p. 60.) In Palais-Royal
and all public places, as we read, there is sharp activity; private
individuals haranguing that Valour may enlist; haranguing that the
Executive may be put in action. Royalist journals ought to be solemnly
burnt: argument thereupon; debates which generally end in single-stick,
coups de cannes. (Newspapers, Narratives and Documents Hist. Parl.
xv. 240; xvi. 399.) Or think of this; the hour midnight; place Salle de
Manege; august Assembly just adjourning: 'Citizens of both sexes
enter in a rush exclaiming, Vengeance: they are poisoning our
Brothers;'--baking brayed-glass among their bread at Soissons! Vergniaud
has to speak soothing words, How Commissioners are already sent to
investigate this brayed-glass, and do what is needful therein: till the
rush of Citizens 'makes profound silence:' and goes home to its bed.

Such is Paris; the heart of a France like to it. Preternatural
suspicion, doubt, disquietude, nameless anticipation, from shore to
shore:--and those blackbrowed Marseillese, marching, dusty, unwearied,
through the midst of it; not doubtful they. Marching to the grim music
of their hearts, they consume continually the long road, these three
weeks and more; heralded by Terror and Rumour. The Brest Federes arrive
on the 26th; through hurrahing streets. Determined men are these also,
bearing or not bearing the Sacred Pikes of Chateau-Vieux; and on the
whole decidedly disinclined for Soissons as yet. Surely the Marseillese
Brethren do draw nigher all days.

Chapter 2.6.V.

At Dinner.

It was a bright day for Charenton, that 29th of the month, when the
Marseillese Brethren actually came in sight. Barbaroux, Santerre and
Patriots have gone out to meet the grim Wayfarers. Patriot clasps dusty
Patriot to his bosom; there is footwashing and refection: 'dinner of
twelve hundred covers at the Blue Dial, Cadran Bleu;' and deep
interior consultation, that one wots not of. (Deux Amis, viii. 90-101.)
Consultation indeed which comes to little; for Santerre, with an open
purse, with a loud voice, has almost no head. Here however we repose
this night: on the morrow is public entry into Paris.

On which public entry the Day-Historians, Diurnalists, or Journalists
as they call themselves, have preserved record enough. How Saint-Antoine
male and female, and Paris generally, gave brotherly welcome, with bravo
and hand-clapping, in crowded streets; and all passed in the peaceablest
manner;--except i