In relation to the above extraordinary prediction, a certain M.... has inserted the following article in the public journals of Paris: "That he well knew this M. Cazotte, and has often heard from him the announcement of the great oppression which was to come over France, and this at a time when not the least of it was suspected. The attachment to the monarchy was the reason why, on the second of September, 1792, he was brought to the abbey, and was saved from the hands of the bloodthirsty rabble only through the heroic courage of his daughter, who mitigated the raging populace. This same rabble which wanted to destroy him, led him to his house in triumph. All his friends came to congratulate him, that he had escaped death. A certain M. D... who visited him after the terrible days, said to him: "Now, you are saved!"—"I believe it not," answered Cazotte; "in three days I shall be guillotined!"—"How can this be?" replied M. D... Cazotte continued: "Yes, my friend, in three days I will die on the scaffold!" As he said this he was very much affected, and added: "Shortly before your arrival, I saw a gend'armes enter, who fetched me by order of Petion; I was under the necessity of following him: I appeared before the mayor of Paris, who ordered me to the Conciergerie, and thence I came before the revolutionary tribunal. You see, therefore (by this vision, namely, which Cazotte had seen), my friend, that my hour has arrived; and I am so much convinced of this, that I am arranging my papers. Here are papers for which I care very much, which you will deliver to my wife; I entreat you to give them to her, and to comfort her.""
M. D... declared this all folly, and left him with the conviction, that his reason had suffered by the sight of the scenes of terror from which he had escaped.
The next day he came again; but he learned that a gensd'arme had taken M. Cazotte to the Municipality. M. D... went to Petion; arrived at the mayoralty, he heard that his friend had just been taken to prison; he hurried thither; but he was informed that he could not speak to him, he would be tried before the revolutionary tribunal. Soon after this, he heard that his friend had been condemned and executed.
GREENWOOD.
WRITTEN FOR THE INTERNATIONAL MONTHLY MAGAZINE.
BY MAUNSELL B. FIELD.
I would that I were dreaming,
Where lovely flowers are gleaming,
And the tall green grass is streaming
O'er the gone—for ever gone.
Motherwell.
The evening glories of a summer sky
Brimming the heart with yearnings to be blest;
The wood-bird's wailing as he soars on high
Winging his weary way to distant nest;
The murmuring billows as they kiss the strand,
Bearing dim memories of stranger land;