cedure in one instance and upon a limited
field, the freedom of the press.[1225] In December, 1790, M. Etienne,
an engineer, whom Marat and Freron had denounced as a spy in their
periodicals, brought a suit against them in the police court. The
numbers containing the libel were seized, the printers summoned to
appear, and M. Etienne claimed a public retraction or 25,000 francs
damages with costs. At this the two journalists, considering themselves
infallible as well as exempt from arrest, are indignant.

"It is of the utmost importance," writes Marat, "that the informer
should not be liable to prosecution as he is accountable only to the
public for what he says and does for the public good."

M. Etienne (surnamed Languedoc), therefore, is a traitor: "Monsieur
Languedoc, I advise you to keep your mouth shut; if I can have you hung
I will." M. Etienne, nevertheless, persists and obtains a first decision
in his favor. Fire and flame are at once belched forth by Marat and
Freon:

"Master Thorillon," exclaims Freron to the commissary of police, "you
shall be punished and held up to the people as an example; this infamous
decision must be canceled."--"Citizens," writes Marat, "go in a body
to the Hotel-de-Ville and do not allow one of the guards to enter the
court-room. "--On the day of the trial, and in the most condescending
spirit, but two grenadiers are let in. Even these, however, are too many
and shouts from the Jacobin crowd arise "Turn 'em out! We rule here,"
upon which the two grenadiers withdraw. On the other hand, says Freron
triumphantly, that there were in the court-room "sixty of the victors at
the Bastille led by the brave Santerre, who intended to interfere in
the trial."--They intervene, indeed, and first against the plaintiff. M.
Etienne is attacked at the entrance of the court-room and nearly knocked
down He is so maltreated that he is obliged to seek shelter in the
guard-room. He is spit upon, and they "move to cut off his ears." His
friends receive "hundreds of kicks," while he runs away, and the case is
postponed.--It is called up again several times, so no the judges
have to be restrained. A certain Mandart in the audience, author of a
pamphlet on "Popular Sovereignty," springs to his feet and, addressing
Bailly, mayor of Paris, and president of the tribunal, challenges the
court. As usual Bailly yields, attempting to cover up his weakness with
an honorable pretext: "Although a judge can be challenged