Shortly after, the king appeared in the assembly, standing uncovered; and without any attention to ceremony. He addressed the representatives of the people with artful affection: for as it is impossible to avoid comparing his present affectionate style, with the cold contempt with which he answered their repeated remonstrances the preceding evening, it is not judging harshly to despise the affectation, and to suggest, that it was dictated rather by selfish prudence than by a sense of justice, or a feeling of humanity. He lamented the disorder that reigned in the capital, and requested them to think of some method to bring back order and tranquillity. He alluded to the report, that the personal safety of the deputies had been menaced; and, with contemptible duplicity asked, if his well-known character did not give the lie to such a rumour.—Reckoning then, he concluded, on the love and fidelity of his subjects, he had given orders to the troops to repair to more distant quarters—and he authorized, nay, invited them, to make known his intentions to the metropolis. This speech was interrupted and followed by the most lively expression of applause; though the sagacity of a number of the deputies could not possibly have been clouded by their sympathy: and the king returning to the palace on foot, great part of the assembly escorted him, joined by a concourse of people, who rent the air with their benedictions. The declaration of Louis, that, trusting to the representatives of the people, he had ordered the troops to withdraw from Versailles, being spread abroad, every person, feeling relieved from the oppression of fear, and unshackled from the fetters of despotism, threw off care; and the national assembly immediately appointed eighty-four of it’s most respectable members, to convey to Paris the glad intelligence; that the harrassed parisians might participate in the joy they had procured the assembly, by the most noble exertions.