General Dumouriez, with the Foreign Portfolio shall ply Kaunitz and the Kaiser, in another style than did poor Delessarts; whom indeed we have sent to our High Court of Orleans for his sluggishness.  War-minister Narbonne is washed away by the Time-flood; poor Chevalier de Grave, chosen by the Court, is fast washing away:  then shall austere Servan, able Engineer-Officer, mount suddenly to the War Department.  Genevese Claviere sees an old omen realized:  passing the Finance Hotel, long years ago, as a poor Genevese Exile, it was borne wondrously on his mind that he was to be Finance Minister; and now he is it;—­and his poor Wife, given up by the Doctors, rises and walks, not the victim of nerves but their vanquisher. (Dumont, c. 20, 21.) And above all, our Minister of the Interior?  Roland de la Platriere, he of Lyons!  So have the Brissotins, public or private Opinion, and Breakfasts in the Place Vendome decided it.  Strict Roland, compared to a Quaker endimanche, or Sunday Quaker, goes to kiss hands at the Tuileries, in round hat and sleek hair, his shoes tied with mere riband or ferrat!  The Supreme Usher twitches Dumouriez aside:  “Quoi, Monsieur!  No buckles to his shoes?”—­“Ah, Monsieur,” answers Dumouriez, glancing towards the ferrat:  “All is lost, Tout est perdu.” (Madame Roland, ii. 80-115.)

And so our fair Roland removes from her upper floor in the Rue Saint-Jacques, to the sumptuous saloons once occupied by Madame Necker.  Nay still earlier, it was Calonne that did all this gilding; it was he who ground these lustres, Venetian mirrors; who polished this inlaying, this veneering and or-moulu; and made it, by rubbing of the proper lamp, an Aladdin’s Palace:—­and now behold, he wanders dim-flitting over Europe, half-drowned in the Rhine-stream, scarcely saving his Papers!  Vos non vobis.—­The fair Roland, equal to either fortune, has her public Dinner on Fridays, the Ministers all there in a body:  she withdraws to her desk (the cloth once removed), and seems busy writing; nevertheless loses no word:  if for example Deputy Brissot and Minister Claviere get too hot in argument, she, not without timidity, yet with a cunning gracefulness, will interpose.  Deputy Brissot’s head, they say, is getting giddy, in this sudden height:  as feeble heads do.

Envious men insinuate that the Wife Roland is Minister, and not the Husband:  it is happily the worst they have to charge her with.  For the rest, let whose head soever be getting giddy, it is not this brave woman’s.  Serene and queenly here, as she was of old in her own hired garret of the Ursulines Convent!  She who has quietly shelled French-beans for her dinner; being led to that, as a young maiden, by quiet insight and computation; and knowing what that was, and what she was:  such a one will also look quietly on or-moulu and veneering, not ignorant of these either.  Calonne did the veneering:  he gave dinners here, old Besenval diplomatically whispering to him; and was great:  yet Calonne we saw at last ‘walk with long strides.’  Necker next:  and where now is Necker?  Us also a swift change has brought hither; a swift change will send us hence.  Not a Palace but a Caravansera!