and shoes with silver
buckles. Such was his ordinary costume; and if we stick a rose in his
button-hole, or place a nosegay in his hand, we shall have a tolerable
idea of his whole equipment. It is said he sometimes appeared in
top-boots, which is not improbable; for this kind of boot had become
fashionable among the republicans, from a notion that as top-boots
were worn by gentlemen in England, they were allied to constitutional
government. Robespierre's features were sharp, and enlivened by bright
and deeply-sunk blue eyes. There was usually a gravity and intense
thoughtfulness in his countenance, which conveyed an idea of his being
thoroughly in earnest. Yet, his address was not unpleasing. Unlike
modern French politicians, his face was always smooth, with no vestige
of beard or whiskers. Altogether, therefore, he may be said to have
been a well-dressed, gentlemanly man, animated with proper
self-respect, and having no wish to court vulgar applause by
neglecting the decencies of polite society.

Before entering on his public career in Paris, Robespierre had
probably formed his plans, in which, at least to outward appearance,
there was an entire negation of self. A stern incorruptibility seemed
the basis of his character; and it is quite true that no offers from
the court, no overtures from associates, had power to tempt him. There
was only one way by which he could sustain a high-souled independence,
and that was the course adopted in like circumstances by Andrew
Marvel--simple wants, rigorous economy, a disregard of fine company,
an avoidance of expensive habits. Now, this is the curious thing in
Robespierre's history. Perhaps there was a tinge of pride in his
living a life of indigence; but in fairness it is entitled to be
called an honest pride, when we consider that the means of profusion
were within his reach. On his arrival in Paris, he procured a humble
lodging in the Marais, a populous district in the north-eastern
faubourgs; but it being represented to him some time afterwards, that,
as a public man, it was unsafe to expose himself in a long walk daily
to and from this obscure residence, he removed to a house in the Rue
St Honore, now marked No. 396, opposite the Church of the Assumption.
Here he found a lodging with M. Duplay, a respectable but humble
cabinet-maker, who had become attached to the principles of the
Revolution; and here he was joined by his brother, who played an
inferior part in public affa