The judge who tried the combatants of Paris or the provinces, placed in the dock the mainstays of the law.
The officer who confined in the hulks the "condemned men," confined the defenders of the Republic and of the State.

The general in Africa who imprisoned at Lambassa the transported men bending beneath the sun's fierce heat, shivering with fever, digging in the sun-baked soil a furrow destined to be their grave, that general sequestrated, tortured, assassinated the men of the law.

All, generals, officers, gendarmes, judges, are absolutely under forfeiture.

They have before them more than innocent men,--heroes! more than victims,--martyrs! Let them know this, therefore, and let them hasten to act upon the knowledge; let them, at least, break the fetters, draw the bolts, empty the hulks, throw open the jails, since they have not still the courage to grasp the sword.

Up, consciences, awake, it is full time! If law, right, duty, reason, common sense, equity, justice, suffice not, let them think of the future! If remorse is mute, let responsibility speak! And let all those who, being landed proprietors, shake the magistrate by the hand; who, being bankers, fete a general; who, being peasants, salute a gendarme; let all those who do not shun the hotel in which dwells the minister, the house in which dwells the prefect, as he would shun a _lazaretto_; let all those who, being simple citizens, not functionaries, go to the balls and the banquets of Louis Bonaparte and see not that the black flag waves over the Elysee,--let all these in like manner know that this sort of shame is contagious; if they avoid material complicity, they will not avoid moral complicity.
The crime of the 2nd of December bespatters them.
The present situation, that seems so calm to the unthinking, is most threatening, be sure of that.