was wanting in Louis; and such a want, at such a moment, could not be
supplied by any public or private virtues. If the king were set aside,
the abolition of kingship necessarily followed. In the state in which
the public mind then was, it would have been idle to think of doing what
our ancestors did in 1688, and what the French Chamber of Deputies did
in 1830. Such an attempt would have failed amidst universal derision and
execration. It would have disgusted all zealous men of all opinions; and
there were then few men who were not zealous. Parties fatigued by long
conflict, and instructed by the severe discipline of that school in
which alone mankind will learn, are disposed to listen to the voice of
a mediator. But when they are in their first heady youth, devoid
of experience, fresh for exertion, flushed with hope, burning with
animosity, they agree only in spurning out of their way the daysman who
strives to take his stand between them and to lay his hand upon them
both. Such was in 1792 the state of France. On one side was the great
name of the heir of Hugh Capet, the thirty-third king of the third
race; on the other side was the great name of the republic. There was
no rallying point save these two. It was necessary to make a choice;
and those, in our opinion, judged well who, waving for the moment all
subordinate questions, preferred independence to subjugation, and the
natal soil to the emigrant camp.

As to the abolition of royalty, and as to the vigorous prosecution of
the war, the whole Convention seemed to be united as one man. But a deep
and broad gulf separated the representative body into two great parties.

On one side were those statesmen who are called, from the name of the
department which some of them represented, the Girondists, and, from
the name of one of their most conspicuous leaders, the Brissotines.
In activity and practical ability, Brissot and Gensonne were the most
conspicuous among them. In parliamentary eloquence, no Frenchman of that
time can be considered as equal to Vergniaud. In a foreign country, and
after the lapse of half a century, some parts of his speeches are still
read with mournful admiration. No man, we are inclined to believe, ever
rose so rapidly to such a height of oratorical excellence. His whole
public life lasted barely two years. This is a circumstance which
distinguishes him from our own greatest speakers, Fox, Burke, Pitt,
Sheridan, Windham, Canning. Which of these