o run! One of these latter, Viard was the
name of him, pretended to accuse Roland, and even the Wife of Roland; to
the joy of Chabot and the Mountain. But the Wife of Roland came, being
summoned, on the instant, to the Convention Hall; came, in her high
clearness; and, with few clear words, dissipated this Viard into
despicability and air; all Friends of Order applauding. (Moniteur,
Seance du 7 Decembre 1792.) So, with Theatre-riots, and 'Bread, or else
kill us;' with Rage, Hunger, preternatural Suspicion, does this wild
Paris pipe. Roland grows ever more querulous, in his Messages and
Letters; rising almost to the hysterical pitch. Marat, whom no power
on Earth can prevent seeing into traitors and Rolands, takes to bed
for three days; almost dead, the invaluable People's-Friend, with
heartbreak, with fever and headache: 'O, Peuple babillard, si tu savais
agir, People of Babblers, if thou couldst but act!'

To crown all, victorious Dumouriez, in these New-year's days, is arrived
in Paris;--one fears, for no good. He pretends to be complaining of
Minister Pache, and Hassenfratz dilapidations; to be concerting measures
for the spring campaign: one finds him much in the company of the
Girondins. Plotting with them against Jacobinism, against Equality,
and the Punishment of Louis! We have Letters of his to the Convention
itself. Will he act the old Lafayette part, this new victorious General?
Let him withdraw again; not undenounced. (Dumouriez, Memoires, iii. c.
4.)

And still, in the Convention Tribune, it drones continually, mere
Juristic Eloquence, and Hypothesis without Action; and there are still
fifties on the President's List. Nay these Gironde Presidents give their
own party preference: we suspect they play foul with the List; men of
the Mountain cannot be heard. And still it drones, all through December
into January and a New year; and there is no end! Paris pipes round it;
multitudinous; ever higher, to the note of the whirlwind. Paris
will 'bring cannon from Saint-Denis;' there is talk of 'shutting the
Barriers,'--to Roland's horror.

Whereupon, behold, the Convention Tribune suddenly ceases droning: we
cut short, be on the List who likes; and make end. On Tuesday next, the
Fifteenth of January 1793, it shall go to the Vote, name by name; and,
one way or other, this great game play itself out!

Chapter 3.2.VII.

The Three Votings.

Is Louis Capet guilty of conspiring against Liberty? Shall our Sentence