5 SEPTEMBER 1874, Page 13

CORRESPONDENCE.

ised," and the process was not in a respects a pleasant one.

left unfulfilled by the great revolutionist of modern mdility are still being carried out. The budget of the city is 16 millions of francs less but recently still further, the Municipal Council too soon from self, and think he fell power.

I suspect, indeed, that Baron Haussmann gets credit for more good than he deserves. To the English experience of the late Emperor is no doubt due the wondrous transformation of old Pop us quarter of public gardens,—one at least (that of the Buttes Chau- mont) of park-like dimensions,—and with its now beautiful Champs an Elysees. But I cannot help fancying that the marvellous improve ry best fitted to preside over a quiet, constitutional Republic, the more disposed to give M. Alphand credit for the beautify- deserts. Is there a more hideous building in Europe than the be hoped for, but he is looked

new Opera House? A huge French meat-pie (tourte) spoilt in li

the baking is the only thing under heaven of which it reminds one, indeed to Perhaps the greatest outward change in the Parisians which I notice within the l al self-love, heartlessness of the man. Those who speak most last twenty-five years is their increased fond- ness for plants and flowers. They ways had it in them at to bottom, and nothing was moreuching of old, passing through to some narrow, foul-smelling street, than notice, high up on the im described it to me, long ribbons of gore floated down the Seine— the cobceas and scarlet-runners carefully trailed on strings. But flowers and plants have become almost a necessity of Paris life un and trade. I remember the time when there was but one

44 first At present there is also a certain revival of business, since Marche aux Fleurs,"—I remember the slow and sickly fit

growth of the second around the Madeleine ; now there are the dispersion of the ill-starred Assembly. The working- four, and a fifth one about to be established, all flourishing, man is much better dressed than he used to be, and seems and the original one stretching far beyond its former limits. The to take at least as much amusement. But in spite of the very butchers' shops (I refer particularly to Duval's) are turned bustle in the streets, and the throngs of carriages (nine out of ten into shrubberies. The extent to which tropical plants are being indeed hired ones, even in the Champs Elysees or the Bois), there acclimatised is llous. I have seen castor-oil plants growing te in a friend's garden near Versailles far handsomer in leaf and to let may be observed by any passer-by. Beggars abound in the flower than any I ever saw in the West Indies ; it is true that they streets, and the case of some is known to be so hopeless that the

do not ripen their seeds. very policemen, whose duty it is to arrest them, get out of their Another marked change for me, especially if I look back, as I way, in order not to interfere with them. But the worst sufferings, am sorry to say I can, for nearly fifty years, is the comparative of course, are those which do not seek relief from mendicancy, silence of the people in public conveyances, but especially in the and these are in many cases complicated by the cruelest partisan- railway trains. I never travelled in one of the dusty, choky old ship. To call a man a " communard " or a woman a " petroleum," diligences of former days, but what every French tongue within however undeserved may be either epithet, gives, it is said, in it had begun wagging before the first hour was out. I have this more than one "arrondissement," the right to let them starve.

year, for the first time, seen Frenchmen travel five, seven hours by Never before have I left France with such feelings of moral rail, without opening their lips to a fellow-traveller. In the Paris uncertainty about her future, but also never with such a pro. omnibuses, in the pleasure trains to the suburbs, the same thing found conviction that her present was intolerable. A benevolent is perceptible, though to a less extent. The French, even the lady, who spent many a day among the Communist prisoners at Parisians, are learning to keep their counsel, and the stranger has Versailles, told me that what had struck her most among them nothing like the chance which he used to have of entering into was the want of all sense of right and wrong, but especially of the habits and thoughts of the people by merely listening to their wrong ; of right, they had at least a dream. But it is just this talk. I may say that only on one occasion, returning from Ver- want under which the whole nation nearly is suffering. Surely sailles, did I witness anything of the outspoken talk between the world never saw so impudent a usurpation of power as that

persons who had never met before which used to be so frequent.

And what a story was told! A master chairmaker, who stated that

PARIS REVISITED, 1874.-1. his fortune was made, boasted that he owed it all to the Ateliers

Nationaux

To revisit at long intervals a city which at one time was for in 1848, when, being a working-man, but having a many years your home, and in which you have retained inti-

friend as overlooker, he received two francs a day, besides bread, mate personal relations, is, perhaps, one of the best means of wine, and what not, for his wife and three children (one of whom, he observed, was away at Dijon), without ever doing a stroke of judging the transformations which it has undergone, moral as well work for the public, and simply employing his pay as capital to as material. Since 1849, I had not set foot in Paris till now, but all buy materials, and to work for his own benefit. is successful in 1863. The city was then in full process of being " Haussmann- This thief was; of course, " un homme bien peasant," a supporter of the

Since then, the Haussmann era proper has been closed, but an Government, and hoped that Macidahon would go through all epigonic era is proceeding, in which some at least of the projects France, and establish 44 un pouvoir solide."

With this exception, I may say I spoke with none but friends, differing more or le in opinion, but who certainly concealed to the bad, the already exorbitant octroi duties have been raised nothing from me. And this brings me to the strongest contrast has not the which the Paris of to-day offers to my recollections. Outwardly, courage or the self-denial to rely on the rating of property for a nothing is more wonderful than the recovery of the city from the terrible trials of 1870-1. Except the ruined Tuileries, the half- financial sheet-anchor, the population is already swarming out of restored Vendeme Column, and the vacant space where stood the new limits of the metropolis for the sake of cheaper living, re and yet there are those who regret the unscrupulous dile him- once the Ministere des Finances, there is scarcely one prominent memorial remaining of the destruction wrought by the Commune or by the shells of the " Versaillais." The streets are thronged with foot-passengers and with carriages ; the outer aspect of the population seems to betoken either by industry or well-to-do

Paris, with its two public gardens of the Tuileries and the leisure. But for the first time in my experience—although I have Luxembourg (for the Parc Monceaux, now thronged with people known Paris on the morrow of two revolutions and of many a - all the day long, was then virtually out of Paris), its dusty Champs

bloody insurrection—from no single person with whom I con

Elysees, and no trees to speak of in its thoroughfares beyond versed rsed did I hear one expression of real hope forthe future.

Some might think that the drift of politics w towards the those of the interior and exterior Boulevards, the Quays, the as Observatoire, and the Place Royale, into the new Paris, full in every Empire, some could not believe an Empire possible. But with a the tone was the same,—dark and desponding. "People talk ll of changing Governments," said a member of the Assembly to me, a man whose name stands very high in his country's literature, m "for the last fifty years I have known but one and the sameeat upon his London model which we now observe is mainly Government, which, as soon as it is established, begins to bind due to M. Alphand, whom I take to be about the greatest genius that

landscape gardening has yet produced. What a triumph of art down the people." "Idiots or knaves" (cretins ou coquins), said is that little square of the Rue Richelieu, at the angle of the Rue another, of a more cynical turn of mind, "those are the only two classes of people by whom I have ever known this country Louvois ! Red Lion Square would, I suppose, make two of it, and yet it is picturesque almost to grandeur, through the choice governed." I heard but one voice of utter disgust for the Assembly, of utter contempt for MacMahon's capacity. It is of the masses of foliage-plants which surround its fountain,—

admitted that in no party is there one leader who inspires con- heavy ivy-covered stumps in front, slender-leaved cannas (if I fidence. Grevy is pretty generally deemed to be the man mistake not) next, and in the rear, broad-foliaged callas. I am best fitted to preside over a quiet, constitutional Republic, the more disposed to give M. Alphand credit for the beautify- if such a thing as a quiet or constitutional Republic cod lag of Paris, that the architecture of the Imperial era has few could make one. to on as o old to A certain impartiality, formerly not to be found, seems have grown out of despondency. Those who speak most highly of Thiers' past services, admit the narrowness, notice within the l al self-love, heartlessness of the man. Those who speak most bitterly of those terrible massacres after the Commune, which he, at least, permitted—when for a week the prisoners were shot in the jails simply to make room for more, when, as an eye-witness described it to me, long ribbons of gore floated down the Seine— the cobceas and scarlet-runners carefully trailed on strings. But extent quite hoped for, and work was beginning to be found for all, all, at least, who remained after the siege and the Commune.

44 first At present there is also a certain revival of business, since Marche aux Fleurs,"—I remember the slow and sickly fit

marvellous. is unquestionably much and bitter distress. The number of shops of this Assembly, every one of whose members knows that he was only elected for a purely temporary purpose (a friend of mine, who described to me the farce, in which he had taken part, of the voting for Versailles during the German occupation, declared that not a vote would have been given if men had dreamt that the Assembly was to be permanent), and. which yet not only will not dissolve, but tries to perpetuate itself by the scheme of a Second Chamber to be selected out of it, and which would, of course, comprise every member of it who is certain not to be re-elected. The name of the Republic is on the coinage, on the stamps, and yet the whole administration of the country is so honeycombed with treason and lying, that to call oneself a " Republican " is everywhere a title to official dis- favour,—in the South, men have even been arrested for crying " Vive in R4publique !" The country is in the profoundest peace, and yet forty-two departments are under martial law,- i.e., under no law at all but the arbitrary will of officials. This is no figure of speech. Only the other day, one of the best provincial papers was suppressed for reproducing an article of a Paris paper, which itself had given rise to no proceedings ; and this, I was told, was only one out of eight or nine similar instances, the object of which seems to be simply to crush the influence of the Parisian Press in the provinces. Can we realise the fact that in one-half of France any man, woman, and child is liable, with- out the slightest chance of any remedy whatsoever, to be ordered or forbidden to do this, that, and the other, sent away, arrested, imprisoned, punished, as if the enemy were still present? I have always felt that England could never bear for one week the ad- ministrative shackles of the best Government I have ever yet known in France. I do not say that the Septennate represents the worst. But I feel certain that before England had en- dured this latter for three days, a flame of righteous indigna- tion would burst forth from every quarter of the land which would burn it to powder. And I come back still more convinced than ever that the French, who are considered ungovernable, are simply the most governable people that ever was ; a people which has never known what freedom or self-government is, and may not learn the lesson for yet a century,—which is ready to obey, for at least long stretches of years at a time, either coquin or crilin who may seize or slip into power, if it can only make money and be at