PARIS.
I.
Pressure of the Assembly on the King. -- His veto rendered void or eluded. -- His ministers insulted and driven away. -- The usurpations of his Girondist ministry. -- He removes them. - Riots being prepared.
PREVIOUS to this the tree was so shaken as to be already tottering at its base. -- Reduced as the King's prerogative is， the Jacobins still continue to contest it， depriving him of even its shadow. At the opening session they refuse to him the titles of Sire and Majesty； to them he is not， in the sense of the constitution， a hereditary representative of the French people， but "a high functionary，" that is to say， a mere employee， fortunate enough to sit in an equally good chair alongside of the president of the Assembly， whom they style "president of the nation."[1] The Assembly， in their eyes， is sole sovereign， "while the other powers，" says Condorcet， "can act legitimately only when specially authorized by a positive law；[2] the Assembly may do anything that is not formally prohibited to it by the law，" 'in other words， interpret the constitution， then change it， take it to pieces， and do away with it. Consequently， in defiance of the constitution， it takes upon itself the initiation of war， and， on rare occasions， on the King using his veto， it sets this aside， or allows it to be set aside.[3] In vain he rejects， as he has a legal right to do， the decrees which sanction the persecution of unsworn ecclesiastics， which confiscate the property of the émigrés， and which establish a camp around Paris. At the suggestion of the Jacobin deputies，[4] the unsworn ecclesiastics are interned， expelled， or imprisoned by the municipalities and Directories； the estates and mansions of the émigrés and of their relatives are abandoned without resistance to the jacqueries； the camp around Paris is replaced by the summoning of the Federates to Paris. In short， the monarch's sanction is eluded or dispensed with. -- As to his ministers， "they are merely clerks of the Legislative Body decked with a royal leash."[5] In full session they are maltreated， reviled， grossly insulted， not merely as lackeys of bad character， but as known criminals. They are interrogated at the bar of the house， forbidden to leave Paris before their accounts are examined； their papers are overhauled； their most guarded expressions and most meritorious acts are held to be criminal； denunciations against them are provoked；their subordinates are incited to rebel against them；[6] committees to watch them and calumniate them are appointed； the perspective of a scaffold is placed before them in every relation， acts or threats of accusation being passed against them， as well as against their agents， on the shallowest pretexts， accompanied with such miserable quibbling，[7] and such an evident falsification of facts and texts that the Assembly， forced by the evidence， twice reverses its hasty decision， and declares those innocent whom it had condemned the evening before.[8] Nothing is of any avail， neither their strict fulfillment of the law， their submission to the committees of the Assembly， nor their humble attitude before the Assembly itself； "they are careful now to treat it politely and avoid the galleys."[9] -- But this does not suffice. They must become Jacobins； otherwise the high court of Orleans will be for them as for M. Delessart， the ante-room to the prison and the guillotine. "Terror and dismay，" says Vergniaud， pointing with his finger to the Tuileries， "have often issued in the name of despotism in ancient times from that famous palace； let them to-day go back to it in the name of law."[10]
Even with a Jacobin Minister， terror and dismay are permanent.