Clermont Tonnerre and Malouet were rather statesmen than orators; their cautious and reflective language weighed only on the reason; they sought for the mean between liberty and monarchy, and believed they had found it in the system of the Two Houses of English Legislature.  The moderes of the two parties listened to them respectfully; like all half parties and half talents, they excited neither hatred nor anger; but events did not listen to them, but thrusting them aside, advanced towards results that were utterly absolute.  Maury and Cazales, less philosophic, were the two champions of the right side; different in character, their oratorical powers were much on a par.  Maury represented the clergy, of which body he was a member; Cazales, the noblesse, to whom he belonged.  The one, Maury, early trained to struggles of polemical theology, had sharpened and polished in the pulpit the eloquence he was to bring into the tribune.  Sprung from the lowest ranks of the people, he only belonged to the ancien regime by his garb, and defended religion and the monarchy as two texts, imposed upon him as themes for discourses.  His conviction was the part he played; any other appointed character would have suited equally well; yet he sustained with unflinching courage and admirable consistency that which had been “set down for him.”

Devoted from his youth to serious studies, endowed with abundant flow of words, striking and vivid in his language, his harangues were perfect treatises on the subjects he discussed.  The only rival of Mirabeau, he needed but a cause more natural and more sterling to have become his equal:  but sophistry could not deck abuses in colours more specious than those with which Maury invested the ancien regime.

Historical erudition and sacred learning supplied him with ample sources of argument.  The boldness of his character and language inspired words which even avenge a defeat, and his fine countenance, his sonorous voice, his commanding gesture, the defiance and good temper with which he braved the tribunes, frequently drew down the applauses of his enemies.  The people, who recognised his invincible strength, were amused at his impotent opposition.  Maury was to them as one of those gladiators whom they like to see fight, although well knowing that they must perish in the strife.  One thing was wanting to the Abbe Maury,—­weight to his eloquence; neither his birth, his faith, nor his life inspired respect in those who listened.  The actor was visible in the man, the advocate in the cause, the orator and his language were not identified.  Strip the Abbe Maury of the habit of his order, and he might have changed sides without a struggle, and have taken his seat amongst the innovators.  Such orators grace a party, they never save it.

XVI.