being in Limbo now, as one of Duperret's
Seventy-three, 'several Members, quitting their curule chairs, took the
hand of girls flaunting in Priest's vestures, and danced the Carmagnole
along with them.' Such Old-Hallow-tide have they, in this year, once
named of Grace, 1793.

Out of which strange fall of Formulas, tumbling there in confused
welter, betrampled by the Patriotic dance, is it not passing strange to
see a new Formula arise? For the human tongue is not adequate to
speak what 'triviality run distracted' there is in human nature. Black
Mumbo-Jumbo of the woods, and most Indian Wau-waus, one can understand:
but this of Procureur Anaxagoras whilom John-Peter Chaumette? We
will say only: Man is a born idol-worshipper, sight-worshipper, so
sensuous-imaginative is he; and also partakes much of the nature of the
ape.

For the same day, while this brave Carmagnole dance has hardly jigged
itself out, there arrive Procureur Chaumette and Municipals and
Departmentals, and with them the strangest freightage: a New Religion!
Demoiselle Candeille, of the Opera; a woman fair to look upon, when well
rouged: she, borne on palanquin shoulder-high; with red woolen nightcap;
in azure mantle; garlanded with oak; holding in her hand the Pike of
the Jupiter-Peuple, sails in; heralded by white young women girt in
tricolor. Let the world consider it! This, O National Convention wonder
of the universe, is our New Divinity; Goddess of Reason, worthy, and
alone worthy of revering. Nay, were it too much to ask of an august
National Representation that it also went with us to the ci-devant
Cathedral called of Notre-Dame, and executed a few strophes in worship
of her?

President and Secretaries give Goddess Candeille, borne at due height
round their platform, successively the fraternal kiss; whereupon she, by
decree, sails to the right-hand of the President and there alights.
And now, after due pause and flourishes of oratory, the Convention,
gathering its limbs, does get under way in the required procession
towards Notre-Dame;--Reason, again in her litter, sitting in the van
of them, borne, as one judges, by men in the Roman costume; escorted
by wind-music, red nightcaps, and the madness of the world. And so
straightway, Reason taking seat on the high-altar of Notre-Dame, the
requisite worship or quasi-worship is, say the Newspapers, executed;
National Convention chanting 'the Hymn to Liberty, words by Chenier,
music by Gossec.' It is