She came as a stranger to the
country, which on that account owed to her its special protection. She
had been called to France to be a Queen, and her greatest crime was that
she would not give up the high station she had been invited to fill. She
had been a faithful wife to a husband who did not love her till he knew
her well, and who was slow in learning anything. She had been a good
mother to the children, who were born, as she believed, to rule the
destinies of France.
She had clung to a falling cause, with a sense of duty which was as
admirable as her courage, and at last she died with the devoted heroism
which so well became her mother's daughter. But what we now look on as
virtues, were vices in the eyes of the republicans, who were her judges.
Her constancy was stubbornness, and her courage was insolence. Her
innocent mirth was called licentiousness, and the royal splendour which
she had been taught to maintain, was looked upon as iniquitous
extravagance. Nor was this, even in those bloody days, enough to condemn
her.
Pages:
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632