the Second Empire.
Autobiographies by men who have taken a prominent part in the
momentous scenes which they describe have often the powerful effect of
a dramatic representation: the actors reappear on the stage; they
plead for themselves; they give vivid impressions of the scenes; they
repeat the very words that were spoken; they revive the intense
emotion of the audience during the contest between those who are
hurrying on toward some fatal catastrophe and those who are striving
to prevent it. M. Ollivier's volume is the story of a great historic
tragedy; the principal _dramatis personae_ are celebrities of the first
rank; on their speech and action depend the destinies of France, and
the spectators are the nations of Europe. If we make due allowance for
the fact that the author's main object is to explain and defend the
part which he himself played in these important affairs, we may credit
him with an honest desire to set a strange, complicated, and oft-told
story in a clear light before the present generation.

M. Ollivier cites, in the first page of this volume, Machiavelli's
observation that mankind at large judges those who give advice in
affairs of state not by the wisdom of their counsels but by the
results. He agrees that this method is not rational, looking to the
haphazard course of human affairs, but he admits that the multitude
can judge by no other standard; and he appeals to historians for an
impartial revision of the popular verdict, founded on careful
examination of the real facts and circumstances. Yet he fears lest in
his own country the decline of patriotic enthusiasm, the cooling of
military ardour, that he notices in France at the present time, may
have rendered Frenchmen incapable of realising the hot resentment, the
intense susceptibility to affronts, the element of heroism, which were
dominant forty years ago in the national character. And he therefore
has little or no expectation that the falsehood of legends which have
been circulated regarding the events of 1870 will be proved, to his
countrymen, even by the most irrefragable demonstration. All political
parties in France, he says, have combined to hold their own ministry
responsible for that calamitous war; he despairs of obtaining from
them a hearing. He awaits with resignation the time when some
inquisitive student of history may light upon a dusty copy of his book
in the recesses of a library, and may set himself to explain how these
t