end of the story. The storming of the Bastille was almost as much applauded in London as in Paris, but the burning, the plundering, the executions in the name of justice, by which the politest nation in the world seemed to be degrading itself by acts which would disgrace a horde of savages, soon alienated most Englishmen. The times were troublous ones, still the city of Paris maintained its round of gaiety undisturbed; for "Paris is a volcano with two craters, one of passion and one of pleasure." On the still fresh ruins of the grim Bastille, now demolished for ever, Frenchmen danced with glee. It was one way of showing that the ancient rêgime had for ever disappeared. The Revolution was accomplished amid song and dance—the "Marseillaise" and the "Carmagnole." In this country party passion ran high. Burke published his Reflections on the Revolution in France, in which he denounced in eloquent and impressive language the terrible doings in France. This book called forth many rejoinders, of which Tom Paine's Rights of Man, and Mackintosh's Vindiciæ Gallicæ are the most remarkable. We can see the reason why Burke spoke against Priestley; his opinions were considered heretical and violent. Priestley had written with great fierceness against the episcopacy and ecclesiastical governments generally, and regarded all civil establishments of Christianity, and all connections between Church and State, as abuses and barriers to the propagation of truth. Consequently, he and his friends rejoiced
