t the Assembly, in
two ranks afoot; at their head the Marquis de La Fayette, as
Commander-in-chief, on horseback, and Bourgeois guards before and
behind. About sixty thousand citizens, of all forms and conditions,
armed with the conquests of the Bastile and Invalids, as far as they
would go, the rest with pistols, swords, pikes, pruning-hooks,
scythes, etc., lined all the streets through which the procession
passed, and with the crowds of people in the streets, doors, and
windows, saluted them everywhere with the cries of "vive la nation,"
but not a single "vive le roi" was heard. The King stopt at the Hotel
de Ville. There M. Bailly presented, and put into his hat the popular
cockade, and addrest him. The King being unprepared, and unable to
answer, Bailly went to him, gathered from him some scraps of
sentences, and made out an answer, which he delivered to the audience
as from the King. On their return, the popular cries were "vive le Roi
et la nation." He was conducted by a Garde Bourgeoise to his palace at
Versailles, and thus concluded an "amende honorable," as no sovereign
ever made, and no people ever received.

And here, again, was lost another precious occasion of sparing to
France the crimes and cruelties through which she has since passed,
and to Europe, and finally America, the evils which flowed on them
also from this mortal source. The King was now become a passive
machine in the hands of the National Assembly, and had he been left to
himself, he would have willingly acquiesced in whatever they should
devise as best for the nation. A wise constitution would have been
formed, hereditary in his line, himself placed at its head, with
powers so large as to enable him to do all the good of his station,
and so limited as to restrain him from its abuse. This he would have
faithfully administered, and more than this I do not believe he ever
wished. But he had a Queen of absolute sway over his weak mind and
timid virtue, and of a character the reverse of his in all points.
This angel, as gaudily painted in the rhapsodies of Burke,[33] with
some smartness of fancy, but no sound sense, was proud, disdainful of
restraint, indignant at all obstacles to her will, eager in the
pursuit of pleasure, and firm enough to hold to her desires, or perish
in their wreck. Her inordinate gambling and dissipations, with those
of the Count d'Artois, and others of her _clique_, had been a sensible
item in the exhaustion of the treasu