"I do not at all dread the prolongation of the troubles in Piedmont[142] in its immediate results; but it may produce a distant evil by justifying the military intervention of Austria and Russia. The Russian Army is still moving, and has received no counter-order. "See if, in that case, it would not be for the dignity and security of France to occupy Savoy with twenty-five thousand men during the whole time that Russia and Austria would occupy Piedmont. I am persuaded that that act of vigour and of high policy, while flattering French _amour-propre_, would, for that reason alone, be very popular and do infinite honour to the ministers. Ten thousand men of the Royal Guard and a selection from the rest of our troops would easily make you up an army of twenty-five thousand excellent and trusty soldiers: the white cockade will be secured as soon as it has faced the enemy. "I know, monsieur le baron, that we must avoid wounding French _amour-propre_ and that the domination of the Russians and Austrians in Italy may revolt our military pride; but we have an easy means of contenting it, that is, to occupy Savoy ourselves. The Royalists will be charmed and the Liberals can only applaud when they see us take up an attitude worthy of our strength. We should at the same time have the good fortune to crush a demagogic revolution and the honour of restoring the preponderance of our arms. It would show a poor acquaintance with the French spirit to be afraid of collecting twenty-five thousand men to march into a foreign country and to cut an equal figure with the Russians and Austrians as a military power. I would answer for the event with my head. We have been able to remain neutral in the Neapolitan affair; can we afford to do so, for our safety and for our glory, in the Piedmontese troubles?" Here my whole system lies disclosed: I was a Frenchman; I had a bold policy long before the Spanish War, and I foresaw the responsibility which my very successes, if I obtained any, would cause to weigh upon my head. [Sidenote: A recollection of Mirabeau.] All that I am recalling here can doubtless interest nobody; but that is the drawback of Memoirs: when they have no historical facts to relate, they tell you only about the author's person and weary your life out with it. Let us abandon these forgotten shadows! I prefer to remind you that Mirabeau, then unknown, was, in 1786, fulfilling in Berlin an unsuspected mission[143], and that he was obliged to train a pigeon to announce to the King of France the last breath of the terrible Frederic.