Forced back on this side， the unhappy Convention turns to the left， passes through the archway， follows the broad avenue through the garden， and advances to the Pont-Tournant to find an outlet. There is no outlet； the bridge is raised， and everywhere the barrier of pikes and bayonets remains impenetrable； shouts of "Vive la Montagne！ vive Marat！ To the guillotine with Brissot， Vergniaud， Guadet and Gensonné！
Away with bad blood！" greet the deputies on all sides， and the Convention， similar to a flock of sheep， in vain turns round and round in its pen. At this moment， to get them back into the fold， Marat， like a barking dog， runs up as fast as his short legs will allow， followed by his troop of tatterdemalions， and exclaims： "Let all loyal deputies return to their posts！" With bowed heads， they mechanically return to the hall； it is immediately closed， and they are once more in confinement. To assist them in their deliberations a crowd of the well-disposed entered pell-mell along with them. To watch them and hurry on the matter， the sans-culottes， with fixed bayonets， gesticulate and threaten them from the galleries. Outside and inside， necessity， with its iron hand， has seized them and holds them fast.
There is a dead silence. Couthon， a paralytic， tries to stand up； his friends carry him in their arms to the tribune； an intimate friend of Robespierre's， he is a grave and important personage； he sits down， and in his mild tone of voice， he speaks： "Citizens， all members of the Convention must now be satisfied of their *******. . . . You are now aware that there is no restraint on your deliberations."[166]
The comedy is at an end. Even in Molière there is none like it. The sentimental cripple in the tribune winds up by demanding that the Twenty-two， the Twelve， and the Ministers， Clavière and Lebrun be placed in arrest. Nobody opposes the motion，[167] "because physical necessities begin to be felt， and an impression of terror pervades the Assembly." Several say to themselves， "Well， after all， those who are proscribed will be as well off at home， where they will be safe. . . .
It is better to put up with a lesser evil than encounter a greater one." Another exclaims： "It is better not to vote than to betray one's trust." The salvo being found， all consciences are easy. Two-thirds of the Assembly declare that they will no longer take part in the discussions， hold aloof； and remain in their seats at each calling of the vote. With the exception of about fifty members of the "Right，"who rise on the side of the Girondists， the "Mountain，" whose forces are increased by the insurgents and amateurs sitting fraternally in its midst， alone votes for， and finally passes the decree. -- Now that the Convention has mutilated itself； it is check-mated， and is about to become a governing machine in the service of a clique； the Jacobin conquest is completed， and in the hands of the victors， the grand operations of the guillotine are going to commence.
VIII. Right or Wrong， my Country.
Character of the new governors. - Why France accepted them.
Let us observe them at this decisive moment. I doubt if any such contrast ever presented itself in any country or in any age. - Through a series of purifications in an inverse sense， the faction has become reduced to its dregs； nothing remains of the vast surging wave of 1789but its froth and its slime； the rest has been cast off or has withdrawn to one side； at first the highest class， the clergy， the nobles， and the parliamentarians； next the middle class of traders， manufacturers， and the bourgeois； and finally the best of the inferior class， small proprietors， farmers，[168] and master-workmen -- in short， the prominent in every pursuit， profession， state， or occupation， whoever possesses capital， a revenue， an establishment， respectability， public esteem， education and mental and moral culture.
The party in June， 1793， is composed of little more than unreliable workmen， town and country vagabonds， the habitués of hospices[169]， sluts of the gutter， degraded and dangerous persons，[170] the déclassé， the corrupt， the perverted， the maniacs of all sorts. In Paris， from which they command the rest of France， their troop， an insignificant minority， is recruited from that refuse of humanity infesting all capitals， amongst the epileptic and scrofulous rabble which， heirs of vitiated blood and， further degrading this by its misconduct， introduces into civilization the degeneracy， imbecility， and infatuations of shattered temperaments， retrograde instincts， and deformed brains.[171] What it did with the powers of the State is narrated by three or four contemporary witnesses； we see it face to face， in itself， and in its chiefs， we contemplate the true nature of the men of action and of enterprise who have led the last attack and who represent it the best.
Since the 2nd of June "nearly one-half of the deputies in the Convention refrain from taking any part in its deliberations； more than one hundred and fifty have even fled or disappeared[172]"； the silent， the fugitives， the incarcerated， and the convicted， all this has been accomplished by the party. On the evening of June 2nd its bosom friend， its conscience， the filthy monstrosity， charlatan， monomaniac and murderer， who regularly every morning， effuses his political poison into its bosom， Marat， has at last obtained the discretionary powers craved by him for the last four years， that of Marius and Sylla， that of Octavius， Antony， and Lepidus； the power of adding or removing names from lists of proscription：
"while the reading was going on he indicated cancellations or additions， the secretary effacing or adding names as he suggested them， without any consultation whatever with the Assembly."[173]