only at the danger, and every one sided with or opposed the restrictive
law, according to his mode of viewing the subject. Those who desired the
law, wished it to be mild; but only one law could be practicable at such a
moment, and the assembly shrank from enacting it. This law, by the
arbitrary order of a committee of three members, was to pronounce a
sentence of civil death on the fugitive, and the confiscation of his
property. "The horror expressed on the reading of this project," cried
Mirabeau, "proves that this is a law worthy of being placed in the code of
Draco, and cannot find place among the decrees of the national assembly of
France. I proclaim that I shall consider myself released from every oath
of fidelity I have made towards those who may be infamous enough to
nominate a dictatorial commission. The popularity I covet, and which I
have the honour to enjoy, is not a feeble reed; I wish it to take root in
the soil, based on justice and liberty." The exterior position was not yet
sufficiently alarming for the adoption of such a measure of safety and
revolutionary defence.

Mirabeau did not long enjoy the popularity which he imagined he was so
sure of. That was the last sitting he attended. A few days afterwards he
terminated a life worn out by passions and by toil. His death, which
happened on the 2nd of March, 1791, was considered a public calamity; all
Paris attended his funeral; there was a general mourning throughout
France, and his remains were deposited in the receptacle which had just
been consecrated _aux grands hommes_, in the name of _la patrie
reconnaissante_. No one succeeded him in power and popularity; and for a
long time, in difficult discussions, the eyes of the assembly would turn
towards the seat from whence they had been accustomed to hear the
commanding eloquence which terminated their debates. Mirabeau, after
having assisted the revolution with his daring in seasons of trial, and
with his powerful reasoning since its victory, died seasonably. He was