could again be placed under the feudal system, as that our globe could be overrun by Mammoths.  The revolution in the laws and in the form of government was but an outward sign of that mightier revolution which had taken place in the heart and brain of the people, and which affected every transaction of life, trading, farming, studying, marrying, and giving in marriage.  The French whom the emigrant prince had to govern were no more like the French of his youth, than the French of his youth were like the French of the Jacquerie.  He came back to a people who knew not him nor his house, to a people to whom a Bourbon was no more than a Carlovingian or a Merovingian.  He might substitute the white flag for the tricolor; he might put lilies in the place of bees; he might order the initials of the Emperor to be carefully effaced.  But he could turn his eyes nowhere without meeting some object which reminded him that he was a stranger in the palace of his fathers.  He returned to a country in which even the passing traveller is every moment reminded that there has lately been a great dissolution and reconstruction of the social system.  To win the hearts of a people under such circumstances would have been no easy task even for Henry the Fourth.

In the English Revolution the case was altogether different.  Charles was not imposed on his countrymen, but sought by them.  His restoration was not attended by any circumstance which could inflict a wound on their national pride.  Insulated by our geographical position, insulated by our character, we had fought out our quarrels and effected our reconciliation among ourselves.  Our great internal questions had never been mixed up with the still greater question of national independence.  The political doctrines of the Roundheads were not, like those of the French philosophers, doctrines of universal application.  Our ancestors, for the most part, took their stand, not on a general theory, but on the particular constitution of the realm.  They asserted the rights, not of men, but of Englishmen.  Their doctrines therefore were not contagious; and, had it been otherwise, no neighbouring country was then susceptible of the contagion.  The language in which our discussions were generally conducted was scarcely known even to a single man of letters out of the islands.  Our local situation made it almost impossible that we should effect great conquests on the Continent.  The kings of Europe had, therefore, no reason to fear that their subjects would follow the example of the English Puritans, and looked with indifference, perhaps with complacency, on the death of the monarch and the abolition of the monarchy.  Clarendon complains bitterly of their apathy.  But we believe that this apathy was of the greatest service to the royal cause.  If a French or Spanish army had invaded England, and if that army had been cut to pieces, as we have no doubt that it would have been, on the first day on which it came face to face with the soldiers of Preston and Dunbar, with Colonel Fight-the-good-Fight, and Captain Smite-them-hip-and-thigh, the House of Cromwell would probably now have been reigning in England.  The nation would have forgotten all the misdeeds of the man who had cleared the soil of foreign invaders.