the great controversies of policy and of Socialist relationships with Governments. He surveyed tactics and their results. History, philosophy, common sense, the achievements and failures of the different national movements were marshalled in his support. He played with opponents, he tickled them under the chin, he reasoned with them, he expostulated with them, he knocked them on the head. The room had become stifling; people crushed hard against each other. A space had to be cleared round him, for he had been bringing his fists down upon the heads of his neighbours. His perspiration literally dripped on the floor. Broad purple streaks spread from his tie to his collar and shirt front, and a handkerchief which he kept in his trouser pocket and rubbed across his face with the happy valour of a school-boy, was sodden. Ejaculations came from the listeners; a woman fell from the mantelpiece; one moment there was great din and hubbub, the next you could hear a pin fall. The day faded, dusk glided into darkness; the lights from outside patched the walls with red glow and dark shadow. Still Jaurès went on. Like a brave and lithe man keeping beasts at bay, alert at every point, goading, soothing, killing, he fought. When it ended and he was beaten on a vote, we awoke as from a spell; we looked at the time and saw it was dark and we became aware that hunger was gnawing within
