emperor, was
condemned to death, dragged in an open tumbril to the place of
execution, and beheaded on the 16th October, 1793. She suffered death in
her 39th year.

The princess Elizabeth, sister of Louis, of whom it might he said, in
the words of lord Clarendon, that she resembled a chapel in a king's
palace, into which nothing but piety and morality enter, while all
around is filled with sin, idleness, and folly, did not, by the most
harmless demeanour and inoffensive character, escape the miserable fate
in which the Jacobins had determined to involve the whole family of
Louis XVI. Part of the accusation redounded to the honour of her
character. She was accused of having admitted to the apartments of the
Tuilleries some of the national guards, of the section of Filles de
Saint Thomas, and causing the wounds to be looked to which they had
received in a skirmish with the Marsellois, immediately before the 10th
of August. The princess admitted her having done so, and it was exactly
in consistence with her whole conduct. Another charge stated the
ridiculous accusation, that she had distributed bullets chewed by
herself and her attendants, to render then more fatal, to the defenders
of the castle of the Tuilleries; a ridiculous fable, of which there was
no proof whatever. She was beheaded in May, 1794, and met her death as
became the manner in which her life had been spent.

We are weary of recounting these atrocities, as others must be of
reading them. Yet it is not useless that men should see how far human
nature can be carried, in contradiction to every feeling the most
sacred, to every pleading, whether of justice or of humanity. The
Dauphin we have already described as a promising child of seven years
old, an age at which no offence could have been given, and from which no
danger could have been apprehended. Nevertheless, it was resolved to
destroy the innocent child, and by means to which ordinary murders seem
deeds of mercy.

The unhappy boy was put in charge of the most hard-hearted villain whom the
community of Paris, well acquainted where such agents were to be found, were
able to select from their band of Jacobins. This wretch, a shoemaker called
Simon, asked his employers, "what was to be done with the young wolf-whelp;
Was he to be slain?"--"No?"--"Poisoned?"--"No."--"Starved to death?"--"No."
"What then?"--"He was to be got rid of." Accordingly, by a continuance of
the most severe treatment--by beating, c