des poudres et des salpètres, qui a mis Paris en prison et a interrompu la circulation de l'air avec un mur. . . ."
De Fourcroy spoke indignantly of Lavoisier's sentence: "L'homme qui auroit illustré son siècle par ses talens, qui auroit répandu ses lumières sur la société, dont les travaux auroient eu pour but d'instruire de rendre meilleurs et plus heureux les hommes, seroit placé dans un même tombeau avec celui qui en auroit fait le tourment ou qui en auriot été la honté!"
Yet De Fourcroy, De Morveau, Monge, and others who were his friends and pupils did nothing to save the head of their master. Jealousy—despicable jealousy—was the cause of these men forsaking their friend. "Sa supériorité," they confessed, stood in their way! They only talked, but did not act; and it is stated that De Fourcroy even contributed, by "sa terrible accusation," to the death of Lavoisier.
Petitions for the commutation of the death sentence were scornfully rejected. The Revolution knew no bounds—"away to the guillotine," "à la lanterne!" were the constant cries during the years of its existence. With tricoloured scarfs and Phrygian caps of crimson cloth they sang as they marched the streets of Paris that terrible song of the "Marseillaise":—
Allons, enfants de la patrie,
Le jour de gloire est arrivé!
Contre nous, de la tyrannic,
L'étendard sanglant est levé?
and the murderous levelling song "Ça Ira."
