“Monsieur the Duke,” said I, “that proverb is wrong. Every great man is a great man in the eyes of his valet.”
At this session the Duke d’Aumale, having attained his twenty-fifth birthday, took his seat for the first time. The Duke de Nemours and the Prince de Joinville were seated near him in their usual places behind the ministerial bench. They were not among those who laughed the least.
The Duke de Nemours, being the youngest member of his committee, fulfilled the functions of secretary, as is customary. M. de Montalembert wanted to spare him the trouble. “No,” said the prince, “it is my duty.” He took the urn and, as secretary, went the round of the table to collect the votes.
At the close of the session of January 21, 1847, at which the Chamber of Peers discussed Cracow and kept silent concerning the frontier of the Rhine, I descended the grand staircase of the Chamber in company with M. de Chastellux. M. Decazes stopped me and asked:
“Well, what have you been doing during the session?”
“I have been writing to Mme. Dorval.” (I held the letter in my hand.)
“What a fine disdain! Why did you not speak?”
“On account of the old proverb: ‘He whose opinion is not shared by anybody else should think, and say nothing.’
“Did your opinion, then, differ from that of the others?”
“Yes, from that of the whole Chamber.”