Friends, trembling at the results of a quarrel on their part, brought them to meet.  “It is right,” said Danton, swallowing much indignation, “to repress the Royalists:  but we should not strike except where it is useful to the Republic; we should not confound the innocent and the guilty.”—­“And who told you,” replied Robespierre with a poisonous look, “that one innocent person had perished?”—­“Quoi,” said Danton, turning round to Friend Paris self-named Fabricius, Juryman in the Revolutionary Tribunal:  “Quoi, not one innocent?  What sayest thou of it, Fabricius!” (Biographie de Ministres, para Danton.)—­Friends, Westermann, this Paris and others urged him to shew himself, to ascend the Tribune and act.  The man Danton was not prone to shew himself; to act, or uproar for his own safety.  A man of careless, large, hoping nature; a large nature that could rest:  he would sit whole hours, they say, hearing Camille talk, and liked nothing so well.  Friends urged him to fly; his Wife urged him:  “Whither fly?” answered he:  “If freed France cast me out, there are only dungeons for me elsewhere.  One carries not his country with him at the sole of his shoe!” The man Danton sat still.  Not even the arrestment of Friend Herault, a member of Salut, yet arrested by Salut, can rouse Danton.—­On the night of the 30th of March, Juryman Paris came rushing in; haste looking through his eyes:  A clerk of the Salut Committee had told him Danton’s warrant was made out, he is to be arrested this very night!  Entreaties there are and trepidation, of poor Wife, of Paris and Friends:  Danton sat silent for a while; then answered, “Ils n’oseraient, They dare not;” and would take no measures.  Murmuring “They dare not,” he goes to sleep as usual.

And yet, on the morrow morning, strange rumour spreads over Paris City:  Danton, Camille, Phelippeaux, Lacroix have been arrested overnight!  It is verily so:  the corridors of the Luxembourg were all crowded, Prisoners crowding forth to see this giant of the Revolution among them.  “Messieurs,” said Danton politely, “I hoped soon to have got you all out of this:  but here I am myself; and one sees not where it will end.”—­Rumour may spread over Paris:  the Convention clusters itself into groups; wide-eyed, whispering, “Danton arrested!” Who then is safe?  Legendre, mounting the Tribune, utters, at his own peril, a feeble word for him; moving that he be heard at that Bar before indictment; but Robespierre frowns him down:  “Did you hear Chabot, or Bazire?  Would you have two weights and measures?” Legendre cowers low; Danton, like the others, must take his doom.

Danton’s Prison-thoughts were curious to have; but are not given in any quantity:  indeed few such remarkable men have been left so obscure to us as this Titan of the Revolution.  He was heard to ejaculate:  “This time twelvemonth, I was moving the creation of that same Revolutionary Tribunal.  I crave pardon for it of God and man.  They are all Brothers Cain:  Brissot would have