Afterward the body lay in state at the Palais Bourbon, the guard standing nearly to their knees in flowers. Over two thousand wreaths were given by friends. Alsace sent a magnificent crown of roses. No grander nor sadder funeral was ever seen in France. Paris was urgent that he be buried in Pere la Chaise, but his father would not consent; so the body was carried to Nice to lie beside his mother, who died a year before him, and his devoted aunt, who died five years previously. Every day Joseph Gambetta lays flowers upon the graves of his dear ones. Circumstances helped to make the great orator, but he also made circumstances. True, his opportunity came at the trial, after the Baudin demonstration, but he was ready for the opportunity. He had studied the history of an empire under the Caesars, and he knew how republics are made and lost. When in the Corps Legislatif a leader was needed, he was ready, for he had carefully studied men. When at Tours he directed the military, he knew what he was doing, for he was conversant with the details of our civil war. When others were sauntering for pleasure along the Champs Elysees, he had been poring over books in an attic opposite the Sorbonne. He died early, but he accomplished more than most men who live to be twice forty-five. When, in the years to come, imperialists shall strive again to wrest the government from the hands of the people, the name of Leon Gambetta will be an inspiration, a talisman of victory for the Republic. [Illustration: D. G. FARRAGUT. (From his Life, published by D. APPLETON & CO.)] DAVID GLASGOW FARRAGUT. The possibilities of American life are strikingly illustrated by the fact that the two names at the head of the army and navy, Grant and Farragut, represent self-made men. The latter was born on a farm near Knoxville, Tennessee, July 5, 1801. His mother, of Scotch descent, was a brave and energetic woman. Once when the father was absent in the Indian wars, the savages came to their plain home and demanded admittance. She barred the door as best she could, and sending her trembling children into the loft, guarded the entrance with an axe. The Indians thought discretion the better part of valor, and stole quietly away. When David was seven years old, the family having moved to New Orleans, as the father had been appointed sailing master in the navy, the noble mother died of yellow fever, leaving five children, the youngest an infant. This was a most severe blow. Fortunately, soon after, an act of kindness brought its reward. The father of Commodore Porter having died at the Farragut house, the son determined to adopt one of the motherless children, if one was willing to leave his home. Little David was pleased with the uniform, and said promptly that he would go.