that the Egyptians
placed on the throne a flint, and called it their king. We smile at
the dog Barkouf, sent by an Asiatic despot to govern one of his
provinces.(*) But mon-archs of this kind are less mischievous and less
absurd than those before whom whole peoples prostrate themselves. The
flint and the dog at least imposed on nobody. None ascribed to them
qualities or characters they did not possess. They were not styled
'Father of the People,'--though this were hardly more ridiculous than
to give that title to a rattle-head whom inheritance crowns at eighteen.
Better a mute than an animate idol. Why, there can hardly be cited an
instance of a great man having children worthy of him, yet you will have
the royal function pass from father to son! As well declare that a wise
man's son will be wise. A king is an administrator, and an hereditary
administrator is as absurd as an author by birthright.

* See the first year of La Feuille Villageoise, No. 42.--
Author. [Cf. Montaigne's Essays, chap. xii.--_Editor._]

Royalty is thus as contrary to common sense as to com-mon right. But it
would be a plague even if no more than an absurdity; for a people who
can bow down in honor of a silly thing is a debased people. Can they be
fit for great affairs who render equal homage to vice and virtue, and
yield the same submission to ignorance and wisdom? Of all institutions,
none has caused more intellectual degeneracy. This explains the
often-remarked abjectness of character under monarchies.

Such is also the effect of this contagious institution that it renders
equality impossible, and draws in its train the presumption and the
evils of "Nobility." If you admit inheritance of an office, why not that
of a distinction? The Nobility's heritage asks only homage, that of
the Crown commands submission. When a man says to me, 'I am born
illustrious,' I merely smile; when he says 'I am born your master,' I
set my foot on him.

When the Convention pronounced the abolition of Royalty none rose
for the defence that was expected. On this subject a philosopher, who
thought discussion should always precede enactment, proposed a singular
thing; he desired that the Convention should nominate an orator
commissioned to plead before it the cause of Royalty, so that the
pitiful arguments by which it has in all ages been justified might
appear in broad daylight. Judges give one accused, however certain
his guilt, an official defender. In