Yet France has had her fearful troubles, as Sir Erskine May justly says.  She suffers too, he adds, from demoralization and intellectual stoppage.  Let us admit, if he likes, this to be true also.  His error is that he attributes all this to equality.  Equality, as we have seen, has brought France to a really admirable and enviable pitch of humanization in one important line.  And this, the work of equality, is so much a good in Sir Erskine May’s eyes, that he has mistaken it for the whole of which it is a part, frankly identifies it with civilization, and is inclined to pronounce France the most civilized of nations.

But we have seen how much goes to full humanization, to true civilization, besides the power of social life and manners.  There is the power of conduct, the power of intellect and knowledge, the power of beauty.  The power of conduct is the greatest of all.  And without in the least wishing to preach, I must observe, as a mere matter of natural fact and experience, that for the power of conduct France has never had anything like the same sense which she has had for the power of social life and manners.  Michelet,[468] himself a Frenchman, gives us the reason why the Reformation did not succeed in France.  It did not succeed, he says, because la France ne voulait pas de reforme morale—­ moral reform France would not have; and the Reformation was above all a moral movement.  The sense in France for the power of conduct has not greatly deepened, I think, since.  The sense for the power of intellect and knowledge has not been adequate either.  The sense for beauty has not been adequate.  Intelligence and beauty have been, in general, but so far reached, as they can be and are reached by men who, of the elements of perfect humanization, lay thorough hold upon one only,—­the power of social intercourse and manners.  I speak of France in general; she has had, and she has, individuals who stand out and who form exceptions.  Well, then, if a nation laying no sufficient hold upon the powers of beauty and knowledge, and a most failing and feeble hold upon the power of conduct, comes to demoralization and intellectual stoppage and fearful troubles, we need not be inordinately surprised.  What we should rather marvel at is the healing and bountiful operation of Nature, whereby the laying firm hold on one real element in our humanization has had for France results so beneficent.

And thus, when Sir Erskine May gets bewildered between France’s equality and fearful troubles on the one hand, and the civilization of France on the other, let us suggest to him that perhaps he is bewildered by his data because he combines them ill.  France has not exemplary disaster and ruin as the fruits of equality, and at the same time, and independently of this, an exemplary civilization.  She has a large measure of happiness and success as the fruits of equality, and she has a very large measure of dangers and troubles as the fruits of something else.