Gamelin could not help being struck unpleasantly by the close resemblance in temper and ways of thought between the new magistrates and their predecessors under the old regime. In fact, they were of the old regime; Herman had held the office of Advocate General to the Council of Artois; Fouquier was a former Procureur at the Chatelet. They had preserved their character, whereas Gamelin believed in a Revolutionary palingenesis. Quitting the precincts of the court, he passed along the great gallery of the Palace and halted in front of the shops where articles of every sort and kind were exposed for sale in the most attractive fashion. Standing before the _citoyenne_ Tenot's stall, he turned over sundry historical, political, and philosophical works:--"The Chains of Slavery," "An Essay on Despotism," "The Crimes of Queens." "Very good!" he thought, "here is Republican stuff!" and he asked the woman if she sold a great many of these books. She shook her head: "The only things that sell are songs and romances,"--and pulling a duodecimo volume out of a drawer: "Here," she told him, "here we have something good." Evariste read the title: "La Religieuse en chemise," "The Nun in dishabille!" Before the next shop he came upon Philippe Desmahis, who, with a tender, conquering-hero air, among the _citoyenne_ Saint-Jorre's perfumes and powders and sachets, was assuring the fair tradeswoman of his undying love, promising to paint her portrait and begging her to vouchsafe him a moment's talk that evening in the Tuileries gardens. There was no resisting him; persuasion sat on his lips and beamed from his eye. The _citoyenne_ Saint-Jorre was listening without a word, her eyes on the ground, only too ready to believe him. * * * * * Wishing to familiarize himself with the awful duties imposed on him, the new juror resolved to mingle with the throng and look on at a case before the Tribunal as a member of the general public. He climbed the great stairs on which a vast crowd was seated as in an amphitheatre and pushed his way into the ancient Hall of the Parlement of Paris. This was crammed to suffocation; some General or other was taking his trial. For in those days, as old Brotteaux put it, "the Convention, copying the example of His Britannic Majesty's Government, made a point of arraigning beaten Generals, in default of traitorous Generals, the latter taking good care not to stand their trial. Not that a beaten General," Brotteaux would add, "is necessarily criminal, for in the nature of things there must be one in every battle. But there's nothing like condemning a General to death for giving encouragement to others."