the agitated
metropolis. It was the retirement of a philosopher proud of the gloom
of his garret. But M. Roland and wife were more powerful now than ever
before. The famous letter had placed them in the front ranks of the
friends of reform, and enshrined them in the hearts of the ever fickle
populace. Even the Jacobins were compelled to swell the universal
voice of commendation. M. Roland's apartments were ever thronged. All
important plans were discussed and shaped by him and his wife before
they were presented in the Assembly.

There was a young statesman then in Paris named Barbaroux, of
remarkable beauty of person, and of the richest mental endowments. The
elegance of his stature and the pensive melancholy of his classic
features invested him with a peculiar power of fascination. Between
him and Madame Roland there existed the most pure, though the
strongest friendship. One day he was sitting with M. Roland and wife,
in social conference upon the desperate troubles of the times, when
the dismissed minister said to him, "What is to be done to save
France? There is no army upon which we can rely to resist invasion.
Unless we can circumvent the plots of the court, all we have gained is
lost. In six weeks the Austrians will be at Paris. Have we, then,
labored at the most glorious of revolutions for so many years, to see
it overthrown in a single day? If liberty dies in France, it is lost
forever to mankind. All the hopes of philosophy are deceived.
Prejudice and tyranny will again grasp the world. Let us prevent this
misfortune. If the armies of despotism overrun the north of France,
let us retire to the southern provinces, and there establish a
_republic_ of freemen."

The tears glistened in the eyes of his wife as she listened to this
bold proposal, so heroic in its conception, so full of hazard, and
demanding such miracles of self-sacrifice and devotion. Madame Roland,
who perhaps originally suggested the idea to her husband, urged it
with all her impassioned energy. Barbaroux was just the man to have
his whole soul inflamed by an enterprise of such grandeur. He drew a
rapid sketch of the resources and hopes of liberty in the south, and,
taking a map, traced the limits of the republic, from the Doubs, the
Aire, and the Rhone, to La Dordogne; and from the inaccessible
mountains of Auvergne, to Durance and the sea. A serene joy passed
over the features of the three, thus quietly originating a plan which
was, with an