that we should be instantly admitted to the king’s presence, and we therefore persisted.  The king then informed us he would give us audience at nine o’clock, at which hour we again presented ourselves.  At four paces distance from the king I saluted him, and addressed him in the terms agreed upon; he inquired the names of my colleagues, and I replied, ‘I do not know them;’ we were about to withdraw, when he recalled us, saying, ’I cannot see you before Friday.’”

An ill-repressed agitation, which had hitherto pervaded the ranks of the Assembly, now broke forth at these last words.  “I demand,” cried a deputy, “that this title of Majesty be no longer employed.”  “I demand,” added another, “that this title of Sire be abolished; it is only an abbreviation of Seigneur, which recognises a sovereignty in the man to whom it is given.”  “I demand,” said the deputy Bequet, “that we be no longer treated as automata, obliged to sit down or stand, just as it pleases the king to rise or to sit down.”  Couthon made his voice heard for the first time, and his first speech was a threat against royalty.  “There is no other majesty here,” said he, “than that of the law and the people.  Let us leave the king no other title than that of King of the French.  Let this scandalous chair be removed, the gilded seat brought for his use the last time he appeared in this chamber, if he really is anxious to fill the simple place of the president of a great people.  Let an equality exist between us as regards ceremony:  when he is uncovered and standing, let us stand and uncover our heads; when he is covered and seated, let us sit and wear our hats.”  “The people,” said Chabot, “has sent you here to maintain its dignity; will you permit the king to say ‘I will come at three o’clock,’ as if you were unable to adjourn the Assembly without awaiting him?”

It was decreed that every member should have the right to sit covered in the king’s presence.  “This decree,” observed Garrau de Coulon, “is calculated to create a degree of confusion in the Assembly; this privilege, given indiscriminately, would enable some to display pride, and others flattery.”  “So much the better,” said a voice; “if there are any flatterers, we shall know them.”  It was also decreed that there should be only two chairs, placed in a line, one for the king, the other for the president; and lastly, that the king should have no other title than that of King of the French.

III.

These decrees humiliated the king, spread consternation amongst the constitutional party, and agitated the people.  All had hoped that harmony would be established between the powers, and yet this understanding was destroyed at the outset, and the constitution tottered at its first step.  This deprivation of the titles of royalty seemed a greater humiliation than the deprivation of the absolute power.  Had we alone kept our king to expose him to the insults and derision of the