clesiastics whose
behavior he honored. Dumouriez afflicted him still further, when, in
entreating him to yield, he asked why he had sanctioned, at the close
of 1790, the decree obliging the clergy to take oath to the civil
constitution of the clergy. "Sire," said he, "you sanctioned the
decree for the priests' oath, and it is to that your veto must be
applied. If I had been one of your counsellors at the time, I would,
at the risk of my life, have advised you to refuse your sanction. Now
my opinion is that having, as I dare to say, committed the fault of
approving this decree, which has produced enormous evils, your veto, if
you apply it to the second decree, which may arrest the deluge of blood
ready to flow, will burden your conscience with all the crimes to which
the people are tending." Never had a sovereign's conscience been a
prey to similar perplexities. Louis XVI. seemed crushed beneath an
irresistible {151} fatality. The Tuileries, haunted night and day by
the spectre of Charles I., assumed a dismal air. At this period a sort
of stupor characterized the countenance, the gait, and even the silence
of the future victim of January 21. He no longer spoke; one might say
he no longer thought. He seemed prostrated, petrified.

A rumor got about that he had become almost imbecile through care and
trouble, so much so that he did not recognize his son, but on seeing
him approach, had asked: "What child is that?" It was added that while
out walking he caught sight of the steeple of Saint Denis from the top
of the hill, and cried out: "That is where I shall be on my birthday."
He had been so calumniated, so misunderstood, so outraged, that not
merely his crown but his existence had become an intolerable burden to
him. His throne and his life alike disgusted him. He was no longer a
King, but only the ghost of one.

Madame Campan thus describes him: "At this period the King fell into a
discouragement amounting to physical prostration. For ten days
together he never uttered a word, even in the bosom of his family,
except when the game of backgammon, which he played with Madame
Elisabeth after dinner, obliged him to pronounce some indispensable
words. The Queen drew him out of this condition, so fatal at a
critical time when every minute may necessitate action, by throwing
herself at his feet and addressing him sometimes in words intended only
to frighten him, {152} and at others expressing her affection for hi