THE GREAT PA.RIS FAIR.
THE Republican leaders in France have, we believe, shown wisdom in encouraging the International Exhibition, opened by the President of the Republic in Paris on the 1st of May. It is true that the world has grown rather tired of these big shops, and the endless official fuss in " inaugurating " them, and the absurd hymns which exhibitors, hoping for "acknowledgments of merit" to be used as advertisements, sing about their influ- ence on the regeneration of the world. They are of very little use, except to teach the buyers for large shops where to go for the best articles ; and of very little interest, except to those who prefer huge galleries of pictures and gigantic museums of bric-d-brac, and endless arrays of pretty toys, to smaller col- lections of the same articles. There will be, we suppose, some advance in machinery, and in the application of science to the purposes of life, and some extension of artistic taste, but it is safe to say that the Exhibition will do little for man, except hurry him a trifle more. An International Exhibition is now a big fair, with rather costly articles on the stalls, and that is all. Nevertheless, the Republicans, as we have said, are wise in encouraging the show. Paris is Paris, the city of the most intelligent and most unruly children in the world, and it is wise, when it can be done harmlessly, to gratify Paris to the full. And she is gratified, not only because every body has gone to Paris, and hotel-keepers will make fortunes, and shopkeepers will grow rich, and for a month there will be more of the many-coloured bustle which her citizens confound with happiness, but because she has ascertained what she doubted,—that she has lost under a Republic none of her power to attract. Paris must, in her own judgment, fascinate, or fade. The Imperialists had been saying that only an Empire could secure the order necessary to an International Exhibition, and the Monarchists, with their high-sniffing pertinacity, had been repeating that the big people would not come, till Parisians half believed them, and though as Republican as ever, felt that Republicanism was a little triste. It was as well to remove that impression, and it has been removed very completely. Paris is as full of bustle and excitement and lime-light as if a Napoleon or a Bourbon were ordering his people to rejoice, under penalty of Cayenne. With war still threatening in Eastern Europe and all diplo- matists in despair, the French Government still summoned the world to the Parisian fair ; and the world has gone, repre- sentatives from the oldest Royal families in Europe, with the Prince of Wales at their head, taking the lead. The opening ceremonial was not a success, for the Marshal, not being a sovereign, meets with scant politeness from the skies ; the rain rained as it can rain in Paris, as well as in Glasgow ; the troops had to be restored to their barracks ; and all the elaborate arrangements went, as the printers say, "to pie." Everybody, except Marshal MacMahon and the Prince of Wales, got into the wrong place, the crowd of carriages could not approach near enough to the building, the visitors,having to walk in the rain, looked a little draggle-tailed, and as the show was not nearly ready, a majority were bored. Still the fair was opened in state, a hundred thousand vieitors, all with money, are making the shops uncomfortable and rich, and Paris has settled with herself that a Republic is not neces- sarily associated either with asceticism or gloom. She is indeed so pleased with herself that her voluntary illumina- tion in the evening was a great display, and the Republic has scored a success, only accentuated by the annoyance of the Legitimists and wealthy Imperialists, who have pronounced the whole business "low," and gone off to the country in a huff, unnoticed except by the Royal visitors, who feel themselves distinctly relieved. It is not a very noble success, perhaps, or one to excite much enthusiasm in men who do not own shares in hotels ; but still there is little harm in it, and a Republic is none the less a good ship because it is dressed with flags, and gala-days and days of frolic are recognised on board. The Exhibition is not much worse than a decade of Derby Days.
Many Englishmen, we see, reading of the Fair, and bethink- ing themselves how near Europe is to war and its horrors, and reflecting how completely England and her fortunes are sur- rendered to a showy maker of epigrams, are inclined to taunt Frenchmen with showing both frivolity and selfishness. They ought, they think, to be preparing for war in aid of England, or interfering to keep the peace, or in some way or other making themselves manifest in Europe. The selfishness we may con- cede, though an English shopkeeper would sell his goods if London were on fire ; but we would have all such grumblers about frivolity just to think over the history of France for the last six years, and then ask themselves if their discontent is well founded, and if in accusing Frenchmen of frivolity they have not confused their man- ners with their character. We can conceive of nothing less like frivolity than the public conduct of France awing that long period. Almost any other nation with a history like hers, a history which for a thousand years has been one of perennial excitement, with her sensitive pride, and with her great remaining strength, would after such a defeat have displayed a spirit of touchy susceptibility, would have always been anxious to prove her existence, and would have interfered in every combination. France, once convinced of the necessity of recuperation, has betaken herself in the stillest calm to the revival of her strength. She has announced to all Europe that for a time she is in retreat, and she has kept her word. Her statesmen and people have acted together almost in silence to reconstitute her army. Enormous sums, amounting to an average of £25,000,000 a year, have been spent upon military preparations. The conscription has been thrown over the whole population, discipline has been thoroughly re-established, and drill has been carried on till the life of a French soldier has become almost too burdensome to bear. The officers have been re-educated, all party differences have been sup- pressed to obtain Generals, and the arsenals have been refilled, until the Army of France is again in a position to guarantee not only her independence, but her rightful place in the affairs of the world. And nevertheless her rulers abstain absolutely from fuss and fidget, declare that France is not yet ready to abandon her policy of abstinence, and amidst all the tempting opportunities of this Eastern Question remain as tranquil and, to outward appearance as neutral, as if France were an island in the South Pacific. When the great dispute opened they took the occasion to settle their quarrel as to the form of Government, and now that it threatens to involve the world, they ask the world to visit them and their great Parisian show. All this while, amidst contests which threatened civil war, amidst events which have shaken all other Powers out of their tranquillity, while battling with each other, while re- modelling all institutions, while playing the fool, they have pushed on, unhasting, unresting, their great double task, to make France powerful and to make France rich. In these tasks men as diverse as MacMalion and Ciambetta, bodies as different as the last Assembly and the present Chamber, classes as separated as the philosophers and the small proprietors, have pulled together silently. Reds have lavished money as freely as Bonapartists, and the only contest between Mon- archists and Liberals has been which method promised most and speediest results. More than this, the noisiest democracy in Europe has voluntarily reduced itself to silence. There is no question a French Red would not ask of officials, save one which might impede reorganisation. Everything is promised to Paris by the Ultras save lower expenditure on the Army, and everything offered to the peasants by both sides except a lightening of their heaviest, the military, burden. If set, per- sistent work like this, carried on for years, in silence, with no resounding success to cheer the workers, implies frivolity, what would imply earnestness of purpose ? One of these days, Europe, England perhaps included, will wake up to perceive that the work is done, that the Frenchman, with other quali- ties of the South, has the persistence, independent of time, which characterises its children ; that as the individual Gaul never, under all his gaiety and love of amusement, forgets his interest or his fixed idea, so France as a nation, though hold- ing files and quarrelling over constitutions, can carry out an immense purpose with a cold, silent tenacity which our countrymen, who think they have a monopoly of the practical, have but seldom in their history displayed. The International Exhibition is only a fair, and half of those who appear in it are only actors ; but those misread France who think that either her mirth, or her selfishness, or her frivolity implies feebleness of purpose. Prince Bismarck does not think so, or he would not hope so hard that the Eastern Question may wear out all possible allies of France.
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