wing himself back in his capacious
chair, folded his arms, sunk his chin upon his breast and closed his
eyes.

Marrast continued his walk.

Flocon remained silent and thoughtful.

Albert gave a significant smile.

"Oppose ceaselessly, but quietly, every act of despotism this Bourgeois
Government may attempt; but, be the result what it may, never admit
yourselves discouraged, depressed, dismayed, defeated. From every fall
rise like Antaeus, with renewed vigor. Nor is it wise or prudent in
those engaged in a great and glorious cause to provoke danger, to brave
penalty, when nothing of good to that cause can reasonably be expected.
Prudence, policy, patience and perseverance accomplish more than
rashness, yet are not inconsistent with intrepidity, boldness,
patriotism and philanthropy the most exalted. Comrades, what says the
past, the past ten years, in whose events we have all so intimately
mingled? Shall I tell you?"

"Aye! 'L'Histoire de Dix Ans,'" said Flocon.

"We are all sure of being immortal there, in that same book of yours!
Eh! Louis?" cried Rollin, opening his large blue eyes.

Louis Blanc smiled and continued:

"Shall I convince you, comrades, by the history of the past ten years,
the scenes we have all witnessed, the events we have all deplored, the
defeats we have all sustained, the insulting ovations we have all been
forced to behold and the unceasing triumphs and tyranny of the House of
Orleans that, had patience and prudence been our motto, these defeats
and triumphs would never have been witnessed, because these premature
revolts would never have been made?"

Albert bowed and gave his peculiar smile.

"Our friend Albert smiles, and well he may. He has had a sad experience
in this error of premature outbreaks. In April, 1834, he exerted every
energy to restrain the revolt in Lyons, as chief of the Societe des
Droits de l'Homme, and as the undoubted friend of the operatives. But
his efforts were futile. Exasperated, urged on by less experienced
leaders, they were in full tide of revolution, and could no more be
restrained in their unwise rising than could the mountain cataract in
mad career be dammed. The result was, of course, defeat--most disastrous
defeat. Hundreds of the people perished, and our friend was imprisoned
and fined for taking part in a movement, which he had in vain attempted
to quell, and then, with the certainty of defeat, had joined, rather
than desert the people who trusted