Among men of Marat’s disposition, the wounds of self-love never heal.  Without the hateful passions derived from this source, who would believe that an individual, whose time was divided between the superintendence of a daily journal, the drawing up of innumerable placards with which he covered the walls of Paris, together with the struggles of the Convention, the disputes not less fierce of the clubs; that an individual who, besides, had given himself the task of imposing an Agrarian law on the country, could find time to write the very long letters against the old official adversaries of his bad experiments, his absurd theories, his lucubrations devoid both of erudition and of talent; letters in which the Monges, the Laplaces, the Lavoisiers are treated with such an entire neglect of justice and of truth, and with such a cynical spirit, that my respect for this assembly prevents my quoting a single expression.

It was not then only the Mayor of Paris whom the pretended friend of the people persecuted; it was also the Academician Bailly.  But the illustrious philosopher, the virtuous magistrate, gave no hold for positive and decided criminations.  The hideous pamphleteer understood this well; and therefore he adopted vague insinuations, that allowed of no possible refutation, a method which, we may remark by the way, has not been without imitators.  Marat exclaimed every day:  “Let Bailly send in his accounts!” and the most powerful figure of rhetoric, as Napoleon said, repetition, finally inspires doubts in a stupid portion of the public, in some feeble, ignorant, and credulous minds in the Council of the Commune; and the scrupulous magistrate wished, in fact, to send in his accounts.  Here they are in two lines:  Bailly never had the handling of any public funds.  He left the Hotel de Ville, after having spent there two thirds of his patrimony.  If his functions had been long protracted, he would have retired completely ruined.  Before the Commune assigned him any salary, the expenses of our colleague in charities already exceeded 30,000 livres.

That was, Gentlemen, the final result.  The details would be more striking, and the name of Bailly would ennoble them.  I could show our colleague entering only once with his wife, to regulate the furnishing of the apartments that the Commune assigned him; rejecting all that had the appearance of luxury or even of elegance; to replace sets of china by sets of earthenware, new carpets by the half-used ones of M. de Crosnes, writing tables of mahogany by writing tables of walnut, &c.  But all this would appear an indirect criticism, which is far from my thoughts.  From the same motives, I will not say, that inimical to all sinecures, of all plurality of appointments, when the functions are not fulfilled, the Mayor of Paris, since he no longer regularly attended the meetings of the National Assembly, no longer fingered the pay of a deputy, and that this was proved, to the great confusion of the idiots, whose minds had been disturbed 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.