FRENCH ELECTIONS. F RANCE is content with the Republic and with
M. Waldeck-Rousseau, but Paris is bored. That is, we take it, the broad meaning of the French elections. They are not over yet, the provoking, though logical, system of second ballots in districts where no candidate has a clear majority of the votes recorded delaying final returns ; but enough is known to make it certain that the present Government will face the new Chamber with a majority exceeding a hundred. There has been no " landslide " crushing out opposition such as some Republicans hoped for, and no explosion of reaction such as many quiet observers thought possible; but irresistibly, though quietly, France has pronounced her will that what is should for the present continue to be. M. Delouse in particular, upon whom all French Jingoes had concentrated their wrath, has been re-elected at the first ballot by an over- whelming majority. Here and there a district has returned a vehement " Nationalist " to declaim against the Govern- ment. Occasionally a cleric has been returned, eager to secure revenge for the Law of Associations. Advocates of Legitimatism, of Bonapartism, of the Republique plais- eitaire, which means Dictatorship, have been sent up by districts in which a feeling for Monarchy is traditional ; but a majority of the electors—if we count in, as we should, the heavy Republican minorities, an immense majority— have voted for the Republic as now constituted. They have voted, moreover, without compulsion, for though the bureaucracy has undoubtedly influenced them, and the bureaucracy is more or less in Ministerial hands, the " strong-fisted " Prefects of the Napoleonic regime have been removed, and. the voters, unless actually seeking place, obey their own convictions. The people of France, considered as an entity, have endorsed and approved the system under which they live. After thirty-one years' experience, during which a new generation has grown up to mature life, the people see nothing in the Republic to induce them to prefer any other method of being governed. They like the Republic well enough, and are content with those who administer its affairs.
Paris is the great exception. It is true that Paris has only partially "gone Nationalist," the suburbs remaiaing Republican, and true also that the total vote thrown for the Opposition is less than the vote thrown for General Boulanger; but still it is not to be denied that Paris has shown strong symptoms of a desire for a new regime. She cannot be said to have agreed with France, and it is well worth while to consider how much or how little her recalci- trant attitude may mean. It means a good deal, though not so much as it would have meant a century ago. It has become the custom in this country to deny that Paris is any longer France, to question if she is truly representative, to assert that the Departments are awake, and that they no longer take their cue from the great city whose action the tradition of the Revolution and the experience of the Commune have taught them to dread. Intelligence, it is said, has become more diffused ; the rural folk, hearing all things, decide for themselves; and the peasantry have become aware that ultimate power is in their own hands, and that when Paris assumes to dictate she in fact menaces their sovereignty. Communication is much more rapid, the provincial centres have grown larger, and with the division of the land and the new ability to save the horror of the peasantry at Parisian ideas about property has become acute. The people, it is alleged, have become accustomed to act for themselves, and no longer look to Paris for the word of command. All this is true, as it is also true that historians a little exaggerate the power of Paris even in the Revolution, during which much of her worst impulses came with the Terrorist leaders from outside. Neverthe- less, the weight of Paris is very great, and she can be a source of great embarrassment to a steady Republican Government. She can compel the Government to watch her, a fact which of itself compels the Government also to watch and conciliate the Army. She dictates the opinion of the Press, which is much more concentrated in the capital than with us. She is greatly consulted by all foreign Powers, who necessarily form much of their opinion on the evidence of Parisians ; and above all, she possesses the initiative. Rapid as communication is, Paris, if not tightly held by the soldiery, can overthrow a Govern- ment in twenty-four hours ; and if her populace and her garrison coincide, can present to France a fait accompli with which it is most difficult to deal. proclaimed for example, that on Sunday the garrison had p ed the Russian General, Prince Louis Napoleon—who was in Paris—Emperor of the French, and the populace had approved, what could the provinces have done except agree, or commit themselves to all the uncertainties and horrors of civil war? Paris, in fact, if not the mistress of France, which she certainly is not, is still the anxiety of France; and the Ministry, though it will meet the Chamber with all the strength derived from a renewed mandate, will still lack the security and ease it would have felt had Paris and the provinces been unanimous. What is the cause of the separation of Paris from the rest of the country ? We believe the cause to be in the main that which is indicated in the first sentence of this article. Paris is bored. The Republic may be all that its admirers contend, but to her it appears to have another and less charming quality. It is humdrum. Partly from her history, partly from being the rendezvous of all that is ambitious, vain, and esurient in France, and partly from the " genius " which gradually moulds the people of every great city, Paris thirsts for an element of the dramatic in politics which the Republic is unable to supply. Its rulers have no fancy for grand coups; they are not seeking war but protective alliances ; they are the centre of no splendours ; and they give no subjects for excited talk. They prefer, in fact, that government should not be scenic, while Paris prefers that it should be. She is there- fore dull ; and Paris when she is dull is discontented, and ready to accuse any government, no matter what, and seek relief in a change of governors, no matter whom, if only they will give her lively times. So far as can be perceived, she rather despises all the Pretenders. She has no candidate for the Dictatorship. If she wishes for war in the abstract, it is not for any particular war. All she knows clearly is that she wants something to be done which will make the world stare, and give to herself the feeling she most enjoys,—that of being fully alive. The respectable Republic which the provincials approve,. because it gives them order and justice, slow but fairly steady improvements, and plenty of local expenditure on roads and useful buildings, does not and cannot give her this, and therefore Paris frets, and anathematises the Government, for which all the while she has no practicable alternative to offer. She will continue to fret, we fear, until events in some way grow exciting, and her fretfulness will always be a cause of anxiety to her rulers. They know it, however, and her, they keep a strong control on her movements, and while France supports them they will move forward in a fairly determined way. France has probably never had a better Government than the present, or one more solicitous to secure her permanent well-being, and it is highly to her credit that in spite of the vindictive- ness of the Church, and the disappointment of the Monarchists, and a situation which does not allow of a harvest of glory to be reaped abroad, the majority of Frenchmen have perceived this, and have voted what is at least a consent that it shall continue to go on. Whether the Parliamentary system when in strong hands like the present suits France is still not completely decided, but it is abundantly clear that for the present it neither revolts Frenchmen nor disappoints them sufficiently to induce them to overthrow it.
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