"Quant à moi, mon cher ami, je ne puis que constater ici, comme je l'ai déjà fait, comme je le ferai en toute occasion, la dette que nous avons contracté, envers vous. Vous nous avez donné votre temps, votre activité, votre éloquence, votre âme, la meilleure partie de vous-même en un mot. La France, que vous avez été seule à défendre, ne l'oubliera jamais.
"Je n'ai aucune nouvelle de Bordeaux, ni de Paris outre celles que vous avez pu lire dans les journaux. Nous allons voir ce quefera l'Assemblée, ce qu'elle decidera—et nous agirons, s'il y a lieu en conséquence.—Au revoir, cher et excellent ami. Je vous envoie toute mon affection.
Ch. Tissot."[146]
When the French elections took place in February 1871, Mr Bradlaugh was one of the candidates nominated by the city of Paris. I am under the impression that this was done without his wishes being in any way consulted, but the very proposal of his name—testifying, as it to some extent did, the honour in which he was held in Paris—roused scorn and anger at home. The editor of a Scotch paper,[147] in writing a leader on the elections, relieved his feelings by saying: "'Bradlaugh, English Republican,' figures in the list among the motley crew; but what number of votes were polled for this cosmopolitan patriot, who would have been a dumb dog in a French Parliament, has not transpired." As the "motley crew" included such honoured names as those of Garibaldi, Louis Blanc, Ledru Rollin, and Victor Schœlcher, it was a distinction to be placed beside them; but why, asked my father, should it be assumed that he would be dumb? "Thomas Paine," he added, "who did not speak French, was not a 'dumb dog' when he pleaded for the life of Louis XVI."
[CHAPTER XXXII.]
THE COMMUNE, AND AFTER.
During the Commune my father found himself in a position of extreme difficulty. His heart was with the men who had been driven by most frightful suffering to wild words and still wilder deeds. Some of the oldest and the best amongst his French friends were playing their parts in the tragedies daily enacted in Paris; some, like the amiable Gustavo Flourens—who has been described by Mr Washburne, then United States minister, as a "young scholar," and one of "the most accomplished of the agitators and revolutionists"—were laying down their lives; others, like those kindly and learned brothers, Elie and Elysée Reclus, were sacrificing their liberties. My father's whole being throbbed in sympathy with these men; but sympathise as he might, his reason could not commend, and he remained sadly silent, unable to approve, but refusing to condemn.
This feeling of standing aside whilst so many old and dear friends were risking life and liberty was torture to a man of his temperament, and when an opportunity occurred for active help on his part he welcomed it with joy. This opportunity came in the form of a request from some of the French leaders that he should act as intermediary between the Government of M. Thiers and the Commune. As a foreigner and a known friend of France, it was hoped that his intervention might be possible, and might lead to good results.