otherwise; with 'a bust of Louis XIV. in the niche under it,' or now
no longer in the niche,--it still sticks there: still holding out an
ineffectual light, of fish-oil; and has seen worlds wrecked, and says
nothing.

But to the eye of enlightened Patriotism, what a thunder-cloud was this;
suddenly shaping itself in the radiance of the halcyon weather! Cloud
of Erebus blackness: betokening latent electricity without limit. Mayor
Bailly, General Lafayette throw up their commissions, in an indignant
manner;--need to be flattered back again. The cloud disappears, as
thunder-clouds do. The halcyon weather returns, though of a grayer
complexion; of a character more and more evidently not supernatural.

Thus, in any case, with what rubs soever, shall the Bastille be
abolished from our Earth; and with it, Feudalism, Despotism; and, one
hopes, Scoundrelism generally, and all hard usage of man by his brother
man. Alas, the Scoundrelism and hard usage are not so easy of abolition!
But as for the Bastille, it sinks day after day, and month after month;
its ashlars and boulders tumbling down continually, by express order of
our Municipals. Crowds of the curious roam through its caverns; gaze on
the skeletons found walled up, on the oubliettes, iron cages, monstrous
stone-blocks with padlock chains. One day we discern Mirabeau there;
along with the Genevese Dumont. (Dumont, Souvenirs sur Mirabeau, p.
305.) Workers and onlookers make reverent way for him; fling verses,
flowers on his path, Bastille-papers and curiosities into his carriage,
with vivats.

Able Editors compile Books from the Bastille Archives; from what of them
remain unburnt. The Key of that Robber-Den shall cross the Atlantic;
shall lie on Washington's hall-table. The great Clock ticks now in a