. 73.) Tenth of
August, immortal Anniversary, greater almost than Bastille July, is the
Day.

Painter David has not been idle. Thanks to David and the French genius,
there steps forth into the sunlight, this day, a Scenic Phantasmagory
unexampled:--whereof History, so occupied with Real-Phantasmagories,
will say but little.

For one thing, History can notice with satisfaction, on the ruins of
the Bastille, a Statue of Nature; gigantic, spouting water from her two
mammelles. Not a Dream this; but a Fact, palpable visible. There she
spouts, great Nature; dim, before daybreak. But as the coming Sun
ruddies the East, come countless Multitudes, regulated and unregulated;
come Departmental Deputies, come Mother Society and Daughters; comes
National Convention, led on by handsome Herault; soft wind-music
breathing note of expectation. Lo, as great Sol scatters his first
fire-handful, tipping the hills and chimney-heads with gold, Herault is
at great Nature's feet (she is Plaster of Paris merely); Herault lifts,
in an iron saucer, water spouted from the sacred breasts; drinks of
it, with an eloquent Pagan Prayer, beginning, "O Nature!" and all the
Departmental Deputies drink, each with what best suitable ejaculation or
prophetic-utterance is in him;--amid breathings, which become blasts,
of wind-music; and the roar of artillery and human throats: finishing
well the first act of this solemnity.

Next are processionings along the Boulevards: Deputies or Officials
bound together by long indivisible tricolor riband; general 'members
of the Sovereign' walking pellmell, with pikes, with hammers, with the
tools and emblems of their crafts; among which we notice a Plough,
and ancient Baucis and Philemon seated on it, drawn by their children.
Many-voiced harmony and dissonance filling the air. Through Triumphal
Arches enough: at the basis of the first of which, we descry--whom
thinkest thou?--the Heroines of the Insurrection of Women. Strong Dames
of the Market, they sit there (Theroigne too ill to attend, one fears),
with oak-branches, tricolor bedizenment; firm-seated on their Cannons.
To whom handsome Herault, making pause of admiration, addresses soothing
eloquence; whereupon they rise and fall into the march.

And now mark, in the Place de la Revolution, what other August Statue
may this be; veiled in canvas,--which swiftly we shear off by pulley and
cord? The Statue of Liberty! She too is of plaster, hoping to become of
metal