however, understand one thing. If they are, by their passionate temperaments, dangerous in politics, they have been better fitted than men for administration. By their sedentary habits, their tidy ways, their natural desire of satisfying, pleasing, and contenting all, they make excellent clerks. At the present time, many have post-offices. The Revolution, which overturned everything, by throwing men into active careers, ought to have employed women in sedentary ones. I see one woman mentioned amongst the clerks of the Committee of Public Good.-Register of the Reports of the Committee, 5th June, 1793, page 79.

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CHAPTER XXVIII.

CATHERINE THEOT, THE MOTHER OF GOD.-ROBESPIERRE THE MESSIAH. (JUNE, 1794.)

THE times had arrived at the height of fanaticism. The excess of emotions had crushed, humiliated, and discouraged reason. Without speaking of La Vendée, where nothing was seen but miracles, a God had appeared in Artois. The dead were brought to life in '94. In Lyons, a prophetess had had great success; one hundred thousand souls, it was said, had taken their de-parture, and set off, not knowing where. In Germany, innumerable sects of the illuminés spread not only among the people, but in the higher classes: the King of Prussia was joined with them. But no man in Europe excited so great interest in these mysteries as Maximilian. His life, his elevation to supreme power by the single influence of speech, was it not the most astonishing of

all miracles? nouncing him as the Messiah. These distinctly saw in the heavens the constellation of Robespierre. The 2d August, '93, the president of the Jacobins announced the Saviour who had come, without naming him. Many people had his portrait suspended in their houses, as a holy image. Women, and even generals, carried a little Robespierre in their bosoms, kissing and praying before this sainted image. What is more astonishing, is that those who saw him constantly and were brought nearer to him, for instance, a baroness, Madame Chalabre (who aided him in his police), not the less regarded him as a being of another world. They clasped their hands, saying: "Yes, Robespierre, thou art God."

Several letters came to him, an

A dark corridor ran from the little hôtel (now demolished), where the Committee of Security sat, to the Tuileries, where the Committee of Public Safety held their meetings. Policemen brought sealed packages here. Little girls brought letters or packets to the great disciple of the future Saviour, Madame Chalabre, mother of the manager of the gambling saloons.

We have elsewhere spoken of the old idiot in

the street Montmartre, praying before two busts: "God save Marinel and Pétion! God save Marinel and Pétion!" twelve hours a day. There is no doubt that in '94 she prayed as many hours for Robespierre.

The bitter Cevenol, Rabaut-Saint-Etienne, showed very well that these ridiculous mummeries, this crowd of devotees, and this patience of Robespierre in supporting them, was the vulnerable point, the heel of Achilles, through which the hero would be pierced. Girey-Dupré, in a sprightly and witty ballad, struck it, but just in passing. Was it not the subject of the comedy of Fabré d'Eglantine, which was so soon put down, and for which perhaps Fabré disappeared? In order to give a formula to the accusation, a fact was wanted, an occasion which could be seized upon. Robespierre gave it himself. In his police instincts, he was insatiable; curious for facts against his enemies, and the Committee of Safety, which he wanted to crush, he willingly searched in the accounts of this committee. He found, took, and carried away papers relating to the Duchess of Bourbon, and refused to return them. This made them curious; and the com

mittee procuring copies, saw that this business, so dear to Robespierre, was an affair with the illuminati. What secret motive had he in protecting the illuminés, of keeping them from finishing their business?

These sects have never been indifferent to politics. The Duke of Orleans had much to do with Freemasons and Templars, of whom, it was said, he was the Grand Templar. The jansenists, forced by persecution to become a secret society, by the skilfulness seldom to be met with, by which they organized the mysterious notoriety of the New Ecclesiastics, had merited the particular attention of the Jacobins. The ingenious picture revealing their secret mechanism was in 1790 the sole ornament of the Jacobin library. Robespierre, from '89 to '91, dwelt in the Saintonge au Marais, near the street Touraine, at the door almost of the sanctuary where these demoniacs of expiring jansenism performed their last miracles; the principal act was crucifying women, who descended from the cross with improved appetites. A violent return of fanaticism, after the Reign of Terror, was easy to foresee. But who would profit by it? An adept was practising in