It was one of the misfortunes of the Constituent Assembly that it never learned the arts of party government. When the preliminary struggle between the Commons and the privileged orders was over, and the three estates were finally united in one chamber, the Assembly broke up into many different groups; and although these groups in process of time shaped themselves roughly into parties, yet they so far retained their independence, that it was rarely possible to say on any particular question on which side the majority would be, or what groups and politicians might or might not combine together. At first the only distinction was between those who were opposed to the Revolution and those who were its supporters. Gradually, however, as the friends of the new movement insensibly divided, the representatives of the nobles and upper clergy, who had regarded the King's policy as dangerous from the first, found themselves reinforced by wiser politicians, and expanded into a respectable party occupying the benches on the Right. One section of this party--the extreme section--was, it is true, only a noisy and obstructive faction, with reactionary views and with interests largely selfish, which signalised itself, as class-politicians are wont to do, by frequent violence of expression, and by behaviour neither orderly nor well-bred. Among their leaders were the well-known lawyer, d'Eprémesnil, who, as one of the heroes of the Parlement of Paris, had enjoyed in 1788 an astonishing but brief popularity, and the Vicomte de Mirabeau, the conspicuous but too convivial brother of the great statesman who directed the Commons. A more important section of the party was formed by the phalanx of dignitaries of the Church, who followed the lead of the Archbishops of Rouen and Aix. As the attack upon the Church proceeded, these prelates drew after them a large number of the lower clergy, whose sympathies had at first leaned to the popular side. But the most prominent figures upon the benches of the Right were two men, whose remarkable abilities became better known as time went on--Maury, the versatile, witty, dissolute ecclesiastic, who, assisted by his rare power as a debater, rose to the front rank among the leaders of his party, and Cazalés, the indolent, unambitious soldier, whose clear head made it apparent to him, as it was to Maury, that the old order could never be entirely replaced, but who devoted his great oratorical gifts, whenever his lack of energy permitted him to use them, to defending the monarchy, and to denouncing mob-rule.