splendent with
Theories, Philosophies, Sensibilities,--beautiful art, not only of
revealing Thought, but also of so beautifully hiding from us the want
of Thought! Paper is made from the rags of things that did once exist;
there are endless excellences in Paper.--What wisest Philosophe, in this
halcyon uneventful period, could prophesy that there was approaching,
big with darkness and confusion, the event of events? Hope ushers in a
Revolution,--as earthquakes are preceded by bright weather. On the
Fifth of May, fifteen years hence, old Louis will not be sending for
the Sacraments; but a new Louis, his grandson, with the whole pomp of
astonished intoxicated France, will be opening the States-General.

Dubarrydom and its D'Aiguillons are gone forever. There is a young,
still docile, well-intentioned King; a young, beautiful and bountiful,
well-intentioned Queen; and with them all France, as it were, become
young. Maupeou and his Parlement have to vanish into thick night;
respectable Magistrates, not indifferent to the Nation, were it only
for having been opponents of the Court, can descend unchained from their
'steep rocks at Croe in Combrailles' and elsewhere, and return singing
praises: the old Parlement of Paris resumes its functions. Instead of a
profligate bankrupt Abbe Terray, we have now, for Controller-General, a
virtuous philosophic Turgot, with a whole Reformed France in his
head. By whom whatsoever is wrong, in Finance or otherwise, will be
righted,--as far as possible. Is it not as if Wisdom herself were
henceforth to have seat and voice in the Council of Kings? Turgot has
taken office with the noblest plainness of speech to that effect; been
listened to with the noblest royal trustfulness. (Turgot's Letter:
Condorcet, Vie de Turgot (Oeuvres de Condorcet, t. v.), p. 67. The date
is 24th August, 1774.) It is true, as King Louis objects, "They say he
never goes to mass;" but liberal France likes him little worse for that;
liberal France answers, "The Abbe Terray always went." Philosophism
sees, for the first time, a Philosophe (or even a Philosopher) in
office: she in all things will applausively second him; neither will
light old Maurepas obstruct, if he can easily help it.

Then how 'sweet' are the manners; vice 'losing all its deformity;'
becoming decent (as established things, making regulations for
themselves, do); becoming almost a kind of 'sweet' virtue! Intelligence
so abounds; irradiated by wit and th