“Colonel Michaud, do not forget what I say to you here, perhaps we may recall it with pleasure someday … Napoleon or I,” said the Emperor, touching his breast. “We can no longer both reign together. I have learned to know him, and he will not deceive me any more. …”
And the Emperor paused, with a frown.
When he heard these words and saw the expression of firm resolution in the Emperor’s eyes, Michaud— quoique étranger, russe de coeur et d’âme, —at that solemn moment felt himself enraptured by all that he had heard (as he used afterwards to say), and gave expression to his own feelings and those of the Russian people whose representative he considered himself to be, in the following words:
“Sire!” said he, “Your Majesty is at this moment signing the glory of the nation and the salvation of Europe!”
With an inclination of the head the Emperor dismissed him.
IV
It is natural for us who were not living in those days to imagine that when half Russia had been conquered and the inhabitants were fleeing to distant provinces, and one levy after another was being raised for the defense of the fatherland, all Russians from the greatest to the least were solely engaged in sacrificing themselves, saving their fatherland, or weeping over its downfall. The tales and descriptions of that time without exception speak only of the self-sacrifice, patriotic devotion, despair, grief, and the heroism of the Russians. But it was not really so. It appears so to us because we see only the general historic interest of that time and do not see all the personal human interests that people had. Yet in reality those personal interests of the moment so much transcend the general interests that they always prevent the public interest from being felt or even noticed. Most of the people at that time paid no attention to