On his return to the Temple, the King having nothing of value with which he could partially repay his counsel, took off his laced cravat and gave it to Desèze. On the 1st of January, after the French fashion of wishing friends a happy new year, Cléry approached his master’s bed and offered him best wishes for the continuance of his life. The King put his hands together and prayed, for he remembered that this was the day in the year when his thousand courtiers flocked to his palace to congratulate him. Rising, he sent to ask if his daughter was better (for the Princess was ill), and to wish the Queen _a happy new year_. From the first to the 16th of January, he was kept immured in the great tower of the Temple, perfectly isolated. No one was allowed to see him, not even one of his family. The fallen King passed his time reading the history of England, especially the volumes of the life and execution of Charles I—history which appeared to fascinate him. Meanwhile, the members of the Convention were daily disputing the question of the King’s life or death. St. Just now rose to the surface. Unpityingly he cried, “If the King is innocent, the people are guilty. You have declared martial law against the tyrants of the whole world, and spare your own. The Revolution only begins where the tyrant ends.” Another cried, “If with this, my hand, I alone could strangle all tyrants, I would not hesitate to rid the world of them.” But the rising party in the house lived by favor of the eager revolutionists, whom they dared not oppose. With them it was necessary that the King should die. Another, upon another day, cried, “We have lost three hours this day talking of a thing they call a King. Are we, then, revolutionists? No; we are vile slaves.” Camille Desmoulins stuttered, “Let him be killed, with this word on his brow—‘Traitor!’ and this on his back—‘King!’” Another cried, “Henceforth, let murderers and thieves be buried in the royal vaults!” At length the Convention agreed to the plan of every member of the Convention voting upon these three questions:— 1. Is Louis guilty? 2. Shall the decision of the Convention be submitted to the ratification of the people. 3. What shall be the sentence? To the first question, nearly seven hundred as against about a dozen, voted “Yes.” On the second, two hundred and eighty voices voted for the appeal to the people; four hundred and twenty-three against it. It was now (January 16) that Danton first betrayed his insatiable thirst for blood. “I thought,” cried he, “we were assembled for other purposes than those of the drama.” “’Tis a question of liberty!” cried several voices. “Question of liberty?” cried Danton. “’Tis a question of a comedy—that taking off the head of a tyrant with the axe of a King! I demand that we do not separate before we have pronounced sentence upon Louis! His accomplices have fallen without delay, therefore let him fall at once!”