rench Papist, then under examination for high treason.
The assassin redoubles his blow, to make sure work; and concluding the
chancellor was dispatched, goes on with the same rage to murder a
principal secretary of state: and that whole noble assembly are forced to
rise, and draw their swords in their own defence, as if a wild beast had
been let loose among them.

This fact hath some circumstances of aggravation not to be paralleled by
any of the like kind we meet with in history. Caesar's murder being
performed in the Senate, comes nearest to the case; but that was an
affair concerted by great numbers of the chief senators, who were
likewise the actors in it, and not the work of a vile, single ruffian.
Harry the Third of France was stabbed by an enthusiastic friar,[5] whom
he suffered to approach his person, while those who attended him stood at
some distance. His successor met the same fate in a coach, where neither
he nor his nobles, in such a confinement, were able to defend themselves.
In our own country we have, I think, but one instance of this sort, which
has made any noise, I mean that of Felton, about fourscore years ago: but
he took the opportunity to stab the Duke of Buckingham in passing through
a dark lobby, from one room to another:[6] The blow was neither seen nor
heard, and the murderer might have escaped, if his own concern and
horror, as it is usual in such cases, had not betrayed him. Besides, that
act of Felton will admit of some extenuation, from the motives he is said
to have had: but this attempt of Guiscard seems to have outdone them all
in every heightening circumstance, except the difference of persons
between a king and a great minister: for I give no allowance at all to
the difference of success (which however is yet uncertain and depending)
nor think it the least alleviation to the crime, whatever it may be to
the punishment.

I am sensible, it is ill arguing from particulars to generals, and that
we ought not to charge upon a nation the crimes of a few desperate
villains it is so unfortunate to produce: Yet at the same time it must be
avowed, that the French have for these last centuries, been somewhat too
liberal of their daggers, upon the persons of their greatest men; such
as the Admiral de Coligny,[7] the Dukes of Guise,[8] father and son, and
the two kings I last mentioned. I have sometimes wondered how a people,
whose genius seems wholly turned to singing and dancing, and prating, to