These illustrations show the general trend of municipal Socialism in France. The results are not numerous. But the French Socialists justify their meager practical results by pointing to the centralized system of administration which enables the prefect and other administrative officers to veto many of the acts of the municipal councils. The first thing that the Socialists attempted to do in their towns was the readjustment of the finances for the benefit of the working classes. Their acts were vetoed on the ground that they were ultra vires. The attempt to fix a minimum wage for municipal employees met the same fate. Then the municipalities petitioned the central government for greater financial autonomy. This was denied. In Roubaix the opening of a municipal drug-store was disallowed by the prefect on the ground that the corporations act does not grant that power to municipalities. Municipal bakeries met the same fate. During the last few years, however, the rigor of the central administration has relaxed and the towns are allowed greater liberty in municipal affairs.

Under the circumstances it is perhaps little wonder that French municipal Socialism is a poor housekeeper. You look in vain for the high ideals of the Socialist evangelist. If you visit the towns where Socialism abounds you will be told that the Socialists have spent more money on the poor than their predecessors. You will find better nurseries for the babies of the working mothers, meals and stockings doled out to school children of the poor, here and there a physician or a lawyer retained by the town to render free service to the working people. On inquiry you will find that the soldiers are drawing increased pensions, the widows and orphans of the workingmen are especially provided for, and that bread is delivered to the needy at the door so they need not go ask for it, need not be beggars.

You are impressed that these proletarian town governments are trying to destroy poverty. Their ideal is noble, but some of their efforts are very crude.

The French Socialists are not by any means a unit on the municipal question. In 1911 it was the principal question discussed at their national convention at Saint-Quentin. Professor Millhaud of the University of Geneva, in a very clear and able speech, pointed out the merits of municipalization, citing the ownership of street railways, gas, waterworks, garbage plants, and other public utilities of European and American cities. He included municipal drug-stores, the feeding and clothing of school children, the establishing of playgrounds, and many other municipal activities familiar to American practice, in his local Socialistic program.

His exposition met with the approval of the Jaurès faction. But the Guesdists were not satisfied. "Who would benefit by cheap municipal gas?" cried a delegate from the rear of the hall. "The rich man, for he needs a great deal of gas to light up his big house. But what laboring man needs gas? When has he time to read? In the evening he is too tired, and he gives no receptions." Guesde maintained with great vehemence that municipal ownership and state ownership are not Socialism; they may be a step toward Socialism, but often result in substituting the tyranny of the state for the tyranny of the private employer.

The convention adopted a municipal program after a prolonged discussion that brought out clearly the fact that the Guesdists are not devoted to state or municipal ownership as a principle, but only as a means to a greater end.

During the last few years a very important movement has been taking place among the peasantry of southern France. Under the leadership of Compère-Morel, a gardener and member of the Chamber of Deputies, Socialism is spreading rapidly among these small and independent landowners. There are several million of these thrifty peasants in France, and their acquisition to Socialism will mean, not only a great increase in political power, but a modification of their theory of property. The Socialists are luring the small land-holder by telling him that they are with him in his fight against the large estates. They assure the peasant that they have no designs upon his small holdings. It is the great property, not merely property, that is the object of their hostility.[35]

There are other evidences that French Socialism is mellowing. Most of its leaders are bourgeois. Of the seventy-six united Socialists in the present Chamber, only thirty are workingmen, or trade-union officials; eight are professors in the University or secondary schools; seven are journalists; seven are barristers; seven are farmers; six are physicians; three are school teachers; and two are engineers. This does not suggest class war.

Socialism is a power in French politics. An observer who moves among the middle class wonders how much of a power it is in French life. The Radical Party would be considered Socialistic in England or the United States; half of it calls itself Socialist-Radical. It rules the Republic from the Chamber of Deputies. Everywhere you hear the people talking about collectivism, the nationalization of railways, of mines, of vineyards, of docks, and ultimately of wheat-fields and market-gardens.

But the French are a nation of small farmers and shopkeepers who cling to their property while they argue and vote for their radicalism and Socialism. This is the duality of their temperament; they love possessions and they love philosophical speculation. They keep their fields and their little shops, and speculate about the new to-morrow. They vote and debate with imaginative fervor; they pay taxes with stolid commonplace silence. In measuring the strength of French Socialism it is necessary to keep this in mind. Not that the Frenchman does not take Socialism seriously. He takes it as seriously as he takes monarchism or republicanism, and much more seriously than he takes religion. There is only one thing he takes more seriously—his property.