“You mean that I should draw up some sort of memorial on various ways of civilizing France?  You are not the first to suggest it, sir; M. Gravier has forestalled you.  Unluckily, Governments cannot be enlightened, and a Government which regards itself as a diffuser of light is the least open to enlightenment.  What we have done for our canton, every mayor ought, of course, to do for his; the magistrate should work for his town, the sub-prefect for his district, the prefect for the department, and the minister for France, each acting in his own sphere of interest.  For the few miles of country road that I persuaded our people to make, another would succeed in constructing a canal or a highway; and for my encouragement of the peasants’ trade in hats, a minister would emancipate France from the industrial yoke of the foreigner by encouraging the manufacture of clocks in different places, by helping to bring to perfection our iron and steel, our tools and appliances, or by bringing silk or dyer’s woad into cultivation.

“In commerce, ‘encouragement,’ does not mean protection.  A really wise policy should aim at making a country independent of foreign supply, but this should be effected without resorting to the pitiful shifts of customs duties and prohibitions.  Industries must work out their own salvation, competition is the life of trade.  A protected industry goes to sleep, and monopoly, like the protective tariff, kills it outright.  The country upon which all others depend for their supplies will be the land which will promulgate free trade, for it will be conscious of its power to produce its manufactures at prices lower than those of any of its competitors.  France is in a better position to attain this end than England, for France alone possesses an amount of territory sufficiently extensive to maintain a supply of agricultural produce at prices that will enable the worker to live on low wages; the Administration should keep this end in view, for therein lies the whole modern question.  I have not devoted my life to this study, dear sir; I found my work by accident, and late in the day.  Such simple things as these are too slight, moreover, to build into a system; there is nothing wonderful about them, they do not lend themselves to theories; it is their misfortune to be merely practically useful.  And then work cannot be done quickly.  The man who means to succeed in these ways must daily look to find within himself the stock of courage needed for the day, a courage in reality of the rarest kind, though it does not seem hard to practise, and meets with little recognition—­the courage of the schoolmaster, who must say the same things over and over again.  We all honor the man who has shed his blood on the battlefield, as you have done; but we ridicule this other whose life-fire is slowly consumed in repeating the same words to children of the same age.  There is no attraction for any of us in obscure well-doing.  We know nothing of the civic virtue that led the great men of ancient times to serve their country in the lowest rank whenever they did not command.  Our age is afflicted with a disease that makes each of us seek to rise above his fellows, and there are more saints than shrines among us.