We arrived at Lyons on the 14th, the Day of the Grand Fête. We saw the Town Hall illuminated, and a Review on the melancholy Plains of Buttereaux, the common Tomb of so many Lyonnese. Here we have remained since, but shall probably be at Geneva on the 23rd. I lodge at the Hotel de Parc looking into the Place de Ferreant. The Landlady, to my great surprise, spoke to me in English very fluently. She is also a very excellent Spaniard. She has seen better days, her husband having been a Merchant, but the Revolution destroyed him. She was Prisoner for some time at Liverpool, taken by a Privateer belonging to Tarleton and Rigge, who, I am sorry to say, did not behave quite so handsomely as they should, the private property not having been restored. Of all the Towns I have seen this has suffered most. All the Châteaux and Villas in its most beautiful Environs are shut up. The fine Square of St. Louis le Grand, then Belle Cour, now Place Buonaparte, is knocked to pieces; the fine Statue is broken and removed, and nothing left that could remind you of what it was. I have been witness to a scene which, of course, my curiosity as a Traveller would not let me pass over, but which I hope not to see again--an Execution on the Guillotine. Charles saw a man suffer at Châlons; we did not know till it was over, but the Machine was still standing, and the marks of the Execution very recent. On looking out of my window the morning after our arrival here, I saw the dreadful Instrument in the Place de Ferreant, and on inquiry found that five men were to be beheaded in the morning and two in the evening. They deserved their fate; they had robbed some Farmhouses and committed some cruelties. In England, however, they would probably have escaped, as the evidence was chiefly presumptive. They were brought to the Scaffold from the Prison, tied each with his arms behind him and again to each other; they were attended by a Priest, not, however, in black, and a party of soldiers. The time of execution of the whole five did not exceed five minutes. Of all situations in the world, I can conceive of none half so terrible as that of the last Prisoner. He saw his companions ascend one after another, heard each fatal blow, and saw each Body thrown aside to make room for him. I shall never forget his countenance when he stretched out his neck on the fatal board. He shut his eyes on looking down where the heads of his companions had fallen, and instantly his face turned from ghastly paleness to a deep red, and the wire was touched and he was no more. Of all Deaths it is far the most easy; not a convulsive struggle could be perceived after the blow. The sight is horrid in the extreme, though not awful, as no ceremony is used to make it so. Those who have daily seen 200 suffer without the least ceremony or trial get hardened to the sight.