THE "REVOLUTIONARY ARMY" AND ITS STRENGTH.
ASTORY was circulated for a moment in London last week, and even appeared in the Times, which suggested that Paris might very speedily be in revolution. It was stated that 130,000 workmen, chiefly of the lower and hardy class, were out of work, that they had recognised their own numbers, that they had appointed delegates, and that the delegates had informed the Members of the Extreme Left that they could wait no longer, that they must have work, and that they should descend into the streets. Even allowing for the in- crease of sensational description which has of necessity followed the substitution of telegraphic bulletins for letters, that was an ominous announcement, and thirty years since would have affected all the Bourses of Europe. This time, however, though the statement appears to have been true, no consequences fol- lowed, the Funds remained stationary, the Chamber showed no excitement, and when asked for a grant, rejected " urgency " for the proposal, and there was not even a riot in the streets. The fact is significant of a great change, which has occurred not only in France, but all over the Continent, the great decline in the effective force of the Revolutionary Army encamped in great cities. The enforcement of universal military service and the adoption of breech-loading rifles have almost paralysed insur- rection. The artisans are quite as numerous as they were, quite as distressed at times, and, perhaps, more generally given —especially in Paris and Berlin—to extreme opinions ; while the proportion of them who have been soldiers and are familiar with arms is very much larger than of old. Nevertheless, they are proportionately very much weaker for street fighting. The number of trained soldiers kept in garrison is much greater, and the arms with which they are provided are much more terrible. Formerly, rulers attacked mobs with cavalry, who could be stopped by barricades ; or with infantry, bearing muskets not much better than those in the hands of the in- surgents. Now, the Generals in command use light artillery, against which ordinary barricades will not last, and urge for- ward masses of infantry trained to machine-like discipline, who pour out of the new rifles a continuous rain of bullets, against which even soldiers can hardly be induced to stand, and which actually withers mobs. Mobs, even when composed of drilled men, huddle together, and in those circumstances under modern fire the proportion killed in ten minutes is too great for human courage to endure. Even religious fanaticism shrinks before that storm, and political or social fanaticism has not yet reached that level. Moreover, this terrible power is not only more sternly used by those who control it, but is much more fully appreciated by the masses than the old power. The rulers are more tempted to slay as if in battle, because they think, after the experience of the Commune in Paris and Carthagena, that they are protecting civilisation and society, as well as them- selves ; while the military drill of the people, which should increase their courage, acts in the other way. The artisans have passed through the mill, and they all realise with painful clearness what it is for crowds armed with scratch weapons, and half supplied with ammunition, to face Regulars armed with breech-loaders, and carrying sixty rounds per man. It is not your old soldier, as Wellington pointed out, who is least afraid of the bullets, and insurgents who have been in the ranks know best the effect of modern fire.
And finally, the soldiers have, we believe, become more trust- worthy. It is a matter for experienced non-commissioned officers to decide, but unless we are mistaken, the relations between the garrisons of great Continental cities and the citizens have materially altered for the worse. The Red leaders, especially the Socialists, have gone further in extreme opinions than the soldiers, who for the most part will inherit little farms, can understand, much less agree with, and are betraying a most irritating hatred of soldiers merely as such. The soldiers respond, they feel a certain fear of attack when wandering about, and they obey orders to fire with the dreadful readiness always shown when classes are angrily opposed. The masses, therefore, not only have less chance, but know it, and shrink from e'meutes with a new fear. We do not say the day of such movements is gone by, for we do not know whether social or political passion will or will not penetrate the ranks in uni- form; but we do say that till it does, the threat of descending into the streets will cease to exercise its old, paralysing influ- ence on politics. External order, whatever it is worth, has gained a new and effective guarantee.
Whether the change will produce only good, as most English- men will at once assume, it is difficult to say, for as yet we know singularly little of the ultimate tendency of universal drill. It may stereotype Governments, and it may release them from their fear of innovation. As yet, the result has not been good, for moderate Liberals have lost power everywhere, dis- affection has taken new and darker forms, and the rulers of the Continent have been at once paralysed and embittered by incessant threats of assassination, just so often carried out as to make defence in the effective fashion, by thick walls, deep moats, and highly-paid guards, seem at once cumbrous and cowardly. We should say that since 1866, Kings have been distinctly less willing to trust their peoples; while the practice of assassination has markedly increased, and the "disaffected" seek more impossible and anarchical objects. Little, however, can be formulated from the experience of only seventeen years. It is not probable that assassination will last as a great dread in politics. Epidemics of crime rarely endure, and this par- ticular form of it has appeared and disappeared many times in history. The assassins may perceive that the crime is useless or directly injurious to liberty, the peoples will find that universal suffrage steadily used will yield them all they seek, and then the new Social safety derived from the scientific organisation of Armies may prove a source of social development. English- men hardly understand how disturbing an influence the fear of invasion is, or how life has been embittered on the Continent by the dread entertained by all employers of too much liberty among the employed. Arrangements like Poor-laws, Trades Unions, and Benefit Societies, which here are considered natural and beneficial, are there regarded as conces- sions to the rising spirit of anarchy,—injuries to property, not advantages to labour. A strong security which terminated that fear would allow of a great advance of society, and that in a direction in which rulers—who for the most part dislike the prosperous, and pity the very poor—will be quite willing to take the lead. A kingdom ruled by a wise Parliament, in which the masses could not descend into the streets, but could in the long-run influence legislation, would not necessarily be an unhappy State. At all events, whatever the effect of the change, there can be no doubt whatever of its having occurred. In Paris, Vienna, Berlin, Rome, Moscow, the physical power of the lowest class to overturn or arrest Governments has markedly declined, till a descent into the streets would, in the judgment of very rash leaders, be as foolish as an insurrection in Ireland would be in the eyes of the Clan-na-Gael. The people have every- where but in Russia gained new suffrages, but they have lost old potencies, and the result everywhere should be a stillness favourable at least to the development of material civilisation. Amid that stillness there should be a new burst of intellectual energy, and though we do not see it in litera- ture or art, and only hope for it in theology, we do see it—as in the stillness which followed the exhaustion of 1815—in some branches of material progress. If the experiments now con- ducting in Paris for the transmission of unimpaired electrical energy over long distances should succeed—and the savants have hope—man's power of dominating nature will be multiplied manyfold, and he should, therefore, be the happier, for his burden of work will be less. He probably will not be, for he gains very little by all his knowledge ; but at least his power of being happier, if he is only a little wiser, will be increased, and that is something.
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