The conversation continuing on the two orientals, I mentioned that I had been informed the Arch-chancellor Cambacérès once gave them a grand dinner. Though both from the same quarter, and members of the same religion, yet they nevertheless evinced shades of character totally different. The Turk, who was a disciple of Omar, was the Jansenist, and the Persian, who was a sectary of Ali, was the Jesuit. It was said that, at Cambacérès’ dinner, they scrupulously watched each other with regard to the wine, just as two Catholic Bishops seated at the same table might be expected to keep a vigilant look out, lest either should be tempted to eat meat on a Friday.
The Turk was gloomy and ignorant, and was looked upon as little better than a brute; but the Persian possessed literary information, was very talkative, and had the reputation of being a clever man. It was observed that he made no use of a knife and fork, either in eating or helping himself to any dish at table; and he probably would not have hesitated to help his neighbours in the same unceremonious way. One of our customs particularly attracted his notice; this was our practice of eating bread with every dish. He said he could not conceive why we were obliged always to eat the same article with every thing.
I believe I have already remarked that nothing amuses the Emperor so much as accounts of the fashionable world in Paris, anecdotes of our drawing-rooms, &c.
The Emigrants and the Faubourg St. Germain were subjects on which he was always fond of conversing with me when we were alone, and he accounted for this by saying to me once, “I was well acquainted with every thing that had relation to myself, but I never knew any thing of those affairs.” He observed, that he had nevertheless a natural desire to learn every thing that was passing near him, and to hear the chit-chat of little towns, &c. “I heard a great deal on these subjects,” added he, “during the period of my power; but whenever any thing favourable was said, I put myself on my guard—I was fearful of insinuations; and if, on the contrary, any thing unfavourable was reported to me, I mistrusted the accusation, and had enough to do to guard against a feeling of contempt. Here, my dear Las Cases, none of these disadvantages exist; you and I already belong to the other world; we are conversing in the Elysian fields: you are without interested views, and I am without suspicion.” I therefore eagerly seized every opportunity that offered itself to entertain the Emperor in this way. He perceived this, and gave me credit for my intentions; for, at the conclusion of one of my stories, he pinched my ear, and said, in a tone of voice which delighted me: “I read a story in your Atlas of a Northern Monarch who was immured in a prison, and one of his soldiers solicited and obtained permission to be imprisoned with him, in order that he might cheer his spirits, either by inducing him to converse, or by relating amusing stories to him. My dear Las Cases, you are that soldier.”...