e gives
way to them, it is only no further than he can help, and with a bad
grace. In the rue Saintonge in Paris, "for seven months," says his
secretary,[31105] "I knew of but one woman that he kept company with,
and he did not treat her very well. .. very often he would not let her
enter his room": when busy, he must not be disturbed. He is naturally
steady, hard-working, studious and fond of seclusion, at college a model
pupil, at home in his province an attentive advocate, a punctual deputy
in the Assembly, everywhere free of temptation and incapable of going
astray.--"Irreproachable" is the word which from early youth an
inward voice constantly repeats to him in low tones to console him for
obscurity and patience. Thus has he ever been, is now, and ever will be;
he says this to himself, tells others so, and on this foundation, all of
a piece, he builds up his character. He is not, like Desmoulins, to be
seduced by dinners, like Barnave, by flattery, like Mirabeau and Danton,
by money, like the Girondists, by the insinuating charm of ancient
politeness and select society, like the Dantonists, by the bait of
joviality and unbounded license--he is the incorruptible. He is not
to be deterred or diverted, like the Feuillants, Girondists, and
Dantonists, like statesmen or specialists, by considerations of a lower
order, by regard for interests or respect for acquired positions, by
the danger of undertaking too much at once, by the necessity of not
disorganizing the service and of giving play to human passions, motives
of utility and opportunity: he is the uncompromising champion of the
right.[31106] "Alone, or nearly alone, I do not allow myself to be
corrupted; alone or nearly alone, I do not compromise justice; which two
merits I possess in the highest degree. A few others may live correctly,
but they oppose or betray principles; a few others profess to have
principles, but they do not live correctly. No one else leads so pure
a life or is so loyal to principles; no one else joins to so fervent a
worship of truth so strict a practice of virtue: I am the unique."--What
can be more agreeable than this mute soliloquy? From the very first day
it can be heard toned down in Robespierre's address to the Third-Estate
of Arras;[31107] the last day it is spoken aloud in his great speech
in the Convention;[31108] during the interval, it crops out and shines
through all his compositions, harangues, or reports, in exordiums,
parenthe