When my brother quitted Versailles he was much hurt at being deprived of a considerable income for having penned a memorial which his zeal alone had dictated, and the importance of which was afterwards but too well understood.  I perceived from his correspondence that he inclined to some of the new notions.  He told me it was right he should no longer conceal from me that he sided with the constitutional party; that the King had in fact commanded it, having himself accepted the constitution; that he would proceed firmly in that course, because in this case disingenuousness would be fatal, and that he took that side of the question because he had had it proved to him that the foreign powers would not serve the King’s cause without advancing pretensions prompted by long-standing interests, which always would influence their councils; that he saw no salvation for the King and Queen but from within France, and that he would serve the constitutional King as he served him before the Revolution.  And lastly, he requested me to impart to the Queen the real sentiments of one of his Majesty’s agents at a foreign Court.  I immediately went to the Queen and gave her my brother’s letter; she read it attentively, and said, “This is the letter of a young man led astray by discontent and ambition; I know you do not think as he does; do not fear that you will lose the confidence of the King and myself.”  I offered to discontinue all correspondence with my brother; she opposed that, saying it would be dangerous.  I then entreated she would permit me in future to show her my own and my brother’s letters, to which she consented.  I wrote warmly to my brother against the course he had adopted.  I sent my letters by sure channels; he answered me by the post, and no longer touched upon anything but family affairs.  Once only he informed me that if I should write to him respecting the affairs of the day he would give me no answer.  “Serve your august mistress with the unbounded devotion which is due from you,” said he, “and let us each do our duty.  I will only observe to you that at Paris the fogs of the Seine often prevent people from seeing that immense capital, even from the Pavilion of Flora, and I see it more clearly from St. Petersburg.”  The Queen said, as she read this letter, “Perhaps he speaks but too truly; who can decide upon so disastrous a position as ours has become?” The day on which I gave the Queen my brother’s first letter to read she had several audiences to give to ladies and other persons belonging to the Court, who came on purpose to inform her that my brother was an avowed constitutionalist and revolutionist.  The Queen replied, “I know it; Madame Campan has told me so.”  Persons jealous of my situation having subjected me to mortifications, and these unpleasant circumstances recurring daily, I requested the Queen’s permission to withdraw from Court.  She exclaimed against the very idea, represented it to me as extremely dangerous