it,” said he.  Feeble applause showed that the republican allusion of Bazire had been comprehended, and that above all, it was necessary to remove a king and generals whose fidelity was suspected.  “No, no,” returned Mailhe, “do not lose an hour in decreeing the liberty of the whole world.”  “Extinguish the torches of your disagreements in the blaze of your cannon, and the glitter of your bayonets,” added Dubayet.  “Let the report be made instantly,” demanded Brissot.  “Declare war against kings, and peace to all nations,” cried Merlin.  The war was voted.

Condorcet, who had been informed already of this by the Girondists of the council, read in the tribune a proposed manifesto to the nations.  The following was its substance:  “Every nation has the right of giving itself laws, and of altering them at pleasure.  The French nation had every reason to believe that these simple truths would obtain the assent of all princes.  This hope has not been fulfilled.  A league has been formed against its independence; and never did the pride of thrones more audaciously insult the majesty of nations.  The motives alleged by despots against France are but an outrage to her liberty.  This insulting pride, far from intimidating her, serves only to excite her courage.  It requires time to discipline the slaves of despotism; every man is a soldier when he combats against tyranny.”

VIII.

But the principal orator of the Gironde mounted the tribune the last.  “You owe it to the nation,” said Vergniaud, “to employ every means to assure the success of the great and terrible determination by which you have signalised this memorable day.  Remember the hour of that general federation when all Frenchmen devoted their life to the defence of liberty and the constitution.  Remember the oath which you have taken on the 14th of January, to bury yourselves beneath the ruins of the temple rather than consent to a capitulation, or to the least modification in the constitution.  Where is the icy heart that does not palpitate in these important moments—­the grovelling soul that does not elevate itself (I venture to utter the words) to heaven amidst these acclamations of universal joy; the apathetic man who does not feel his whole being penetrated and his forces raised by a noble enthusiasm far above the common force of the human race?  Give to France, to Europe, the imposing spectacle of these national fetes.  Reanimate that energy before which the Bastille fell.  Let every part of the empire resound with these sublime words:  ’To live free or die!  The entire constitution without any modification, or death!’ Let these cries reach even the thrones that have leagued against you; let them learn that it is useless to reckon upon our internal dissensions; that when our country is in danger, we are animated by one passion alone—­that of saving her, or of perishing for her; in a word, should fortune prove false to so just a cause as ours, our enemies might insult our lifeless corpses, but never shall one Frenchman wear their fetters.”