Nor are the authorities idle:  though unluckily, all Authorities, Municipalities and such like, are in the uncertain transitionary state; getting regenerated from old Monarchic to new Democratic; no Official yet knows clearly what he is.  Nevertheless, Mayors old or new do gather Marechaussees, National Guards, Troops of the line; justice, of the most summary sort, is not wanting.  The Electoral Committee of Macon, though but a Committee, goes the length of hanging, for its own behoof, as many as twenty.  The Prevot of Dauphine traverses the country ’with a movable column,’ with tipstaves, gallows-ropes; for gallows any tree will serve, and suspend its culprit, or ‘thirteen’ culprits.

Unhappy country!  How is the fair gold-and-green of the ripe bright Year defaced with horrid blackness:  black ashes of Chateaus, black bodies of gibetted Men!  Industry has ceased in it; not sounds of the hammer and saw, but of the tocsin and alarm-drum.  The sceptre has departed, whither one knows not;—­breaking itself in pieces:  here impotent, there tyrannous.  National Guards are unskilful, and of doubtful purpose; Soldiers are inclined to mutiny:  there is danger that they two may quarrel, danger that they may agree.  Strasburg has seen riots:  a Townhall torn to shreds, its archives scattered white on the winds; drunk soldiers embracing drunk citizens for three days, and Mayor Dietrich and Marshal Rochambeau reduced nigh to desperation. (Arthur Young, i. 141.—­Dampmartin:  Evenemens qui se sont passes sous mes yeux, i. 105-127.)

Through the middle of all which phenomena, is seen, on his triumphant transit, ‘escorted,’ through Befort for instance, ’by fifty National Horsemen and all the military music of the place,’—­M.  Necker, returning from Bale!  Glorious as the meridian; though poor Necker himself partly guesses whither it is leading. (Biographie Universelle, para Necker (by Lally-Tollendal).) One highest culminating day, at the Paris Townhall; with immortal vivats, with wife and daughter kneeling publicly to kiss his hand; with Besenval’s pardon granted,—­but indeed revoked before sunset:  one highest day, but then lower days, and ever lower, down even to lowest!  Such magic is in a name; and in the want of a name.  Like some enchanted Mambrino’s Helmet, essential to victory, comes this ’Saviour of France;’ beshouted, becymballed by the world:—­alas, so soon, to be disenchanted, to be pitched shamefully over the lists as a Barber’s Bason!  Gibbon ‘could wish to shew him’ (in this ejected, Barber’s-Bason state) to any man of solidity, who were minded to have the soul burnt out of him, and become a caput mortuum, by Ambition, unsuccessful or successful. (Gibbon’s Letters.)