heart inclined him to amiability. Perplexed as he was to harmonise all this, he became truly null. I seem now to see him strutting, courtier-fashion, on his heels, his head erect on his feeble body, showing the whites of his blue eyes, which he could never keep open after dinner without the aid of two or three cups of coffee; speaking little, as if from reserve, but really because he had nothing to say; lastly, so completely losing his head in the midst of affairs that he had to send in his resignation." The able and conscientious Servan, Madame Roland's own choice, replaced him in office.
Charles V., in his retreat having vainly tried to make several watches keep time, railed at his former folly for wishing to regulate an Empire's course. Madame Roland, called from privacy to take part in public affairs at a most momentous crisis, now discovered with dismay how difficult it was for a small knot of men to act in concert, even when agreed as to principles. She was equally struck by the scarcity of men whose "energy of soul, solidity of judgment, and extensive views," might entitle them to be called great. Although she never abated by a jot her devotion to the cause, we henceforth find a considerable change in her tone, hitherto so glowing, and in her appreciation of the leaders of the Revolution. Seeing so closely the wheels of the political machine, and the actors that worked it, she shuddered at their want of union, and asked herself where was the man of sufficiently commanding political genius to weld together these heterogeneous elements. Her sex precluded her, unfortunately, from taking a share in the actual political struggle; otherwise, with her knowledge of men, her practical sagacity, her singleness of purpose, heir magnetic personality, she might herself have be-
