Revolution. Now, in 1870, but under different circumstances, all
France was once more disintegrating socially. Opposition to the
Empire, to the dynasty, to the government, had been seething for
years; now the separate crystals which formed on the edges of the
boiling under-currents began to grow into masses which, adhering to
other masses, interfered with the healthy functions of national life.

Until recently, however, while among the dissatisfied there existed a
certain tendency towards cohesion, and while, moreover, adhesive
forces mutually impelled separate groups of malcontents to closer
union, the government found nothing alarming in the menaces of
individuals or of isolated groups. The Emperor always counted on such
opposition in Paris; the palace of the Tuileries was practically a
besieged place, menaced always by the faubourgs--a castle before which
lay eternally the sullen, unorganized multitude over which the
municipal police kept watch.

That opposition, hatred, and treason existed never worried the
government, but that this opposition should remain unorganized
occupied the authorities constantly.

Groups of individuals who proclaimed themselves devotees of social
theories interested us only when the groups grew large or exhibited
tendencies to unite with similar groups.

Clubs formed to discuss social questions were usually watched by the
police; violent organizations were not observed very closely, but
clubs founded upon moderate principles were always closely surveyed.

In the faubourgs, where every street had its bawling orator, and where
the red flag was waved when the community had become sufficiently
drunk, the government was quietly content to ignore proceedings,
wisely understanding that the mouths of street orators were the
safety-valves of the faubourgs, and that through them the ebullitions
of the under-world escaped with nothing more serious than a few vinous
shrieks. There were, however, certain secret and semi-secret
organizations which caused the government concern. First among these
came the International Society of Workingmen, with all its
affiliations--the "Internationale," as it was called. In its wake
trailed minor societies, some mild and harmless, some dangerous and
secret, some violent, advocating openly the destruction of all
existing conditions. Small groups of anarchists had already attracted
groups of moderate socialistic tendencies to them, and had absorbed
them or tainted