HIS PRINCIPLES AND CHARACTER. 389 
language and low wit, as suitable to his appearance, Robespiérre 
was attired as a modern dandy, and played the part of the king of 
the Sansculottes. 
Robespierre’s eloquence was as little calculated to command at- 
tention as his external appearance. The inexhaustible flow of grand 
and exalted ideas for which Mirabeau was distinguished, the attrac- 
tive energy with which Barrere spoke, and the masterly elocution of 
Vergniaud, were unknown to him. Robespiérre spoke with vio- 
lent gesture of manner, but in other respects without animation, 
occupying much time in delivering his sentiments, which were, on 
that account, not the less incomprehensible, and evincing but a 
scanty supply of thoughts, more attributable, it is presumed, to the 
predominance of some fixed ideas, than to ignorance or tardiness of 
percepticn ; and the events of the Revolution, as connected with 
himself, being the topic on which he dilated with tedious uniformity. 
He ranked only amongst the third or fourth-rate speakers whilst a 
member of the Constitutional Assembly. Yet, in perusing his 
speeches, we discover many passages exhibiting a high order of elo- 
quence, and discovering such astonishing penetration, as to the fu- 
ture state of the Republic, as to induce us to impute to stratagem 
and sinister views the obscurity in which he frequently involved his 
expressions, namely, that he might, in the first place, fatigue and 
confuse his auditors, and then, by bursting with the rapidity of 
lightning on their imaginations, rivet their attention with some 
novel proposition, which he would have failed to enforce by a less 
energetic appeal to their feelings and passions. 
Many clung to Robespierre with a degree of enthusiasm little 
removed from adoration ; but no one regarded him by the closer 
ties of esteem, or with the warmth of private friendship—feelings 
which he himself considered ephemeral, to be sported with in the 
game of life as occasion might suggest, but which were allowed no 
place within his own breast. He possessed sufficient power to in- 
flame the head, but the heart that approached him shrunk back 
wounded and alarmed by his chilling reserve. His sister’s letters,* 
found after his death, furnish melancholy proofs that the mind of 
that singular man, half maddened by strange notions respecting the 
organization of society, became utterly callous and indifferent to the 
pangs which he inflicted even on the susceptible feelings of a wo- 
man, her tenderest attachment being neither heeded nor understood. 
Fanaticism deadens the heart, as depravity blunts the senses. If, 
* Reports of Courtois. 
