man knows whither.

The Emigration is not gone many miles, Prince Conde hardly across the
Oise, when his Majesty, according to arrangement, for the Emigration
also thought it might do good,--undertakes a rather daring enterprise:
that of visiting Paris in person. With a Hundred Members of Assembly;
with small or no military escort, which indeed he dismissed at the
Bridge of Sevres, poor Louis sets out; leaving a desolate Palace; a
Queen weeping, the Present, the Past, and the Future all so unfriendly
for her.

At the Barrier of Passy, Mayor Bailly, in grand gala, presents him with
the keys; harangues him, in Academic style; mentions that it is a great
day; that in Henri Quatre's case, the King had to make conquest of his
People, but in this happier case, the People makes conquest of its King
(a conquis son Roi). The King, so happily conquered, drives forward,
slowly, through a steel people, all silent, or shouting only Vive la
Nation; is harangued at the Townhall, by Moreau of the three-thousand
orders, by King's Procureur M. Ethys de Corny, by Lally Tollendal, and
others; knows not what to think of it, or say of it; learns that he is
'Restorer of French Liberty,'--as a Statue of him, to be raised on the
site of the Bastille, shall testify to all men. Finally, he is shewn at
the Balcony, with a Tricolor cockade in his hat; is greeted now, with
vehement acclamation, from Square and Street, from all windows and
roofs:--and so drives home again amid glad mingled and, as it were,
intermarried shouts, of Vive le Roi and Vive la Nation; wearied but
safe.

It was Sunday when the red-hot balls hung over us, in mid air: it is
now but Friday, and 'the Revolution is sanctioned.' An August National