Nismes, and that incurable
Avignon of the Pope's: a continual crackling and sputtering of riots
from the whole face of France;--testifying how electric it grows. Add
only the hard winter, the famished strikes of operatives; that continual
running-bass of Scarcity, ground-tone and basis of all other Discords!

The plan of Royalty, so far as it can be said to have any fixed plan, is
still, as ever, that of flying towards the frontiers. In very truth,
the only plan of the smallest promise for it! Fly to Bouille; bristle
yourself round with cannon, served by your 'forty-thousand undebauched
Germans:' summon the National Assembly to follow you, summon what of it
is Royalist, Constitutional, gainable by money; dissolve the rest, by
grapeshot if need be. Let Jacobinism and Revolt, with one wild wail, fly
into Infinite Space; driven by grapeshot. Thunder over France with the
cannon's mouth; commanding, not entreating, that this riot cease. And
then to rule afterwards with utmost possible Constitutionality; doing
justice, loving mercy; being Shepherd of this indigent People, not
Shearer merely, and Shepherd's-similitude! All this, if ye dare. If ye
dare not, then in Heaven's name go to sleep: other handsome alternative
seems none.

Nay, it were perhaps possible; with a man to do it. For if such
inexpressible whirlpool of Babylonish confusions (which our Era is)
cannot be stilled by man, but only by Time and men, a man may moderate
its paroxysms, may balance and sway, and keep himself unswallowed on the
top of it,--as several men and Kings in these days do. Much is possible
for a man; men will obey a man that kens and cans, and name him
reverently their Ken-ning or King. Did not Charlemagne rule? Consider
too whether he had smooth times of it; hanging 'thirty-thousand Saxons
over the Weser-Bridge,' at one dread swoop! So likewise, who knows but,
in this same distracted fanatic France, the right man may verily exist?
An olive-complexioned taciturn man; for the present, Lieutenant in the
Artillery-service, who once sat studying Mathematics at Brienne? The
same who walked in the morning to correct proof-sheets at Dole, and
enjoyed a frugal breakfast with M. Joly? Such a one is gone, whither
also famed General Paoli his friend is gone, in these very days, to
see old scenes in native Corsica, and what Democratic good can be done
there.

Royalty never executes the evasion-plan, yet never abandons it; living
in variable hope; undeci