francs for each hogshead. In my own country, I am a labourer, and do
everything relating to the cultivation of the ground. I root up the
trees; I saw them into several lengths; I split the wood; pile it up
to dry; then load it on mules, and carry it to the house to be burned;
afterwards I mow the hay and corn; carry the corn into the barn
(shrug), and the hay also; thrash the corn, and put it away into the
granary; from whence they take it out by little and little to have it
ground and to make bread. I prune the vines.' Here the commissionaire
gives an account of the whole process of wine-making, in which he is
an adept; and then goes on to explain how he is employed as a spy on
families and others, all in the way of business. He ends with saying
that trade is dull, and blames the revolution of 1848 for ruining his
employment--for why? 'Everybody is afraid of the future. Everybody is
economical; everybody is hiding, hoarding, or saving his money,
because he knows that affairs cannot continue as they are, that sooner
or later there will be another revolution.' Such a country! The
revolution thus anticipated has taken place. By relieving the
Parisians from the fears of a social upbreak--a universal sack of
property--for that was preying on their minds--the grand _coup_ of
Louis Napoleon will doubtless set money afloat, and restore occupation
to the humbler classes--the real sufferers by revolutions.

The curious thing about all the revolutions and coups that have ever
taken place in France is, that they never give the slightest particle
of real liberty to the people; and, what is equally surprising, the
people do not know what liberty is. It is a thing they talk about, and
paint over doorways, but further they go not. When, in 1848, a mob was
suffered to assume supreme authority, it might have been anticipated
that the very first thing they would do would be to turn the whole
police system about its business and destroy its records. No such