guilt I would have intimated to him that the suspicions against him were so strong as to render any further connection between us impossible; and that the best course he could pursue would be to leave France for three years, under the pretext of visiting some of the places rendered celebrated during the late wars; but that if he preferred a diplomatic mission I would make a suitable provision for his expenses; and the great innovator, Time, might effect great changes during the period of his absence.  But my foolish Council affirmed to me that his guilt, as a principal, being evident, it was absolutely necessary to bring him to trial; and now his sentence is only that of a pickpocket.  What think you I ought to do?  Detain him?  He might still prove a rallying-point.  No.  Let him sell his property and quit?  Can I confine him in the Temple?  It is full enough without him.  Still, if this had been the only great error they had led me to commit—­”

“Sire, how greatly you have been deceived.”

“Oh yes, I have been so; but I cannot see everything with my own eyes.”

At this part of our conversation, of which I have suppressed my own share as much as possible, I conceived that the last words of Bonaparte alluded to the death of the Duc d’Enghien; and I fancied he was about to mention that event but he again spoke of Moreau.

“He is very much mistaken,” resumed the Emperor, “if he conceives I bore any ill-will towards him.  After his arrest I sent Lauriston to the Temple, whom I chose because he was of an amiable and conciliating disposition; I charged him to tell Moreau to confess he had only seen Pichegru, and I would cause the proceedings against him to be suspended.  Instead of receiving this act of generosity as he ought to have done, he replied to it with great haughtiness, so much was he elated that Pichegru had not been arrested; he afterwards, however, lowered his tone.  He wrote to me a letter of excuse respecting his anterior conduct, which I caused to be produced on the trial.  He was the author of his own ruin; besides, it would have required men of a different stamp from Moreau to conspire against me.  Amoung, the conspirators, for example, was an individual whose fate I regret; this Georges in my hands might have achieved great things.  I can duly appreciate the firmness of character he displayed, and to which I could have given a proper direction.  I caused Real to intimate to him that, if he would attach himself to me, not only should he be pardoned, but that I would give him the command of a regiment.  Perhaps I might even have made him my aide de camp.  Complaints would have been made, but, parbleu, I should not have cared.  Georges refused all my offers; he was as inflexible as iron.  What could I do? he underwent his fate, for he was a dangerous man; circumstances rendered his death a matter of necessity.  Examples of severity were called for, when England was pouring into France the whole offscouring of the emigration;