porting at Versailles what he
saw, not without tears. (Mercier, ii. 81.)

Meanwhile, from all points of the compass, Federates are arriving:
fervid children of the South, 'who glory in their Mirabeau;' considerate
North-blooded Mountaineers of Jura; sharp Bretons, with their Gaelic
suddenness; Normans not to be overreached in bargain: all now animated
with one noblest fire of Patriotism. Whom the Paris brethren march forth
to receive; with military solemnities, with fraternal embracing, and
a hospitality worthy of the heroic ages. They assist at the Assembly's
Debates, these Federates: the Galleries are reserved for them. They
assist in the toils of the Champ-de-Mars; each new troop will put its
hand to the spade; lift a hod of earth on the Altar of the Fatherland.
But the flourishes of rhetoric, for it is a gesticulating People; the
moral-sublime of those Addresses to an august Assembly, to a Patriot
Restorer! Our Breton Captain of Federates kneels even, in a fit of
enthusiasm, and gives up his sword; he wet-eyed to a King wet-eyed. Poor
Louis! These, as he said afterwards, were among the bright days of his
life.

Reviews also there must be; royal Federate-reviews, with King, Queen and
tricolor Court looking on: at lowest, if, as is too common, it rains,
our Federate Volunteers will file through the inner gateways, Royalty
standing dry. Nay there, should some stop occur, the beautifullest
fingers in France may take you softly by the lapelle, and, in mild
flute-voice, ask: "Monsieur, of what Province are you?" Happy he who
can reply, chivalrously lowering his sword's point, "Madame, from
the Province your ancestors reigned over." He that happy 'Provincial
Advocate,' now Provincial Federate, shall be rewarded by a sun-smile,
and such melodious glad words addressed to a King: "Sire, these are
your faithful Lorrainers." Cheerier verily, in these holidays, is this
'skyblue faced with red' of a National Guardsman, than the dull black
and gray of a Provincial Advocate, which in workdays one was used to.
For the same thrice-blessed Lorrainer shall, this evening, stand sentry
at a Queen's door; and feel that he could die a thousand deaths for her:
then again, at the outer gate, and even a third time, she shall see him;
nay he will make her do it; presenting arms with emphasis, 'making
his musket jingle again': and in her salute there shall again be a
sun-smile, and that little blonde-locked too hasty Dauphin shall be
admonish