spects the law of nature. This is the apex of crime; and to root it out, the highest stations of society must be assailed. Persons of exalted rank are tainted with this leprosy, which has lately spread to a dreadful extent. At the sight of venerated names in the list of the modern Sardanapali, we can but shudder at the frailty of humanity; and yet this list makes mention only of those who have been reduced to the necessity of sending for the police, or allowing them to interfere in the disgraceful scenes which they brought on by their own turpitude.
It has been publicly stated that I shall not speak of the political police: I shall speak of all police now existing, from that of the Jesuits to that of the court; from the police of the 'ladies of the pavé' (bureau des mœurs) to the diplomatic police (a system of espionage established by the powers of Russia, England, and Austria); I will show up all the wheel-work, great and small, of those machines which are always set in motion, not for the sake of the general weal, but for the service of him who introduces the drops of oil; that is to say, for the benefit of the first comer who dispenses the cash of the treasury: for when we mention political police, we mention an institution created and maintained by a desire of enriching certain persons at the expense of a government whose alarms it perpetually excites. When we talk of a political police, we talk of the necessity of being incribed in the budget of secret expenses;—the necessity of giving a concealed destination to funds visibly and often illegally levied (such as the tax on prostitutes, and a thousand other trifling imposts);—the necessity for certain administrators to create important wants, asserted to be for state exigencies;—the necessity, in fact, of extortions for the profit of a vile herd of adventurers, intriguers, gamblers, bankrupts, pilferers, &c. Perhaps I shall be fortunate enough to point out the inutility of those perpetual agents destined to prevent attempts which are "few and far between,"—crimes which they have never foreseen,—plots which
