rincesse Elizabeth, the
Duchesse d'Orleans, and all the friends of the Princesse de Lamballe,
once more united in anxious wishes for her to quit France. Even the Pope
himself endeavoured to prevail upon Her Highness to join the royal aunts
at Rome. To all these applications she replied, "I have nothing to
reproach myself with. If my inviolable duty and unalterable attachment
to my Sovereigns, who are my relations and my friends; if love for my
dear father and for my adopted country are crimes, in the face of God and
the world I confess my guilt, and shall die happy if in such a cause!"

The Duc de Penthievre, who loved her as well as his own child, the
Duchesse d'Orleans, was too good a man, and too conscientious a Prince,
not to applaud the disinterested firmness of his beloved daughter-in-law;
yet, foreseeing and dreading the fatal consequence which must result from
so much virtue at a time when vice alone predominated, unknown to the
Princesse de Lamballe, he interested the Court of France to write to the
Court of Sardinia to entreat that the King, as head of her family, would
use his good offices in persuading the Princess to leave the scenes of
commotion, in which she was so much exposed, and return to her native
country. The King of Sardinia, her family, and her particular friend,
the Princess of Piedmont, supplicated ineffectually. The answer of Her
Highness to the King, at Turin, was as follows:

"SIRE, AND MOST AUGUST COUSIN,--

"I do not recollect that any of our illustrious ancestors of the house of
Savoy, before or since the great hero Charles Emmanuel, of immortal
memory, ever dishonoured or tarnished their illustrious names with
cowardice. In leaving the Court of France at this awful crisis, I should
be the first. Can Your Majesty pardon my presumption in differing from
your royal counsel? The King, Queen, and every member of the Royal
Family of France, both from the ties of blood and policy of States,
demand our united efforts in their defence. I cannot swerve from my
determination of never quitting them, especially at a moment when they
are abandoned by every one of their former attendants, except myself. In
happier days Your Majesty may command my obedience; but, in the present
instance, and given up as is the Court of France to their most atrocious
persecutors, I must humbly insist on being guided by my own decision.
During the most brilliant period of the reign of Marie Antoinette, I was
d