or deposition. It was proposed that a petition to that effect should be drawn up, signed by thousands on the Champs de Mars, and sent up to the Assembly. It was from the Jacobin Club that the cry for the déchéance rose most unanimously. Strange, impressive sight this, of a club of Revolutionists holding their debates in the church of a former Jacobin monastery, whence this new order of a Church Militant took its name. On the 13th of July a promiscuous crowd from the Palais Royal, and other centres of agitation, was closely packed in the sombre, ill-lighted vault, where, pre-eminent among tombs of buried monks, was a monument to Campanella, the great sixteenth-century apostle of religious liberty, whose spiritual presence there was a kind of consecration. Brissot seemed to grow with the moment, and in a memorable burst of eloquence carried the whole assembly with him.
Brissot, without absolutely attacking the monarchical principle, insisted on the necessity of the King's deposition, and ended by reassuring public opinion on the dangers which threatened France from without by a luminous exposition of the critical state of Europe. Madame Roland, who was present, describes the solemnity of this meeting, "when they all, with inexpressible enthusiasm—kneeling on the ground and with drawn swords—renewed their oaths to live free or to die." And, describing Brissot's extraordinary success, she exclaims: "At last I have seen the fire of liberty lit in my country; it cannot be quenched again . . . I shall end my days when it pleases nature. My last breath will still be a sigh of joy and hope for the generations to succeed us."
The outcome of this meeting was a monster petition
