ere are all
sheeted with variegated fire, shedding far a glimmer into the dubious
wood. There, under the free sky, do tight-limbed Federates, with fairest
newfound sweethearts, elastic as Diana, and not of that coyness and tart
humour of Diana, thread their jocund mazes, all through the ambrosial
night; and hearts were touched and fired; and seldom surely had our old
Planet, in that huge conic Shadow of hers 'which goes beyond the Moon,
and is named Night,' curtained such a Ball-room. O if, according to
Seneca, the very gods look down on a good man struggling with adversity,
and smile; what must they think of Five-and-twenty million indifferent
ones victorious over it,--for eight days and more?

In this way, and in such ways, however, has the Feast of Pikes danced
itself off; gallant Federates wending homewards, towards every point of
the compass, with feverish nerves, heart and head much heated; some
of them, indeed, as Dampmartin's elderly respectable friend, from
Strasbourg, quite 'burnt out with liquors,' and flickering towards
extinction. (Dampmartin, Evenemens, i. 144-184.) The Feast of Pikes
has danced itself off, and become defunct, and the ghost of a
Feast;--nothing of it now remaining but this vision in men's memory; and
the place that knew it (for the slope of that Champ-de-Mars is crumbled
to half the original height (Dulaure, Histoire de Paris, viii. 25).)
now knowing it no more. Undoubtedly one of the memorablest National
Hightides. Never or hardly ever, as we said, was Oath sworn with such
heart-effusion, emphasis and expenditure of joyance; and then it was
broken irremediably within year and day. Ah, why? When the swearing of
it was so heavenly-joyful, bosom clasped to bosom, and Five-and-twenty
million hearts all burning together: O ye inexorable Destinies,
why?--Partly because it was sworn with such over-joyance; but chiefly,
indeed, for an older reason: that Sin had come into the world and Misery
by Sin! These Five-and-twenty millions, if we will consider it, have
now henceforth, with that Phrygian Cap of theirs, no force over them, to
bind and guide; neither in them, more than heretofore, is guiding force,
or rule of just living: how then, while they all go rushing at such a
pace, on unknown ways, with no bridle, towards no aim, can hurlyburly
unutterable fail? For verily not Federation-rosepink is the colour of
this Earth and her work: not by outbursts of noble-sentiment, but with
far other ammuniti