to him the head of his parent, yet streaming with blood. He averted his eyes, and as they continued to press it towards his face, bowed to the ghastly remains. The efforts of Bailly and La Fayette were again unsuccessful, he was seized by the mob, and dragged towards the lamp post, but, at the sight of the cord, which they prepared to put about his neck, he was seized with a transport of indignation, and, wresting a musket from one of the national guard, rushed into the troop of his assassins, and fell, pierced with innumerable wounds. One of the cannibals fell upon the body, and tore out his heart, which he bore about in triumph, almost before it had ceased to beat. The heads of Berthier and Foulon were put on the end of pikes, and paraded, in the midst of an immense crowd, through the streets of

Paris."

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Everywhere the peasants rose in arms, attacked and burnt the chateaux of the landlords, and massacred or expelled the possessors. The horrors of the insurrection of the Jacquerie, in the time of Edward the Third, were revived on a greater scale, and with deeper circumstances of atrocity. In their blind fury, they did not even spare those seigneurs who were known to be inclined to the

popular side, or had done the most to mitigate their sufferings or support their rights. The most cruel tortures were inflicted on the victims who fell into their hands; many had the soles of their feet roasted over a slow fire, before being put to death; others had their hair and eyebrows burnt off, while they destroyed their dwellings, after which they were drowned in the nearest fish pond. The Marquess of Barras was cut into little bits before his wife, far advanced in her pregnancy, who shortly after died of horror; the roads were covered with young women of rank and beauty, flying from death, and leading their aged parents by the hand. It was amidst the cries of agony, and by the light of conflagration that liberty arose in France."

The National Assembly sought to disclaim all participation in these acts of inhuman violence, by several energetic proclamations, which had not, however, the slightest effect in repressing them. Indeed they were too directly subservient to the views of those who were now the leaders of that

rival each other in a tumultuary eagerness to remove and abolish every ancient privilege by which they were distinguished from the great body of the people.

It has been truly said that the night of the 4th of August 1789, changed the whole condition of France. Had these changes been introduced gradually they might have been beneficial; but, coming, as they did, suddenly and unexpectedly, when the people were, in no respect, prepared to profit by them, their only effect was to heighten the popular intoxication, and give a shock to the whole fabric of society, which must sooner or later, bring it to the ground.

Nothing," says Mr. Alison, "can more distinctly mark the different characters of the French and English Revolutions, than the conduct of the two nations in their first measures of legislative improvement after the royal power had fallen. The English were solicitous to justify their resistance by the precedent of antiquity; they maintained that they had inherited this freedom; and sought only to re-establish those ancient landmarks, which had disappeared during the indolence or the usurpation of recent times. The French commenced the work of reformation by destroying every thing which had gone before them, and sought to establish the freedom of future ages by rooting out every thing which had been done by the past. On the ancient stock of Saxon independence the English engrafted the shoots of modern liberty; in its stead the French planted the unknown tree of equality. In the

Three days after this extraordinary proceeding, in which concession would seem to have attained its utmost limit, the popular leaders affected to maintain that it was not the redemption, but, the abolition of tithe that had been voted. On this occasion the clergy found in the Abbe Sieyes an able and unexpected advocate. If it is yet possible," said he, "to awaken in your minds a love of justice; I would ask, not if it is ex pedient, but if it is just, to despoil the church? The tithe, whatever it may be in future, does not at present belong to you. If it is suppressed in the hand of the creditor, does it follow that it is extinguished also in the trust of the debtor, and become your property? You yourselves have declared the tithe redeemable; by so doing you have recognized its legal existence; and cannot now suppress it. The tithe does not belong to the owner of the soil. He has neither purchased nor acquired it by inheritance. If you extinguish the tithes, you confer a gratuitous and uncalled-for present upon the landed proprietor, who does nothing, while you ruin the true proprietor, who instructs the people in return for that share of their fruits. You would be free, but you know not how to be just.”

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But he alike reasoned and expostulated in vain. He had pulled up the floodgates, and the torrent would not go back at his bidding. My dear Abbe," says Mirabeau, "you have unloosed the bull; do you expect he is not to make use of his horns?"

Then followed the celebrated declaration of the Rights of Man, a production inwardly execrated by those who were its authors, which gives all the viciousness of falsehood to self-evident truth, and all the plausibility of truth to self-evident falsehood. Its principal composer admits, that it was like placing a powder magazine under an edifice, which the first spark would blow into the air.*

This declaration was the basis of

the new constitution, which annihilated the hereditary legislators, and converted the sovereignty into a pageant. Mirabeau strongly remonstrated against depriving the monarch of an absolute veto in the enactment of laws; but he was as little attended to now, as the Abbe Sieyes when he attempted to protect the rights of the clergy. Having gone with the democrats one mile, they were constrained, by any thing but a Christian spirit, to go with them twain.

But the finances now began to fail, and famine to threaten the inhabitants of Paris. While men's minds were thus agitated by private distress and public distraction, an incident occurred which served to arouse the suspicions and inflame the indignation of the people. The regiment of Flanders, and some troops of horse had been brought to Versailles for the protection of the royal family. A public dinner, according to ancient custom, was given, upon their arrival, in the saloon of the opera, the boxes of which were filled with all the rank and fashion which still continued to grace the court. The health of the King was drank with enthusiasm; and when the musicians struck up the well known and pathetic air, "Oh, Richard! oh my King! the world abandons you!" the officers drew their swords, and scaled the boxes, "where they were received with enthusiasm by the ladies of the court, and decorated with white cockades, by fair hands trembling with agitation."

The democrats immediately caught the alarm. It was represented that a deliberate conspiracy was entered into by the court and the military to extinguish the liberties of the people. The execrable Egalitè and his satellites, omitted not so favourable an opportunity of forwarding his views upon the sovereign authority; and after Paris had been for some days exposed to the violence of an infuriate populace, they directed their course to Versailles, with a view, as is generally supposed, to intimidate the King into an abandonment of his station, that the Duke of Orleans might be proclaimed in his stead. The King's firmness defeated the object of the secret instiga

tors of this ferocious banditti; and a mere accident prevented the Queen being murdered. She received notice of their approach just time enough to enable her to escape from her bed chamber. She had scarcely quitted the room, when her bed was perforated by their bayonets.

The individual who could alone afford protection to the royal family at this trying emergency was La Fayette; and he did, undoubtedly, exert himself for their preservation; but he was the author, at the same time, of a counsel which precipitated their ruin. They were persuaded by him to accompany the mob to Paris, and take up their residence at the Tuilleries. When this resolution was known, the assembly resolved to accompany the sovereign; and, thenceforth, the mob of the capital exercised a paramount domination not only over the unhappy Louis, whose authority had already passed away, but even over that body of senators who had usurped even more than regal functions.

This may be called the first cataract of the revolution; the first great bound which the raging current of innovation made down the precipice of anarchy. And here we will pause for the present, to revert for a moment to the causes which plunged a great nation into horrors of which every one felt the misery, and no one could see the end.

There can be no doubt that the government of France required reform, and as little that the worst features of the revolution were caused by its having been so long delayed. The almost absolute prerogative of the crown, the insulting superiority claimed by the upper classes, and the heavy and unequal taxation borne by the lower, could not much longer have been endured, amongst a people progressing in knowledge and in wealth, and where the middle orders were becoming tinctured with the republican spirit of classical antiquity, while the nobles exhibited a degeneracy which characterized the declension of the greatness of the Roman empire under some of the worst of the Cæsars. Louis's declaration on the 23d of June, removed all the real evils of France, and had it been more timely, would have been effectual in appeasing the murmurs of the people. But it was delayed until

these murmurs increased and deepened into deafening thunder, amidst which the voice of reason could not be heard; and passions were inflamed, and desires excited, which wisdom could not satisfy, and with which prudence should not have complied.

The first great error of the government was in doubling the number of the Tiers Etat. By so doing, the political charioteer may be said to have abandoned the reins, after he had yoked the vehicle of state to wild horses. Even before that, all circumstances considered, the democracy was too strong; it thenceforth became irresistible. Neckar had been brought into power by the popular voice; and imagined, no doubt, that by augmenting the popular influence he was only perpetuating his own administration. But he was soon apprised of the difference between exciting and controuling the passions of the people; and the very dæmons of popular vengeance, whom he convoked, speedily made the arch-magician himself to tremble.

The second error was, in uniting the three orders of the state in one assembly. The very principle of the concession involved the annihilation of an aristocratical class, and its immediate effect was to destroy their influence. They were no longer of any importance in an assembly where they might be outvoted by a majority of two to one.

The clergy had joined with the Tiers Etat in compelling the union of the Chambers; and they were the first to feel the effect of it in the sweeping measure of confiscation, which destroyed the property of the Church. They were first the instruments of popular ambition, and afterwards the victims of popular vengeance.

The revolt of the French guards drew after it the defection of the whole army. And the position of the National Assembly and of the residence of the monarch completely destroyed freedom of deliberation. The members of the National Assembly were, no doubt, free to act with the multitude; but they soon felt themselves controuled by a power which they could not withstand if they attempted to act against them. From the moment the Assembly began to hold their sittings in Paris, they could be considered in no

CENTLIVRE.

The difficulties which De Lacy had to encounter, were such as, under any other circumstances, would have justified Sir Everard Ashley's determination to have no hand in the undertaking. The distance from Oxford to Basing was forty miles; on his right hand were the strong holds of the enemy at Abingdon and Reading, whose active patrols were incessantly scouring the country, and on his left at Newberry, lay a large body of the Parliament's horse, not less diligent. Thus, should they, at the best prove successful in their main object, their safe return to Oxford was extremely doubtful. With a mind fully capable of appreciating these dangers, and a spirit fitted to meet and to subdue them, De Lacy during the short march, turned his attention to Winchester, as a point on which he might not only fall back, in case his return to Oxford should be intercepted, but from whence, even at the present late period, he might receive reinforcement and co-operation. With Sir William Ogle, the governor, he was personally acquainted, and he resolved on sending a despatch thither, which was to rejoin him at Basing. On reaching the wood, the men had been made to unarm, the horse were picquetted, and every precaution taken to refresh both, it being De Lacy's intention to lie by during the day, to avoid the heat, as well as the danger of interception, and prosecute his march in the cool of the evening, by which method he had calculated on reaching Basing about one or two o'clock on Wednesday morning. In one of several leafy bowers, hastily constructed with branches of trees for accommodation of the officers, our hero held conference with his friends Webb, Bunckley, the three Oxonians, and the hum

ble and faithful partizan Smallcraft; of this conference Father Denis was a silent but attentive auditor. "I have sent for you, Smallcraft," said De Lacy, "to be present at this discussion, not only because I have a high opinion of your fidelity and intelligence, but also that Colonel Bunckley informs me that you have been heretofore acquainted with much of this country." "With thanks for your good opinion, brave Sir, I know some parts of it indifferently well," replied Smallcraft, “tho' it is a long time since my old master was a vast intimate of the late Squire Forrester of Aldermaston, and I often followed the hounds with him in that part of the country"-" No readier way of acquiring a knowledge of it," observed De Lacy. It was eventually settled, that Smallcraft, Lester, and Trevanion, who professed a knowledge of the country, should proceed with the despatch to Winchester. said De Lacy, "will add one more to your party, whom, should you unfortunately have occasion for his services, you will find useful." Then turning to a soldier who was at hand, he desired him to send Jan Schontz to them. "In the way," continued De Lacy, "the country between us and Winchester is occupied, it would be impossible for you in your present garbs to reach it undiscovered, though it was not with a view to this particular purpose, I provided those which may give you safe conduct." Jan Schontz now made his appearance; he was somewhat in the capacity of Sergeant of the Queen's Dutchmen-a man not more than of middle size, but no one scarcely could pass him unheeding, his bone and muscular power were so much out of the common. "Where is the bag I charged you with?"-Jan disappeared without