have done more than this—it was I who gave
Brissot and Condorcet to France. These great philosophers
have unquestionably ridiculed and opposed the priests;
but they have not the less courted kings and grandees,
out of whom they have made a pretty good thing. (Laughter).
You do not forget with what eagerness they persecuted
the genius of liberty in the person of Jean Jacques
Rousseau, the only philosopher who, in my opinion,
has deserved the public honours lavished for a long
time on so many political charlatans and so many contemptible
heroes. Brissot, at least, should feel well inclined
towards me. Where was he when I was defending
this society from the Jacobins against the Constituent
Assembly itself? But for what I did at this epoch,
you would not have insulted me in this tribune; for
it would not have existed. I the corrupter, the
agitator, the tribune of the people! I am none
of these, I am the people myself. You reproach
me for having quitted my place as public accuser.
I did so when I saw that that place gave me no other
right than that of accusing citizens for civil offences,
and would deprive me of the right of accusing political
enemies. And it is for this that the people love
me; and yet you desire that I sentence myself to ostracism,
in order to withdraw myself from its confidence.
Exile! how can you dare to propose it to me? Whither
would you have me retire? Amongst what people
should I be received? Who is the tyrant who would
give me asylum?—Ah! we may abandon a happy,
free, and triumphant country; but a country threatened,
rent by convulsions, oppressed; we do not flee from
that, we save, or perish with it! Heaven, which
gave me a soul impassioned for liberty, and gave me
birth in a land trampled on by tyrants—Heaven,
which placed my life in the midst of the reign of
factions and crimes, perhaps calls me to trace with
my blood the road to happiness, and the liberty of
my fellow men! Do you require from me any other
sacrifice? If you would have my good name, I
surrender it to you; I only wish for reputation in
order to do good to my fellow-creatures. If to
preserve it, it be necessary to betray by a cowardly
silence the cause of the truth and of the people,
take it, sully it,—I will no longer defend
it. Now that I have defended myself, I may attack
you. I will not do it; I offer you peace.
I forget your injuries; I put up with your insults;
but on one condition, that is, you join me in opposing
the factions which distract our country, and, the
most dangerous of all, that of La Fayette: this
pseudo-hero of the two worlds, who, after having been
present at the revolution of the New World, has only
exerted himself here in arresting the progress of
liberty in the old hemisphere. You, Brissot, did
not you agree with me that this chief was the executioner
and assassin of the people, that the massacre of the
Champ-de-Mars had caused the Revolution to retrograde
for twenty years? Is this man less redoubtable
because he is at this time at the head of the army?