conscience was awakened; the speech was echoed through France with frantic applause. The briefless barrister, who, in November, 1868, was scarcely known beyond the circle of his private friends, was within a few months the terror and judge of the empire.

In the general election of 1869 Gambetta was a Republican candidate, and, after a hot contest with the opposing forces of imperial officialism, was returned to the Chamber of Deputies. As a representative for Marseilles, he took his place on the extreme left. The early disasters in the war of 1870 afforded him opportunities to prod the government on the military situation. Gambetta believed that the destinies of the nation were in the hands of an unscrupulous adventurer and his creatures. The gravity of the crisis demanded plain speaking, and the issue was clearly put before the Chamber August 13, 1870, as to whether deputies had made their choice between the salvation of the country and the salvation of the dynasty. He declared that the people were being deluded by fabricated declarations of the ministry, and that the country was being hurried towards an abyss blindfolded and helpless. The hirelings of the empire tried in vain by menacing gestures to silence the oracle of the people. He boldly faced them with the withering denunciation, that the proper attitude of those who had never lifted their voices save in obsequious acquiescence was that of silence and remorse.

Tragic events were at hand which were to place Gambetta in power on the ruins of the Second Empire. In less than a month the imperial army of over 85,000 men, with the emperor at its head had surrendered at Sedan, September 2, 1870. On the following day the dynasty was deposed, the republic was proclaimed, and Gambetta was minister of the interior; but Paris was surrounded by the Germans, and he was shut up in the beleaguered city. Escaping by balloon on the 8th, he arrived at Tours on the 9th, and issued patriotic proclamations to rouse the inhabitants of the provinces against the invaders. The people responded with wonderful alacrity. Most strenuous efforts were put forth; the armies of the Loire, under Chanzy, and the army of the North, under Faidherbe, and lastly the army of the East, under Bourbaki, were organized

in an incredibly short space of time. But all these patriotic efforts were frustrated by Bazaine's surrender at Metz with his splendid veteran army. France's sword-arm was shattered. A generation of the Empire had crushed the national spirit. Gambetta alone roused France from that torpor which was the sure precursor of national death. The penniless barrister upheld her banner against fearful odds, raised before her eyes the image of the Republic instead of the Empire, restored something of her ancient spirit, and made France feel that she was still a nation and a power in Europe.

The Third Republic was founded, and the National Assembly met at Bordeaux early in 1871, but had a majority of royalists, who rejected his passionate appeal to prolong the war. The new Republic had many vicissitudes to pass through. Thiers, who had deserved so well of his country, was driven from power in 1873. Gambetta had given proof of his audacity in 1868, and of his resolution in 1870; but no one yet credited him with the sagacity displayed in the great struggle between the Republic and a renewal of despotism engineered by President MacMahon in 1877. No one knew so well as Gambetta the details of every constituency in France. The whole machinery of the Republican Party was in his hands, and it was he who concentrated, restrained and sustained the available forces and led them to victory. He compelled Marshal MacMahon to resign, and Grévy was made President. Gambetta refused himself to take the presidency, as not suited to his talents, and became Speaker of the Chamber.

In 1880 the Republican Party split into factions, and ministry after ministry was compelled to resign for want of support. Gambetta, at last forced to be premier, courted certain defeat by proposing the scrutin de liste instead of the scrutin d'arondissement. His object was to secure a higher class of deputies than local favorites and political managers. But the measure would have sent back newly elected members to fresh elections, and was therefore destined to be rejected. Even when fallen from power he was still the central force and natural chief of the Republican Party. He stood out clearly as the one man who was at once the most revolutionary, and yet the most conservative; a foremost power in Europe, and

yet a man of the people in origin, interest and sympathy. Death revealed what Gambetta was to the republic, to France and to Europe. His political life, which was but a fragment, closed tragically on the 31st of December, 1882, at the age of forty-four. He died of blood-poisoning from the accidental discharge of a revolver. At his obsequies Europe beheld for the first time in the century one of her foremost men committed to the tomb without the aid of the church. Yet the French nation lamented and eulogized the illustrious citizen who had been her savior and champion in the days of her direst perils.

GAMBETTA SAVES FRANCE.

There were many at the time who considered that France ought to have surrendered unconditionally after the disaster at Sedan. Her armies had been beaten, the fortune of war had proved adverse. Let her give up her provinces, suffer her sons to be incorporated into a nationality which they hated, and accept without further ado her shame and humiliation. That judgment has long been reversed. It is now all but universally acknowledged that in determining to continue the war, at whatever odds, France acted in the spirit of her splendid past, and, through reverses and disaster, kept her pride of place among the nations unforfeited. A great people does not live by bread alone. It lives, among other things, by its fortitude under trials, its stern reluctance to accept defeat, its intense and passionate feeling of unity. And because Gambetta never faltered in this conviction through one of his country's darkest hours, therefore his name will remain a name of honor to all time in his country's annals, and be as a light in the dark hours that may come hereafter.

Nor was he a mere eloquent voice summoning France to battle. The amount of hard administrative work which he performed during the four months of his dictatorship was simply marvelous. No doubt his efforts were unsuccessful. The armies he raised so toilfully proved powerless to hold the field against the Germans. One by one his plans for the relief of Paris proved abortive and failed. But in judging of these failures it is right to bear in mind with what materials he had to

work, and against what difficulties. Everything had to be created anew in those improvised armies of his, and created, with wholly insufficient time, in the face of the enemy, and amid the demoralizing influences of defeat. The very nature of the strategical problem he had to solve-the relief of Paris -compelled him constantly to take the offensive prematurely with troops that scarcely knew their drill; nor, without detracting in any way from the merit of Chanzy and Faidherbe, or even of d'Aurelles de Paladine, can it be said that he was seconded by a commander of genius, or even of commanding ability. Of course he made mistakes, and too habitually expected the impossible. But his plans were not all ill-laid; they were plans that might, on more than one occasion, have proved successful save for some untoward circumstance, such, for instance, as the fall of Metz.

On all these points we may freely accept the German verdict. Baron Colmar von der Goltz, together with much criticism of detail, has nothing but admiration for the "giant's work which Gambetta accomplished in less time than any previous organizer of armies;" for the great skill and economy of his financial administration; for the remarkable penetration with which he perceived the great lines of truth in the military operations, and seized upon the vulnerable points in the position of his adversaries. And Baron von der Goltz concludes, "If ever, which God forbid, our country should undergo such a defeat as the French suffered at Sedan, I trust most fervently that there may arise among us a man like Gambetta to kindle in every heart a desire of resistance to the last bitter end."-F. T. MARZIALS.

A STATELY ship sails out from her anchorage to reach her distant haven. If we could mount as eagles fly, and watch the winged vessel as she makes her course, with what mystified feelings we should follow her winding track! Her compass is set for the straight course east; her supreme intent is to reach that eastern point with unsurpassed speed. Yet here she swerves aside, deserts the direct line, and we see no obstacle to justify it. And now she hauls down those broad sheets the breeze is bending so magnificently to their task; strange that the aid of the friendly winds should be despised. Here comes a storm, a conspiracy of all the elements to hinder the good ship's progress; now she will defy them, she will fling out larger sails and make more steam, and point her prow more doggedly than ever direct to her goal. But no, she meekly strips her masts of what sails are up, doing their best; she muzzles her engine, and actually gives up the struggle as she takes a lazy fit of wallowing in the trough of the waves. We marvel at the folly, until second thoughts