han the London one. In the first place, there is the absence
of any right to relief. The English workman knows that neither he nor his
family can starve. The Frenchman becomes anxious as soon as his
employment is irregular, and desperate when it fails. The English workmen
are unacquainted with arms, and have no leaders with military experience.
The bulk of the Frenchmen have served, many of them are veterans in civil
war, and they have commanders skilled in street-fighting. The English
workmen have been gradually attracted to London by a real and permanent
demand for their labour. They have wives and children. At least 100,000
men have been added to the working population of Paris since the _coup
d'etat._ They are young men in the vigour of their strength and passions,
unrestrained by wives or families. They have been drawn hither suddenly
and artificially by the demolition and reconstruction of half the town,
by the enormous local expenditure of the Government, and by the fifty
millions spent in keeping the price of bread in Paris unnaturally low.
The 40,000 men collected in Paris by the construction of the
fortifications are supposed to have mainly contributed to the revolution
of 1848. What is to be expected from this addition of 100,000? Then the
repressive force is differently constituted and differently animated. In
England you have an army which has chosen arms as a profession, which
never thinks of any other employment, and indeed is fit for no other, and
never expects any provision except its pay and its pension. The French
soldier, ever since 1789, is a citizen. He serves his six years because
the law and the colonel force him to do so, but he counts the days until
he can return to his province, his cottage, and his field. He sympathises
with the passions of the people. In the terrible days of June, the army
withstood the cries, the blessings, the imprecations and the seductions
of the mob, only because they had the National Guards by their side.
Their presence was a guarantee that the cause was just. The National
Guards never fought before as they did in those days. Yet at the Chateau
d'Eau, the miraculous heroism and the miraculous good luck of Lamoriciere
were necessary to keep them together. If he had not exposed himself as no
man ever did, and escaped as no man ever did, they would have been
broken.'

'I was there,' said Scheffer, 'when his fourth horse was killed under
him. As the horse was sinking he dre