bosoms." No! It is not making its way into their bosoms. It has forced
its way into their mouths! The evil spirit by which they are possessed,
though essentially a liar, is forced by the tortures of conscience to
confess the truth,--to confess enough for their condemnation, but not
for their amendment. Shakspeare very aptly expresses this kind of
confession, devoid of repentance, from the mouth of an usurper, a
murderer, and a regicide:--

"We are ourselves compelled,
Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,
To give in evidence."

Whence is their amendment? Why, the author writes, that, on their
murderous insurrectionary system, their own lives are not sure for an
hour; nor has their power a greater stability. True. They are convinced
of it; and accordingly the wretches have done all they can to preserve
their lives, and to secure their power; but not one step have they taken
to amend the one or to make a more just use of the other. Their wicked
policy has obliged them to make a pause in the only massacres in which
their treachery and cruelty had operated as a kind of savage
justice,--that is, the massacre of the accomplices of their crimes: they
have ceased to shed the inhuman blood of their fellow-murderers; but
when they take any of those persons who contend for their lawful
government, their property, and their religion, notwithstanding the
truth which this author says is making its way into their bosoms, it has
not taught them the least tincture of mercy. This we plainly see by
their massacre at Quiberon, where they put to death, with every species
of contumely, and without any exception, every prisoner of war who did
not escape out of their hands. To have had property, to have been robbed
of it, and to endeavor to regain it,--these are crimes irremissible, to