He sent for me again in the middle of the day to converse with him. One part of the conversation affords so valuable a development of Napoleon’s character that I cannot refrain from noting down some passages of it.
There occasionally arose among us transient misunderstandings and disputes, which vexed and annoyed the Emperor. He adverted to this topic. He analysed our situation with his usual train of reasoning. He calculated the miseries and horrors of our exile, and pointed out the best mode of alleviating them. He said that we ought to make mutual sacrifices, and overlook many grievances; that man can only enjoy life by controlling the character given to him by nature, or by creating to himself a new one by education, and learning to modify it according to the obstacles which he may encounter.
“You should endeavour to form but one family,” said he. “You have followed me only with the view of assuaging my sorrow. Ought not this feeling to subdue every other consideration? If sympathy alone is not sufficiently powerful, let reason be your guide. You should learn to calculate your sorrows, your sacrifices, and your enjoyments, in order to arrive at a result, just as we make additions or subtractions in every kind of calculation. All the circumstances of our lives should be submitted to this rule.... We must learn to conquer ill temper. It is natural enough that little misunderstandings should arise among you; but they should be followed by explanation, and not succeeded by ill-humour; the former will produce a result, the latter will only render the affair more complicated. Reason and logical inference should, in this world, be our constant guides.” He then proceeded to show how he had sometimes acted up to these principles, and sometimes departed from them. He added that we ought to learn to forgive, and to avoid that hostility and acrimony which must be offensive to our neighbours and prejudicial to our own happiness; that we ought to make allowance for human frailties, and humour, rather than oppose, them.
“What would have become of me,” said he, "had I not followed these maxims? It has often been said that I have been too good-natured, and not sufficiently cautious; but it would have been much worse for me had my disposition been the reverse of what it is. I have been twice betrayed, it is true; and I may be betrayed a third time. But it was my knowledge of human character, and the spirit of reasonable indulgence which I had adopted, that enabled me to govern France; and which still perhaps render me the fittest person to rule that nation, under existing circumstances. On my departure from Fontainebleau, did I not say to all who requested me to point out the line of conduct they should pursue, ‘Go, and serve the King!’ I wished to grant them lawful authority for doing what many would not have hesitated to do of their own accord. I would not allow the fidelity of some to be the cause of their ruin; and finally, above all, I did not wish to have any one to censure on my return."