“Soldiers!  Look at this sash.  It is the symbol of Law, it is the National Assembly visible.  Where there this sash is there is Right.  Well, then, this is what Right commands you.  You are being deceived.  Go back to your duty.  It is a Representative of the People who is speaking to you, and he who represents the People represents the army.  Soldiers, before becoming soldiers you have been peasants, you have been workmen, you have been and you are still citizens.  Citizens, listen to me when I speak to you.  The Law alone has the right to command you.  Well, to-day the law is violated.  By whom?  By you.  Louis Bonaparte draws you into a crime.  Soldiers, you who are Honor, listen to me, for I am Duty.  Soldiers, Louis Bonaparte assassinates the Republic.  Defend it.  Louis Bonaparte is a bandit; all his accomplices will follow him to the galleys.  They are there already.  He who is worthy of the galleys is in the galleys.  To merit fetters is to wear them.  Look at that man who is at your head, and who dares to command you.  You take him for a general, he is a convict.”

The soldiers seemed petrified.

Some one who was there (I thank his generous, devoted spirit) touched my arm, and whispered in my ear, “You will get yourself shot.”

But I did not heed, and I listened to nothing.  I continued, still waving my sash,—­“You, who are there, dressed up like a general, it is you to whom I speak, sir.  You know who I am, I am a Representative of the People, and I know who you are.  I have told you you are a criminal.  Now, do you wish to know my name?  This is it.”

And I called out my name to him.

And I added,—­

“Now tell me yours.”

He did not answer.

I continued,—­

“Very well, I do not want to know your name as a general, I shall know your number as a galley slave.”

The man in the general’s uniform hung his head, the others were silent.  I could read all their looks, however, although they did not raise their eyes.  I saw them cast down, and I felt that they were furious.  I had an overwhelming contempt for them, and I passed on.

What was the name of this general?  I did not know then, and I do not know now.

One of the apologies for the coup d’etat in relating this incident, and characterizing it as “an insensate and culpable provocation,” states that “the moderation shown by the military leaders on this occasion did honor to General ——­:”  We leave to the author of this panegyric the responsibility of that name and of this eulogium.

I entered the Rue de Faubourg St. Antoine.

My driver, who now knew my name, hesitated no longer, and whipped up his horse.  These Paris coachmen are a brave and intelligent race.

As I passed the first shops of the main street nine o’clock sounded from the Church St. Paul.

“Good,” I said to myself, “I am in time.”