"Soldiers of the national guard, this very morning the telegraph of Lyons has informed me, that the tricoloured flag is waving at Antibes and at Marseilles. The discharge of a hundred cannon on our frontiers will proclaim to foreign nations, that our civil discords are at an end: _I say foreign nations, because we yet know of none that are enemies._ If they assemble their troops, we will assemble ours. All our armies are composed of brave men, who have distinguished themselves in various battles, and who will display to foreigners a barrier of iron; while numerous battalions of grenadiers and chasseurs of the national guards will secure our frontiers. I shall not interfere with the affairs of foreign nations: wo to those governments, that shall interfere with ours! Misfortunes have tempered anew the character of the French people: it has resumed that youth, that vigour, which astonished Europe twenty years ago. "Soldiers, you have been obliged to wear colours proscribed by the nation. But the national colours remained in your hearts: you now swear, to take them always for your rallying signal, and to defend the imperial throne, the only and natural guarantie of our rights; you swear never to suffer foreigners, in whose country we have appeared repeatedly as masters, to interfere with our constitution or government. In fine, you swear, to sacrifice every thing to the honour and independence of France." This oath was pronounced with enthusiasm. The national guard showed, that it was not afraid of being taken at its word. Apprehensions had been entertained, that the guards, who had long borne the Parisians a grudge for having surrendered so promptly in 1814, would indulge in some offensive reproaches: but Napoleon had enjoined his grenadiers to maintain silence; and, in order to complete the reconciliation, he caused it to be cemented by a dinner, to which the imperial guards invited the national guard and the garrison of Paris. Fifteen thousand soldiers of every description assembled at the _Champ de Mars_ under the eyes of the people of Paris: the joyous songs of the soldiers and citizens answered each other by turns, and gave a truly national character to this festival. When the repast was over, a numerous crowd of soldiers, officers, and national guards, set off for the Tuileries, carrying the bust of Napoleon crowned with laurels. When they arrived before his Majesty's windows, they saluted him with thousands and thousands of acclamations; and then they repaired to la Place Vendome, where they devoutly deposited at the foot of the monument raised to the glory of our armies the image of the hero, who had led them to victory. The Emperor, as soon as he was informed of it, ordered me to write to the minister of the police, to have the bust removed in the night. "It is not after bacchanalian orgies," said he, proudly, "that my image should be placed on the column."