y courage,
and in political cowardice.'

'They had,' she replied, 'perhaps more passive courage than we have.[1]
My great-great-grandmother, my great-grandmother, and my great-aunt, were
guillotined on the same day. My great-great-grandmother was ninety years
old. When interrogated, she begged them to speak loud, as she was deaf.
'Ecrivez,' said Fouquier Tinville, 'que la citoyenne Noailles a conspire
sourdement contre la Republique.' They were dragged to the Place de la
Republique in the same _tombereau_, and sat waiting their turn on the
same bench.

'My great-aunt was young and beautiful. The executioner, while fastening
her to the plank, had a rose in his mouth. The Abbe de Noailles, who was
below the scaffold, disguised, to give them, at the risk of his life, a
sign of benediction, was asked how they looked.

'"Comme si,' he said, 'elles allaient a la messe."'

'The habit,' said Ampere, 'of seeing people die produces indifference
even to one's own death. You see that among soldiers. You see it in
epidemics. But this indifference, or, to use a more proper word, this
resignation, helped to prolong the Reign of Terror. If the victims had
resisted, if, like Madame du Barry, they had struggled with the
executioner, it would have excited horror.'

'The cries of even a pig,' said Madame de Beaumont, 'make it disagreeable
to kill it.'

'Sanson,' I said, 'long survived the Revolution; he made a fortune and
lived in retirement at Versailles. A lady was run away with between
Versailles and Paris. An elderly man, at considerable risk, stopped her
horse. She was very grateful, but could not get from him his name. At
last she traced him, and found that it was Sanson.'

'Sanson,' said Beaumont, 'may have been an honest man. Whenever a place
of _bourreau_ is vacant, there are thirty or forty candidates, and they
always produce certificates of their extraordinary kindness and humanity.
It seems to be the post most coveted by men eminent for their
benevolence.'

'How many have you?' I asked.

'Eighty-six,' he answered. 'One for each department.'

'And how many executions?'

'About one hundred a year in all France.'

'And what is the salary?'

'Perhaps a couple of thousand francs a year.'

'Really,' said Ampere, 'it is one of the best parts of the patronage of
the Minister of the Interior. _M. le Bourreau_ gets more than a thousand
francs for each operation.'

'We pay by the piece,' I said, 'and find one operator