fire which we liken to the burning of coal, or even of anthracite coal; difficult to kindle, but then which nothing will put out.  The ready Gaelic fire, we can remark further, and remark not in Pichegrus only, but in innumerable Voltaires, Racines, Laplaces, no less; for a man, whether he fight, or sing, or think, will remain the same unity of a man,—­is admirable for roasting eggs, in every conceivable sense.  The Teutonic anthracite again, as we see in Luthers, Leibnitzes, Shakespeares, is preferable for smelting metals.  How happy is our Europe that has both kinds!—­

But be this as it may, the Republic is clearly triumphing.  In the spring of the year Mentz Town again sees itself besieged; will again change master:  did not Merlin the Thionviller, ‘with wild beard and look,’ say it was not for the last time they saw him there?  The Elector of Mentz circulates among his brother Potentates this pertinent query, Were it not advisable to treat of Peace?  Yes! answers many an Elector from the bottom of his heart.  But, on the other hand, Austria hesitates; finally refuses, being subsidied by Pitt.  As to Pitt, whoever hesitate, he, suspending his Habeas-corpus, suspending his Cash-payments, stands inflexible,—­spite of foreign reverses; spite of domestic obstacles, of Scotch National Conventions and English Friends of the People, whom he is obliged to arraign, to hang, or even to see acquitted with jubilee:  a lean inflexible man.  The Majesty of Spain, as we predicted, makes Peace; also the Majesty of Prussia:  and there is a Treaty of Bale. (5th April, 1795, Montgaillard, iv. 319.) Treaty with black Anarchists and Regicides!  Alas, what help?  You cannot hang this Anarchy; it is like to hang you:  you must needs treat with it.

Likewise, General Hoche has even succeeded in pacificating La Vendee.  Rogue Rossignol and his ‘Infernal Columns’ have vanished:  by firmness and justice, by sagacity and industry, General Hoche has done it.  Taking ‘Movable Columns,’ not infernal; girdling-in the Country; pardoning the submissive, cutting down the resistive, limb after limb of the Revolt is brought under.  La Rochejacquelin, last of our Nobles, fell in battle; Stofflet himself makes terms; Georges-Cadoudal is back to Brittany, among his Chouans:  the frightful gangrene of La Vendee seems veritably extirpated.  It has cost, as they reckon in round numbers, the lives of a Hundred Thousand fellow-mortals; with noyadings, conflagratings by infernal column, which defy arithmetic.  This is the La Vendee War.  (Histoire de la Guerre de la Vendee, par M. le Comte de Vauban, Memoires de Madame de la Rochejacquelin, &c.)