events might have happened in 1690, without endangering the monarchy, that were found sufficient to subvert it in 1790, it is natural to enquire, from what this difference has proceeded? all parties, it is believed, will agree in the answer. It proceeded from the change that had taken place in the condition and sentiments of the people; from the progress of commercial opulence; from the diffusion of information, and the prevalence of political discussion. Now, it seems difficult to deny that the philosophers were instrumental in bringing about this change; that they had attracted the public attention to the abuses of government, and spread very widely among the people the sentiment of their grievances and their rights. M. Mounier himself informs us, that, for some time before the revolution, the French nation "had been enamoured of the idea of liberty, without understanding very well what it meant, and without being conscious that they were so soon to have an opportunity of attaining it. When that opportunity offered itself," he adds, "it was seized with an enthusiastic eagerness that paralysed all the nerves of the sovereign." He acknowledges also, that the deputies of the Tiers Etat were enabled to disobey the royal mandate for their separation, and to triumph in that disobedience, only because the public opinion was so decidedly in their favour, that nobody could be found who would undertake to disperse them by violence.

Now, if it be true, that for upwards of twenty years before this period, this love of liberty had been inculcated with much zeal and little prudence, in many eloquent and popular publications, and that the names and the maxims of those writers were very much in the mouths of those who patronised the subversion of royalty in that country, is it not reasonable to presume, that some part of this enthusiasm for liberty, and some part of that popular favour for those who were supposed to be its champions, by means of which it is allowed that the Revolution was accomplished, may be attributed to the influence of those publications?

We do not wish to push this argument far; we are conscious that many other causes contributed to excite, in the minds of the people, those ideas of independence and reform by which the revolution was effected. The constant example, and increasing intimacy with England-the contagion caught in America-and above all, the advances that had been made in opulence and information, by those classes of the people to whom the exemptions and pretensions of the privileged orders were most obnoxious all co-operated to produce a spirit of discontent and innovation, and to increase their dislike and impatience of the defects and abuses of their government. In considering a question of this kind, it should never be forgotten that it had many defects, and was liable to manifold abuses; but for this very reason, the writers who aggravated these defects, and held out these abuses to detestation, were the more likely to make an impression. To say that they made none, and that all the zeal that was testified in France against despotism, and in favour of liberty, was the natural and spontaneous result of reflection and feeling in the minds of those whom it actuated, is to make an assertion which does not sound probable, and certainly has not been proved. That writings, capable of exciting it, existed, and were read, seems not to be contested upon any hand: it is somewhat paradoxical to contend, that they had yet no share in its excitation. If Molière could render the faculty of medicine ridiculous by a few farces, in an age much less addicted to literature; if Voltaire could, by the mere force of writing, advance the interests of infidelity, in opposition to all the or

thodox learning of Europe; is it to be imagined, that no effect would be produced by the greatest talents in the world, employed upon a theme the most popular and seductive?

M. Mounier has asked, if we think that men require to be taught the self-evident doctrine of their rights, and their means of redress; if the Roman insurgents were led by philosophers, when they seceded to Mons Sacer; or, if the Swiss and the Dutch asserted their liberties upon the suggestion of democratical authors? We would answer, that, in small states and barbarous ages, there are abuses so gross as to be absolutely intolerable, and so qualified as to become personal to every member of the community; that orators supply the place of writers in those early ages; and that we only deny the influence of the latter, where we are assured of their nonexistence. Because a vessel may be carried along by the current, shall we deny that her progress is assisted by the breeze?

We are persuaded, therefore, that the writings of those popular philosophers who have contended for political freedom, had some share in bringing about the revolution in France; how great, or how inconsiderable a share, we are not qualified to determine, and hold it, indeed, impossible to ascertain. There are no data from which we can estimate the relative force of such an influence; nor does language afford us any terms that are fitted to express its proportions. We must be satisfied with holding that it existed, and that those who deny its operation altogether, are almost as much mistaken as those who make it account for every thing.

But though we conceive that philosophy is thus, in some degree, responsible for the French revolution, we are far from charging her with the guilt that this name implies. The writers to whom we allude may have produced effects very different from what they intended, and very different even from what their works might seem calculated to produce. An approved medicine may have occasioned convulsions and death; and the flame that was meant to enlighten, may have spread into conflagration and ruin.

M. Mounier, throughout his book, has attended too little to distinction. He has denied, for the philosophers, all participation in the fact; and has had but little interest, therefore, to justify them on the score of intention. It is a subject, however, which deserves a little consideration.

That there were defects and abuses, and some of these very gross too, in the old system of government in France, we presume will scarcely be denied. That it was lawful to wish for their removal, will probably be as 'readily admitted; and that the peaceful influence of philosophy, while confined to this object, was laudably and properly exerted, seems to follow as a necessary conclusion. It would not be easy, therefore, to blame those writers who have confined themselves to a dispassionate and candid statement of the advantages of a better institution; and it must seem hard to involve in the guilt of Robespierre and the Jacobins, those persons in France who aimed at nothing more than the abolition of absurd privileges, and the limitation of arbitrary power. Montesquieu, Turgot, and Raynal were probably, in some degree, dissatisfied with the government of their country, and would have rejoiced in the prospect of a reform; but it can only be the delirium of party prejudice, that would suspect them of wishing for the downfall of royalty, and for the proscriptions and equality of a reign of terror. It would be treating their accusers too much like men in their senses, to justify such men any farther on the score of intention: yet it is possible that they may

have been instrumental in the revolution, and that their writings may have begun that motion, that terminated in ungovernable violence. We will not go over the common-place arguments that may be stated to convict them of imprudence. Every step that is taken towards the destruction of prejudice, is attended with the danger of an opposite excess: but it is no less clearly our duty to advance against prejudices; and they deserve the highest praise, who unite the greatest steadiness with the greatest precaution. At the time when the writings we are speaking of were published, there was not a man in Europe who could discern in them the seeds of future danger. So far from denouncing them as the harbingers of regicide and confusion, the public received them as hostages and guides to security. It was long thought that their effects were inadequate to their merits: nothing but the event could have instructed us that it was too powerful for our tranquillity. To such men, the reproach of improvidence can be made only because their foresight was not prophetic; and those alone are entitled to call them imprudent, who could have predicted the tempest in the calm, and foretold those consequences by which the whole world has since been astonished.

If it be true, therefore, that writers of this description have facilitated and promoted the revolution, it is a truth which should detract but little either from their merit or their reputation. Their designs were pure and honourable; and the natural tendency and promise of their labours was exalted and fair. They failed, by a fatality which they were not bound to foresee; and a concurrence of events, against which it was impossible for them to provide, turned that to mischief, which was planned out by wisdom for good. We do not tax the builder with imprudence, because the fortress which he erected for our protection is thrown down by an earthquake on our heads.

There is another set of writers, however, for whom it will not be so easy to find an apology, who, instead of sober reasoning and practical observation, have intruded upon the public with every species of extravagance and absurdity. The presumptuous theories and audacious maxims of Rousseau, Mably, Condorcet, etc. had a necessary tendency to do harm. They unsettled all the foundations of political duty, and taught the citizens of every existing community, that they were enslaved, and had the power of being free. M. Mounier has too much moderation himself, to approve of the doctrines of these reformers; but he assures us, that, instead of promoting the revolution, it was the revolution that raised them into celebrity; that they rose in reputation, after it became necessary to quote them as apologists or authorities; but that, before that time, their speculations were looked upon as brilliant absurdities, that no more deserved a serious confutation, than the Polity of Plato, or the Utopia of Sir Thomas More.-With all our respect for M. Mounier, we have some difficulty in believing this assertion. Rousseau, in particular, was universally read and admired, long before he was exalted into the revolutionary Pantheon; and his political sagacity must have had some serious admirers, when he was himself invited to legislate for an existing community. Whatever influence he had, however, was unquestionably pernicious; and though some apology may be found for him in the enthusiasm of his disordered imagination, he is chargeable with the highest presumption, and the most blameable imprudence. Of some of the other writers who have inculcated the same doctrines, we must speak rather in charity than in justice, if we say nothing more severe.

M. Mounier expresses himself with much judgment and propriety upon

the subject of religion; its necessity to a sound morality, and its tendency to promote rational liberty, and to preserve good order. He is of opinion, however, that there is no natural connexion between irreligion and democracy, and thinks that the infidel writers of this age have not to answer for its political enormities. He observes, that it was during the devoutest ages of the Church, that Italy was covered with republics, and that Switzerland asserted her independence; that the revolted States of America were composed of the most religious people of the world; and that the liberty and equality which brought Charles the First to the block, were generated. among fanatics and puritans.

Our limits will not allow us to enter fully into the consideration of this very important question. We shall take the liberty to make but two remarks upon the opinion we have just quoted. The one is, that the existence of insurrections in a religious age is no proof of the inefficacy of religion to promote a rational submission to authority;- -a check may be very strong, without being altogether insurmountable; and disorders may arise in spite. of religion, without discrediting its tendency to suppress them. It surely would be no good ground for denying that intoxication made men quarrelsome, to enumerate the instances in which people had quarrelled when they were sober. The other remark is, that instances taken from the conduct of enthusiasts and bigots have no fair application to the present question. Fanaticism and irreligion approach very nearly to each other in their effects on the moral conduct. He who thinks himself a favourite with the Deity, is apt to be as careless of his behaviour, as he who does. not believe at all in his existence: both think themselves alike entitled to dispense with the vulgar rules of morality; and both are alike destitute. of the curb and the guidance of a sober and rational religion. Submission to lawful authority is indisputably the maxim of Christianity; and they who destroy our faith in that religion, take away one security for our submission, and facilitate the subversion of governments. This is a great truth, the authority of which is not impaired by the rebellions that priests have instigated, or the disorders that fanatics have raised.

After having detained our readers so long with the investigation of M. Mounier's own theory of the revolution, we can scarcely undertake to follow him through all his remarks on the theories of others. He treats with much scorn and ridicule the idea of accounting for this great event, by the supposition of an actual conspiracy of philosophers and speculative men; and, upon this subject, we conceive that his statement is correct and satisfactory. There never were any considerable number of literary men in France, we are persuaded, who wished for the subversion of royalty; and the few that entertained that sentiment, expressed it openly in their writings, and do not appear to have taken any extraordinary pains, either to diffuse, or to set it in action. In attempting to prove this pretended conspiracy of the philosophers against the throne, we conceive that the Abbe Baruel has completely failed; and are certain, that his zeal has carried him into excesses, which no liberal man will justify. We shall say nothing of the declarations of that miserable hypochondriac (Le Roi), who is said to have revealed the secret of the committee which met at Baron Holbach's: but when an obscure writer denounces Montesquieu as a conspirator, and loads with every epithet of reproach the pure and respectable names of Turgot, Malesherbes, and Neckar, the public will know what to think of his charity and his cause. It required certainly nothing less than the acuteness of the odium thelogicum,

to discover, in Neckar's book, on the importance of religious opinions, a proof of the atheism of the writer; and it would require a faith, that had superseded both charity and judgment, to believe that this virtuous minister "excited a famine, to drive the people to revolt; and then ruined the finances, to force them on to rebellion.'

We agree, then, upon the whole, with M. Mounier, that the revolution was produced by apparent and natural causes; that there is no room for pretending to discoveries upon such a subject; and that the conspiracies and secret combinations which some writers have affected to disclose, have had no existence but in their own imagination. In the year 1786, there probably was not a man in France who entertained the idea of overthrowing the throne of the Bourbons; and the party that shook it first had evidently no connexion with that which laid it in ruins. It would not be easy to say, then, which party was the agent of this conspiracy of philosophers; and they who fought against each other could not well be pupils of the same school, nor acting from the same code of instruction. If the parliaments acted in subordination to this antimonarchical conspiracy, the leaders of the first National Assembly must have acted against it. If La Fayette was its emissary, Orleans must have been its foe. The conspirators who supported Brissot could not have contributed to the successes of Robespierre; and the devices by which Robespierre was successful cannot account for the triumphs of Bonaparte. The idea, in short, of a conspiracy, regularly concerted, and successfully carried on, by men, calling themselves philosophers, for the establishment of a republic, appears to us to be the most visionary and extravagant. Such a supposition has, no doubt, a fine dramatic effect, and gives an air of theatrical interest to the history; but, in the great tragedy of real life, there are no such fantastic plots or simple catastrophes. Events are always produced by the co-operation of complicated causes; and the theories that would refer them to extraordinary and mysterious agents may infal libly be rejected as erroneous.

We differ from M. Mounier, on the other hand, in believing, that though the philosophers did not concert or organise the revolution in their councils of conspiracy, they yet contributed, in some degree, to its production, by the influence of their writings; the greater part without consciousness or design, and a few through a dangerous zeal for liberty, or an excessive thirst for distinction.

CONSEQUENCES OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. *

Among the many evils which the French revolution has inflicted on mankind, the most deplorable, perhaps, both in point of extent and of probable duration, consists in the injury which it has done to the cause of rational freedom, and the discredit in which it has involved the principles of political philosophy. The warnings which may be derived from the misfortunes of that country, and the lessons which may still be read in the tragical consequences of her temerity, are memorable, no doubt, and important but they are such as are presented to us by the history of every

* Mémoires de Bailly.-Vol. vi. page 137. April, 1805.