series of treacherous artifices, which led him to believe that the French Government intended him no harm, he was suddenly arrested in broad daylight, and carried to the dreaded Bastille. The Lieutenant of Police had appointed him to be at his house on that evening, to talk over the subject of his "Annals;" but this was evidently a ruse to lull his suspicions. No time was permitted him to communicate with friends, who were left to remain in entire ignorance of his fate. Arrived at the prison, the officers and their victim crossed the fatal drawbridge which was to separate Linguet, he knew not for how long, from the outer world. Here they conducted him into a little room, where he was stripped and searched, and all articles of value, including pocket-knife, etc., were taken from him, and he was conducted to the dismal cell provided for him. The articles of furniture in the room were two mattresses, half eaten by worms, an old matted chair, the bottom of which was only kept together by packthread, a tottering table, a water-pitcher, a Dutch earthenware drinking pot, and two flagstones which composed the hearth. On opening the bed there arose from it, he says, a great number of moths, which prey on woollen stuff. The prisoner, starting back in horror at the sight, was gruffly told by his conductor, that before he had been there two nights the moths would have disappeared.
Linguet's cell, like that of several others, was situated immediately over the moat, into which the common sewer of the Rue St. Antoine emptied itself. The exhalations from this moat were disgusting; but in order to prevent suffocation, the prisoner was often glad to pass his days and even his nights leaning against the
