The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1848-02-26


Obscure, unknown, modest, without amy
preseniiment Of his own greatness. he lodged
with three OF his colleagues from the South |
in little lodging Of the Rue des Jeuneurs,
and Afterwards in retired house in su-
burb surrounded by the gardens OF Tlvoll.
His letters TO his family are filled with the
humblest details Of domestic management.
He can scarcely contrive to live. He
watches his least expenses with strict
economy. A few louis, which he has asked
of his sister, appear a sum sufficient to sup
port him long time. He writes to have
little linen sent him in the cheapest manner.
He never thinks of fortune, not even Of glo-
ry. He goes to the post to which duty calls
him. In his patriotic simplicity, he is terri
fed by the mission which Bordeaux inn
poses on him. An antique probity breaks
forth in the confidential epanchements oil
this correspondence with his friends. His
family have some claims to press on the
ministers he refuses to ask anything Tor
them. for fear that asking justice should aP-
pear in his mouth to be eItorting favor.
il have tied myself down in this respect to
the utmost nicely; | have made myself a
law, he says to his brother.in-law, M. Al
luaud Of Limoges who had been second
father to him.
Ali these private communications between
Vergniaud, his sister, and his brother-in-
law, breathe simplicity, tenderness Of heart,
and home. The roots Of the public man
spring out Of a soil OF pure morality. No
trace Of factious feeling. Of republican "a
natcsm, Of hatred to the king, discover
themselves in the innermost feelings of
Vergniaud He speaks OF the queen with
tenderness, of Louis XVI. with PITY
The equivocal conduct Of the king he
writes in June, 1892, increases our danger
and his own. They assure me that he
comes to-day to the Assembly. II he does
not pronounce himself in decisive manner
he is bringing himself to some sad catastro-
phe. Many an effort will have to be made
TO plunge in oblivion 50 many false steps,
which are looked on as 50 many treasons.
And little further, descending from his
pity for the king to his own domestic situa-
lion, Il have no money. he writes; my old
creditors in Paris dun me pay them lit
tie every month; rents are high; it is i'm
possible for me to pay for everything.-
This young man, who with gesture crush
ed throne, scarce knew where to lay his
head in the empire which he was shaking.
Scarcely has he made little by his pro-
fession, when he strips himself Of it, and
sells the little inheritance which he had got
from his mother, TO pay the debts Of his late
father. By the sacrifice Of all he possesses
he redeems his fathers memory he arrives
in Paris almost in indigence. Boyer-Fon-
frede and Ducos Of Bordeaux, his two
friends, receive MIN IS guest at their ia
bic, and under their roof Vergniaud,
careless Of success, like all men who feel
their own power, worked little, and trusted
TO the moment and TO nature His genius,
unfortunately too fond Of Incidence, loved
to slumber and give itself up to the careless
ness Of his age and disposition. 1t was
necessary to shake him in order to waken
him out Of his youthful love OF ease, and
push him TO the tribune or into council
With him, as with the Orientals, there was
no transition between idleness and heroism
Action hurried him away, but soon wearied
him. He fell back into reverie Of genius
Brissot, Guadet. Gensonne. dragged him
to Madame Rolands. She did not find him
manly or ambitious enough for her TASTE
His southern habits, his literary tastes, his
attraction towards less imperious beauty,
continually brought him back into the soci-
ETY. OF an actress of the Theatre-F Francois,
Madame Simon Candeille. He had written
for her, under another name, some scenes OF
the drama then in vogue, Of La Belle Fer
mere. This young woman, a. once po-
etess, writer, actress, displayed in this drama
all the destinations Of her feelings her tai
ent, and her beauty. Vergniaud intoxicated
himself with this life of art, of music, Of de-
clamation, and Of pleasure; he was eager to
enjoy his youth, as if he had foreboding
that it would soon be cut short His habits
+ were meditativs and idle. He rose in the
middle Of the day; wrote little, and on loose
sheets, and with his paper on his knee, like
man in hurry who makes the most Of his
time; he composed his speeches slowly in
his reveries, and kept them in his memory
f BY the help Of notes; he polished his elo.
, quence ct leisure, as the soldier polishss his
weapon when at rest. He wished his blows
to be not only mortal, but brilliant; he was
as curious about their merits in point Of art,
as OF their political efficiency. The stone
launched, he left the recoil to fate, and gave
himself up anew to Incidence. He was moi
the man for every hour; he was a man for
great days.
In state Of rsPoss no one would have
noticed this man in the crowd. He would
have passed with the common herd, without
offending or arresting the gaze. But when
his soul beamed forth in his features like
light on bust, his countenance, as whole,
gained by its expression that ideal splendor
and beauty which none Of his features had
in detail. His eloquence lit him up. The
throbbing muscles Of his eyebrows, temples,
and lips, shaped themselves according to the
; thought that was in him, and made his coun.
tenance the thought ITSELF it was the tran.
6guralion Of genius. The time Of Vergniaud
was when he spoke; the pedestal Of hi:
beauty was the tribune. When he had come
. down it vanished the orator was no more
than a mere man.-Lamartins's Giron
dius