or him. The
wicked and senseless beings who survive him are more worthy of your
tears, for they are doing mischief which they can never repair. But let
us not cloud the present moments by any thoughts of their guilt. I wish,
on the contrary, to brighten these hours by the reflection that I have
enjoyed the affection of a lovely woman, and that our union would have
been an uninterrupted course of happiness, but for errors which I was
too late to acknowledge and atone for. This thought wrings tears from my
eyes, though your generous heart pardons me. But this is no time to
revive the recollection of my errors and of your wrongs. What thanks I
owe to Providence, who will reward you.

"That Providence disposes of me before my time. This is another
blessing, for which I am grateful. Can a virtuous man live happy when he
sees the whole world a prey to the wicked? I should rejoice in being
taken away, were it not for the thought of leaving those I love behind
me. But if the thoughts of the dying are presentiments, something in my
heart tells me that these horrible butcheries are drawing to a close;
that the executioners will, in their turn, become victims; that the
arts and sciences will again flourish in France; that wise and moderate
laws will take the place of cruel sacrifices, and that you will at
length enjoy the happiness which you have deserved. Our children will
discharge the debt for their father.

* * * * *

"I resume these incoherent and almost illegible lines, which were
interrupted by the entrance of my jailer. I have submitted to a cruel
ceremony, which, under any other circumstances, I would have resisted at
the sacrifice of my life. Yet why should we rebel against necessity?
Reason tells us to make the best of it we can. My hair has been cut off.
I had some idea of buying a part of it, in order to leave to my wife and
children an unequivocal pledge of my last recollection of them. Alas! my
heart breaks at the very thought, and my tears bedew the paper on which
I am writing. Adieu, all that I love. Think of me, and do not forget
that to die the victim of tyrants and the martyrs of liberty sheds
lustre on the scaffold."

Josephine did not receive this letter until after her husband's
execution. The next afternoon one of the daily papers was brought into
the prison of the Carmelites. Josephine anxiously ran her eye over the
record of the executions, and found the name of her husb