should even vary.  Other Sections, of the wealthier kind, come denouncing such demand; nay the same Section will demand to-day, and denounce the demand to-morrow, according as the wealthier sit, or the poorer.  Wherefore, indeed, the Girondins decree that all Sections shall close ’at ten in the evening;’ before the working people come:  which Decree remains without effect.  And nightly the Mother of Patriotism wails doleful; doleful, but her eye kindling!  And Fournier l’Americain is busy, and the two Banker Freys, and Varlet Apostle of Liberty; the bull-voice of Marquis Saint-Huruge is heard.  And shrill women vociferate from all Galleries, the Convention ones and downwards.  Nay a ‘Central Committee’ of all the Forty-eight Sections, looms forth huge and dubious; sitting dim in the Archeveche, sending Resolutions, receiving them:  a Centre of the Sections; in dread deliberation as to a New Tenth of August!

One thing we will specify to throw light on many:  the aspect under which, seen through the eyes of these Girondin Twelve, or even seen through one’s own eyes, the Patriotism of the softer sex presents itself.  There are Female Patriots, whom the Girondins call Megaeras, and count to the extent of eight thousand; with serpent-hair, all out of curl; who have changed the distaff for the dagger.  They are of ’the Society called Brotherly,’ Fraternelle, say Sisterly, which meets under the roof of the Jacobins.  ‘Two thousand daggers,’ or so, have been ordered,—­doubtless, for them.  They rush to Versailles, to raise more women; but the Versailles women will not rise. (Buzot, Memoires, pp. 69, 84; Meillan, Memoires, pp. 192, 195, 196.  See Commission des Douze in Choix des Rapports, xii. 69-131.)

Nay, behold, in National Garden of Tuileries,—­Demoiselle Theroigne herself is become as a brownlocked Diana (were that possible) attacked by her own dogs, or she-dogs!  The Demoiselle, keeping her carriage, is for Liberty indeed, as she has full well shewn; but then for Liberty with Respectability:  whereupon these serpent-haired Extreme She-Patriots now do fasten on her, tatter her, shamefully fustigate her, in their shameful way; almost fling her into the Garden-ponds, had not help intervened.  Help, alas, to small purpose.  The poor Demoiselle’s head and nervous-system, none of the soundest, is so tattered and fluttered that it will never recover; but flutter worse and worse, till it crack; and within year and day we hear of her in madhouse, and straitwaistcoat, which proves permanent!—­Such brownlocked Figure did flutter, and inarticulately jabber and gesticulate, little able to speak the obscure meaning it had, through some segment of that Eighteenth Century of Time.  She disappears here from the Revolution and Public History, for evermore. (Deux Amis, vii. 77-80; Forster, i. 514; Moore, i. 70.  She did not die till 1817; in the Salpetriere, in the most abject state of insanity; see Esquirol, Des Maladies Mentales (Paris, 1838), i. 445-50.)