be not unfairly described as nearly, if not quite, the most successful pamphlet ever written. It is oftener quoted than read. To most readers it is known rather by the purple patches which adorn it-the 'I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards,' etc., and the 'No! we will have her' (the Church of England) 'exalt her mitred front in Courts and Parliaments'-than by its general purport. It is, however, by its general purport, and not by the fine passages, that its author's power to cope with the great event that was passing before his eyes must be estimated; and it must always be remembered that Burke was the ablest and most experienced English political writer of his day, and that, in so far as he failed to appreciate the Revolution, he did so by reason of the inadequacy of political knowledge and speculation as it then stood, and not by reason of any personal defect either in industry or mental power.

The general doctrine of the Reflections is, that existing institutions ought always to be made the basis on which reform should proceed; and that, in particular, the relations between Governments and their subjects ought to be ascertained, not by reference to any list of abstract propositions called by such names as the Rights of Man, but by reference to the institutions of given times and places, subject only to the proviso that the general result produced by the whole system is advantageous.

He enters into a long and, though eloquent, some

what boastful exposition of the way in which this principle applies to the English Constitution. He shows how, by slow degrees, one right after another was established by Parliament, always upon the ground that it formed part of the ancient franchises of England. He then turns round upon the French, and, with tremendous force of language and sarcasm, reproaches them for not having followed this good example: 'Your Constitution, it is true, whilst you were out of possession, suffered waste and dilapidation; but you possessed in some parts the walls, and in all the foundations, of a noble and venerable castle. You might have repaired those walls, you

might have built on those foundations.'

The French might have put themselves in a high position by connecting their reforms with the history of their ancestors. If this aim had been kept in view, 'You would not have been content to be represented as a gang of Maroon slaves suddenly broke loose from the house of bondage, and therefore to be pardoned for your abuse of the liberty to which you were not accustomed, and were ill fitted.'

He goes on to contrast the state of feeling and opinion in France and England respectively which led to these opposite results. In England, those natural feelings were preserved which in France had been sacrificed to pedantic speculation: 'In England, we have not yet been completely embowelled of our natural entrails. . . . We have not been drawn and trussed in order that we may be filled, like

stuffed birds in a museum, with chaff and rags, and paltry blurred shreds of paper about the rights of man [a passage, by the way, which appears to M. Michelet insane and blasphemous raving]. We preserve the whole of our feelings still native and entire unsophisticated by pedantry and infidelity.'

Religion, especially religion as embodied in the Established Church, is reverenced as the foundation of civil society, and the English people think that a Church Establishment lends a sort of sacred character to the State considered as a whole. France, on the other hand, has been misled by a 'literary cabal,' which had some years ago formed something like a regular plan for the destruction of the Christian religion.' By their malignant arts, they got possession of the public ear, controlled public opinion, and prevailed upon the States-General, which were composed principally of country curates and village attorneys (the estimate of the States-General, though not one of the most eloquent, is one of the shrewdest parts of the work), to confiscate the property of the Church. This state of mind led the French to overlook what was really good and wholesome in the Constitution of their country. It had great abuses, but it was by no means a very bad Government.

Then follows an estimate of the condition of France, and of the different parts of its population, which is of deep interest, especially when taken in connection with the result of M. de Tocqueville's inquiries into the same subject. Burke observes that the popula

tion of France was apparently flourishing, that there was much reason to believe that its wealth was increasing, that 'it is but cold justice to that fallen monarchy to say that for many years it trespassed more by levity and want of judgment in several of its schemes, than from any defect in diligence or in public spirit.'

He then proceeds to describe different classes of society. He speaks very highly of the noblesse, and points out, to the great credit of his sagacity, that they had nothing to do with the local administration. He admits as one of their faults, though he does not dwell on it, that they were too exclusive, not admitting rich men to a due share of consideration. One passage on this point is remarkable. No one would think of writing it now, and it marks the width of the gulf over which we have passed: 'To be honoured and even privileged by the laws, opinions, and inveterate usages of our country growing out of the prejudice of ages, has nothing to provoke horror and indignation in any man.'

His description of the clergy is to much the same effect. He defends their character, and vigorously and even ardently defends the utility of supporting them by endowments. The work concludes with a review of the Constitution established by the National Assembly, which is as fierce and contemptuous (and not undeservedly so) as words can make it. For our immediate purpose, the most remarkable passage in it is the following: 'If the present project of a

Republic should fail, all securities to a moderated freedom fail with it; all the indirect restraints which mitigate despotism are removed; insomuch that if Monarchy should ever again obtain an entire ascendency in France, under this or any other dynasty, it will probably be, if not voluntarily tempered at setting out by the wise and virtuous counsels of the prince, the most completely arbitrary power that has ever appeared on earth.'

Such are some of the most salient points of the view which the ablest of contemporary Englishmen took of the French Revolution. To common readers the fierce eloquence of the book will always constitute its great charm, and no doubt there is a wholesome pleasure in seeing a bully thrashed. The pedants and mere literary men who had ruled European, and especially French, opinion so noisily and so long, well deserved all that Burke said of them. 'Hit him again-harder if you can,' is the sentiment which rises in our mind on witnessing Burke's awful attacks on everybody who believed in the Rights of Man.

But this is, after all, a passing pleasure, and perhaps rather a boyish one. The real merits of the book are in its quieter parts. Every page in which Burke deals with the question of the state of France, or with the tendency of the revolutionary legislation, is surprisingly shrewd, and has received ample confirmation from the subsequent minute inquiries of M. de Tocqueville.