“Will you never understand, my friend? When Mirabeau has saved the monarchy, he will, in fact, be king. This haughty queen once at his feet the creature of his power, subdued by his genius, as many a woman, proud and self-sufficient as she is, have been, who shall dare oppose any reform he may decide upon for the consolidation of his power, or the benefit of the people? Mirabeau is already made sovereign, by his own will, of the great revolutionary movement, which has terrified the Austrian into something like civility. A few months later and she shall implore the aid she now dares to reject. This will make his father the happiest man on earth, and give this irresolute, good-hearted king the quiet he so much craves.” “But the people—the clubs—the women of Paris? Remember how they worshiped Necker, yet he failed to satisfy them.” “Necker!” exclaimed Mirabeau, with infinite scorn in his voice. “A man of money, a financier, whom the insane populace expected to bring corn out of the parched earth by magic. Failing in this, he had no resources within himself by which to win the discontented back again; but it is different with Mirabeau. His voice is persuasive, his will potent, his power over multitudes is supreme; with his foot upon the throne, he will reach forth his hand to the people, and sustain their rights. You, my friend and foster-brother, shall be a connecting-link between Mirabeau and his old followers. Thus he will control the court, the assembly, and the populace.” “That would be a glorious combination, if it could be carried out,” said Jacques. “If,” repeated the count; “can you doubt it? Think what the pen and eloquence of one man has accomplished already. Ah, Jacques! this idea of reaching the people through newspapers and pamphlets, was an inspiration of liberty. This is a power which we have learned how to wield with force, and which can be used in behalf of the throne as well as for the people.” “But not against the people, at least with my poor help,” said Jacques. Mirabeau turned upon him angrily. “Will you never understand that it is by the power of the people alone the monarchy can be sustained?” he said, in his rough, dogmatical way. “There is but one man living who can bring these great elements in harmony; because it requires the union of two extremes in the same man; a nobleman who carries in his own person the traditions of the past, but whose life and sympathies have been with the people. A man God-gifted with eloquence both of speech and with the pen; in short, a being who concentrates in one existence two distinct and opposing characters. Does France contain more than one man of whom you could say this, my friend?” “No; France has but one Mirabeau.”