to Napoleon. A number of artisans installed
themselves in the chamber of the throne; they sat, each in his turn,
upon the royal seat, afterwards they placed a corpse in it. Some of them
drew, over shirts stained with blood, the court-dresses which had
circled the waist of royal princesses, and strutted about in this
masquerade. Riot and destruction as much as you please, but no
theft--such was the order of the day. A young man was bearing off a hat,
decorated with plumes of a costly description. "Where are you going,"
cried his companions, "with that hat?" "It is only a souvenir," said he
of the hat. "Ha! good; but in that case the value is nothing." So
saying, they took the hat and trampled it under their feet, and then
returned it to him--doubly valuable as a souvenir. Many striking traits
of honesty were exhibited. One man brought a vase of silver to the
prefect of police, and did not even leave his name. Another found a bag
of three thousand francs in the Louvre, and hastened with the money to
the Commune. The next day he was probably amongst the number who were
wandering about Paris without bread and without work, driven out of
employment by the commercial panic of their own glorious revolution.

A scene of a like grotesque description took place, at a later period,
on the return of the mob from Rambouillet, where they had gone in search
of the unhappy Charles X. The king had left Rambouillet before the mob
reached it, so that they had nothing to do but to return, unless any
work of demolition should invite them to stay. M. Degoussee, at that
moment the man in authority, in order to save the royal carriages from
destruction, bethought him of the expedient of offering a ride home in
them to the most violent and redoubtable of the mob. In a moment these
gilded vehicles, blazoned with the royal arms, were filled with the
lowest of the rabble, who projected their pipes and their bayonets from
the windows. These state carriages, drawn by eight horses, and driven by
silken postilions, were heaped up, inside and out, with this riotous
crew, who entered Paris in triumph, amidst the responsive jests and
shouts of the populace. Driven up to the Palais Royal, they there
descended from their splendid vehicles, and delivered them over to their
new owner. "_Tenez--voila vos voitures!_" they shouted, as they alighted
under the windows of the Duke of Orleans.

It is curious to remark the contrast between the thoughtless, reckless