fering her assistance to every insurrectionary people, she
ostentatiously proclaimed her plan of revolutionizing the world--who can
doubt that national safety consisted in resisting the doctrines, in
repelling the arms, and in crushing the conspiracies which would have
made England a field of civil slaughter, and left of her glory and her
power nothing but a name?

It is, however, a curious instance of personal zeal, to find the
biographer applauding as the sentiments of his hero, the opinions which
he deprecates as the policy of England; and admitting that the war was
wise, righteous, and inevitable; that it raised the name of England to
the highest rank: and that it preserved us from "the pest of a godless,
levelling democracy."

It has been the habit of writers like the present, to conceive that the
French Revolution was hailed with general joy by England. Even before
the death of the king, the contrary is the fact: the rabble, the
factions, and the more bustling and bitter portion of the sectaries,
unquestionably exulted in the popular insurrection, and the general
weakening of the monarchy. But all the genuinely religious portion of
the people, all the honest and high-minded, all the travelled and
well-informed, adopted a just conception of the whole event from the
beginning. The religious pronounced it atheistic, the honest illegal,
and the travelled as the mere furious outburst of a populace mad for
plunder and incapable of freedom. But the death of the king excited a
unanimous burst of horror; and there never was a public act received
with more universal approbation than the dismissal of the French
ambassador, M. Chauvelin, by a royal order to quit the country within
eight days. The note was officially sent by Lord Grenville, but was
stamped with the energy of Pitt. It was as follows:--

"I am charged to notify to you, sir, that the character with which
you have been vested at this court, and the functions of which have
been so long suspended, being now utterly terminated by the fatal
death of his most Christian Majesty, you have no more any public
character here, the King can no longer, after such an event, permit
your residence here; his Majesty has thought fit to order that you
should retire from this kingdom within the term of eight days. And
I herewith transmit to you a copy of the order, which his Majesty,
in his Privy Council, has given to this effect. I send