have utterly
misrepresented the scene.

Secondly, it is asserted that the Revolution was a tornado of murder;
cruelty was let loose, and the Atheists waded in blood. Never was
greater nonsense paraded with a serious face. During the Terror itself
the total number of victims, as proved by the official records, was
less than three thousand; not a tenth part of the number who fell in the
single massacre of St. Bartholomew!

But who caused the Terror? The Christian monarchies that declared war
on Freethinkers and regicides. Theirs was the guilt, and they are
responsible for the bloodshed. France trembled for a moment. She aimed
at the traitors within her borders, and struck down many a gallant
friend in error. But she recovered from the panic. Then her sons,
half-starved, ragged, shoeless, ill-armed, marched to the frontier,
hurled back her enemies, and swept the trained armies of Europe into
flight. They _would_ be free, and who should say them nay? They were not
to be terrified or deluded by "the blood on the hands of the king or the
lie at the lips of the priest." And if the struggle developed until the
French armies, exchanging defence for conquest, thundered over Europe,
from the Baltic to the Mediterranean, from the orange-groves of Spain
to the frozen snows of Russia--the whole blame rests with the pious
scoundrels who would not let France establish a Republic in peace.

PIGOTTISM. *

* March, 1889.

"_Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is
new? it hath been already of old times, which was before
us._"--Ecclesiastes i. 10.

Everybody is talking about the flight of Pigott. The flight into
Egypt never caused half such a sensation. Pigott has gone off into the
infinite. He was shadowed, but he has performed the feat of running away
from his own shadow. Where he will turn up next, or if he will turn
up anywhere, God only knows. But wherever he re-appears--in the South
Pacific as a missionary, in America as a revivalist, or in India as an
avatar--it will be the same old Pigott, lying, shuffling, forging and
blackmailing, with an air of virtue and benevolence.

The edifice of calumny on Mr. Parnell and his closest colleagues rested
on the foundation of Pigott, and Pigott is exploded. He has entirely
vanished. Not a hair of him is visible. He is gone like last winter's
snow or last summer's roses. He is in the big list of things Wanted. But
advertisements will not bring hi