e the reign of that Prince for a model. In the
following year the party that raised a commotion among the people on
account of the dearness of corn removed the tablet inscribed Resurrexit
from the statue of Henri IV., and placed it under that of Louis XV., whose
memory was then detested, as he was believed to have traded on the
scarcity of food. Louis XVI., who was informed of it, withdrew into his
private apartments, where he was found in a fever shedding tears; and
during the whole of that day he could not be prevailed upon either to
dine, walk out, or sup. From this circumstance we may judge what he
endured at the commencement of the Revolution, when he was accused of not
loving the French people."--NOTE BY THE EDITOR.]

His return to Versailles filled his family with inexpressible joy; in the
arms of the Queen, his sister, and his children, he congratulated himself
that no accident had happened; and he repeated several times, "Happily no
blood has been shed, and I swear that never shall a drop of French blood
be shed by my order,"--a determination full of humanity, but too openly
avowed in such factious times!

The King's last measure raised a hope in many that general tranquillity
would soon enable the Assembly to resume its, labours, and promptly bring
its session to a close. The Queen never flattered herself so far; M.
Bailly's speech to the King had equally wounded her pride and hurt her
feelings. "Henri IV. conquered his people, and here are the people
conquering their King." The word "conquest" offended her; she never
forgave M. Bailly for this fine academical phrase.

Five days after the King's visit to Paris, the departure of the troops,
and the removal of the Princes and some of the nobility whose influence
seemed to alarm the people, a horrible deed committed by hired assassins
proved that the King had descended the steps of his throne without having
effected a reconciliation with his people.

M. Foulon, adjoint to the administration while M. de Broglie was
commanding the army assembled at Versailles, had concealed himself at
Viry. He was there recognised, and the peasants seized him, and dragged
him to the Hotel de Ville. The cry for death was heard; the electors, the
members of committee, and M. de La Fayette, at that time the idol of
Paris, in vain endeavoured to save the unfortunate man. After tormenting
him in a manner which makes humanity shudder, his body was dragged about
the streets, a