.  We shall then, once for all, be delivered from fanaticism and the emigrants.  You see the intolerable spirit of hypocrisy that prevails, and you know that the influence of the priests is, of all things, the most hateful to the nation.  We have gone back a long way within the last eight months.  I fear you will repent of having taken too active a part in affairs at the commencement of the present year.  You see we have gone a very different way from what you expected.  However, as I have often told you before, you had good reason to complain; and after all, you acted to the best of your judgment.”

I did not attach much importance to this prediction of a change in the month of March.  I deplored, as every one did, the inconceivable errors of “Ferrand and Company,” and I hoped that the Government would gradually return to those principles which were calculated to conciliate the feelings of the people.  A few days after another of my friends called on me.  He had exercised important functions, and his name had appeared on a proscription list.  He had claims upon the Government, which was by no means favourably disposed towards him.  I asked him how things were going on, and he replied, “Very well; no opposition is made to my demands.  I have no reason to complain.”  This reminded me of the man in the ’Lettres Persanes’, who admired the excellent order of the finances under Colbert because his pension was promptly paid.  I congratulated my friend on the justice which the Government rendered him, as well as on the justice which he rendered to the Government, and I remarked that if the same course were adopted towards every one all parties would speedily be conciliated.  “I do not think so,” said my friend.  “If the Government persist in its present course it cannot possibly stand, and we shall have the Emperor back again.”—­“That,” said I, “would be a very great misfortune; and even if such were the wish of France, it would be opposed by Europe.  You who are so devotedly attached to France cannot be indifferent to the danger that would threaten her if the presence of Bonaparte should bring the foreigners back again.  Can you endure to think of the dismemberment of our country?”—­“That they would never dare to attempt.  But you and I can never agree on the question of the Emperor and your Bourbons.  We take a totally different view of the matter.  You had cause to complain of Bonaparte, but I had only reason to be satisfied with him.  But tell me, what would you do if he were to return?”—­