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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. 
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La Prance subit aujourd'hui, comme une epreuve inattendue, 
 et avec une Constitution qui porterait le trouble dans la societe 
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troublait ses plus intimes affid^s. Le parti monarchique 6tait, ci 
 son sujet, plein de doute et d'inquietude, passant tour h tour de 
 I'espoir a la crainte, de la lumiere entrevue h d'epaisses tenebres. 
 Ni leurs doutes, ni leurs craintes, ni leurs desirs, ni les obscurites 
 de Monk n'egarepent la conduite des royalistes. Monk etait 
 I'homme que leur donnait ct leur imposait en meme temps la si- 
 tuation. II y avait, h tout prendre, plus de raisons d'esperer en 
 lui que de s'en raefier. C'etait encore une necessity h accepter. 
 Les royalistes comprirent et accepterent aussi celle-la. lis ne se 
 livrerent point aveuglement h Monk ; mais ils le seconderent dis- 
 cretement, I'attirant sans le compromettre, dociles h ses conseils, 
 vigilans. mais tranquilles derriere lui, comrae derriere un chef de 
 leur choix. Car il faut un chef h de tels desseins, et il n'y a de 
 chef que celui qu'on laisse faire en le soutenant. 
 
 Le succes repondit a la bonne conduite du parti monarchique 
 et de son chef. 
 
 Peuples, partis on individus, les horames, dans les grandes cir- 
 constances de leur destinee, se trompent de deux fa^ons diverses 
 et egalement fatales. Tantot, indecis et decourages, ils s'aban- 
 donnent a eux-memes, restent inactifs comrae des spectateurs im- 
 puissans, et s'en reraettent de tout leur sort h cette force inconnue 
 que, selon leur foi ou leur impi6te, ils appellent la Prqvidence. la 
 fatalite ou le hasard. Tantot, aveuglement confians et etourdis, 
 ils s'agitent selon les caprices de leur imagination ou de leur de- 
 sir, croyant que tout leur est possible, et que rien ne les emp^- 
 chera de reussir comme ils veulent et esperent. Dieu ne tolere et 
 ne laisse impunies ni I'une ni I'autre erreur. II veut que les 
 hommes prennent leur part dans la conduite de leurs propres af- 
 faires, et en acceptent le travail comme les chances. Et, en meme 
 temps, il ne souttre pas que les hommes se figurent qu'ils dispo- 
 seront a leur gre des evenemens, et que toutes choses se plieront 
 
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DEMOCRACY IN FRMCE. 
 
 BY 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 MONSIEUE GUIZOT, 
 
 LATE PRIME MINISTER; AUTHOR OF THE "HISTORY OF CIVILIZA- 
 TION," ETC., ETC. 
 
 University of California. 
 
 FROM THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 DR. FRANCIS LIEBKR, 
 Professor of History and Law in Columbia College, New York, 
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 
 MICHAEL REESE 
 
 Of San Frajicisco. 
 1873. 
 
 /%f, 
 
 Si 9 1^1 
 
<t 
 
 Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive 
 
 in 2007 witii funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 littp://www.arcliive.org/details/defnocracyinfrancOOguizricli 
 
PREFACE 
 
 I VENTURE to believe that nothing will be foimd in 
 the following pages which bears the impress of my 
 personal situation. While events of such magnitude 
 are passing before his eyes, a man who did not forget 
 himself would deserve to be for ever forgotten. I 
 have thought of nothing but the situation of my 
 country. The more I reflect upon that, the more I 
 am convinced that the evil which lies at the root of 
 all her evils, which undermines and destroys her 
 governments and her liberties, her dignity and her 
 happiness, is the evil which I attack ; — the idolatry 
 of Democracy. 
 
 Whether the accession of M. Louis Napoleon 
 Bonaparte to the Presidency of the Republic will be 
 found an efficacious remedy for this disease, the 
 
 m 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 future will show. What I have said here after the 
 election of M. Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, I should 
 have equally said, without the slightest alteration, if 
 General Cavaignac had been elected. It is not to 
 individuals, but to society itself, that great social 
 truths are addressed. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 • PAGE 
 
 WHAT IS THE SOURCE OF THE PREVALENT EVIL ? . . .9 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 WHAT IS THE DUTY OF GOVERNMENT WITH RESPECT TO 
 
 DEMOCRACY? 14 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OF THE DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC 21 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OF- THE SOCIAL REPUBLIC . . . . . . .29 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WHAT ARE THE REAL AND ESSENTIAL ELEMENTS OF SOCIETY 
 
 IN FRANCE ? 39 
 
 %. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FA&E 
 POUTIOAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE IN FRANCE . 56 
 
 CHAPTER VH. 
 
 MORAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE IK FRANCE 
 
 CHAPTER Vm. 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 f. 
 
 # 
 
 % 
 
 80 
 
DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 WHAT IS THE SOURCE OF THE PREVALENT EVIL? 
 
 MiRABEAx:, Barnave, Napoleon, and Lafayette, who died at 
 distant and very dissimilar periods, in bed or on the scaffold, 
 in their own country or in exile, all died under the influence 
 of one sentiment — a sentiment of profound melancholy. 
 They thought their hopes deceived, their labors abortive. 
 They were assailed by doubts of the success of their cause, 
 and by misgivings as to the future. 
 
 King Louis Philippe reigned above seventeen years, for 
 more than eleven of which I had the honor to be his minister. 
 If to-morrow it pleased God to summon us into his presence, 
 should we quit this earth very confident in the future des- 
 tiny and the constitutional order of our country ? 
 
 Is then the French Revolution destined to give birth only 
 to doubt and deception ? — to bury all its triumphs under 
 ruins ? 
 
 Yes: so long as France shall suffer the true and the 
 3 
 
W DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 false, the upright and the perverse, the practicable and the 
 chimerical, the salutary and the pestilent to be constantly- 
 mingled and confounded in her opinions, her institutions, and 
 the government of her affairs, such will be the unfailing and 
 inevitable result. 
 
 Until a people which has gone through a great revolution 
 has passed on the principles, the passions, and the doctrines 
 which have led to this revolution, a sentence like that which 
 shall be passed on all human things at the Last Day, " sever- 
 ing the wheat from the tares, and the com from the straw 
 that shall be cast into the fire," it can never surmount the 
 « perils, nor reap the advantages, of the struggle in which it 
 h£is been engaged. 
 
 So long as this judgment is deferred, chaos reigns; and 
 chaos, if prolonged in the midst of a people, would be death. 
 
 Chaos is now concealed under one word — Democracy. 
 
 This is now the sovereign and universal word which all 
 parties invoke, all seek to appropriate as a talisman. 
 
 The Monarchists say, *' Our Monarchy is a Democratic 
 Monarchy : therefore it differs essentially from the ancient 
 Monarchy, and is adapted to the modern condition of so- 
 ciety." 
 
 The Republicans say, " The Republic is Democracy 
 governing itself. This is the only form of government in 
 harmony with a democratic society, its principles, its senti- 
 ments, and its interests." 
 
 Socialists, Communists, and Montagnards require that the 
 republic should be a pure and absolute democracy. This, 
 in their estimation, is the condition of its legitimacy. 
 
SOURCE OF THE PREVALENT EVIL. 11 
 
 Such is the power of the word Democracy, that no 
 government or party dares to raise its head, or believes its 
 own existence possible, if it does not bear that word inscribed 
 on its banner ; and those who carry that banner aloft with 
 the greatest ostentation and to the extremest limits, believe 
 themselves to be stronger than all the rest of the world. 
 
 Fatal idea, which incessantly excites and foments social 
 war amongst us ! This idea must be extirpated ; for on its 
 extirpation depends social peace, and, in her train, liberty, 
 security, prosperity, dignity, all the benefits, material or 
 moral, which social peace alone can insure. 
 
 The following are the causes to which the word Democracy 
 owes its power. 
 
 It is the banner of all the social hopes and ambitions of 
 man, — pure or impure, noble or base, rational or irrational, 
 possible or chimerical. 
 
 Now it is the glory of man to be ambitious. He alone, 
 of all created beings, does not passively resign himself to 
 evil ; he alone incessantly aspires after good ; not only for 
 himself, but for his fellow-creatures. He respects and loves 
 the race to which he belongs ; he wishes to find a remedy 
 for their miseries, and redress for their wrongs. 
 
 But man is no less imperfect than he is ambitious. 
 Amidst his ardent and unceasing struggles to eradicate evil 
 and to achieve good, every one of his virtuous inclinations is 
 accompanied by an evil inclination which treads closely on 
 its heels, or strives with it for precedence. The desire for 
 justice and the desire for vengeance — the spirit of liberty and 
 the spirit of tyranny — the wish to rise and the wish to abase 
 
 J 
 
12 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 what has risen — the ardent love of truth and the presump- 
 tuous temerity of fancied knowledge ; — we may fathom all 
 the depths of human nature ; we shall find throughout, the 
 same mingled yet conflicting qualities, the same danger from 
 their close and easy approximation. 
 
 To all these instincts, at once contrary and parallel, — to 
 all indiscriminately, the bad as well as the good, — the word 
 Democracy holds out an interminable vista and infinite pro- 
 mises. It fosters every propensity, it speaks to every passion, 
 of the heart of man ; to the most generous and the most 
 shameful, the most moral and the most immoral, the gentlest 
 and the harshest, the most beneficent and the most destruc- 
 tive ; to the former it loudly offers, to the latter it secretly 
 and dimly promises, satisfaction. 
 
 Such is the secret of its power. ^ . 
 
 I am wrong in saying, the secret. The word Democracy 
 is not new, and in all ages it has signified what it signifies 
 now. But what is new and proper to our times is this : the 
 word Democracy is now pronounced every day, every hour, 
 and in every place ; and at every time and place it is heard 
 by all men. This formidable appeal to all that is most po- 
 tent, for good and for evil, in man and in society, was for- 
 merly heard only transiently, locally, and among certain 
 classes, which, though bound to other classes by the ties of a 
 common country, were distinct and profoundly different 
 from them. They lived at a distance from each other ; 
 each obscurely known to the other. Now there is but one 
 society ; and in this society there are no more lofty barriers, 
 no more great distances, no more mutual obscurities. Whe- 
 
SOURCE OF THE PREVALENT EVIL. 13 
 
 ther it be false or true, noxious or salutary, when once a so- 
 cial idea arises, it penetrates every where, and its action is 
 universal and constant. It is a torch that is never extin- 
 guished ; a voice that is never wearied or hushed. Univer- 
 sality and publicity are from henceforth the conditions of 
 all the great provocations addressed to men, — of all the 
 great impulses given to society. 
 
 This is doubtless one of those absolute and sovereign 
 facts which enter into the designs of God with regard to 
 mankind. 
 
 Such being the fact, the empire of the word Democracy 
 is not to be regarded as a transitory or local accident. It is 
 the development— others would say the explosion — of all the 
 elements of human nature throughout all the ranks and all 
 the depths of society ; and consequently the open, general, 
 continuous, inevitable struggle of its good and evil instincts; 
 of its virtues and its vices ; of all its powers and faculties, 
 whether to improve or to corrupt, to raise or to abase, to cre- 
 ate or to destroy. Such is, from henceforth, the social state, 
 the permanent condition of our nation, 
 
 ■ "it^ • 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 WHAT IS THE DUTY OF GOVERNMENT WITH RESPECT TO DE- 
 MOCRACY ? 
 
 There are men whom this fearful struggle does not alarm : 
 they have full confidence in human nature. According to 
 them, if left to itself, its progress is towards good : all the 
 evils of society arise from governments which debase men 
 by violence or corrupt them by fraud : liberty — liberty for 
 every body and every thing — liberty will almost always suf- 
 fice to enlighten or to control the wills of men, to prevent 
 evil or to cure it : a little government — the least possible — 
 may be allowed for the repression of extreme disorder and 
 the control of brute force. 
 
 Others have a more summary way of disposing of all 
 dread of the triumph of evil in man or in society. There 
 is, they say, no such thing as natural and necessary evil, 
 since no human inclination is bad in itself; it becomes so, 
 only when it does not attain the end after which it aspires — 
 it is a torrent which overflows its banks when obstructed. If 
 society were organized in such a manner that each of the 
 instincts of man found its proper place and received its due 
 
DUTY OF GOVERNMENT. 15 
 
 satisfaction, evil would disappear, strife would cease, and all 
 the various forces of humanity, harmoniously combine to 
 produce social order. 
 
 The former of these speculators misunderstand man ; the 
 latter misunderstand man, and deny God. 
 
 Let any man dive into his own heart and observe himself 
 with attention. If he have the power to look, and the will 
 to see, he will behold, with a sort of terror, the incessant 
 war waged by the good and evil dispositions within him — 
 reason and caprice, duty and passion ; in short, to call them 
 all by their comprehensive names, good and evil. We con- 
 template with anxiety the outward troubles and vicissitudes 
 of human life ; but what should we feel if we could behold 
 the inward vicissitudes, the troubles of the human soul ? — if 
 we could see how many dangers, snares, enemies, combats, 
 victories, and defeats can be crowded into a day — an hour ? 
 I do not say this to discourage man, nor to humble or under- 
 value his free will. He is called upon to conquer in the 
 battle of life, and the honor of the conquest belongs to his 
 free will. But victory is impossible, and defeat certain, if 
 he has not a just conception and a profound feeling of his 
 dangers, his weaknesses, and his need of assistance. To 
 believe that the free will of man tends to good, and is of it- 
 self sufficient to accomplish good, betrays an immeasurable 
 ignorance of his nature. It is the error of pride ; an error 
 which tends to destroy both moral and political order ; which 
 enfeebles the government of communities no less than the 
 government of the inward man. 
 
 For the struggle is the same, the peril as imminent, the 
 
16 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 P^ aid as necessary, in society as in the individual man. Many 
 of those now living have been doomed to see, several times 
 in the course of their lives, the social edifice tottering to its 
 fall, and all the props that should uphold, all the bonds that 
 should unite it, failing. Over what an immense extent, and 
 with what fearful rapidity, have all the causes of social war 
 and social destruction, which are always fermenting in the 
 midst of us, each time burst forth ! Which of us has not 
 shuddered at the sudden discovery of the abyss over which 
 we live — the frail barriers which separate us from it, and 
 the destructive legions ready to rush forth upon society as 
 its jaws are unclosed ? For my own part, I was a spectator, 
 day by day, hour by hour, of the purest, the wisest, the 
 gentlest, and the shortest of these formidable convulsions ; in 
 July, 1830, I saw, in the streets and the palaces, at the gate 
 of the national councils and in the midst of popular assem- 
 blies, society abandoned to itself, an actor or spectator of the 
 revolution. And at the same time that I admired the gene- 
 rous sentiments, the proofs of strong intelligence and disin- 
 terested virtue and heroic moderation which I witnessed, I 
 shuddered as I saw a mighty torrent of insensate ideas, bru- 
 tal passions, perverse inclinations, and terrible chimeras, rise 
 and swell, minute by minute, ready to overflow, and sub- 
 merge a land where all the dikes that had contained it were 
 broken down. Society had gloriously repulsed the violation 
 of its laws and its honor, and now it was on the point of fall- 
 ing into ruins in the midst of its glory. Here it was that I 
 learned the vital conditions of social order, and the necessity 
 of resistance to insure the safety of the social fabric. 
 
DUTY OF GOVERNMENT. 17 
 
 Resistance not only to evil, but to the principle of evil ; 
 not only to disorder, but to the passions and the ideas which 
 engender disorder — this is the paramount and peremptory 
 duty of every government. And the greater the empire of 
 Democracy, the more important is it that government should 
 hold fast to its true character, and act its true part in the strug- 
 gle which agitates society. Why is it that so many demo- 
 cracies — some of them very brilliant — have so rapidly per- 
 ished ? Because they would not suffer their governments to 
 do their duty, and fulfil the objects for which governments 
 are instituted. They did more than reduce them to weak- -*>«»«• 
 t ness; they condemned them to falsehood. It is the melan- 
 choly condition of democratic governments, that while v^ 
 charged — as they must be — with the repression of disorder, " 
 they are required to be complaisant and indulgent to the 
 causes of disorder ; they are expected to arrest the evil when 
 it breaks out, and yet they are asked to foster it whilst it is 
 hatching. I know no more deplorable spectacle than a power 
 which, in the struggle between the good and the evil princi- 
 ple, continually bends the knee before the bad, and then 
 attempts to resume an attitude of vigor and independence 
 when it becomes necessary to resist its excesses. If you will 
 not have excesses, you must repress them in their origin. 
 If you wish for liberty — for the full and glorious develop- 
 ment of human nature — learn first on what conditions this 
 is attainable ; look forward to its consequences. Do not 
 blind yourselves to the perils and the combats it will occa- 
 sion. And when these combats and these perils arise, do 
 
18 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 not require your leaders to be hypocritical or weak in their 
 dealings with the enemy. Do not force upon them the wor- 
 ship of idols, even were you yourselves those idols. Per- 
 mit them, nay command them, to worship and to serve the 
 true God alone. 
 
 I might here allow myself the satisfaction of recalling 
 the names of all the rulers who have fallen shamefully, be- 
 cause they submitted basely to be the slaves or the tools of 
 the errors and passions of the democracies it was their duty 
 and their vocation to govern ; but I had rather dwell on the 
 memory of those who lived gloriously by resisting them. It 
 is more to my taste to prove the truth by examples of the 
 success which crowns wisdom, than by those of the disasters 
 which attend on folly. 
 
 Democratic France owes much to the Emperor Napoleon. 
 He gave her two things of immense value : within, civil or- 
 der strongly constituted ; without, national independence 
 firmly established. But had she ever a government which 
 treated her with greater severity, or showed less complaisance 
 for the favorite passions of Democracy ? As to the political 
 constitution of the state. Napoleon's only care was to raise 
 power from the abasement into which it had fallen, to restore 
 to it all the conditions of force and greatness. In this he saw 
 a national interest paramount to all others, whether the na- 
 tion were governed democratically or otherwise. 
 
 But Napoleon was a despot. If he rightly understood 
 and ably served some of the great interests of that new France 
 he had to govern, he profoundly misunderstood and injured 
 
DUTY OF GOVERNMENT* • 19 
 
 others, not less sacred. How was it possible that one so hos- 
 tile to liberty should be favorable to the political propensities 
 of Democracy ? 
 
 I shall not contest this. I run no risk of forgetting that 
 Napoleon was a despot, for I have not to learn it now — I 
 thought so when he was living. It may, however^ be asked 
 whether he could have been otherwise ? whether he could 
 have tolerated political liberty, and whether we were then 
 in a state to receive it ? I shall not attempt to decide these 
 questions. There are men, and very great men, who are 
 suited to certain diseased and transitory crises, and not to the 
 sane and permanent state, of society. Napoleon was, per- 
 haps, one of those men. That he mistook some of the essen- 
 tial wants of our time, nobody is more convinced than I am. 
 But he re-established order and authority in the midst of de- 
 mocratic France. He believed, and he proved, that it was 
 possible to serve and to govern a democratic society without 
 humoring all its inclinations. This is his real greatness. 
 
 Washington has no resemblance to Napoleon. He was 
 not a despot. He founded the political liberty, at the same 
 time as-the national independence, of his country. He used 
 war only as a means to peace. Raised to the supreme 
 power without ambition, he descended from it without regret, 
 as soon as the safety of his country permitted. He is the 
 model for all democratic chiefs. Now you have only to 
 examine his life, his soul, his acts, his thoughts, his words ; 
 you will not find a single mark of condescension, a single 
 moment of indulgence, for the favorite ideas of Democracy, 
 He constancy struggled — struggled even to weariness and to 
 
( 
 
 20 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 sadness — against its exactions. No man was ever more 
 profoundly imbued with the spirit of government, or with re- 
 spect for authority. He never exceeded the rights of power, 
 according to the laws of his country ; but he confirmed and 
 maintained them, in principle as well as in practice, as 
 firmly, as loftily, as he could have done in an old monarchi- 
 cal or aristocratical state. He was one of those who knew 
 that it is no more possible to govern from below in a repub- 
 » lie than in a monarchy — in a democratic than in an aristo- 
 cratic state of society. 
 
 Democratic societies enjoy no privilege which renders 
 the spirit of government less necessary in them than in 
 others ; no privilege which renders their vital conditions 
 different or inferior to those required elsewhere. By an in- 
 fallible consequence of the struggle which infallibly arises 
 in such societies, the possessor of power is continually called 
 on to decide between the contrary impulses by which he is 
 solicited to make himself the artisan of good or the accom- 
 plice of evil, the champion of order or the slave of disorder. 
 The mythic story of the choice of Hercules is the daily and 
 hourly history of his life. Every government, whatever be 
 its form or its name, which, by the vice of its organization 
 or situation, or by the corruption or feebleness of its will, 
 cannot fulfil this inevitable task, will speedily pass away 
 like an evil phantom, or will ruin the democracy it affects 
 to establish. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 OF THE DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC. 
 
 I SHALL not speak of the republican form of government 
 otherwise than with respect. Considered in itself, it is a 
 noble form of government. It has called forth great vir- 
 tues ; it has presided over the destiny and the glory of great 
 nations. 
 
 But a republican government has the same vocation, the 
 same duties, as any other government. Its name gives it no 
 claim to dispensation or privilege. It must satisfy both the 
 general and permanent wants of human society, and the par- 
 ticular wants of the particular community which it is called 
 to govern. 
 
 The permanent want of every community, — the first i ^ 
 and most imperi««s want of France at the present day, — is, CX^^'X'^^ 
 peace in the bosom of society itself. 
 
 A great deal has been said about unity and social frater- 
 nity. These are sublime words, but they ought not to make 
 us forget facts. Nothing has a more certain tendency to 
 ruin a people than a habit of accepting words and appear- 
 ances as realities. Whilst the shouts of unity and fraternity 
 
r 
 
 22 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 resound among us, they are responded to by social war, 
 flagrant or imminent, terrible from the evils it causes, or 
 from those it seems likely to cause. 
 
 I will not dwell on this grievous wound. Yet in order 
 to cure, we ought to touch, and even to probe it. It is an 
 old wound. The history of France is filled with the strug- 
 gle between the different classes of society, of which the 
 Revolution of 1789 was the most general and mighty explo- 
 sion. The contests between nobility and commonalty, aris- 
 tocracy and democracy, masters and workmen, those posses- 
 sing property and those dependent on wages, are all differ- 
 ent forms and phases of the social struggle which has so 
 long agitated France. And it is at the very moment when 
 we are boasting of having reached the summit of civilization 
 — it is while the most humane words that can issue from 
 the lips of man are ringing in our ears, that this struggle is 
 revived more violently, more fiercely than ever ! 
 
 This is a curse and a shame, of which we, and the age 
 we live in, must rid ourselves. Internal peace, peace among 
 all classes of citizens, is the paramount want, the only 
 chance for the salvation of France. 
 
 Will the Democratic Republic give us this peace ? 
 
 It did not begin well. When scarcely born, a civil war 
 was its first necessity — most unfortunately for the republic. 
 Governments find great difficulty in rising out of their 
 cradles. Will the Democratic Republic succeed in the at- 
 tempt ? If time is allowed to it, it will restore social peace. 
 
 There is one circumstance which strikes me powerfully, 
 and causes me great anxiety : that is, the ardor manifested 
 
28 
 
 by the republic to be expressly and officially called demo- 
 cratic. 
 
 The United States of America are universally admitted 
 to be the model of a Republic and a Democracy. Did it ^ 
 ever enter the head of the American people to call the United 
 States a Democratic Republic ? 
 
 No ; nor is this astonishing. In that country there 
 was no struggle between Aristocracy and Democracy ; be- 
 tween an ancient aristocratical society and a new democra- 
 tic society : on the contrary, the leaders of society in the 
 United States, the descendants of the first colonists, the ma- 
 jority of the principal planters in the country and the princi- 
 pal merchants in the towns, who constituted the natural 
 aristocracy of the country, placed themselves at the head of 
 the revolution and the republic. The devotion, energy, and 
 constancy which they showed in the cause, were greater ^ 
 
 than those displayed by the people. The conquest of their ^^^f^*^^^ 
 independence, and the foundation of the republic, was not, 4^^"^^* 
 then, the work and the victory of certain classes over cer-'^ J"^^ ^"^ 
 tain other classes; it was the joint work of all, led by the /" * 
 highest, the wealthiest, and the most enlightened, who had ^' y / 
 often great difficulty in rallying the spirit and sustaining the . 
 
 courage of the mass of the population. 
 
 Whenever officers were to be chosen for the bodies of 
 troops formed in the several States, Washington gave this 
 advice : — " Take none but gentlemen : they are the most 
 trustworthy, as well as the ablest." 
 
 A republican government has more need than any other 
 of the co-operation of every class of its citizens ; if the mass 
 
24 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 of the population does not zealously adopt it, it has no root ; 
 if the higher classes are hostile or indifferent to it, it can en- 
 joy no security. In either case, it is reduced to the neces- 
 sity of oppressing. It is precisely because in a republic the 
 ^ authority of the government is weak and precarious, that it 
 stands in need of great moral support from the society over 
 which it presides. Which are the republics that have lived 
 long and honorably, overcoming the defects and the storms 
 incident to their institutions ? Those only in which the re- 
 publican spirit was sincere and general ; which obtained, on 
 the one side, the attachment and the confidence of the peo- 
 ple, and on the other the decided support of the classes who, 
 by their position, fortune, education, and habits, bring into 
 public life the largest share of natural authority, tranquil in- 
 dependence, knowledge, and leisure. On these conditions 
 only can a republic be established or maintained ; for on 
 these conditions only can it exist without troubling the peace 
 of society, and without condemning its government to the de- 
 plorable alternative of the disorganization of anarchy, or the 
 rigid tension of tyranny. 
 
 The United States of America enjoyed this singular good 
 fortune, but it is denied to the French Republic. Indeed this 
 is not only admitted, but proclaimed and vaunted, by its au- 
 thors. What is the meaning of the words Democratic Repub- 
 lic now current amongst us, and adopted as the official name, 
 the symbol of the government ? It is the echo of an ancient 
 social war-cry — a cry which is still raised, still repeated in 
 every class of society ; still angrily uttered against one class 
 by another, which, in its turn, hears it with terror directed 
 
- ^ 
 
 THE DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC. 25 
 
 against itself. All are in turn democrats as against those 
 above them, aristocrats as against those below ; threatening 
 and threatened, envious or envied, and exhibiting continual 
 and revolting changes of position, attitude, and language, 
 and a deplorable confusion of conflicting ideas and passions. 
 It is war in the midst of chaos. 
 
 But I hear it said, " This war is a fact — it is the domi- 
 nant fact of our history, our society, and our revolution. 
 Such facts can neither be hidden nor passed over in silence, 
 and this is become final and decisive. It is not war that we 
 proclaimed in proclaiming a Democratic Republic, it is vic- 
 tory — the victory of Democracy. Democracy has conquer- 
 ed, and remains alone on the field of battle. She raises her 
 visor, announces her name, and takes possession of her con- 
 quest." 
 
 Such an answer is dictated by illusion or by hypocrisy. 
 How does a government, whether democratic or not, assert 
 and prove its victory, when that victory is real and deci- 
 sive? By restoring peace. Thus, and thus alone, could 
 the Democratic Republic have proved that it had conquered. 
 But does peace reign in France ? Is it even approaching ? 
 Do the various elements of society, willingly or unwillingly 
 satisfied or resigned, really believe in the existence and per- 
 manence of peace, and come to seek tranquillity, order, and 
 protection under the shelter of the Democratic Republic ? 
 Listen to the comments on the title assumed by the republi- 
 can government which are universally heard ; see the strik- 
 ing and menacing facts which are continually occurring, and 
 which are the consequence or the proof of those comments. 
 
u 
 
 u,,^ "WvA^ -«-^c^w 'Mt.^V^ 'M>^«.-J-. *^ ^t^t/V^ ir^*. 
 
 26 DEMOCRACY I» FRANCE^' '^ / ^ 
 
 ^ Is this state of things peace ? Is there, I will not say the 
 
 reality, but the bare appearance, of one of those energetic, 
 wise, and conclusive victories which put an end, for a time 
 at least, to social conflicts, and secure a long truce to har- 
 assed nations ? 
 
 There are facts of such magnitude, clearness, and pro- 
 minence, that no human force or fraud can succeed in hid- 
 ing them. It is in vain that you repeat that the days of fra- 
 ternity are come ; that Democracy, such as you establish it, 
 ' puts an end to all hostilities or conflicts of classes, and as- 
 similates and unites all orders of citizens. The truth, the 
 terrible truth, gleams through these vain words. Interests, 
 passions, pretensions, situations, and classes conflict on every 
 side, with all the fury of boundless hopes and boundless 
 fears. It is clear that the first acts of the Democratic Re- 
 public threaten to plunge herself and us into the chaos of 
 social war. 
 
 And does she give us arms for our defence, or open 
 to us issues for our escape ? 
 
 I pass over the name she assumes ; I turn to the political 
 ideas she proclaims as laws for the government of the 
 state : so far from diminishing my anxiety, these serve but to 
 r^ increase it. For if the banner of the Democratic Republic 
 appears to me to bear the inscription of social war, its con- 
 stitution seems to me to lead directly to revolutionary 
 l^ despotism. I find in it no distinct powers, possessed of 
 sufficient inherent strength to exercise a reciprocal control ; 
 no solid ramparts, under the shelter of which various rights 
 and interests can take root and flourish in safety ; no 
 
 
THE DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC. 27 
 
 organization of guarantees ; no balance of powers in the 
 centre of the state and at the head of government — nothing 
 but a single motive force and various wheels ; a master and 
 his agents; nothing between the personal liberty of the 
 citizens and the bare will of the numerical majority: the 
 principle of despotism, checked by the right of insurrection. 
 
 Such is the position of the Democratic Republic with 
 relation to social order ; such, with relation to political 
 order, is the government which it constitutes. 
 
 What can be the result ? Assuredly neither peace nor 
 liberty ? 
 
 When the republic was proclaimed, in the midst of 
 general and profound alarm, one sentiment prevailed. A 
 great number of men attached to the interests of their 
 country, said, or thought, "Let us wait; let us try — per- 
 haps the republic will be different now from what it was 
 heretofore; let the experiment be tried — let it not be dis- 
 turbed by violence : we shall see the result." . 
 
 They kept their word ; they have excited no troubles, 
 they have raised no obstacles, to disturb or to impede the 
 progress of the republic. 
 
 The same sentiment prevailed throughout Europe — a 
 sentiment inspired, no doubt, by prudence, and not by any 
 cordiality or hope : but the motives which influenced 
 Europe signify little; the important fact is, that no act, 
 no danger from without troubles the French Republic in the 
 experiment of its foundation. 
 
 On the other hand, justice compels us to acknowledge 
 that the leaders of the republic have endeavored to belie 
 
28 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 the predictions of its adversaries and the fears of the public. 
 They have fought — very late, it is true, but at last they 
 have fought — for the existence of society. They have not 
 broken the peace of Europe, and they have striven to main- 
 tain the public credit. These meritorious efforts do honor 
 to the men invested with power, and show, moreover, what 
 the general instincts of the country are. But these men 
 can only retard, they cannot arrest, the downward course 
 of the state on a fatal declivity ; they can find no firm foot- 
 ing, and lose ground at every step. They have sunk into 
 the revolutionary rut ; and though they struggle not to 
 plunge deeper into it, they cannot, or they dare not quit it. 
 The acts of the republic are not, in all points, what they 
 formerly were ; but the republic is what it was. Whether 
 as to social organization or political institutions, the condi- 
 tions of order or the securities for liberty, the republic has 
 nothing better to offer than what she offered fifty years ago. 
 There are the same ideas, the same crude and rash experi- 
 ments, oflen even the same forms and the same words. 
 Strange spectacle ! The authors of the republic are afraid 
 of their own work, and would fain change its character 
 and aspect ; but they can produce nothing but a copy. 
 
 How long, whatever be its ultimate success or failure, 
 the present attempt will last, nobody knows. But hitherto 
 France has evidently reason to fear that its first and para- 
 , mount interests — social peace and political liberty — will be 
 placed, or left, by the Democratic Republic, in immense 
 danger. 
 
 /7 
 
 

 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 OF THE SOCIAL REPUBLIC. 
 
 The Social Republic promises to solve the difficulty. 
 
 " All systems, all governments/' it declares, " have been 
 tried and found wanting. My ideas alone are new, and have 
 not yet been put to the test. My day is come." 
 
 This is a mistake. The ideas propounded by the Social 
 Republic are not new. They are as old as the world. They 
 have risen up in the midst of all the great moral and social 
 crises, whether in the East or the West, in the ancient or the 
 modern world. The second and third centuries in Africa, 
 and especially in Egypt, during the agitations caused by the 
 propagation of Christianity — the middle ages during their 
 confused, stormy fermentation — the sixteenth century in 
 Germany, in the course of the Reformation — and the seven- 
 teenth in England during the political revolution, — had their 
 Socialists and their Communists, thinking, speaking, and act- 
 ing precisely like those of our own day. It is a phase of 
 human nature that reappears at epochs when society is like 
 a boiling caldron, in which every ingredient is thrown to the 
 surface and exposed to view. 
 
30 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 Till now, it is true, these ideas had only been enounced 
 on a small scale, obscurely and timidly, and were repelled 
 and execrated almost as soon as they saw the light. But now 
 they boldly exhibit themselves, and put forth all their preten- 
 sions before the public. It signifies little whether this is by 
 their own strength, by the fault of the public itself, or from 
 causes inherent in the present state of society. Since the 
 Social Republic is proclaimed aloud, we must look at it stea- 
 dily and endeavor to fathom its lowest depths. 
 
 I wish to avoid all circumlocution, to throw aside all dis- 
 guises, and to go straight to the heart of the idol. Nor is 
 this impossible. For as all the efforts of the Social Republic 
 tend to one end, so all its ideas are the offspring of one fun- 
 damental idea. 
 
 This fundamental idea is to be found, explicitly or impli- 
 citly, in the language of all the leaders of the Social Repub- 
 lic, though all do not avow, and some are perhaps not even 
 conscious that they entertain it. M. Proudhon appears to 
 me the one among them who knows best what he thinks and 
 what he wishes : he appears to show the firmest and most 
 consistent understanding in his detestable dreams. 
 
 It is not, however, so firm nor so consistent as it appears, 
 or probably as he himself thinks it. He has not declared, 
 and I doubt if he have perceived, to what his system leads. 
 
 His system, nakedly and rigorously stated, is this : — 
 
 All men have a right — and the same right — to happiness. 
 
 Happiness is the enjoyment (without any limit but that 
 prescribed by the want and the faculty of enjoying) of all 
 the good things existing or possible in this world ; whether 
 
THE SOCIAL REPUBLIC. Si 
 
 natural and primitive, or progressively created by the intel- 
 ligence and the labor of man. 
 
 Certain men, certain families, or certain classes have ac- 
 quired the exclusive enjoyment of some (indeed the greater 
 part) of the most essential and productive of these good 
 things ; or, in other words, these things, or the means of pro- 
 curing them, are become the special and perpetual property 
 of certain men, families, and classes. 
 
 Such a confiscation of a part of the fund common to 
 mankind, for the advantage of a few, is essentially contrary 
 to justice ; contrary to the rights of the men of the same 
 generation, who ought all to enjoy it equally ; and contrary 
 to the rights of successive generations, each of which, on its 
 entrance into life, ought to find the good things of life equal- 
 ly accessible, and to enjoy them in its turn like its predeces- 
 sors. 
 
 Therefore all special and perpetual appropriation of the 
 good things which confer happiness, and of the means of 
 procuring those good things, must be abolished, in order to 
 insure the universal enjoyment and the equal distribution of 
 them amongst all men, and all successive generations of 
 men. 
 
 But how is it possible to abolish property ? or, at least, so 
 to transform it, that, as regards its social and permanent ef- 
 fects, it may be as if it were abolished ? 
 
 Here the leaders of the Social Republic differ greatly 
 among themselves. Some recommend slow and gentle mea. 
 sures ; others urge prompt and decisive ones. Some have 
 recourse to political means — for example, a certain organi- 
 
32 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 zation of existence and labor in common ; others try to in- 
 vent economical and financial expedients — for example, a 
 series of measures designed to destroy the net revenue of 
 property, whether in land or capital, and thus to render pro- 
 perty itself useless and illusory. But all these schemes ori- 
 ginate in the same design and tend to the same result ; the 
 abolition or the nullification of personal, domestic, and hered- 
 itary property ; and of all institutions, social or political, 
 which are based upon personal, domestic, and hereditary 
 property. 
 
 Such, through all the diversity, obscurity, ambiguity, and 
 contradiction of the ideas which circulate among the adhe- 
 rents of the Social Republic, is the beginning and the end, 
 the alpha and omega, of all these systems ; such is the end 
 they pursue, and hope to attain. 
 
 But the following truths are forgotten by M. Proudhon 
 and his friends. 
 
 Mankind is not merely a series of individuals called men ; 
 it is a race, which has a common life, and a general and 
 progressive destiny. This is the distinctive character of 
 man, which he alone of created beings possesses. 
 
 And why is this ? It is because human individuals are 
 not isolated, nor confined to themselves, and to the point they 
 occupy in space or time. They are connected with each 
 other ; they act upon each other, by ties and by means which 
 do not require their presence, and which outlive them. 
 Hence the successive generations of men are linked together 
 in unbroken succeesion. 
 
 The permanent union and progressive development 
 
/ 
 
 THE SOCIAL REPUBLIC. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 which are the consequences of this unbroken succession of 
 man to man, and generation to generation, characterize the 
 human race. They constitute its peculiarity and its great 
 ness, and mark man for sovereigiity ux this world, and for 
 immortality beyond it. .i- /iila^h su) • 
 
 From this are derived, and by this are founded, the family 
 and the state, property and inheritance, country, history, 
 glory, all the facts and all the sentiments which constitute 
 the extended and perpetual life of mankind, amidst the 
 bounded appearance and rapid disappearance of individual 
 men. 
 
 In the Social Republic all this ceases to exist. Men are 
 mere isolated and ephemeral beings, who appear in this life, | ^ 
 and on this earth the scene of life, only to take their subsis- 
 tence and their pleasure, each for himself alone, each by the 
 same right, and without any end or purpose beyond. 
 
 This is precisely the condition of the lower animals. 
 Among them there exists no tie, no influence, which survives 
 the individual, and extends to the race. There is no per- 
 manent appropriation, no hereditary transmission, no unity 
 nor progress in the life of the species ; — nothing but indi- 
 viduals who appear and then vanish, seizing on their passage 
 their portion of the good things of the earth and the pleasures 
 of life, according to the combined measure of their wants and 
 their strength, which, according to them, constitute their 
 right. 
 
 Thus, in order to secure to every individual of the hu- 
 man species the equal and incessantly fluctuating share of 
 the goods and pleasures of sense, the doctripes of the Social 
 
 T^ ^ r//)^',^^ jkc4^iA^ >^^^/^ 
 
Republic bring men down to the level of the lower animals. 
 ^ • They obliterate the human race. 
 
 They do worse. 
 
 There is in the mind of man an imperishable instinct that 
 God presides over his destiny, and that it is not wholly ac- 
 complished in this world. Naturally and universally, man 
 believes in God and invokes him as his support in the present, 
 his hope in the future. 
 
 According to the doctrines of the Social Republic, God is 
 an unknown imaginary power, upon whom the visible and 
 real rulers of men upon earth throw the weight of their own 
 responsibility, and by thus directing the eyes of the suffering 
 towards another master and another state of existence, dis- 
 pose them to acquiesce in their afflictions, whilst they secure 
 themselves in the maintenance of their usurpations. Ac- 
 cording then to this doctrine, God is evil, for it is in his name 
 that men are persuaded to acquiesce in evil. To banish evil 
 from the earth, it therefore is necessary to banish God from 
 the mind of man. Men left alone with their earthly masters, 
 and reduced to an earthly existence, will demand the enjoy- 
 ments of this life and the equal distribution of these enjoy- 
 ments ; and as soon as those who are without them insist on 
 having them, they will have them, for they are the strongest. 
 
 Thus God and the human race will disappear together. 
 In their place will remain animals still bearing the name of 
 men, more intelligent and more powerful than other animals, 
 but having the same condition and the same destiny ; and 
 like them seizing, on their passage through life, their portion 
 of the goods of earth and the pleasures of sense, according to 
 
F 
 
 THE SOCIAL REPUBLIC. 35 
 
 the combined measure of their wants and their strength, 
 which constitute their right. 
 
 Such is the philosophy of the Social Republic; such, 
 therefore, is the basis of its policy. We have traced its 
 origin and its end. 
 
 I will not insult the good sense or the dignity of mankind 
 by dwelling on it longer. It is the degradation of man, and 
 the destruction of society. 
 
 Not only of society as at present constituted, but of all 
 human society whatsoever : for all society rests on founda- 
 tions which it is the object of the Social Republic to over- 
 throw. It is not a mere invasion of the social edifice by 
 intruders, whether barbarian or not ; it is the utter ruin of 
 the edifice itself that is contemplated. If M. Proudhon had 
 the absolute disposal of society in its present state, with all 
 that it possesses or enjoys, and were to change the distribution 
 and the possessors of property at his own good pleasure, he 
 would be guilty of great iniquity, and occasion great suffer- 
 ing. He would not, however, destroy society. But if he 
 pretended to give the ideas with which he tries to batter 
 down the present structure of society, as laws to one newly 
 framed, it would infallibly perish. Instead of a State and a 
 People, there would be only a chaos of human beings, without 
 a tie and without repose. Nor would it be possible to reduce 
 that chaos to order without abandoning or evading the ideas 
 of the Social Republic, and returning to the natural con- 
 ditions of social order. 
 
 The Social Republic is then at once odious and impossi- 
 
36 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 ble. It is the most absurd, and at the same time the most 
 perverse, of all chimeras. 
 
 But we must not presume upon this. Nothing is more 
 dangerous than what is at once strong and impossible. The 
 Social Republic is strong ; indeed how can it be otherwise ? 
 , Availing themselves with ardor of every kind of liberty 
 / granted for the promulgation of ideas, its advocates are in- 
 / cessantly laboring to diffuse their principles and their pro- 
 / mises through the densest ranks of society. There they 
 L find masses of men easy to delude, easy to inflame. They 
 offer them rights in conformity with their desires. They 
 excite their passions in the name of justice and truth. For 
 it would be puerile to deny (and for the honor of human 
 nature we must admit) that the ideas of the Social Republic 
 have, to many minds, the character and the force of truth. 
 In questions so complex and so exciting, the smallest gleam 
 of truth is sufficient to dazzle the eyes and inflame the hearts 
 of men, and to dispose them to embrace with transport the 
 grossest and most fatal errors with which that truth is 
 blended. Fanaticism is kindled at the same time that self- 
 ishness is awakened; sincere devotedness joins hands with 
 brutal passions ; and, in the terrible fermentation which en- 
 sues, evil predominates ; the portion of good mingled with 
 it acts only as its veil and its instrument. 
 
 We have no right to complain, for it is we ourselves who 
 
 incessantly add fuel to the fire — and this is the most deep- 
 
 j seated of our maladies. It is we who give to the Social 
 
 I Republic its chief strength. It is the chaos of our political 
 
i 
 
 THE SOCIAL REPUBLIC. 37 
 
 ideas and our political morality — that chaos disguised some- < 
 times under the word democracy, sometimes under that of ' 
 equality, sometimes under that of people — which opens all j 
 the gates, and throws down all the ramparts of society before 
 it. We sa y that Democracy is every thing. The men ofl 
 the Social Republic reply, " Democracy is ourselves." We 
 proclaim, in language of infinite confusion, the absolute 
 equality of rights and the sovereign right of numbers. The 
 men of the Social Republic come forward and say, " Count 
 our numbers." The perpetual confusion of the true and 
 the false, the good and the bad, the possible and the chimeri- 
 cal, which prevails in our own policy, our own language, 
 our own acts — this it is which has enfeebled our arm for de- 
 fence, and given to the Social Republic a confidence, an 
 arrogance, and an influence for attack, which of itself it 
 would never possess. 
 
 When this confusion shall be dissipated ; when we shall 
 arrive at that period of maturity in which free nations, 
 instead of blindly following their first impressions, whither- 
 soever they may lead, see things as they really are, assign 
 to the different elements of society their just measure, and 
 to words their true meaning, and regulate their ideas as they 
 do their affairs, with that firm moderation which rejects all 
 fantasies, admits all necessities, respects all rights, has regard 
 to all interests, and represses all usurpations ; — those from 
 below no less than those from above — those of fanaticism no 
 less than those of selfishness : when we shall have reached 
 this point, although the Social Republic may not entirely dis- 
 appear, and although we may not have entirely crushed its 
 
38 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 efTorts nor annihilated its dangers (for it derives its ambition 
 and its strength from sources that none can dry up), still it 
 will be controlled by the union and the order of society ; all 
 that is most absurd and perverse in its doctrines will be in- 
 cessantly combated and defeated, and it will in time take its 
 due place in that vast and imposing development of the 
 human race which is passing before our eyes. 
 
 l^yk 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 WHAT ARI THE REAL AND ESSENTIAL ELEMENTS OF SOCIETY 
 IN FRANCE? 
 
 The firsi step towards extricating ourselves out of the chaos 
 in which ve are plunged, is, a full understanding and frank 
 admission of all the real and essential elements of which 
 society in Frtnce is now composed. 
 
 It is became we misunderstand these elements, or refuse 
 them the place and the consideration they deserve, that we 
 remain in, or relapse into, chaos. 
 
 A society may be tortured, perhaps destroyed ; but you 
 cannot force it to assume a form and mode of existence 
 foreign to its nature, either by disregarding the essential 
 elements ol which it is constituted, or by doing violence to 
 them. 
 
 Let us Irst advert to that civil order which forms the 
 basis of Freich society, as of every other society. 
 
 Family ; oroperty of all kinds, whether land, capital, or 
 wages ; labor, under all its forms, individual or collective, 
 intellectual or manual ; the situations in which men are 
 placed, or the relations which are introduced among them 
 
40 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 by the incidents of family, property, and labor ; — such are 
 the constituents of civil society. 
 
 The essential and characteristic fact in French civil 
 society is, unity of laws and equality of rights. All families, 
 property of every kind, labor of every description, are gov- 
 erned by the same laws, and possess or confer the sa«ie civil 
 rights. There are no privileges ; that is, no laws cr rights 
 peculiar to particular families, or to property or labor of 
 particular sorts. 
 
 This is a new and mighty fact in the history of human 
 societies. 
 
 But notwithstanding this fact, notwithstanding this civil 
 unity and equality, there are evidently numerous and great 
 diversities and inequalities, which unity of laws 2nd equality 
 of rights can neither prevent nor remove. 
 
 As to property, whether in immovable:^ or movables, 
 land or capital, there are rich and poor j tiere are large, 
 middling, and small properties. 
 
 The great proprietors may be less numerous and less 
 wealthy, and the middling and small proprietors mo-y be more 
 numerous and more powerful, than they were formerly, or 
 than they are in other countries ; but this does )ot prevent 
 the inequality amongst them from being real and s^eat enough 
 to occasion a radical difference and inequaliy of social 
 position. / 
 
 From diversities of position founded on propffty, I pass on 
 to those founded upon labor, of every kind an/ degree, from 
 the highest intellectual, to the lowest manual labor. Here 
 too I meet with the same fact. Here too di/ersity and in- 
 
ELEMENTS OF SOCIETY. 41 
 
 equality arise and subsist, in spite of identical laws and equal 
 rights. 
 
 In the professions called liberal, or those which depend 
 on the cultivation and employment of the intellect ; among 
 lawyers, physicians, men of science, and literary men of 
 every sort, some few rise to the highest rank, attract business, 
 and gain success, reputation, wealth, and influence. Others 
 earn laboriously what is barely sufficient for the wants of 
 their families, and the decencies of their station. Many 
 more vegetate in obscure and unemployed indigence. 
 
 And here one fact deserves notice. From the time when 
 all professions have been accessible to all, from the time when 
 labor has been free, subject only to the same laws for all, 
 the number of men who have raised themselves to the first 
 ranks in the liberal professions has not sensibly increased. It 
 does not appear that there are now more great lawyers or 
 physicians, more men of science or letters of the first order, 
 than there were formerly. - It is the men of the second order, 
 and the obscure and idle multitude, that are multiplied. It 
 is as if Providence did not permit human laws to have any 
 influence over the intellectual rank of its creatures, or the 
 extent and magnificence of its gifts. 
 
 In the other trades or professions, in which labor is chiefly 
 material and manual, there are also different and unequal 
 situations. Some, by intelligence and good conduct, accu- 
 mulate a capital and enter upon the path of competence and 
 advancement ; others, either incapable or improvident, lazy 
 or dissolute, remain in the narrow and precarious condition 
 of men dependent upon the daily casualties of wages. 
 3* 
 
42 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 Thus, throughout the whole extent of civil society, — 
 whether among those who depend on labor, or those possessed 
 of property, — diversity and inequality of situation arise and 
 coexist with unity of laws and equality of rights. 
 
 How, indeed, can it be otherwise ? If we examine every 
 form of human society throughout all ages and countries — 
 whatever be the variety of their organization, government, 
 extent, or duration, or of the kind and degree of civilization 
 to which they have attained — we shall find three types of 
 social position always fundamentally the same, though un- 
 der very different forms and very differently distributed. 
 
 1. Men living on the income of their property, whether 
 in land or capital, without seeking to increase it by their 
 own labor ; 
 
 2. Men occupied in increasing by their own labor the 
 property, whether in land or capital, which they possess ; 
 
 3. Men living by their labor without land or capital. 
 
 These diversities and inequalities in the social condition 
 of men are not accidental, or peculiar to any particular time 
 or country. They are universal facts, which naturally arise 
 in every human society, amidst circumstances, and under 
 laws, the most widely different. 
 
 And the more accurately we study them, the more clearly 
 we shall perceive that there exists an intimate connection 
 and a profound harmony between these facts and the nature 
 of man, which we know, on the one hand, and the mysteries 
 
ELEMENTS OF SOCIETY. 43 
 
 of his destiny, of which we can only obtain a dim and dis- 
 tant glance, on the other. 
 
 Nor is this all. Independently of these diversities and 
 inequalities among individuals, whether proprietors or labor- 
 ers, other diversities and other inequalities exist among the 
 kinds of property and of labor. These differences are not 
 less real than the others, though they are less apparent ; nor 
 are they more incompatible with unity of laws or equality 
 of civil rights. 
 
 Movable property, or capital, has acquired, and contin- 
 ues to acquire, an ever increasing extension and importance 
 in the communities of modern Europe. It is evident that 
 the progress of civilization in our times is entirely in favor 
 of its development ; a just requital for the immense services 
 which capital has rendered to civilization. 
 
 But this is not enough : efforts are continually made to as- 
 similate immovable to movable property : to render land as 
 transferable, as divisible, as convenient to possess and to im- 
 prove as capital. All the proposed innovations, direct or 
 indirect, in the laws relating to landed property, have this 
 object in view, either openly or covertly. 
 
 But though a movement so favorable to capital is going 
 on, landed property is still the most considerable in France, 
 and still holds the first place in the estimation and the desires 
 of the people. Those who po^ess it addict themselves more 
 and more to the enjoyment of it, and those who do not pos- 
 sess it are more and more eager after its acquisition. The 
 great proprietor is returning to the taste for living on his 
 estate : the tradesman, who has earned a competence, retires 
 
t 
 
 44 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 to the country to enjoy repose : the peasant thinks of nothing 
 
 but how to add field to field. Whilst every thing is done to 
 
 favor the development of capital, landed property is more 
 
 in request and more prized than ever. 
 
 yi It may be confidently predicted that if, as I hope, social 
 
 ./ order triumphs over its insane or depraved enemies, the 
 
 t attacks of which landed property is now the object, and the 
 
 . ^ clangers with which it is threatened, will, in the end, enhance 
 
 f^^l its preponderance in society. 
 
 Whence arises this preponderance? Is it merely be- 
 cause, of all sorts of property, land is the most secure, the 
 least variable; — that which best resists the perturbations, 
 and survives the calamities of society ? 
 
 This motive, though real, powerful, and obvious, is far 
 from being the only one. There are other motives, or 
 rather we may call them deep-seated instincts, whose empire 
 over man is great, even when he is unconscious of it. 
 These secure the social preponderance of landed property, 
 or restore it when transiently shaken or enfeebled. Among 
 these instincts, two appear to me the most powerful ; it will 
 be sufficient to indicate them, for an attempt to fathom their 
 depths would carry me too far. 
 •* Movable property, or capital, may procure a man all 
 
 the advantages of wealth ; but property in land gives him 
 much more than this. It gives him a place in the domain 
 of the world — it unites his life to the life which animates all 
 creation. Money is an instrument by which man can pro- 
 cure the satisfaction of his wants and his desires. Landed 
 property is the establishment of man as sovereign in the 
 
fA^Cu^ . \j^trrid~^ -A/Z-v-V-^^^-AL^^y^'^ 
 
 ELEMENTS OF SOCIETY. 45 
 
 midst of nature. It satisfies not only his wants and his 
 desires, but tastes deeply implanted in his nature. For his 
 family, it creates that domestic country called home, with all 
 the living sympathies and all the future hopes and projects 
 which people it. And whilst property in land is more con- 
 sonant than any other to the nature of man, it also affords a 
 field of activity the most favorable to his moral develop- 
 ment, the most suited to inspire a just sentiment of his nature 
 and his powers. In almost all the other trades or profes- 
 sions, whether commercial or scientific, success appears to 
 depend solely on himself — on his talents, address, prudence, 
 and vigilance. In agricultural life, man is constantly in the 
 presence of God, and of his power. Activity, talents, pru- 
 dence and vigilance, are as necessary here as elsewhere to 
 the success of his labors, but they are evidently no less (. ^ 
 insufficient than they are necessary. It is God who rules ^ j/ly^^ 
 the seasons and the temperature, the sun and the rain, and iA/Xf^^ 
 all those phenomena of nature which determine the success ^i^^^Jfj^ 
 or the failure of the labors of man on the soil which he cul- fXJt^t 
 tivates. There is no pride which can resist this dependence, 'a '* 
 
 : ^f 
 
 no address which can escape it. Nor is it only a sentiment ^'^ ^^ 
 
 of humility as to his power over his own destiny which is '* >^ y 
 
 thus inculcated upon man ; he learns also tranquillity and {/^>%y^ 
 
 patience. He cannot flatter himself that the most ingenious ^j 
 
 inventions or the most restless sctivity will insure his sue- JLoM' 
 cess ; when he has done all that depends upon him for the ■- i , 
 
 » / 
 tion in which man is placed by the possession and cultivation 
 
 cultivation and the fertilization of the soil, he must wait with 
 resignation. The more profoundly we examine the situa- 
 
46 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 of the soil, the more do we discover how rich it is in salutary- 
 lessons to his reason, and benign influences on his character. 
 Men do not analyze these facts, but they have an instinctive 
 sentiment of them, which powerfully contributes to that pe- 
 culiar respect in which they hold property in land, and to 
 the preponderance which that kind of property enjoys over 
 every other. This preponderance is a natural, legitimate, 
 and salutary fact, which, especially in a great country, 
 society at large has a strong interest in recognizing and 
 respecting. 
 
 What I have just shown with relation to property, is 
 equally true with relation to labor. It is the glory of 
 modern civilization to have understood and proclaimed the 
 moral value and the social importance of labor; to have 
 raised it to the estimation and the rank which justly belong 
 to it. If I had to point out the most profound evil, the most 
 j I fatal vice, of the state of things which prevailed in France 
 J up to the sixteenth century, I should say, without hesitation, 
 I the contempt in which labor was held. Contempt of labor 
 and pride in idleness are certain signs either that society is 
 under the dominion of brute force, or that it is verging to its 
 decline. Labor is the law which God has enjoined on man. 
 It is by labor that he developes and improves every thing 
 around him — by labor that he developes and improves his 
 own nature. Labor is become the surest pledge of peace 
 between nations. The respect and the liberty enjoyed by 
 labor tend more than any thing to calm the anxieties which 
 we might otherwise too justly feel, and to raise our hopes for 
 the prospects of the human race. By what fatality, then. 
 
 .«. 
 
ELEMENTS OF SOCIETY. 47 
 
 has it happened that the word Idbor^ so honorable to modern 
 civilization, is become a war-cry and a source of disasters in 
 France ? It is because that word is made a cloak for a great 
 and pernicious lie. It is not labor, its interests or its rights, 
 which are the object of the ferment excited in its name ; the 
 war which has been declared on the plea of protecting labor, 
 is not in fact waged in its behalf, nor, if successful, would 
 redound to its advantage. It is, on the contrary, directed 
 against labor, whose ruin and degradation would be its infal- 
 lible result. 
 
 Labor, like family, property, and every thing else in this 
 world, is subject to natural and general laws ; among which 
 are, diversity and inequality of the kinds and results of la- 
 bor, and of the stations of those by whom it is performed. 
 Intellectual labor is superior to manual. Descartes, who 
 enlightened France, and Colbert, who laid the foundations of 
 her prosperity, performed a labor superior to that of the 
 workman who prints the works of Descartes, or who helps to 
 produce the manufactures fostered by Colbert ; and among 
 these very workmen, those who are intelligent, moral, and 
 industrious, justly attain to a situation superior to that which 
 the same description of labor can secure to the dull, the lazy, 
 or the licentious. The variety of tasks and vocations allot- 
 ted to man is infinite. Labor is every where — in the house 
 of a father of a family, who educates his children and super- 
 intends his aifairs ; in the cabinet of a statesman who takes 
 part in the government of his country ; in that of the ma- 
 gistrate who administers its laws -, of the philosopher who 
 instructs, and of the poet who charms it; in the fields. 
 
 
48 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 on the ocean, on the highways, in the manufactories and the 
 workshops ; and in every situation, in every variety of la- 
 bor, in every class of laborers, diversity and inequality arise 
 and subsist ; inequality of intellectual power, of moral merit, 
 of social importance, of material wealth. These are the na- 
 tural, primitive, universal laws of labor, originating in the 
 nature and condition of man, or, to speak more • properly, 
 ordained by the wisdom of God. It is against these laws 
 that the war of which we are witnesses is waged ; it is this 
 hierarchy of labor, founded on the decrees of God and the 
 free actions of man, which it is the object of this war to abol- 
 ish ; and to substitute — what ? — the degradation and the ruin 
 of labor, by the reduction of all labor and all laborers to the 
 same level ! Examine the meaning which is usually affixed 
 to the word labor in the language of these enemies of social 
 order. They do not distinctly say that material and man- 
 ual work are the only real work ; indeed they occasionally 
 affect great respect for purely intellectual labor : but they 
 omit to mention the various sorts of higher labors which are 
 performed on every stage of the social scale ; their whole 
 attention is absorbed by material labor, which they constant- 
 ly represent as the kind of labor whose importance throws 
 every other into the shade. In short, they talk in a manner 
 to excite and keep alive in the minds of the men employed 
 in physical labor, the opinion that theirs only has a claim to 
 the name and the rights of labor. Even when speaking not 
 of labor, but of laborers, they hold the same levelling and 
 depreciating language ; ascribing the rights of labor to work- 
 men, as such, independently of all degrees of personal merit. 
 
ELEMENTS OF SOCIETY, 49 
 
 Thus the coarsest and most ordinary labor is assumed as the 
 standard to which all the higher degrees are adjusted ; and 
 diversity and inequality are abolished, for the supposed ad- 
 vantage of that which is the least and the lowest in the 
 scale ! 
 
 Do those who hold such language serve— do they even 
 understand — the cause which they affect to advocate ? Is 
 it by such means that we can advance, or even barely keep 
 our ground, on that glorious path of civilization in which la- 
 bor acquired its proper rank and dignity ? Do we not, on 
 the contrary, mutilate, degrade, and disgrace labor, when 
 we strip it of a part of its noblest claims, and substitute in 
 their stead pretensions which are not only absurd and pre- 
 posterous, but mean, in spite of their insolence ? Lastly, 
 does not such language sh®w a gross misconception and vio- 
 lent perversion of the natural facts on which civil society m 
 France is founded ? This, though admitting unity of laws 
 and equality of rights, assuredly never pretended to abolish 
 that variety of faculties, merits, and destinies, which is one 
 of the mysterious laws of God, and the inevitable result of 
 the free will of man . 
 
 Let us now turn from civil to political society ; that is, 
 the relation existing between men, in virtue of their interests, 
 opinions and sentiments, and the ruling power under which 
 they live. Let us endeavor here to determine also the real 
 and essential elements of which society is now composed in 
 France. 
 
 In a free country, or in one struggling to become free, | 
 
50 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 the elements of political society are political parties, in the 
 / widest and highest acceptation of the term. 
 
 Legally, there are now no other parties in France than 
 those inherent in every constitutional state ; the party of the 
 Government and that of the Opposition. There are neither 
 Legitimists nor Orleanists. The Republic exists, and will 
 not suifer the principle of its existence to be attacked ; and 
 as this is the indisputable right of every established govern- 
 ment, it is by no means my intention to contest or to in- 
 fringe it. 
 
 But there are things so inherent in society, that prohibit- 
 ive laws, even when obeyed, fail to eradicate them. There 
 are political parties of which the germ lies so deeply buried, 
 and the roots so widely spread, that they do not die, even 
 when they are no longer apparent. 
 
 The Legitimist party is not a mere dynastic, nor is it a 
 mere monarchical, party. It is indeed attached to a princi- 
 ple and to a name ; but it also occupies a great substantive 
 place both in the history and on the soil of France. It rep- 
 resents all that remains of the elements so long predominant 
 throughout that French society which contained within itself 
 the fruitful and vigorous germs of progress; and out of 
 which arose, after a growth of ages, the France which sud- 
 denly burst forth in 1789, mighty, aspiring, and glorious. 
 Though the French Revolution overthrew the ancient fabric 
 of French society, it could not annihilate its elements. In 
 spite of the convulsions by which they were dispersed, and 
 in the midst of the ruins by which they are surrounded, these 
 
ELEMENTS OF SOCIETY. 61 
 
 still subsist, and are still considerable in modern France. At 
 every succeeding crisis they evidently acquiesce more com- 
 pletely in the social order and political constitution which the 
 country has adopted ; and by this acquiescence they take 
 their station in it, and change their position without disown- 
 ing their character. 
 
 Moreover, does any body believe that the party which en- 
 deavored to found a constitutional monarchy in 1830, and 
 which upheld that monarchy for more than seventeen years, 
 has vanished in the tempest that overthrew the edifice it had -^ 
 
 raised? It has been called the party of the bourgeoisie, — 
 
 the middle classes ; and this in fact it was, and still is. The 
 ascendency of the middle classes in France, incessantly sup- 
 plied by recruits from the bulk of the population, is the cha- 
 racteristic feature in our history since 1789. Not only have 
 they conquered that ascendency, but they have justified their 
 claims to it. Amidst the grievous errors into which they J 
 
 have fallen, and for which they have paid so dearly, they 
 have shown that they really possessed the qualities that con- 
 stitute the strength and greatness of a nation. On all emer- 
 gencies, for all the wants of the country in war or peace, and 
 to every kind of social career, this class has abundantly fur- 
 nished men, nay, generations of men, able, active, and sin- 
 cerely devoted to the service of their country. When called 
 on in 1830 to found a new monarchy, the middle classes 
 brought to that difficult task a spirit of justice and political 
 sincerity of which no succeeding event can cancel the merit. 
 In spite of all the passions and all the perils that assailed 
 them, in spite even of their own passions, they earnestly de- 
 
52 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 sired constitutional order, and they faithfully observed it. At 
 hom^, they respected and maintained universal, legal, and 
 practical liberty; abroad, universal, firm, and prosperous 
 peace. 
 
 I am not one of those who disregard or despise the power 
 of the affections in political affairs. I do not regard it as any 
 proof of greatness or strength of mind to say, " We don't 
 care for such or such a family ; we attach no value to pro- 
 per names ; we take men or leave them according to our 
 wants or our interests :" to me, this language, and the class 
 of opinions which it discloses, appear to betray far more po- 
 litical ignorance and impotence than elevation of mind or 
 rectitude of judgment. It is, however, indisputable that po- 
 litical parties having no other attachment than that excited 
 by proper names, and no other strength than that deriv- 
 ed from personal affections, would be extremely feeble and 
 inefficient. But can any body for a moment imagine that 
 the Legitimist party, or the party attached to the monarchy 
 of 1830, are of that nature ? Is it not evident, on the con- 
 trary, that these parties are far more the offspring of the ge- 
 neral course of events than of attachment to persons ? that 
 they are of a social, as well as of a political nature, and cor- 
 respond to the most deep-rooted and indestructible elements 
 of society in France ? 
 
 Around these great parties floats the mass of the popula- 
 tion ; holding to the one or the other by its interests, its ha- 
 bits, or its virtuous and rational instincts ; but without any 
 strong or solid adhesion, and incessantly assailed and worked 
 upon by Socialists and Communists of every shade. These 
 
ELEMENTS OP SOCIETY. 53 
 
 last do not constitute political parties, for they do not espouse < 
 any political principle, nor advocate any peculiar political 
 organization. Their only endeavor is to destroy all the in- 
 fluences, and to break all the ties, material or moral, which 
 bind the part of the population living by the labor of its 
 hands, to the class occupied in the business of the state ; to 
 divide that part of the population from the land-owner, the 
 capitalist, the clergy, and all the other established authori- 
 ties ; and finally to work upon it through its miseries, and 
 rule it by its appetites. One name denotes them all ; all are 
 members of the one great Anarchical Party. It is not the ^ J 
 superiority of this or that form of government which they 
 preach to the people — it is sheer and absolute anarchy ; for 
 one kind of government is as incompatible with chaos as an- 
 other. There is, however, one striking fact : whether sin- 
 cere or depraved, blind Utopians or designing Anarchists, 
 all these disturbers of social order are Republicans. Not 
 that they are more attached or more submissive to republi- %/ 
 can government than to any other ; for every regular andy \j 
 efficient government, whether republican or monarchical, is 
 equally odious to them ; but they hope that under a republic 
 they shall find stronger weapons to aid their attacks, and fee- 
 bler barriers to resist them. This is the secret of their pre- 
 ference. 
 
 I have thus surveyed French society on every side. I have 
 sought out and exhibited all its real and essential elements, 
 and all my inquiries lead to the same result. On every side, 
 whether in political or civil life, I meet with profound diver- 
 sities and inequalities ; diversities and inequalities which 
 
54 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 can neither be obliterated in civil life by unity of laws and 
 equality of rights, nor in political life by a republican 
 government ; and which endure or revive under legislation 
 of every kind and government of every form. 
 
 This is not an opinion, an argument, or a conjecture, but 
 a statement of facts. 
 
 Now what is the import and tendency of these facts ? 
 Shall we find in them the ancient classifications of society ? 
 Will the ^ancient political denominations apply to them ? 
 Do they exhibit an aristocracy opposed to a democracy ; or 
 a nobility, a bourgeoisie, and a so-called people ? Would 
 these diversities and inequalities of social and political posi- 
 tion form, or tend to form, a hierarchy of classes analogous 
 to those which formerly existed in French society ? 
 
 No, certainly ! — the words aristocracy, democracy, no- 
 hility, iourgeoisie, or hierarchy, do not correspond to the con- 
 stituent elements of modern French society, or express them 
 with any truth or accuracy. 
 
 Does then this society consist solely of citizens equal 
 among each other? Are there no different classes, and 
 only individual diversities and inequalities, devoid of all 
 political importance ? Is there nothing but a great and 
 uniform democracy, which seeks satisfaction in a republic at 
 the risk of finding repose in a despotism ? 
 
 Neither is this the fact; either of these descriptions 
 would equally misrepresent the true state of our society. 
 We must emancipate ourselves from the tyranny of words, 
 and see things as they really are. France is extremely 
 new, and yet full of the pastj whilst the principles of 
 
ELEMENTS OF SOCIETY. 55 
 
 unity and equality have determined her organization, she 
 still contains social conditions and political situations pro- 
 foundly different and unequal. There is no hierarchical 
 classification, but there are different classes; there is no 
 aristocracy, properly so called, but there is something which 
 is not democracy. The real, essential, and distinct elements 
 of French society, which I have just described, may en- 
 feeble each other by perpetual conflicts, but neither can 
 destroy or obliterate the other. They survive all the 
 struggles in which they engage, and all the calamities 
 which they inflict on each other. Their coexistence is 
 a fact which it is not in their power to abolish. Let them 
 then fully acquiesce in it ; let them live together, and in 
 peace. Neither the liberty nor the repose, the dignity nor 
 the prosperity, the greatness nor the security of France, are 
 to be had on any other terms. 
 
 On what conditions can this peace be established ? 
 
CHAPTER VJ. 
 
 POLITICAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE IN FRANCE. 
 
 Whenever it shall have been distinctly perceived and fully 
 admitted, that the different classes which exist among us, 
 and the political parties which correspond to those classes, 
 are natural and deeply-rooted elements of French society, 
 a great step will have been made towards social peace. 
 
 This peace is impossible so long as each of the different 
 classes and the great political parties into which our society 
 is divided cherishes the hope of annihilating the others, and 
 of reigning alone. That is the evil which, ever since 1789, 
 has periodically agitated and convulsed France. Some- 
 times the democratic element has aimed at the extinction of 
 the aristocratic ; at other times the aristocratic element has 
 tried to crush the democratic, and to regain its former pre- 
 dominance. Constitutions, laws, and the administration of 
 the government have been by turns directed, like engines 
 of war, to one or the other of these ends — a war to the 
 death, in which neither combatant believed his life com- 
 patible with that of his rival. 
 
POLITICAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE. 57 
 
 This war was suspended by the Emperor Napoleon. 
 He rallied around him the class3s which had formerly pos- 
 sessed, and those which actually enjoyed, power and influ- 
 ence ; and by the security which he offered them, by the 
 continual turmoil in which he kept them, or by the yoke 
 which he imposed upon them, he established and maintained 
 peace. 
 
 After him, from 1814 to 1830, and from 1830 to 1848, 
 this war was renewed. A great progress had been made. 
 Liberty had become real. Both the ancient aristocratic, and 
 the modern democratic elements acquired strength ; but 
 though neither could succeed in suppressing the other, each 
 was impatient of its adversary's existence, and eagerly strove 
 for the mastery. 
 
 And now a third combatant has entered the arena. The 
 democratic party having divided itself into two conflicting 
 sections, the workmen are now arrayed against their masters, 
 or the people against the middle classes. This new war, 
 like the former, is a war to the death ; for the new aspirant 
 is as arrogant and exclusive as the others can have ever 
 been. The sovereignty, it is said, belongs of right to the 
 people only ; and no rival, ancient or modern, noble or bour- 
 geois, can be admitted to share it. 
 
 Every pretension of this kind must be withdrawn, not by 
 one only, but by all of the contending parties. The great 
 elements of society among us— the old aristocracy, the mid- 
 dle classes, and the people — must completely renounce the 
 hope of excluding and annihilating each other. Let them 
 vie with each other in influence ; let each maintain its posi- 
 
 4 
 
 2 
 
\^ 
 
 58 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 tion and its rights, or even endeavor to extend and improve 
 them, for in such efforts consists the political life of a coun- 
 try. But there must be an end of all radical hostility : they 
 must resign themselves to live together, side by side, in the 
 ranks of the government as well as in civil society. This 
 is the first condition of social peace. How, it may be asked, 
 can this condition be satisfied ? How can the different ele- 
 ments of our society be brought to tolerate each other's exis- 
 tence, and to fulfil their several functions in the government 
 of the country ? : 
 
 I reply, by such an organization of that government as 
 \ / I iifiay assign to each its place and functions ; may concede 
 something to the wishes, while it imposes limits to the ambi- 
 tion, of all. 
 
 I am here met by an idea, perhaps the most false and 
 fatal of all those current in our days on the subject of con- 
 stitutional organization. It is this : — " National unity in- 
 volves political unity. There is but one people : there can 
 exist at the head and in the name of this people, but one 
 power." 
 
 This is the idea which most completely characterizes 
 both revolution and despotism. The Convention and Louis 
 XLV. exclaimed alike, " L'Etat, c'est moi." 
 
 It is as false as it is tyrannical. A nation is not a vast 
 aggregate of men, consisting of so many thousands or mil- 
 lions, occupying a certain extent of ground, and concentrated 
 in, and represented by, a unit, called king or assembly. A 
 nation is a great organic body, formed by the union within 
 one country of certain social elements which assume the 
 
POLITICAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE. 59 
 
 shape and constitution naturally impressed upon them by the 
 primitive laws of God and the free acts of man. The diver- 
 sity of these elements is, as we have just seen, one of the 
 essential facts resulting from those laws ; and is absolutely 
 inconsistent with the false and tyrannous unity which it is 
 proposed to establish at the centre of government, as repre- 
 sentative of that society in which it never exists. 
 
 What then, it is said, must all the elements of society, 
 all the groups of which it is naturally composed, all the 
 various classes, professions, and opinions it contains, be re- 
 presented in the government by powers corresponding to 
 each ? 
 
 No, certainly : society is not a federation of professions, 
 classes, and opinions, which treat, by their several delegates, 
 of the affairs which are common to them all ; any more than 
 it is a uniform mass of exactly similar elements, which send 
 their representatives to the centre of government only be- 
 cause they cannot all repair thither themselves, and are 
 compelled to reduce themselves to a number which can meet 
 in one place and deliberate in common. Social unity requires 
 that there should be but one government ; but the diversity 
 of the social elements equally requires that this government 
 should not be one sole power. 
 
 There is a natural process of attraction and concentration 
 at work in the heart of society, and among the numberless 
 particular associations which it contains (such as families, 
 professions, classes, and parties), by which all the smaller 
 associations are successively absorbed into the larger. The 
 multitude of particular and different elements are thus re- 
 
 ■n 
 
60 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 duced to a small number of principal and essential elements, 
 which include and represent all the rest. 
 
 I do not think that these principal elements of society 
 ought to be all specially represented in the government 
 of the state by several authorities ; I only maintain that 
 their diversity is inconsistent with the unity of the central 
 power. 
 
 To this reasoning it has often been confidently replied — 
 that the various elements of society are congregated, by the 
 process of free election, in a single assembly which repre- 
 sents the whole nation ; and which affords them an arena for 
 free discussion, where they can maintain their opinions, their 
 interests and their rights, and exert their proper influence 
 over the resolutions of the assembly, and consequently over 
 the government of the state. 
 
 We are then to infer from this that we have discharged 
 
 the claims of the most varied, weighty, and essential social 
 
 elements when we have said, " Get yourselves elected, then 
 
 give your opinion, and try to make it the prevalent one I" 
 
 /^lection and discussion constitute the entire basis which 
 
 ( is to sustain the social edifice ; election and discussion 
 
 afford a sufficient guarantee for all interests, rights, and 
 
 V liberties ! 
 
 I Such a theory betrays a strange ignorance of human 
 
 k^ature, human society, and the French people. 
 
 ^. I will put a single question. The interests of society are 
 
 I twofold ; those of stability and conservation on the one hand, 
 
 [ and those of activity and progress on the other. If you 
 
 wanted to secure the interests of activity and progress, would 
 
POLITICAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE. 61 
 
 you seek this security among the social elements in which 
 the interests of stability and conservation are peculiarly 
 strong ? Undoubtedly not : you would commit the interests 
 of activity and progress to the care of their natural and wil- 
 ling protectors, and you would do well. But all these va- 
 rious interests have equal wants and equal claims. There 
 is no safety for any of them but in its appropriate power ; 
 that is to say, in a power analogous to it in its nature and in 
 its relations to other powers. If the interests of stability and 
 conservation are committed wholly to the chances of the 
 composition of a single elective assembly, invested with the 
 sole and final decision of all questions, and to the chances of 
 the discussions in that assembly, be assured that sooner or 
 later, after numerous oscillations between tyrannies of dif- 
 ferent kinds, those interests will be sacrificed or lost. 
 
 It is absurd to seek the principle of the political stability | 
 of government in the mobile elements of society. The per- \ 
 manent elements of society must find in the government J 
 itself, powers corresponding to them, and offering a pledge 
 for their security. A diversity of powers is equally indis- 
 pensable to conservation and to liberty. 
 
 It is a matter of amazement that this truth should be dis- 
 puted, for the very men who dispute it have made a great 
 step towards its admission and application. After establish- 
 ing unity of power at the head of the state, they have ad- 
 mitted a division of powers lower down, on account of the 
 diversity of functions. They have carefully separated the 
 legislative, executive, administrative, and judicial powers; thus 
 practically acknowledging the necessity of giving guarantees 
 
 V/ 
 
62 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 to different interests, by the separation and the different con- 
 stitution of these powers. How is it that they do not see that 
 this necessity has a higher application, and that the diversity 
 of the general interests of society and of the duties of the 
 supreme power, imperatively requires a diversity of powers 
 in the highest as well as in the subordinate spheres of govern- 
 ment? 
 
 But to constitute a real and efficient diversity of powers, it 
 is not enough that each should have a distinct place and name 
 in the government ; it is also necessary that all should be 
 strongly organized, all fully competent to fill and to maintain 
 the place they occupy. 
 
 It is the fashion of the day to think that harmony among 
 the powers of the state, and security against their excess, is 
 to be found in their weakness. People are afraid of every 
 kind of authority ; and in order to prevent their destroying 
 each other, or encroaching upon liberty, they ingeniously 
 endeavour to undermine them all in turn. 
 
 This is a monstrous error. Every weak power is a 
 power doomed to perish by extinction or by usurpation. If 
 several weak powers conflict, either one will become strong 
 at the expense of the others, and will end in a tyranny, or 
 they will trammel and neutralize each other, and the result 
 will be anarchy. 
 
 What is it that has constituted the strength and success 
 of constitutional monarchy in England ? It is that, while 
 the royalty and aristocracy were originally strong, the com- 
 monalty has become strong by successive conquests of its 
 rights from the aristocracy and the king. Of the three con- 
 
POLITICAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE. 63 s„ / 
 
 stitutional powers, two retain much of their primitive great- ,^^/ 
 ness, and rest firmly on their deep and primeval roots ; the ' 
 third has risen to greatness, and has gradually struck its 
 roots deeply into*the same soil. Each is fully able to defend 
 itself against the other, and to fulfil its peculiar mission. 
 
 When an earnest and sincere attempt was made to es- 
 tablish constitutional monarchy in France, its firmest ad- 
 herents desired an ancient and historical basis for royalty ; 
 for the Chamber of Peers, an hereditary seat in the legis- 
 lature, and for the Chamber of Deputies, direct election : not 
 by any means in obedience to theories or precedents, but in 
 order that the great powers of the state might be true 
 powers, — efficient and living entities, not words or phan- 
 toms. 
 
 In the United States, notwithstanding the difference of 
 names, situations, manners, and institutions, Washington, 
 Hamilton, Jefferson, and Madison, when founding the Re- 
 public, recognized and acted upon the same principles. 
 They too thought it necessary to have different powers at the 
 head of the government ; and in order that the difference 
 might be real, they gave to each of these powers — i. e, the 
 two chambers and the President — a distinct origin ; as dis- 
 tinct as the general institutions of the country would permit, 
 and as diflierent as their several functions. 
 
 Diversity of origin and of nature is one of the conditions 
 essential to the intrinsic and real strength of powers, and this 
 again is the condition indispensable to political harmony and 
 social peace. 
 
 Nor is it only at the summit and centre of government 
 

 
 V 
 
 
 that these principles ought to guide the organization of power ; 
 they are equally applicable through the whole extent of the 
 country, in the management of its local, no less than of its 
 general affairs. A great deal has been saicT in favor of cen- 
 tralization and administrative unity, and there is no doubt that 
 they have rendered great service to France. We shall 
 preserve many of their forms, regulations, maxims, and works ; 
 but the time of their sovereignty is past. Centralization is no 
 longer sufficient for the chief wants and pressing dangers of 
 society. The struggle is no longer confined to the centre ; it 
 agitates the whole nation. Since property, family, and all 
 the bases of society, are attacked every where, they must 
 every where be vigorously defended ; and functionaries or 
 orders which have to travel from the centre of government 
 will be found a very inadequate defence, even though 
 supported by bayonets. Landed proprietors, and heads of 
 families, who are the natural guardians of society, must all 
 be enjoined and empowered to maintain its security by 
 conducting its affairs ; they must have an active share in the 
 management of its local as well as its general interests ; in 
 the administration, as well as the government of the country : 
 the central government ought to uphold the banner of social 
 order, but it cannot bear the whole burden of it unaided. 
 
 I speak always on the presumption that I am speaking to 
 a free country, and of a free government ; for it is under free 
 governments that the safety of society demands all these 
 conditions : they have evidently no application to absolute 
 governments. 
 
 Absolute power is, however, subject to certain conditions. 
 
POLITICAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE. 65 
 
 as well as liberty. It is far from being always possible 
 where it would be submitted to, nor can it be obtained wher- 
 ever it is desired. 
 
 Let the friends of freedom never forget that nations 
 prefer absolute power to anarchy. The first want — the first 
 instinct — of communities, as well as of governments or 
 of individuals, is self-preservation. Now a community may 
 exist under absolute power ; under anarchy, if it lasts, it 
 must perish. 
 
 The readiness, I might almost say the eagerness, with 
 which nations throw their liberties into the gulf of anarchy, 
 in the desperate attempt to close it, is a shameful spectacle. 
 I know nothing more lamentable to witness than this sudden 
 renunciation of all the rights so noisily and vehemently 
 demanded. The friend of freedom and of progress who 
 would fall into despair of man and of the future, at this 
 humiliating sight must withdraw into himself, and refresh 
 and invigorate his soul at those high and pure fountains which 
 nourish deep convictions and far-reaching hopes. 
 
 Let not France, whatever be her peril, reckon on abso- 
 lute power to save her. It would not justify her confidence. 
 In her ancient society, absolute power reposed on a principle 
 of moderation and of permanence ; while, under the Empe- 
 ror Napoleon, it contained a principle of strength, either of 
 which it would vainly seek for now. Popular tyranny or 
 military dictatorship may be the expedient of a day, but can 
 never be a form of government. Free institutions are now 
 as necessary to social peace as they are to individual dignity ; 
 and power, whatever be its nature or origin, whether repub- 
 4* 
 
66 DEMOCRACY IT FRANCE. 
 
 lican or monarchical, has no wiser course to pursue than to 
 learn to use them, for they are now its only instruments 
 and its only stay. 
 
 If some are tempted to seek repose in other sources, let 
 them abandon all such hopes. Whatever be the future des- 
 tiny of France, we shall not escape from the necessity of a 
 constitutional government ; we are condemned, for our own 
 salvation, to surmount all the difficulties, and to fulfil all the 
 conditions, with which it may be encumbered. 
 
 There is but one means of rendering ourselves equal to 
 this mighty task, and of complying with this imperious ne- 
 cessity. All the elements of stability, all the conservative 
 forces in the country must unite closely and act constantly 
 together. It is no more possible to extinguish democracy in 
 the nation than liberty in the government. That immense 
 movement which has been communicated to every country 
 and agitates all their deepest recesses; which is incessantly 
 inciting every class and every individual to think, to desire, 
 to claim, to act, to employ his activity in every direction, — 
 this movement will not be stopped. It is a fact in which we 
 must acquiesce, whether it pleases or displeases us, whether 
 it awakens our fears or excites our hopes. But though we 
 cannot extinguish this movement, we can guide and govern 
 it ; and if it is not guided and governed, it will throw back 
 the whole current of civilization, and will be the oppro- 
 brium as well as the curse of humanity. Democracy, to be 
 guided and governed, must form a considerable ingredient 
 in the state, but it must not be the sole one : it must be 
 strong enough to climb itself, but never to pull down others : 
 
POLITICAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE. 67 
 
 it must find issues, and encounter barriers on every side. 
 Democracy is a fertilizing, but muddy stream, whose waters 
 are never beneficent till the turbid and impetuous current 
 has spread itself abroad and subsided into calmness and 
 purity. 
 
 The Dutch, a great people, though in a small country, 
 whose republican glory shone brightly even amidst the full 
 blaze of the monarchical glory of Louis XIV., conquered 
 their country from the ocean, and maintained their conquest, 
 by cutting canals and raising dikes on every side. It is the 
 ceaseless care of the whole community that the canals be 
 never obstructed and the dikes never broken ; for on this 
 depend the prosperity and the existence of Holland. 
 
 Let all the conservative elements of France learn from 
 this example ; let them unite all their efforts, let them keep 
 a common and incessant watch, that the rising tide of demo- 
 cracy may always find safe channels and indestructible bar- 
 riers. On the joint and efficient action of these depend the 
 safety of the community, and the safety of each individual 
 composing it. If the conservative elements of French society 
 know how to combine and to form a united body, if the party 
 spirit which prevails among them shall give way to a large 
 and enlightened political spirit, then France, and the demo- 
 cracy of France, are saved. If the conservative elements 
 remain disunited and disorganized, Democracy will destroy 
 France, and will perish under the ruins she has made. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MORAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE IN FRANCE. 
 
 The political conditions which I have just specified are in- 
 dispensable to the re-establishment of social peace in France ; 
 but they alone will not suffice. Such a work requires some- 
 thing more than a good organization of powers ; it requires 
 a certain measure of prudence and virtue on the part of the 
 people themselves. It is a gross delusion to believe in the 
 sovereign power of political machinery. The free will of 
 man plays a great part in social affairs, and the success of 
 institutiojis must in the end depend on the men who live un- 
 der them. 
 
 Much has lately been said about Christianity, and the 
 name of Jesus Christ has been frequently introduced into the 
 harangues of demagogues. God forbid that I should suffer 
 my mind to dwell long on these profanations, — this hideous 
 mixture of cynicism and hypocrisy. I shall only suggest 
 one question — If the French nation were sincerely and prac- 
 tically Christian, what would be its conduct in the midst 
 of the terrible difficulties by which it is agitated and per- 
 plexed ? 
 
MORAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE. 69 
 
 The rich and great of the earth would earnestly and per- 
 severingly labor to alleviate the distresses of those beneath 
 them. Their intercourse with the poorer classes would be 
 active, affectionate, morally and physically beneficent. 
 The various sufferings and perils of humanity would call 
 forth corresponding associations, endowments, and works of 
 charity. 
 
 The poor and humble would be submissive to the will of 
 God and the laws of society. They would seek the satisfac- 
 tion of their wants in regular and assiduous labor, the im- 
 provement of their condition in good conduct and provident 
 habits, and consolation and hope in the futurity promised to 
 man. 
 
 These are the Christian virtues — they are called Faith, 
 Hope, and Charity. Is this the conduct men are exhorted 
 by the preachers of Democracy to pursue ? Are these the 
 sentiments which these men, who affect a veneration for the 
 Founder of Christianity, try to rekindle in the hearts of the 
 people ? 
 
 I doubt whether they can carry the impudence of men- 
 dacity so far as to answer in the affirmative ; and if they 
 dared to do so, I am sure that, spite of the credulity of the 
 public, they would receive a universal contradiction. 
 
 But these monstrous attempts, whether the result of fraud 
 or of folly, will not succeed. Christianity will not be disfigured 
 or degraded so. Nothing can be more anti-Christian than 
 the ideas, the language, or the influence of the present race 
 of reformers of social order. If Communism and Socialism 
 prevailed, Christianity must become extinct ; if Christianity 
 
 1 
 
70 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 were more potent, Communism and Socialism would soon 
 sink into the chaotic mass of obscure and forgotten extrava- 
 gances. 
 
 I wish to be perfectly just ; and while attacking notions 
 which are the disgrace and the curse of our times, I would 
 acknowledge whatever germ of morality they contain, and 
 show what virtuous pretexts or benevolent instincts may 
 delude their advocates or seduce their converts. 
 
 There is a sentiment, noble and beautiful in itself, which 
 has been much and often appealed to throughout all the 
 perturbations and convulsions of society in France ; this 
 sentiment is, enthusiasm for mankind — the enthusiasm of 
 confidence, sympathy, and hope. This feeling reigned 
 supreme among us in 1789, and gave its resistless impulse to 
 that epoch. There was no virtue that was not ascribed to 
 man — no success that was not hoped and predicted for him. 
 
 r" Faith and hope in man took the place of faith and hope in 
 
 > God. The trial was not long deferred. The idol did not 
 long retain its power. Confidence was soon convicted of 
 presumption, and sympathy ended in social war and the 
 scaffold. The hopes that were fulfilled appeared insignifi- 
 cant, compared to those that had vanished like dreams. 
 Never did experience advance with such rapid strides to 
 
 ,_^ confront and overthrow pride. 
 
 ^ Yet it is to this same sentiment that our modern reformers 
 
 of social order appeal. It is this same idolatrous enthusiasm 
 for human nature that they invoke. At the same time that 
 they rob man of his sublimest emotions and loftiest prospects, 
 
 I they exalt without measure his nature and his power : rather, 
 
MORAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE. 71 
 
 I ought to say, they miserably degrade them, for they pro- 
 mise him nothing beyond this earth ; but while there, their 
 belief in him is blind and implicit — their hope from him, and 
 for him, boundless. 
 
 The most melancholy reflection is, that this insane idola- 
 try is their only excuse ; the only one of their ideas which 
 springs from a source of the smallest elevation, or possesses 
 the smallest moral value. If they had not a blind faith in 
 man, and a servile adoration of humanity, they would be 
 nothing more than the propagators of a rapacious, brutish, 
 and lawless materialism. 
 
 " If man exalteth himself," says Pascal, " I abase him ; 
 J if he abaseth himself, I exalt him." We ought continually 
 to bear in mind and to apply these admirable words. Cer- 
 tainly man is a being worthy to inspire us with respect and 
 love, and with high hopes of his future condition. To those 
 who were insensible to the nobleness of his nature and his 
 destiny — to himself, if he forgot it — I should say with Pascal, 
 " If man abaseth himself, I exalt him." But to those who 
 promise themselves every thing from him, by promising him 
 every thing ; whose expectations from him are as boundless 
 as those they labor to excite in him ; to those who, goaded 
 by their own pride, are constantly striving to inflate his 
 pride ; who forget, and try to make him forget, the frailty 
 and wretchedness of his nature, the supreme laws by which 
 he is bound, and the support of which he stands in need, — to 
 those men I would say with Pascal, " If man exalteth him- 
 self, I abase him." And facts, — recent, glaring, incontro- 
 vertible facts, — say it far more impressively than I. 
 
 ] 
 
72 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 It is impossible to restore France to the state of things 
 which prevailed in 1789 — to rekindle that enthusiasm of 
 presumptuous confidence and hope with which the nation 
 was then drunk — an enthusiasm which then was genuine as 
 well as general, had the ardor and spontaneity of youth, and 
 was rendered excusable by inexperience, but which now 
 would be only a false and factitious excitement ; a thin, an 
 ineffectual veil thrown over bad passions and insane dreams. 
 By what incurable arrogance could we reject the lessons 
 which God has lavished upon us for the last sixty years ? 
 He does not require of us to despair of ourselves and of our 
 species, to abandon all efforts for its progress, or to shut our 
 hearts against a tender sympathy in its weal or woe ; but He 
 does forbid us to exalt our own nature into an idol. He com- 
 mands us to see it as it is ; without illusion and without cold- 
 ness ; and to love and serve it according to the laws He has 
 established. I have certainly no desire to extinguish any of 
 the small portion of moral ardor still remaining in the world, 
 nor to infuse additional doubt and indifference into hearts al- 
 ready so lukewarm and uncertain. But neither can I add 
 to their delusions. It is not by retracing its course toward 
 the sources of the revolution, that France will walk with a 
 firm and animated step : those fountains are all dry, and our 
 generation will not go to slake its thirst or refresh its spirit at 
 them. You complain of its languor; you want to see the 
 faith and the moral energy, which are the soul and strength 
 of nations, revive among us : but it is vain to seek them in the 
 revolutionary spirit, which is wholly incapable of inspiring 
 them. It is a fire which has still power to consume, but can 
 
MORAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE. 73 
 
 neither warm nor enlighten. Instead of reviving and invi- 
 gorating our belief in the great truths which are the whole- 
 some stimulants as well as the true guardians of society, 
 they can only diffuse doubt and perplexity. Certainly France 
 wants to be morally elevated and strengthened ; she wants to 
 regain her faith in, and attachment to, fixed and undisputed 
 principles. But the revolutionary spirit can do nothing to 
 appease these wants ; the scenes and the harangues, the pre- 
 dictions and the recollections which it suggests, can only re- 
 tard the work. The honor of its accomplishment is reserved 
 for other moral powers and other intellectual tendencies. 
 
 Among the foremost, are the domestic sentiments and 
 morals. The Family is now, more than ever, the first ele- 
 ment and the last rampart of society. Whilst, in general 
 society, every thing becomes more and more mobile, person- 
 al, and transient, it is in domestic life that the demand for 
 permanency, and the feeling of the necessity of sacrificing 
 the present to the future, are indestructible. It is in domes- 
 tic life that the ideas and the virtues which form a counter- 
 poise to the excessive and ungoverned movement excited in 
 the great centres of civilization, are formed. The tumult of 
 business and pleasure, temptation and strife which reigns in 
 our great cities, would soon throw the whole of society into 
 a deplorable state of ferment and dissolution, if domestic life, 
 with its calm activity, its permanent interests, and its fixed 
 property, did not oppose solid barriers throughout the coun- 
 try to the restless waves of this stormy sea. It is in the bo- 
 som of domestic life, and under its influences, tliat private, 
 the basis of public, morality is most securely maintained. 
 
74 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 There too, and in our days there almost exclusively, the 
 affections of our nature, — friendship, gratitude, and self- 
 devotion, — all the ties which unite hearts in the sense of a 
 common destiny, grow and flourish. The time has been 
 when, under other forms of society, these private affections 
 found a place in public life ; when devoted attachments 
 strengthened political connections. These times are past, 
 never to return. In the vast and complicated and ever- 
 moving society of our days, general interests and principles, 
 the sentiments of the masses, and the combinations of parties, 
 have the entire possession and direction of public life. The 
 private affections are ties too delicate to exercise any power- 
 ful influence over the conflicts of that pitiless field. But it is 
 never without serious injury that one of the vital elements of, 
 human nature is uprooted out of any of the fields of human 
 action ; and the complete absence of tender and faithful at- 
 tachments in that almost exclusive domain of abstract ideas 
 ' 5^«HUr^nd general or selfish interests, has robbed political life of a 
 ^.y noble ornament and a great source of strength. It is of in- 
 ^ rf calculable importance to society that there should be some 
 p" safe retreat in which the affectionate dispositions — I would al- 
 ^ most say passions— of the heart of man may expand in free- 
 dom ; and that, occasionally emerging from that retreat, they 
 may exhibt their presence and their power by some beautiful 
 examples in that tumultuous region of politics in which they 
 are so rarely found. But these social virtues must be nursed 
 in the bosom of domestic life ; these social affections must 
 spring from family affections. Home, the abode of stability 
 and morality, also contains the hearth at which all our affec- 
 
 >UM. 
 
MORAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE. 75 
 
 tions and all our self-devotion are kindled ; it is in the circle 
 of the Family that the noblest parts of our nature find satis- 
 factions they would seek for else in vain ; it is from that cir- 
 cle that, when circumstances demand, they can go forth to 
 adorn and bless society. 
 
 Next to the spirit of family, the political spirit is that 
 from which France has now the greatest services to expect, 
 and which she ought to foster with the greatest care. The 
 political spirit shows itself in the will and the power to take 
 a regular and active part in public affairs, without employ- 
 ment of violence or risk of disturbance. The greater the 
 spread and cultivation of the political spirit, the more does it 
 teach men the necessity and the habit of seeing things as 
 they are in their exact and naked truth. To see, not what 
 exists, but what they wish ; to indulge complacently in 
 illusions about facts, as if facts would, with equal com- 
 placency, take the form that they desire, — is the radical and 
 characteristic weakness^of men slill new to political life, and 
 the source of their most fatal errors. To see things as they 
 are, is the first and very excellent fruit of the political 
 spirit, and gives birth to another not less excellent, viz. — 
 that, by learning to see only what is, we learn to desire only 
 what is possible ; the exact appreciation of facts begets 
 moderation in designs and pretensions. The political spirit, 
 true and sincere to itself, becomes prudent and reasonable 
 towards others. Nothing inclines men more to moderation 
 than a full knowledge of the truth ; for it is rarely that she 
 throws all her weight into one scale. The political spirit is 
 thus naturally led by prudence, if by no higher morality, to 
 
76 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 that respect for rights which is not only its fundamental 
 law and essential merit, but the sole basis of social stability; 
 ^ ' since, where law ceases, nothing remains but force, which is 
 ^essentially variable and precarious. The respect for rights 
 supposes, or produces, the respect for law, the habitual 
 source of rights. The real and the possible, rights and law, 
 such are the subjects upon which the political spirit is con- 
 stantly exercised, and which become the habitual objects of 
 its inquiry and its veneration. It thus maintains, or re- 
 establishes, a moral principle of fixity in the relations of 
 individuals, and a moral principle of authority in those of 
 the state. 
 
 The more the value for family ties shall increase at the 
 expense of the selfishness of an isolated existence, and the 
 more the political shall gain upon the revolutionary spirit, 
 the more tranquil will the society of France become, and 
 the more firmly will it rest upon its foundations. 
 
 Nevertheless, neither the domestic nor the political spirit 
 would suffice for the task. They need the assistance of 
 another and a higher spirit, whose influence penetrates more 
 deeply than they can do into the human soul. It is peculiar 
 to religion that she has a language for every individual ; a 
 language which all can understand, the high as well as the 
 humble, the happy as well as the unhappy ; and that she 
 ascends or descends, without an effort, into every rank and 
 region of society. And it is one of the admirable features of 
 the constitution of the Christian church, that her ministers 
 are not only scattered over, but form an integral part of, the 
 whole of society ; living as near to the cottage as the palace ; 
 
MORAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE. 77 
 
 in habitual and intimate intercourse with the highest and the 
 lowest ; equally the monitors of greatness and the consolers 
 of misery. This tutelary power, spite of the abuses and the 
 faults into which it has been led by its very force and extent, 
 has for ages exercised a more vigilant and energetic control 
 over the moral dignity and the dearest interests of man, than 
 any other. Nobody would be so averse as I should, for the 
 sake of religion herself, to see a revival of the abuses by 
 which she has been disfigured or corrupted ; but I confess 
 that I do not fear this at the present day. The principles of 
 lay supremacy and freedom of thought have definitively 
 triumphed in modern society : they may still have some ene- 
 mies to repel, and some conflicts to sustain, but their victory 
 is certain ; they have in their favor the prevailing institu- 
 tions, manners, opinions, and passions ; and that general and 
 overwhelming current of ideas and events which flows on 
 through all diversities, obstacles, and perils, in the same 
 direction, at Rome, Madrid, Turin, Berlin, and Vienna, no 
 less than at London or Paris. For modern society to fear 
 religion, or to dispute her influence with acrimony, would 
 therefore be a puerile alarm and a fatal error. You are sur- 
 rounded by an immense and excited multitude ; you com- 
 plain that you want means to act upon it, to enlighten, direct, 
 control, and tranquillize it ; that you have little intercourse 
 with these men, save through the tax-gatherer and the police- 
 man ; that they are given over, without defence, to the in- 
 flammatory declamations of charlatans and demagogues, and 
 to the blind violence of their own passions. Dispersed among 
 them, you have men whose express mission and constant 
 
78 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 occupation it is to guide their faith, to console their distresses, 
 to show them their duties, to awaken and elevate their hopes, 
 to exercise over them that moral influence which you vainly 
 seek elsewhere. And would you not second these men in 
 their work, when they can second you so powerfully in 
 yours, precisely in those obscure inclosures where you so 
 rarely penetrate, and where the enemies of social order enter 
 continually, and sap all their foundations ? 
 
 There is, it is true, a condition attached to the favor 
 and the political efficacy of the religious spirit ; it demands 
 sincere respect, and liberty. I will even confess that the 
 fears and desires of the religious party often render them 
 unjust, captious, suspicious, rancorous, and exacting; that 
 they sometimes fall into the vortex of those false anarchical 
 and chimerical ideas which it is their peculiar vocation to 
 combat. I will make as large concessions as can be re- 
 quired, as to the injustice you must expect to submit to, and 
 the precautions you will have to take ; yet I shall say at 
 the conclusion, as I said at the beginning. Do not hold up 
 acrimonious disputes with religion ; do not fear her in- 
 fluences ; allow them space and liberty to expand and to 
 act in the largest and most powerful manner. On the 
 whole, they will certainly be more in favor of tranquillity 
 than of strife, and will assist more than they will embarrass 
 you. 
 
 If we were under that proximate necessity of acting, 
 which affords a light indispensable to those who want to do 
 more than lay down general principles of action, it would be 
 our business to inquire by what practical means, by what 
 
MORAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE. 79 
 
 positive institutions or laws, the domestic, the political, and 
 the religious spirit might be duly strengthened and developed 
 in our country. At present I shall only add one word. 
 We cannot treat with great moral forces as if they were 
 mercenary and suspected auxiliaries. They exist by 
 themselves, with their natural merits and defects, their 
 unavoidable benefits and dangers. We must accept them, 
 such as they are ; without pretending to be either their 
 slaves or their tyrants, without giving up every thing 
 to them, but also without trying to withhold their just 
 portion. The religious, the domestic, and the political 
 spirit are more than ever beneficent, more than ever ne- 
 cessary in our society. Neither social tranquillity, nor 
 stability, nor order can dispense with their co-opera- 
 tion. Seek then that co-operation with sincerity; receive 
 it with a good grace, and resign yourselves to pay the price 
 of it. 
 
 Societies, no more than individuals, are exempted 
 from the necessity of purchasing advantages by efforts and 
 sacrifices. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Let not France deceive herself. Not all the experiments 
 she may try, not all the revolutions she may make, or suffer 
 to be made, will ever emancipate her from the necessary and 
 inevitable conditions of social tranquillity and good govern- 
 ment. She may refuse to admit them, and may suffer 
 without measure or limit from her refusal, but she cannot 
 escape from them. 
 
 We have tried every thing : — Republic — Empire — Con- 
 stitutional Monarchy. We are beginning our experiments 
 anew. To what must we ascribe their ill success ? In our 
 own times, before our own eyes, in three of the greatest 
 nations in the world, these three same forms of government — 
 Constitutional Monarchy in England, the Empire in Russia, 
 and the Republic in North America — endure and prosper. 
 Have we the monopoly of all impossibilities ? 
 
 Yes ; so long as we remain in the chaos in which we are 
 plunged, in the name, and by the slavish idolatry, of Democ- 
 racy ; so long as we can see nothing in society but Democ- 
 
CONCLUSION. 81 
 
 racy, as if that were its sole ingredient ; so long as we seek 
 in government nothing but the domination of Democracy, as 
 if that alone had the right and power to govern. 
 
 On these terms the Republic is equally impossible as the 
 Constitutional Monarchy, and the Empire, as the Republic ; 
 for all regular and stable government is impossible. 
 
 And liberty— legal and energetic liberty4-is no less im^\^ 
 possible than stable and regular government. 
 
 The world has seen great and illustrious communities 
 reduced to this deplorable condition ; incapable of supporting 
 any legal and energetic liberty, or any regular and stable 
 government ; condemned to interminable and sterile political 
 oscillations, from the various shades and forms of anarchy to 
 the equally various forms of despotism. For a heart capable 
 of any feeling of pride or dignity, I cannot conceive a more 
 cruel suffering than to be born in such an age. Nothing 
 remains but to retire to the sanctuary of domestic life, and 
 the prospects of religion. The joys and the sacrifices, the 
 labors and the glories of public life exist no more. 
 
 Such is not, God be praised, the state of France ; such 
 will not be the closing scene of her long and glorious career 
 of civilization, — of all her exertions, conquests, hopes, and 
 sufferings. France is full of life and vigor. She has not 
 mounted so high, to descend in the name of equality to so low 
 a level. She possesses the elements of a good political 
 organization. She has numerous classes of citizens, enlight- 
 ened and respected, already accustomed to manage the 
 business of their country, or prepared to undertake it. Her 
 soil is covered with an industrious and intelligent population, 
 4 
 
82 DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE. 
 
 who detest anarchy, and ask only to live and to labor in peace. 
 There is an abundance of virtue in the bosoms of her families, 
 and of good feeling in the hearts of her sons. We have 
 wherewithal to struggle against the evil that devours us. 
 But the evil is immense. There are no words wherein to 
 describe, no measure wherewith to measure it. The 
 suffering and the shame it inflicts upon us are slight, 
 compared to those it prepares for us if it endures. And who 
 will say that it cannot endure, when all the passions of the 
 wicked, all the extravagancies of the mad, all the weaknesses 
 of the good, concur to foment it ? Let all the sane forces of 
 France then unite to combat it. They will not be too many, 
 and they must not wait till it is too late. Their united 
 strength will more than once bend under the weight of their 
 work, and France, ere she can be saved, will still need to 
 pray that God would protect her. 
 
 THE END. 
 
1 
 
 DEUX PREFACES DE M. GUIZOT. 
 
 Ainsi qu'on a pu le voir dans notre correspondance (Courrier du 
 d3 courant), M. Guizot vient de faire paraitre, a Paris, sous le litre de 
 Monk et WAftHiNOTON, deux volumes, qui ont cause une certaine sen- 
 sation. Ces livres ne sent pas nouveaux cependant : I'un n'est rien autre 
 chose que I'introduction qu'il a ecrite, il y a quelques mois, pour une 
 Edition nouvelle de son Histoire de la Rivolution (V Angleterre ; I'autre 
 eat tout bonnement I'etude biographique dont il a fait preceder, il y a 
 quelque part huit ou dix an», la traduction des lettres choisieg de 
 Washington, d'apres la grande edition americaine de Jared Sparks. 
 Mais M. Guizot a eu soin de rendre a ces ceuvres de son passe une 
 actualite plus ou raoins piquante, en les renfor9ant de prefaces inspirees 
 par les circonstaiaces actuelles. Dans I'un, il apprecie le loyal fondateur 
 d'une Republique:; dans I'autre, I'astucieux restaurateur d'une monar- 
 chie, 11 y ajoute Haturellement un examen de la situation de la France, 
 des considerationa sur le pa.83e et sur I'avenir, et des allusions qui, de la 
 part d'un ami de I'ordre, auraient pu etre moins blessantes. 
 
 Quelques journaux du parti de I'ordre se sont emus de cette espece 
 de manifestation, qui est une atteinte portee a la paix conclue tacite- 
 ment entre les hommes politiques appartenant aux diverses nuances de 
 ee parti, t Comment se fait-il, dit la Patrie, que M. Guizot quitte sa 
 retraite, et rompe le silence pour introduire sur une scene, dont le rideau 
 doit etre baisse en ce moment, deux nouveaux personnages de carac- 
 teres opposes, et creer, en quelque sorte, une peripetie au milieu d'un 
 •ntr'acte ? s 
 
 - Nous ne pensons pas, quoi qu'en dise la Patrie, quo ces opuscules de 
 M. Guizot soient da nature a creer la moindre peripetie, a jeter la 
 moindre perturbation dans les esprits ; mais I'opinion d'un homme qui a 
 eu tant d'influence sur nos de&tinees, ne saurait etre sans importance, et 
 nos lect«urs pouvant desirer la connaitre, nous avons cru devoir repro- 
 duire les deux prefacf 
 
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 1 
 
WORKS BY M. MICHELET. 
 
 Published by D. Appleton S^ Co., 200 Broadway 
 
 HISTORY OF FRANCE, 
 
 FROM THE EARLIEST PERIOD. 
 TRANSLATED BY G. H. SMITH, F. G. S. 
 
 Two handsome 8vo, volumes. $ 3 50. 
 
 " So frrapliic, so life-like, so dramatic a historian as Michelet, we know noi wliijr* 
 fl-f to ji'ok fur. Tlie countries, tho races of men, tlie times, pass vividly bufuro you 
 IS you peruse iiia animated pages, virhere we find notiiing of diffuseness or irreloviui 
 !y. It is !i masterly work, and the publishers are doing the reading public a servic 
 &y producing it in so unexceptionable and cheap an edition." — Tribune. 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 OP THE 
 
 ROMAN REPUBLIC. 
 
 One handsome l2mo. volume. Paper cover 75 cts. Cloth $1. 
 
 " M. Michelet, in his Hiiitory of the Roman Republic, first introduces the readoi 
 to the Ancient Geogra[)hy of Italy ; then by giving an excellent picture of tlie present 
 state of Rome and the surrounding country, full of grand ruins, he excites in the 
 reader the desire to investigate the ancient history of this wonderful land. He next 
 imparts the results of the latest investigations, entire, deeply studied and clearly 
 arranged, and saves the u leducated reader tlie trouble of investigating the sources, 
 while he givfs to the more educated mind an impetus to study the literature from 
 which he gives very accurate quotations in his notes. He describes the peculiaritiei 
 anfi the life of tho Roman people in a masterly manner, and he fascinates every 
 reader, by the brilliant clearness and vivid freshness of his style, while he shows 
 himself a good historian, by the justness and impartiality with which he relates and 
 philosophizes" 
 
 THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 MARTIN LUTHER, 
 
 GATHERED FROM HIS OWN WRITINGS 
 
 By M. Michelet: translated by G. H. Smith, F. G. S. 
 
 One handsome volume, 12mo. Cloth 75 cts.. Paper cover 50 cts. 
 
 ■''his work is not an historical romance, founded on the life of Martin Luther, 
 i.-^ is it a history of the establishment of Luthoranism. It is simply a biography, 
 t/^mposed of a series of translations. Excepting that jiortion of it which has refer- 
 eE>«e to his childhood, and which Luther himself has left undescribed, the translator 
 "i&a rarely found occasion to make his own appearance on the scene. ***** 
 It is almost JTivariably Luther himself who speaks, almost invariably Luther related 
 by Luther. — Kxtrtut from M. MicheltCs Preface. 
 
 THE PEOPLE. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY G. H. SMITH, F. G. S. 
 
 On; neat volume, l2mo. Cloth 62 cts.. Paper cover 38 cts. 
 
 " This boei ii more than a book ; it is myself, therefore it belongs to you. * * 
 Reeoive thou t.iis book of " The People," because it is you — because it is L * * 
 . have made this book out of myself, out of my life, and out of my heart. I hav« 
 derived it from my observation, from my relations of friendship and of neighborhood j 
 lave picked it up upon the roads. Chance loves to favor those who follow out one 
 contiruous idea. Above all, I have found it in the recollections of my youth. To 
 know tho life of the people, their labor and their sufferings, I had but to interrogate 
 luT memory, — Extract frun Authinr''a Preface. 
 
STANDARD HISTORICAL WORKS. 
 
 Published by D. Aypleton ^ Co 
 THE HISTORY OF ROME, 
 
 FROM THE EARLIEST PERIOD. 
 
 BY THOMAS ARNOLD, D. D., 
 Late Head Maste. of Rugby School, and Regius Professor of History in the University oi 
 
 Oxford. 
 
 The th'"eo volumes of the last London edition reprinted entire in two handsome 8vo 
 
 volumes. Price §5. 
 
 " This is the last and unquestionably the best History of Rome. It is best not merely 
 
 because it is the last, but because of the vigorous intellect, and philosophic spirit, which 
 
 liave been devoted to the work. * * * * In his views of history, he admired and 
 
 professedly imitated Niebuhr ; yet while he adopted many of the theories, and followed 
 
 m the footsteps of that great master of historical philosopliy, he was not a copyist, nor 8 
 
 mere compiler, for his own work is replete with spirit and originality." — Cincinnati Jitiaa 
 
 HISTORY OF 
 
 THE LATER ROMAN COMMONWEALTH, 
 
 BY THOMAS ARNOLD, D. D. 
 Two volumes of the English edition, in one handsome 8vo. volume. $2 50. 
 This work forms an essential accompaniment to the two volumes of the Early History 
 just published ; it brings the History down to the period of the final establishment of th« 
 Empire under Augustus. 
 
 LECTURES ON MODERN HISTORY, 
 
 BY THOMAS ARNOLD, D. D. 
 
 With an Introduction and Notes, by Henry Reed, Professor of English Literature \m 
 
 the University of Pennsylvania. 
 
 One handsome volume, 12mo. $1 25. 
 
 *' A better work than this, whether its intellectual or moral character be regarded, it 
 
 •eldom falls to the lot of an editor to notice." — Cincinnati JMoming Herald. 
 
 " It is a book which will please the reader who seeks to gratify a literaiy taste, or love 
 of reading ; and it furnishes a bountilul re{)ast for the more intellectual, in the demands 
 upon thought, which it constantly presents." — Banner of the Cross. 
 
 '" We commend it with great "pleasure to all students of history, and to the lovers of 
 education generally. — Savannah Republican. 
 
 A MANUAL OF ANCIENT AND MODERN HISTORY, 
 
 BY W. COOKE TAYLOR, LL. D., 
 Of Trinity College, Dublin. 
 
 REVISED, WITH ADDITIONS ON AMERICAN HISTORY, 
 
 BY C. S. HENRY, D. D., 
 
 Professor of History in the University of JVew- York. 
 
 One handsome volume, 8vo., of 800 pages. $2 25. 
 
 5^ For convenience as a Class-book, the Ancient or Modern portion can be hao 
 
 separately. 
 
 '* To the million who have neither the leisure nor the means of an extensive reading 
 
 of history, this must prove a welcome book. It bears on every page the impress of clo»« 
 
 thought and extensive research." — Tribune. 
 
 " For a Text Book for Colleges and Academies, and for domestic use, it is the b«l 
 work yet issued," — Eve. Mirror. 
 
 HISTORY OF GERMANY, 
 
 FROM THE EARLIEST PERIOD TO THE PRESENT TIME. 
 
 BY FREDERICK KOHLRAUSCH, 
 Chitsf of the Board of Education for the Kingdom of Hanover, and late Profeator •/ 
 History in the Polytechnic School. 
 Translated from the last German edition, by James D. Haas. 
 Complete in one elegant 8vo. volume, of 500 pages, with complete Index, bound ia 
 cloth, $1 50. 
 " lU merits are conciseness, clearness, and accuracy." — JVcw Orleans Bee, 
 " It satisfactorily supplies a vacancy which confessedly existed in Enghsh literatar» 
 •nd will prove a valuable and permanent addition to the historical department of o«l 
 Uwaries.'^ — Southern Churchman. 
 
LORD MAHON'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 D. Appleton tf* Company have just published, 
 
 HISTORY OF ENGLAND, 
 
 FROM 
 
 THE PEACE OF UTRECHT TO THE PEACE OF PARIS. 
 BY LORD MAHON. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 HENRY REED, LL.D., 
 
 Prof of English Literature in the University of Pennsylvania. 
 
 Two handsome 8vo. volumes. Price $5. 
 
 Mr, Macaulay's Opinion. 
 
 " Lord Mahon has undoubtedly some of the most valuable qualities of a historian — 
 great diligence in examining authorities, great judgment in weighing testimony, and great 
 impartiality in estimating characters." 
 
 Quarterly Review. 
 
 " Lord Mahon has shown throughout, excellent skill in combining, as well as con- 
 trasting, the various elements of interest which his materials afforded ; he has continued 
 to draw his historical portraits with the same firm and easy hand ; and no one can lay 
 down the book without feeling that he has been under the guidance of a singularly clear, 
 high- principled, and humane mind ; one uniting a very searching shrewdness with a 
 pure and unatfected charity. He has shown equal courage, judgment, and taste, in 
 availing himself of minute details, so as to give his narrative the picturesqueness of a 
 
 memoir, without sacrificing one jot of the real dignity of history His History is 
 
 well calculated to temper the political judgment. It is one great lesson of modesty, for- 
 bearance, and charity." 
 
 Edinburffh Review. 
 
 ' ' It was with no small satisfaction that we saw a history of this period announced 
 from the pen of Lord Mahon, nor have we been disappointed in our expectations. His 
 narrative is minute and circumstantial, without being tedious. His History of the Re- 
 bellion in particular is clear, distinct, and entertaining. In his judgment of persons he is 
 on tlie whole fair, candid, and discriminating." 
 
 English Review. 
 
 " Lord Mahon 's work will supply a desideratum which has long been felt — a really 
 good history of the last 150 years. It is written with an ease of style, a command of the 
 subject, and a comprehensiveness of view, which evince the possession of high qualifica- 
 tions for the great task which, the noble author has proposed to himself. Lord Mahon 
 avails himself extensively of the correspondence and private diaries of the times, which 
 
 gives unusual interest and life to the narrative The authorities quoted for 
 
 Spanish or French details are always the original ; and we can hardly remember a refer- 
 ence of his Lordship's on any subject which is not to the best testimony known or 
 accessible.' ' 
 
 Sismondi — Histoire des Francais. 
 
 " Sur le Prince Charles Edouard, en 1745 — nous renvoyons uniquement 6. 1'admirable 
 r6cit de cette expedition dans 1' Histoire de Lord Mahon. Toutes les relations y sont 
 compar6es etjugees avec unesaine critique, et le recit presente le vif inter6t d'un roman." 
 
 Professor Smyth — University of Cambridge. 
 " I may recommend to others, what I have just had so much pleasure in reading my- 
 self, the History lately published by Lord Mahon. All that need now be known of the 
 era from the Peace of Utrecht to that of Aix-la-Chapelle, will be there found." 
 
D. Appleton ^ Co.'s Educational Puhhcanons. 
 
 OLLENDORFF'S NEW METHOD OF 
 
 LEARNING TO READ, WRITE, AND SPEAK THE 
 
 GERMAN LANGUAGE. 
 
 Reprinted from the Frankfort edition, to which is added a Systematic Outline of tho 
 dilferent Parts of Speecli, their Inflection and Use, with full Paradigms, and a complete 
 list af the Irregular Verbs. By George J. Adler, A. B., of the University of the l^ity of 
 Nc IV- York. One handsome 12mo. volume. $1,50. 
 
 In a separate volume, uniform with the Grammar, 
 A KEY TO THE EXERCISES. 
 
 Price 75 cents. 
 
 OLLENDORFF'S NEW METHOD OF 
 
 LEARNING TO READ, WRITE, AND SPEAK THE 
 
 FRENCH LANGUAGE. 
 
 With an Appendix, containing the Cardinal and Ordinal Numbers, and full Para- 
 digms of the Regular and Irregular, Auxiliary. Reflective, and Impersonal Verbs. By 
 J. L. Jewett. One volume, 12nio. $1,00. 
 
 A KEY TO THE EXERCISES, in a separate Volume. Price 75 cents. 
 
 OLLENDORFF'S NEW METHOD 
 
 OF 
 
 LEARNING TO READ, WRITE, AND SPEAK THE 
 ITALIAN LANGUAGE. 
 
 With Additions and Coirections, by Felix Foresti. Professor of the Italian Language ia 
 Columbia College, New-York City. One volume, 12mo. $1,50. 
 
 A KEY TO THE EXERCISES, in a separate Volume. Price 75 cents. 
 PREPARING FOR PUBLICATION. 
 
 OLLENDORFF'S NEW METHOD 
 
 OF 
 
 LEARNING TO READ, WRITE, AND SPEAK THE 
 
 SPANISH LANGUAGE. 
 
 One Volume, 12mo. 
 
 The plan of this work is substantially the same with that of the French, German, and 
 .talian Grammars of Professor Ollendorff. It consists of a series of lessons, so arranged 
 as gradually to eliminate every idiom and construction of the languaffe, and to impart to 
 the scholar a thorough knowledge of both its theory and practice. When it is considered 
 <hat Ollendorff's works have taken the precedence, both in Europe and the United States, 
 in the well-cultivated fields of French and German philology, those who are acauainteil 
 with the peculiarly defective and insufficient character of elementary treatises on tha 
 Soanish language, will at once appreciate the importance and utility of the pr«seot work 
 
BOOKS FOU F/VMILY HEADING, 
 
 Published by D. App/eion <jr Company. 
 
 MRS. ELLIS^S NEW WORKS. 
 I. 
 
 SOCIAL DISTINCTIONS ; OR, HEARTS AND HOMES. 
 
 By Mrs. Ellis, Author of " The Women of England," &c. Now pubhshing in parts. 
 Price 124 cents each. 
 
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 port ance." 
 
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 PREVENTION BETTER THAN CURE ; 
 
 OR, THE MORAL WANTS OF THE WORLD WE LIVE IN. 
 
 By Mrs. Ellis. 1 vol. ]2mo. Price 50 cts. paper cover, 75 cts. cloth. 
 " We can safely recommend the book to mothers and daughters who would prize useful liinta 
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 MISS M'INTOSH'S ¥ORKS. 
 
 I. 
 
 CHARMS AND COUNTER-CHARMS. 
 
 By Maria J. M'Intosh, Author of " CoiH[uest and Self Conquest," " Praise and Prin- 
 ciple," &c. Complete in one handsome volume, 12mo., cloth $1 ; or in two parts, paper, 75 cts. 
 
 This work will be found one of the most impressive and beautiful tales of the day. The 
 moral is felicitously developed, and is true in thought and feeling. 
 
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 TWO LIVES ; OR, TO SEEM AND TO BE. 
 
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 Churchman. 
 
 111. 
 
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 This volume contains the following interesting stories: " Blind Alice," " Jessie Graham, ' 
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 MISS SEWELL'S WORKS. 
 
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