I accuse Lieutenant-Colonel du Paty de Clam of having been the diabolical workman of judicial error,--unconsciously, I am willing to believe,--and of having then defended his calamitous work, for three years, by the most guilty machinations. I accuse General Mercier of having made himself an accomplice, at least through weakness of mind, in one of the greatest iniquities of the century. I accuse General Billot of having had in his hands certain proofs of the innocence of Dreyfus, and of having stifled them; of having rendered himself guilty of this crime of _lèse-humanité_ and _lèse-justice_ for a political purpose, and to save the compromised staff. I accuse General de Boisdeffre and General Gonse of having made themselves accomplices in the same crime, one undoubtedly through clerical passion, the other perhaps through that _esprit de corps_ which makes of the war offices the Holy Ark, unassailable. I accuse General de Pellieux and Major Ravary of having conducted a rascally inquiry,--I mean by that a monstrously partial inquiry, of which we have, in the report of the latter, an imperishable monument of naive audacity. I accuse the three experts in handwriting, Belhomme, Varinard, and Couard, of having made lying and fraudulent reports, unless a medical examination should declare them afflicted with diseases of the eye and of the mind. I accuse the war offices of having carried on in the press, particularly in “L’Eclair” and in “L’Echo de Paris,” an abominable campaign, to mislead opinion and cover up their faults. I accuse, finally, the first council of war of having violated the law by condemning an accused person on the strength of a secret document, and I accuse the second council of war of having covered this illegality, in obedience to orders, in committing in its turn the judicial crime of knowingly acquitting a guilty man. In preferring these charges, I am not unaware that I lay myself liable under Articles 30 and 31 of the press law of July 29, 1881, which punishes defamation. And it is wilfully that I expose myself thereto. As for the people whom I accuse, I do not know them, I have never seen them, I entertain against them no feeling of revenge or hatred. They are to me simple entities, spirits of social ill-doing. And the act that I perform here is nothing but a revolutionary measure to hasten the explosion of truth and justice. I have but one passion, the passion for the light, in the name of humanity which has suffered so much, and which is entitled to happiness. My fiery protest is simply the cry of my soul. Let them dare, then, to bring me into the assize court, and let the investigation take place in the open day. I await it. Accept, _Monsieur le Président_, the assurance of my profound respect. EMILE ZOLA.