demands redress, who can doubt that it will be redressed, and that the people will be satisfied? We have this important guaranty for the tranquillity of France, that Lafayette is in the counsels of the king, and possesses the unbounded confidence of the people. With a perfect knowledge of his countrymen, and with an address of unrivalled tact to soothe and to conciliate, he is, moreover, at the head of the National Guards, and of the whole military force; and possesses, therefore, the power to entreat with energy, where moral persuasion fails. But we have no authentic information to justify the fear that the application of force will become necessary; and we have good reason to distrust those reports which, according to custom, will be continually thrown upon the London Exchange, for the unworthy purpose of speculations in stock.
The quiet and very leisurely manner in which Charles the X. with his family, was permitted to retire from the kingdom, and his reception by the people, every where upon his journey, speak volumes on the subject of the temper of the French, in the very crisis of the revolution. How different from the flight of the unfortunate Louis and his family in 1791—posting by night, in disguise and in dismay—pursued by armed dragoons—finally arrested by the discovery of the keeper of a post-house—and brought back in disgrace to Paris under an armed guard, the informer sitting triumphant above him crowned with laurel—the frantic rabble exulting in his humiliation, and with difficulty restrained from laying violent hands upon him. Charles X. on the contrary, travels, with his family, in open day, by the slowest and easiest journeys, under the respectful escort of the commissaries of the new government; and the people, every where, so far from any vulgar display of insolent triumph, touch their hats in silent respect for the sorrows of the party, with a
delicacy of feeling eminently characteristic of the French when in a state of peace, but at the same time with an air of calm decision quite as manifest as their delicacy.
The whole movement stands in striking contrast to the former revolution. In the two legislative houses there was no violence of debate. Differences of opinion there were: but there was no rude and bitter altercation. On the contrary, all was as calm and decorous as it was decisive. And so far from adopting the bloody revolutionary tribunal which characterised the movement of 1789, one of the first measures proposed is the abolition of capital punishment. It was made immediately after the arrest of the late ministers, and was supported by Lafayette; and no one who observes the point of time and knows the man, can mistake the purpose. How noble is this humanity to the fallen; and how strikingly and honorably does it distinguish the present revolution from the vindictive and sanguinary proceedings of that of 1789. Is it not manifest that every man who has had any thing to do with this affair, is acting with direct reference to the former revolution, and with a settled determination to avoid the false steps which led to its miscarriage? And is not this determination a most propitious pledge of the stability and success of the present revolution?
After all—in a case so dependent on the crooked policy of princes, and on the wayward and turbulent passions of man—it is possible that our hopes may be disappointed. Judging, however, by general appearances both in France and out of it, (so far as any authentic information has reached us) we have reason to cherish the hope that that beautiful country is at length as free as she chooses to be, and that the genius and taste, the fine sensibilities and generous affections which so pre-eminently distinguish her, will now have genial skies
and full scope for their cultivation and expansion. Sure I am that I speak the sentiments, not only of this city but of the whole United States, when I say, that no nation will hail her success with a truer heart of joy than ours, and that there is none on which we believe that liberty will sit more gracefully and attractively than on hers.
Never has her character appeared in a form so captivating as in the late movement. It has brought forward, among her people, a new class of candidates for foreign respect and admiration: that class which her nobles, in haughty contempt, were wont to style the canaille, but who proved themselves, on that occasion, the true noblemen of France, the noblemen of nature. Their conduct throughout the whole movement was marked with the noblest lineaments, and their sudden transition from the shock of arms to the stillness of peace, was sublime. In this they proved their perfect title to liberty by their fitness to enjoy it, and, on a most trying occasion, have presented a model of prudence and wisdom worthy of the remembrance and imitation of us all.
Among the youth of the Polytechnic school, too, there was a beautiful little incident, so characteristic of the fine and delicate sensibility of the French, that I cannot forbear adverting to it. When those boys were required by the present king to designate from among their number the twelve most distinguished in the late conflict, with the view of conferring on them the decorations of the legion of honor—what was their answer? Permit me to read it, as extracted from our papers, for it is one of those things that will bear a second reading.
"To the Secretary of War:
"General—We come in the name of the Polytechnic school, to express our gratitude on the subject of the