RUE MORGUE

Louis Lepine, "King of the Paris streets," is dead. For eighteen years this suave, dapper little man ruled the greatest of continental cities as Prefect of Police, tamed the apaches, and with velvet-gloved truncheon put down each uprising of a notoriously restless populace. It was the quiet, tense efficiency of his regime which inspired the novels of Gaborlau, the mystery of Stevenson's "Suicide Club," and the dashing career of Arsene Lupin.

His ingenious thwarting of a series of labor disturbances just before the war serves to illustrate what sang froid and organizing ability Lepine brought to the office of prefect. On the famous "Day of Fear," a hundred thousand disgruntled workers were milling through the city; a host of apaches and incendiary radicals stood ready to exploit them. If riot was to be avoided without bloodshed, Lepine had to prevent the workers from massing at a given point. This he did with a handful of gendarmes and his "mental suggestion maneuvers." From early morning on, scattered marchers bound for a meeting place were systematically deflected down side streets. Detachments of soldiery passing briskly back and forth through troubled districts gave the appearance of a quiet mobilization. Emergency first aid stations, with white stretchers placed conspicuously outside, did much to soothe a fevered populace. On the cobblestones of the vast Place de la Republique, mounted hussars eight or ten abreast, the "Mouquin Merry-go-round," trotted slowly about sweeping little knots of agitators before them. At the end of the day there had been no riot, no new martyrs set up. Paris had been saved from herself with beautiful dexterity.

Modern police have outgrown most of Lepine's clever mechanical innovations for the effective maintenance of law and order. His fleet bicycle janissaries have been supplanted by the radio car, and his glittering troopers by the prosaic riot squad and tear gas. His technique of piercing with swords the tires of hit and run drivers is, perhaps, no longer practical. But the admirable adroitness which characterized his administration suaviter in modo and fortiter in re, will never become out of date. It is a virtue which the modern constabulary might cultivate with profit.