real estate agents announce, “in the new state of Kentucky, and the ancient state of Virginia, lands in a country free from despotism and anarchy.” The potter improves the chance, and turns out plates and cups and saucers by the thousands, suitable for all the varying tastes and shades of opinion; there is elegant Sèvres with a _bonnet rouge_ for the rich patriot; there is a _vive le roi_, with a sceptre, for the monarchist; there is a guillotine for the bloodthirsty; there is a coarse and vulgar joke for the ribald. The cloth-maker prints patriotic scenes on his curtain stuff; the handkerchief-maker decorates with transcriptions of the _droits des hommes_; the hat-maker turns out idealized _bonnets rouges_ suitable for the street or opera; the fan-maker illuminates with king or _sans-culottes_, according to taste; the very manufacturer of playing-cards takes off the time-honored king and queen and knave, and replaces them with heroes, philosophers, and Revolutionary emblems. Cabinet-maker, jeweller, shoemaker, weaver, all turn the Revolution to account. For whether justice reign or fall, the world must go on, and while the few wrestle with the pains of progress, of achievement, of aspiration, the mass looks on and calculates what effect the struggle will have on the price of bread. XIII DEATH ON THE GUILLOTINE The inmates of the Conciergerie were still shivering under the horror of the death of the twenty-one Girondins when Madame Roland appeared among them. Her coming was an event which awakened the liveliest interest. For eight months she had been the most influential woman in France. She was the recognized inspiration of the party which had wrecked the monarchy and established the Republic, which had been conquered by the force it had called to life. To the majority she was but a name. They all knew that her death was a foregone conclusion. They felt that she, too, knew it, and they watched, many of them with curiosity—for numbers of the inmates were of constitutional and royalist sympathies—for signs of revolt and of weakness. Never, however, had she been calmer, never more serene.