ter
into Nonentity: how she breeds and brings forth Three Hundred
Daughter-Societies; her rearing of them, her correspondence, her
endeavourings and continual travail: how, under an old figure,
Jacobinism shoots forth organic filaments to the utmost corners of
confused dissolved France; organising it anew:--this properly is the
grand fact of the Time.

To passionate Constitutionalism, still more to Royalism, which see all
their own Clubs fail and die, Clubbism will naturally grow to seem the
root of all evil. Nevertheless Clubbism is not death, but rather
new organisation, and life out of death: destructive, indeed, of the
remnants of the Old; but to the New important, indispensable. That man
can co-operate and hold communion with man, herein lies his miraculous
strength. In hut or hamlet, Patriotism mourns not now like voice in
the desert: it can walk to the nearest Town; and there, in the
Daughter-Society, make its ejaculation into an articulate oration, into
an action, guided forward by the Mother of Patriotism herself. All
Clubs of Constitutionalists, and such like, fail, one after another,
as shallow fountains: Jacobinism alone has gone down to the deep
subterranean lake of waters; and may, unless filled in, flow there,
copious, continual, like an Artesian well. Till the Great Deep have
drained itself up: and all be flooded and submerged, and Noah's Deluge
out-deluged!

On the other hand, Claude Fauchet, preparing mankind for a Golden Age
now apparently just at hand, has opened his Cercle Social, with clerks,
corresponding boards, and so forth; in the precincts of the Palais
Royal. It is Te-Deum Fauchet; the same who preached on Franklin's Death,
in that huge Medicean rotunda of the Halle aux bleds. He here, this
winter, by Printing-press and melodious Colloquy, spreads bruit
of himself to the utmost City-barriers. 'Ten thousand persons' of
respectability attend there; and listen to this 'Procureur-General de
la Verite, Attorney-General of Truth,' so has he dubbed himself; to his
sage Condorcet, or other eloquent coadjutor. Eloquent Attorney-General!
He blows out from him, better or worse, what crude or ripe thing he
holds: not without result to himself; for it leads to a Bishoprick,
though only a Constitutional one. Fauchet approves himself a
glib-tongued, strong-lunged, whole-hearted human individual: much
flowing matter there is, and really of the better sort, about Right,
Nature, Benevolence, Progress; which