“M. de Talleyrand _did not_ foresee this possibility. The souvenirs of youth came back upon his age, and showed him the people conquering, using and abusing the right that conquest gives; pillaging the hotels of the _noblesse_, and, in bloody triumph, sparing no superiority, either of station, rank, or fortune; and, it might be also, if the truth were known, trembling himself to be the first victim of popular rage; for he knew that the people loved him not: he had been the instrument of the restoration of the Bourbons. Such were the thoughts which occupied the mind of M. de Talleyrand during the first of these days, and, with those who can bear witness to the uneasiness which he betrayed during those hours of doubt and terror, he is perfectly exonerated from the suspicion of having _prepared_ the change which was taking place before his eyes. “On the second day, the 28th, when the people were combating against the king’s troops for the possession of the Hôtel de Ville, while the air was filled with the old and dreaded sounds, the cannon’s roar, the tocsin’s boom, his confidence in the success of the king’s power of defence forsook him at once, and he then pronounced the memorable sentence which has since become familiar to the readers of French literature: ‘The cannon which is fired against the people cannot but shake the sovereign’s throne.’ At the moment when the tocsin announced the triumph of the people at the Hôtel de Ville, he looked at the clock upon the mantelpiece. It was then just upon the stroke of five. ‘A few minutes more,’ exclaimed he, ‘and Charles X. is no longer King of France.’ “One good instance of his presence of mind occurred at this very moment, for he turned to his valet-de-chambre, and made him immediately collect together the men-servants of the hotel, and take down the words ‘HOTEL TALLEYRAND,’ which flaunted in large golden characters over the gateway, the feudal pride of other times. “I still maintain the perfect conviction that, even up to the very hour of which I speak, he was undecided as to the course he would adopt; he was evidently waiting for the issue of the struggle. Public rumour has lent him a _bon mot_, which is certainly in his style, although I was with him the whole day, and did not hear him pronounce it. “‘Hark! the tocsin ceases—we triumph!’ “‘_We!_ who, mon prince?’ “‘Chut, not a word! I will tell you that to-morrow.’