berately that the hearer was thrilled at the marvellous sound of his voice, and when one heard the hissing of serpents under the flowers of speech. In passion he was irresistible. It is told of Madame de Staël that she once sat in the gallery of the National Assembly when Mirabeau rose to speak against Necker. It may be well understood that such a daughter as she was, who adored her father, was filled with wrath and rage against Mirabeau, but these inimical feelings vanished as she listened, and finally, when the storm of his eloquence increased to terrible power—when the poisoned lightnings shot from his eyes and the world-crushing thunder roared from his soul—Madame de Staël leaned far out over the railing of the gallery and applauded like mad.
But far more important than the oratorical power of the man was that which he said. This we can now judge most impartially, and see from it that Mirabeau most thoroughly understood his time; that he not only knew how to tear down but to build up,[1] and that he under-
- ↑ There are many passages in Carlyle's works which to me conclusively prove that he was under great obligation to Heine, and this is one of them. The great English writer, in speaking of Voltaire in "Sartor Resartus," sneers at him for having only a hammer to destroy, not a trowel wherewith to build, and requests him to take our thanks—and himself away. But
