Distinctions of rank and condition will no longer exist; at Saint-Andéol " the honor of taking the oath in the name of the people is conferred on two old men, one ninety-three and the other ninety-four years of age, one a noble and a colonel of the National Guard, and the other a ****** peasant." At Paris, two hundred thousand persons of all conditions, ages, and ***es, officers and soldiers, monks and actors, school-boys and masters, dandies and ragamuffins, elegant ladies and fishwives, workmen of every class and the peasants from the vicinity, all flocked to the Champ de Mars to dig the earth which was not ready, and in a week, trundling wheelbarrows and handling the pick-ax as equals and comrades, all voluntarily yoked in the same service, converted a flat surface into a valley between two hills. - At Strasbourg, General Luckner, commander-in-chief, worked a whole afternoon in his shirt-sleeves just like the commonest laborer. The confederates are fed, housed, and have their expenses paid everywhere on all the roads. At Paris the publicans and keepers of furnished houses lower their prices of their own accord, and do not think of robbing their new guests. "The districts," moreover, "feast the provincials to their heart's content.[6] There are meals every day for from twelve to fifteen hundred people." Provincials and Parisians, soldiers and bourgeois, seated and mingled together, drink each other's health and embrace.
The soldiers, especially, and the inferior officers are surrounded, welcomed, and entertained to such an extent that they lose their heads, their health, and more besides. One "old trooper, who had been over fifty years in the service, died on the way home, used up with cordials and excess of pleasure." In short, the joy is excessive, as it should be on the great day when the wish of an entire century is accomplished. - Behold ideal felicity, as displayed in the books and illustrations of the time! The natural man buried underneath an artificial civilization is disinterred, and again appears as in early days, as in Tahiti, as in philosophic and literary pastorals, as in bucolic and mythological operas, confiding, affectionate, and happy. "The sight of all these beings again restored to the sweet sentiments of primitive brotherhood is an exquisite delight almost too great for the soul to support," and the Frenchman, more light-hearted and far more childlike than he is to-day, gives himself up unrestrainedly to his social, sympathetic, and generous instincts. Whatever the imagination of the day offers him to increase his emotions, all the classical, rhetorical, and dramatic material at his command, are employed for the embellishment of his festival. Already wildly enthusiastic, he is anxious to increase his enthusiasm. - At Lyons, the fifty thousand confederates from the south range themselves in line of battle around an artificial rock, fifty feet high, covered with shrubs, and surmounted by a Temple of Concord in which stands a huge statue of Liberty; the steps of the rock are decked with flags, and a solemn mass precedes the administration of the oath. - At Paris, an alter dedicated to the nation is erected in the middle of the Champ de Mars, which is transformed into a colossal circus. The regular troops and the federations of the departments stand in position around it, the King being in front with the Queen and the dauphin, while near them are the princes and princesses in a gallery, and the members of the National Assembly in an amphitheater; two hundred priests, draped in their albs and with tricolored belts, officiate around Talleyrand, Bishop of Autun; three hundred drums and twelve hundred musicians all play at once; forty piece of cannon are discharged at one volley, and four hundred thousand cheers go up as if from one threat. Never was such an effort made to intoxicate the senses and strain the nerves beyond their powers of endurance! - The moral machine is made to vibrate to the same and even to a greater extent. For more than a year past, harangues, proclamations, addresses, newspapers and events have daily added one degree more to the pressure. On this occasion, thousands of speeches, multiplied by myriads of newspapers, carry the enthusiasm to the highest pitch.