I knew well, that the war, enkindled during my husband's life, had since his death extended its rava

ges far and wide. The existence of the coalition acquired strength from its successes; the republic had been defeated in several actions, and some fortified places were in the hands of the enemy. All those circumstances nourished my hope; I was far from wishing the subjugation of the nation, over which Louis XVI. had reigned, which I thought my son born to command, but I earnestly wished for the humiliation, even for the chastisement of this proud gov ernment, as mean as cruel, which had instituted crimes to remedy abuses, and consolidated its authority by murders.

By a contradiction, which the nature of anarchy explains sufficiently, being in the practice of conciliating. opposite principles, while opinions were tried before a tribunal, and people killed for thinking, the liberty of the press, carried to licentiousness, gave itself full latitude; not only the private life and morality of the governors, but the public reverses were amply discuss.

ed. I learned them daily by the voice of a public crier of newspapers sent by Michonis. This man, placed near the ramparts of the tower, repeated three times distinctly the news of the day, and his Stentorian voice emphasised strongly those, which might interest

me.

One night, after hearing the account of the conspiracy, which was projected to deliver to prince de Condé all the northern frontier, I was combining the results of such an event, when I was interrupted in my flattering conjectures by a loud noise at my door. It opened immediately, and my room was filled with armed men and lighted torches ; among them I distinguished three commissioners invested with scarfs. I sprang and inquired what was the matter. It is, answered a municipal officer, a decree of the committee of public safety, which we come to communicate, and we hope, Madame, that you will submit with resignation. Another magistrate handed me a decree; it ordered that my son should be separated from me to be put under the guardianship of a shoemaker called Simon, whom the communes had appointed as his

governor. Think of the grief, the agony, and the delirium of a mother bereaved of her only consolation, in the depth of her misfortunes! Without reflecting on my disordered condition, I rushed into my son's cabinet; he slept sweetly. One of the commissioners followed me, and endeavoured to persuade me. I had lost all my pride; I was a mother; I implored the pity of my keepers; I owe them this testimony, they appeared moved, so much have the voice of nature and the accents of despair the empire over the human heart, even the most ferocious. But beingthe agents of tyranny, they would have become its victims, if they had refused their services. However, my son awoke; the sight of torches and of arms, far from intimidating him, seemed to give him a fiercer air. He at first mistook the visit, which I received, and advancing towards the officers, he asked them firmly of what his mother had been guilty; then looking me in the face, and observing me in tears, he could no longer restrain his own, and casting himself in my arms, he sobbed bitterly. I pressed him on my bosom, unable to express my feelings, but by my sighs

and agony. But, when I had recovered strength enough to manifest by other signs the distress of my soul; barbarians, exclaimed I, will you be cruel enough to rob me of the only treasure, which renders my life supportable? Was it not enough to massacre my husband? Do you wish to murder my child, my son, whose tender years, whose moving graces, whose beauty, and above all, whose innocence would melt the most obdurate hearts! The savages respect the love of a mother for her offspring; ferocious animals feel its force, the tyger is softened at the sight of his young sucking his dam; will you be more cruel than tygers, more insensible than the Caribbees? Are all the sentiments of nature extinguished in your souls? Is there not among you a man who is a father? Are ye not all so? What would you do, what would you say, if you were robbed of your children? Ah! how frightful, how abominable is that patriotism, which fills your mind, if it shuts your heart against pity! Love and serve your coun try, but despise not, outrage not nature. They were silent, and dared not lift up their eyes; I even thought some of them melted into tears. They revived my

hopes and humbled my pride. Oh! maternal love ! melting sentiment, which renders us capable of every sacrifice! Yes, the queen of France, the daughter of Maria Theresa, fell down before vile satellites, her persecutors! My son followed my example; his tears mingled with those of his mother, bathed the hands stained with the blood of his father, and of my husband! You weep, said I to them in that accent, which the mother alone, speaking in favour of a beloved child, could give; you weep; Oh! suppress not those honourable tears; blush not to be men; yield, yield to the voice of humanity. The son of a king, a queen is at your feet; they do not blush, though they suffer; judge of the torment, which you prepare, by the humiliation to which I submit! They were inexorable. The chief of the escort ordered, that to stop this trying scene my son should be removed; I uttered a piercing shriek; the child affrighted flew to my arms; I seized him with the convulsions of rage and despair; but nature yielded to such repeated efforts, and I fainted. When I recovered my senses, I found myself on my bed, surrounded by my sister and my