Against such conclusions as these I protest with all my strength.  Far from entertaining the absurd idea of doing away with religion, education, property, labour, and the arts, when we say that the State ought to protect the free development of all these kinds of human activity, without helping some of them at the expense of others—­we think, on the contrary, that all these living powers of society would develop themselves more harmoniously under the influence of liberty; and that, under such an influence no one of them would, as is now the case, be a source of trouble, of abuses, of tyranny, and disorder.

Our adversaries consider that an activity which is neither aided by supplies, nor regulated by government, is an activity destroyed.  We think just the contrary.  Their faith is in the legislator, not in mankind; ours is in mankind, not in the legislator.

Thus M. Lamartine said, “Upon this principle we must abolish the public exhibitions, which are the honour and the wealth of this country.”  But I would say to M. Lamartine,—­According to your way of thinking, not to support is to abolish; because, setting out upon the maxim that nothing exists independently of the will of the State, you conclude that nothing lives but what the State causes to live.  But I oppose to this assertion the very example which you have chosen, and beg you to remark, that the grandest and noblest of exhibitions, one which has been conceived in the most liberal and universal spirit—­and I might even make use of the term humanitary, for it is no exaggeration—­is the exhibition now preparing in London; the only one in which no government is taking any part, and which is being paid for by no tax.

To return to the fine arts.  There are, I repeat, many strong reasons to be brought, both for and against the system of government assistance.  The reader must see that the especial, object of this work leads me neither to explain these reasons, nor to decide in their favour, nor against them.

But M. Lamartine has advanced one argument which I cannot pass by in silence, for it is closely connected with this economic study.  “The economical question, as regards theatres, is comprised in one word—­labour.  It matters little what is the nature of this labour; it is as fertile, as productive a labour as any other kind of labour in the nation.  The theatres in France, you know, feed and salary no less than 80,000 workmen of different kinds; painters, masons, decorators, costumers, architects, &c., which constitute the very life and movement of several parts of this capital, and on this account they ought to have your sympathies.”  Your sympathies! say rather your money.

And further on he says:  “The pleasures of Paris are the labour and the consumption of the provinces, and the luxuries of the rich are the wages and bread of 200,000 workmen of every description, who live by the manifold industry of the theatres on the surface of the republic, and who receive from these noble pleasures, which render France illustrious, the sustenance of their lives and the necessaries of their families and children.  It is to them that you will give 60,000 francs.” (Very well; very well.  Great applause.) For my part I am constrained to say, “Very bad! very bad!” confining this opinion, of course, within the bounds of the economical question which we are discussing.