ANNUAL REGISTER, 1794. 



167 



but he H^ade them his own by ad- 

 ditional contrivance and arrange- 

 ment ; but principally by taking 

 possession, as it were, of the capa- 

 city of .others, and converting them 

 to his own purposes. This, a 

 most useful talent in a politician, 

 he possessed in an eminent degree. 

 Through this he reaped the fruits 

 of that plentiful harvest of talents 

 which produced the French revo- 

 lution, and which, in a nation more 

 aimple and virtuous, and less fiery 

 and presumptuous, might possibly 

 have rendered ft a source of natio- 

 nal benefits. 



But, notwithstanding this almost 

 instinctive perception he possess- 

 ed of the utility derivable from 

 others, and his dexterity in appro- 

 priating it to himself, his torpidity 

 on some occasions formed an inex- 

 plicable contrast. His defect of 

 ©bservation, and his want of pre- 

 sence of mind, were singular in 

 some instances where his interest 

 wa* alarmingly at stake. In one of 

 these he was saved from destruc- 

 tion by the fortunate interposition 

 of his party ; but the last proved 

 fatal. The first of these instances 

 occurred shortly after the meeting 

 of the Convention, when, through 

 inadvertence and vanity, he pror 

 voted that accusation of aspiring to 

 the dictatorship, whicli tlumder- 

 Struck him, from its truth, and from 

 the inability he felt to repel the 

 charge : it was urged against him 

 so forcibly, as to deprive him of 

 the power of speaking. The arti- 

 fice of his accomplices, and the in- 

 considerate lenity of his accusers, 

 preserved him from the sword of 

 justice, suspended over his guilty 

 head. But in thcla$t of these in- 

 ftances he seemed to have wholly 

 icliu<;iuished himself, and tp have 



laid totally aside that -spirit of fore- 

 sight and precaution which peculi- 

 arly characterized him o;i all occur- 

 ren<:es. Ha.d he been a lawful so- 

 vereign, reigning through his vir- 

 tues and beneficence in the hearts 

 of all his people, he could not on 

 that day, which decided his fate, 

 have acted with less caution and 

 more confidence. He repaired to 

 the Convention, unprepared to meet 

 those enemies who, he knew, were 

 awaiting hiiri. Though duly in- 

 formed of the designs in agitatioa 

 against him, he neglected to station 

 in the tributes those multitudes 

 whose noise and clamour were y/ont 

 to silence his adversaries, and to 

 render iiicffectual all the exertioos 

 and powers of their eloquence. 

 He had forgotten to call forth those 

 legions of ruffians that had so often' 

 struck terror, by their sudden pre- 

 sence and menaces, into those 

 members who were coming to the 

 Convention hostile to him. On 

 the very day that closed his last 

 scene, his partiz^ns were not in 

 readiness without dorrs ; and their 

 speeches within were the height of 

 imprudence. t)isorder and con- 

 fusion attended the whole of their 

 conduct ; in imitation, as it were, , 

 of their chief, who never appeared 

 sodeficient of capacity and courage, 

 the latter especially, -.as pn.'t'his 

 decisive day. His manifest want 

 of personal spirit, which on various 

 occasions appeared conspicuous, en- 

 tirely deranged his faculties, and 

 gave the finishing blow to all hope 

 ^nd exertion in his favour. 



Having contemplated Robes- ^ 

 pierre under so many points of ' 

 view, we come bstly to obsctvc 

 that he was egregiously deficient 

 in what is most esicntial in a poli- 

 tician, sound judgment and common 

 M 4 sense. 



