would make!"

Eloquence is not at the Bar. The pleader rarely puts forth the real
powers of his soul; if he did, he would die of it in a few years.
Eloquence is, nowadays, rarely in the pulpit; but it is found on certain
occasions in the Chamber of Deputies, when an ambitious man stakes all
to win all, or, stung by a myriad darts, at a given moment bursts into
speech. But it is still more certainly found in some privileged beings,
at the inevitable hour when their claims must either triumph or be
wrecked, and when they are forced to speak. Thus at this meeting, Albert
Savarus, feeling the necessity of winning himself some supporters,
displayed all the faculties of his soul and the resources of his
intellect. He entered the room well, without awkwardness or arrogance,
without weakness, without cowardice, quite gravely, and was not dismayed
at finding himself among twenty or thirty men. The news of the meeting
and of its determination had already brought a few docile sheep to
follow the bell.

Before listening to Monsieur Boucher, who was about to deluge him with
a speech announcing the decision of the Boucher Committee, Albert begged
for silence, and, as he shook hands with Monsieur Boucher, tried to warn
him, by a sign, of an unexpected danger.

"My young friend, Alfred Boucher, has just announced to me the honor you
have done me. But before that decision is irrevocable," said the lawyer,
"I think that I ought to explain to you who and what your candidate is,
so as to leave you free to take back your word if my declaration should
disturb your conscience!"

This exordium was followed by profound silence. Some of the men thought
it showed a noble impulse.

Albert gave a sketch of his previous career, telling them his real name,
his action under the Restoration, and revealing himself as a new man
since his arrival at Besancon, while pledging himself for the future.
This address held his hearers breathless, it was said. These men, all
with different interests, were spellbound by the brilliant eloquence
that flowed at boiling heat from the heart and soul of this ambitious
spirit. Admiration silenced reflection. Only one thing was clear--the
thing which Albert wished to get into their heads:

Was it not far better for the town to have one of those men who are
born to govern society at large than a mere voting-machine? A statesman
carries power with him. A commonplace deputy, however incorruptible, is
but a conscience.