Afterward, when he made his speech in answer to the toast, he recalled happy souvenirs of his youth in the Lycée de Versailles. When they subsequently made the tour of the _salon_, Madame Lefaivre, in passing me, whispered that she was _toute confuse_ at feeling herself so big on the arm of the little President. He saluted right and left with a smile which, without being fixed, was always there. I think he was very pleased with the occasion and its international setting. It is always interesting to see any colony turn out in distant posts, and here the French colony, representing very large interests--banking, industrial, mercantile--is numerous and important, comparable only to that in Moscow. The large department shops, _à la Bon Marché_, like the "Palacio de Hierro" and the "Puerto de Vera Cruz," are in French hands. From the days of their intervention, the French have invested largely in Mexico, and now I hear there is much uneasiness in Gallic quarters, so many interests are to be protected, and the protection is an unknown quantity. Mr. Lefaivre is untiring in his efforts--but order can only come through the government itself. Previous to the famous elections, or rather "selections," as I prefer to call them (the word elections could be dropped from use and not missed in Mexico), the Partido Católico, among other parties of conservative tendencies, was not efficiently formed. Iglesias Calderon represented the old anti-clerical party, and De la Barra, in spite of his determination to retire from public life, was made the candidate of the National Catholic party, and of the Liberal party as well, for the Vice-Presidency. It was "generally understood" that he would be defeated. N. said last night, informally, to Madero: "It is a pity; Mr. de la Barra has such a good standing abroad." Madero replied: "I will see that he is _elected_ from somewhere else." And he was, later, from Querétaro, his native town, as senator, I think. They haven't got the "hang" of democracy here, nor any suspicion of political parties having rights and dignities, and it is discouraging to see them trying to work out their questions without any such suspicions. It is war to the knife or the _adjective_ when one man differs from another. Bulnes had one of his flashing, witty articles in _El Imparcial_ not long ago, _à propos_ of the candidature of Pino Suarez, in which he says that as in classic days the language of intellectuals was Latin, now in Latin-America that of the politicians is any kind of vile language, and to be in conformity with electoral urbanity, when meeting an acquaintance, one should salute him by saying, "I forestall any remark you may make, by telling you that if you hold opinions differing from mine you are a scoundrel!" _December 18th._