be fatal to the republic; and she infused distrust of Dumouriez into the mind of her allies.  The king invariably adjourned the sanction which the Girondists demanded from him to the crimes against the priests and emigres.  Foreseeing that they would be called upon, sooner or later, to give an account of their responsibility to the nation, Madame Roland wished to take precautionary measures.  She persuaded her husband to write a confidential letter to the king, full of the most strict lessons of patriotism; to read it himself in council to loyal princes; and to keep a copy, which he would publish at the proper time as an accusation against Louis XVI. and a justification of himself.  This treacherous precaution against the perfidy of the court was odious as a snare and cowardly a denunciation.  Passion only, which disturbs the sight of the soul, could blind a generous-minded woman as to the meaning of such an act; but party feeling supplies the place of generosity, justice, and even of virtue.  This letter was a concealed weapon, with which Roland reserved to himself the power of mortally wounding the reputation of the king whilst he saved his own.  This was his only crime, or rather the only error of his hate; and this was the only cause for remorse he felt at the foot of the scaffold.

XVI.

“Sire,” said Roland in this celebrated letter, “things cannot remain in their present state; it is a state of crises, and we must be extricated from it by some extreme measure (une explosion quelconque).  France has given itself a constitution; the minority are undermining, the majority are defending, it.  There arises a fierce internal struggle in which no person remains neuter.  You enjoyed supreme power, and could not have laid it down without regret.  The enemies of the Revolution took into calculation the sentiments they presume you entertain.  Your secret favour is their strength.  Ought you now to ally yourself to the enemies or the friends of the constitution?  Pronounce once for all.  Royalty, clergy, nobility, aristocracy, must abhor these changes, which destroy them:  on the other hand, the people see the triumph of their rights in the Revolution and will not allow themselves to be despoiled.  The declaration of rights has become their new Gospel:  liberty is henceforth the religion of the people.  In this shock of opposing interests, all sentiments have become extreme—­opinions have assumed the accent of enthusiasm.  The country is no longer an abstraction, but a real being, to which we are attached by the happiness it promises to us, and the sacrifices we have made for it.  To what point will this patriotism be exalted at the moment now imminent, when the enemies’ forces without are about to combine with the intrigues within to assail it?  The rage of the nation will be terrible if it have not confidence in you.  But this confidence is not to be acquired by words, but