“No doubt they deemed that the proceedings there taking place were big with the fate of the empire—the destiny of thousands of their fellow-countrymen. Each time that any form of more than ordinary dimensions happened to pass before the windows, it was immediately taken for that of the king, and was greeted with loud shouting and applause, which, however, failed to reach the ear of him for whom it was intended, and who still slumbered on, all unconscious either of the disappointment of those within or the expectation of those without. “This apparently insipid and eventless dinner was to me one of the most extraordinary and interesting I ever remember, and it has remained a _souvenir_, when others, more remarkable for the wit and spirit of the guests or the generosity of the entertainer, have long ago been forgotten. It placed me at once _au courant_ as to the views and habits of our ‘restored sovereign.’ In no one of the anticipations formed from this interview was I deceived. Selfish, insensible, luxurious, ungrateful, did I ever find him. This dinner at Compiègne was the very picture of his whole reign, and he fully justified the words of my honest friend Dunoyer—‘Among the millions of human lives confided to his charge, there is but _one_ of value in his eyes; and that one the most valueless of all to the whole world besides.’” “This repast must have equalled in its interest the famous dinner of the Consulte, eh? you remember, prince?” said the Count de Montrond, who had been listening attentively. “Indeed, I do remember, and more’s the pity,” returned the prince, with a gentle laugh, “and I often wish that I could forget the circumstances attendant on that dinner. People talk of the _sublime_ and ridiculous; but the _horrible_ and ridiculous which were mingled in that scene rendered it altogether one of the most powerful and extraordinary of any I have ever witnessed, either mimicked on the stage or played in real life. I must tell you that I had considered myself extremely fortunate in my transactions with the representatives of the different Italian States who had assembled at Lyons to negotiate for the protection of their liberties by France. There remained but one clause of our treaty to be disputed—the most knotty point of all, and the one which I felt would exercise my utmost powers of persuasion when it came to be discussed in council. In order to conciliate as much as possible the opposing belligerents, I had been obliged to have recourse to the bait which seldom fails, if well ordered and well executed, that of a _dîner diplomatique_, trusting to my worthy ally, Carême, who, in cookery, had talent enough in his own person to finish what our united talents in diplomacy had so well begun.