They salute you, their brows burning with shame.
They feel that they are base, but they know that you are infamous.
Come, since you are by way of hunting those whom you call "the rebels of December," since it is on them you are setting your hounds, since you have instituted a Maupas, and created a ministry of police specially for that purpose, I denounce to you that rebel, that recusant, that insurgent, every man's conscience.
You give money, but 'tis the hand receives it, not the conscience.
Conscience! while you are about it, inscribe it on your lists of exiles.

It is an obstinate opponent, pertinacious, persistent, inflexible, making a disturbance everywhere.

Drive it out of France.
You will be at ease then.
Would you like to know what it calls you, even among your friends?
Would you like to know in what terms an honourable chevalier of Saint-Louis, an octogenarian, a great antagonist of "demagogues," and a partisan of yours, cast his vote for you on the 20th of December?
"He is a scoundrel," said he, "but a _necessary scoundrel_." No! there are no necessary scoundrels.

No! crime is never useful! No! crime is never a good.

Society saved by treason! Blasphemy! we must leave it to the archbishops to say these things.