LOUIS XVI. AND HIS FAMILY.

I hear thy whisper, and the warm tears gush Into mine eyes; the quick pulse thrills my heart. Thou bidd'st the peace, the reverential hush, The still submission, from my thoughts depart. Dear one, this must not be! The past looks on me from thy mournful eye; The beauty of our free and vernal days; Our communings with sea, and hill, and sky— O, take that bright world from my spirit-gaze. Thou art all earth to me! Shut out the sunshine from my dying room, The jasmine's breath, the murmur of the bee; Let not the joy of bird-notes pierce the gloom; They speak of love, of summer, and of thee Too much, and death is here! Anon.

Three Female and Four Male Figures.

On the 20th of January, 1793, at three o'clock in the morning, the second year of the French republic, the final vote was taken by the Convention, that Louis XVI. should be executed. All the efforts to save the king were now exhausted, and his fate sealed. The decree of the Convention was sent to the king, declaring him to be guilty of treason; that he was condemned to death; that the appeal to the people was refused; and that he was to be executed within twenty-four hours. The king listened to the reading unmoved; he conversed earnestly with his spiritual adviser respecting his will, which he read, and inquired earnestly for his friends, whose sufferings moved his heart deeply. The hour of seven had now arrived, when the king was to hold his last interview with his family. But even this could not be in private. He was to be watched by his jailers, who were to hear every word and witness every gesture. The door opened, and the queen, pallid and woe-stricken, entered, leading her son by the hand. She threw herself into the arms of her husband, and silently endeavored to draw him towards her chamber. "No, no," whispered the king, clasping her to his heart, "I can see you only here." Madame Elizabeth, with the king's daughter, followed. A scene of anguish ensued which neither pen nor pencil can portray. The king sat down, with the queen upon his right hand, his sister on his left, their arms encircling his neck, and their heads resting upon his breast. The dauphin sat upon his father's knee, with his arm around his neck. The beautiful princess, with dishevelled hair, threw herself between her father's knees. An hour passed, during which not an articulate word was spoken; but cries, and groans, and occasional shrieks of anguish, which pierced even the thick wall of the Temple, and were heard in the street below, rose from the group. For two hours the agonizing interview was continued. As they gradually regained some little composure, in low tones they whispered messages of tenderness and love, interrupted by sobs, and kisses, and blinding floods of tears. Louis XVI. described his trial, excusing those who had sentenced him, gave some religious advice to his children, enjoined them to forgive his enemies and bless them. A few beams of daylight began to penetrate the grated windows of the gloomy prison. The hours passed away, while the king listened to the gathering of the troops in the court yard and around the Temple. At nine o'clock a tumultuous noise was heard of men ascending the staircase. The gens d'armes entered, and conveyed him to the carriage at the entrance. The morning was damp and chilly, and gloomy clouds darkened the sky; sixty drums were beating at the heads of the horses, and an army of troops, with all the most formidable enginery of war, preceded, surrounded, and followed his carriage. They reached the Place de la Révolution at twenty minutes past ten o'clock. An immense crowd filled the place, above which towered the guillotine. With a firm tread he ascended the steps of the scaffold, looked for a moment on the keen and polished edge of the axe, and then, turning to the vast throng, said, in a voice clear and untremulous, "People, I die innocent of all the crimes imputed to me. I pardon the authors of my death, and pray to God that the blood you are about to shed may not fall again on France." The drums were ordered to beat, and Louis XVI. was no more.

Directions for forming the Tableau.—This interesting picture contains seven figures: Louis XVI., his wife the queen, Madame Elizabeth, the king's son and daughter, and two gens d'armes. The stage scenery must be placed in the following order: The background of the stage should represent the granite walls of a prison, with grated windows, massive doors, to which are attached bolts, bars, and heavy locks. This scenery can be made in sections of about four by eight feet in size. One section should represent the door of the cell; on it paint the bolts, bars, and locks. At the right of the stage is placed a table of ancient style; on which is a crucifix, two feet in height, a large Bible, and an old-fashioned candlestick, containing a lighted candle. A chair of ancient manufacture should be placed near the table. Louis XVI. is seated in it, and is costumed in a velvet coat and breeches, white silk hose, low shoes, buff vest, white cravat, ruffled bosom, white wig, knee and shoe buckles. The queen is costumed in a moire antique dress, of a showy color, hair hanging loosely over the shoulder. Madame Elizabeth has on a silk robe, differing in color from the queen's; her hair is loosely fastened behind. The daughter has on a long white dress, with velvet waist. The dauphin is dressed in velvet jacket, blue breeches, white hose, knee and shoe buckles, low slippers, lace collar, ruffled bosom and wristbands, and a pink scarf is fastened about his waist. The gens d'armes have blue coats trimmed with buff, buff vest, crimson breeches, white hose, long wigs, low shoes, knee and shoe buckles, and chapeaux. Each must be furnished with a musket, sword, and belt, and one should hold a bunch of large keys. Louis XVI. encircles his daughter's waist with his right hand; his left is clasped by his son. He sits facing the audience; his head is partially turned towards the crucifix, the eyes cast down, and a melancholy look upon the countenance. The queen stands behind the king, between the chair and table; her left hand is placed upon her waist, her right raised to her forehead; her head is thrown back, the eyes partially closed, and cast upwards, while intense anguish is expressed upon her countenance. Madame Elizabeth is kneeling at the left of the king, her hands clasped and raised upwards, head thrown back, and eyes partially closed. The daughter is seated on the right knee of the king; her right hand is placed across her breast, the left hangs carelessly at her side; her head reclines on the shoulder of her father. The dauphin is kneeling between the king and Madame Elizabeth, and grasping the hand of the king; his eyes are fixed on the face of his father, while the countenance expresses grief and sadness. The gens d'armes stand just inside the door, resting on their guns; their eyes are fixed upon the group in the foreground. The light for this tableau must come from the side of the stage opposite the group, and should be of medium brightness; the background may be thrown in the shade. Music of a mournful character.