wives to our hearts without a prayer. Priests, throw aside your frocks, turn up your sleeves, lay your hands upon the plow; for a song to the lark in the morning air is better than a mumbling of psalms; and an ode to sparkling wine is preferable to a chanting of hymns. Our dogs, which used only to growl when a bishop passed, will bite him now; and not a voice will be raised to curse the day which dawns for the sacrifice of the Archbishop of Paris. We owe it to ourselves—we owe it to the world. The Commune has promised us an eye for an eye, and has given us Monseigneur Darboy as a hostage. The justice of the tribunals shall commence, said Danton, when the wrath of the people is appeased—and he was right. Darboy! tremble in your cell, for your day is past; your end is close at hand."
The Communists' writers published such documents as
the above, and the masses were harangued by club orators
in the following strain: "Down with the proprietors!
Let us thank heaven that most of them are gone—having
fled like cowards before the gathering anger of the people.
Let their property be sequestered for the universal good;
let their houses be sold, and the money divided among
the working classes. We are poor and hungry. Shall
our wives be forced upon the streets, and our brothers
driven to robbery for the sake of our starving little ones?
No! let us take possession of the palaces that seem to
smile at our woe; let us seize the goods of the masters
that are away, and even take their wives and children as
hostages in case of further need."
The official organ of the Commune published a decree suppressing all night-work in bakeries, also one re-establishing the practice of sending letters by balloon, and organizing a system of civil and military aëronautics.
On the proposition of Citizen Delescluze, the Commune
