without bread, the last Prince
de Conde engulfed in the shadows, Brussels expelling the Nassaus as
Paris did the Bourbons, Belgium offering herself to a French Prince
and giving herself to an English Prince, the Russian hatred of Nicolas,
behind us the demons of the South, Ferdinand in Spain, Miguel in
Portugal, the earth quaking in Italy, Metternich extending his hand over
Bologna, France treating Austria sharply at Ancona, at the North no one
knew what sinister sound of the hammer nailing up Poland in her coffin,
irritated glances watching France narrowly all over Europe, England, a
suspected ally, ready to give a push to that which was tottering and to
hurl herself on that which should fall, the peerage sheltering itself
behind Beccaria to refuse four heads to the law, the fleurs-de-lys
erased from the King's carriage, the cross torn from Notre Dame,
Lafayette lessened, Laffitte ruined, Benjamin Constant dead in
indigence, Casimir Perier dead in the exhaustion of his power; political
and social malady breaking out simultaneously in the two capitals of the
kingdom, the one in the city of thought, the other in the city of toil;
at Paris civil war, at Lyons servile war; in the two cities, the same
glare of the furnace; a crater-like crimson on the brow of the people;
the South rendered fanatic, the West troubled, the Duchesse de Berry in
la Vendee, plots, conspiracies, risings, cholera, added the sombre roar
of tumult of events to the sombre roar of ideas.

CHAPTER V--FACTS WHENCE HISTORY SPRINGS AND WHICH HISTORY IGNORES

Towards the end of April, everything had become aggravated. The
fermentation entered the boiling state. Ever since 1830, petty partial
revolts had been going on here and there, which were quickly suppressed,
but ever bursting forth afresh, the sign of a vast underlying
conflagration. Something terrible was in preparation. Glimpses could be
caught of the features still indistinct and imperfectly lighted, of a
possible revolution. France kept an eye on Paris; Paris kept an eye on
the Faubourg Saint-Antoine.

The Faubourg Saint-Antoine, which was in a dull glow, was beginning its
ebullition.

[Illustration: A Street Orator 4b1-5-street-orator]

The wine-shops of the Rue de Charonne were, although the union of
the two epithets seems singular when applied to wine-shops, grave and
stormy.

The government was there purely and simply called in question. There
people publicly discussed the questi