erity
can adequately feed a Bastille-destroying Paris. Wherefore, on view of
the hanged Baker, Constitutionalism in sorrow and anger demands 'Loi
Martiale,' a kind of Riot Act;--and indeed gets it, most readily, almost
before the sun goes down.

This is that famed Martial law, with its Red Flag, its 'Drapeau Rouge:'
in virtue of which Mayor Bailly, or any Mayor, has but henceforth to
hang out that new Oriflamme of his; then to read or mumble something
about the King's peace; and, after certain pauses, serve any
undispersing Assemblage with musket-shot, or whatever shot will disperse
it. A decisive Law; and most just on one proviso: that all Patrollotism
be of God, and all mob-assembling be of the Devil;--otherwise not
so just. Mayor Bailly be unwilling to use it! Hang not out that new
Oriflamme, flame not of gold but of the want of gold! The thrice-blessed
Revolution is done, thou thinkest? If so it will be well with thee.

But now let no mortal say henceforth that an august National
Assembly wants riot: all it ever wanted was riot enough to balance
Court-plotting; all it now wants, of Heaven or of Earth, is to get its
theory of defective verbs perfected.

Chapter 2.1.III.

The Muster.

With famine and a Constitutional theory of defective verbs going on,
all other excitement is conceivable. A universal shaking and sifting of
French Existence this is: in the course of which, for one thing, what a
multitude of low-lying figures are sifted to the top, and set busily to
work there!

Dogleech Marat, now for-seen as Simon Stylites, we already know; him and
others, raised aloft. The mere sample, these, of what is coming, of what
continues coming, upwards from the realm of Night!--Chaumette, by and
by Anaxagoras Chaumette, one already descries: mellifluous in
street-groups; not now a sea-boy on the high and giddy mast: a
mellifluous tribune of the common people, with long curling locks,
on bourne-stone of the thoroughfares; able sub-editor too; who shall
rise--to the very gallows. Clerk Tallien, he also is become sub-editor;
shall become able editor; and more. Bibliopolic Momoro, Typographic
Pruhomme see new trades opening. Collot d'Herbois, tearing a passion
to rags, pauses on the Thespian boards; listens, with that black bushy
head, to the sound of the world's drama: shall the Mimetic become Real?
Did ye hiss him, O men of Lyons? (Buzot, Memoires (Paris, 1823), p. 90.)
Better had ye clapped!

Happy now, indeed,