say that the representatives
of the French people remind him of the Roman Tiberius and Sejanus."
The motion was adopted, and the Assembly decided that M. Calvet should
pass three days in prison. M. de Jaucourt threatened to cudgel Chabot,
and the ex-friar, ascending the tribune, said: "I think it was very
cowardly on the part of a colonel to offer to cane a Capuchin." The
Assembly, having passed an order of the day concerning this incident,
decreed that "there was reason for an accusation against M. Cosse,
styled Brissac, and that his papers should be sealed up at once."

The King and Queen, awakened in the middle of the night by these
tidings, besought Brissac to make {145} his escape, and provided him
with the means. The Duke refused, and instead of trying to assure his
safety, sat down to write a long letter to Madame du Barry. At first
Louis XVI. wished to veto this decree, as was his duty, but his
ministers dissuaded him. They reminded him of the October Days, and
the weak monarch, alarmed on account of his family, if not on his own,
sacrificed his Constitutional Guard and also the brave servitor who
commanded it. Speaking to M. d'Aubier, one of the ordinary gentlemen
of the King's bedchamber, the Queen said: "I tremble lest the King's
guard should think the honor of the corps compromised by their
disarmament."--"Doubtless, Madame, that corps would have preferred to
die at the feet of Your Majesties."--"Yes," replied the Queen, "but the
few partisans who still adhere to the King in the Assembly counsel him
to sanction the decree disbanding them, and to disregard their advice
is to run the risk of losing them." While the Queen was yet speaking,
a man approached under pretence of asking alms. "You see," said she to
M. d'Aubier, "there is no place and no time when I am free from spies."

The Constitutional Guard were sent as prisoners to the Ecole Militaire
between a double file of National Guards, and forced to surrender their
weapons. By a sort of fatality Louis XVI. was led to disarm himself,
to spike his cannons, tear down his flags, and dismantle his
fortresses. By dint of approaching too near the fatal declivity of
concessions, {146} he ended by losing even his dignity as man and King.
He was paralyzed, annihilated by the Assembly, which treated him like a
hostage, a conquered man, and which struck down, one after another, the
last defenders of the monarchy and of public order. The fate of the
Const