acuteness and precision. His words were no less pointed and sharp
than the edge of his sword, and as brief, stern, and cold as the
utterances of a Cato.

He then paused for a moment, not in order to collect his thoughts,
but only to give his secretary a few seconds' rest, and to get a
breathing-spell for himself.

"Let us go on now," he said, after a short interval, and dictated in
an enthusiastic voice, and with flaming eyes: "If I have been
mistaken in my calculations, my heart is pure, and my intentions are
well meaning. I have not listened to the promptings of glory, of
vanity and ambition; I have only regarded the welfare of the country
and government. If they should not approve of my actions and views,
nothing is left to me but to step back into the crowd, put on the
wooden shoes of Cincinnatus, and give an example of respect for the
government, and of aversion to military rule, which has destroyed so
many republics, and annihilated so many states." [Footnote:
Bonaparte's own words.--"Memoires d'un Homme d'Etat," vol. iv., p.
558.]

"Are you through?" asked Bonaparte, drawing a long breath.

"Yes, general, I am."

"Then take another sheet, my friend. We are going to write now to
the sly fox who generally perceives every hole where he may slip in,
and who has such an excellent nose that he scents every danger and
every advantage from afar. But this time he has lost the trail and
is entirely mistaken. I will, therefore, show him the way. 'To