was beginning to pall upon the popular appe- considerable time before it; and now I found tite, or that these wholesale massacres interest-myself beside the massive wooden railing placed ed less than the sight of individual suffering, to keep off the crowd from the space around the I know not; but certainly there was less of guillotine. exultation, less of triumphant scorn in the tone of the speakers. They talked of the coming event, as of a common occurrence, which, from mere repetition, was gradually losing interest.

"I thought we had done with these Chouans," said a man in a blouse, with a paper cap on his head. "Pardie! they must have been more numerous than we ever suspected."

"That they were, citoyen," said a haggardlooking fellow, whose features showed the signs of recent strife; "they were the millions who gorged and fed upon us for centuries-who sipped the red grape of Bourdeaux, while you and I drank the water of the Seine."

It was the first time I had ever stood so close to the fatal spot, and my eyes devoured every detail with the most searching intensity. The colossal guillotine itself, painted red, and with its massive ax suspended aloft-the terrible basket, half filled with sawdust, beneath-the coarse table, on which a rude jar and a cup were placed-and, more disgusting than all, the lounging group, who, with their newspapers in hand, seemed from time to time to watch if the procession were approaching. They sat beneath a misshapen statue of wood, painted red like the guillotine. This was the goddess of Liberty. I climbed one of the pillars of the paling, and could now see the great cart, which, like a boat

"Well, their time is come now," cried a third. "And when will ours come?" asked a fresh-upon wheels, came slowly along, dragged by looking, dark-eyed girl, whose dress bespoke her trade of bouquetiere-" Do you call this our time, my masters, when Paris has no more pleasant sight than blood, nor any music save the 'ça ira' that drowns the cries at the guillotine? Is this our time, when we have lost those who gave us bread, and got in their place only those who would feed us with carnage ?" "Down with her! down with the Chouane! à bas la Royaliste!" cried the pale-faced fellow; and he struck the girl with his fist upon the face, and left it covered with blood.

six horses. It was crowded with people, so closely packed that they could not move their bodies, and only waved their hands, which they did incessantly. They seemed, too, as if they were singing; but the deep growl of the bassoons, and the fierce howlings of the mob, drowned all other sounds. As the cart came nearer, I could distinguish the faces, amid which were those of age and youth-men and women-bold-visaged boys and fair girls— some, whose air bespoke the very highest station, and beside them, the hardy peasant, ap!"parently more amazed than terrified at all he saw around him. On they came, the great cart surging heavily, like a bark in a stormy sea; and now it cleft the dense ocean that filled the Place, and I could descry the lineaments wherein the stiffened lines of death were already marked. Had any touch of pity still lingered in that dense crowd, there might well have been some show of compassion for the sad convoy, whose faces grew ghastly with terror as they drew near the horrible engine.

"To the lantern with her!-to the Seine shouted several voices; and now, rudely seizing her by the shoulders, the mob seemed bent upon sudden vengeance; while the poor girl, letting fall her basket, begged, with clasped hands, for mercy.

"See here, see here, comrades," cried a fellow, stooping down among the flowers, "she is a Royalist: here are lilies hid beneath the rest." What sad consequences this discovery might have led to, there is no knowing; when, suddenly, a violent rush of the crowd turned every thought into a different direction. It was caused by a movement of the Gendarmerie à cheval, who were clearing the way for the approaching procession. I had just time to place the poor girl's basket in her hands, as the onward impulse of the dense mob carried me forward. I saw her no more. A flower-I know not how it came there was in my bosom, and seeing that it was a lily, I placed it in my cap for concealment.

Down the furrowed cheek of age the heavy tears coursed freely, and sobs and broken prayers burst forth from hearts that until now had beat high and proudly.

"There is the Duc d'Angeaç," cried a fellow, pointing to a venerable old man, who was seated at the corner of the cart, with an air of calm dignity; “I know him well, for I was his perruquier."

"His hair must be content with sawdust this morning, instead of powder," said another; and a rude laugh followed the ruffian jest.

"See! mark that woman with the long dark hair-that is La Bretonville, the actress of the St. Martin."

"I have often seen her represent terror far more naturally," cried a fashionably-dressed man, as he stared at the victim through his opera-glass.

The hoarse clangor of the bassoons-the only instruments which played during the marchnow told that the procession was approaching; and then I could see, above the heads of the multitude, the leopard-skin helmets of the dragoons, who led the way. Save this I could see nothing, as I was borne along in the vast torrent toward the place of execution. Slowly as we moved, our progress was far more rapid "Bah!" replied his friend, "she despises than that of the procession, which was often her audience, voila tout. Look, Henri, if that obliged to halt from the density of the mob in little girl beside her be not Lucille of the front. We arrived, therefore, at the Place a Pantheon."

"Parbleu! so it is. Why, they'll not leave pirouette in the Grand Opera. Pauvre petite, what had you to do with politics?"

"Her little feet ought to have saved her head any day."

See how grim that old lady beside her looks: I'd swear she is more shocked at the company she's thrown into, than the fate that awaits her. I never saw a glance of prouder disdain than she has just bestowed on poor Lucille."

from gray hairs and tender womanhood, that would have shamed the proudest deeds of their new-born chivalry!

"Charles Gregoire Courcelles !" shouted out a deep voice from the scaffold.

"That is my name," said a venerable-looking old gentleman, as he arose from his seat, adding, with a placid smile, "but, for half a century my friends have called me the Duc d'e Riancourt."

"We have no dukes nor marquises; we know of no titles in France," replied the functionary. "All men are equal before the law." "If it were so, my friend, you and I might change places; for you were my steward, and

"That's the old Marquise d'Estelles, the very essence of our old nobility. They used to talk of their mesalliance with the Bourbons is the first misfortune of their house." "Pardie! they have lived to learn deeper plundered my chateau." sorrows."

I had by this time discovered her they were speaking of, whom I recognized at once as the old marquise of the chapel of St. Blois. My hands nearly gave up their grasp as I gazed on those features, which so often I had seen fixed in prayer, and which now-a thought paler, perhaps wore the self-same calm expression. With what intense agony I peered into the mass, to see if the little girl, her grand-daughter, were with her; and, oh! the deep relief I felt as I saw nothing but strange faces on every side. It was terrible to feel, as my eyes ranged over that vast mass, where grief and despair, and heart-sinking terror were depicted, that I should experience a spirit of joy and thankfulness; and yet I did so, and with my lips I uttered my gratitude that she was spared! But I had not time for many reflections like this; already the terrible business of the day had begun, and the prisoners were now descending from the cart, ranging themselves, as their names were called, in a line below the scaffold. With a few exception, they took their places in all the calm of seeming indifference. Death had long familiarized itself to their minds in a thousand shapes. Day by day they had seen the vacant places left by those led out to die, and if their sorrows had not rendered them careless of life, the world itself had grown distasteful to them. In some cases a spirit of proud scorn was manifested to the very last; and, strange inconsistency of human nature! the very men whose licentiousness and frivolity first evoked the terrible storm of popular fury, were the first to display the most chivalrous courage in the terrible face of the guillotine. Beautiful women, too, in all the pride of their loveliness, met the inhuman stare of that mob undismayed. Nor were these traits without their fruits. This noble spirit-this triumphant victory of the well-born and the great -was a continual insult to the populace, who saw themselves defrauded of half their promised vengeance, and they learned that they might kill, but they could never humiliate them. In vain they dipped their hands in the red lifeblood, and, holding up their dripping fingers, asked, "How did it differ from that of the canaille ?" Their hearts gave the lie to the taunt for they witnessed instances of heroism

"Down with the royalist-away with the aristocrat!" shouted a number of voices from the crowd.

Be a little patient, good people," said the old man, as he ascended the steps with some difficulty; "I was wounded in Canada, and have never yet recovered. I shall probably be better a few minutes hence."

There was something of half simplicity in the careless way the words were uttered that hushed the multitude, and already some expressions of sympathy were heard; but as quickly the ribald insults of the hired ruffians of the Convention drowned these sounds, and "Down with the royalist" resounded on every side, while two officials assisted him to remove his stock and bare his throat. The commissary, advancing to the edge of the platform, and, as it were. addressing the people, read in a hurried, slurring kind of voice, something that purported to be the ground of the condemnation. But of this not a word could be heard. None cared to hear the ten-thousand-time told tale of suspected royalism, nor would listen to the high-sounding declamation that proclaimed the virtuous zeal of the government—their untiring energy—their glorious persistence in the cause of the people The last words were, as usual, responded to with an echoing shout, and the cry of "Vive la Republique rose from the great multitude.

"Vive le Roi !" cried the old man, with a voice heard high above the clamor; but the words were scarce out when the ups that muttered them were closed in death; so sudden was the act, that a cry burst forth from the mob, but whether in reprobation or in ecstasy I knew not.

I will not follow the sad catalogue, wherein nobles and peasants, priests, soldiers, actors, men of obscure fortune, and women of lofty station succeeded each other, occupying for a brief minute every eye, and passing away for ever. Many ascended the platform without a word; some waved a farewell toward a distant quarter, where they suspected a friend to be others spent their last moments in prayer, and died in the very act of supplication. All bore themselves with a noble and proud courage; and now some five or six alone remained, of whose fate none seemed to guess the issue,

since they had been taken from the Temple by tempt to restore order peaceably, and either not some mistake, and were not included in the list possessing a sufficient force, or distrusting the of the commissary. There they sat, at the foot temper of the soldiers, descended from the scafof the scaffold, speechless and stupefied—they | fold, and gave the order to march. This act of looked as though it were matter of indifference submission was hailed by the mob with the most to which side their steps should turn to the jail furious yell of triumph. Up to that very moor the guillotine. Among these was the mar- ment, they had never credited the bare possi quise, who alone preserved her proud self-pos- bility of a victory; and now they saw them session, and sat in all her accustomed dignity; selves suddenly masters of the field—the troops, while close beside her an angry controversy in all the array of horse and foot, retiring in was maintained as to their future destiny-the discomfiture. Their exultation knew no bounds; commissary firmly refusing to receive them for execution, and the delegate of the Temple, as he was styled, as flatly asserting that he would not re-conduct them to prison. The populace soon grew interested in the dispute, and the most violent altercations arose among the partisans of each side of the question.

Meanwhile, the commissary and his assistants prepared to depart. Already the massive drapery of red cloth was drawn over the guillotine, and every preparation made for withdrawing, when the mob, doubtless dissatisfied that they should be defrauded of any portion of the entertainment, began to climb over the wooden barricades, and, with furious cries and shouts, threatened vengeance upon any who would screen the enemies of the people.

The troops resisted the movement, but rather with the air of men entreating calmness, than with the spirit of soldiery. It was plain to see on which side the true force lay.

and, doubtless, had there been among them those with skill and daring to profit by the enthusiasm, the torrent had rushed a longer and more terrific course than through the bloodsteeped clay of the Place de la Grève.

"Here is the man we want," shouted a deep voice. "St. Just told us, t'other day, that the occasion never failed to produce one; and see, here is 'Jean Gougon;' and though he's but two feet high, his fingers can reach the pin of the guillotine."

And he held aloft on his shoulders a misshapen dwarf, who was well known on the Pont Neuf, where he gained his living by singing infamous songs, and performing mockeries of the service of the mass. A cheer of welcome acknowledged this speech, to which the dwarf responded by a mock benediction, which he bestowed with all the ceremonious observance of an archbishop. Shouts of the wildest laughter followed this ribaldry, and in a kind of triumph they carried him up the steps, and deposited him on the scaffold.

Ascending one of the chairs, the little wretch proceeded to address the mob, which he did with all the ease and composure of a practiced public speaker. Not a murmur was heard in that tumultuous assemblage, as he, with a most admirable imitation of Hebert, then the popular idol, assured them that France was, at that instant, the envy of surrounding nations; and

"But I dare not-I can not-without my that, bating certain little weaknesses on the orders."

score of humanity-certain traits of softness and over-mercy-her citizens realized all that ever had been said of angels. From thence he

"Are not the people sovereign ?-whose will have we sworn to obey, but theirs?" "My own head would be the penalty if I passed on to a mimicry of Marat, of Danton, yielded."

It will be, if you resist-even now it is too late."

And as he spoke he sprang from the scaffold, and disappeared in the dense crowd that already thronged the space within the rails.

By this time, the populace were not only masters of the area around, but had also gained the scaffold itself, from which many of them seemed endeavoring to harangue the mob; others contenting themselves with imitating the gestures of the commissary and his functionaries. It was a scene of the wildest uproar and confusion-frantic cries and screams, ribald songs and fiendish yellings on every side. The guillotine was again uncovered, and the great crimson drapery, torn into fragments, was waved about like flags, or twisted into uncouth headdresses. The commissary, failing in every at

and of Robespierre-tearing off his cravat, bar ing his breast, and performing all the oft-exhib. ited antics of the latter, as he vociferated, in a wild scream, the well-known peroration of a speech he had lately made-"If we look fo a glorious morrow of freedom, the sun of our slavery must set in blood!"

However amused by the dwarf's exhibition, a feeling of impatience began to manifest itself among the mob, who felt that, by any longer delay, it was possible time would be given for fresh troops to arrive, and the glorious opportunity of popular sovereignty be lost in the very hour of victory.

I have much to learn, ere I can acquit myself worthily to the republic."

"We have no leisure for preparatory studies, Gougon," cried a fellow below the scaffold. "Let me, then, just begin with monsieur," said the dwarf, pointing to the last speaker; and a shout of laughter closed the sentence.

A brief and angry dispute now arose as to what was to be done, and it is more than doubtfal how the debate might have ended, when Gougon, with a readiness all his own, concluded the discussion by saying,

"Yes, yes, I do," cried I, my zeal overcoming all sense of the mockery in which the words were spoken; "I know them all by heart, and can repeat them from 'lux beatissima' down to 'hora mortis;'" and as if to gain credence for my self-laudation, I began at once to recite in the sing-song tone of the seminary,

"Salve, mater salvatoris,

Fons salutis, vas honoris
Scala coeli porta et via
Salve semper, O, Maria !"

It is possible I should have gone on to the very end, if the uproarious laughter which rung around had not stopped me.

"I have it, messieurs, I have it. There is a lady here, who, however respectable her family and connections, will leave few to mourn her "There's a brave youth!" cried Gougon, loss. She is, in a manner, public property, and pointing toward me, with mock admiration. if not born on the soil, at least a naturalized" If it ever come to pass-as what may not in French woman. We have done a great deal these strange times ?-that we turn to priestfor her, and in her name, for some time back, craft again, thou shalt be the first archbishop and I am not aware of any singular benefit she of Paris. Who taught thee that famous cantihas rendered us. With your permission, then, cle ?" I'll begin with her."

"The Père Michel," replied I, in no way

"Name, name-name her," was cried by conscious of the ridicule bestowed upon me; thousands. "the Père Michel of St. Blois."

"La voila," said he, archly, as he pointed with his thumb to the wooden effigy of Liberty above his head.

The absurdity of the suggestion was more than enough for its success. A dozen hands were speedily at work, and down came the Goddess of Liberty! The other details of an execution were hurried over with all the speed of practiced address, and the figure was placed beneath the drop. Down fell the ax, and Gougon, lifting up the wooden head, paraded it about the scaffold, crying,

The old lady lifted up her head at these words, and her dark eyes rested steadily upon me; and then, with a sign of her hand, she motioned to me to come over to her.

"Yes; let him come," said Gougon, as if answering the half-reluctant glances of the crowd. And now I was assisted to descend, and passed along over the heads of the people, till I was placed upon the scaffold. Never can I forget the terror of that moment, as I stood within a few feet of the terrible guillotine, and saw beside me the horrid basket, splashed with

"Behold! an enemy of France. Long live recent blood. the republic, one and 'indivisible.'"'

Loud and wild were the shouts of laughter from this brutal mockery; and for a time it almost seemed as if the ribaldry had turned the mob from the sterner passions of their vengeance. This hope, if one there ever cherished it, was short-lived; and again the cry arose. for blood. It was too plain, that no momentary diversion, no passing distraction, could withdraw them from that lust for cruelty, that had now grown into a passion.

And now a bustle and movement of those around the stairs showed that something was in preparation; and in the next moment the old marquise was led forward between two men.

"Where is the order for this woman's execution?" asked the dwarf, mimicking the style and air of the commissary.

“We give it: it is from us," shouted the mob, with one savage roar.

Look not at these things, child," said the old lady, as she took my hand and drew me toward her, "but listen to me, and mark my words well."

"I will, I will," cried I, as the hot tears rolled down my cheeks.

"Tell the Père--you will see him to-nighttell him that I have changed my mind, and resolved upon another course, and that he is not to leave Paris. Let them remain The torrent runs too rapidly to last. This can not endure much longer. We shall be among the last victims! You hear me, child ?"

"I do, I do," cried I, sobbing. 'Why is 's not the Père Michel with you now?"

"Because he is suing for my pardon; asking for mercy, where its very name is a derision Kneel down beside me, and repeat the 'an gelus.'”

I took off my cap, and knelt down at her feet, Gougon removed his cap, and bowed a token reciting, in a voice broken by emotion, the words of obedience.

"Shrive her yourself, Gougon; few know the mummeries better!" cried a voice.

of the prayer.

She repeated each syllable

"Let us proceed in order, messieurs," said after me, in a tone full and unshaken, and then he, gravely; "I see no priest here." stooping, she took up the lily which lay in my cap. She pressed it passionately to her lips; two or three times passionately. "Give it to her; tell her I kissed it at my last moment Tell her-"

"Is there not one here can remember a prayer, or even a verse of the offices," said Gougon, with a well-affected horror in his voice.

"This 'shrift' is beyond endurance. Away,