Holding the opinions he did, it was inevitable that Clemenceau should put the case of the Anarchists such as Vaillant, Henry, Ravachot. They were the victims of a system. They could not rise as a portion of a collective attack against the unjust class dominion and economic servitude which crushed them and their fellows down into interminable toil with no reward for their lifelong sufferings. So they made war as individuals for anarchy. _Vive l'Anarchie!_ were the last words of Henry. The man was a fanatic. "The crime seems to me odious. I make no excuse for it," says Clemenceau, but he objects to the capital penalty. "Henry's crime was that of a savage. The deed of society seems to me a loathsome vengeance." Clemenceau compares, too, the anarchists of dynamite to the would-be assassin Damien, so hideously tortured before death. "My motive," said he, "was the misery which exists in three-quarters of the kingdom. I acted alone, because I thought alone." The anarchist, asked by his mother why he had, become an anarchist, answered, "Because I saw the suffering of the great majority of human beings." Vaillant, Henry, Caserio and their like are overmastered by the same idea as Damien. They kill members of the king caste of our society of to-day in order to scare the bourgeoisie into justice. There is no arguing with honest fanatics of this type. Whether society is justified in guillotining or hanging them is another matter. That their method is futile, as all history shows, gives society the right if it so chooses to regard it also as criminal. The above is all argument and criticism put with almost savage vigour. But Clemenceau used likewise the lighter touch of French irony. Thus a wretched family of father, mother and six children, tramping along the high road near Paris, found some coal which had dropped from a wagon long since out of sight. They pick up these bits of chance fuel as a godsend. They have gleaned after the reapers. Straightway, the story of Boaz and Ruth occurs to Clemenceau, of Boaz and his descendant of Nazareth, who is the God of Europe to-day. The Hebrew Boaz, the landowner of old, gladly leaves the wheat-ears to be gleaned by Ruth and marries her into the bargain. The Christian Boaz, the coal-owner of our time, gets the males of the distressed family of coal-gleaners six days' imprisonment. Such is progress through the centuries! The moral of the whole story is brilliantly touched in.