mphant populace
be satisfied merely with a change of ministry? Might it not demand
the overthrow of a dynasty? If so, what government would succeed?
There were Legitimists, and Orleanists, and Imperialists, and
moderate Republicans, and Socialists of every grade of ultra
Democracy. Was France to be plunged into anarchy by the conflict of
these rival parties? While the unreflecting populace drank, and sang,
and danced, and hugged each other in exultant joy, thoughtful men
paused, pondered, and turned pale with apprehension.

The ardent revolutionists began now to organize in bands in different
parts of the city. Three large bodies were speedily gathered; one in
front of the office of the _Reform_, another before that of the
_Nationale_, and a third in the Place de la Bastile. These three
columns, led by such men, born to command, as ever emerge from the
populace in scenes of excitement, paraded the illuminated streets,
with songs and shouts and flaming torches, until they formed a
junction in the Boulevard des Italiens. It was manifest that some
secret but superior intelligence guided their movements. The Hotel of
Foreign Affairs, then the residence of M. Guizot, was in the Rue de
Choiseul. At the head of that street a well-armed detachment broke
off from one of the processions, and, bearing with them the blood-red
flag of insurrection, advanced to surround the hotel.

A royal guard had been stationed here, consisting of a battalion of
the line. The troops were drawn up across the street, presenting a
rampart of bayonets to prevent the farther advance of the column.
Here the insurgents halted, face to face with the troops, almost near
enough to cross bayonets. The leader of this column is thus
graphically pictured by Lamartine:

"A man about forty years of age, tall, thin, with hair curled
and falling on his shoulders, dressed in a white frock, well
worn and stained with dirt, marched, with a military step, at
their head. His arms were folded over his chest, his head
slightly bent forward with the air of one who was about to
face bullets deliberately, and to brave death with
exultation. In the eyes of this man, well known by the
multitude, was concentrated all the fire of the Revolution.
The physiognomy was the living expression of the defiance of
opposing force. His lips, incessantly agitated, as if by a
mental harangue, were pale and trembling. We are told that
his n