In the deep mysterious ocean, Where the waves with ceaseless motion Through the wild and mad commotion When the weary world is sleeping, W. R. F TOWNSEND PRIZE ESSAYS. The Logic of Revolution. BY NORMAN C. PERKINS, POMFRET, VT. MEN fashion systems mightier than themselves, and of marvelous beauty; for God has builded them all in the human heart, and we but fulfill His purpose in embodying our own deep impulses in the living forms of human government. The structure of all social organization rests upon principles universal as humanity itself; and where these are lost sight of in institutions which spring from them, it is not strange that men should dig deep, and strive to build anew upon the broad groundwork of truth that underlies the whole fabric of social life. Such is the work of Revolution-going back, in its mode of thought, to those unseen springs of action which lie in the very constitution of our being, and reaching forward, in the development of that thought, to the recognition of immutable rights in the visible organisms of government. The leading idea of a Revolution is the popular conception of the best government; and its aim, not to establish the State upon a newly invented basis, but to bring it back to those primeval foundations which God himself has laid in the hearts of all men. The germs of all government are the seeds of all Revolution; both are the outgrowth of the same first principles of our nature, identical in their origin, and differing in result only as their development is gradual or sudden. Hence it is that revolutionists ground their action upon those simple doctrines which alone uphold and modify governmental institutions, and which men receive as ultimate truths. These elements of Revolution are two-fold; the objective notion of the relation between society and the individual, which varies among different people, and finds its expression in the ideal man; and the subjective feelings, which are common to all men, and the same in all ages. The ideal man forms the type of every government, and determines the character of every Revolution. A low ideal drags the government down to its own level; a lofty one elevates, or destroys it. The ancients regarded the individual as a mere creature of the State, and thus rendered Revolution, in its modern sense, impossible. To the people, the government was all in all, and it left them no foothold for opposition. Europe made great advance in civilization through other agencies, before she was prepared for that of Revolution. Feudal Aristocracy, the Clergy and Royalty, each gained the ascendancy for a time, and each in turn fulfilled its mission in the great labor of enfranchising the race. But there was a result they had not the power to achieve. They commenced the work Revolution was to finish. The elevation of the people was beyond their reach, and foreign to their purpose. Their struggle was for particular classes and special privileges, while there was a battle to be fought for the great mass of mankind, as opposed to all classes, and for universal rights, as opposed to all privilege. At length men began to understand their own nobility, and to regard government valuable only so far as it sought their own highest good. Then came Revolution. The philosophers of the 18th century were the fathers of the struggle of ninety-eight, not because they taught rebellion, but because they instilled into the popular mind a higher notion of humanity, and because from them people learned to regard themselves as superior to venerable corruption, and all the institutions of unjust government. They gave to France a new ideal; and striving to realize what was shadowed forth in the national mind, she wrought out the mighty conception in fire and blood. Individuals sometimes rebel from motives less comprehensive than the elevation of their kind; nations, never. Revolutions are for the attainment of something nobler and higher; for the establishment of the government which most nearly approaches a people's notion of the perfect form. All systems are estimated by their conformity to, or departure from, this ideal standard. The security of all the rights with which they invest the individual, is the great end to be gained; all things else are to them but means, or hindrances, to this accomplishment. This estimate of man as man—the ideal of any age or people-stands forth as an ultimate fact, the authority of which as a ground of action men never dare to question, and beyond which they never seek to penetrate. Such is the first great elementary principle of Revolution. But the loftiest conception of man and his attributes is insufficient of itself to produce Revolution. Men feel before they act, and resolve to do something before they determine what. Their idea of things external to themselves may guide their efforts, but the vital energy lies within. Theories are empty speculations till the deep consciousness of men gives them a significance and a power. Revolutions spring from the heart rather than the head, and originate in untaught impulses rather than reason. When the inherent right to life and property is disregarded; when the kindly feeling of benevolence, which goes out toward all human kind, is outraged by the suffering of others; when the sanctities of domestic life are invaded, and the love of family and kindred set at naught; when the desire of power, which leads them to abhor servility, is thwarted; when freedom of opinion and of expression is wrongfully checked; when the aspirations of patriotism are crushed by the degradation of their country, men feel the wrong they suffer, and wait for no homily on human rights to rouse them to action. It was not his doctrine of kingly prerogative that cost the First Charles his life, but the practical measures which resulted from it. It was not their colonial dependence that roused our own fathers to resistance, but the forcible violation of what they conceived to be their dearest privileges. A paltry tax on tea did what no mere theory of oppression could have effected. Intolerable suffering among the people gave the French Revolution a fierceness which, in destroying dynasties, well nigh overturned society itself. Still, these subjective principles of our nature, when acting alone, are unequal to the work of Revolution. They cause uprisings and fearful struggles, but in the absence of other aid are a destructive force, without definite aim, capacity for choosing better forms, or power to re-conWhen these are united with a high conception of the ideal man, the movement possesses at once energizing and directing agencies, and the essential conditions of all Revolution are fulfilled. struct. This universal peculiarity of Revolutionary attempts-the fact of their being grounded on what men receive as ultimate truths-is fraught with deep meaning, and gives to them their chief significance, by determining the occasion of the contest, shaping its features, and thus influencing the character of its results. 1. It limits Revolutions to cases where such measures have become an absolute necessity. Imaginary evils never endanger kingdoms, or disturb the operation of systematic government. Intuition never confounds real wrong with the seeming. Men do not engage in Revolution as a pastime, but as a sad labor for the accomplishment of great good. The principles upon which Revolutions depend are the same that teach the advantage of government itself, and they render men slow to destroy one system, while they direct how to establish another in its place. "There are no instances of resistance," said the elder Adams, “until repeated, multiplied oppressions have placed it beyond a doubt that their rulers had formed settled plans to deprive them of their liberties;" and even Machiavel declares, that not ingratitude to their rulers, but much love, is the constant fault of the people. 2. It gives them a right direction. Revolutions never travel backwards, and never fail of accomplishing some good. The advance may be small indeed, but it is a step in the true path, and cannot be utterly in vain. A tyrant may seize the government by a coup d'etat, or by gathering military power in periods of anarchy, but never by a Revolu tion. A popular outbreak has for its object something more than the elevation of a despot, and men are too true to themselves to compass their own subjection. They chant the Marsellaise to sacred Freedom, but sing no triumphal songs to Tyranny. Revolutions may not finish their work, but they prepare the way, and do something in the great cause for which they are instituted. France to-day, with all her humil. iation, is better than of old, for the vestiges of an overpowering Feudalism have been swept away, and she but bides her time for the full realization of what she has half accomplished. Her transition state came later than with England, and advances slowly, because her degradation was great. When men rebuild a city they first tear down lofty walls and stately dwellings, and amidst the ruin there springs up many a shabby hut, and people mourn that for this the builders have destroyed so much; but underneath the rubbish, all silently the workmen lay the deep foundation stones whereon shall one day rise a new city more beautiful than the first. And so it is with the progress of Revolutions. 3. This characteristic of Revolutions produces a unity of effort among large masses of men, and thus invests the undertaking with the attribute of almost unlimited power. We read that when Godfrey led the armies of Europe to their first crusade, and at length the toil-worn legions beheld the Sacred City, a deep sound rolled through the mighty host like the murmur of a tempest, as with one impulse each man of that great multitude cried out, "Jerusalem! Jerusalem!" So in Revolutions are men moved by one feeling, and a universal murmur rises up from the nation, as with one voice the people utter the great truth for the success of which the contest is entered upon. Revolution must arise from principles comprehended and felt by all men, and upon a basis broad as the object to be gained. When the whole people are thus filled with a single idea, and striving for a single purpose, their united energy becomes powerful to overcome all difficulty and to bear down all opposition. 4. Moreover, it produces earnestness of individual exertion, and thus secures perseverance of effort. Men feel sure of being in the right, and the principles which move them are too deep-rooted to allow feebleness of execution, or a pause in what they have undertaken. At such times men act from a stern conviction of duty, and it may be with the fearful energy of despair. They may not always have the ability to guide their action wisely, but they have hearts to feel, and suffering makes heroes of them all. Men thus actuated by principles which to them have all the authority of inspiration, and by which they become imbued with a fervor that not unfrequently approaches madness, do their work with a sweeping power and thoroughness; and herein lies at once the hope and the danger of Revolution. 1. In seeking to embody the abstractions of governmental theory in practical institutions, men are liable to overlook the modifications demanded by human imperfection and weakness, and to forget that possible systems are at best but approximations to the true, and often necessarily blended with the false. 2. In following the teachings of first principles, too, Revolutionists are likely to make insufficient allowance for the peculiar circumstances which surround their undertaking, and the real condition of the nation for which the reform is intended. Leading minds often endeavor to establish higher forms than the people are fitted to receive, or prepared to support. "Circumstances," says Edmund Burke, "give in reality to every political principle its distinguishing color and discriminating effect. The circumstances are what render every civil and political scheme beneficial or noxious to mankind." 3. But the one danger in Revolutions greater than all others, arises from that universality of action which first principles insure, and lies in the fact, that when masses of men act together, the sense of responsibil |