elected to the Assembly, and arrived in Paris yesterday; there below you will find his maiden speech, in which he declares for the Republic." And, sure enough, below were the few words that he had addressed to the Assembly on taking his seat. But in what French! The Parisians not only caricatured his person, but heaped on him the greatest indignity for a Frenchman; insinuating that he spoke a patois of his native tongue, making f's of all his v's, and accusing him of saying "foulez-fous" instead of voulez-vous. We relate this merely to show with what contempt Louis Bonaparte was received in Paris on his return from exile and imprisonment. The patois hinted to him his long residence in Switzerland, and carpetbag and dog his outfit and companion in prison.

But how soon things changed! In a little while the despised exile had become the "nephew of his uncle," and in a few months more we saw him inaugurated as the President of the French Republic.

And now Ollivier steps upon the scene. Born in Marseilles, he had, like every ambitious Frenchman that is able to do so, repaired to Paris to finish his legal studies. With these he was busily engaged when the revolutionary storm burst over France, and he entered heart and soul into the strife. His father, an inflexible republican of earlier revolutions, hastened to Paris to meet his old comrades, and claimed, not for himself but for his son, a recognition of the services he had rendered, and the sufferings endured in the cause of the Republic. His claims were acknowledged, and young Ollivier, but twenty-three years of age, was appointed general commissioner of his native city, Marseilles, and the whole Department of the mouths of the Rhone; but while he was nominally Governor, it was understood that the main responsibility would devolve on the more experienced father.

Ollivier bore this wonderful change of fortune more stoically than many of his friends. In mien and bearing he was a mere youth, but in actions and moral power and influence he showed the selfpossession of age. Some attributed this

to an overweening self-conceit; others, who knew him better, declared it to be simply an indication of that rare independence of character that has since induced him so many times to stand alone in political strife. But he began to rule the fickle republicans of Marseilles with classical speeches, of which they quickly tired, and in their waywardness he soon had an opportunity to disabuse himself of some of the fancies of youth. They desired the most rapid progress in the radical arena; he tried to check a blind enthusiasm. He called them fanatics, and they replied with retrograde, and renegade from freedom; some of the more violent even branded him with the appellation of traitor.

His first effort at governing was a complete failure, and he soon gave it up in disgust and returned to his legal studies in Paris, in some respects a wiser man. He had taken rather a costly lesson in the school of experience, but one which strengthened him for life. He left the political arena, but remained republican in faith, though repudiating the Jacobinic tendencies of the extremists of the early days of the Republic. He now threw his whole soul into the law, and surprised his friends by the beauty and finish of his eloquence, the acuteness of his perception, and the stern logic of his deductions. He soon rose to distinction. He was pitted against the most eminent pleaders at the French bar, and his successful conflict with Berryer secured him enduring reputation, so that the liberal electors of Paris chose him in 1857 as their representative in the Chamber, and thus called him back to political life.

He conquered in a triangular contest; the government candidate being on his right, and a representative of extreme democracy on his left. In his confession of faith to the electors he declares: "Events have not altered my convictions; but there are two kinds of democracy: the one is broad-hearted, sympathetic, and turned towards the future. It grows by assimilation and not by exclusion. It believes that the time for phrases is past, and that of science is come. The moral and material improvement of the working

classes, and the development of trade and credit, is its aim, and freedom is its means. It teaches when it can, but never strikes nor excludes. Of this freedom we now see the dawn; it is to you to lead this dawn to the perfect day." This platform elected him by a large majority, and this triumph may truly be called the dawn of freedom, since for six years not a liberal voice had been raised by the first Chambers under the Second Empire.

The usurper had instituted the form of a representative assembly in the "Corps Legislatif," but practically it was a mere voting machine to say Yes, to his propositions, and had ever submissively done 80. But in this new Assembly Ollivier found four colleagues to join him in saying No, to propositions that they were not allowed to discuss, or if by chance a few dissenting words were permitted, they never reached the press, and therefore not the people. These five faithful ones were Ollivier, Favres, Picard, Herron, and Darimon. For six years this little band faced the reactionary tendencies of the great majority of the Chambers, and these "historic five" will ever be remembered in the history of the Second Empire as the faithful champions of the French people in presence of a throne that was endeavoring to suppress their liberties. Ollivier's greatest honor and strongest claim on the liberals of France is the fidelity with which he clung to this little band in measures which seemed at times of doubtful propriety. But he knew the necessity of so small a phalanx presenting a solid front, and when it came to the vote they never broke ranks, but remained a standing protest against tyranny and usurpation. Thus they were ever identified in measures before the world, when there was perhaps not entire unanimity among themselves; but as they had no privilege of giving the motives of their votes they cast them in a solid negative.

And these solid noes were so many daily reproofs from the people to the throne, which by their faithful application brought at last the liberal decree of November, 1860. This famous decree granted the printing of the speeches in full, and in the

debates on the address to the throne, a full discussion regarding the internal and external policy of the nation, and also permitted the interpellation of the ministers respecting their acts, which enabled the opponents of the Government directly to reach their men in the conflict. This new state of things opened the door to each individual man to take his course more independently; and thus came the epoch at which Ollivier began publicly to differ at times from his liberal colleagues, and especially from Jules Favres, the famous leader of the extreme radical sentiment in the Chamber at that time.

Ollivier's celebrated speech on this decree contains the following political creed in the form of an eloquent appeal to the Emperor: "If one is at the head of a nation of 36,000,000, and is so welcomed by it as we are daily told; if one by the strength of this heroic people rules as it were the world, by turning fortune to whatever side he may turn; if one is the most powerful among princes, and has found the favor of destiny inexhaustible; if one's life is like a legend, escaping from prison, surviving exile, and ascending the throne of France; if one has experienced every grief and every joy,--then there remains still an inexpressible joy to be experienced, which surpasses all others, and lends undying fame; namely, that of courageously and voluntarily becoming to a great people their guide to freedom, repelling weak-hearted and faithless counsellors, and stepping directly before the nation. On that day when this call shall go forth, there may still be men who will remain true only to the memories of the past, or who will bury themselves too deeply into the hopes of the future; but the majority, I guarantee it, would hail it with enthusiasm. And as for me, I would admire, I would help; and my assistance would be so much the more effective as it would be wholly unselfish."

This thrilling apostrophe to the Emperor created a great excitement among friends and foes, and inaugurated a new phase of the struggle with the dynasty. It was clear that Ollivier, under certain conditions, believed in the future of the

Empire, and desired its life with liberty, rather than its death by revolution. His radical colleagues, on the contrary, believed it incapable of life with liberty, and were ready, so far as their oath of allegiance would permit, to hasten its decline and collapse. The break between them was therefore clear, though it made no public demonstration. The "historic five" still worked together for the remaining three years of the existence of that Assembly, and their activity in debate and opposition was most effective in preparing the people for the election of a new legislative body. At times Ollivier appeared with the most radical demands absolute liberty of the press, its subjection to the ordinary laws, and abolition of the obnoxious press-laws; free-trade, untrammeled industry, and the right of assemblage. Then again he would demand the responsibility of the sovereign, justifying the instinct of the nation in placing the responsibility of an action where it saw the exercise of power; but his colleagues found him illogical in not following out the sequence to the absolute and sole right of the people.

Thus they fought on together till the approach of the elections of 1863; with these Ollivier entered on a new phase of his career, and his breach with his former comrades was complete. Many began to cry treason, which accusation he met with the calm reply that he had entertained the same sentiments longer than they had imagined, but in the interests of liberty he had retained unbroken the ranks of the little Spartan band of opposition. He now issued a new platform for himself alone, and with it went into the canvass: Our aim is the league of liberty and democracy. The means is jus tice. Without democracy, liberty is the privilege of the few; without liberty, democracy is the oppression of all. I wish neither privilege nor oppression. To praise always is servile; to censure under all circumstances is unjust. I am neither for systematic accord nor systematic opposition." On this platform he was elected to the new Assembly by a majority of 8,000 votes. His former colleagues

were returned by a more radical element, but on the other hand quite a number of constitutional monarchists like Thiers were also sent, so that the new political campaign began with an opposition numbering seventeen instead of five. But it was so different in its internal shading that it was clear that it could no longer work together as a solidarity, except on unusual occasions, when the question was one of simple opposition to the dynasty.

The Second Empire now entered on a new phase of its existence. Three years of parliamentary debate, mainly called forth and sustained by the "historic five," had succeeded in rousing the French nation from its lethargy, and inducing it to take a new interest in political progress. The mass of the French peasantry, under the manipulation of government officers, remained true to their traditional conservatism, and by their votes gave a large conservative majority to the Chamber; but the greater part of the intelligent middle classes, especially in the cities, had awakened again to a self-consciousness, and consented to co-operate with the workingmen in securing a larger share of personal and civil liberty. The result was that although the decided and actual opposition numbered but 17, nevertheless some 40 or 50 members could be brought together who would harmonize in demanding a liberal concession, more in accordance with the spirit of the age and the dignity of the nation.

This influential fraction soon became the distinguishing characteristic of the new House, and Ollivier, as a matter of course, became its leader. It was a new party, and assumed the name of the "Third Party." It accepted the Empire, but apon the express condition of the largest liberty compatible with its existence. But it was composed of elements so totally different in themselves that it necessarily divided into numerous little bands of the most varied convictions. These had their chosen leaders and select formulas. Some demanded the responsibility of the sovereign, others only that of the ministers, and claimed that they should personally defend their measures before the Cham

intended to entice the dynasty into the way of ruin. Prominent personages in the immediate surroundings of the Emperor gained faith in the possibility of the experiment, and at last the Emperor himself began to read the speeches of Ollivier, and was soon convinced that the period demanded the fulfilment of the reforms promised in 1860. De Morny, the most skilful statesman of the Second Empire, was impressed with the same convictions, had gained Rouher over to his plans, and went so far as to invite Ollivier to be the third one of the league; but the latter replied with the simple promise of his support in the Chamber. But De Morny's death caused a delay in the discussion of the question, and Rouher, relieved from the pressure of the fallen statesman, ignored his previous steps, and returned to his severe Imperi alism.

In the whole course of this history Rouher has exerted so much influence over the Emperor as to receive the derisive title of Vice-Emperor; after his Majesty had been in the hands of the latter he came out fearfully conservative, for Rouher seemed inclined to outvie the throne in declaring all concessions as impossible, and incompatible with the constitution. But Walewski, who also exerted much power over the Emperor, was in sympathy with the reform projects of Ollivier, and thus Napoleon had never let them entirely drop from his thoughts. In the summer of 1865 the Emperor had managed, by a skilfully arranged chance meeting in the apartments of the Empress, to have a long interview with the liberal reformer, and to receive from him a full development of his views on the prominent political questions of the day. A few months afterwards Ollivier was surprised with an invitation to an interview with the Emperor, who desired his co-operation in the execution of the projected reforms, and offered him the portfolio of Public Instruction. Ollivier listened to the Emperor, but laid down so liberal a programme as the conditions of his acceptance, that the consummation of the

matter was deferred until another interview. At this second meeting Ollivier took occasion to request the Emperor to relieve him from assuming any ministerial responsibilities, no doubt fearing that the more immediate surroundings of the throne would finally exert the greater influence on the monarch. But the liberal deputy had the satisfaction of knowing that his policy had at least been adopted by the throne, and that he had done despite to the railings of his enemies, by declining a ministerial position in the implied interest of liberal reform.

Ollivier afterwards addressed a letter to his Majesty, succinctly detailing the position that he desired to be understood as assuming in the interview, and received this remarkable answer from him: “Although I am resolved to follow the path whose aim I explained some months ago to Walewski, I nevertheless desire to have a previous consultation with you and Rouher regarding the details of its execution. Believe me, that what restrains me is neither indecision nor a vain jealousy of my prerogative, but the fear of depriving myself of the means of restoring moral order-the essential foundation of liberty-to this land so agitated by manifold passions. That which troubles me regarding the laws of the press, is not the difficulty in finding the power of suppression, but the manner in which criminal excesses are to be designated in a law. The most dangerous articles may escape condemnation, whilst the most insignificant may be struck by the rigor of the law. Here the difficulty has always lain. Notwithstanding this, in order by decisive measures to exert an influence on all minds, I would desire with one act to restore what we may call the crown of the edifice. I would desire to do this in order not to be obliged to return to this subject, since it is a matter of high import to me and the country to arrive at a definite condition. The goal that I would reach must be boldly placed, that it may not appear that I am forced to concessions from year to year; for one falls, as Guizot says, always towards the side to which he leans, and I wish to walk firmly and di