by all the rights of nature, restore her to her afflicted family." Robespierre looked obliquely at him, and with his accustomed sharpness, interrupted him from proceeding further, by exclaiming, "What right, miscreant, have you to appear before us? you are an agent of Pilt and Cobourg," (the then common phrase of reproach), "you shall be sent to the guillotineWhy are you not at the frontiers?" Monsieur Gunappalled, replied, "Give me my mother, and I will be there to-morrow, I am ready instantly to spill my blood; if it must be the price of her discharge." Robespierre, whose savage soul was occasionally moved by sight of heroic virtue, seemed impressed by this brave and unusual address. He paused, and after whispering a few words to his associates, wrote the discharge, and handing it over to a soldier, for the successful petitioner, he fiercely told him to retire.

Mr. G- instantly set out for Rouen, where, after a long and severe journey, he arrived, exhausted with fatigue and agitation of mind: without refreshment, this excellent man flew to the gates of the prison which contained his mother, and presented the discharge to the gaoler, who drily, with a brutal grin, informed him, that a revolutionary joke had been played off upon him, that he had just received a counter order, which he held in his hand, and refused to release her!!!

It turned out, that immediately after Mr. G had left the committee room, the relenting disposition, which he had momentarily awakened in the barbarous breast of Robespierre, had subsided.

The generous sentiment was of a short and sickly growth, and withered under the gloomy fatal shade of his sanguinary nature. A chasseur had been dispatched with the counter order, who passed the exulting, but deluded Mr. G― on the road.

A short time after this, and a few days before Madame G and her unhappy companions were to have perished on the scaffold, the gates of their

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prison flew open, the world was released from a monster-Robespierre was no more!

This interesting recital I received from one of the amiable sufferers, in our way to St. Catherine's Mount. The story afforded melancholy contrast to the rich and cheerful scenes about us.

From the attic story of a lofty house, built under this celebrated cliff, we ascended that part of it, which, upon the road to Paris, is only accessible in this manner. When we reached the top, the prospect was indeed superb: on one side we traced for miles the romantic meanders of the Seine, every where forming little islands of poplars; before us, melting away in the horizon, were the blue mountains of Lower Normandy; at their feet, a variegated display of meadows, forests, corn-fields, and vineyards; immediately below us, the city of Rouen, and its beautiful suburbs. This delicious, and expanded prospect, we enjoyed upon a seat erected near a little oratory, which is built upon the top of the mountain, resting, at one end, upon the pedestal of a cross, which, in the time of the Revolution, had been shattered and overturned.

In the course of our walks, and conversations with the workmen whom we met, we found that most of the masons and gardeners of Rouen had fought in the memorable, bloody, and decisive battle of Marengo, at which it appears that a great part of the military of France were present. The change they presented was worthy of observation; we saw men sunbrowned in campaigns, and inured to all the ferocity of war, at the sound of peace assuming all the tranquil habits of ingenious industry, or rustic simplicity. Some of them were occupied in forming the shapeless stone into graceful embellishments for elegant houses, and others in disposing, with botanic taste, the fragrant parterre. After spending four very delightful days in this agreeable city, I bade adieu to my companion, whose intention was to spend some time

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here, and those friends from whom I had received great attention and hospitalities, and wishing the amiable Madame P many happy years, and receiving from her the same assurances of civility, about seven o'clock in the evening I seated myself in the diligence for Paris, and in a comfortable corner of it, after we had passed the pavé, resigned myself to sleep.

About eight o'clock in the morning, we arrived at Mante, a picturesque town, built upon a fertile mountain, at the base of which the Seine flowed along, rippling against its many islands of beautiful poplars. At this hour, upon our alighting at the inn, we found a regular dinner ready, consisting of soups, meats, fowls, and confectionary. To the no small surpoise of the host, I expressed a wish to have some breakfast, and at length, after much difficulty, procured some coffee and rolls.

The rest of the party, with great composure, tucked their napkins in the button-holes of their waistcoats, and applied themselves to the good things 'before them with very active address What a happy race of people! ready for every thing, and at all times; they scarcely know the meaning of inconvenience.

After paying thirty sols for my repast, a charge which announced our approach to the capital, I walked on, and made my way to the bridge over another winding of the Seine, at the bottom of the town, which is a light and elegant structure. The houses along the sides of the river are handsome, and delightfully situated. The principal church is a fine gothic building, but is rapidly hastening to decay; some of its pinnacles are destroyed, and all its windows broken in.

A small chapel, in the street opposite, which had an appearanc of considerable elegance, was converted into a slaughter-house. Embosomed in woods on the other side of the bridge, is a fine chateau, formerly

belonging to the count d'Adhemar; here, while enjoying the enchanting prospect about me, I heard the jingling approach of our heavy diligence, in which, having re-seated myself, we proceeded upon a fine high road, through thick rows of walnut, cherry, mulberry, and apple trees, for several miles, on each side of which were vineyards, upon whose promising vintage the frost had committed sad devastation.

A few miles from Mante, on the borders of the Seine, we passed one of the venerable chateaux of the celebrated duc de Sully, the faithful, able, and upright minister of Henry IV. of France, one of those great geniuses, who, only at distant æras of time, are permitted to shine out amongst the race of men. Historians unite in observing that the duke performed all the duties of an active and upright minister, under a master who exercised all the offices of a great and good king; after whose unhappy fate this excellent man retired from the busy scenes of the world, and, covered with time and honours, expired in the eighty-second year of his age, in the year 1641, at his castle of Villebon. The house is plain and large. The grounds are disposed after the fashion of ancient times.

As we approached the capital, the country looked very rich and luxuriant. We passed through the forest of St. Germains, where there is a noble palace, built upon a lofty mountain. The forest abounds with game, and formerly afforded the delights of the chase to the royal Nimrods of France. Its numerous green alleys are between two and three miles long, and in the form of radii unite in a centre. forest and park extend to the barrier, through which we immediately entered the town of St. Germains, distant from Paris about twelve miles, which is a large and populous place, and in former periods, during the royal residence, was rich and flourishing, but having participated in the blessings of the Revolution,

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presents an appearance of considerable poverty, and squalid decay. Here we changed horses for the last post, and run down a fine broad paved royal road through rows of stately elms, upon an inclined plane, until the distant and wide, but clear display of majestic domes, dark towers, and lofty spires, informed us that we approached the capital. Our carriage stopt at the Norman barrier, the grand entrance to Paris, which here presents a magnificent prospect to the eye. The barrier is formed of two very large and noble military stone lodges, having porticoes on all sides, supported by massy doric pillars. These buildings were given to the nation by the national assembly, in the year 1792, and are separated from each other by a range of iron gates, adorned with republican emblems. Upon a gentle declivity, through quadruple rows of elms, at the distauce of a mile and a half, the gigantic statues of la Place de la Concorde (ci-devant de la Revolution), appear; beyond which the gardens and the palace of the Thuilleries, upon the centre tower of which the tri-coloured flag was waving, form the back scene of this splendid spectacle. Before we entered la Place de la Concorde we passed, on each side of us, the beautiful favourite walks of the Parisians, called les Champs Elysées, and afterwards, on our left, the elegant palace of the Garde-meuble; where we entered the streets of Paris, and soon afterwards alighted at the bureau des diligences; from which place I took a fiacre, (a hackney coach), and about six o'clock in the evening presented myself to the mistress of the hôtel de Rouen, for the women of France generally transact all the masculine duties of the house. To this hotel I was recommended by Messrs. G, upon mentioning whose name, I was very politely shewn up to a suite of pleasant apartments, consisting of an anti-room, bedroom, and dressing-room; the two latter were charmingly situated, the windows of which looked out upon an agreeable garden belonging to the palace