with
penetration classical criminology, always in revolt against the
threadbare commonplaces of juridical tradition, and M. Garofalo, the
anti-socialist, the orthodox sociologist, the conservative follower of
tradition, who finds that all is well in the world of to-day. He who
distinguished himself before by the tone of his publications, always
serene and dignified, now permits us to think, that he is less convinced
of the correctness of his position than he would have us believe, and
to cover up this deficiency of conviction screams and shouts at the top
of his voice.

For instance, on page 17, in a style which is neither aristocratic nor
bourgeois, he writes that "Bebel had the _impudence_ to defend the
Commune in a public session of the Reichstag;" and he forgets that the
Commune of Paris is not to be judged historically by relying solely upon
the revolting impressions left upon the mind by the artificial and
exaggerated accounts of the bourgeois press of that time. Malon and Marx
have shown by indisputable documentary evidence and on impregnable
historical grounds what the verdict on the Commune of the impartial
judgment must be, in spite of the excesses which--as M. Alfred Maury
said to me at the Pere-Lachaise, one day in 1879--were far surpassed by
the ferocity of a bloody and savage repression.

In the same way, on pages 20-22, he speaks (I can not see why) of the
"contempt" of Marxian socialists for sentimental socialism, which no
Marxian has ever dreamt of _despising_, though we recognize it is little
in harmony with the systematic, experimental method of social science.

And, on page 154, he seems to think, he is carrying on a scientific
discussion when he writes: "In truth, when one sees men who profess such
doctrines succeed in obtaining a hearing, one is obliged to recognize
that there are no limits to human imbecility."

Ah! my dear Baron Garofalo, how this language reminds me of that of some
of the classical criminologists--do you remember it?--who tried to
combat the positivist school with language too much like this of yours,
which conceals behind hackneyed phrases, the utter lack of ideas to
oppose to the hated, but victorious heresy!

* * * * *

But aside from this language, so strange from the pen of M. Garofalo, it
is impossible not to perceive the strange contrast between his critical
talent and the numerous statements in this book which are, to say the
least,