Burke:

Reflections on the Revolution in France (London, 1790)

It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the queen of France, then the dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she just began to move in, -- glittering like the morning-star, full of life, and splendor, and joy. Oh! what a revolution! and what an heart must I have, to contemplate without emotion that elevation and that fall! Little did I dream when she added titles of veneration to those of enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, that she should ever be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace concealed in that bosom; little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honour and of cavaliers. I though ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult. -- But the age of chivalry is gone. -- That of sophisters, oeconomists, and calculators, has succeeded; and the glory of Europe is extinguished for ever. Never, never more, shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex, that proud submission, that dignified obedience, that subordination of the heart, which kept alive, even in servitude itself, the spirit of an exalted freedom. The unbought grace of life, the cheap defence of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment and heroic enterprize is gone! It is gone, that sensibility of principle, that chastity of honour, which felt a stain like a wound, which inspired courage whilst it mitigated ferocity, which ennobled whatever it touched, and under which vice itself lost half its evil, by losing all its grossness. (Oxford Classics edition, pp. 75-6)

More: Strictures on the Modern System of Female Education, With a view of the principles and conduct prevalent among women of rank and fortune. 2 vols., 2nd edition, corrected (London: T. Cadell Jun. and W. Davies, 1799).

But as it would be foreign to the present design to expatiate on those sad effects of ungoverned passion which terminate in criminal excesses, it is only intended here to hazard a few remarks on those lighter shades of the same defect, which injure the comfort without injuring the character, and impair the happiness of life without incurring any very censurable degree of guilt or discredit. Let it, however, be incidentally remarked, and let it be carefully remembered, that if no women have risen so high in the scale of moral excellence as those whose natural warmth has been conscientiously governed by its true guide, and directed to its true end; so none have furnished such deplorable instances of extreme depravity as those who, through the ignorance or the dereliction of principle, have been abandoned by the excess of this very temper to the violence of ungoverned passions and uncontrolled inclinations. And perhaps, if we were to inquire into the remote cause of some of the blackest crimes which stain the annals of mankind, profligacy, murder, and especially suicide, we might trace them back to this original principle, an ungoverned Sensibility. (pp. 102-3)

Williams:

From a review of Letters containing a Sketch of the Politics of France, from the Thirty-first of May 1793, till the Twenty-eighth of July 1794, and of the Scenes which have passed in the prisons in Paris. 2 Vols. (London: G. G. and J. Robinson, 1795). Gentleman's Magazine 65 (December, 1795), 1030-1031.

She "tells a plain tale," which, one would think, would for ever "put down" the admiration of the French revolution; yet we are given to understand that liberty has been innocent of the horrible outrages committed in France under the sanction of her name. Miss Williams must excuse us if we say she has debased her sex, her heart, her feelings, her talents, in recording such a tissue of horror and villany, and, we hesitate not to say, daring to insult a regular government, and a happy people, with such details, whose result we defy her to shew has yet been productive of one single good; nay, rather must make the name of the French nation abhorred through endless ages, and make Britons enamoured of their constitution and character as well as their insulated situation.

Further reading in hypertext:

On the slave trade: see Thomas Clarkson (3 documents); Debate (1791); Mungo Park.

On the French Revolution: see Burke (and reviews); Williams (and reviews); Macintosh.