"The king and the princes had left the Thuilleries, to be out of the view of so mortifying a business. The court of the palace, which used to be gay with young gardes du corps and equipages, was now silent, deserted, and shut up. Not a soul moved in it. The top of the arch was filled with people, and the horses, though as yet all there, might be seen to begin to move. The carriages, that were to take them away, were in waiting below, and a tackle of ropes was already affixed to one. The small door, leading to the top, was protected by a strong guard: every one was striving to obtain permission to gratify his curiosity, by visiting the horses for the last time that they could be visited in this situation. Permission, however, could necessarily be granted but to few. I was of the fortunate number. In a minute I had climbed the narrow dark stair, ascended a small ladder, and was out on the top, with the most picturesque view before me that can be imagined: An English lady asked me to assist her into Bonaparte's car of victory: his own statue was to have been placed in it, when he came back a conqueror from his Russian expedition! I followed the lady and her husband into the car, and we found a Prussian officer there before us. He looked at us, and with a good-humoured smile, said, The emperor kept the English out of France, but the English have now got where he could not!-Ah, pauvre Napoleon!'

"The cry of the French now was, that it was abominable, execrable, to insult the king in his palace-to insult him in the face of his own subjects, by removing the horses in the face of day! I adjourned with a friend to dine at a restaurateur's, near the garden of the Thuilleries, after witnessing what I have described. Between seven and eight in the evening, we heard the rolling of wheels, the clatter of cavalry, and the tramp of infantry. A number of British were in the room: they all rose and rushed to the door, without hats, and carrying in their haste their white table napkins in their hands. The horses were going past, in military procession, lying on their sides, in separate cars. First came cavalry, then infantry, then a car; then more cavalry; more infantry, then another car; and so on, till all the four past. The drums were beating-and the standards went waving by. This was the only appearance of parade, that attended any of the removals. Three Frenchmen, seeing the group of English, came up to us, and began a conversation. They appealed to us if this was not shameful. A gentleman observed, that the horses were only going back to the place from whence the French had taken them: if there was a right in power for France, there must also be one for other states: but the better way to consider these events, was, as terminating the times of robbery and discord. Two of them seemed much inclined to come instantly round to our opinion: but one was much more consistent. He appeared an officer, and was advanced beyond the middle age of life. He kept silence for a moment; and then, with strong emphasis, said- You have left me nothing for my children but hatred against England; this shall be my legacy to them.'-Sir,' it was replied, it will do your children no good, and England no injury.'

CRITICISM.-Complot d' Arnold, etc. The Plot of Arnold and Sir Henry Clinton against the United States of America and General Washington, in September, 1780. Paris, Didot. 1816, in 8vo. xliv. and 184 pages, with portraits of Washington and Arnold. 5 francs.—Translated for the Port Folio, from the Journal des Savans.

THOUGH the independence of the United States of America was achieved more than thirty years ago, it is still difficult to acquire precise information concerning the civil and military details of that memorable revolution. The conspiracy of Arnold, for example, is rather hinted at than detailed in the periodical writings, memoirs, histories, and even in the life, otherwise so voluminous, of General Washington by Judge Marshall. It is, however, a remarkable event in the annals of the United States, since we see there, only two men, Silas Deane and Benedict Arnold, who, during those troubles, have abused public employments to betray the cause of their country. The author who now relates to us the conspiracy of Arnold, has seen nearly all its circumstances; he has observed them with the most impartial attention, and the lively interest with which they have inspired him, animates his recital.

The preliminary discourse which precedes this recital, presents a general picture of the people of the United States, in which we can distinguish various effects resulting from its geographical position, from its industry, from the institutions of William Penn, from English domination, but above all, from the independence acquired by courage, and preserved by wise laws. It is by reducing to practice, theories, which, without this singular example, would appear imaginary, that this people is become a real nation which may one day be powerful, but is already happy. Crimes are rare in that country; public punishments almost unknown, and an armed force is seldom necessary to preserve authority. The load of a public debt is hardly felt there, because neither war, nor the errors of government, can, in that country, prevent the progress of industry, and the continual increase of its productions. The author is persuaded, that it is not the interest of any power to trouble the repose and prosperity of the people of the United States; he finds in these aggressions still more imprudence than injustice; in his opinion, there is no na

tion which is not interested in promoting the natural progress of all the rest.

In explaining the effects of the liberty of the press in the United States, he shows that it is the government which reaps the greatest advantages from it, and that the collision of opinions, however noisy they may be, never fails to end in subjecting all to the sacred empire of the law. He believes, in fine, that the moral and political system of that nation, should preserve it for a long time from the spirit of conquest, and from the dangers with which the ambitious dare to threaten it. "So much wealth," says he, "flows from two causes, which have never been seen united before American independence; a good constitution, and lands of inexhaustible fertility, which, for more than six centuries, may be distributed to a continually increasing population." The author, however, does not dissemble neither the local calamities which continue to afflict that country; the contagious air which prevails on the banks of some rivers; the fevers that are caused by great heats succeeding humidity; the periodical rains which overflow the lakes and rivers, inundating the plains, and depositing there an impure sediment; nor the ravages which the savages, both cruel and perfidious, exercise upon the western frontier; nor the fatal or dangerous slavery of the blacks, which is perpetuated in the southern states; nor the opposition which exists between the interests of certain states; nor, in fine, the progress which yet remains to be made in arts, in letters, in science, not for the purpose of shining with a useless splendour on the globe, but in order to enable them to reap all the fruits of liberty, and to conquer or soften the rigors of nature. But far from being alarmed at these various difficulties, it is rather necessary to reckon the number of the advantages of a nation so young, the need she has of resisting, and triumphing over them, by a powerful and wise activity.

We quit these preliminary observations with regret, because we ought chiefly to make known the body of the work. The English colonies were, forty years ago, declared free, when, in 1778, the French government resolved to second their efforts. The author replies to the censures which that determination gave birth to, and represents it as a measure equally prudent and generous.