tarving poor
mad. That has many crimes to answer for, but not this one, I think. One
may not attribute to this man a generous indignation against the wrongs
done the poor; one may not dignify him with a generous impulse of any
kind. When he saw his photograph and said, "I shall be celebrated,"
he laid bare the impulse that prompted him. It was a mere hunger for
notoriety. There is another confessed case of the kind which is as old
as history--the burning of the temple of Ephesus.

Among the inadequate attempts to account for the assassination we must
concede high rank to the many which have described it as a "peculiarly
brutal crime" and then added that it was "ordained from above." I think
this verdict will not be popular "above." If the deed was ordained from
above, there is no rational way of making this prisoner even partially
responsible for it, and the Genevan court cannot condemn him without
manifestly committing a crime. Logic is logic, and by disregarding
its laws even the most pious and showy theologian may be beguiled into
preferring charges which should not be ventured upon except in the
shelter of plenty of lightning-rods.

I witnessed the funeral procession, in company with friends, from the
windows of the Krantz, Vienna's sumptuous new hotel. We came into town
in the middle of the forenoon, and I went on foot from the station.
Black flags hung down from all the houses; the aspects were Sunday-like;
the crowds on the sidewalks were quiet and moved slowly; very few people
were smoking; many ladies wore deep mourning, gentlemen were in black
as a rule; carriages were speeding in all directions, with footmen and
coachmen in black clothes and wearing black cocked hats; the shops were
closed; in many windows were pictures of the Empress: as a beautiful
young bride of seventeen; as a serene and majestic lady with added
years; and finally in deep black and without ornaments--the costume she
always wore after the tragic death of her son nine years ago, for her
heart broke then, and life lost almost all its value for her. The people
stood grouped before these pictures, and now and then one saw women and
girls turn away wiping the tears from their eyes.

In front of the Krantz is an open square; over the way was the church
where the funeral services would be held. It is small and old and
severely plain, plastered outside and whitewashed or painted, and with
no ornament but a statue of a monk in a niche over the do