wept
from the land. The Girondists paused in deep embarrassment. They could
not retrace their steps and try to re-establish the throne. The
endeavor would not only be utterly unavailing, but would, with
certainty, involve them in speedy and retrieveless ruin. They could
not unite with the Jacobins in their reckless onset upon every thing
which time had rendered venerable, and substitute for decency, and
law, and order, the capricious volitions of an insolent, ignorant, and
degraded mob. The only hope that remained for them was to struggle to
continue firm in the position which they had already assumed. It was
the only hope for France. The restoration of the monarchy was
impossible. The triumph of the Jacobins was ruin. Which of these two
parties in the Assembly shall array around its banners the millions of
the populace of France, now aroused to the full consciousness of
their power? Which can bid highest for the popular vote? Which can
pander most successfully to the popular palate? The Girondists had
talent, and integrity, and incorruptible patriotism. They foresaw
their peril, but they resolved to meet it, and, if they must perish,
to perish with their armor on. No one discerned this danger at an
earlier period than Madame Roland. She warned her friends of its
approach, even before they were conscious of the gulf to which they
were tending. She urged the adoption of precautionary measures, by
which a retreat might be effected when their post should be no longer
tenable. "I once thought," said Madame Roland, "that there were no
evils worse than regal despotism. I now see that there are other
calamities vastly more to be dreaded."

Robespierre, who had associated with the Girondists with rather a
sullen and Ishmaelitish spirit, holding himself in readiness to go
here or there, as events might indicate to be politic, began now to
incline toward the more popular party, of which he subsequently became
the inspiring demon. Though he was daily attracting more attention, he
had not yet risen to popularity. On one occasion, being accused of
advocating some unpopular measure, the clamors of the multitude were
raised against him, and vows of vengeance were uttered, loud and deep,
through the streets of Paris. His enemies in the Assembly took
advantage of this to bring an act of accusation against him, which
would relieve them of his presence by the decisive energy of the ax of
the guillotine. Robespierre's danger was most immi