with huge crash, and, next moment, is pointing westward! Thus Marat, absolved and applauded, victorious in this turn of fence, is, as the Debate goes on, prickt at again by some dexterous Girondin; and then the shrieks rise anew, and Decree of Accusation is on the point of passing; till the dingy People's-Friend bobs aloft once more; croaks once more persuasive stillness, and the Decree of Accusation sinks. Whereupon he draws forth—a Pistol; and setting it to his Head, the seat of such thought and prophecy, says: 'If they had passed their Accusation Decree, he, the People's-Friend, would have blown his brains out.' A People's-Friend has that faculty in him. For the rest, as to this of the two-hundred and sixty-thousand Aristocrat Heads, Marat candidly says, 'C'est là mon avis, Such is my opinion.' Also is it not indisputable: 'No power on Earth can prevent me from seeing into traitors, and unmasking them,'—by my superior originality of mind?[1] An honourable member like this Friend of the People few terrestrial Parliaments have had.
We observe, however, that this first onslaught by the Friends of Order, as sharp and prompt as it was, has failed. For neither can Robespierre, summoned out by talk of Dictatorship, and greeted with the like rumour on showing himself, be thrown into Prison, into Accusation; not though Barbaroux openly bear testimony against him, and sign it on paper. With such sanctified meekness does the Incorruptible lift his seagreen cheek to the smiter; lift his thin voice, and with Jesuitic dexterity plead, and prosper; asking at last, in a prosperous manner: 'But what witnesses has the Citoyen Barbaroux to support his testimony?' 'Moi!' cries hot Rebecqui, standing up, striking his breast with both hands, and answering 'Me!'[2] Nevertheless the Seagreen pleads again, and makes it good: the long hurly-burly, 'personal merely,' while
