"'If three months of uninterrupted silence has given me any claim to
your attention, I now ask it in the name of our afflicted country.
Were I to continue silent any longer, I should render myself as
culpable as those who never hold their tongues. I see we are all
sensible of the painfulness of our situation. Every day
dissatisfied with ourselves, we come to the debate with the
intention of doing something, and every day we return without having
done any thing. The people expect from us wise laws, and not storms
and tumults. How are we to make these wise laws, and keep
twenty-five millions of people quiet, when we, who are only seven
hundred and fifty individuals, give an example of perpetual riot and
disorder? What signifies our preaching the unity and indivisibility
of the republic, when we cannot maintain peace and union amongst
ourselves? What good can we expect to do amidst such scandalous
disturbances, and while we spend our time in attending to
informations, accusations, and inculpations, for the most part
utterly unfounded? For my part, I see but one means of attaining
any thing like dignity and tranquillity, and that is, by submitting
ourselves to coercive regulations.'"

Here follow some proposals, tending to establish a little decency in
their proceedings for the future; but the account from whence this
extract is taken proceeds to remark, that this invitation to peace
was no sooner finished, than a new scene of disturbance took place,
to the great loss of their time, and the scandal of all good
citizens. One should imagine, that if ever the Convention could
think it necessary to assume an appearance of dignity, or at least
of seriousness and order, it would be in giving their judgement
relative to the King. Yet, in determining how a series of questions