“The provinces, who for a moment hesitated, plunged as they were in that evil habit of waiting for everything to come from above and never undertaking anything themselves, the provinces also have awakened to the inspiration of a powerful genius and have risen as one man. They also are up and resolute. They are animated by the same spirit, penetrated by the same conviction, and inflamed with the same courage. All France is in arms. She has lifted high her flag, on which she has written: “Victory or death!” He still listened without a movement. Had I spoken into space? Was silence to fall before the conversation had well commenced? Was this silence to be interpreted as approval, or, on the contrary, was the eminent statesman’s mouth closed by the painful impression of complete disapprobation? I looked into his eyes and said: “I have spoken frankly and sincerely to you, from the very bottom of my heart; have you no answer to give me?” His profound blue eyes rested on mine for a moment, then he said slowly, almost stumblingly: “M. Thiers, who came to see me, has already spoken to me as eloquently as you have to-day. “All that you have done is admirable, and France has shown an elasticity which has astonished everyone. I have already said so to M. Thiers. I repeat it gladly, and I can add with the utmost sincerity that our admiration has only augmented and increased since that time. We have attempted to intervene in your favour as much as the situation permitted. We have done all we could to stop this war, which we deplore. But we are not listened to. We have neither the right nor the power to interfere in an affair which does not concern us. We desire greatly that the war should be finished. We have made many efforts to arrive at least at an armistice, but the Government in Paris has refused the armistice which we have tried to negotiate....” He again fixed his blue eyes on me as if to ask me: “Why has this armistice been refused?” It seemed to me to be an unfair question, and I said with a certain amount of spirit: “Pardon me, M. le Comte, one cannot accuse the Government of Paris of rejecting an armistice and means of coming to terms. On the contrary, they have done everything humanly possible to bring it about, but an armistice without re-victualling--that is to say, an armistice with the prospect of starving Paris out, while Prussia is recruiting her strength, was not acceptable, and Prussia refused any other kind of armistice.” “This refusal,” said he, mechanically lowering his eyes, “was not reasonable. An armistice would have prevented many inconveniences to Prussia and considerable difficulties to France, and the Government could, at any rate, have profited by it to form a legal representation of the country.” I was astonished at these words which appeared to me absolutely unfair.