But strangest of all, Camille Desmoulins is purged out.  Couthon gave as a test in regard to Jacobin purgation the question, ’What hast thou done to be hanged if Counter-Revolution should arrive?’ Yet Camille, who could so well answer this question, is purged out!  The truth is, Camille, early in December last, began publishing a new Journal, or Series of Pamphlets, entitled the Vieux Cordelier, Old Cordelier.  Camille, not afraid at one time to ’embrace Liberty on a heap of dead bodies,’ begins to ask now, Whether among so many arresting and punishing Committees there ought not to be a ‘Committee of Mercy?’ Saint-Just, he observes, is an extremely solemn young Republican, who ’carries his head as if it were a Saint-Sacrement; adorable Hostie, or divine Real-Presence!  Sharply enough, this old Cordelier, Danton and he were of the earliest primary Cordeliers,—­shoots his glittering war-shafts into your new Cordeliers, your Heberts, Momoros, with their brawling brutalities and despicabilities:  say, as the Sun-god (for poor Camille is a Poet) shot into that Python Serpent sprung of mud.

Whereat, as was natural, the Hebertist Python did hiss and writhe amazingly; and threaten ’sacred right of Insurrection;’—­and, as we saw, get cast into Prison.  Nay, with all the old wit, dexterity, and light graceful poignancy, Camille, translating ’out of Tacitus, from the Reign of Tiberius,’ pricks into the Law of the Suspect itself; making it odious!  Twice, in the Decade, his wild Leaves issue; full of wit, nay of humour, of harmonious ingenuity and insight,—­one of the strangest phenomenon of that dark time; and smite, in their wild-sparkling way, at various monstrosities, Saint-Sacrament heads, and Juggernaut idols, in a rather reckless manner.  To the great joy of Josephine Beauharnais, and the other Five Thousand and odd Suspect, who fill the Twelve Houses of Arrest; on whom a ray of hope dawns!  Robespierre, at first approbatory, knew not at last what to think; then thought, with his Jacobins, that Camille must be expelled.  A man of true Revolutionary spirit, this Camille; but with the unwisest sallies; whom Aristocrats and Moderates have the art to corrupt!  Jacobinism is in uttermost crisis and struggle:  enmeshed wholly in plots, corruptibilities, neck-gins and baited falltraps of Pitt Ennemi du Genre Humain.  Camille’s First Number begins with ’O Pitt!’—­his last is dated 15 Pluviose Year 2, 3d February 1794; and ends with these words of Montezuma’s, ’Les dieux ont soif, The gods are athirst.’

Be this as it may, the Hebertists lie in Prison only some nine days.  On the 24th of March, therefore, the Revolution Tumbrils carry through that Life-tumult a new cargo:  Hebert, Vincent, Momoro, Ronsin, Nineteen of them in all; with whom, curious enough, sits Clootz Speaker of Mankind.  They have been massed swiftly into a lump, this miscellany of Nondescripts; and travel now their last road.  No help.  They too must ‘look through the little window;’