liberty with order, the one great need is the destruction
or suppression of the revolutionary spirit, to which
end a strong government of whatever kind is the first
requisite, and some form of Napoleonism the most available,
it being improbable that the nation would accept permanently
anything better. Such is the view of Professor
Adams, one with which all readers have long been familiar,
but which most independent thinkers have come to reject
as shallow and false. However obscure the issue,
however doubtful the solution, it cannot but be apparent
to all who, casting aside prejudices, have studied
the history of France in its entirety and recognized
its special character, that its course during the period
in question exhibits no mere series of lawless oscillations,
but a process of development, often checked and retarded,
often prematurely hastened, but passing from stage
to stage without suffering itself to be stifled by
factitious aid or crushed by arbitrary repression.
What underlies the history of these events, what distinguishes
it from the galvanic agitations of the torpid Spanish
populations in Europe and America, is the constant
presence and activity of ideas, shaping and shaped
by events, hardened or fused by conflict, and preserving
through all vicissitudes and convulsions the incomparable
vitality of the nation. France, more than any
other country, is to be studied as a living spirit,
not as an inert mass, and in a study of this kind the
mechanico-philosophical method will not carry us far.
It does not appear to strike Professor Adams as singular
that a nation “abandoned for the last eighty
years to the domination of Siva, the fierce god of
destruction,” should have all this while been
cutting a somewhat respectable figure in literature,
science and the arts, and during most of that period
paid its way in the solid and shining metal considered
by our rulers to have merely a mythical significance.
Or rather he seems to contend that civilization has
in fact perished in France, that as “such a
tendency to turbulence is destructive of all healthy
national growth,” the inevitable result has
ensued. He admits that there are still some good
scholars in France, but he proves—need we
add, by statistics?—that the illiteracy
of the masses is greater than it was under the ancien
regime, if not in the reign of Clovis. The
controlling influence of Paris is shown, of course,
to have been a prime source of mischief, and we are
asked to “imagine the United States withdrawing
from all interest in political affairs, and saying
to New York City, ‘Govern us as you please:
we do not care to interfere.’” The fact,
as most people are aware, is not at all as here assumed;
but that aside, is it possible that Professor Adams
knows so little of the difference in the origin and
structure of the two nations as not to perceive that
the comparison is ridiculous?
Books Received.
Social Life in Greece, from Homer to Menander.
By Rev. J.P. Mahaffy, M.A.
London: MacMillan & Co.