ns, Soupers not Fraternal, beam once more with
suitable effulgence, very singular in colour. The fair Cabarus is come
out of Prison; wedded to her red-gloomy Dis, whom they say she treats
too loftily: fair Cabarus gives the most brilliant soirees. Round her is
gathered a new Republican Army, of Citoyennes in sandals; Ci-devants or
other: what remnants soever of the old grace survive, are rallied there.
At her right-hand, in this cause, labours fair Josephine the Widow
Beauharnais, though in straitened circumstances: intent, both of them,
to blandish down the grimness of Republican austerity, and recivilise
mankind.

Recivilise, as of old they were civilised: by witchery of the Orphic
fiddle-bow, and Euterpean rhythm; by the Graces, by the Smiles!
Thermidorian Deputies are there in those soirees; Editor Freron, Orateur
du Peuple; Barras, who has known other dances than the Carmagnole. Grim
Generals of the Republic are there; in enormous horse-collar neckcloth,
good against sabre-cuts; the hair gathered all into one knot, 'flowing
down behind, fixed with a comb.' Among which latter do we not recognise,
once more, the little bronzed-complexioned Artillery-Officer of Toulon,
home from the Italian Wars! Grim enough; of lean, almost cruel aspect:
for he has been in trouble, in ill health; also in ill favour, as a man
promoted, deservingly or not, by the Terrorists and Robespierre Junior.
But does not Barras know him? Will not Barras speak a word for him?
Yes,--if at any time it will serve Barras so to do. Somewhat forlorn
of fortune, for the present, stands that Artillery-Officer; looks, with
those deep earnest eyes of his, into a future as waste as the most.
Taciturn; yet with the strangest utterances in him, if you awaken
him, which smite home, like light or lightning:--on the whole, rather
dangerous? A 'dissociable' man? Dissociable enough; a natural terror and
horror to all Phantasms, being himself of the genus Reality! He stands
here, without work or outlook, in this forsaken manner;--glances
nevertheless, it would seem, at the kind glance of Josephine
Beauharnais; and, for the rest, with severe countenance, with open eyes
and closed lips, waits what will betide.

That the Balls, therefore, have a new figure this winter, we can see.
Not Carmagnoles, rude 'whirlblasts of rags,' as Mercier called them
'precursors of storm and destruction:' no, soft Ionic motions; fit for
the light sandal, and antique Grecian tunic! Efflor