The hatred of the populace against a certain class, and against certain individuals, was only equalled by their enthusiasm in favour of others.
They had worshipped Marat for his squalor and his vices; they worshipped Danton for his energy and Robespierre for his calm; they worshipped Deroulede for his voice, his gentleness and his pity, for his care of their children and the eloquence of his speech.
It was that eloquence which Merlin feared now; but he little knew the type of man he had to deal with.
Deroulede's influence over the most unruly, the most vicious populace the history of the world has ever known, was not obtained through fanning its passions.

That popularity, though brilliant, is always ephemeral.

The passions of a mob will invariably turn against those who have helped to rouse them.

Marat did not live to see the waning of his star; Danton was dragged to the guillotine by those whom he had taught to look upon that instrument of death as the only possible and unanswerable political argument; Robespierre succumbed to the orgies of bloodshed he himself had brought about.

But Deroulede remained master of the people of Paris for as long as he chose to exert that mastery.