nctual to announce it even to the
Dauphin's dead body: "Monseigneur, a Deputation of the States-General!"
(Montgaillard, ii. 38.) Sunt lachrymae rerum.

But what does the Oeil-de-Boeuf, now when De Breze shivers back thither?
Despatch that same force of bayonets? Not so: the seas of people still
hang multitudinous, intent on what is passing; nay rush and roll,
loud-billowing, into the Courts of the Chateau itself; for a report
has risen that Necker is to be dismissed. Worst of all, the Gardes
Francaises seem indisposed to act: 'two Companies of them do not fire
when ordered!' (Histoire Parlementaire, ii. 26.) Necker, for not being
at the Seance, shall be shouted for, carried home in triumph; and must
not be dismissed. His Grace of Paris, on the other hand, has to fly
with broken coach-panels, and owe his life to furious driving. The
Gardes-du-Corps (Body-Guards), which you were drawing out, had better be
drawn in again. (Bailly, i. 217.) There is no sending of bayonets to be
thought of.

Instead of soldiers, the Oeil-de-Boeuf sends--carpenters, to take down
the platform. Ineffectual shift! In few instants, the very carpenters
cease wrenching and knocking at their platform; stand on it, hammer in
hand, and listen open-mouthed. (Histoire Parlementaire, ii. 23.) The
Third Estate is decreeing that it is, was, and will be, nothing but a
National Assembly; and now, moreover, an inviolable one, all members of
it inviolable: 'infamous, traitorous, towards the Nation, and guilty
of capital crime, is any person, body-corporate, tribunal, court or
commission that now or henceforth, during the present session or after
it, shall dare to pursue, interrogate, arrest, or cause to be arrested,
detain or cause to be detained, any,' &c. &c. 'on whose part soever the
same be commanded.' (Montgaillard, ii. 47.) Which done, one can wind up
with this comfortable reflection from Abbe Sieyes: "Messieurs, you are
today what you were yesterday."

Courtiers may shriek; but it is, and remains, even so. Their
well-charged explosion has exploded through the touch-hole; covering
themselves with scorches, confusion, and unseemly soot! Poor
Triumvirate, poor Queen; and above all, poor Queen's Husband, who means
well, had he any fixed meaning! Folly is that wisdom which is wise only
behindhand. Few months ago these Thirty-five Concessions had filled
France with a rejoicing, which might have lasted for several years. Now
it is unavailing, the very ment