of the nobles and clergy, surrendered some of the privileges which had belonged to their orders from feudal times, but which now seemed inconsistent with the state of public opinion.

About this time a fête was given at Versailles, in which some adherents of the court, more zealous than prudent, denounced the popular party, trod the popular cockade under foot, and vowed to bring about a counter-revolution. The news of this fete was conveyed to Paris, and the mob became inflamed to the highest degree, their passions being further excited by an alarming scarcity which then prevailed at Paris. A body of persons, amounting to thirty thousand, proceeded on the 5th of October to Versailles. A dreadful scene of bloodshed took place: the mob broke into the palace, and would have murdered the queen, had she not precipitately made her escape. The tumult was stopped by the consent of the royal family to accompany the people to Paris. From this moment the fate of this unfortunate family was sealed: Louis and his family were doomed to a constant succession of insults and injuries, terminated by awful deaths. The king, the queen, Madame Elizabeth, the dauphin, and two deputies, were all put into one coach, and driven to Paris, where the king took up his residence at the Tuileries. As far as it is possible to discern motives in all this, it would seem that there was an opinion among the people, that if their king were to reside at Paris, they might obtain more ready and ample concessions, than if he were surrounded by his courtiers at Versailles.

The national assembly, which had held their sittings at Versailles, soon followed the king, and on the 19th of October, held a sitting, for the first time, in Paris. During the greater part of the next two years, the assembly held its meetings in a building near the Tuileries. The royal family were now very little better than prisoners in the Tuileries; and the popular party were levelling, one by one, the institutions which separated the nobility from the mass of the people. On the 2nd of November, 1789, the national assembly declared the possessions of the church to be the property of the nation; and soon after this, their confisca tion was decreed. Early in the following year, all religious orders and monastic vows were abolished. In May, it was decreed that the national assembly should have the right of making war or peace, the king having only the power of proposing measures to the assembly. This was shortly followed by the suppression of the hereditary nobility, coats of arms, and all distinctions of rank. All these revolutionary proceedings were not the work merely of the national assembly: there were numerous political clubs at Paris, calling themselves "Friends of the Constitution," "Jacobins," &c.; at these clubs various violent measures were proposed and carried, and then recommended to the national assembly, which was in many cases forced to yield.

In the early part of 1791, occurred a day known in the revolutionary history as La Journée des Poignards,—the day of the poignards. There was a palace at Vincennes which was at that time undergoing such repairs as might fit it for a prison; and a riotous assemblage of persons determined to demolish it; for the people had now acquired such a degree of impudence, that they scrupled not to demolish any buildings against which their ire was directed. Santerre, the commandant of the faubourg in which the mob assembled, headed the insurgents, while Lafayette, at the head of the national guards, did all he could to quell the tumult. Lafayette was several times nearly assassinated; and news arriving at Paris of what had occurred, the royal family were thrown into great alarm, as it was feared an attack was meditated on the king. A large number of nobles and others attached to the king's cause, armed themselves with swords, pistols, hunting-knives, and daggers,-proceeded to the Tuileries, and offered to defend the king, whose life they believed to be in danger. The king's person was protected by the national guards, placed there by the popular party, and as there was great distrust between them and the nobles, the king felt that however sincere their intention might have been, this manifestation of it was very unfortunate: indeed, throughout his reign, Louis frequently suffered from the imprudence of others. He ordered his friends to lay down their arms and retire, saying, "I am in perfect security in the midst of the national guards." Lafayette entered at this time, expostulated warmly with the nobles, told them the king's life was not in danger, and ordered them to deliver up their arms. They at first resisted, but the king supported Lafayette, and they yielded their arms, and had to leave the palace, amidst the hootings and insults of the national guard.

Louis now became painfully sensible how little power was left to his supporters; and he was anxious to come to some definite arrangement with the popular party, by which his situation would become less irksome, and his country less distracted by intestine commotions. It is supposed that there was an intention to make Mirabeau, the most distinguished member of the popular party, a means for bringing about an adjustment of differences; but if such were the intention, the death of Mirabeau put an end to all hopes in this respect.

In the following April a circumstance occurred, which placed the royal family in a position little better than that of state prisoners. The royal family had a palace at St. Cloud, near Paris, to which they were about to go for a short sojourn; but they had scarcely entered their carriage when the tocsin sounded from a neighbouring church, and an assemblage of persons collected in the Place du Carousel, with the determination not to permit the departure of the royal family. Lafayette and Bailly, two influential men of the popular party, used every endeavour to induce the people to disperse; but the latter not only persisted, but were aided by the national guards, who refused to disperse the people. Under these circumstances, the unfortunate king and his family were compelled to return to the palace,

But a still more painful manifestation of the supremacy of the popular over the regal power occurred in June. In the latter month, Louis and his family endeavoured to escape altogether from France; and for that purpose arranged a plan of operation with the Marquis de Bouillé, military commandant of nearly all the territory from Paris to the Netherlands. It was agreed that at midnight of the 30th of June, the whole family should leave Paris. As it was well known that any application for passports would not only have been refused, but would have subjected the king to further distrust and suspicion, fictitious passports were obtained from the minister at war, for the family of a Russian baroness, consisting of herself, two children, a female servant, a valet, and three footmen. The king dressed himself as a valet, the queen and the Princess Elizabeth personated the baroness and her maid; and the two younger children were to pass as the children of the baroness. After many unfortunate delays, the party left the Tuileries by a private entrance, separating themselves into smaller parties in order to avoid notice. They walked a few hundred yards, to the Place du Petit Carousel, where a vehicle was ready to convey them to the Barrière St. Martin, outside which a large travelling coach was stationed. But the queen, who had a guide to lead her, who appears to have been as ignorant of the streets of Paris as she herself was, mistook her route, and wandered about for a full hour before she succeeded in reaching the other members of her family, and was reduced to the hazardous necessity of asking a sentinel to direct her on her way. At length they all took their places in the travelling coach, and departed from Paris. It was, however, unfortunate that the royal fugitives had delayed their departure beyond the time fixed upon by the Marquis de Bouillé as being the most opportune; and every step they took showed the bad consequences of the delay. Whenever it was necessary to stop, the king acted his part of the valet badly; suspicion began to be excited; and at length, when the carriage reached Varennes, the civic authorities refused to admit of further progress.

THE ROYAL PREROGATIVE SUSPENDED.

The result of this discovery was, that the unfortunate family were again carried back to Paris. The first act of the assembly was to suspend the power of the king, and to keep him and the rest of the royal family in close custody. The next act was to form a constitution, differing greatly from the ancient mode of government in France, but which the king was willing to sign, under the hope that it might put an end to the troubles of his country. He went to the assembly on the 13th of September, and signed the new constitution, after which he was obliged to sit in the assembly as an undistinguished individual.

For the next nine months, the king was very little better than a cipher; and even the national assembly which had gained the victory over him, was doomed to be overpowered by a second, in which violent republican principles were dominant. The king was forced to accept a ministry composed of the republican party; and when, in June, 1792, he made an effort to escape their control, a scene occurred which showed how powerless he had become. When the popular ministers were dismissed, crowds collected in the

Faubourg St. Antoine; and there was evidently a disposition on the part of the city authorities to let the mob have their own way; and the latter certainly took advantage of the permission. On the 20th they proceeded to the hall of the assembly, and a mob-orator made a speech, censuring in the most audacious terms the president and members for not proceeding more rapidly in the march of anarchy. The tumultuous assemblage, consisting of nearly a hundred thousand men, women, and children, then proceeded to the palace, into which, after a feeble resistance from the guards, they gained admission. The humiliating scenes that followed are too sickening to be dwelt upon: for several hours the royal family were the victims of insult:-the king was compelled to put on a red cap, (a favourite symbol with the mob,) to drink their healths, and to hand the bottle round to them; and the queen was subjected to similar treatment. At length, the municipal authorities interposed; and the mob dispersed by about eight o'clock.

Demands now arose from various quarters for the dethronement of the king: the proposition was first made in the national assembly by Brissot, on the 9th of July, and was supported by many others. The assembly itself was beginning to lose power; for there were established Jacobin and other clubs, the members of which wished for nothing less than republican institutions, and who reckoned among their members, Santerre, Robespierre, Danton, and others, whose names afterwards became so terrible. These ruffians planned an attack on the Tuileries, which was put into execution on the 10th of August, accompanied by such circumstances of horror, that that day was long regarded as a marked epoch in the history of the revolution. The king was aware that something of the kind was impending, but did not know the precise day on which it would take place: and, although he was able to collect a considerable guard, he was not fully prepared for the storm. About three in the morning the insurgents ranged themselves on different sides, of the palace, as appeared most advantageous for the attack. The king was entreated by some of his adherents to save himself and family by taking refuge in the hall of the assembly; a proposition at which the queen was at first indignant, but to which she ultimately yielded, as being the only means of avoiding a ferocious attack. The hall of the assembly was near the palace, and the royal family proceeded thither by the garden entrance; but it was with difficulty that the populace would allow them to proceed. When they reached the hall, they were all put into a box at one side, and remained many hours, compelled to listen, not only to the debates, but to gross personal insult from the more violent members. Among the proceedings of the day were, the convocation of a national convention; the suspension of the power of the king; and the appointment of a new ministry, in which the most violent Jacobins were to hold situations.

But while these proceedings were going on at the hall, the palace was the scene of most dreadful slaughter. The troops left behind by the king seem to have been ignorant that he had left the palace; and they continued to defend it when, in fact, there was but little to defend. It was about nine o'clock when the people began the attack, and the Swiss guards at first made fearful havoc among them; but an order arriving from the king that they should lay down their arms, they submitted, and were conducted to the guard-house. These, however, were only a sort of advanced guard; and there still remained within the palace about eight hundred Swiss troops, besides numerous other persons. The inmates were soon forced to yield, and then commenced one of the most sanguinary massacres on record:-not only were all the troops, but also valets, servants, and the humblest members of the household, stabbed without mercy: the dead bodies were even stabbed over again, as if the taking away of life was not sufficient to glut the cruelty of the mob. By two o'clock in the day, all the guards and servants were killed, to the number of about eight hundred -stripped naked, and thrown in heaps in the court-yard in front of the Tuileries. Yet in the midst of these horrors, two circumstances seemed in some degree to mitigate the guilt of the ruffians: one was, that the female domestics were all allowed to depart unharmed; and the other was, that robbery and pillage were not countenanced for an instant; for ope man, who was detected in an act of stealing in the palace, was instantly put to death by his companions.

The king and the royal family were confined in a small room adjoining the hall of the assembly on the night succeeding this dreadful day, to be succeeded by another day similarly spent in the hall, and then by a third. Their

sole occupation was to listen to the debates and the personal abuse of the members, and they were allowed but a few minutes for taking refreshments occasionally. As it seemed decided that the king should be a state prisoner, it was a question how to dispose of him and the rest of the royal family. After much debate, it was decided that the unfortunate victims should be consigned to the Temple, with a guard of twenty men.

Thus was completed one more step in the descent from monarchy to anarchy; and the hatred for royalty seems to have spread through all the lower and even middle classes with great rapidity. Dr. Moore, who was in Paris at the time, says, that a day or two after these events, "the epithet royal, which was formerly so profusely assumed, is now carefully effaced from every shop, magazine, auberge, or hotel; all those also who were so vain of announcing over their doors that they were the tradesmen of the king or queen, or in any way employed by them, have removed every word, emblem, or sign, which could revive the remembrance of such a connexion; and at present a tailor would rather advertise that he was breeches-maker to a sans-culotte, than to a prince of the blood-royal."

It may naturally be supposed, that the removal of the royal family to the Temple, which was a kind of prison, was the forerunner of an imprisonment only to be terminated by death. While the king was in prison, the National Assembly gave way to the National Convention, a body differing from the former chiefly in being more immediately under the control of the people. The convention immediately began to make preparations for bringing the king to trial, and as it seemed not very easy to say what crimes he could be accused of, the violent party made the most of the contents of an iron chest which was about that time discovered in the Tuileries; this chest is said to have contained various' documents relating to the attempts of the king to check the progress of the revolution. Some persons have supposed that these papers were forged by the Jacobins, on purpose to obtain articles of accusation against him; but whether this were the case or not, the members of the convention did not fail to make use of them.

TRIAL, CONDEMNATION, AND EXECUTION OF THE KING. On the 11th of December, the king was called to the bar to take his trial, and was hurried from his apartment in such haste, that he had to crave a morsel of bread before he could enter the hall. He stood uncovered on the hall floor, while the President, seated on a kind of throne, questioned him in the rudest manner. The king answered these questions in a mild but dignified manner; and after an examination of three hours he retired. About a fortnight afterwards, he was again brought up, in order to make his defence. This he had intrusted to MM. Desèze, Malesherbes, and Tronchet; the first of whom made an eloquent and fearless address in behalf of the unfortunate monarch. Then succeeded an adjourned debate of several days' duration, on the question whether or not the king was guilty; and it was not until the 15th of January, 1793, that the vote was given in the affirmative. It was then debated whether death should be the punishment; and this also was decided in the affirmative, although by a small majority.

Early in the morning of the 17th, sentence of death was passed, and Malesherbes proceeded to the Temple, to inform the royal victim of the result. He found him prepared for the worst, but not able to resist a pang, when told that his relation, the Duke of Orléans, had voted for his death; nor able to forget the desolate position in which his death would leave the queen and her children. Malesherbes, an attached friend to the king, was not allowed to visit him a second time; and he saw no one but persons connected with the convention. On Sunday, the 20th, a deputation from the convention acquainted him that he was to be executed within twenty-four hours: he received the information without emotion; and gave them a paper containing a request, that he might have three days to pre pare himself for another world, that he might have a priest to attend him,-that there might be a relaxation of the strict watch kept over his every action,-that he might see his family, and that, after his death, they might be permitted to leave France without molestation. In the evening he obtained for answer, that he might have a priest to attend him, and might see his family: his request for a postponement of the execution was flatly refused. At about eight o'clock, the royal family were admitted to him, and remained about an hour and a half: what passed at this agonizing interview may be conceived, as the following

morning was to be the last of the unhappy king's life. The queen, dauphin, &c., then left him; and he passed two hours with his confessor; after which he retired to rest. On the following morning he rose at four, took the sacrament at six, and prepared himself for the last mournful act. The ruffian Santerre, with some of the gensdarmes, came for him at nine o'clock. The king had on the previous day prepared his will, and handing it to Jacques Roux, a priest who accompanied Santerre, he said, "I request that you will give this paper to the queen,-to my wife." The priest refused to take it, and said, "That is no business of mine; I am here to conduct you to the scaffold." The insulted monarch then prevailed on one of the other members of the deputation to take charge of the paper, and they proceeded to the place of execution.

We shall hereafter, in our description of Paris, have to speak of the Place Louis XV.: this was an open square which afterwards became the scene of the butcheries perpetrated by Robespierre. The king and his confessor were put into a carriage, and driven slowly to this place, through streets lined with armed citizens, and preceded by drums, which were played loudly to avoid any cries in favour of the king being heard. When the carriage stopped, the king was conducted to the scaffold: he was dressed in a private suit, and was ordered to take off his coat the better to enable the executioner to perform his bloody office. He wished to address the people; but the authorities ordered the drums to be beaten all the more loudly, in order to drown his voice; and the only words he was heard to utter, were, "People! I die innocent! Gentlemen, I am innocent of all they accuse me of; may my blood cement the happiness of Frenchmen!' He was interrupted by some ruffians, dragged to the axe: decapitated in a few seconds, and his head shown round to the people. Cries of "Vive la République!" were soon raised; and thus ended the tragedy.

We cannot detail the horror felt throughout Europe at this most inhuman proceeding. This was the first day of a republic under which France was governed or misgoverned for many years. There were nearly one-half of the members of the convention who wished to save the life of the king, and who were less violent than the others; but from the moment that a majority of the members obtained the death of the king, the violent Jacobins gained an ascendency in the convention which gradually led to still more terrible scenes. The rabble of Paris, seeing how much influence they had acquired, resolved to push matters to a still greater extreme. They often broke into the Tuileries while the members were sitting, and made speeches, telling them what they ought to do in such and such cases, and throwing out threats as to what would follow if the demands of the people were unattended to. On the 27th of May, nearly two thousand women collected round the hall of the convention, and behaved like so many furies, but were compelled to disperse without doing mischief. The following day a scene occurred at the convention which may be cited as a not uncommon specimen of the then existing mode of debate: a member began to exclaim against the violent proceedings of the republicans, when a butcher, named Legendre, a man of ferocious character, struck him a violent blow on the chest which laid him prostrate. On one or two occasions, when the members were about to vote, the rabble broke into the hall, and gave their votes along with the members, thereby carrying every proposition. But it was on the 31st that the weakness of the more moderate party was fully shown. The tocsin beat to arms at five o'clock in the morning: the members hastened to the convention; and, shortly after, a rabble appeared, headed by a man who assumed the office of spokesman. He demanded the heads of a certain number of the more moderate members; and also proposed, that the working classes should be paid each forty sous per day while under arms. The latter proposition was immediately put from the chair, and, many of the rabble mixing their own votes with those of the members,-was carried. The absurdity of such legislation as this would provoke a smile, were it not connected with a train of events more calculated to excite a shudder.

But on the 2nd of June, matters assumed a still more serious aspect. The Tuileries was surrounded by more than forty thousand persons, armed with sticks, pikes, bayonets, and other weapons; and as the several members proceeded to their places, they were loaded with insults. When they had commenced their sittings, they found themselves prisoners, for the people would not let them leave the

hall. The twenty-five members whose heads had been demanded now vehemently exclaimed against the proceedings of the popular party, and denounced the more violent members as wishing to substitute confusion for regular government. On this, as well as a former occasion, Legendre signalized himself by answering arguments with blows. A deputation from the mob came into the hall, and reiterated their demand for the heads of the twenty-five obnoxious deputies; but the latter, in order to save their lives, consented to resign their seats, by which the convention became still more under the power of the people.

COMMENCEMENT OF THE REIGN OF TERROR.

Constitutional order was now destroyed: moderate mer were expelled from the convention; and from this day commenced a period which for horrors has rarely had a parallel in the history of civilized nations. From the 2nd June, 1793, till the 27th July, 1794, when Robespierre was executed, constituted the period known as the reign of terror. Without touching on the external politics of France, our subject requires that we should take a rapid view of the events of this dark period.

was

The ruling man in the convention was now Robespierre: the other members had little else to do than to register the decrees which he proposed. A revolutionary tribunal was established, for the summary trial of offences: a committee of public safety, and a committee of insurrection, were also established, -the latter for the purpose of planning and concocting insurrections, if necessary. Should the reader ask what was the state of religion at this terrible period, he will see from the following details. The taint of infidelity had extended so far, that, impelled by fear, the archbishop of Paris, together with a great number of other ecclesiastics, went to the convention in November, 1793, and formally renounced Christianity, and gave up their emoluments, amidst the acclamation of the members. It then decreed, that liberty, equality and reason, should be the only religion, and that all the churches should be closed. But, demoralized as the people had become, it was yet found necessary to rescind the last-mentioned decree. The former however remained in force, and it may be conceived that the abolition of all religious restraint led to the wildest excesses. Drunken men and abandoned women were to be seen everywhere trampling under their feet every relic that could be called devotional ;-churches were despoiled,-busts and images destroyed, and burlesque songs written and sung to dance-tunes, as parodies on hymns. A modern writer has said:-"The services of the Christian religion were universally abandoned, and the pulpits deserted, throughout the revolutionized districts; the church bells were everywhere silent; sabbath was entirely obliterated; baptisms ceased; the burial service was no longer heard; the sick received no consolation, the dying no communion; and the rites of heathenism, blended with the profanities of the most fanatical infidelity, desecrated the unhappy land. On every tenth day, atheism was publicly preached to the bewildered people by some revolutionary leader; and on all the public cemeteries was placed the inscription, 'Death is an eternal sleep.'

Robespierre and Marat were now the two idols of the people; and it is difficult to say which was the most unhallowed ruffian: the former was permitted to afflict his country for fourteen months: but the latter, after a few short weeks of triumph, was sent into the presence of that Creator whose existence he had so often denied. A young woman, named Charlotte Corday, living at Caen, in Normandy, having heard of the dreadful cruelties and enormities committed at Paris, chiefly under the direction of Marat, conceived the idea of putting an end to his existence as one who was bringing crime and suffering on her country. She therefore proceeded to Paris, and sent a note to Marat, professing to have some important state business to communicate to him. After some delay she was admitted to him, and in the course of conversation learned from him that he intended shortly to have a number of refugees in Normandy guillotined: at that instant she drew out a long knife from under her robe, and stabbed him to the heart. Marat died very shortly, and the woman permitted herself to be quietly taken into custody. On her examination she boldly owned that she had committed the deed,that she had taken his life, and was willing to sacrifice her own in order to save the lives of thousands of others. died heroically on the scaffold, in the Place Louis XV.

She

Soon after this event, the convention declared that France should remain a republic until peace was established with

the rest of Europe; and this decree was the forerunner of a series of butcheries, which lasted till Robespierre's death. EXECUTION OF THE QUEEN.

It will be remembered that the king was beheaded on the 21st of January; but no mention has since been made of the other branches of the royal family. They were confined in the temple until the month of October, when the unhappy queen, Marie Antoinette, was doomed to follow her husband to the scaffold. The queen and her family occupied apartments over those in which the king had been imprisoned; and on the morning of the king's execution the family had been anxiously awaiting one parting interview with him; but it was not till the firing of the guns announced that all was over that they knew that the king had left the prison. After this they were confined more rigorously than ever; and in a short time the queen suffered another pang in having her son taken from her by order of the convention. In the month of August she was removed to the prison of the Conciergerie, and there kept for two months, guarded by two soldiers so closely that never for an instant, day or night, was she left alone, and never had a female with her. At length, on the 14th of October, that death, to which she now looked forward as the only relief from suffering and insult, appeared approaching; but she was still doomed to the exposure of a public (mock) trial, where not only were all kinds of political crimes imputed to her, but others of a personal nature so diabolical, that, in the majesty of offended dignity, she turned to the females in the court, and asked if it were possible that she could be suspected of such crimes: this appeal met with the only show of sympathy that ever relieved the tedium of her sorrows. The trial lasted till four o'clock on the following morning, during which time she never left the hall for an instant, and an officer of gensdarmes was dismissed from his situation for listening to her urgent entreaties for a drop of water to drink.

At four in the morning of the 16th of October, she was condemned to death, and seven hours afterwards was conveyed to the scaffold. She was arrayed in white, her hands tied behind her, and was conveyed in a carriage accompanied by her executioner and a priest; and as she passed through the streets to the place of execution, the assembled multitude showered insults and indignities of every kind upon her head. After being paraded through the streets for an hour and a half, she was conducted to the scaffold, and her injuries and sufferings were soon terminated. It would seem difficult to account for the depth and intensity of the ferocity which could induce the populace not only to clamour for her death, but to heap degrading insults on her at the last moment. But there was an impression on the minds of the lower orders of Paris, that she had stood in the way of the concessions which they had two or three years before demanded from the king. It is evident, from many passages in the history of these distressing times, that she had more strength of mind than her husband; and the people had probably felt that this strength had more than once checked them in their course of violence.

The violent members of the convention then turned their attention to the moderate members who had been expelled, and also to others who belonged to the same party. These were called Girondists, while the violent faction was called the Mountain; and in the month of October no fewer than 133 deputies of the Girondist faction were condemned to death. About two-thirds of this number succeeded either in leaving France, or in concealing themselves until milder times arrived; while the other one-third were brought to the scaffold. Twenty-one of the most distinguished were guillotined on one day, the 1st of November: they were all men distinguished for their talents and eloquence, and it has been observed, that "Seldom, probably, has there fallen at one time beneath the axe of the executioner so great a number of eminent men as were this day sacrificed together in the Place Louis XV."

One week afterwards was executed the Duke of Orléans, a royal prince, who had brought upon himself the disgust of all parties, even the republicans, by voting for the death of his relative, the late king. The pretence set up against him was, that he had aspirations towards the throne; and it is not improbable that this was true; but the revolutionary tribunal did not care much for consistent evidence of the truth of a charge. He was condemned, and died with a firmness worthy of a juster cause.

This execution was soon followed by that of Madame Roland, the wife of the minister who was so popular in

an early part of the revolution. The charges against her were nothing but a mixture of frivolity and unmanly insult, and she was condemned without being allowed to say a word in her own defence. She, like the queen, left the hall with a lighter heart than she entered it, feeling that death was preferable to continued insult and injury. As she passed to the scaffold she saw a statue of Liberty near her, and exclaimed "Oh, liberty! what crimes are committed in thy name."

It is a curse which almost invariably attends the wicked, that they can seldom confide in one another: the republic had lost Marat, by the hand of Charlotte Corday, but there still remained bold and unprincipled spirits to rule or misrule the country. Among these were Robespierre, Danton, Hébert, Camille Desmoulins, Anarcharsis Clootz, and others; and these men soon began to look on each other as rivals. The party split into factions; and it was now that Robespierre showed that while he possessed as much cruelty as any of the others, he was less sincere in his republican principles than some, and more crafty than others. By degrees he contrived to bring all the most distinguished of his contemporaries to the scaffold; and he seems now to have been actuated by some such feeling of ambition as afterwards distinguished Buonaparte, but with more cruelty and less talent. Hébert, and others of his party, called Hébertists, had helped to bring the innocent king and queen to the scaffold: Danton assisted Robespierre to bring Hébert to the same end: and afterwards Robespierre got rid of Danton in a similar manner. On the 5th of April, 1794, Danton was executed, exclaiming, just before his last breath, "It is just a year since I caused the revolutionary tribunal to be instituted. I ask pardon of God and man for doing so; but I never imagined that it would become the scourge of humanity."

From the beginning of April to the end of July, 1794, blood flowed in the Place Louis XV., to an extent that had never yet been seen throughout the revolution. It was a dreadful period; for Robespierre had got rid of every one who seemed to have the slightest wish to check the progress of anarchy. As far as his motives can be discerned, it would seem that he wished to trample under foot every one who had a spark of love of justice and of country, and then to raise himself to despotic power. From the day of Danton's execution, there were generally about thirty persons, on an average, brought to the scaffold, in the Place Louis XV., every day; among whom were the Archbishop of Paris, General Dillon, Madame Desmoulins, Malesherbes, Chateaubriant, &c. Lavoisier, the great chemist, had rendered vast services to the country during the last year or two, but he too was, on some frivolous charge, brought to the scaffold; and when he asked for a day's respite, in order to finish some experiments, he was hurried off with the remark that the "republic had no need of chemists." On the 10th of May, the Princess Elizabeth, sister to the murdered king, was brought to the scaffold, after a wearisome imprisonment in the temple of twenty-one months' duration. She was conveyed to the scaffold with twentyfour other persons, some of them females, whom she endeavoured to console in the best way she was able.

By this time the inhabitants of the neighbourhood of the Place Louis XV. began to sicken of the scene of blood that every day presented itself to their eyes. Desodoardes says, "The ground could not imbibe all the blood that was shed; it flowed off slowly, to mix itself with the waters of the river. For many hours after the executions, the feet of those passing through the square left their impressions on the bloody pavement. The fashionable walks of the Champs Elysées and the Garden of the Tuileries, were almost entirely deserted. Even the inhabitants of the streets along which the victims were every day conducted to the scaffold began to complain, wearied by the heartrending sights which they were compelled to witness. I have seen many women who, not daring to put themselves to death by their own hands, had called out Vive le Roi, and by that stratagem thrown upon the revolutionary tribunal the task of terminating their days; some that they might not survive a husband, others that they might follow a husband or a brother."

But there are, in most courses of action, certain points beyond which extravagance cannot go; when the feelings, having been too strongly exercised in one direction, recoil, and undergo a reaction. Such was the case among the Parisian people: terror and disgust were awakened by these continued executions, and whispers began to spread abroad, as to the necessity of getting rid of the head and chief of these cruelties. But this was a task of imminent danger, for

Robespierre, who appears to have been a clever man as well as a cruel one, had so concentrated his power that any unsuccessful attempt to put him down would inevitably have brought those who made it to the scaffold. On the 8th of June, Robespierre got up what he impiously called a grand festival to the Supreme Being. Bands of music, men bearing branches of oak, and women with bouquets, paraded the streets, and then proceeded to the Tuileries garden, where a sort of amphitheatre was built. Robespierre made an address, professing to be a commendation of a sort of religion, but little removed from atheism, which he proposed to establish in France. There was then a symphony played by the band, and a sort of allegorical play acted, together with other ceremonies.

FALL OF ROBESPIERRE.

At the profane exhibition just alluded to, Robespierre appeared dressed in a violet-coloured robe, and a hat adorned with plumes. Now as there had been a great deal of profession about "liberty and equality," the spectators naturally thought this assumption of splendour very like an attempt to raise himself to a kingly or dictatorial height. Had they observed what has frequently occurred in the world, they would have seen that those who talk the loudest about liberty and equality, are often those who are most desirous of power over others,-whose actions seem to say, "equality among all others, and supremacy for me." The day after this festival, Robespierre and his myrmidons caused a law to be passed in the convention, to sweep away every form, delay, defence, or usage, when an accused was brought before the tribunal. The convention would have resisted this, as placing their own lives at the mercy of the tyrant; but Robespierre insisted, and they were forced to submit. After this the massacres became, for a few weeks, more numerous than ever: they amounted to an average of fifty per day in Paris, and to a proportionate number in the smaller towns of France.

But now the immediate associates of Robespierre began to split among themselves: he, St. Just, and Couthon, advocated one line of policy; Billaud de Varennes, Collot-d'Herbois, and others, advocated another, and the latter were too powerful for Robespierre to bring over to his side; he therefore planned their destruction,-his usual course in such cases. He caused 3000 persons to be ready to do his bidding, and went to the convention to ascertain the state of feeling among the members. Sufficient passed on that occasion to show him that the tide was beginning to turn against him. He left the hall, and proceeded to the jacobin club, which was composed almost entirely of his creatures. It was immediately resolved that nearly the whole of the members of the convention should be assassinated the next day. The convention knew the peril in which they were placed, and continued their sitting during the whole night, arranging and debating how they might best defeat the plans of Robespierre. It was a fearful time; for they felt that either they must get rid of him, or be murdered.

On the following day, July the 9th, all the members appeared at the convention; and St. Just one of the creatures of Robespierre, ascended the tribune and began to make a speech. He was interrupted by one of the opposite party, who ended by accusing Robespierre of bringing all sorts of misery on the country by his cruelties. The accusation was supported by others, and carried by a majority, in the midst of violent tumult. Robespierre and his chief associates were sent to prison, with the intention of being guillotined the next day; but the jacobin rabble rescued them, and thereby gave rise to a dreadful series of conflicts during the night: some of the soldiers aiding one party, and some the other; but happily the enemies of Robespierre prevailed; and on the 10th he was led to execution. His last moments were passed in an agony of body and mind which has perhaps been rarely exceeded; for, in addition to the rage and disappointment which almost gave to his features the appearance of a demon, his under jaw had been shattered by a pistol shot with which he had vainly endeavoured to put an end to his existence when he found that escape was impossible. As it was at first supposed he had killed himself, his body was thrown into a ditch, where it remained some hours; but when it was found that he still lived, he was carried to the hall of the convention, and his jaw bound up with a slight dressing. There he lay on one of the benches, and in his agony, clenched one of his thighs through his torn clothes with such force that his nails entered the flesh, and were stained with blood. He was then placed in a cart between Henriot and Couthon, and

conducted to the scaffold: the shops, windows, and housetops, were crowded with spectators; and as the cart proceeded, shouts of exultation were heard on every side. His head was wrapped in a bloody cloth which bound up his shattered jaw, so that his pale and livid countenance was but half seen. The mob stopped him before the house in which he had lived; and some mothers whose sons he had shortly before guillotined, poured down dreadful imprecations on his head. The executioner, when preparing for the performance, of his office, roughly tore off the bandage from the wound: Robespierre then uttered a dreadful cry, his under jaw fell from the upper, and the head, while he was yet living, exhibited as ghastly a spectacle as when a few minutes afterwards the executioner, holding it by the hair, exhibited it to the multitude. Thus perished this monster of iniquity; but it has been well observed, that "his fall was the triumph of fear rather than of justice; and the satisfaction with which it must be contemplated is incomplete, because a few monsters, even worse than himself, were among the foremost in sending him to the scaffold."

The violent party, though humbled by the death of Robespierre, was not subdued; and every attempt of the convention to introduce constitutional order met with violent opposition. A favourite law among the rabble was, that there should be a maximum price for everything; that is, that no dealer should be allowed to charge more than a certain price for an article, whether plentiful or scarce: nothing perhaps contributed more than this, to derange the financial affairs of France: the law was allowed to operate under Robespierre; and the removal of it afterwards was one of the causes of the hostility of the lower orders of people to the convention. On three different occasions, between the death of Robespierre, and the establishment of the new constitution, the populace besieged the conven-. tion in the Tuileries. On the first of these occasions, a ferocious body of persons, male and female, disarmed the guards of the convention, forced the doors, and entered the hall where the members were sitting. One or two moborators started up and addressed the assembly; and for four hours a scene of riot and confusion presented itself, during which the lives of the deputies were in imminent danger. At length the members contrived to give notice to the national guard of the state of durance in which they were placed; and this led to the clearance of the hall without any actual shedding of blood.

The commotion of the 20th of May was more serious. On this, as on the previous occasion, a body of infuriated women forced their way into the hall of the convention, and reviled and insulted the deputies. After a vain endeavour to pacify them, a small body of troops removed them from the galleries; but this was only an inducement to them to force their way into the hall, which they did with irrepressible violence, aided by a body of men armed with hatchets and hammers. The deputies were almost overthrown in the tumultuous rush, and were forced to the hindermost seats of the hall. Soon after this, a body of armed citizens entered by another door, commenced an attack of the rabble, and drove them out. But the ferocious multitude returned to the attack, armed with pikes, swords and guns, and commenced a dreadful assault on the deputies, one of whom was shot, dragged by the hair into a kennel, and then decapitated. For many hours a scene of tumult presented itself in the hall, the national guard not being sufficient in strength to drive out the insurgents; and it was not till nearly midnight that a strong body of armed citizens were enabled to restore peace. An incident occurred on this occasion, which showed how much the scenes of blood to which the Parisians had been exposed, had deadened the commonest feelings of humanity. After the head of the deputy had been cut off by the rabble, it was set on a pike, and paraded through the streets and afterwards, being deposited in the Place Louis XVth, it was kicked about as a football by children!

On the 5th of October, the revolutionary adherents resolved on a formidable attack on the Tuileries, where the convention held its sittings. At three o'clock in the morning drums were beat, summoning the people to the attack, and 30,000 men were speedily assembled. The convention had provided themselves with troops, of which Barras was the leader, and Buonaparte, then in the morning of his public career, second in command. The insurgents, too, were no longer a promiscuous rabble, but were ordered and commanded by general Dancian; so that it was evident something like a regular battle would ensue in the streets of Paris. In the afternoon the contest began in earnest: