dans les circonstances d'alors. I expected
a Government _honnete et modere_. I have been disappointed.'

Here a violent exclamation ran through the assembly. Baroche rose and
cried out, 'You hear him, gentlemen. He says that he expected honesty and
moderation from the Government, and that he has been disappointed. I
appeal to you, Mr. President, to decide whether we are to sit and listen
to such infamies.'

[Voix diverses:--'Expliquez vos paroles.' 'Retirez vos paroles.' M. de
Montalembert.--'Je les maintiens et je les explique.']

'I expected _un gouvernement honnete et modere_. I have been
disappointed. Its _honnete_ may be judged by the confiscation of the
Orleans property.'

Here was another hubbub, and another protest of Baroche's.

'What is going on before you,' continued Montalembert, 'is a sample of
its moderation. It is now attempting in my person to introduce into our
criminal law a new _delit_, "communication." Until now it was supposed
that nothing was criminal until it was published. It was believed that a
man might write his opinions and his reflections, and might exchange them
with his friends; that nothing was libellous that was confidential. _Now_
this Government holds a man responsible for every thought that an
indiscreet or an incautious friend, or a concealed enemy, or a tool of
power reveals. If it succeeds in this attempt, it will not rest satisfied
with this victory over the remnant of our freedom. It is not in the
nature of things that it should. A Government that will not tolerate
censure must forbid discussion. You are now asked to put down writing.
When that has been done, conversation will be attacked. Paris will
resemble Rome under the successors of Augustus. Already this prosecution
has produced a _malaise_ which I never felt or observed before. What will
be the feelings of the nation when all that is around it is concealed,
when every avenue by which light could penetrate is stopped; when we are
exposed to all the undefined terrors and exaggerated dangers that
accompany utter darkness? The misfortune of France, a national defect
which makes the happiness enjoyed by England unattainable by us, is, that
she is always oscillating between extremes; that she is constantly
swinging from universal conquest to _la paix a tout prix_, from the
desire of nothing but glory to the desire of nothing but wealth, from the
wildest democracy to the most abject servility. Every new Government
starts wi