Petion was the son of a procureur at Chartres, and a townsman of Brissot; was brought up in the same way as he,—­in the same studies, same philosophy, same hatreds.  They were two men of the same mind.  The Revolution, which had been the ideal of their youth, had called them on the scene the same day, but to play very different parts.  Brissot, the scribe, political adventurer, journalist, was the man of theory; Petion, the practical man.  He had in his countenance, in his character, and his talents, that solemn mediocrity which is of the multitude, and charms it; at least he was a sincere man, a virtue which the people appreciate beyond all others in those who are concerned in public affairs.  Called by his fellow citizens to the National Assembly, he acquired there a name rather from his efforts than his success.  The fortunate compeer of Robespierre, and then his friend, they had formed by themselves that popular party, scarcely visible at the beginning, which professed pure democracy and the philosophy of J. J. Rousseau; whilst Cazales, Mirabeau, and Maury, the nobility, clergy, and bourgeoisie, alone disputed the government.  The despotism of a class appeared to Robespierre and Petion as odious as the despotism of a king.  The triumph of the tiers etat was of little consequence, so long as the people, that is to say, all human kind in its widest acceptation, did not prevail.  They had given themselves as a task, not victory to one class over another, but the victory and organisation of a divine and absolute principle—­humanity.  This was their weakness in the first days of the Revolution, and subsequently their strength.  Petion was beginning to gather in its harvest.

He had gradually, by his doctrines and his speeches, insinuated himself into the confidence of the people of Paris; he connected himself with literary men by the cultivation of his mind; with the Orleans party by his intimacy with Madame de Genlis, the favourite of the prince, and governess to his children.  He was spoken of in one place as a sage, who sought to embody philosophy in the constitution; in another as a sagacious conspirator, who desired to sap the throne, or to place upon it the Duc D’Orleans, embodying the interests and dynasty of the people.  This two-fold reputation was equally advantageous to him.  Honest men believed him to be an honest man,—­malcontents to be a malcontent:  the court disdained to fear him; it saw in him only an innocent Utopian, and had for him that contemptuous indulgence which aristocrats have invariably for men of political creed; besides, Petion ridded it of La Fayette.  To change its foe was to give it breathing time.

These three elements of success gave Petion an immense majority; he was nominated mayor of Paris by more than 6000 votes.  La Fayette had but 3000.  He might at this moment, from the depth of his retreat, have fairly measured by these figures the decline of his popularity.  La Fayette represented the city, Petion the nation.  The armed bourgeoisie quitted public affairs with the one, and the people assumed them with the other.  The Revolution marked with a proper name the fresh step she had made.