any terrestrial Convention had ever met in
such circumstances as this National one now does. Tocsin is pealing;
Barriers shut; all Paris is on the gaze, or under arms. As many as a
Hundred Thousand under arms they count: National Force; and the Armed
Volunteers, who should have flown to the Frontiers and La Vendee; but
would not, treason being unpunished; and only flew hither and thither!
So many, steady under arms, environ the National Tuileries and Garden.
There are horse, foot, artillery, sappers with beards: the artillery
one can see with their camp-furnaces in this National Garden, heating
bullets red, and their match is lighted. Henriot in plumes rides, amid a
plumed Staff: all posts and issues are safe; reserves lie out, as far as
the Wood of Boulogne; the choicest Patriots nearest the scene. One
other circumstance we will note: that a careful Municipality, liberal
of camp-furnaces, has not forgotten provision-carts. No member of the
Sovereign need now go home to dinner; but can keep rank,--plentiful
victual circulating unsought. Does not this People understand
Insurrection? Ye, not uninventive, Gualches!--

Therefore let a National Representation, 'mandatories of the Sovereign,'
take thought of it. Expulsion of your Twenty-two, and your Commission of
Twelve: we stand here till it be done! Deputation after Deputation,
in ever stronger language, comes with that message. Barrere proposes
a middle course:--Will not perhaps the inculpated Deputies consent to
withdraw voluntarily; to make a generous demission, and self-sacrifice
for the sake of one's country? Isnard, repentant of that search on which
river-bank Paris stood, declares himself ready to demit. Ready also
is Te-Deum Fauchet; old Dusaulx of the Bastille, 'vieux radoteur,
old dotard,' as Marat calls him, is still readier. On the contrary,
Lanjuinais the Breton declares that there is one man who never will
demit voluntarily; but will protest to the uttermost, while a voice is
left him. And he accordingly goes on protesting; amid rage and clangor;
Legendre crying at last: "Lanjuinais, come down from the Tribune, or I
will fling thee down, ou je te jette en bas!" For matters are come
to extremity. Nay they do clutch hold of Lanjuinais, certain zealous
Mountain-men; but cannot fling him down, for he 'cramps himself on the
railing;' and 'his clothes get torn.' Brave Senator, worthy of pity!
Neither will Barbaroux demit; he "has sworn to die at his post, and
will