"At four in the morning, on the 29th July, all Paris was in motion to witness the death of the tyrant. He was placed on the chariot, between Henriot and Couthon, whose remains were as mutilated as his own; the crowd, which for long had ceased to attend the executions, manifested the utmost joy at their fate. The blood from his jaw burst through the bandage, and overflowed his dress; his face was ghastly pale. He shut his eyes, but could not close his ears against the imprecations of the multitude. A woman breaking from the crowd, exclaimed- Murderers of all my kindred, your agony fills me with joy; descend to hell, covered with the curses of every mother in France!' Twenty of his comrades were executed before him; when he ascended the scaffold, the executioner tore the bandage from his face; the lower jaw fell upon his breast, and he uttered a yell, which filled every heart with horror. For some minutes the frightful figure was held up to the multitude; he was then placed under the axe, and the last sounds which reached his ears were the exulting shouts, which were prolonged for some minutes after his death.

Along with Robespierre were executed, Henriot, Couthon, St. Just, Dumas, Coffinhal, Simon, and all the leaders of the revolt. St. Just alone displayed the firmness, which had so often been witnessed among the victims whom they had sent to the scaffold. Couthon wept with terror; the others died uttering blasphemies, which were drowned in the cheers of the people. They shed tears for joy, they embraced each other in transport, they crowded round the scaffold to behold the bloody remains of the tyrants. Yes, Robespierre, there is a God!' said a poor man as he approached the lifeless body of one so lately the object of dread; his fall was felt by all present as an immediate manifestation of the Divinity."

Thus terminated the Reign of Terror, and with it the bloody period of the Revolution. We have gone over a few of its most striking facts in our author's language, for the purpose of shewing, in the most emphatic and impartial manner, the good qualities of his work. But the task of criticism still remains to be performed; and we proceed with equal impartiality, to point out to Mr. Alison the defects of his book as a philosophical history, and to guard the public against those false and very shallow views he has seen cause to entertain. The practice so freely indulged in by various historians, of distributing praise and blame upon other than moral principles, or, in other words, of reconstructing the history of the period of which they write, according to the newest and most improved notions, often reminds us of the good nature of King Alphonso, who is said to have volunteered a remodelling of the actual system of the heavens. We do not mean, that history de facto, charts out the course which might have been pursued by wiser beings, far less the course to be desired by immaculate beings; but in general it assuredly shews something of the only course attainable because of the conflicting interests and passions of the time; and the speculators who attempt afterwards to fashion it, not unusually abstract themselves from every practical consideration, and cobble up their novelties upon the hypothesis that men might have acted contrary to every moral possibility. The difficulties of bringing out a criticism of this sort to any good purpose are plainly enormous; and we think it will require not much trouble to convince a gentleman, who has manifestly been privileged with a considerable apportionment of candour, that he has overlooked several elements of egregious weight, in framing the theory he has just given to the world. That theory we shall state in Mr. Alison's own words :

"Timely concession, it is frequently said, is the only way to prevent a revolution. The observation is just in one sense, but unjust in another; and it is by attending to the distinction between the two great objects of popular ambition, that the means can alone be attained of allaying public discontent, without unhinging the frame of society.

"There is, in the first place, the love of freedom, that is, of immunity from personal restriction, oppression, or injury. This principle is perfectly innocent, and

never exists without producing the happiest effects. Every concession which is calculated to increase this species of liberty, is comparatively safe in all ages and in all places.

"But there is another principle, strong at all times, but especially to be dreaded in moments of excitement. This is the principle of democratic ambition; the desire of exercising the powers of sovereignty; of sharing in the government of the state. This is the dangerous principle; the desire not of exercising industry without molestation, but of exerting power without control.

"The first principle will only produce disturbances when real evils are felt; and with the removal of actual grievance, tranquillity may be anticipated. The second frequently produces convulsions, independent of any real cause of complaint; or, if it has been excited by such, it continues after they have been removed. The first never spreads by mere contagion; the second is frequently most virulent when the disease has been contracted in this manner."

Admitting, for the progress of argument, the reality of this supposed dangerousness of the democratic extension of power,-we would put it to Mr. Alison whether he seriously deems the recommended concession of all personal rights, to be other than an idle flourish, so long as the Aristocracy is possessed of irresponsible power? If he will glance once more over his own volumes, proofs will start up from every page, that the recommendation is a sermon to the deaf adder; and the history of the whole world will add force to the lesson. Look at the very commencement of this stupendous movement. The concession recommended, might have been given altogether previous to the convocation of the States General, and, we hesitate not to say, it would for the time have superseded the necessity of their convocation; but who proposed it--who even dreamt of it? It was in fact the stubborn determination to uphold to the last hazard every fragment of privilege which sent the wretched Emigrés to the Rhine, and caused the first unsheathing of that sword which, for so many subsequent years, glared as the red lightning over Europe. Talk to an Aristocrat of resigning his privilege to oppress other men, and to feed upon their substance, and he will turn away from you, admiring your stupidity, or vowing your destruction. The canker of pride has eaten into his heart, and destroyed all humanity and all reason; and it is thus forced upon the convictions of the buffeted people, that relief is attainable only by increase of their own power,—and the public safety, by the destruction of the aristocracy. Such has been the course of events from the beginning of time; such during the French Revolution; such in our own era; and such, in all probability, will it continue until privilege is swept away and forgotten from the earth. Mr. Alison's theory is just that which not only the French tried, and so signally disproved; but which the mass of every European nation has striven most eagerly to effectuate, without one having yet been able to boast of success. The desire after personal, rather than political liberty, is the very genius of the movement of the Western World. It is the principle which holds our modern nations in so direct contradistinction to the Roman and Grecian commonwealths; for, with these illustrious people, to be subject to political inequality was a galling disgrace, whilst they easily resigned the liberties even of their own homes. The idiosyncracy of the Teutonic race, or more probably the accumulation of the experience of eighteen hundred years, has instructed us more accurately in the nature of that liberty which is the root of dignity, and the first element of moral progress; and now that direct attempts have failed to attain it, we are rejoicing that we have got upon a new track, and are in the act of accomplishing changes which will bring our oppressors to the dust. If Mr. Alison will revert to the debates on the Reform Bill, he will find

our view triumphantly established, by the main direction of the arguments marshalled to oppose the measure he laments. The aristocracy did not go into the speculative view of the philosophical evils of democracy; but they looked to its practical evils in respect of their pensionsin respect of the probable disturbance of our churches as their spawning beds-in respect of its influence on that standing infamy in finance, the tax on bread, in behoof of their rentals. Take away this fear, and they would have cared nothing for the bugbear democracy. They did not hate the Bill, because they dreaded robbery by the people; but they hated the Bill because it would prevent their robbing the people. And it remains to be witnessed, whether Providence has not in store for us some new and yet more stupendous illustration of the fatal truth we assert. It has shortly to be proved, whether for the sake of some one of these miserable opportunities of mean pilfering, the hardened obstinacy of one party, aided by the caprice and wantonnesss of others, will not plunge us into a condition from which there will be no escape but through the horrors of social war; thus to prove, a second time, to the astounded world, and leave a record to posterity, how lightly the possessors of power, or as we should charitably denominate them, the victims of privilege, esteem the happiness of a great people, and the stability of a mighty empire!

But we totally disallow the main point in Mr. Alison's theory. We altogether resist his notion that an increase of democratic influence is harmful ;-inasmuch as we can prove its necessity to the moral advancement of nations. Far above the pushing forward of mere economic improvement, it is the characteristic function of civilization to exalt man's re. spect for himself, to purify our moral notions, to establish the qualities of mind as the single legitimate causes of respect, and sources of honour. We are sluggish, but we advance; and our inward life already presses upon the shell that surrounds us. This is a course in which the Aristocrat will lag behind of necessity, for he is born to moral blindness; and as he lives in it, so he and his whole race will die in it. If the world be not again involved in the night of barbarism, factitious honours will perish, were it for no crime but their attendant insolence. The abstract absurdity of a houseful of hereditary legislators, is a thing which must tell upon men's minds in time; but we doubt if human nature will permit its dissolution without momentary disorder. Our difference with Mr. Alison, then, is this:-There is, in the structure of modern societies, a source of gross injustice, and immoral insolence; he shews no practicable method of getting quit of the former, nor does he recognize the existence of the latter. Well would it be, if all could go on more smoothly; if bit-by-bit reform could approximate Government to the people's wishes, or keep pace with their power; but we are assured that at No hazard can these abuses remain, or the cobweb be secured to the spider. Grief it may be to the lovers of ancient things; but all MUST change! We prove the existence of a free world in the skies, by appealing to big aspirations within our breasts; and we demand the moral of the argument for the point to which we at present tend,-inasmuch as even our existing feelings, and far more what they may be raised to, are wholly irreconcileable with existing social arrangements. It is manifest from this word of distinct and steadfast prophecy, that we are approaching an era of more unfettered action and sterner morality. Sacred antiquity shall soon be scanned without the blanching of the inquirer; we shall walk through its long galleries undaunted,-pull down

all obscene idols from its niches, and set up purer deities of our own! No longer is the mystic veil drawn across these once awful adyta:

"Apparet domus intus, et atria longa patescunt,

Apparent Priami, et veterum penetralia regum,
Armatosque vident stantes in limine primo."

What, then, do we make of the French Revolution, and how interpret it? We make this of it :-It was the beginning of an unknown order of things-the destruction of an old world and the founding of a new. The grand benefit already resulting to France is seen in the present character of her people. The plague-bearing Aristocracy is destroyed, Whether this new and never more will its poison infest that country. order might have been ushered otherwise in-whether the consolidated oppression and abuse of ages might have been overthrown in peace, and entombed like a venerated old man, are questions we do not answer, for Neither know we to we fathom not the resources of Providence. what precise ultimate configuration these Western Governments are tending; but we are satisfied with the practical fact, that it must be a configuration capable of eliciting and comprehending a fuller development of the energies of the human spirit, and thereby joining earth more closely with that superior kingdom, whither many great and good have already gone,-the precursors of all who shall be worthy.

TO A TEAR.

OH! thou that, tremulous and clear,
When on the cheek thou dost appear,

Canst sooth despair, and give the heart relief;

Of life how many a varied feeling,

Bright dubious drop! art thou revealing?

Alternately the type of joy and grief.

Thou wert by sin first introduced to man,

When woman's curiosity outran

Discretion, and our race from Eden hurl'd:

Great Alexander wept thee, when no state

Remain'd for his red arm to subjugate,

And his dread sceptre waved triumphant o'er the world!

'Mid wasteful war, and carnage dread,

When by a pitying hero shed,

Thou add'st a jewel to his crown of fame :

But, oh! how different the tear,

That speaks the trembling coward's fear?

At once his badge of infamy and shame.

When lovers part, perhaps for ever,

Thou mark 'st the moment when they sever;

And when fond plighted bosoms meet,

Thou can'st their passion pure express

More truly than can words confess,

For then thou'rt from the heart, and scorn'st deceit.

When dew-eyed pity gives thee birth,
There's not a sparkling gem of earth
Can purer lustre borrow;

And all thy loveliness we see,
When thou art shed by sympathy

Upon the breast of sorrow.

When for a sister's fault thou flowest,
How bright on beauty's face thou showest!
Which then seems lovlier than in smiles:

Yet, thou can'st speak dissimulation's art,
And, glittering on the cheek, belie the heart,

Now gracing Eldon's jaws, and now-a crocodile's!

TRIALS AND OTHER PROCEEDINGS IN MATTERS CRIMINAL, BEFORE THE HIGH COURT OF JUSTICIARY IN SCOTLAND; Selected from the Records of that Court, and from Original Manuscripts Preserved in the General Register House, Edinburgh. 4 Vols. quarto. By Robert Pitcairn, Writer to his Majesty's Signet, F.S.A. Scot. and Hon. F.S.A. Perth, &c. William Tait, Edinburgh.

FEW of our Scottish readers require to be told that this important work has been in course of publication for some years, having appeared at intervals in Parts. It is now completed, in four substantial quarto volumes. We think that the happy termination of a great literary labour is as apt an occasion for congratulation as the finishing of a bridge or the opening of a railroad :—they are all national works. In this belief we take leave to congratulate Mr. Pitcairn on the happy completion of what few literary men of these degenerate days would have had the courage to undertake; and fewer still the patience, perseverance, and magnanimity to bring to a successful conclusion, in the face of stupendous difficulties, and with the drawback of foreseeing that this was of the nature of those labours which must prove their own reward. Let us be thankful to Providence which has created boys who will sacrifice every pleasure and advantage to go to sea for us; men who will lavish their fortunes in perfecting mechanical discoveries of which the public must reap all the profit; and writers who give up a lifetime of leisure and thought to works which enrich the general stores of knowledge, but can never repay their authors. Mr. Pitcairn is, we fear, among the last of the literary legal race who will disinterestedly spend years in knocking about the dust and digging among the rubbish of the mines of antiquity, to collect the precious materials requisite to the erection of a monument which many will admire, though few will find it expedient to contribute to the expense of erection. This, however, is all as it should be; or if there occur occasional individual hardship, the general good more than compensates it. So, trusting that Mr. Pitcairn may not be very much a pecuniary loser by the public gain, we proceed to profit by his toils.

His laborious and comprehensive work, is valuable in many ways. To the lawyer, but especially to the Scotch practitioner, it is professionally useful. It will minister largely to those pursuits and speculations in which the historical antiquary delights; while to the statesman, the philosopher, and the moralist,, who dive deeply, or look far abroad through the realms of human thought and action, these true pictures of the manners, habits of mind, and conduct, of a rude and turbulent society in a state of change and progression, furnish the most valuable information. The materials of authentic history, in rude periods of society, are generally difficult to come by; and if we are to find them anywhere unmixed, it must be in the records of Courts of Law. The poets, at all periods, colour and exaggerate, flatter or satirize; early chroniclers and travellers distort facts from party bias, or neglect important traits and details from slothfulness or ignorance; but the records of Courts of Law, imperfect as they may be, reflect with fidelity contemporary manners; and legal declarations and examinations, and the evidence evolved on trials, generally give a truer, because a closer view of the state of a rude society than any other description of testimony. The value of such documents must not be estimated by contemporary records. These

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