cted them
from the fury of the mob.

The fall of the Bastille was celebrated by two processions that moved
through the streets; one blood-stained and horrible, carrying the heads
of the victims on pikes; the other triumphant and pathetic, bearing on
their shoulders the prisoners released from its cells. Of these, two had
been incarcerated so long that they were imbecile, and no one could
tell whence they came. On the pathway of this procession flowers and
ribbons were scattered. The spectators looked on with silent horror at
the other.

Meanwhile, the king was at Versailles, in ignorance of what was taking
place at Paris. The courts were full of soldiers, drinking and singing;
wine had been distributed among them; there were courtiers and court
intrigues still; the lowering cloud of ruin had yet scarcely cast a
shadow on the palace. Louis XVI. went to bed and to sleep, in blissful
ignorance of what had taken place. The Duke of Lioncourt entered and had
him awakened, and informed him of the momentous event.

"But that is a revolt!" exclaimed the king, with startled face, sitting
up on his couch.

"No, sire," replied the duke; "it is a revolution!"

That was the true word. It was a revolution. With the taking of the
Bastille the Revolution of France was fairly inaugurated. As for that
detested fortress, its demolition began on the next day, amid the
thunder of cannon and the singing of the _Te Deum_. It had dominated
Paris, and served as a state-prison for four hundred years. Its site was
henceforward to be kept as a monument to liberty.

_THE STORY OF THE SAINTE AMPOULE._

Sad years were they for kings and potentates in France--now a century
ago--when the cup of civilization was turned upside-down and the dregs
rose to the top. For once in the history of mankind the anarchist was
lord--and a frightful use he made of his privileges. Not only living
kings were at a discount, but the very bones of kings were scattered to
the winds, and the sacred oil, the "Sainte Ampoule," which for many
centuries had been used at the coronation of the kings of France, became
an object of detestation, and was treated with the same lack of ceremony
and consideration as the royal family itself.

Thereby hangs a tale. But before telling what desecration came to the
Sainte Ampoule through the impious hands of the new lords of France, it
may be well to trace briefly the earlier history of this precious oil.
Christianity came to