M. Clemenceau would not have been sorry to see war. He was far too shrewd not to notice that in spite of the violent attacks of a certain portion of the press against Germany, the majority of the nation did not any longer harbour such feelings of hatred against their eastern neighbour as formerly existed. More than that, a good many people thought that it would be better to reconcile oneself to facts, and, by an understanding with the German Government, to avoid the heavy taxes which the increased armaments imposed on the country. These armaments were not popular among the greater number of Frenchmen. Forty years had gone by since the war of 1870, and a new generation had succeeded to the one that had witnessed the unexampled disasters which had brought about the fall of the Second Empire. That younger generation could not feel in the same way as its fathers had done; it only saw that France was prosperous, and that a war, even if it turned out to be successful, could but increase the military burdens of the country. This appealed to no one, and consequently a renewal of hostilities with Germany was not desired. M. Clemenceau, on the contrary, had rabid anti-German feelings, and he encouraged what chauvinist tendencies still existed in France, and tried to persuade the leading men in England that the conclusion of an understanding with France would prove of infinite advantage to both countries.

Unfortunately Russia could not be left out of this understanding, and M. Clemenceau had perforce to submit to the fact, but he did his best, nevertheless, to destroy the Russian sympathies which existed in his fatherland by urging the newspapers which were at his disposal to say that in signing the famous Franco-Russian alliance, which had been the cause of so much joy, France had been the dupe—France who had given her money, and France who had thrown herself into the arms of Russia, whilst the latter had taken all that she had been offered, without giving anything in return for the gifts freely showered on her with a more than generous hand.

Nevertheless, M. Fallières started for St. Petersburg, as in duty bound, almost immediately after his election, conforming himself thus to the tradition which had been handed over by M. Félix Faure to his successors. He was warmly welcomed on the banks of the Neva, but welcomed only by the government and officials who followed the lead given to them by the Sovereign. The country itself remained very indifferent during his visit, and the attitude of the public was not at all what it had been when Félix Faure had arrived at Peterhof to return the memorable visit of Nicholas II. in Paris. Somehow the alliance was more accepted as an accomplished fact than as an advantage. In Russia, too, the hour of disillusion had struck.

M. Fallières, in spite of what had been said of him, was very far from being the nonentity he was reported to be. On the contrary, he had an unusual amount of common sense, and was not slow to notice the change in the political atmosphere of the day. Nevertheless, he did his best to disguise from the public the fact of the coolness which had begun to replace the mutual enthusiasm of France and Russia for each other, but when he returned home he began to listen more than he had done formerly to the advice of M. Clemenceau, and to look towards England as a possible ally, having learnt much by his visit to Peterhof.

Although it has been reported otherwise, M. Fallières was fond of M. Clemenceau, and they got on very well together the whole time the latter remained Prime Minister. Together they worked for the benefit of M. Briand, the new star that suddenly arose in the heaven of the Third Republic, and which began to shine in great part through their efforts to assure themselves of its help and co-operation towards the final triumph of the Radical party.

I shall talk of M. Briand in the next chapter. Some people saw in him a successor of M. Fallières as President of the Republic, a conviction which personally I did not share at all, and events proved the truth of my conviction. M. Briand was far too clever to retire at that moment from political life, which still has many triumphs in store for him, and a man who has once occupied the position of Head of the State has no future after his term of office is over; he can only end his days in peace, with the broad red ribbon of the Legion of Honour across his breast as a remembrance of happy days never to return.

The reign of M. Fallières had its share of scandals. I have already spoken of M. Rochette. There were others besides, among them that provoked by the tragic adventures of Madame Steinheil, whose trial and subsequent acquittal occupied Parisian society for long months.

Several episodes of the same kind have lately occupied public attention. They have all left M. Fallières more or less indifferent, and have not ruffled his equanimity. He fulfilled his duties in an unostentatious fashion, and tried to impart as much simplicity as possible to the Presidential household. He travelled about, distributed all the handshakes required of him and all the medals and decorations that his ministers had awarded to their adherents. He partook of the regular number of official dinners, opened exhibitions and charitable institutions, in a word he was a model President, and it is quite possible that M. Clemenceau viewed the end of his Presidency with regret.

Madame Fallières has been the subject of all kinds of absurd stories. Notwithstanding these, she did not show herself as unfit for the part she had been called upon to play as her enemies would have us believe. She was polite with everybody, reserved in her manners, and avoided mistakes. She has done much good, and if she was not so generous as some of her predecessors had shown themselves, she never refused to give money for the cause of charity, when it was necessary, but on the contrary tried to alleviate the distresses which were brought to her notice. She did not pose for what she was not, and she always declared that when she would have to leave the Elysée, she would do so with regret at having to give up such a sumptuous home, but that at the same time she would not be sorry to return to private life and its simplicity.

M. and Mme. Fallières had several children born to them. Their only daughter was married a few years ago to M. Jean Lannes, who had been, until the day when he accompanied to the altar the daughter of his chief, the private secretary of the President of the Republic. His marriage caused a certain sensation in Republican circles, because it was celebrated in the Church of the Madeleine, in spite of the fact that M. Fallières was supposed to be a freethinker, which in reality he was not by any means. But Madame Fallières was a fervent Catholic, and she never would have allowed her child to be married simply at the mairie, as it was suggested to her by some zealous friends. Madame Fallières had always the courage of her opinions, and she has showed it during her reign as the first lady of the French Republic.