the gentleness, forbearance, and magnanimity of the Parisians.

What was the tendency and underlying principle of the new revolution? De Tocqueville, in his "Souvenirs," quotes from a memorandum which he prepared for his party friends in 1847:

The Revolution of 1789, which abolished all privileges and destroyed all exclusive rights, left one,- that of property. As long as this formed only the origin and basis of other rights it was defended without difficulty, or rather it was not attacked. But now that the right of property appears only as a last remnant of a destroyed world of aristocracy; when it stands alone, an isolated privilege in a levelled society; when it is no longer covered behind many other rights more disputed and more hated, it is not the same thing. It is compelled now to sustain every day the direct and incessant shock of democratic opinions.

Does any one believe that it is by chance, by the effect of a passing caprice of the human mind, that we see appearing on all sides those singular doctrines which bear various names, but which all have for their principal character the negation of the right of property, which all tend to limit, to diminish, to enervate its exercise? (pp. 13–15.)

This sets forth clearly the side of attack, but not that of defence. The whole character of subsequent events shows that this was not the view of the country; that the peasantry are distinctly on the side of property; that socialism and communism are the ideas of the poorer classes in the cities. The history of France since 1848, excepting a part of the Second Empire, is of a constant effort of the country to overcome the domination of Paris; while even in Paris itself there is a minority on the side of property quite powerful enough to protect itself if only it has adequate organization. If it is true that the right of private property is the very basis of civilization, it is also true that the possessors of property, who can live for a greater or less time without labor, have an enormous advantage over the multitude who cannot, and they need only to work together to assert their will within reasonable limits. The

history of Great Britain has taught the upper and middle classes, both as classes and among themselves, to work together. The history of France has taught them exactly the reverse.

Speaking later of the revolution itself, De Tocqueville

says:

Two things struck me above all. The first was the character, I will not say principally, but solely and exclusively popular, of the revolution which had just been accomplished; the omnipotence which it had given to the people, properly so called, that is, the classes which work with their hands, - -over all others. The second was the very small amount of the passion of hatred, and, to speak truly, of strong passions of any kind, which was shown in the first moments by the lower populace thus suddenly become the masters of Paris. Although the working classes had often played the principal part in the events of the First Republic, they had never been the guides and sole masters of the state, either in fact or in right. The Convention did not, perhaps, contain a single man of the people. It was filled with bourgeoisie and men of letters. The war between the Mountain and the Gironde was conducted on both sides by members of the bourgeoisie, and the triumph of the first never caused the power to fall into the hands of the people alone. The revolution of July was made by the people, but the middle class had excited, conducted, and gathered the principal fruits of it. The revolution of February, on the contrary, seemed to be made entirely outside of the bourgeoisie, and against it.1

This statement only emphasizes the enormous change which had come over the character of the people in little more than half a century. It shows how quickly the atmosphere of liberty, tempestuous as it was, had raised that character which the foulness of the old despotism had steadily dragged downward.

In this critical state of things, and while the provisional government was issuing one decree after another for providing food for the people and protecting Paris, the city remained tranquil. Patrols of volunteers circulated through the streets. Sentinels in rags guarded the rich, trembling for their lives and property. During the long space of time from the fall of the monarchy to the establishment of the republican

1 "Souvenirs," p. 102.

power not one act of violence against persons was committed; no private property was even threatened. The populace, excited as it was, seemed to be lifted out of itself by the idea of free government.1

Four months later, indeed, in the month of June, the people fought desperately, for reasons to be presently noticed, the most remarkable thing about it being the heroism and bravery with which they gave their lives for ideas, which, though wholly mistaken and incompatible with the existence of society, were neither mean nor unnatural. It is to be observed that the conflict of June completely suppressed this rule of the people of Paris, and gave full power to a national assembly elected for the first time in France by organized universal suffrage.

The National Assembly came together on the 4th of May. At that moment there were in Paris one hundred thousand workmen armed, organized in regiments, without work, dying of hunger, but with their minds stuffed with vain theories and chimerical hopes. Society was cut into two parts, those who possessed nothing united in a common covetousness, those who possessed anything in a common anxiety. The strongest characteristic of the Assembly was the want of mutual confidence. They did not know what they wanted. There were more great proprietors and more nobles than in the chambers elected under a high pecuniary qualification.2

De Tocqueville says that, taken as a whole, the Assembly ranked higher and contained more men sincere, disinterested, honest, and, above all, courageous, than any of the chambers of deputies which he had seen.3 By investing General Cavaignac with military power during the days of June, the Assembly triumphed in the fullest measure, and by the surrender of power by that general it obtained full control of the government. It failed, just as all legislatures, of whatever nationality, always fail when they attempt to govern without the guidance

of strong executive power, though the resulting disaster may be more or less under differing circumstances.

In like manner the Legislative Assembly came together on the 29th of May, 1819. The new elections gave a majority of more than two-thirds to those who, however much they might disagree in other things, wished to arrest or throw back the revolution. Yet they were in a state of panic almost equal to that which followed the February revolution. The conservatives were frightened because their triumph was less complete than they expected, while the men of the Mountain-100 in number

were elated for exactly the opposite reason. That the latter achieved so much De Tocqueville thinks was largely owing to the intolerance of the conservatives towards those who, though they did not agree with them, had helped them to oppose the Mountain. It appears, then, that universal suffrage freely gave power to the conservative and upper classes; and that these failed almost as badly as the people, from the want of all habits or traditions of self-control, of mutual concession, or of moral submission to leaders.

Let us hear next the conclusion of one of the modern generation of Englishmen who are honestly trying to understand the meaning of recent French history.

But if the country was not Republican neither was it devoted to the fallen king. There were many adherents of a Constitutional Monarchy, but none of the system of Louis Philippe; the provinces had been surprised by the Revolution, but it cannot be said that they were disgusted; they were simply unprepared; and in this unpreparedness they would probably accept the Republic, not with conviction or with loyalty, but merely as a temporary expedient till some more desirable establishment could be attained. But it was not so the Republicans conceived the Republic; to them it meant not merely a form but a spirit; it was to issue like a new Athene from the head of the god. Humanity, armed for the succor of the oppressed, inspired for the guidance of the free; it was to be the symbol of fraternity, the pledge of equality, the guarantee of liberty; it was to purify every

passion, to solve every problem, and to realize in a moment of time the ultimate human ideal. A Republic, so conceived, was not merely a change of government, it was a reconstruction of society; and any attempt to achieve it must involve the active, intelligent, and enthusiastic coöperation of every talent and every class in every district in France. Such was the ideal; what now were the facts? A complex and defective social organization, imperfectly understood and unreservedly condemned; in Paris a Provisional Government appointed at the dictation of a mob in order to create the Republic; in the provinces uncertainty and confusion, contempt for the fallen authorities, mistrust of the new ones, ignorance of economic conditions, and a blind fear of schemes of reform; on the one hand a minority of idealists, insatiable in their demands, unlimited in their faith, unpractical in their proposals; on the other a complex mass of conflicting interests and ideas, unprepared for decisive action, unintelligent of the new issues, unaware of a common aim, but ready to unite in defiance of principle under the stress of a single negative passion-the terror of anarchy.1

In other words, to prevent a violent and fanatical minority from leading away the multitude, it was necessary that the other minority, much larger and more powerful, who favored order, conservatism, and moderation, should have possessed definiteness of purpose, mutual confidence, and concert of action, things which the history of France, up to that time at least, had rendered wholly impossible.

On the 24th of February, 1848, all government had ceased in France. The royal family had fled. The Chamber of Deputies, overpowered by the mob and upon the proposition of Lamartine, had rejected the regency of the Duchess of Orleans. The crowd had expelled the president, M. Sauzet, from his seat, and the deputies had left the hall. The reins of power were ready for the first hand that could lay hold of them. In 1830, with almost precisely the same circumstances, a candidate stood ready in Louis Philippe. By the prompt ac

1 "Revolution and Reaction in Modern France," G. L. Dickinson, 1892, p. 172.