The republic would not have killed a king, a queen, an innocent babe, and a virtuous princess; it would not have had the massacres of September, those St. Bartholomews of the people—­that have left an indelible stain on the whole robes of liberty.  It would not have been baptized in the blood of three hundred thousand human beings—­it would not have armed the revolutionary tribunal with the axe of the people, with which it immolated a generation to make way for an idea,—­it would not have had the 31st of May.  The Girondists arriving at the supreme power, unsullied by crime, would have possessed more force with which to combat the demagogues; and the republic calmly and deliberately instituted, would have intimidated Europe far more than an emeute legitimised by bloodshed and assassination.  War might have been avoided, or, if it was inevitable, have been more unanimous and more triumphant; our generals would not have been massacred by their soldiers amidst cries of treason.  The spirit of the people would have combated with us, and the horror of our days of August, September, and January would not have alienated from our standards the nations attracted thither by our doctrines.  Thus a single change in the origin of the republic changed the fate of the Revolution.

XVI.

But if this rigorous resolution was yet repugnant to the feelings of France, and if the Assembly had feared they had given birth to a republic prematurely, the third course was yet open, to proclaim the temporary cessation of royalty during ten years, and govern in a republican form in its name until the constitution was firmly and securely established.  This course would have saved all the respect due to royalty; the life of the king—­the life of the royal family—­the rights of the people—­the purity of the Revolution—­it was at once firm and calm, efficacious and legitimate.  It was such a dictatorship as the people had instinctively figured in the critical times of their existence.  But instead of a short, fugitive, disturbed, and ambitious dictatorship of one man, it was the dictatorship of the nation, governing itself through its National Assembly.  The nation might have respectfully laid by royalty during ten years, in order itself to carry out a work above the power of the king.  This accomplished, resentment extinguished, habits formed, the laws in operation, the frontiers protected, the clergy secularised, the aristocracy humbled, the dictatorship could terminate.  The king or his dynasty could ascend without danger a throne from which all danger was now averted.  This veritable republic would have thus resumed the name of a constitutional monarchy, without changing any thing, and the statue of royalty would have been replaced on its pedestal when the base had been consolidated.  Such would have been the consulate of the people, far superior to that consulate of a man who was to finish by ravaging Europe, and by the double usurpation of a throne and a revolution.