Here I observed all the National Assembly marching round a great altar erected to Voltaire; there was his statue in triumph, and the fishwomen with garlands decking it, and singing "Ca ira!" I could bear the sight no longer; but rushed upon these pagans, and sacrificed them by dozens on the spot.

The members of the Assembly, and the fishwomen, continued to invoke their great Voltaire, and all their masters in this monument _de grands hommes_, imploring them to come down and succour them against the Aristocrats and the sword of Munchausen.

Their cries were horrible, like the shrieks of witches and enchanters versed in magic and the black art, while the thunder growled, and storms shook the battlements, and Rousseau, Voltaire, and Beelzebub appeared, three horrible spectres; one all meagre, mere skin and bone, and cadaverous, seemed death, that hideous skeleton; it was Voltaire, and in his hand were a lyre and a dagger.

On the other side was Rousseau, with a chalice of sweet poison in his hand, and between them was their father Beelzebub! I shuddered at the sight, and with all the enthusiasm of rage, horror, and piety, rushed in among them.

I seized that cursed skeleton Voltaire, and soon compelled him to renounce all the errors he had advanced; and while he spoke the words, as if by magic charm, the whole assembly shrieked, and the pandemonium began to tumble in hideous ruin on their heads.
I returned in triumph to the palace, where the Queen rushed into my arms, weeping tenderly.