of great importance in English political life, and that is the permanence of hope in parties which are temporarily prevented from attaining their objects, and that hope is founded on the changefulness of politics in England. There, any leader of a great political party may hope to become Prime Minister in the ordinary course of events. Neither high birth nor low birth is an obstacle: men of the most widely separated social positions work together in the same Cabinets. The party that is out of office usually considers itself excluded only till the next election. At the present moment the Liberal party feels quite certain of coming into power after the existing Parlia ment. In France the great cause of disquietude is the want of hope in excluded parties, and this hopelessness is due to the want of change in the French system of government. "Want of change!" the reader may exclaim; "why, there is a new French Cabinet every six months!" If the reader has ever happened to be amongst French people when a change of Cabinet was going on, he must have remarked their excessive coolness, amounting in most cases to complete indifference. If he questions them about it, they shrug their shoulders, and say, "Oh, vous savez, c'est toujours la même chose." There is a proverb constantly applied at such times," Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose," and there is a popular ditty : "Pas la peine, pas la peine, Pas la peine, assurément De changer de gouvernement !” Since the resignation of Marshal MacMahon there have been many Cabinets. Not being a political writer by profession, I have not kept notes of them, but believe that the number from that time to this is about fifteen. The English reader may be rather surprised if I add the further statement, that there has been less governmental change in France than in England during the time that these ephemeral Cabinets have lasted. To have a real change, in the English meaning of the word, it would be necessary to go back to MacMahon's Cabinet of Royalist Dukes, representing the ideas and wishes of the country gentlefolks, and there is not the faintest prospect that such a Cabinet will ever be constituted under the Republic. The only approach to a change has been in the other direction, when Floquet, very unwillingly leaving the comfortable and dignified Presidency of the Chamber, tried to form a Radical Cabinet; but in fact he went on with the old system of Opportunist Government, and postponed the Revision of the Constitution as long as possible, not sorry to see it rejected by the House. Stating the case as nearly as one can in English, the truth is that the Liberals have been in power ever since Grévy's accession to the Presidency of the Republic. The existing Tirard Cabinet is not new either in men or in ideas. Moderate Republicanism is still the ruling force, as it has been ever since MacMahon quitted the Elysée. In a word, there have been changes of men, but with great monotony of government. The example of France shows the evils of having one party in office for a long term of years. It is inconvenient even for the party which appears to be successful, for it is so continually occupied in defending itself against its enemies that it becomes conservative in the narrowest sense of the word, and has no leisure or opportunity for revising its policy, correcting its mistakes, and deciding upon new departures. Besides this evil there is another of great magnitude. Many errors of a party that would be forgotten if it quitted office are remembered so long as it retains it. They go on accumulating like a tradesman's account. Ejection from office is like a payment of debts. The French Republicans have now been long in power. They have governed well on the whole, especially in the preservation of peace and liberty along with perfect order, but they have committed certain mistakes, the greatest being an excess of expenditure beyond revenue. So long as they retain power, every mistake is remembered against them, but if the Royalists, instead of keeping the convenient position of critics, had to meet the practical difficulties of governing France in these times the Republicans would probably be able to tell them that they did not manage better. Now, I think it is not difficult to see that in a modern State, where newspapers are very active, monotony in government is sure in the long run to breed dissatisfaction. People desire change, it does not seem to them as if the State were really alive without it; and, although a monotonous Government may do a great deal of useful work, it is not showy enough or striking enough for the readers of newspapers. The present Tory Government of England has been fortunate in having such an important novelty to propose as the County Councils, and if the French Republican Government could have proposed the same thing it would have amused and occupied the public mind, but unfortunately County Councils already exist in France. The chief thing, in civil matters, that the French Republic has been able to accomplish is the extension of education and the building of schools; but that is a subject that does not supply very much material for newspaper articles. In military affairs, no doubt, wonderful progress has been made in the defence of the country, but the cost of it has been so tremendous that, although the country. accepts it without a murmur, it has effectually chilled any enthusiasm about the matter. When the Republicans boast of the reorganization of the army, people cannot help thinking about their pockets, and wondering if it might not have been done a little more cheaply. In private life the French are a remarkably prudent race. A Frenchman likes to make his little private budget for the year, and finds a deep satisfaction in keeping within it; consequently it vexes him to see that the Government never manages to make both ends meet. The people are suspicious, too, that the State does not always get the most for its money, that certain contractors are favoured because they give pots de vin to powerful officials, and it is certain that a very uneconomical system prevails in the public establishments, as the Temps has lately demonstrated in a series of articles, entitled, "Trop de Lois et Trop de Fonctions." Great numbers of civil servants have very little to do, but the Government does not venture to dismiss them, and so the huge administrative machine rolls on in the old monotonous expensive way, without much chance of being amended by the weak and ephemeral Ministers of the present day. The truth is that the permanent officials, whom the public does not know by name, are the real drivers of the machine, and, as a clever French administrator said to me, "it is lucky they are there, for without them we should have nothing but pure confusion." The permanent officials are, in fact, the mainstays of order and continuity. The Republic has been a peaceful Government, except for its adventures in the far East, which have by no means tended to its popularity, and even its peacefulness in Europe has only made the Republican monotony more evident. The interest and excitement of foreign war have been entirely wanting, and that hatred of the foreigner which so often turns aside criticism from internal affairs has expended itself in occasional newspaper articles against the Germans or the English. The political monotony of the Republican Government has been equalled by its social dulness. With the exception of the national fête on the 14th of July (which was brilliant at the beginning), there has been nothing to amuse the people, whilst, as for the gentlefolks, they keep themselves persistently aloof from ail Republican festivities whatsoever. If a Prefect or a Sub-Prefect ventures to give a ball, the gentry in the neighbourhood are sure to keep away from it-in fact, all the Republican officials are under the social ban of the upper classes. This is carried to such a degree that, if President Carnot arrived in an aristocratic neighbourhood, not one of the local nobles would send a carriage to the railway station, or take the slightest notice of him in any way. He has a high character and excellent manners, but personal qualities count for nothing when there is the taint of Republicanism. It goes without saying" that a Chamber with a Republican majority can do nothing to please the country gentlemen, but the disquieting fact is that the Republicans themselves, in the middle and lower classes, are also profoundly dissatisfied with their representatives. They never have a good word to say for the Chamber. They speak of it either with impatience or contempt, and allude to all the parliamentary orators in the lump as "those wearisome talkers in the House." It may be doubted whether, in any age or country, parliamentary eloquence has ever been less esteemed than it is just now in France. In the days of Thiers and Gambetta people would read long speeches, and they took an interest in the minor incidents of debate, which were often amusing. To-day people glance at the long columns of the stenographers, and say, "Ces gens-là sont en train de bavarder comme d'habitude." It follows, from this state of the public mind, that it has become quite impossible for a statesman to make a great reputation in the House. There is a caricature by Mr. Sambourne, in a recent number of Punch, which represents M. Carnot as a cabinet-maker at work upon a cabinet, with a quantity of small busts around him, inscribed with the names of possible Ministers. The Republic, as a young peasant woman, is represented as looking on with a melancholy countenance, and there is a poem in which she is made to say: "My sorrow is that I can find No men to govern me. They come like shadows, and they so depart, Not one with a strong head and dauntless heart Not Amurath to Amurath succeeds In my disordered state; Midget to midget, rather. My heart bleeds The verses are well written and the caricature cleverly imagined, disgust the country with representative institutions. Now consider his allies, the Radicals. Until Floquet came into what is nominally "power," the Radicals had been excluded, like the Monarchists, and though they had some able men amongst them, they could not prove their quality. They, too, occupied themselves with putting sticks into the wheels. The Moderate Republicans appear to have had a better chance, because they are constantly coming back to office; but in reality this is against them, as it uses up their reputations so rapidly. With most uncertain majorities in the Chamber, and the clear knowledge that every Cabinet lives only on the sufferance of its enemies, it is impossible for the greatest of statesmen to do much more than live on from hand to mouth. If Mr. Gladstone had been put into Floquet's place, with Floquet's intimate knowledge of French politics, and hampered as the French Premier was in so many ways, it is doubtful whether even Mr. Gladstone could have done more. Floquet is a man of great ability, of great courage, both moral and physical, and of extreme readiness of resource. He is full of energy, and a first-rate debater in the French manner, not at all the kind of human being that can be justly called a mannikin " " or a "midget." Another career that might have been a great one with better opportunities is that of Jules Ferry, not inaccurately described in an English newspaper as "the most unpopular man in France.' His nature is not what is called "sympathetic," he could never win the heart of a nation, he is not made to be beloved or worshipped; but the idea of calling Ferry a "mannikin" or a "midget" could occur only to a foreigner. The French clergy hate him for his decrees against the unauthorized religious orders, and the people hate him for sending their sons to Tonquin, but nobody in France despises him. Napoleon I. treated the Pope roughly, and sacrificed incomparably more life than Ferry ever sacrificed, yet Napoleon was adored, whilst Ferry is remembered as a ruthless master with a heartless personal ambition. His unpopularity in the country, and the jealousy of him in the Chamber, are likely, it is to be feared, to keep him permanently out of office. The strong man is there, but he is hindered from using his strength in the service of his country. Even Gambetta, who had such influence over the multitude, could not retain office as Prime Minister. 66 The ephemeral character of French Cabinets is not due so much to the fickleness of the Republican party (though that counts for something) as to the presence of such a strong Monarchical minority in the Chamber. It is curious how easily this fact is set aside by English writers and even by the French themselves. French Monarchists will say to you when a Cabinet falls, "Ah! you see how impossible it is for Ministers to gain experience under a Republic. How much more wisely things are managed in Prussia! There, when the Sovereign has got an able Minister, he keeps him. In Prussia a Minister may |