the credit of all creations of the brain; the harm that it does is done anonymously.  We, for instance—­I, Claude Vignon; you, Blondet; you, Lousteau; and you, Finot—­we are all Platos, Aristides, and Catos, Plutarch’s men, in short; we are all immaculate; we may wash our hands of all iniquity.  Napoleon’s sublime aphorism, suggested by his study of the Convention, ’No one individual is responsible for a crime committed collectively,’ sums up the whole significance of a phenomenon, moral or immoral, whichever you please.  However shamefully a newspaper may behave, the disgrace attaches to no one person.”

“The authorities will resort to repressive legislation,” interposed du Bruel.  “A law is going to be passed, in fact.”

“Pooh!” retorted Nathan.  “What is the law in France against the spirit in which it is received, the most subtle of all solvents?”

“Ideas and opinions can only be counteracted by opinions and ideas,” Vignon continued.  “By sheer terror and despotism, and by no other means, can you extinguish the genius of the French nation; for the language lends itself admirably to allusion and ambiguity.  Epigram breaks out the more for repressive legislation; it is like steam in an engine without a safety-valve.—­The King, for example, does right; if a newspaper is against him, the Minister gets all the credit of the measure, and vice versa.  A newspaper invents a scandalous libel—­it has been misinformed.  If the victim complains, the paper gets off with an apology for taking so great a freedom.  If the case is taken into court, the editor complains that nobody asked him to rectify the mistake; but ask for redress, and he will laugh in your face and treat his offence as a mere trifle.  The paper scoffs if the victim gains the day; and if heavy damages are awarded, the plaintiff is held up as an unpatriotic obscurantist and a menace to the liberties of the country.  In the course of an article purporting to explain that Monsieur So-and-so is as honest a man as you will find in the kingdom, you are informed that he is not better than a common thief.  The sins of the press?  Pooh! mere trifles; the curtailers of its liberties are monsters; and give him time enough, the constant reader is persuaded to believe anything you please.  Everything which does not suit the newspaper will be unpatriotic, and the press will be infallible.  One religion will be played off against another, and the Charter against the King.  The press will hold up the magistracy to scorn for meting out rigorous justice to the press, and applaud its action when it serves the cause of party hatred.  The most sensational fictions will be invented to increase the circulation; Journalism will descend to mountebanks’ tricks worthy of Bobeche; Journalism would serve up its father with the Attic salt of its own wit sooner than fail to interest or amuse the public; Journalism will outdo the actor who put his son’s ashes into the urn to draw real tears from his eyes, or the mistress who sacrifices everything to her lover.”