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of Life, which you might beat with Cyclops' | Catholic countries will free a soul out of purhammers, (and, alas, not beat the dross out of,) gatory, Mirabeau is once more delivered from was not in Europe at that time. Call him not the strong place: not into his own home, the strongest man then living; for light, as we (home, wife, and the whole Past are far parted said, and not fire, is the strong thing; yet call from him;) not into his father's home; but him strong too, very strong; and for tough-forth;—hurled forth, to seek his fortune Ishness, tenacity, vivaciousness, and a fond gail- mael-like in the wide hunting-field of the world. lard, call him toughest of all. Raging pas- Consider him, O Reader; thou wilt find him sions, ill-governed; reckless tumult from very notable. A disgraced man, not a broken within, merciless oppression from without: one; ruined outwardly, not ruined inwardly; ten men might have died of what this Gabriel not yet, for there is no ruining of him on that Honoré did not yet die of. Police-captain side. Such a buoyancy of radical fire and Lenoir allowed him, in mercy and according fond gaillard he has; with his dignity and to engagement, to correspond with Sophie; vanity, levity, solidity, with his virtues and his the condition was that the letters should be vices,-what a front he shows! You would seen by Lenoir, and be returned into his keep- say, he bates not a jot, in these sad circuming. Mirabeau corresponded; in fire and tears, stances, of what he claimed from Fortune, but copiously, not Werter-like, but Mirabeau-like. rather enlarges it: his proud soul, so galled, Then he had penitential petitions, Pater-Pec-deformed by manacles and bondage, flings cavis to write, to get presented and enforced; away its prison-gear, bounds forth to the fight for which end all manner of friends must be again, as if victory, after all, were certain. urged: correspondence enough. Besides, he Post-horses to Pontarlier and the Besançon could read, though very limitedly: he could Parlement; that that "sentence by contueven compose or compile; extracting, not in macy" be annulled, and the Paper Effigy have the manner of the bee, from the very Bible its Head stuck on again! The wild giant, and Dom Calmet, a Biblion Eroticon, which can said to be "absent by contumacy," sits volunbe recommended to no woman or man. The tarily in the Pontarlier Jail; thunders in pleadpious Fils Adoptif drops a veil over his face ings which make Parlementeers quake, and at this scandal; and says lamentably that there all France listen; and the Head reunites itis nothing to be said. As for Correspondence self to the Paper Effigy with apologies. Monwith Sophie, it lay in Lenoir's desk forgotten; nier and the De Ruffeys know who is the most but was found there by Manuel, Procureur of impudent man alive: the world with astonishthe Commune in 1792, when so many desks ment, who is one of the ablest. Even the old flew open; and by him given to the world. A Marquis snuffles approval, though with qualibook which fair sensibility (rather in a private fication. Tough old Man, he has lost his own way) loves to weep over: not this reviewer, world-famous Lawsuit and other lawsuits, with to any considerable extent; not at all here, in ruinous expenses; has seen his fortune and his present strait for room. Good love-letters projects fail, and even lettres de cachet turn out of their kind notwithstanding. But if any not always satisfactory or sanatory; wherething can swell farther the tears of fair sensi-fore he summons his children about him; and, bility over Mirabeau's "Correspondence of Vin- really in a very serene way, declares himself cennes," it must be this: the issue it ended in. invalided, fit only for the chimney-nook now; After a space of years these two lovers, to sit patching his old mind together again, wrenched asunder in Holland, and allowed to (à rebouter sa tête, à se recoudre pièce à pièce:) correspond that they might not poison them-advice and countenance they, the deserving selves, met again: it was under cloud of part of them, shall always enjoy; but lettres de night; in Sophie's apartment, in the country; cachet, or other the like benefit and guidance, Mirabeau, disguised as a porter," had come not any more. Right so, thou best of old thither from a considerable distance. And Marquises! There he rests then, like the still they flew into each other's arms; to weep evening of a thundery day; thunders no more; their child dead, their long unspeakable woes? but rays forth many a curiously-tinted lightNot at all. They stood, arms stretched ora- beam and remark on life; serene to the last. torically, calling one another to account for Among Mirabeau's small catalogue of virtues, causes of jealousy; grew always louder, arms (very small of formulary and conventional set a-kimbo; and parted quite loud, never to virtues,) let it not be forgotten that he loved meet more on earth. In September, 1789, this old father warmly to the end; and forgave Mirabeau had risen to be a world's wonder: his cruelties, or forgot them in kind interpreand Sophie, far from him, had sunk out of the tation of them. world's sight, respected only in the little town For the Pontarlier paper effigy, therefore, it of Gien. On the 9th night of September, Mira- is well: and yet a man lives not comfortably beau might be thundering in the Versailles without money. Ah, were one's marriage not Salle des Menus, to be reported of all Journals disrupted; for the old father-in-law wii soon on the morrow; and Sophie, twice disap- die; those rich expectations were then fruitions! pointed of new marriage, the sad-heroic tem-The ablest, not the most shame-faced man in per darkened now into perfect black, was re- France, is off, next spring (1783,) to Aix; stirclining, self-tied to her sofa, with a pan of ring Parlement and Heaven and Earth there, charcoal burning near; to die as the unhappy to have his wife back. How he worked; with die. Said we not, "the course of true love what nobleness and courage, (according to never did run smooth ?" the Fils Adoptif:) giant's work! The sound of him is spread over France and over the world; English travellers (high foreign lord
However, after two-and-forty months, and negotiations, and more intercessions than in
ships) turning aside to Aix; and "multitudes | thunder-riven, but broad-based, rooted in the gathered even on the roofs" to hear him, the Earth's (in Nature's) own rocks; and will not Court-house being crammed to bursting! De- tumble prostrate! So true is it what a moralist mosthenic fire and pathos; penitent husband has said: "One could not wish any man to calling for forgiveness and restitution:-" ce fall into a fault; yet is it often precisely after n'est qu'un claque-dents et un fol," rays forth the old a fault, or a crime even, that the morality Marquis from the chimney-nook: "a chatter- which is in a man first unfolds itself, and what teeth and madman?" The world and Parle- of strength he as a man possesses, now when ment thought not that; knew not what to think, all else is gone from him.” if not that this was the questionablest able man they had ever heard; and, alas, still farther, that his cause was untenable. No wife then; and no money! From this second attack on Fortune, Mirabeau returns foiled, and worse than before; resourceless, for now the old Marquis, too, again eyes him askance. He must hunt Ishmael-like, as we said. Whatsoever of wit or strength he has within himself will stand true to him; on that he can count; unfortunately on almost nothing but that.
Mirabeau's life for the next five years, which creeps troublous, obscure, through several of these Eight Volumes, will probably, in the One right Volume which they hold imprisoned, be delineated briefly. It is the long-drawn practical improvement of the sermon already preached in Rhé, in If, in Joux, in Holland, in Vincennes, and elsewhere. A giant man in the flower of his years, in the winter of his prospects, has to see how he will reconcile these two contradictions. With giant energies and talents, with giant virtues even, he, burning to unfold himself, has got put into his hands, for implements and means to do it with, disgrace, contumely, obstruction; character elevated only as Haman was; purse full only of debt-summonses; household, home, and possessions, as it were, sown with salt; Ruin's plough-share furrowing too deeply himself and all that was his. Under these, and not under other conditions, shall this man now live and struggle. Well might he "weep" long afterwards, (though not given to the melting mood,) thinking over, with Dumont, how his life had been blasted, by himself, by others; and was now so defaced and thunder-riven, no glory could make it whole again. Truly, as we often say, a weaker, and yet very strong man, might have died,—by hypochondria, by brandy, or by arsenic but Mirabeau did not die. The world is not his friend, nor the world's law and formula? It will be his enemy then; his conqueror and master not altogether. There are strong men who can, in case of necessity, make way with formulas, (humer les formules,) and yet find a habitation behind them: these are the very strong; and Mirabeau was of these. The world's esteem having gone quite against him, and most circles of society, with their codes and regulations, pronouncing little but anathema on him, he is nevertheless not lost; he does not sink to desperation; not to dishonesty, or pusillanimity, or splenetic aridity. Nowise! In spite of the world, he is a living strong man there: the world cannot take from him his just consciousness of himself, his warm open-hearted feeling towards others; there are still limits, on all sides, to which the world and the devil cannot drive him. The giant, we say! How he stands, like a mountain;
Mirabeau, through these dim years, is seen wandering from place to place; in France, Germany, Holland, England; finding no rest for the sole of his foot. It is a life of shifts and expedients, au jour le jour. Extravagant in his expenses, thriftless, swimming in a welter of debts and difficulties; for which he has to provide by fierce industry; by skill in financiership. The man's revenne is his wits; he has a pen and a head; and, happily for him, "is the demon of the impossible." At no time is he without some blazing project or other, which shall warm and illuminate far and wide; which too often blazes out ineffectual; which in that case he replaces and renews, for his hope is inexhaustible. He writes pamphlets unweariedly as a steam-engine: On the Opening of the Scheldt, and Kaiser Joseph: On the Order of Cincinnatus and Washington: on Count Cagliostro, and the Diamond Necklace. Innumerable are the helpers and journeymen (respectable Mauvillons, respectable Dumonts) whom he can set working for him on such matters; it is a gift he has. He writes Books, in as many as eight volumes, which are properly only a larger kind of Pamphlets. He has polemics with Caron Beaumarchais on the water-company of Paris; lean Caron shooting sharp arrows into him, which he responds to demoniacally, "flinging hills with all their woods." He is intimate with many men; his "terrible gift of familiarty," his joyous courtiership and faculty of pleasing, do not forsake him: but it is a questionable intimacy, granted to the man's talents, in spite of his character: a relation which the proud Riquetti, not the humbler that he is poor and ruined, correctly feels. With still more women is he intimate; girt with a whole system of intrigues, in that sort, wherever he abide; seldom travelling without a-wife (let us call her) engaged by the year, or during mutual satisfaction. On this large department of Mirabeau's history, what can you say, except that his incontinence was great, enormous, entirely indefersible! If any one please (which we do not) to be present, with the Fils Adop'if, at "the autopsie," and post-mortem examination, he will see curious documents on this head; and to what depths of penalty Nature, in her just self-viudication, can sometimes doom men. The Fils Adoplif is very sorry. To the kind called unfortunatefemales, it would seem, nevertheless, this unfortunate-male had an aversion amounting to complete nolo-tangere.
The old Marquis sits apart in the chimneynook, observant: what this roaming, unresting, rebellious Titan of a Count may ever prove of use for? If it be not, O Marquis, for the general Overturn, Culbute Générale? He is swallowing Formulas; getting endless acquaintance with the Realities of things and
draws towards completion, and it becomes ever more evident to Mirabeau that great things are in the wind, we find his wanderings, as it were, quicken. Suddenly emerging out of Night and Cimmeria, he dashes down on the Paris world, time after time; flashes into it with that fire-glance of his; discerns that the time is not yet come; and then merges back again. Occasionally his pamphlets provoke a fulmination and order of arrest, wherefore he must merge the faster. Nay, your Calonne is good enough to signify it beforehand: On such and such a day shall order you to be arrested; pray make speed therefore. When the Notables meet, in the spring of 1787, Mirabeau spreads his pinions, alights on Paris and Versailles; it seems to him he ought to be secretary of those Notables. No! friend Dupont de Nemours gets it: the time is not yet come. It is still but the time of
Generally, on first making personal acquaintance with Mirabeau as a writer or speaker, one is not a little surprised. Instead of Irish oratory, with tropes and declamatory fervid feeling, such as the rumour one has heard gives prospect of, you are astonished to meet a certain hard angular distinctness, a totally unornamented force and massiveness: clear perspicuity, strong perspicacity, conviction that wishes to convince,-this beyond all things, and instead of all things. You would say the primary character of those utterances, nay, of the man himself, is sincerity and insight; strength, and the honest use of strength. Which, indeed, it is, O Reader! Mirabeau's spiritual gift will be found on examination to be verily an honest and a great one; far the strongest, best practical intellect of that time; entitled to rank among the strong of all times. These books of his ought to be riddled, like this book of the Fils Adoptif. There is precious matter in them; too good to lie hidden among shot rubbish. Hear this man on any subject, you will find him worth considering. He has words in him, rough deliverances; "What have I done that was so criminal? such as men do not forget. As thus: "I know I have wished that my Order were wise enough but three ways of living in this world: by to give to-day what will infallibly be wrested wages for work; by begging; thirdly, by from it to-morrow; that it should receive the stealing, (so named, or not so named.)" Again: merits and glory of sanctioning the assemblage "Malebranche saw all things in God; and M. of the Three Orders, which all Provence loudly Necker sees all things in Necker!" There demands. This is the crime of your enemy are nicknames of Mirabeau's worth whole of peace!' Or rather I have ventured to betreatises. “Grandison-Cromwell Lafayette:"lieve that the people might be in the right, write a volume on the man, as many volumes Ah, doubtless, a patrician soiled with such a have been written, and try to say more! It is thought deserves vengeance! But I am still the best likeness yet drawn of him,-by a guiltier than you think; for it is my belief that flourish and two dots. Of such inexpressible the people which complains is always in the advantage is it that a man have "an eye, in- right; that its indefatigable patience invariably stead of a pair of spectacles merely;" that, waits the uttermost excesses of oppression, seeing through the formulas of things, and before it can determine on resisting; that it even "making away" with many a formula, never resists long enough to obtain complete he sees into the thing itself, and so know it redress; and does not sufficiently know that to and be master of it! strike its enemies into terror and submission, it has only to stand still, that the most innocent as the most invincible of all powers is
Crispin-Catiline" d'Espréménil, and other such animal-magnetic persons. Nevertheless, the Reverend Talleyrand, judicious Dukes, liberal noble friends not a few, are sure that the time will come. Abide thy time. Hark! On the 27th of December, 1788, here finally is the long-expected announcing itself: royal Proclamation definitively convoking the States-General for May next! Need we ask whether Mirabeau bestirs himself now; whether or not he is off to Provence, to the Assembly of Noblesse there, with all his faculties screwed to the sticking-place? One strong dead-lift pull, thou Titan; and perhaps thou carriest it! How Mirabeau wrestled and strove under these auspices; speaking and contending all day, writing pamphlets, paragraphs, all night; also suffering much, gathering his wild soul together, motionless under reproaches, under drawn swords even, lest his enemies throw him off his guard; how he agitates and represses, unerringly dexterous, sleeplessly unwearied, and is a "demon of the impossible," let all readers fancy. With "a body of Noblesse more ignorant, greedier, more insolent than any I have ever seen," the Swallower of Formulas was like to have rough work. We must give his celebrated flinging up of the handful of dust, when they drove him out by overwhelming majority:—
men: in audacity, in recklessness, he will not, it is like, be wanting. The old Marquis rays out curious observations on life;-yields no effectual assistance of money.
Ministries change and shift; but never, in the new deal, does there turn up a good card for Mirabeau. Necker he does not love, nor is love lost between them. Plausible Calonne hears him Stentor-like denouncing stock-jobbing, (Denonciation de l'Agiotage:) communes with him, corresponds with him; is glad to get him sent, in some semi-ostensible or spydiplomatist character, to Berlin; in any way to have him sopped and quieted. The Great Frederic was still on the scene, though now very near the side-scenes: the wiry thin Drillserjeant of the World, and the broad burly Mutineer of the World, glanced into one another with amazement; the one making entrance, the other making exit. To this Berlin business we owe pamphlets; we owe Correspondences, ("surreptitiously published"-with consent;) we owe (brave Major Mauvillon serving as hodman) the Monarchie Prussienne, a Pamphlet in some eight octavo Volumes, portions of which are still well worth reading.
As the years roll on, and that portentous decade of the Eighties (or "Era of Hope")
the power of refusing to do. I believe after this manner: punish the enemy of peace!
"But you, ministers of a God of peace, who are ordained to bless and not to curse, and yet have launched your anathema on me, without even the attempt at enlightening me, at reasoning with me! And you, 'friends of peace,' who denounce to the people, with all vehemence of hatred, the one defender it has yet found, out of its own ranks;-who, to bring about concord, are filling capital and province with placards calculated to arm the rural districts against the towns, if your deeds did not refute your writings;-who, to prepare ways of conciliation, protest against the royal Regulation for convoking the States-General, because it grants the people as many deputies as both the other orders, and against all that the coming National Assembly shall do, unless its laws secure the triumph of your pretensions, the eternity of your privileges! Disinterested 'friends of peace! I have appealed to your honour, and summon you to state what expressions of mine have offended against either the respect we owe to the royal authority or to the nation's right? Nobles of Provence, Europe is attentive; weigh well your answer. Men of God, beware; God hears you!
"And if you do not answer, but keep silence, shutting yourselves up in the vague declamations you have hurled at me, then allow me to add one word.
der, and sigh forgotten by him. For this Mirabeau too the career at last opens.
At last! Does not the benevolent Reader, though never so unambitious, sympathize a little with this poor brother mortal in such a case? Victory is always joyful; but to think of such a man, in the hour when, after twelve Hercules' Labours, he does finally triumph! So long he fought with the many-headed coil of Lernean serpents; and, panting, wrestled and wrang with it for life or death, forty long stern years; and now he has it under his heel! The mountain tops are scaled, are scaled; where the man climbed, on sharp flinty precipices, slippery, abysmal; in darkness, seen by no kind eye,-amid the brood of dragons; and the heart, many times, was like to fail within him, in his loneliness, in his extreme need: yet he climbed, and climbed, glueing his footsteps in his blood; and now, behold, Hyperion-like he has scaled it, and on the summit shakes his glittering shafts of war! What a scene and new kingdom for him; all bathed in auroral radiance of Hope; farstretching, solemn, joyful: what wild Memnon's music, from the depths of Nature, comes toning through the soul raised suddenly out of strangling death into victory and life! The very bystander, we think, might weep, with this Mirabeau, tears of joy.
"In all countries, in all times, aristocrats have implacably persecuted the people's friends; and if, by some singular combination of fortune, there chanced to arise such a one in their own circle, it was he above all whom they struck at, eager to inspire wider terror by the elevation of their victim. Thus perished the last of the Gracchi by the hands of the patricians; but, being struck with the mortal stab, he flung dust towards Heaven, and called on the Avenging Deities; and from this dust sprang Marius,-Marius not so illustrious for exterminating the Cimbri as for overturning in Rome the tyranny of the Noblesse!"
Which, alas, will become tears of sorrow! For know, O Son of Adam, (and Son of Lucifer, with that accursed ambition of thine,) that they are all a delusion and piece of demonic necromancy, these same auroral splendours, enchantments and Memnon's tones! The thing thou as mortal wantest is equilibrium, (what is called rest or peace;) which, God knows, thou wilt never get so. Happy they that find it without such searching. But in some twenty-three months more, of blazing solar splendour and conflagration, this Mirabeau will be ashes; and lie opaque, in the Pantheon of great men (or say, French-Pantheon of considerable, or even of considered, and small-noisy men,)—at rest nowhere, save There goes some foolish story of Mirabeau on the lap of his mother earth. There are to having now opened a cloth-shop in Marseilles, whom the gods, in their bounty, give glory: to ingratiate himself with the Third Estate; but far oftener it is given in wrath, as a curse whereat we have often laughed. The image and a poison; disturbing the whole inner of Mirabeau measuring out drapery to man-health and industry of the man; leading onkind, and deftly snipping at tailors' measures, ward through dizzy staggerings and tarantula has something pleasant for the mind. So, that jiggings, towards no saint's shrine. Truly, though there is not a shadow of truth in this if Death did not intervene; or still more hapstory, the very lie may justly sustain itself for pily, if Life and the Public were not a blocka while, in the character of lie. Far other-head, and sudden unreasonable oblivion were wise was the reality there: "voluntary guard not to follow that sudden unreasonable glory, of a hundred men;" Provence crowding by and beneficently, though most painfully, damp the ten thousand round his chariot wheels; it down,-one sees not where many a poor explosions of rejoicing musketry, heaven-glorious man, still more many a poor glorious rending acclamation; "people paying two woman, (for it falls harder on the distinlouis for a place at the window!" Hunger guished-female,) could terminate,—far short itself (very considerable in those days) he of Bedlam. ean pacify by speech. Violent meal mobs at Marseilles and at Aix, unmanageable by fire-arms and governors, he smooths down by the word of his mouth; the governor soliciting him, though unloved. It is as a Roman Triumph, and more. He is chosen deputy for two places; has to decline Marseilles, and honour Aix. Let his enemies look and won
On the 4th day of May, 1789, Madame de Staël, looking from a window in the main street of Versailles, amid an assembled world, as the Deputies walked in procession from the church of Nôtre-Dame to that of Saint Louis, to hear High Mass, and be constituted StatesGeneral, saw this: "Among these Nobles who
nad been deputed to the Third Estate, above | charmed with him," when it comes to tha all others, the Comte de Mirabeau. The opi- He is the man of the Revolution, while he nion men had of his genius was singularly lives; king of it; and only with life, as we augmented by the fear entertained of his im- compute, would have quitted his kingship of morality; and yet it was this very immorality it. Alone of all these Twelve Hundred, there which straitened the influence his astonishing is in him the faculty of a king. For, indeed, faculties were to secure him. You could not have we not seen how assiduously Destiny but look long at this man, when once you had had shaped him all along, as with an express noticed him his immense black head of hair eye to the work now in hand? O crabbed old distinguished him among them all; you would Friend of Men, whilst thou wert bolting this have said his force depended on it, like that man into Isles of Rhé, Castles of If, and trainof Samson: his face borrowed new expression ing him so sharply to be thyself, not himself,— from its very ugliness; his whole person gave how little knewest thou what thou wert doing! you the idea of an irregular power, but a Let us add, that the brave old Marquis lived power such as you would figure in a Tribune to see his son's victory over Fate and men, of the People." Mirabeau's history through and rejoiced in it; and rebuked Barrel Mirathe first twenty-three months of the Revolution beau for controverting such a Brother Gabriel. falls not to be written here: yet it is well In the invalid chimney-nook at Argenteuil, worth writing somewhere. The Constituent near Paris, he sat raying out curious observaAssembly, when his name was first read out, tions to the last; and died three days before received it with murmurs; not knowing what the Bastille fell, precisely when the Culbute they murmured at! This honourable member Générale was bursting out. they were murmuring over was the member of all members; the august Constituent, without him, were no Constituent at all. Very notable, truly, is his procedure in this section of world-history: by far the notablest single element there: none like to him, or second to him. Once he is seen visibly to have saved, as with his own force, the existence of the Constituent Assembly; to have turned the whole tide of things: in one of those moments-such mourning as no modern people ever which are cardinal; decisive for centuries. saw for one man. This Mirabeau's work then The royal Declaration of the Twenty-third of is done. He sleeps with the primeval giants. June is promulgated: there is military force He has gone over to the majority: Abiit ag enough: there is then the king's express order | plures. to disperse, to meet as separate Third Estate on the morrow. Bastilles and scaffolds may In the way of eulogy and dyslogy, and sumbe the penalty for disobeying. Mirabeau dis-ming up of character, there many doubtless be obeys; lifts his voice to encourage others, all a great many things set forth concerning this pallid, panic-stricken, to disobey. Supreme Mirabeau; as already there has been much Usher De Brézé enters, with the king's re- discussion and arguing about him, better and newed order to depart. "Messieurs," said De worse: which is proper surely; as about all Brézé, "you heard the king's order?" The manner of new things, were they much less Swallower of Formulas bellows out these questionable than this new giant is. The prewords, that have become memorable: "Yes, sent reviewer, meanwhile, finds it suitabler to Monsieur, we heard what the king was advised restrict himself and his exhausted readers to to say; and you, who cannot be interpreter of the three following moral reflections.. his meaning to the States-General; you, who Moral reflection first,-that, in these centuries have neither vote nor seat, nor right of speech men are not born demi-gods and perfect chahere, you are not the man to remind us of it. racters, but imperfect ones, and mere blamable Go, Monsieur, tell those who sent you that we men, namely, environed with such short-comare here by will of the Nation; and that no-ing and confusion of their own, and then with thing but the force of bayonets can drive us such adscititious scandal and misjudgment hence!" And poor De Brézé vanishes,- (got in the work they did,) that they resemble back foremost, the Fils Adoptif says. less demi-gods than a sort of god-devils,-very imperfect characters indeed. The demi-god arrangement were the one which, at first sight, this reviewer might be inclined to prefer.
But finally, the twenty-three allotted months are over. Madame de Staël, on the 4th of May, 1789, saw the Roman Tribune of the People, and Samson with his long black hair: and on the 4th of April, 1791, there is a Funeral Procession extending four miles: king's ministers, senators, national guards, and all Paris,torchlight, wail of trombones and music, and the tears of men; mourning of a whole people,
But this, cardinal moment though it be, is perhaps intrinsically among his smaller feats. In general, we would say once more with emphasis, He has "humé toutes les formules." He goes through the Revolution like a substance and a force, not like a formula of one. While innumerable barren Sièyeses and Constitutionpedants are building, with such hammering and troweling, their august paper constitution, (which endured eleven months,) this man looks not at cobwebs and Social-Contracts, but at things and men; discerning what is to be done,-proceeding straight to do it. He shivers out Usher De Brézé, back foremost, when that is the problem. "Marie Antoinette is
Moral reflection second,-however, that probably men were never born demi-gods in any century, but precisely god-devils as we see; certain of whom do become a kind of demigods! How many are the men, not censured, misjudged, calumniated only, but tortured, crucified, hung on gibbets,-not as god-devils even, but as devils proper; who have never theless grown to seem respectable, or infinitely respectable! For the thing which was not they, which was not any thing, has fallen away piecemeal; and become avowedly babble and