character extended to his
manners. From being merely awkward, he at last became uncouth; but from
the natural goodness of his heart, the nearest to him soon lost sight of
his ungentleness from the rectitude of his intentions, and, to parody the
poet, saw his deportment in his feelings.

Previous to the Revolution, Louis XVI. was generally considered gentle
and affable, though never polished. But the numberless outrages suffered
by his Queen, his family, his friends, and himself, especially towards
the close of his career, soured him to an air of rudeness, utterly
foreign to his nature and to his intention.

It must not be forgotten that he lived in a time of unprecedented
difficulty. He was a lamb governing tigers. So far as his own personal
bearing is concerned, who is there among his predecessors, that, replaced
upon the throne, would have resisted the vicissitudes brought about by
internal discord, rebellion, and riot, like himself? What said he when
one of the heterogeneous, plebeian, revolutionary assemblies not only
insulted him, but added to the insult a laugh? "If you think you can
govern better, I am ready to resign," was the mild but firm reply of
Louis.

How glorious would have been the triumph for the most civilized nation in
the centre of Europe had the insulter taken him at his word. When the
experimentalists did attempt to govern, we all know, and have too
severely felt, the consequences. Yet this unfortunate monarch has been
represented to the world as imbecile, and taxed with wanting character,
firmness, and fortitude, because he has been vanquished! The
despot-conqueror has been vanquished since!

His acquirements were considerable. His memory was remarkably retentive
and well-stored,--a quality, I should infer from all I have observed,
common to most Sovereigns. By the multiplicity of persons they are in
the habit of seeing, and the vast variety of objects continually passing
through their minds, this faculty is kept in perpetual exercise.

But the circumstance which probably injured Louis XVI. more than any
other was his familiarity with the locksmith, Gamin. Innocent as was the
motive whence it arose, this low connection lessened him more with the
whole nation than if he had been the most vicious of Princes. How
careful Sovereigns ought to be, with respect to the attention they bestow
on men in humble life; especially those whose principles may have been
demoralized by the meanness