demned or the republic is not acquitted. To propose to arraign Louis XVI. is to put the revolution on its trial. If he may be tried, he may be acquitted: if he may be acquitted, he may be innocent: and if he is innocent, what becomes of the revolution? If he be innocent, what shall be said of us? Shall we not be in a tarnation queer fix?"

The king was brought to the bar of the convention. He was arraigned. And though the experienced skill of the venerable Malesherbes, the indefatigable industry and brilliant talents of Tronchet, and the surpassing eloquence of Desèze were employed in his defence, they were all in vain. The accused was prejudged; the victim was doomed, beforehand, to the slaughter. The Girondists, alone, seemed disposed to listen to the defence; they, alone, showed any willingness to allow the trial to be anything more than what in fact it was-a barefaced sham. But their want of resolution, as the Jacobins termed it, being observed by them,

Saint Just had recourse to the dilemma suggested by Robespierre. He balanced, as it were, the prisoner against his judges by a sort of ad hominem argument, which perfectly succeeded, for, as the majority of the convention were liberals of the first water, nothing was half so convincing with them as what affected their darling idol-self. He thus put it, truly enough, "If the king be innocent, the people are guilty. You want a republic; and the republic only begins when the tyrant ends."

This brought the waverers to the point: they must either condemn the king, or condemn themselves: no one, then, having the slightest knowledge of the liberal idiosyncracy, could doubt for a moment what the result would be.

It therefore was accordingly.

Only a few hours elapsed after his condemnation, before Louis was brought to the guillotine. He asked for a longer respite, that he might engage in religious exercises,

and prayer to God; but it was denied him; for his enemies had no more ideas of God and religion, than they had of monarchy itself.

The king was thus released from a wearisome captivity; and truly wearisome must that captivity have been. Deprived of his kingdom; separated from his family, (though in the same prison;) debarred the use of the most trifling articles of personal convenience, even to his dressing-case; not allowed a single change of apparel, nor even a sufficiency of food; subjected to insults, from which common humanity protects the most atrocious felons; and made to endure every kind of vexation, both of body and mind, which the barbarity of his gaolors, or the unbridled and inexplicable malice of his liberal enemies could suggest; he must indeed have felt that the world had lost all its attractions and life itself its every charm.

CHAP. XL.

More French Liberalism.

THE Convention was divided into three sections: the Gironde, the Marais, and the Mountain. The Gironde were the Members returned from the department of that name, and were the heads of the Girondist body. They occupied the right side of the assembly, if indeed, there was any right side at call. The Marais, or the Plain, sat in the middle. They were neutrals being neither mountain nor valley. The Mountain, was formed of men espousing the principles of the Cordeliers and Jacobin Clubs. Staunch to their first resolve, they persisted in getting as near as possible to the apex of legislation. They wished to be tip-toppers in

everything; and, in token thereof, they took possession of the top benches on the left of the house. Julien had a very dignified opinion of these elevated sedilia; for, said he, pointing to them on one occasion: "I inhabit the hills: they will be the Thermopyle of the people."..

These various parties, after the slaughter of the king, agreed in nothing but in hating each other. The Gironde knew that whatever they might propose would not satisfy the Mountain; while, on the other hand, the Mountain despised the Girondists for being such slow coaches. Hence it need be no cause for wonder, when we observe that the Jacobinical liberalism, which had been for a long time very tyrannical, now displayed itself as the exaggeration of despotism. So it was "much would have more;" and Marat, the advocate for the abolition of capital punishment, loudly asserted that two hundred and sixty thousand heads more must fall!! or else democracy would !!! Here was a choice for a republican people.