o the General's coffers from all parts of France; great
names, grandes dames, giving largely and openly to the cause--a great
deal sent anonymously and a great deal in very small sums.

Boulanger lived in our street, and I was astounded one day when I met
him (I did not know him) riding--always with a man on each side of him.
Almost every one took off his hat to him, and there were a few faint
cries of "Vive Boulanger," proceeding chiefly from the painters and
masons who were building a house just opposite ours.

Certainly for a short time he had the game in his hands--could, I think,
have carried the country, but when the moment to act arrived, his nerve
failed him. It is difficult to understand what made his great popularity.
Politics had not been satisfactory. The President--Grevy--had resigned
under unfortunate circumstances. There had been a succession of weak
and inefficient cabinets, and there was a vague feeling of unrest in
the country. Boulanger seemed to promise something better. He was a
soldier (which always appeals to the French), young and dashing,
surrounded by clever unscrupulous people of all classes. Almost all
the young element of both parties, Radical and Conservative (few of
the moderate Republicans), had rallied to his programme--"Revision et
Dissolution." His friends were much too intelligent to let him issue a
long "manifesto" (circular), promising all sorts of reforms and
changes he never could have carried out, while his two catch words
gave hopes to everybody. A revision of the constitution might mean a
monarchy, empire, or military dictatorship. Each party thought its
turn had come, and dissolving the chambers would of course bring a
new one, where again each party hoped to have the majority.

The Paris election by an overwhelming majority was his great triumph.
The Government did all they could to prevent it, but nothing could stop
the wave of popularity. The night of the election Boulanger and his
Etat-major were assembled at Durand's, the well-known cafe on the corner
of the Boulevard and the rue Royale. As the evening went on and the
returns came in--far exceeding anything they had hoped for--there was
but one thought in every one's mind--"A l'Elysee." Hundreds of people
were waiting outside and he would have been carried in triumph to the
Palace. He could not make up his mind. At midnight he still wavered. His
great friend, the poet Deroulede, then took out his watch--waited, in
perfe