President Henault, remarking on royal Surnames of Honour how difficult it often is to ascertain not only why, but even when, they were conferred, takes occasion in his sleek official way, to make a philosophical reflection. 'The Surname of Bien-aime (Well-beloved),' says he, 'which Louis XV. bears, will not leave posterity in the same doubt. This Prince, in the year 1744, while hastening from one end of his kingdom to the other, and suspending his conquests in Flanders that he might fly to the assistance of Alsace, was arrested at Metz by a malady which threatened to cut short his days. At the news of this, Paris, all in terror, seemed a city taken by storm: the churches resounded with supplications and groans; the prayers of priests and people were every moment interrupted by their sobs: and it was from an interest so dear and tender that this Surname of Bien-aime fashioned itself, a title higher still than all the rest which this great Prince has earned.' (Abrege Chronologique de l'Histoire de France (Paris, 1775), p. 701.)
       So stands it written; in lasting memorial of that year 1744. Thirty other years have come and gone; and 'this great Prince' again lies sick; but in how altered circumstances now! Churches resound not with excessive groanings; Paris is stoically calm: sobs interrupt no prayers, for indeed none are offered; except Priests' Litanies, read or chanted at fixed money- rate per hour, which are not liable to interruption. The shepherd of the people has been carried home from Little Trianon, heavy of heart, and been put to bed in his own Chateau of Versailles: the flock knows it, and heeds it not. At most, in the immeasurable tide of French Speech (which ceases not day after day, and only ebbs towards the short hours of night), may this of the royal sickness emerge from time to time as an article of news. Bets are doubtless depending; nay, some people 'express themselves loudly in the streets.' (Memoires de M. le Baron Besenval (Paris, 1805), ii. 59- 90.) But for the rest, on green field and steepled city, the May sun shines out, the May evening fades; and men ply their useful or useless business as if no Louis lay in danger.
       Dame Dubarry, indeed, might pray, if she had a talent for it; Duke d'Aiguillon too, Maupeou and the Parlement Maupeou: these, as they sit in their high places, with France harnessed under their feet, know well on what basis they continue there. Look to it, D'Aiguillon; sharply as thou didst, from the Mill of St. Cast, on Quiberon and the invading English; thou, 'covered if not with glory yet with meal!' Fortune was ever accounted inconstant: and each dog has but his day.
       Forlorn enough languished Duke d'Aiguillon, some years ago; covered, as we said, with meal; nay with worse. For La Chalotais, the Breton Parlementeer, accused him not only of poltroonery and tyranny, but even of concussion (official plunder of money); which accusations it was easier to get 'quashed' by backstairs Influences than to get answered: neither could the thoughts, or even the tongues, of men be tied. Thus, under disastrous eclipse, had this grand-nephew of the great Richelieu to glide about; unworshipped by the world; resolute Choiseul, the abrupt proud man, disdaining him, or even forgetting him. Little prospect but to glide into Gascony, to rebuild Chateaus there, (Arthur Young, Travels during the years 1787-88-89 (Bury St. Edmunds, 1792), i. 44.) and die inglorious killing game! However, in the year 1770, a certain young soldier, Dumouriez by name, returning from Corsica, could see 'with sorrow, at Compiegne, the old King of France, on foot, with doffed hat, in sight of his army, at the side of a magnificent phaeton, doing homage the--Dubarry.' (La Vie et les Memoires du General Dumouriez (Paris, 1822), i. 141.)
       Much lay therein! Thereby, for one thing, could D'Aiguillon postpone the rebuilding of his Chateau, and rebuild his fortunes first. For stout Choiseul would discern in the Dubarry nothing but a wonderfully dizened Scarlet-woman; and go on his way as if she were not. Intolerable: the source of sighs, tears, of pettings and pouting; which would not end till 'France' (La France, as she named her royal valet) finally mustered heart to see Choiseul; and with that 'quivering in the chin (tremblement du menton natural in such cases) (Besenval, Memoires, ii. 21.) faltered out a dismissal: dismissal of his last substantial man, but pacification of his scarlet-woman. Thus D'Aiguillon rose again, and culminated. And with him there rose Maupeou, the banisher of Parlements; who plants you a refractory President 'at Croe in Combrailles on the top of steep rocks, inaccessible except by litters,' there to consider himself. Likewise there rose Abbe Terray, dissolute Financier, paying eightpence in the shilling,--so that wits exclaim in some press at the playhouse, "Where is Abbe Terray, that he might reduce us to two-thirds!" And so have these individuals (verily by black-art) built them a Domdaniel, or enchanted Dubarrydom; call it an Armida-Palace, where they dwell pleasantly; Chancellor Maupeou 'playing blind-man's-buff' with the scarlet Enchantress; or gallantly presenting her with dwarf Negroes;--and a Most Christian King has unspeakable peace within doors, whatever he may have without. "My Chancellor is a scoundrel; but I cannot do without him." (Dulaure, Histoire de Paris (Paris, 1824), vii. 328.)
       Beautiful Armida-Palace, where the inmates live enchanted lives; lapped in soft music of adulation; waited on by the splendours of the world;--which nevertheless hangs wondrously as by a single hair. Should the Most Christian King die; or even get seriously afraid of dying! For, alas, had not the fair haughty Chateauroux to fly, with wet cheeks and flaming heart, from that Fever-scene at Metz; driven forth by sour shavelings? She hardly returned, when fever and shavelings were both swept into the background. Pompadour too, when Damiens wounded Royalty 'slightly, under the fifth rib,' and our drive to Trianon went off futile, in shrieks and madly shaken torches,--had to pack, and be in readiness: yet did not go, the wound not proving poisoned. For his Majesty has religious faith; believes, at least in a Devil. And now a third peril; and who knows what may be in it! For the Doctors look grave; ask privily, If his Majesty had not the small-pox long ago?--and doubt it may have been a false kind. Yes, Maupeou, pucker those sinister brows of thine, and peer out on it with thy malign rat-eyes: it is a questionable case. Sure only that man is mortal; that with the life of one mortal snaps irrevocably the wonderfulest talisman, and all Dubarrydom rushes off, with tumult, into infinite Space; and ye, as subterranean Apparitions are wont, vanish utterly,--leaving only a smell of sulphur!
       These, and what holds of these may pray,--to Beelzebub, or whoever will hear them. But from the rest of France there comes, as was said, no prayer; or one of an opposite character, 'expressed openly in the streets.' Chateau or Hotel, were an enlightened Philosophism scrutinises many things, is not given to prayer: neither are Rossbach victories, Terray Finances, nor, say only 'sixty thousand Lettres de Cachet' (which is Maupeou's share), persuasives towards that. O Henault! Prayers? From a France smitten (by black-art) with plague after plague, and lying now in shame and pain, with a Harlot's foot on its neck, what prayer can come? Those lank scarecrows, that prowl hunger-stricken through all highways and byways of French Existence, will they pray? The dull millions that, in the workshop or furrowfield, grind fore-done at the wheel of Labour, like haltered gin- horses, if blind so much the quieter? Or they that in the Bicetre Hospital, 'eight to a bed,' lie waiting their manumission? Dim are those heads of theirs, dull stagnant those hearts: to them the great Sovereign is known mainly as the great Regrater of Bread. If they hear of his sickness, they will answer with a dull Tant pis pour lui; or with the question, Will he die?
       Yes, will he die? that is now, for all France, the grand question, and hope; whereby alone the King's sickness has still some interest.

book 1.i. death of louis xv
   Chapter 1.1.I. Louis the Well-Beloved
   Chapter 1.1.II. Realised Ideals
   Chapter 1.1.III. Viaticum
   Chapter 1.1.IV. Louis the Unforgotten
book 1.ii. the paper age
   Chapter 1.2.I. Astraea Redux
   Chapter 1.2.II. Petition in Hieroglyphs
   Chapter 1.2.III. Questionable
   Chapter 1.2.IV. Maurepas
   Chapter 1.2.V. Astraea Redux without Cash
   Chapter 1.2.VI. Windbags
   Chapter 1.2.VII. Contrat Social
   Chapter 1.2.VIII. Printed Paper
book 1.iii. the parlement of paris
   Chapter 1.3.I. Dishonoured Bills
   Chapter 1.3.II. Controller Calonne
   Chapter 1.3.III. The Notables
   Chapter 1.3.IV. Lomenie's Edicts
   Chapter 1.3.V. Lomenie's Thunderbolts
   Chapter 1.3.VI. Lomenie's Plots
   Chapter 1.3.VII. Internecine
   Chapter 1.3.VIII. Lomenie's Death-throes
book 1.iii. the parlement of pari
   Chapter 1.3.IX. Burial with Bonfire
book 1.iv. states-general
   Chapter 1.4.I. The Notables Again
   Chapter 1.4.II. The Election
   Chapter 1.4.III. Grown Electric
   Chapter 1.4.IV. The Procession
book 1.v. the third estate
   Chapter 1.5.I. Inertia
   Chapter 1.5.II. Mercury de Breze
   Chapter 1.5.III. Broglie the War-God
   Chapter 1.5.IV. To Arms!
   Chapter 1.5.V. Give us Arms
   Chapter 1.5.VI. Storm and Victory
   Chapter 1.5.VII. Not a Revolt
   Chapter 1.5.VIII. Conquering your King
   Chapter 1.5.IX. The Lanterne
book 1.vi. consolidation
   Chapter 1.6.I. Make the Constitution
   Chapter 1.6.II. The Constituent Assembly
   Chapter 1.6.III. The General Overturn
   Chapter 1.6.IV. In Queue
   Chapter 1.6.V. The Fourth Estate
book 1.vii. the insurrection of women
   Chapter 1.7.I. Patrollotism
   Chapter 1.7.II. O Richard, O my King
   Chapter 1.7.III. Black Cockades
   Chapter 1.7.IV. The Menads
   Chapter 1.7.V. Usher Maillard
   Chapter 1.7.VI. To Versailles
   Chapter 1.7.VII. At Versailles
   Chapter 1.7.VIII. The Equal Diet
   Chapter 1.7.IX. Lafayette
   Chapter 1.7.X. The Grand Entries
   Chapter 1.7.XI. From Versailles
book 2.i. the feast of pikes
   Chapter 2.1.I. In the Tuileries
   Chapter 2.1.II. In the Salle de Manege
   Chapter 2.1.III. The Muster
   Chapter 2.1.IV. Journalism
   Chapter 2.1.V. Clubbism
   Chapter 2.1.VI. Je le jure
   Chapter 2.1.VII. Prodigies
   Chapter 2.1.VIII. Solemn League and Covenant
   Chapter 2.1.IX. Symbolic
   Chapter 2.1.X. Mankind
   Chapter 2.1.XI. As in the Age of Gold
   Chapter 2.1.XII. Sound and Smoke
book 2.ii. nanci
   Chapter 2.2.I. Bouille
   Chapter 2.2.II. Arrears and Aristocrats
   Chapter 2.2.III. Bouille at Metz
   Chapter 2.2.IV. Arrears at Nanci
   Chapter 2.2.V. Inspector Malseigne
   Chapter 2.2.VI. Bouille at Nanci
book 2.iii. the tuileries
   Chapter 2.3.I. Epimenides
   Chapter 2.3.II. The Wakeful
   Chapter 2.3.III. Sword in Hand
   Chapter 2.3.IV. To fly or not to fly
   Chapter 2.3.V. The Day of Poniards
   Chapter 2.3.VI. Mirabeau
   Chapter 2.3.VII. Death of Mirabeau
book 2.iv. varennes
   Chapter 2.4.I. Easter at Saint-Cloud
   Chapter 2.4.II. Easter at Paris
   Chapter 2.4.III. Count Fersen
   Chapter 2.4.IV. Attitude
   Chapter 2.4.V. The New Berline
   Chapter 2.4.VI. Old-Dragoon Drouet
   Chapter 2.4.VII. The Night of Spurs
   Chapter 2.4.VIII. The Return
   Chapter 2.4.IX. Sharp Shot
book 2.v. parliament first
   Chapter 2.5.I. Grande Acceptation
   Chapter 2.5.II. The Book of the Law
   Chapter 2.5.III. Avignon
   Chapter 2.5.IV. No Sugar
   Chapter 2.5.V. Kings and Emigrants
   Chapter 2.5.VI. Brigands and Jales
   Chapter 2.5.VII. Constitution will not march
   Chapter 2.5.VIII. The Jacobins
   Chapter 2.5.IX. Minister Roland
   Chapter 2.5.X. Petion-National-Pique
   Chapter 2.5.XI. The Hereditary Representative
   Chapter 2.5.XII. Procession of the Black Breeches
book 2.vi. the marseillese
   Chapter 2.6.I. Executive that does not act
   Chapter 2.6.II. Let us march
   Chapter 2.6.III. Some Consolation to Mankind
   Chapter 2.6.IV. Subterranean
   Chapter 2.6.V. At Dinner
   Chapter 2.6.VI. The Steeples at Midnight
   Chapter 2.6.VII. The Swiss
   Chapter 2.6.VIII. Constitution burst in Pieces
book 3.i. september
   Chapter 3.1.I. The Improvised Commune
   Chapter 3.1.II. Danton
   Chapter 3.1.III. Dumouriez
   Chapter 3.1.IV. September in Paris
   Chapter 3.1.V. A Trilogy
   Chapter 3.1.VI. The Circular
   Chapter 3.1.VII. September in Argonne
   Chapter 3.1.VIII. Exeunt
book 3.ii. regicide
   Chapter 3.2.I. The Deliberative
   Chapter 3.2.II. The Executive
   Chapter 3.2.III. Discrowned
   Chapter 3.2.IV. The Loser pays
   Chapter 3.2.V. Stretching of Formulas
   Chapter 3.2.VI. At the Bar
   Chapter 3.2.VII. The Three Votings
   Chapter 3.2.VIII. Place de la Revolution
book 3.iii. the girondins
   Chapter 3.3.I. Cause and Effect
   Chapter 3.3.II. Culottic and Sansculottic
   Chapter 3.3.III. Growing shrill
   Chapter 3.3.IV. Fatherland in Danger
   Chapter 3.3.V. Sansculottism Accoutred
   Chapter 3.3.VI. The Traitor
   Chapter 3.3.VII. In Fight
   Chapter 3.3.VIII. In Death-Grips
   Chapter 3.3.IX. Extinct
book 3.iv. terror
   Chapter 3.4.I. Charlotte Corday
   Chapter 3.4.II. In Civil War
   Chapter 3.4.III. Retreat of the Eleven
   Chapter 3.4.IV. O Nature
   Chapter 3.4.V. Sword of Sharpness
   Chapter 3.4.VI. Risen against Tyrants
   Chapter 3.4.VII. Marie-Antoinette
   Chapter 3.4.VIII. The Twenty-two
book 3.v. terror the order of the day
   Chapter 3.5.I. Rushing down
   Chapter 3.5.II. Death
   Chapter 3.5.III. Destruction
   Chapter 3.5.IV. Carmagnole complete
   Chapter 3.5.V. Like a Thunder-Cloud
   Chapter 3.5.VI. Do thy Duty
   Chapter 3.5.VII. Flame-Picture
book 3.vi. thermidor
   Chapter 3.6.I. The Gods are athirst
   Chapter 3.6.II. Danton, No weakness
   Chapter 3.6.III. The Tumbrils
   Chapter 3.6.IV. Mumbo-Jumbo
   Chapter 3.6.V. The Prisons
   Chapter 3.6.VI. To finish the Terror
   Chapter 3.6.VII. Go down to
book 3.vii. vendemiaire
   Chapter 3.7.I. Decadent
   Chapter 3.7.II. La Cabarus
   Chapter 3.7.III. Quiberon
   Chapter 3.7.IV. Lion not dead
   Chapter 3.7.V. Lion sprawling its last
   Chapter 3.7.VI. Grilled Herrings
   Chapter 3.7.VII. The Whiff of Grapeshot