ities. It is here, in this room, that the king dethroned by thy perfidy spent long days of grief, and still sweeter for him than those spent among his courtiers, since thou wast among them. Dost thou see this table? It was almost wholly under my direction, that he began this immortal will, which secures his glory, and fixes opprobrium on his persecutors. He forgave thee, cruel man, thou hast murdered him !..... Thou shudderest, tremble more, wretch, in beholding this funeral urn, a sad monument of the grief of his widow, of the tenderness of his sister, of the piety of his children! Knowest thou that this urn contains the precious remains of his mortal spoils ? Behold the last writing of his hand, his last farewell. Behold his

hair cut by the executioner, and preserved by a faithful hand. Behold his portrait, Philip, look at it, if thou darest. These are the features beaming with goodness, this mouth, which rendered so many humane decrees, and hardly knew the word severity. But it is now armed against thee, usurpator, it says, I have forgiven thee my death, but never

the robbery, which thou didst commit on my son. My son is king by the grace of God, the will of the pecple; descend from the throne, give way to thy master, and fall prostrate!

The duke affrighted wished to answer; he muttered some unintelligible words. Let us go, said he, to his guide, darting on my son and on me a frightful look. Being left alone, Toulan did not conceal from us, that we had provoked a new tempest on our devoted heads, but as danger approached, our courage increased with it; the prelate did not leave us without pouring on us with the blessing from Heaven, the hope, which consoles, and the strength which sup ports.

On the next day, some moments after the rising of the king, the commissioner on guard gave me a letter written in the following terms.

LETTER OF THE DUKE OF ORLEANS TO THE QUEEN.

(VOUCHER, No. 20.)

"MADAME,

แ Anger only serves to blind those, who yield to it, and sometimes provokes the vengeance of those, against whom it is manifested. That, which agitated your majesty yesterday, rendered it impossible for me to communicate the object of my visit. That kind of enchantment, which possessed you in consequence of a ceremony, certainly delusive, and yet dangerous, did not permit you to hear me. I excuse the transports of your majesty; you cannot forget that you were a queen, and believe yourself the mother of a king. Your majesty knows the heart of men too well, the passions which agitate them, and the train of things, not to know, that the true king is he, who commands, and that the son of Louis XVI. in prison is but an illustrious slave. You are a slave yourself, Madame ; I am sorry to remind you of it. But I only do it to give you an opportunity to forget, that: you ever were so. Be the umpire of your own des

tinies. I say more, pronounce that of your family and of your house. Let us bind by the ties of an hymen, on which public happiness depends, those of the blood already relaxed between you and me. I shall not mention my love, time may have extinguished it; your rigors have repulsed me, and your situation does not allow me to make new professions. But, if decency does not permit the language of tenderness, it is proper to watch over your safety. I must not conceal, that serious measures, in contemplation, will affect it, they may even involve your family. To obey a highmindedness in some respects estimable, but very illtimed, will you sacrifice what you hold dearest in life? Life, liberty, opulence, and greatness have wherewith to tempt. I cannot perceive, that humiliation, misery, slavery, and perhaps something worse, can be preferable to them. I desire earnestly that your majesty may be of the same opinion, and I entreat you to return the original of this letter, with an answer. I have the honour to be, Madame, &c.

"L. PH. EGALITE.”

I copied this insolent epistle, and answered the

wretch, who dared to write it, in these words.

ANSWER TO THE PRECEDING LETTER.

(VOUCHER, No. 21.)

"There can be no common interest between the widow of the sovereign, and his rebellious subject. Let him threaten; let him strike; she knows no how to yield, and knows how to die."

Some days elapsed before any material change took place in my situation, except that Toulan and Michonis did not return to the Temple, and were succeeded by some municipal officers unknown to me. The appearance and watchfulness of my new guardians would have augmented my troubles, had I not had, to soften my captivity, the presence and the caresses of my children, the cares and friendship of my sister. My hopes, besides, were awakened by the ceremony, of which Charles had been the object, and the delusion, which charmed my ears, embellished my dreams also. This deceiving calm foreboded a tempest; I slept. in security to awake in the horrors of the storm.