urbed by Marat's clamours. Yet I will record
that Bailly refused all that in the incomes of his predecessors had
proceeded from an impure source; as, for example, the allowances from
the lotteries, the amount of which was by his orders constantly paid
into the coffers of the Commune.

You see, Gentlemen, that no trouble was required to show that the
disinterestedness of Bailly was great, enlightened, dictated by virtue,
and that it was at least equal to his other eminent qualities. In the
series of accusations that I have extracted from the pamphlets of that
epoch, there is one, however, as to which, all things considered, I will
not attempt to defend Bailly. He accepted a livery from the city; on
this point no blame was attached to him; but the colours of the livery
were very gaudy. Perhaps the inventors of these bright shades had
imagined, that the insignia of the first magistrate of the metropolis,
in a ceremony, in a crowd, should, like the light from a Pharos, strike
even inattentive eyes. But these explanations regard those who would
make of Bailly a perfectly rational being, a man absolutely faultless;
I, although his admirer, I resign myself to admit that in a laborious
life, strewed with so many rocks, he committed the horrible crime,
unpardonable let it be called, of having accepted from the Commune a
livery of gaudy colours.

Bailly figured in the events of the month of October 1789, only by the
unsuccessful efforts he made at Paris, to arrange with Lafayette how to
prevent a great crowd of women from going to Versailles. When this
crowd, considerably increased, returned on the 6th October very
tumultuously escorting the carriages of the royal family, Bailly
harangued the king at the Barriere de la Conference. Three days after,
he also complimented the Queen at the Tuileries in the name of the
Municipal Council.

On retiring from the National Assembly, which he then called a Cavern of
Anthropophagi, Lally Tollendal published a letter in which he found
bitter fault with Bailly on account of these discourses. Lally was
angry, recollecting that the day when the king reentered his capital as
a prisoner, surrounded by a very disrespectful crowd, and preceded by
the heads of his body-guards, had appeared to Bailly a fine day!

If the two heads had been in the procession, Bailly becomes inexcusable;
but the two epochs, or rather hours (to speak more correctly), have been
confounded; the wretched men, who after a