On the occasion of my visit he was slightly ill, and it did not take me long to discover that the cause of his indisposition was mental rather than physical. It was not surprising, considering the misfortunes that had accumulated around him. There were the disasters of France, the fall of Napoleon, the loss of a brilliant position, and, to fill his cup of grief, the death of his mother, whom he worshipped. His position at Vienna was constrained and more or less false. His reception there had been the subject of diplomatic discussions; but for the persistence of his father-in-law, the King of Bavaria, and the affection of Emperor Alexander, he would probably have been excluded. In spite of this, the fact of his being the adopted son of Napoleon could not be forgotten. It was, moreover, well known that his noble character would never belie itself, and that he would bring all his influence to bear in favour of the man who had been his benefactor. Between the Powers celebrating France’s reverses with fêtes and the representatives of the government of the Bourbons, he seemed isolated amidst that crowd and in that whirlpool of pleasure. He welcomed me in his cordial and amicable way. Glad to find somebody with whom he could talk about his recollections, he referred to his past, which was so brilliant and glorious. His attitude and the expression of his face were stamped with a melancholy that could not fail to win one’s heart. We went over the various phases of his military career, when all at once he became most animated. Yielding to a strong emotion, he carried me with him to Egypt, and began to describe the loss of his first friend, killed by his side by a cannon ball at the battle of the Pyramids. At the last words of that mournful story I noticed his eyes filling with tears, which he vainly endeavoured to repress. In order to divert his thoughts to brighter subjects, I spoke to him of our first meeting at a luncheon given by Mme. Récamier during the short-lived Peace of Amiens, a luncheon graced by the presence of all the celebrities of France and England. As a matter of course, our conversation drifted to all the gay doings of Vienna during the last few weeks, and also of those to come. I soon noticed, though, that all those functions, so intoxicating to the majority of both actors and spectators, constantly reminded him of the sad cause nearest to his heart. I was not sorry, then, when we were interrupted by the servant announcing the Emperor of Russia, who, according to his custom, came to take him, without any ceremony, for a walk in the Prater. I took my leave of him, after he had made me promise to come and see him often. I need not say that I gladly acceded to his request, and that the duty really became a pleasure.