g over
the Book of Revelations, with an eye to Robespierre; finds that this
astonishing thrice-potent Maximilien really is the Man spoken of by
Prophets, who is to make the Earth young again. With her sit devout old
Marchionesses, ci-devant honourable women; among whom Old-Constituent
Dom Gerle, with his addle head, cannot be wanting. They sit there, in
the Rue-de-Contrescarpe; in mysterious adoration: Mumbo is Mumbo, and
Robespierre is his Prophet. A conspicuous man this Robespierre. He has
his volunteer Bodyguard of Tappe-durs, let us say Strike-sharps, fierce
Patriots with feruled sticks; and Jacobins kissing the hem of his
garment. He enjoys the admiration of many, the worship of some; and is
well worth the wonder of one and all.

The grand question and hope, however, is: Will not this Feast of the
Tuileries Mumbo-Jumbo be a sign perhaps that the Guillotine is to abate?
Far enough from that! Precisely on the second day after it, Couthon, one
of the 'three shallow scoundrels,' gets himself lifted into the Tribune;
produces a bundle of papers. Couthon proposes that, as Plots still
abound, the Law of the Suspect shall have extension, and Arrestment new
vigour and facility. Further that, as in such case business is like
to be heavy, our Revolutionary Tribunal too shall have extension; be
divided, say, into Four Tribunals, each with its President, each with
its Fouquier or Substitute of Fouquier, all labouring at once, and any
remnant of shackle or dilatory formality be struck off: in this way it
may perhaps still overtake the work. Such is Couthon's Decree of the
Twenty-second Prairial, famed in those times. At hearing of which Decree
the very Mountain gasped, awestruck; and one Ruamps ventured to say
that if it passed without adjournment and discussion, he, as one
Representative, "would blow his brains out." Vain saying! The
Incorruptible knit his brows; spoke a prophetic fateful word or two: the
Law of Prairial is Law; Ruamps glad to leave his rash brains where they
are. Death, then, and always Death! Even so. Fouquier is enlarging
his borders; making room for Batches of a Hundred and fifty at
once;--getting a Guillotine set up, of improved velocity, and to work
under cover, in the apartment close by. So that Salut itself has to
intervene, and forbid him: "Wilt thou demoralise the Guillotine," asks
Collot, reproachfully, "demoraliser le supplice!"

There is indeed danger of that; were not the Republican faith great,