nquest as the very easy and not very delicate lover
in Congreve's lively song valued the conquest of a prostitute of a
different kind. Barere was, like Chloe, false and common; but he was,
like Chloe, constant while possessed; and they asked no more. They
needed a service which he was perfectly competent to perform. Destitute
as he was of all the talents both of an active and of a speculative
statesman, he could with great facility draw up a report, or make a
speech on any subject and on any side. If other people would furnish
facts and thoughts, he could always furnish phrases; and this talent was
absolutely at the command of his owners for the time being. Nor had
he excited any angry passion among those to whom he had hitherto been
opposed. They felt no more hatred to him than they felt to the horses
which dragged the cannon of the Duke of Brunswick and of the Prince
of Saxe-Coburg. The horses had only done according to their kind, and
would, if they fell into the hands of the French, drag with equal vigour
and equal docility the guns of the republic, and therefore ought not
merely to be spared, but to be well fed and curried. So was it with
Barere. He was of a nature so low, that it might be doubted whether he
could properly be an object of the hostility of reasonable beings.
He had not been an enemy; he was not now a friend. But he had been an
annoyance; and he would now be a help.

But, though the heads of the Mountain pardoned this man, and admitted
him into partnership with themselves, it was not without exacting
pledges such as made it impossible for him, false and fickle as he was,
ever again to find admission into the ranks which he had deserted. That
was truly a terrible sacrament by which they admitted the apostate into
their communion. They demanded of him that he should himself take the
most prominent part in murdering his old friends. To refuse was as much
as his life was worth. But what is life worth when it is only one long
agony of remorse and shame? These, however, are feelings of which it
is idle to talk, when we are considering the conduct of such a man
as Barere. He undertook the task, mounted the tribune, and told the
Convention that the time was come for taking the stern attitude of
justice, and for striking at all conspirators without distinction. He
then moved that Buzot, Barbaroux, Petion, and thirteen other deputies,
should be placed out of the pale of the law, or, in other words,
beheaded wi