tionary chiefs, Danton, Marat, Robespierre. The last, as often before, had kept personally aloof from a movement which he may have deplored, but of which he was now appropriating the advantages. The Girondins, so far from imitating this crafty, or statesman-like, policy, raised the hue and cry against the Septemberers. Madame Roland, who in her girlhood had endured an agony of pity at the racking of two criminals, now suffered tortures at this desecration which liberty had undergone. Burning with indignation, she exhorted her husband to protest against these "abominable crimes," to appeal to the Assembly to put a stop to further repetitions, and clear himself of the dishonour of tolerating them by his silence, should it be at the risk of himself being struck by the dagger of assassins. Already, on the 3rd of September, Roland addressed a remonstrance to the Assembly, couched in terms which seem very mild compared to the searing denunciations in his wife's Memoirs. Yet this address was everywhere applauded as a miracle of courage. Too conclusive proof that Terror, like the Sword of Damocles, was already suspended above the heads of the Parisians, and that, for fear of being suspected of Moderatism, the population was satisfied to let the most violent take the lead. Roland's letter had been hailed with delight by the Assembly, who ordered its publication and dissemination in the provinces.
Proclamations and addresses were of little avail, however, unless they could be reinforced by decisive measures. These decisive measures, for which the executive had no force at command, Roland had not the daring to take. One way, and one only, remained open, by which the Ministry could still have
