lled with the unlucky sheep
of the Gallican church, scattered before the teeth and howl of the
republican wolf; and England saw, for the first time, the secrets of the
monastery poured out before the light of day. The appearance of some among
this sable multitude, though venerable and dignified, could not prevent
the infinite grotesque of the others from having its effect on the
spectator. The monks and priesthood of France amounted to little less than
a hundred and fifty thousand. All were now thrown up from the darkness of
centuries before a wondering world. I had Milton's vision of Limbo before
my eyes.

"Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars,
A violent cross wind from either coast
Blew them transverse. Then might ye see
Cowls, hoods, and habits, with their wearers, tost,
And flutter'd into rags; their reliques, beads,
Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls,
The sport of winds."

The mire was fully stirred up in which the hierarchy had enjoyed its sleep
and sunshine for a thousand years. The weeds and worms had been fairly
scraped off, which for a thousand years had grown upon the keel of the
national vessel, and of which the true wonder was, that the vessel had
been able to make sail with them clinging to her so long. In fact, I was
thus present at one of the most remarkable phenomena of the whole
Revolution. The flight of a noblesse was nothing to this change. The
glittering peerage of France, created by a court, and living in perpetual
connexion with the court, as naturally followed its fate as a lapdog
follows the fortunes of its mistress; but here was a digging up of the
moles, an extermination of the bats, a general extrusion of the subversive
principle, to a race of existence which, whether above or below ground,
seemed almost to form a part of the soil. Monkery was broken up, like a
ship dashed against the shores of the bay of Biscay. The ship was not only
wrecked, but all its fragments continued to be tossed on the ceaseless
surge. The Gallican church was flung loose over Europe, at a time when all
Europe itself was in commotion. I own, to the discredit of my political
foresight, that I thought its forms and follies extinguished for ever. The
snake was more tenacious of life than I had dreamed. But if I erred, I did
not err alone.

Mordecai, whom I found immersed deeper and deeper in continental politics,
and who scarcely denied his being the accredited agent of the emigrant