r civil broils?
Would her lovely and calumniated queen, the virtuous Malesherbes, the learned Condorcet; would religion, personified in the pious ministers of the altar, courage and honor, in the host of high-minded nobles, and science, in its worthy representative, Lavoisier; would the daily hecatomb of loyalty and worth—would all have been immolated by the stroke of the guillotine?
or Russell and Sidney, and the long succession of victims of party and tyranny, by the axe?
The fires of Smithfield would not have blazed, nor, after the lapse of ages, should we yet shudder at the names of St. Bartholomew if the ordinary ecclesiastical law had not usurped the attributes of divine vengeance, and, by the sacrilegious and absurd doctrine that offences against the Deity were to be punished with death, given a pretext to these atrocities.
Nor, in the awful and mysterious scene on Mount Calvary, would that agony have been inflicted if, by the daily sight of the cross, as an instrument of