e was erect and easy,
almost commanding. It is five years, all but a few days, since Philippe,
within these same stone walls, stood up with an air of graciosity, and
asked King Louis, "Whether it was a Royal Session, then, or a Bed of
Justice?" O Heaven!--Three poor blackguards were to ride and die with
him: some say, they objected to such company, and had to be flung in,
neck and heels; (Foster, ii. 628; Montgaillard, iv. 141-57.) but it
seems not true. Objecting or not objecting, the gallows-vehicle gets
under way. Philippe's dress is remarked for its elegance; greenfrock,
waistcoat of white pique, yellow buckskins, boots clear as Warren:
his air, as before, entirely composed, impassive, not to say easy
and Brummellean-polite. Through street after street; slowly, amid
execrations;--past the Palais Egalite whilom Palais-Royal! The cruel
Populace stopped him there, some minutes: Dame de Buffon, it is said,
looked out on him, in Jezebel head-tire; along the ashlar Wall, there
ran these words in huge tricolor print, REPUBLIC ONE AND INDIVISIBLE;
LIBERTY, EQUALITY, FRATERNITY OR DEATH: National Property. Philippe's
eyes flashed hellfire, one instant; but the next instant it was gone,
and he sat impassive, Brummellean-polite. On the scaffold, Samson was
for drawing of his boots: "tush," said Philippe, "they will come better
off after; let us have done, depechons-nous!"

So Philippe was not without virtue, then? God forbid that there should
be any living man without it! He had the virtue to keep living for
five-and-forty years;--other virtues perhaps more than we know of.
Probably no mortal ever had such things recorded of him: such facts, and
also such lies. For he was a Jacobin Prince of the Blood; consider what
a combination! Also, unlike any Nero, any Borgia, he lived in the Age of
Pamphlets. Enough for us: Chaos has reabsorbed him; may it late or never
bear his like again!--Brave young Orleans Egalite, deprived of all, only
not deprived of himself, is gone to Coire in the Grisons, under the name
of Corby, to teach Mathematics. The Egalite Family is at the darkest
depths of the Nadir.

A far nobler Victim follows; one who will claim remembrance from several
centuries: Jeanne-Marie Phlipon, the Wife of Roland. Queenly, sublime
in her uncomplaining sorrow, seemed she to Riouffe in her Prison.
'Something more than is usually found in the looks of women painted
itself,' says Riouffe, (Memoires, Sur les Prisons, i., pp. 55-7