The sole friendship of his boyhood was formed with these two. How lightly that friendship weighed in the balance we know, when he believed that the moment had come to sacrifice it on the shrine of his country.
Two things militated against the firm continuance of this friendship; the one, the gaiety of Camille Desmoulins; and the other, the immorality of Danton, who paid no attention to the reproaches of his fellow-student.
Robespierre paid for his bursarship with laurel crowns. He left with the reputation of being a sound scholar—a reputation which gained him few friends and little honor. He afterwards studied with a procureur, entitled himself to practise, and returned to Arras a middling lawyer, but a stern politician, and having learnt to smile with the lips while the heart was filled with gall.
His younger brother took his place at college, while Maximilian, through the kindness of the Abbé de St. Vaast, was nominated a member of the criminal tribunal.
One of the first cases that he had to judge was that of an assassin. The crime was not only patent, but avowed. It fell to Robespierre to pronounce sentence of death.
The next day he sent in his resignation, not wishing to be put to a like test again.
That is how it was that he became an advocate. His philanthropy made him the defender, in place of the condemner of men. Duplay pretended to know, from certain sources, that Robespierre had never undertaken to defend a cause that was not just; but even were it just, he had to uphold it against all. He examined the cause of the peasants who brought a complaint against the Bishop of Arras, found it just, pleaded against his benefactor, and gained the day.
This rectitude, although it had no material influence on his fortunes, increased greatly his reputation. The province sent him to the Etats Généraux, where he had for his adversaries all the nobility and clergy of his native State.
For adversaries—we say too much. The priest and nobles thought too little of him to regard him in such a light.