one who, like him, could stir the crowd and give
pleasure to the few; pour out his overflowing genius
not only in his speeches and social treatises, but
also in his philosophical and historical works; ¹ and
leave on all things the impress of his personality, the
furrow of his robust labor, the seeds of his pro-
gressive mind. I have listened to him often in the
Chamber, at socialist congresses, at meetings held
on behalf of oppressed nations; he even did me the
honor of presenting my Danton to the people of
Paris. Again I see his full face, calm and happy
like that of a kindly, bearded ogre; his small eyes,
bright and smiling; eyes as quick to follow the
flight of ideas as to observe human nature. I see
him pacing up and down the platform, walking with
heavy steps like a bear, his arms crossed behind his
back, and turning sharply to hurl at the crowd, in
his monotonous, metallic voice, words like the call
of a trumpet, which reached the farthest seats in the
vast amphitheatre, and went straight to the heart,

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