nite Constitutional scarecrow,--what is to be looked
for? Not in the finite Constitutional scarecrow, but in what still
unmeasured, infinite-seeming force may rally round it, is there
thenceforth any hope. For it is most true that all available Authority
is mystic in its conditions, and comes 'by the grace of God.'

Cheerfuller than watching the death-struggles of Royalism will it be to
watch the growth and gambollings of Sansculottism; for, in human things,
especially in human society, all death is but a death-birth: thus if the
sceptre is departing from Louis, it is only that, in other forms, other
sceptres, were it even pike-sceptres, may bear sway. In a prurient
element, rich with nutritive influences, we shall find that
Sansculottism grows lustily, and even frisks in not ungraceful sport:
as indeed most young creatures are sportful; nay, may it not be noted
further, that as the grown cat, and cat-species generally, is the
cruellest thing known, so the merriest is precisely the kitten, or
growing cat?

But fancy the Royal Family risen from its truckle-beds on the morrow
of that mad day: fancy the Municipal inquiry, "How would your Majesty
please to lodge?"--and then that the King's rough answer, "Each may
lodge as he can, I am well enough," is congeed and bowed away, in
expressive grins, by the Townhall Functionaries, with obsequious
upholsterers at their back; and how the Chateau of the Tuileries is
repainted, regarnished into a golden Royal Residence; and Lafayette with
his blue National Guards lies encompassing it, as blue Neptune (in the
language of poets) does an island, wooingly. Thither may the wrecks
of rehabilitated Loyalty gather; if it will become Constitutional; for
Constitutionalism thinks no evil; Sansculottism itself rejoices in the
King's countenance. The rubbish of a Menadic Insurrection, as in this
ever-kindly world all rubbish can and must be, is swept aside; and so
again, on clear arena, under new conditions, with something even of a
new stateliness, we begin a new course of action.

Arthur Young has witnessed the strangest scene: Majesty walking
unattended in the Tuileries Gardens; and miscellaneous tricolor crowds,
who cheer it, and reverently make way for it: the very Queen commands at
lowest respectful silence, regretful avoidance. (Arthur Young's Travels,
i. 264-280.) Simple ducks, in those royal waters, quackle for crumbs
from young royal fingers: the little Dauphin has a little railed ga