The tears they shed upon his coffin were hypocritical.

The people only wept in all sincerity, because the people were too strong to be jealous, and they, far from reproaching Mirabeau with his birth, loved in him that nobility as though it were a spoil they had carried off from the aristocracy.
Moreover, the nation, disturbed at seeing its institutions crumbling away one by one, and dreading a total destruction, felt instinctively that the genius of a great man was the last stronghold left to them.
This genius quenched, it saw only darkness and precipices before the monarchy.

The Jacobins alone rejoiced loudly, for it was only he who could outweigh them.
It was on the 6th of April, 1791, that the National Assembly resumed its sittings.

Mirabeau's place, left vacant, reminded each gazer of the impossibility of again filling it; consternation was impressed on every countenance in the tribunes, and a profound silence pervaded the meeting.

M.de Talleyrand announced to the Assembly a posthumous address of Mirabeau.