ed, "Salute then, Monsieur, don't be unpolite;" and therewith
she, like a bright Sky-wanderer or Planet with her little Moon, issues
forth peculiar. (Narrative by a Lorraine Federate (given in Hist. Parl.
vi. 389-91).)

But at night, when Patriot spadework is over, figure the sacred rights
of hospitality! Lepelletier Saint-Fargeau, a mere private senator, but
with great possessions, has daily his 'hundred dinner-guests;' the table
of Generalissimo Lafayette may double that number. In lowly parlour,
as in lofty saloon, the wine-cup passes round; crowned by the smiles of
Beauty; be it of lightly-tripping Grisette, or of high-sailing Dame, for
both equally have beauty, and smiles precious to the brave.

Chapter 2.1.XII.

Sound and Smoke.

And so now, in spite of plotting Aristocrats, lazy hired spademen,
and almost of Destiny itself (for there has been much rain), the
Champ-de-Mars, on the 13th of the month is fairly ready; trimmed,
rammed, buttressed with firm masonry; and Patriotism can stroll over
it admiring; and as it were rehearsing, for in every head is some
unutterable image of the morrow. Pray Heaven there be not clouds. Nay
what far worse cloud is this, of a misguided Municipality that talks of
admitting Patriotism, to the solemnity, by tickets! Was it by tickets we
were admitted to the work; and to what brought the work? Did we take the
Bastille by tickets? A misguided Municipality sees the error; at late
midnight, rolling drums announce to Patriotism starting half out of
its bed-clothes, that it is to be ticketless. Pull down thy night-cap
therefore; and, with demi-articulate grumble, significant of several
things, go pacified to sleep again. Tomorrow is Wednesday morning;
unforgetable among the fasti of the world.

The morning comes, cold for a July one; but such a festivity would make
Greenland smile. Through every inlet of that National Amphitheatre
(for it is a league in circuit, cut with openings at due intervals),
floods-in the living throng; covers without tumult space after space.
The Ecole Militaire has galleries and overvaulting canopies, where
Carpentry and Painting have vied, for the upper Authorities; triumphal
arches, at the Gate by the River, bear inscriptions, if weak, yet
well-meant, and orthodox. Far aloft, over the Altar of the Fatherland,
on their tall crane standards of iron, swing pensile our antique
Cassolettes or pans of incense; dispensing sweet incense-fumes,--unless
for the