"General," I replied, "I believe we have reached a crisis of social genesis, to which every man is called upon to contribute, either his physical or mental powers, either materially or intellectually: the poet with his pen, the painter with his brush, the mathematician with his compass, the workman with his rule, the soldier with his gun, the officer with his sword, the peasant with his vote. Very well, then, I bring my contribution as poet: my part is the desire to do good, scornful of danger, hopeful of success. Frankly speaking, I do not esteem myself greater than I really am. Do not value me at my own estimation, but at yours."
"Good!... after breakfast you shall have your letter."
We sat down to table. General La Fayette had a delightful mind, fair and sensible: he erred on the side of goodness, but not from want of ability; he had seen much, and this made up for his lack of book-knowledge. Think what it was for a young man like me, to talk face to face with the history of half a century—as it were; with the man who had known Richelieu, shaken hands with Major André, argued with Franklin, been the friend of Washington, the ally of the native tribes of Canada, the brother of Bailly, one of the denouncers of Marat, the man who saved the queen's life, the antagonist of Mirabeau, the prisoner of Olmütz, the representative abroad of French chivalry, the upholder of liberty in France, the person who became a hero by proclaiming the rights of man in the Revolution of 1789, and again made himself a prominent figure by the part he took in the programme of affairs at the Hôtel de Ville in the Revolution of 1830! Alas! I was terribly ignorant of history at that time, and my admiration of the general was so much that of an amateur as hardly to be flattering to him. This world-wide conversation brought us by degrees to dessert and naturally led us back to the topic suggested by my question.
"Now, General," I asked him, "will it be impertinent of me to repeat what I said yesterday? How has it come about that, after having taken part in all the conspiracies of Béfort, Saumur and la Rochelle, you were never put to inconvenience?"
The general got up, went to a secretaire, opened it, pulled from it a locked portfolio and took out a paper which he kept in the palm of his left hand; with this he returned and sat down at the table again.
"Have you ever heard of a man called Thomas de Mahi, Marquis de Favras?" he asked me.
"Was he not the leader of a plot who was executed in 1790 or 1791?"
"Precisely the same.... He was the first and last nobleman who was hanged. He plotted on behalf of Monsieur the king's brother, and tried to carry off poor Louis XVI. from the Tuileries, whether voluntarily or by force, and to transport him to some strongly fortified place or other, in order to get Monsieur appointed regent."
"Monsieur, who afterwards became Louis XVIII.?"