charms, great as they were, her pre-eminent goodness surpassed, whom MARIA-ANTOINETTA ranked among her principal friends, and with whom premature death lost all its terrors in the consolation of once again beholding the Queen, although that once was the last moment of her mortal existence; who, I say, shall presume to suppose, that had she lived to the period of the Revolution, she would not have preserved, with equal fortitude and ardour, the faithful sentiments of her soul towards her illustrious friend, thus deeply plunged in wretchedness? No-I proclaim it as the suggestion of my duty, I declare it as the conviction of my heart, and as the delight of my recollection, that of all those who were about the Queen's person, whether belonging to the circle of her friends, or to the most favoured part of her household; whether of what was called the Palace, or the Royal Chamber, MARIA-ANTOINETTA, to the last moment, found the heart of every one, I will not say faithful, that were too poor a term, but devoted to her service; at all times regardless of individual safety, whenever called upon, to preserve her from any threatening peril, to execute her commands, or to fulfil her wishes.

Be it also here remarked, that before the Revolution no one was ever permitted, in the presence of Louis XVI. to assume any familiarity of manner, that might in the least trespass upon that profound respect always due to the regal character. He would not himself have brooked it, and every one who has once approached him, knows how strongly the consciousness of personal dignity was impressed upon his mind. And as to the Queen, whoever would have pourtrayed majesty in all its splendour, or sovereign goodness in all its charms; whoever would have formed a perfect idea, in order to give a perfect description of the true assemblage of grandeur of soul, and personal grace, the pleasing yet awe-striking union of those two prevailing influences, splendid rank, and transcendant beauty, I would ask such an one, whether aught more was required to form a faithful portraiture of the whole, than to contemplate the figure of MARIA-ANTOINETTA, either in full court, or when crossing the gallery with all her train of attendants, to go to chapel, or even when alone with her children, where all her dignified excellence shone forth in its native lustre. At this moment, while about to depict her as the victim of a system, whose constituent principles were injustice, calumny, outrage, and tor

mind's eye dwells upon

ture, my the form she presented to my view, and my memory recals the agitation of my breast, when I first beheld her at Versailles, in the high character of Queen, receiving the universal homage of France. In vain should I attempt to give an adequate description of the conflicting emotions that shake my soul, while it traces the broad contrast; I am, therefore, induced to transcribe a passage, from a writer, whose mind the same comparison had inspired twelve years ago; a man, whose genius seemed to have framed for his expression a language peculiar to himself, but whose bosom felt not that within it which possesses mine:

"It is now," said the immortal Burke, in 1790, "sixteen or eighteen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the Dauphiness, at "Versailles; and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a

6.

more delightful vision-I saw her just above "the horizon, decorating and cheering the ele"vated sphere she just began to move in-glit

tering like the morning star, full of life, and splendour, and joy. Oh! what a revolution! "And what an heart must I have, to contemplate "without emotion that elevation and fall!"Little did I dream, that when she added titles

"of veneration to those of enthusiastic, distant,

respectful love, she should ever be obliged "to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace "concealed in that bosom; little did I dream "that I should have lived to see such disasters "fallen upon her in a nation of gallant men, in 66 a nation of men of honour, and of cavaliers. "I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards, to avenge even a "look that threatened her with insult. But the

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age of chivalry is gone-that of sophisters, "œconomists, and calculators has succeeded; "and the glory of Europe is extinguished for "ever. Never, never more, shall we behold "that generous loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission, that dignified obedience, "that subordination of the heart, which kept

alive, even in servitude itself, the spirit of an "exalted freedom. The unbought grace of

life, the cheap defence of nations, the nurse "of manly sentiment, and heroic enterprize, is "gone! It is gone, that sensibility of princi"ple, that chastity of honour, which felt a stain "like a wound, which inspired courage whilst "it mitigated ferocity, which ennobled what"C ever it touched, and under which vice itself "lost half its evil, by losing all its grossness."

CHAPTER II,

Immediate Causes, and remote Sources, of the French Revolution Louis XIV.-The Regency-Louis XV.-Louis XVI.-Convocation of the States General in 1789.

THE French Revolution has been of such prodigious extent, and protracted so long, so com plicated also in its events and characters; so many passions, at once dangerous aud generous, base and terrible, have displayed their enthusiasm or frenzy, sometimes counteracting and sometimes promoting each other's effect, that thirty writers might, from speculative or metaphysical notions, ascribe each a different cause for the shock which the world has received, and every one support his argument with plausibility.

The truth is, there are so many causes to be alledged, that it may be easily observed, "with