“The cynical M. de P——, the Director General of the bookselling trade, who was my colleague in the Council of State, seemed bent on my ruin, though I was unable to divine the cause of his animosity. While he was giving me every assurance of his readiness to serve me, he was, in an underhand way straining every nerve to injure me; and was exciting against me all the most active booksellers, whom he had induced to become the agents of his operations. Of these facts I can entertain no doubt; for the letters secretly written on this subject by P.... were confidentially communicated to me; but motives of delicacy forbid my taking the satisfaction of reproaching him with his baseness.
“He first of all intimated to me that the sheets of my Atlas could not be carried out of France, because the law permitted the exportation of books only. I then enquired whether books in sheets were suffered to be exported; and, on receiving an answer in the affirmative, I observed that my sheets must be considered merely as unbound books. M. de P.... then declared that the favour granted by the Emperor could be extended only to booksellers and not to authors; but M. de Montalivet, the Minister of the Interior, objected to this partiality and silenced M. de P..... The latter then asserted that the price of my sheets had been considerably encreased; but it was proved by reference to two hundred advertisements inserted in the Journals during the last ten years, that the price had never varied. He next alluded to the intrinsic value of the work, and affirmed that what I sold for 100 sous did not cost me more than five or six, and started many other difficulties of an equally absurd kind. Meanwhile time was flying; the ships were taking in their freights, the advantages offered by the owners were diminishing, the arbitrary valuations of the committees arrived, and I, who had persevered in my operations in spite of every difficulty, now found myself involved in a thousand anxieties and vexations, and thought myself happy in escaping absolute ruin, and being able to recover my expenses, which exceeded 80,000 francs.”
“But,” said the Emperor, “this seems almost incredible; I can scarcely conceive how all this happened. Your speculation was exactly suited to my taste; it would have advanced you in my good opinion; I should have been delighted with your activity and the method of your details. Nothing afforded me greater pleasure than to enable those around me to make their fortunes by honest means. Why did you not appeal to me? Why did you not expose the conduct of P....? You should have seen how I would have treated him.”—"Sire," I replied, "such an idea never entered my mind, the moment was critical: your time was precious. How could I hope that your Majesty would listen to me, or that I could satisfactorily explain an affair so complicated and delicate? How could I convince you that I was the author of a work that bore the name of another? What would have been thought of one so near your Majesty’s person meddling with commercial licenses and bookselling speculations? I felt that I was so little known to your Majesty that I dreaded the thought of the affair reaching your ear. Thus, though I was actively engaged in this affair, yet I exerted every endeavour to prevent its gaining publicity, and I made up my mind to suffer the worst."