re
is anything in belonging to the old royal family of France which stands
between its princes and wisdom and knowledge. If so, one is less sorry
that he died so early as he did.

Barnave's last words impressed the feelings of the queen, but had no
other effect. He begged to see her once more before he left Paris; and
then withdrew from public affairs. He said, "Your misfortunes, madam,
and those of the country, had determined me to devote myself to your
service. I see that my advice does not accord with your majesty's
views. I augur little success from the plan which you have been induced
to follow. You are too far from the help you rely on, and you will be
lost before it can reach you. I earnestly hope that I may be mistaken
in this prophecy. At all events, I am sure of losing my head for the
interest I have felt in your affairs, and the services I have
endeavoured to render you. I only ask as a recompense the honour of
kissing your hand."

The queen shed tears as she extended her hand to him, and often
afterwards spoke of Barnave with regard. It does not appear, however,
that either she or the king called in question their own conduct with
regard to these men. They induced them to devote themselves to a most
hazardous service--summoned them to secret interviews in the palace, in
the night, in dark corridors, or on back staircases, where some spy or
another was sure to see them, and report of them to the jealous people;
and, after all this, they were dismissed, and left unprotected by the
exact contrary of their advice being pursued. Barnave's dismal
predictions were all fulfilled. The royal family did sink down into
destruction; and he himself perished, as he had foretold. He now left
Paris, and married at Grenoble. The next August, less than three months
after his last interview with the queen, his correspondence with her and
the king was found in a chest in the palace; and orders were sent to
arrest him, and imprison him at Grenoble. He lay in prison fifteen
months, and was then brought to Paris, and tried for his life. He made
a noble defence; but it was of no avail. He was beheaded on the 29th of
October, 1793. When on the scaffold, he seemed suddenly struck with the
infamy of the treatment he had met with on every side. He stamped with
his foot, and exclaimed, "This, then, is the reward of all that I have
done for liberty!" He was only thirty-two years of age. His unwise and
miserable sov