later, you will do me justice; but I require it while I
live, and while I am yet amongst you."

Our colleague was unanimously condemned. We should despair of the
future, unless such a unanimity struck all friends of justice and
humanity with stupor, if it did not increase the number of decided
adversaries to all political tribunals.

When the President of the Tribunal interrogated the accused, already
declared guilty, as to whether he had any reclamations to make relative
to the execution of the sentence, Bailly answered:

"I have always carried out the law; I shall know how to submit myself to
it, since you are its organ."

The illustrious convict was led back to his cell.

Bailly had said in his eloge on M. de Tressan: "French gaiety produces
the same effect as stoicism." These words occurred to my memory at the
time when I was gathering from various sources the proof that on
reentering the Conciergerie after his condemnation, Bailly showed
himself at once both gay and stoical.

He desired his nephew, M. Batbeda, to play a game at piquet with him as
usual. He thought of all the circumstances connected with the frightful
morrow with such coolness, that he even said with a smile to M. Batbeda
during the game: "Let us rest awhile, my friend, and take a pinch of
snuff; to-morrow I shall be deprived of this pleasure, for I shall have
my hands tied behind my back."

I will quote some words which, while testifying to a similar degree
Bailly's serenity of mind, are more in harmony with his grave character,
and more worthy of being preserved in history.

One of the companions of the illustrious academician's captivity, on the
evening of the 11th of November, with tears in his eyes and moved by a
tender veneration, exclaimed: "Why did you let us fancy there was a
possibility of acquittal? You deceived us then?"--Bailly answered: "No,
I was teaching you never to despair of the laws of your country."

In the paroxysms of wild despair, some of the prisoners reviewing the
past, went so far as to regret that they had never infringed the laws of
the strictest honesty.

Bailly brought back these minds, erring for the moment from the path of
duty, by repeating to them maxims which both in form and substance would
not disparage the collections of the most celebrated moralists:

"It is false, very false, that a crime can ever be useful. The trade of
an honest man is the safest, even in times of revolution. Enlightened
egotis