be hated. He was a madman, but he was a hero. The conduct
of Flourens at the Hotel de Ville in the night of the 31st October is
hardly in keeping with so favourable a view. The French forgive and
forget with facility--let that pass.

[Illustration: COLONEL FLOURENS.[40]]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 38: Prison of Detention.]

[Footnote 39: The following is still more naive:--A man takes a
return-ticket for the environs, and sometimes finds a guard silly enough
to allow him to pass on the supposition that such a ticket was
sufficient proof of his intention of returning to Paris.

Others get into the waiting-room without tickets, under the pretext of
speaking to some one there.

M. Bergerat, a poet, passed the barrier in a cart-load of charcoal.]

[Footnote 40: Flourens was born in 1838, and was the son of the
well-known _savant_ and physiologist of this name. He completed his
studies with brilliancy, and succeeded his father as professor of the
College de France. His opening lecture on the History of Man made a
profound impression on the scientific world. However, he retired from
this post in 1864, and turned his undivided attention to the political
questions of the day. Deeply compromised by certain pamphlets written by
him, he left France for Candia, where he espoused the popular cause
against the Turks. On his return to France he was imprisoned for three
months for political offences. Rochefort's candidature was hotly
supported by him. In 1870 he rose against the Government, with a large
force of the Belleville _faubouriens_. He was prosecuted, and took
refuge in London. After the fourth of September he was placed at the
head of five battalions of National Guards. He was again imprisoned for
having instigated the rising of October, and it was not till the
twenty-second of March that he was set at liberty. On the second of
April he set out for Versailles at the head of an insurgent troop. He
was met midway by a mounted patrol, and in the _melee_ that ensued he
was killed.]

XXXII.

In the midst of so many horrible events, which interest the whole mass
of the people, ought I to mention an incident which broke but one heart?
Yes, I think the sad episode is not without importance, even in so vast
a picture. It was a child's funeral. The little wooden coffin, scantily
covered with a black pall, was not larger, as Theophile Gautier says,
"than a violin case." There were few mourners. A woman, the mother
doubt