Let us enter and see how this one proceeds. Thus encumbered， thus surrounded and agitated， does it take at least those precautions without which no assembly of men can govern itself. When several hundred persons assemble together for deliberation， it is evident that some sort of an internal police is necessary； first of all， some code of accepted usage， some written precedents， by which its acts may be prepared and defined， considered in detail， and properly passed. The best of these codes it ready to hand： at the request of Mirabeau， Romilly has sent over the standing orders of the English House of Commons.[3} But with the presumption of novices， they pay no attention to this code； they imagine it is needless for them； they will borrow nothing from foreigners； they accord no authority to experience， and， not content with rejecting the forms it prescribes， "it is with difficulty they can be made to follow any rule whatever." They leave the field open to the impulsiveness of individuals； any kind of influence， even that of a deputy， even of one elected by themselves， is suspected by them； hence their choice of a new president every fortnight. - They submit to no constraint or control， neither to the legal authority of a parliamentary code， nor to the moral authority of parliamentary chiefs. They are without any such； they are not organized in parties； neither on one side nor on the other is a recognized leader found who fixes the time， arranges the debate， draws up the motion， assigns parts， and gives the rein to or restrains his supporters. Mirabeau is the only one capable of obtaining this ascendancy； but， on the opening of the Assembly， he is discredited by the notoriety of his vices， and， towards the last， is compromised by his connections with the Court. No other is of sufficient eminence to have any influence；there is too much of average and too little of superior talent. -Their self-esteem is， moreover， as yet too strong to allow any concessions. Each of these improvised legislators has come satisfied with his own system， and to submit to a leader to whom he would entrust his political conscience， to make of him what three out of four of these deputies should be， a voting machine， would require an apprehension of danger， some painful experience， an enforced surrender which he is far from realizing.[4] For this reason， save in the violent party， each acts as his own chief， according to the impulse of the moment， and the confusion may be imagined. Strangers who witness it， lift their hands in pity and astonishment. "They discuss nothing in their Assembly，" writes Gouverneur Morris，[5] "One large half of the time is spent in hallowing and bawling.... Each Man permitted to speak delivers the Result of his Lubrications，" amidst this noise， taking his turn as inscribed， without replying to his predecessor， or being replied to by his successor， without ever meeting argument by argument； so that while the firing is interminable， "all their shots are fired in the air." Before this "frightful clatter" can be reported， the papers of the day are obliged to make all sorts of excisions， to prune away "nonsense，" and reduce the "inflated and bombastic style." Chatter and clamor， that is the whole substance of most of these famous sittings.
"You would hear，" says a journalist， "more yells than speeches； the sittings seemed more likely to end in fights than in decrees. . . .
Twenty times I said to myself， on leaving， that if anything could arrest and turn the tide of the Revolution， it would be a picture of these meetings traced without caution or adaptation. . . All my efforts were therefore directed to represent the truth， without rendering it repulsive. Out of what had been merely a row， Iconcocted a scene. . . I gave all the sentiments， but not always in the same words. I translated their yells into words， their furious gestures into attitudes， and when I could not inspire esteem， Iendeavored to rouse the emotions."There is no remedy for this evil； for， besides the absence of discipline， there is an inward and fundamental cause for the disorder. These people are too susceptible. They are Frenchmen， and Frenchmen of the eighteenth century； brought up in the amenities of the utmost refinement， accustomed to deferential manners， to constant kind attentions and mutual obligations， so thoroughly imbued with the instinct of good breeding that their conversation seems almost insipid to strangers.[6] -- And suddenly they find themselves on the thorny soil of politics， exposed to insulting debates， flat contradictions， venomous denunciation， constant detraction and open invective； engaged in a battle in which every species of weapon peculiar to a parliamentary life is employed， and in which the hardiest veterans are scarcely able to keep cool.
Judge of the effect of all this on inexperienced， highly strung nerves， on men of the world accustomed to the accommodations and amiabilities of universal urbanity. They are at once beside themselves. - And all the more so because they never anticipated a battle； but， on the contrary， a festival， a grand and charming idyll， in which everybody， hand in hand， would assemble in tears around the throne and save the country amid mutual embraces.
Necker himself arranges， like a theater， the chamber in which the sessions of the Assembly are to be held.[7] "He was not disposed to regard the Assemblies of the States-General as anything but a peaceful， imposing， solemn， august spectacle， which the people would enjoy；" and when the idyll suddenly changes into a drama， he is so frightened that it seems to him as if a landslide had occurred that threatened， during the night， to break down the framework of the building. - At the time of the meeting of the States-General， everybody is delighted； all imagine that they are about to enter the promised land. During the procession of the 4thof May，"tears of joy，" says the Marquis de Ferrières， "filled my eyes. . .