It was his maiden speech in the Assembly.  “Yes,” he said, “look at the point to which impunity conducts us!  It is always the source of great crimes, and is now the sole cause of the disorganised state into which society is plunged.  The plans of toleration proposed to you are very well for tranquil times; but can we tolerate those who will neither tolerate the constitution nor the laws?  Will it be when French blood has at last stained the waves of the sea, that you will become sensible of the dangers of indulgence?  It is time that every thing is submitted to the will of the nation; that tiaras, diadems, and censers should yield to the sceptre of the laws.  The facts you have just heard are but the prelude of what is about to occur in the rest of the kingdom.  Consider the circumstances of these troubles, and you will see that they have the effect of a disorganised system contemporary with the constitution.  This system was born there! (the orator pointed to the right) it is sanctioned at the court of Rome.  It is but a real fanaticism we have to unmask—­it is but hypocrisy!  The priests are the privileged brawlers, who ought to be punished by penalties more severe than mere private individuals.  Religion is an all-powerful weapon.  ‘The priest,’ says Montesquieu, ’takes the man from the cradle, and accompanies him to the tomb;’ is it then astonishing that he should have so much control over the mind of the people, and that it is requisite to make laws, in order that under a pretence of religion it should not trouble the public peace?  What should be the nature of such a law?  I maintain that one only can be efficacious, and that is banishment from the realm. (The tribunes hailed this with loud applause.) Do you not see that it is necessary to separate the factious priest from the people whom he misleads, and send away these plague-spotted men to the lazarettos of Italy and Rome?  I am told that the measure is too severe.  What!—­you are then blind and mute at all that occurs!  Are you then ignorant that a priest can effect more mischief than all your enemies?  I am answered, ’Ah! you should not persecute.’  My answer is, that to punish is not to persecute.  I answer thus to those who repeat what I heard retorted here on the Abbe Maury, that nothing is more dangerous than to make martyrs.  This danger only exists when you have to strike fanatics in earnest, or men really pious, who believe the scaffold to be the nearest footstool to heaven.  This is not the present case; for if there be priests who earnestly reject the constitution, they will not give any trouble to public order.  Those who really trouble it, are men who only weep over religion in order to recover their lost privileges; those who should be punished without pity; and be assured that you will not thereby augment the strength of the emigrants:  for we know that the priest is cowardly—­as cowardly as vindictive—­that he knows no other weapon but superstition; and that, accustomed to combat in