herward? He that made him
knows. Patriot Paris may sound triple and tenfold, in dole and wail;
reechoed by Patriot France; and the Convention, "Chabot pale with
terror, declaring that they are to be all assassinated," may decree him
Pantheon Honors, Public Funeral, Mirabeau's dust making way for him; and
Jacobin Societies, in lamentable oratory, summing up his character,
parallel him to One, whom they think it honor to call "the good
Sansculotte"--whom we name not here; also a Chapel may be made, for the
urn that holds his Heart, in the Place du Carrousel; and new-born
children be named Marat; and Lago-di-Como Hawkers bake mountains of
stucco into unbeautiful Busts; and David paint his Picture, or
Death-Scene; and such other Apotheosis take place as the human genius,
in these circumstances, can devise: but Marat returns no more to the
light of this Sun. One sole circumstance we have read with clear
sympathy, in the old _Moniteur_ Newspaper: how Marat's Brother comes
from Neuchatel to ask of the Convention, "that the deceased Jean Paul
Marat's musket be given him." For Marat, too, had a brother and natural
affections; and was wrapt once in swaddling clothes, and slept safe in a
cradle like the rest of us. Ye children of men! A sister of his, they
say, lives still to this day in Paris.[40]

As for Charlotte Corday, her work is accomplished; the recompense of it
is near and sure. The _chere amie_, and neighbors of the house, flying
at her, she "overturns some movables," entrenches herself till the
gendarmes arrive; then quietly surrenders; goes quietly to the Abbaye
Prison: she alone quiet, all Paris sounding, in wonder, in rage or
admiration, round her. Duperret is put in arrest, on account of her; his
Papers sealed--which may lead to consequences. Fauchet, in like manner;
though Fauchet had not so much as heard of her. Charlotte, confronted
with these two Deputies, praises the grave firmness of Duperret,
censures the dejection of Fauchet.

On Wednesday morning, the thronged Palais de Justice and Revolutionary
Tribunal can see her face; beautiful and calm: she dates it "Fourth day
of the Preparation of Peace." A strange murmur ran through the Hall, at
sight of her, you could not say of what character. Tinville has his
indictments and tape papers; the cutler of the Palais Royal will testify
that he sold her the sheath-knife; "All these details are needless,"
interrupted Charlotte; "it is I that killed Marat."

"By whose