|  | READING HALLTHE DOORS OF WISDOM |  | 
|  |  | 
| 
 A HISTORY OF MODERN EUROPE FROM 1792 TO 1878
 CHAPTER XVIII.EUROPE BEFORE 1848
           The
          characteristic of Continental history during the second quarter of this century
          is the sense of unrest. The long period of European peace which began in 1815
          was not one of internal repose ; the very absence of those engrossing and
          imperious interests which belong to a time of warfare gave freer play to the
          feelings of discontent and the vague longings for a better political order
          which remained behind after the convulsions of the revolutionary epoch and the
          military rule of Napoleon had passed away. During thirty years of peace the
          breach had been widening between those Governments which still represented the
          system of 1815, and the peoples over whom they ruled. Ideas of liberty,
          awakenings of national sense, were far more widely diffused in Europe than at
          the time of the revolutionary war. The seed then pre-maturely forced into an
          atmosphere of storm and reaction had borne its fruit: other growths, fertilised or accelerated by Western Liberalism, but not
          belonging to the same family, were springing up in unexpected strength, and in
          regions which had hitherto lain outside the movement of the modern world. New
          forces antagonistic to Government had come into being, penetrating an area
          unaffected by the constitutional struggles of the Mediterranean States, or by
          the weaker political efforts of Germany. In the homes of the Magyar and the
          Slavic subjects of Austria, so torpid throughout the agitation of an earlier
          time, the passion of nationality was every hour gaining new might. The older
          popular causes, vanquished for the moment by one reaction after another, had
          silently established a far stronger hold onA men's minds. Working, some in exile and conspiracy, others through such form of
          political literature as the jealousy of Governments permitted, the leaders of
          the democratic movement upon the Continent created a power before which the
          established order at length succumbed. They had not created, nor was it
          possible under the circumstances that they should create, an order which was
          capable of taking its place.
   Italy, rather
          than France, forms the central figure in any retrospect of Europe immediately
          before 1848 in which the larger forces at work are not obscured by those for
          the moment more prominent. The failure of the insurrection of 1831 had left
          Austria more visibly than before master over the Italian people even in those
          provinces in which Austria was not nominally sovereign. It had become clear
          that no effort after reform could be successful either in the Papal States or
          in the kingdom of Naples so long as Austria held Lombardy and Venice. The
          expulsion of the foreigner was therefore not merely the task of those who
          sought to give the Italian race its separate and independent national
          existence, it was the task of all who would extinguish oppression and
          misgovernment in any part of the Italian peninsula. Until the power of Austria
          was broken, it was vain to take up arms against the tyranny of the Duke of Modena
          or any other contemptible oppressor. Austria itself had twice taught this
          lesson; and if the restoration of Neapolitan despotism in 1821 could be justified
          by the disorderly character of the Government then suppressed, the
          circumstances attending the restoration of the Pope's authority In 1831 had
          extinguished Austria's claim to any sort of moral respect; for Metternich
          himself had united with the other European Courts in declaring the necessity
          for reforms in the Papal Government, and of these reforms, though a single
          earnest word from Austria would have enforced their execution, hot one had been
          carried into effect. Gradually, but with increasing force as each unhappy year
          passed by, the conviction gained weight among all men of serious thought that
          the problem to be faced was nothing less than the destruction of the Austrian
          yoke. Whether proclaimed as an article of faith or veiled in diplomatic reserve,
          this belief formed the common ground among men whose views on the immediate
          future of Italy differed in almost every other particular.
           Three main
          currents of opinion to be traced in the ferment of ideas which preceded the
          Italian revolution of 1848. At a time not rich in intellectual nor in moral
          power, the most striking figure among those who are justly honoured as the founders of Italian independence is perhaps that of Mazzini. Exiled
          during nearly the whole of his mature life, a conspirator in the eyes of all
          Governments, a dreamer in the eyes of the world, Mazzini was a prophet or an
          evangelist among those whom his influence led to devote themselves to the one
          cause of their country's regeneration. No firmer faith, no nobler
          disinterestedness, ever animated the saint or the patriot; and if in Mazzini
          there was also something of the visionary and the fanatic, the force with which
          he grasped the two vital conditions of Italian revival—the expulsion of the
          foreigner and the establishment of a single national Government—proves him to
          have been a thinker of genuine politick insight. Laying the foundation of his
          creed deep in the moral nature of man, and constructing upon this basis a
          fabric not of rights but of duties, he invested the political union with the
          immediateness, the sanctity, and the beauty of family life, with him, to live,
          to think, to hope, was to live, to think, to hope for Italy; and the Italy of
          his ideal was a Republic embracing' every member of the race, purged of the
          priestcraft and the superstition which had degraded the man to the slave,
          indebted to itself alone for its independence, and consolidated by the reign of
          equal law. The rigidity with which Mazzini adhered to his own great project in
          its completeness, and his impatience with any bargaining away of national
          rights, excluded him from the work of those practical poli-ticians and men of expedients who in 1859 effected with foreign aid. the first step
          towards Italian union; but the influence of his teaching and his organisation in preparing his countrymen for independence
          was immense; and the dynasty which has rendered to United Italy services which
          Mazzini thought impossible, owes to this great Republican scarcely less than to
          its ablest friends.
   Widely
          separated from the school of Mazzini in temper and intention was the group of
          politicians and military' men, belonging mostly to Piedmont, who looked to the
          sovereign and the army of this State as the one hope of Italy in its struggle
          against foreign rule. The House of Savoy, though foreign in its origin, was,
          and had been for centuries, a national dynasty. It was, moreover, by interest
          and traditional policy, the rival rather than the friend of Austria in Northern
          Italy. If the fear of revolution had at times brought the Court of Turin into
          close alliance with Vienna, the connection had but thinly veiled the lasting
          antagonism of two States which, as neighbours, had
          habitually sought expansion each at the other's cost. Lombardy, according to
          the expression of an older time, was the artichoke which the Kings of Piedmont were
          destined to devour leaf by leaf. Austria, on the other hand, sought extension
          towards the Alps: it had in 1799 clearly shown its intention of excluding the
          House of Savoy altogether from the Italian mainland; and the remembrance of
          this epoch had led the restored dynasty in 1815 to resist the plans of
          Metternich for establishing a league of all the princes of Italy under
          Austria's protection. The sovereign, moreover, who after the failure of the
          constitutional movement of 1821 had mounted the throne surrounded by Austrian
          bayonets, was no longer alive. Charles Albert of Carignano,
          who had at that time played so ambiguous a part, and whom Metternich had
          subsequently endeavoured to exclude from the
          succession, was on the throne. He had made his peace with absolutism by
          fighting in Spain against the Cortes in 1823 ; and since his accession to the
          throne he had rigorously suppressed the agitation of Mazzini’s partizans within his own dominions. But in spite of strong
          clerical and reactionary influences around him, he had lately shown an
          independence of spirit in his dealings with Austria which raised him in the
          estimation of his subjects; and it was believed that his opinions had been
          deeply affected by the predominance which the idea of national independence was
          now gaining over that of merely democratic change. If the earlier career of
          Charles Albert himself cast some doubt upon his personal sincerity, and much
          more upon his constancy of purpose, there was at least in Piedmont an army
          thoroughly national in its sentiment, and capable of taking the lead whenever
          the opportunity should arise for uniting Italy against the foreigner. In no
          other Italian State was. there an effective military force, or one so little
          adulterated with foreign elements.
   A third current
          of opinion in these years of hope and of illusion was that represented in the
          writings of Gioberti, the depicter of a new and
          glorious Italy, regenerated not by philosophic republicanism or the sword of a
          temporal monarch, but by the moral force of a reformed and reforming Papacy.
          The conception of the Catholic Church as a great Liberal power, strange and
          fantastic as it now appears, was no dream of an isolated Italian enthusiast; it
          was an idea which, after the French Revolution of 1830, and the establishment
          of a government at once anti-clerical and anti-democratic, powerfully
          influenced some of the best minds in France, and found in Montalembert and Lamennais exponents who commanded the ear of
          Europe. If the corruption of the Papacy had been at once the spiritual and the
          political death of Italy, its renovation in purity and in strength would be
          also the resurrection of the Italian people. Other lands had sought, and sought
          in vain, to work out their problems under the guidance of leaders antagonistic
          to the Church, and of popular doctrines divorced from religious faith. To Italy
          belonged the prerogative of spiritual power. By this power, aroused from the
          torpor of ages, and speaking, as it had once spoken, to the very conscience of
          mankind, the gates of a glorious future would be thrown open. Conspirators
          might fret, and politicians scheme, but the day on which the new life of Italy
          would begin would be that day when the head of the Church, taking his place as
          chief of a federation of Italian States, should raise the banner of freedom and
          national right, and princes and people alike should follow the all-inspiring
          voice.
   A monk,
          ignorant of everything but cloister lore, benighted, tyrannical, the companion
          in his private life of a few jolly priests and a gossiping barber, was not an
          alluring emblem of the Church of the future. But in 1846 Pope Gregory XVI, who
          for the last five years had been engaged in one incessant struggle against
          insurgents, conspirators, and reformers, and whose prisons were crowded with
          the best of his subjects, passed away. His successor, Mastai Ferretti, Bishop of Imola, was elected under the
          title of Pius IX, alter the candidate favoured by
          Austria had failed to secure the requisite number of votes (June 17). The
          choice of this kindly and popular prelate was to some extent a tribute to
          Italian feeling; and for the next eighteen months it appeared as if Gioberti had really dinned the secret of the age. The first
          act of the new Pope was the publication of a universal amnesty for political
          offences. The prison doors throughout his dominions were thrown open, and men
          who had been sentenced to confinement for life returned in exultation to their
          homes. The act created a profound impression throughout Italy, and each good-humoured utterance of Pius confirmed the belief that
          great changes were at hand. A wild enthusiasm seized upon Rome. The population
          abandoned itself to festivals in honour of the
          Pontiff and of the approaching restoration of Roman liberty. Little was done;
          not much was actually promised; every-thing was believed. The principle of
          representative government was discerned in the new Council of State now placed
          by the side of the College of Cardinals; Reforms expected from a more serious
          concession was made to popular feeling in the permission given to the citizens
          of Rome, and afterwards to those of the provinces, to enrol themselves in a civic guard. But the climax of excitement was reached when, in
          answer to a threatening movement of Austria, occasioned by the growing
          agitation throughout Central Italy, the Papal Court protested against the
          action of its late protector. By the Treaties of Vienna Austria had gained the
          right to garrison the citadel of Ferrara, though this town lay within the Ecclesiastical
          States. Placing a new interpretation on the expression used in the Treaties,
          the Austrian Government occupied the town of Ferrara itself (June 17th, 1847).
          The movement was universally understood to be the preliminary to a new
          occupation of the Papal States, like that of 1831; and the protests of the Pope
          against the violation of his territory gave to the controversy a European
          importance. The English and French fleets appeared at Naples; the King of
          Sardinia openly announced his intention to take the field against Austria if
          war should break out. By the efforts of neutral Powers a compromise on the
          occupation of Ferrara was at length arranged; but the passions which had been
          excited were not appeased, and the Pope remained in popular imagination the
          champion of Italian independence against Austria, as well as the apostle of constitutional
          Government and the rights of the people.
   In the meantime
          the agitation begun in Rome was spreading through the north and the south of
          the peninsula, and beyond the Sicilian Straits. The centenary of the expulsion
          of the Austrians from Genoa in December, 1746, was celebrated throughout
          central Italy with popular demonstrations which gave Austria warning of the
          storm about to burst upon it. In the south, however, impatience under domestic
          tyranny was a far more powerful force than the distant hope of national
          independence. Sicily had never forgotten the separate rights which it had once
          enjoyed, and the constitution given to it under the auspices of England in
          1812. Communications passed between the Sicilian leaders and the opponents of
          the Bourbon Government on the mainland, and in the autumn of 1847 simultaneous
          risings took place in Calabria and at Messina. These were repressed without
          difficulty; but the fire smouldered far and wide, and
          on the 13th of January, 1848, the population of Palermo rose in revolt. For
          fourteen days the conflict between the people and the Neapolitan troops
          continued. The city was bombarded, but in the end the people were victorious,
          and a provisional government was formed by the leaders of the insurrection. One
          Sicilian town after another followed the example of the capital, and expelled
          its Neapolitan garrison. Threatened by revolution in Naples itself, King Ferdinand
          II, grandson of the despot of 1821, now imitated the policy of his predecessor,
          and proclaimed a constitution. A Liberal Ministry was formed, but no word was
          said as to the autonomy claimed by Sicily, and promised, as it would seem, by
          the leaders of the popular party on the mainland. After the first excitement of
          success was past, it became clear that the Sicilians were as widely at variance
          with the newly-formed Government at Naples as with that which they had
          overthrown.
   The
          insurrection of Palermo gave a new stimulus and imparted more of revolutionary colour to the popular move-ment throughout Italy. Constitutions were granted in Piedmont and Tuscany. In the
          Austrian provinces national exasperation against the rule of the foreigner grew
          daily more menacing. Radetzky, the Austrian Commander-in-chief, had long
          foreseen the impending struggle, and had endeavoured,
          but not with complete success, to impress his own views upon the imperial
          Government. Verona had been made the centre of a
          great system of fortifications, and the strength of the army under Radetzky's
          command had been considerably increased, but it was not until the eleventh hour
          that Metternich abandoned the hope of tiding over difficulties by his old
          system of police and spies, and permitted the establishment of undisguised
          military rule. In order to injure the finances of Austria, a general resolution
          had been made by the patriotic societies of Upper Italy to abstain from the use
          of tobacco, from which the Government drew a large part of its revenue. On the
          first Sunday in 1848 Austrian officers, smoking in the streets of Milan, were
          attacked by the people. The troops were called to arms: a conflict took place,
          and enough blood was shed to give to the tumult the importance of an actual revolt.
          In Padua and elsewhere similar outbreaks followed. Radetzky issued a general
          order to his troops, declaring that the Emperor was determined to defend his
          Italian dominion whether against an external or domestic foe. Martial law was
          proclaimed; and for a moment, although Piedmont gave signs of throwing itself
          into the Italian movement, the awe of Austria's military power hushed the
          rising tempest. A few weeks more revealed to an astonished world the secret
          that the Austrian State, so great and so formidable in the eyes of friend and
          foe, was itself on the verge of dissolution.
   It was to the
          absence of all stirring public life, not to any real assimilative power or any
          high intelligence in administration, that the House of Hapsburg owed, during
          the eighteenth century, the continued union of Austria, that motley of nations
          or races which successive conquests, marriages, and treaties had brought under
          its dominion. The violence of the attack made by the Emperor Joseph upon all
          provincial rights first re-awakened the slumbering spirit of Hungary; but the
          national movement of that time, which excited such strong hopes and alarms, had
          been succeeded by a long period of stagnation, and during the Napoleonic, wars
          the repression of everything that appealed to any distinctively national spirit
          had become more avowedly than before the settled principle of the Austrian
          Court. In 1812 the Hungarian Diet had resisted the financial measures of the
          Government. The consequence was that, in spite of the law requiring its convocation
          every three years, the Diet was not again summoned till 1825. During the
          intermediate period, the Emperor raised taxes and levies by edict alone.
          Deprived of its constitutional representation, the Hungarian nobility pursued
          its opposition to the encroach-ments of the Crown in
          the Sessions of each county. At these assemblies, to which there existed no
          parallel in the western and more advanced States of the Continent, each
          resident land-owner who belonged to the very numerous caste of the noblesse was
          entitled to speak and to vote. Retaining, in addition to the right of free
          discussion and petition, the appointment of local officials, as well as a
          considerable share in the actual administration, the Hungarian county -
          assemblies, handing down a spirit of rough independence from an immemorial
          past, were probably the hardiest relic of self-government existing in any of
          the great monarchical States of Europe. Ignorant, often uncouth in their
          habits, oppressive to their peasantry, and dominated by the spirit of race and
          caste, the mass of the Magyar nobility had indeed proved as impervious to the humanising influences of the eighteenth century as they had
          to the solicitations of despotism. The Magnates, or highest order of noblesse,
          who formed a separate chamber in the Diet, had been to some extent denationalised; they were at once more European in their
          culture, and more submissive to the Austrian Court. In banishing political
          discussion from the Diet to the County Sessions, the Emperor's Government had
          intensified the provincial spirit which it sought to extinguish. Too numerous
          to be won over by personal inducements, and remote from the imperial agencies
          which had worked so effectively through the Chamber of Magnates, the lesser
          nobility of Hungary during these years of absolutism carried the habit of
          political discussion to their homes, and learnt to baffle the imperial
          Government by withholding all help and all information from its subordinate
          agents. Each county-assembly became a little Parliament, and a centre of resistance to the usurpation Of the Crown, The
          stimulus given to the national spirit by this struggle against unconstitutional
          rule was seen not less in the vigorous attacks made upon the Government on the
          reassembling of the Diet in 1825, than in the demand that Magyar, and not
          Latin as heretofore, should be the language used in recording the proceedings
          of the Diet, and in which communications should pass between the Upper and the
          Lower House.
   There lay in
          this demand for the recognition of the national language the germ of a conflict
          of race against race which was least of all suspected by those by whom the
          demand was made. Hungary, as a political unity, comprised, besides the Slavic
          kingdom of Croatia, wide regions in which the inhabitants were of Slavic or Roumanian race, and where the Magyar was known only as a
          feudal lord. The district in which the population at large belonged to the
          Magyar stock did not exceed one-half of the kingdom. For the other races of
          Hungary, who were probably twice as numerous as them-selves, the Magyars
          entertained the utmost contempt, attributing to them the moral qualities of the
          savage, and denying to them the possession of any nationality whatever. In a
          country combining so many elements ill-blended with one another, and all alike
          subject to a German Court at Vienna, Latin, as the language of the Church and
          formerly the language of international communication, had served well as a
          neutral means of expression in public affairs. There might be Croatian deputies
          in the Diet who could not speak Magyar; the Magyars could not understand
          Croatian; both could understand and could without much effort express
          themselves in the species of Latin which passed muster at Presburg and at Vienna. Yet no freedom of handling could convert a dead language into a
          living one ; and when the love of country and of ancient right became once more
          among the Magyars an inspiring passion, it naturally sought a nobler and more
          spontaneous utterance than dog-latin. Though no law
          was passed upon the subject in the Parliament in which it was first mooted,
          speakers in the Diet of 1832 used their mother-tongue ; and when the Viennese
          Government forbade the publication of the debates, reports were circulated in manu-script through the country by Kossuth, a young deputy,
          who after the dissolution of the Diet in 1836 paid for his defiance of the
          Emperor by three years’ imprisonment.
   Hungary now
          seemed to be entering upon an epoch of varied and rapid national development.
          The barriers which separated it from the Western world were disappearing. The
          literature, the ideas, the inventions of Western Europe were penetrating its
          archaic society, and transforming a movement which in its origin had been
          conservative and aristocratic into one of far-reaching progress and reform.
          Alone among the opponents of absolute power on the Continent, the Magyars had
          based their resistance on positive constitutional right, on prescription, and
          the settled usage of the past; and throughout the conflict with the Crown
          between 1812 and 1825 legal right was on the side not of the Emperor but of
          those whom he attempted to coerce. With excellent judgment the Hungarian
          leaders had during these years abstained from raising any demand for reforms,
          appreciating the advantage of a purely defensive position in a combat with a
          Court pledged in the eyes of all Europe, as Austria was, to the defence of legitimate rights. This policy had gained its
          end; the Emperor, after thirteen years of conflict, had been forced to reconvoke the Diet, and to abandon the hope of effecting a
          work in which his uncle, Joseph II, had failed. But, the constitution once
          saved, that narrow and exclusive body of rights for which the nobility had
          contended no longer satisfied the needs or the conscience of the time. Opinion
          was moving fast; the claims of the towns and of the rural population were
          making themselves felt; the agitation that followed the overthrow of the
          Bourbons in 1830 reached Hungary too, not so much through French influence as
          through the Polish war of independence, in which the Magyars saw a struggle not
          unlike their own, enlisting their warmest sympathies for the Polish armies so
          long as they kept the field, and for the exiles who came among them when the
          conflict was over. By the side of the old defenders of class-privilege there
          arose men imbued with the spirit of modern Liberalism. The laws governing the
          relation of the peasant to his lord, which remained nearly as they had been
          left by Maria Theresa, were dealt with by the Diet of 1832 in so liberal a
          spirit that the Austrian Government, formerly of far in advance of Hungarian
          opinion on this subject, refused its assent to many of the measures passed.
          Great schemes of social and material improvement also aroused the public hopes
          in these years. The better minds became conscious of the real aspect of
          Hungarian life in comparison with that of civilised Europe—of its poverty, its inertia, its boorishness. Extraordinary energy was
          thrown into the work of advance by Count Szechenyi, a
          nobleman whose imagination had been fired by Szechenyi the contrast which the busy industry of Great Britain and the practical
          interests of its higher classes presented to the torpor of his own country. It
          is to him that Hungary owes the bridge uniting its double capital at Pesth, and
          that Europe owes the unimpeded navigation of the Danube, which he first
          rendered possible by the destruction of the rocks known as the Iron Gates at Orsova. Sanguine, lavishly generous, an ardent patriot, Szechenyi endeavoured to arouse
          men of his own rank, the great and the powerful in Hungary, to the sense of
          what was due from them to their country as leaders in its industrial
          development. He was no revolutionist, nor was he an enemy to Austria. A
          peaceful political future would best have accorded with his own designs for
          raising Hungary to its due place among nations.
   That the
          Hungarian movement of this time was converted from one of fruitful progress
          into an embittered political conflict ending in civil war was due, among other
          causes, to the action of the Austrian Cabinet itself. Wherever constitutional
          right existed, there Austria saw a natural enemy. The province of Transylvania,
          containing a mixed population of Magyars, Germans, and Roumanians,
          had, like Hungary, a Diet of its own, which Diet ought to have been summoned
          every year. It was, however, not once assembled between 1811 and 1834. In the
          agitation at length provoked in Transylvania by this disregard of
          constitutional right, the Magyar element naturally took the lead, and so gained
          complete ascendancy in the province. When the Diet met in 1834, its language
          and conduct were defiant in the highest degree. It was speedily dissolved, and
          the scandal occasioned by its proceedings disturbed the last days of the
          Emperor Francis, who died in 1835, leaving the throne to his son Ferdinand, an
          invalid incapable of any serious exertion. It soon appeared that nothing was
          changed in the principles of the Imperial Government, and that whatever hopes
          had been formed of the establishment of a freer system under the new reign were
          delusive. The leader of the Transylvanian Opposition was Count Wesselenyi. himself a Magnate in Hungary, who, after the
          dissolution of the Diet, betook himself to the Sessions of the Hungarian
          counties, and there delivered speeches against the Court which led to his being
          arrested and brought to trial for high treason. His cause was taken up by the
          Hungarian Diet, as one in which the rights of the local assemblies were
          involved. The plea of privilege was, however, urged in vain, and the sentence
          of exile which was passed upon Count Wessetenyi became a new source of contention between the Crown and the Magyar Estates.
   The enmity of
          Government was now a sufficient passport to popular favour.
          On emerging from his prison under a general amnesty in 1840, Kossuth undertook
          the direction of a Magyar journal at Pesth, which at once gained an immense
          influence throughout the country. The spokesman of a new generation, Kossuth
          represented an entirely different order of ideas from those of the orthodox
          defenders of the Hungarian Constitution. They had been conservative and
          aristocratic; he was revolutionary: their weapons had been drawn from the
          storehouse of Hungarian positive law; his inspiration was from the Liberalism
          of western Europe. Thus within the national party itself there grew up sections
          in more or less pronounced antagonism to one another, though all were united by
          a passionate devotion to Hungary and by an unbounded faith in its future. Szechenyi, and those who with him subordinated political to
          material ends, regarded Kossuth as a dangerous theorist. Between the more
          impetuous and the more cautious reformers stood the recognised Parliamentary leaders of the Liberals, among whom Dedk had already given proof of political capacity of no common order. In Kossuth's
          journal the national problems of the time were discussed both by his opponents
          and by his friends. Publicity gave greater range as well as greater animation
          to the conflict of ideas; and the rapid development of opinion during these
          years was seen in the large and ambitious measures which occupied the Diet of
          1843. Electoral and municipal reform, the creation of a code of criminal of
          law, the introduction of trial by jury, the abolition of the immunity of the
          nobles from taxation; all these, and similar legislative projects, displayed at
          once the energy of the time and the influence of western Europe in transforming
          the political conceptions of the Hungarian nation. Hitherto the forty-three
          Free Cities had possessed but a single vote in the Diet, as against the
          sixty-three votes possessed by the Counties. It was now generally admitted that
          this anomaly could not continue; but inasmuch as civic rights were themselves monopolised by small privileged orders among the townsmen,
          the problem of constitutional reform carried with it that of a reform of the
          municipalities. Hungary in short was now face to face with the task of
          converting its ancient system of the representation of the privileged orders
          into the modern system of a representation of the nation at large. Arduous at
          every epoch and in every country, this work was one of almost insuperable
          difficulty in Hungary, through the close connection with the absolute monarchy
          of Austria ; through the existence of a body of poor noblesse, numbered at two
          hundred thousand, who, though strong in patriotic sentiment, bitterly resented
          any attack upon their own freedom from taxation ; and above all through the
          variety of races in Hungary, and the attitude assumed by the Magyars, as the
          dominant nationality, towards the Slavs around them. In proportion as the
          energy of the Magyars and their confidence in the victory of the national cause
          mounted high, so rose their disdain of all claims beside their own within the
          Hungarian kingdom. It was resolved by the Lower Chamber of the Diet of 1843
          that no language but Magyar should be permitted in debate, and that at the end
          of ten years every person not capable of speaking the Magyar language should be
          excluded from all public employment. The Magnates softened the latter provision
          by excepting from it the holders of merely local offices in Slavic districts;
          against the prohibition of Latin in the Diet the Croatians appealed to the
          Emperor. A rescript arrived from Vienna placing a veto upon the resolution. So
          violent was the storm excited in the Diet itself by this rescript, and so
          threatening the language of the national leaders outside, that the Cabinet,
          after a short interval, revoked its decision, and accepted a compromise which,
          while establishing Magyar as the official language of the kingdom, and
          requiring that it should be taught even in Croatian schools, permitted the use
          of Latin in the Diet for the next six years. In the meantime the Diet had
          shouted down every speaker who began with the usual Latin' formula, and
          fighting had taken place in Agram, the Croatian
          capital, between the national and the Magyar factions!
   It was in vain
          that the effort was made at Presburg to resist all
          claims but those of one race. The same quickening breath which had stirred the
          Magyar nation to new life had also passed over the branches of the Slavic
          family within the Austrian dominions far and near. In Bohemia a revival of
          interest in the Czech language and movements, which began about 1820, had in
          the following decade gained a distinctly political character. Societies
          originally or 'professedly' founded for literary objects had become the centres of a popular movement directed towards the
          emancipation of the Czech elements in Bohemia from German ascendancy, and the
          restoration of something of a national character to the institutions of the
          kingdom. Among the southern Slavs, with whom Hungary was more directly
          concerned, the national movement first became visible rather later. Its
          earliest manifestations took, just as in Bohemia, a literary or linguistic
          form. Projects for the formation of a common language which, under the name of
          Illyrian, should draw together all the Slavic populations between the Adriatic
          and the Black Sea, occupied for a while the fancy of the learned ; but the more
          ambitious part of this design, which had given some umbrage to the Turkish
          Government, was abandoned in obedience to instructions from Vienna ; and the
          movement first-gained political im-portance when its scope was limited to the Croatian
          and Slavonic districts of Hungary, and it was endowed with the distinct task of
          resisting the imposition of Magyar as an official language. In addition to
          their representation in the Diet of the Kingdom at Presburg,
          the Croatian landowners had their own Provincial Diet at Agram.
          In this they possessed not only a common centre of
          action, but an organ of communication with the Imperial Government at Vienna,
          which rendered them some support in their resistance to Magyar pretensions.
          Later events gave currency to the belief that a conflict of races in Hungary
          was deliberately stimulated by the Austrian Court in its own interest. But the
          whole temper and principle of Metternich's rule was opposed to the development
          of national spirit, whether in one race or another; and the patronage which the
          Croats appeared at this time to receive at Vienna was probably no more than an
          instinctive act of conservatism, intended to maintain the balance of interests,
          and to reduce within the narrowest possible limits such changes as might prove
          inevitable.
   Of all the
          important measures of reform which were brought before the Hungarian Diet of
          1843, one alone had become law. The rest were either rejected by the Chamber of
          Magnates after passing the Lower House, or were thrown out in the Lower House
          in spite of the approval of the majority, in consequence of peremptory
          instructions sent to Presburg by the countyassemblies. The representative of a Hungarian
          constituency was not free to vote at his discretion ; he was the delegate of
          the body of nobles which sent him, and was legally bound to give his vote in
          accordance with the instructions -which he might from time to time receive.
          However zealous the Legislature itself, it was therefore liable to be paralysed by external pressure as soon as any question was
          raised which touched the privileges of the noble caste. This was especially the
          case with all projects involving the expenditure of public revenue. Until the
          nobles bore their share of taxation it was impossible that Hungary should
          emerge from a condition of beggarly need; yet, be the inclination of the Diet
          what it might, it was controlled by bodies of stubborn squires or yeomen in
          each county, who fully understood their own power, and stoutly forbade the
          passing of any measure which imposed a share of the public burdens upon
          themselves. The impossibility of carrying out reforms under existing conditions
          had7 been demonstrated by the failures of 1843. In order to overcome the
          obstruction as well of the Magnates as of the county-assemblies, it was
          necessary that an appeal should be made to the country at large, and that a
          force of public sentiment should be aroused which should both overmaster the
          existing array of special interests, and give birth to legislation merging them
          for the future in a comprehensive system of really national institutions. To
          this task the Liberal Opposition addressed itself; and although large
          differences existed within the party, and the action of Kossuth, who now
          exchanged the career of the journalist for that of the orator, was little
          fettered by the opinions of his colleagues, the general result did not disap-point the hopes that had been formed. Political
          associations and clubs took vigorous root in the country. The magic of
          Kossuth's oratory left every hearer a more patriotic, if not a wiser man; and
          an awakening passion for the public good seemed for a while to throw all
          private interests into the shade.
   It now became
          plain to all but the blindest that great changes were inevitable; and at the
          instance of the more intelligent among the Conservative party in Hungary the
          Imperial Government resolved to enter the lists with a policy of reform, and,
          if possible, to wrest the helm from the men who were becoming masters of the
          nation. In order to secure a majority in the Diet, it was deemed requisite by
          the Government first to gain a predominant influence in the county-assemblies.
          As a preliminary step, most of the Lieutenants of counties, to whose high
          dignity no practical functions attached, were removed from their posts, and
          superseded by paid administrators, appointed from Vienna. Count Apponyi, one of
          the most vigorous of the conservative and aristocratic reformers, was placed at
          the head of the Ministry. In due time the proposals of the Government were made
          public. They comprised the taxation of the nobles, a reform of the
          municipalities, modifications in the land-system, and a variety of economic
          measures intended directly to promote the material development of the country.
          The latter were framed to some extent on the lines laid down by Szechenyi, who now, in bitter antagonism to Kossuth,
          accepted office under the Government, and gave to it the prestige of his great
          name. It remained for the Opposition to place their own counter-proposals
          before the country. Differences within the party were smoothed over, and a
          manifesto, drawn up by Deak, gave statesmanlike
          expression to the aims of the national leaders. Embracing every reform included
          in the policy of the Government, it added to them others which the Government
          had not ventured to face, arid gave to the whole the character o£ a vindication of its own rights by the nation, in
          contrast to a scheme of administrative reform worked out by the officers of the
          Crown. Thus while it enforced the taxation of the nobles, it claimed for the
          Diet the right of control over every branch of the national expenditure. It
          demanded increased liberty for the Press, and an unfettered right of political
          association ; and finally, while doing homage to the unity of the Crown, it
          required that the Government of Hungary should be one in direct accord with the
          national representation in the Diet, and that the habitual effort of the Court
          of Vienna to place this kingdom on the same footing as the Emperor's
          non-constitutional provinces should be abandoned. With the rival programmes of the Government and the Opposition before it,
          the country proceeded to the elections of 1847. Hopefulness and enthusiasm
          abounded on every side ; and at the close of the year the Diet assembled from which
          so great a work was expected, and which was destined within so short a time to
          witness, in storm and revolution, the passing away of the ancient order of
          Hungarian life.
   The directly
          constitutional problems with which the Diet of Presburg had to deal were peculiar to Hungary itself, and did not exist in the other
          parts of the Austrian Empire. There were, however, social problems which were
          not less urgently forcing themselves upon public attention alike in Hungary and
          in those provinces which 6njoyed no constitutional rights. The chief of these
          was the condition of the peasant-population. In the greater part of the
          Austrian dominions, though serfage had long been
          abolished, society was still based upon the manorial system. The peasant held
          his land subject to the obligation of labouring on
          his lord's domain for a certain number of days in the year, and of rendering
          him other customary services: the manor-court, though checked by the neighbourhood of crown-officers, retained its jurisdiction,
          and its agents frequently performed duties of police. Hence the proposed
          extinction of the so-called feudal tie, and the conversion of the
          semi-dependent cultivator into a freeholder bound only to the payment of a
          fixed money-charge, or rendered free of all obligation by the surrender of a
          part of his holding, involved in many districts the institution of new public
          authorities and a general reorganisation of the minor
          local powers. From this task the Austrian Government had shrunk in mere
          lethargy, even when, as in 1835, proposals for change had come from the
          landowners themselves. The work begun by Maria Theresa and Joseph remained
          untouched, though thirty years of peace had given abundant opportunity for its
          completion, and the legislation of Hardenberg in 1810 afforded precedents
          covering at least part of the field.
   At length
          events occurred which roused the drowsiest heads in Vienna from their slumbers.
          The party of action among the Polish refugees at Paris had determined to strike
          another blow for the independence of their country. Instead, however, of
          repeating the insurrection of Warsaw, it was arranged that the revolt should
          commence in Prussian and Austrian Poland, and the beginning of the year 1846
          was fixed for the uprising. In Prussia the Government crushed the conspirators
          before a blow could be struck. In Austria, though ample warning was given, the
          precautions taken were insufficient. General Collin occupied the Free City of
          Cracow, where the revolutionary committee had its headquarters; but the troops
          under his command were so weak that he was soon compelled to retreat, and to
          await the' arrival of reinforcements. Meanwhile the landowners in the district
          of Tarnow in northern Galicia raised the standard of insurrection, and sought
          to arm the country. The Ruthenian peasantry, however, among whom they lived,
          owed all that was tolerable in their condition to the protection of the
          Austrian crown-officers, and detested the memory of an independent Poland.
          Instead of following their lords into the field, they gave information of their
          movements, and asked instructions from the nearest Austrian authorities. They
          were bidden to seize upon any persons who instigated them to rebellion, and to
          bring them into the towns. A war of the peasants against the nobles forthwith
          broke out. Murder, pillage, and incendiary fires brought both the Polish
          insurrection and its leaders to a miserable end. The Polish nobles, unwilling
          to acknowledge the humiliating truth that their own peasants were their
          bitterest enemies, charged the Austrian Government with having set a price on
          their heads, and with having instigated the peasants to a communistic revolt.
          Metternich, disgraced by the spectacle of a Jacquerie raging apparently under
          his own auspices, insisted, in a circular to the European Courts, that the
          attack of the peasantry upon the nobles had been purely spontaneous, and
          occasioned by attempts to press certain villagers into the ranks of the
          rebellion by brute force. But whatever may have been the measure of
          responsibility incurred by the agents of the Government, an agrarian revolution
          was undoubtedly in full course in Galicia, and its effects were soon felt in
          the rest of the Austrian monarchy. The Arcadian contentment of the rural
          population, which had been the boast, and in some degree the real strength, of
          Austria, was at an end. Conscious that the problem which it had so long evaded
          must at length be faced, the Government of Vienna prepared to deal with the
          conditions of land-tenure by legislation extending over the whole of the
          Empire. But the courage which was necessary for an adequate solution of the
          difficulty nowhere existed within the official world, and the Edict which
          conveyed the last words of the Imperial Government on this vital question
          contained nothing more than a series of provisions for facilitating voluntary
          settlements between the peasants and their lords. In the quality of this
          enactment the Court of Vienna gave the measure, of its own weakness. The
          opportunity of breaking with traditions of impotence had presented itself and
          had been lost. Revolution was at the gates; and in the unsatisfied claim of the
          rural population the Government had handed over to its adversaries a weapon of
          the greatest power.
           In the purely
          German provinces of Austria there lingered whatever of the spirit of tranquillity was still to be found within the Empire. This,
          however, was not the case in the districts into which the influence of Vienna,
          the capital extended. Vienna had of late grown out of its old careless spirit.
          The home in past years of a population notoriously pleasure-loving, good-humoured, And indifferent to public affairs, it had
          now taken something of a more serious character. The death of the Emperor
          Francis, who to the last generation of Viennese had been as fixed a part of the
          order of things as the river Danube, was not unconnected with this change in
          the public tone. So long as the old Emperor lived, all thought that was given
          to political affairs was energy thrown away. By his death not only had the State
          lost an ultimate controlling power, if dull, yet practised and tenacious, but this loss was palpable to all the world. The void stood bare
          and unrelieved before the public eye. The notorious imbecility of the Emperor
          Ferdinand, the barren and antiquated formalism of Metternich and of that entire
          system which seemed to be incorporated in him, made Government an object of
          general satire, and in some quarters of rankling contempt. In proportion as the
          culture and intelligence of the capital exceeded that of other towns, so much
          the more galling was the pressure of that part of the general system of
          tutelage which was especially directed against the independence of the mind.
          The censor-ship was exercised with grotesque stupidity. It was still the, aim
          of Government to isolate Austria from the ideas and the speculation of other
          lands, and to shape the intellectual world of the Emperor's subjects into that
          precise form which tradition prescribed as suitable for the members of a
          well-regulated State. In poetry, the works of Lord Byron were excluded from
          circulation, where custom-house officers and market-inspectors chose to enforce
          the law; in history and political literature, the leading writers of modern
          times lay under the same ban. Native production was much more effectively
          controlled. Whoever wrote in a newspaper, or lectured at a University, or
          published a work of imagination, was expected to deliver himself of something
          agreeable to the constituted authorities, or was reduced to silence. Far as
          Vienna fell short of Northern Germany in intellectual activity, the humiliation
          inflicted on its best elements by this life-destroying surveillance was keenly
          felt and bitterly resented. More perhaps by its senile warfare against mental
          freedom than by any acts of direct political repression, the Government ranged
          against itself the almost unanimous opinion of the educated classes. Its hold
          on the affection of the capital was gone. Still quiescent, but ready to unite
          against the Government when opportunity should arrive, there stood, in addition
          to the unorganised mass of the middle ranks, certain
          political associations and students’ societies, a vigorous Jewish element, and
          the usual contingent furnished by poverty and discontent in every great city
          from among the labouring population. Military force
          sufficient to keep the capital in subjection was not wanting; but the foresight
          and the vigour necessary to cope with the first onset
          of revolution were nowhere to be found among the holders of power.
   At Berlin the
          solid order of Prussian absolutism already shook to its foundation. With King
          Frederick William III, whose long reign ended in 1840, there departed the
          half-filial, half spiritless acquiescence of the nation in the denial of the
          liberties which had been so solemnly promised to it at the epoch of Napoleon's
          fall. The new Sovereign, Frederick William IV, ascended the throne amid high
          national hopes. The very contrast which his warm, exuberant nature offered to
          the silent, reserved disposition of his father pressed the public for a while
          in his favour. In the more shining personal qualities
          he far excelled all his im-mediate kindred. His artistic and literary
          sympathies, his aptitude of mind and readiness of speech, appeared to mark the
          man of a new age, and encouraged the belief that, in spite of the mediaeval
          dreams and reactionary theories to which, as prince, he had surrendered
          himself, he would, as King appreciate the needs of the time, and give to
          Prussia the free institutions which the nation demanded. The first acts of the
          new reign were generously conceived. Political offenders were freely pardoned.
          Men who had suffered for their opinions were restored to their posts in the
          Universities and the public service, or selected for promotion. But when the
          King approached the constitutional question, his utterances . were,
          unsatisfactory. Though undoubtedly in favour of some
          reform, he gave no sanction to the idea of a really national representation,
          but seemed rather to seek occasions to condemn it. Other omens of ill import
          were not wanting. Allying his Government with a narrow school of theologians,
          the King offended men of independent mind, and transgressed against the best
          traditions of Prussian administration. The prestige of the new reign was soon
          exhausted. Those who had believed Frederick William to be a man of genius now
          denounced him as a vaporous, inflated dilettante; his enthusiasm was seen to
          indicate nothing in particular; his sonorous commonplaces fell flat on second
          delivery. Not only in his own kingdom, but in the minor German States, which
          looked to Prussia as the future leader of a free Germany, the opinion rapidly
          gained ground that Frederick William IV was to be numbered among the enemies
          rather than the friends of the good cause.
   In the Edicts
          by which the last King of Prussia had promised his people a Constitution, it
          had been laid down that the representative body was to spring from the
          Provincial Estates, and that it was to possess, in addition to its purely
          consultative functions in legislation, a real power of control over all State
          loans and over all proposed additions to taxation. The interdependence of the
          promised Parliament and the Provincial Estates had been seen at the time to
          endanger the success of Hardenberg's scheme; nevertheless, it was this
          conception which King Frederick William IV made the very centre of his Constitutional policy. A devotee to the distant past, he spoke of the
          Provincial Estates, which in their present form had existed only since 1823, as
          if they were a great national and historic institution which had come down
          unchanged through centuries. His first experiment was the summoning of a
          Committee from these bodies to consider certain financial projects with which
          the Government was occupied (1842). The labours of
          the Committee were insignificant, nor was its treatment at the hands of the
          Crown Ministers of a serious character. Frederick William, however, continued
          to meditate over his plans, and appointed a Commission to examine the project
          drawn up at his desire by the Cabinet. The agitation in favour of Parliamentary Government became more and more pressing among the educated
          classes; and at length, in spite of some opposition from his brother, the
          Prince of Prussia, afterwards Emperor of Germany, the King determined to fulfil
          his father's promise and to convoke a General Assembly at Berlin. On the 3rd of
          February, 1847, there appeared a Royal Patent, which summoned all the
          Provincial Estates to the capital to meet as a United Diet of the Kingdom, The
          Diet was to be divided into two Chambers, the Upper Chamber including the Royal
          Princes and highest nobles, the Lower the representatives of the knights,
          towns, and peasants. The right of legislation was not granted to the Diet; it
          had, however, the right of presenting petitions on internal affairs.
          State-loans and new taxes were not, in time of peace, to be raised without its
          con-sent. No regular interval was fixed for the future meetings of the Diet,
          and its financial rights were moreover reduced by other provisions, which
          enacted that a United Committee from the Provincial Estates was to meet every
          four years for certain definite objects, and that a special Delegation was to
          sit each year for the transaction of business relating to the National Debt.
   The nature of
          the General Assembly convoked by this Edict, the functions conferred upon it,
          and the guarantees offered for Representative Government in the future, so
          little corresponded with the requirements of the nation, that the question was
          at once raised in Liberal circles whether the concessions thus tendered by the
          King ought to be accepted or rejected. The doubt which existed as to the
          disposition of the monarch himself was increased by the speech from the throne
          at the opening of the Diet (April ii). In a vigorous harangue extending over
          half an hour, King Frederick William, while he said much that was appropriate
          to the occasion, denounced the spirit of revolution that was working in the
          Prussian Press, warned the Deputies that they had been summoned not to advocate
          political theories, but to protect each the rights of his own order, and
          declared that no power on earth should induce him to change his natural
          relation to his people into a constitutional one, or to permit a written sheet
          of paper to intervene like a second Providence between Prussia and the
          Almighty. So vehement was the language of the King, and so uncompromising his
          tone, that the proposal was forth-with made at a private conference that the
          Deputies should quit Berlin in a body. This extreme course was not adopted; it
          was determined instead to present an address to the King, laying before him in
          respectful language the shortcomings in the Patent of February 3rd. In the
          debate on this address began the Parliamentary history of Prussia. The Liberal
          majority in the Lower Chamber, anxious to base their cause on some foundation
          of positive law, treated the Edicts of Frederick William III defining the
          rights of the future Representative Body as actual statutes of the realm,
          al-though the late King had never called a Representative Body into existence.
          From this point of view the functions now given to Committees and Delegations
          were so much illegally withdrawn from the rights of the Diet. The Government,
          on the other hand, denied that the Diet possessed any rights or claims whatever
          beyond those assigned to it by the Patent of February 3rd, to which it owed its
          origin. In receiving the address of the Chambers, the King, while expressing a
          desire to see the Constitution further developed, repeated the principle already
          laid down by his Ministers, and refused to acknowledge any obligation outside
          those which he had himself created.
           When, after a
          series of debates on the political questions at issue, the actual business of
          the Session began, the relations between the Government and the Assembly grew
          worse rather than better. The principal measures submitted were the grant of a
          State-guarantee to certain land-banks established for the purpose of
          extinguishing the rent-charges on peasants' holdings, and the issue of a public
          loan for the construction of railways by the State. Alleging that the former
          measure was not directly one of taxation, the Government, in laying it before
          the Diet, declared that they asked only for an opinion, and denied that the
          Diet possessed any right of decision. Thus challenged, as it were, to make good
          its claims, the Diet not only declined to assent to this guarantee, but set its
          veto on the proposed railway-loan. Both projects were in themselves admitted to
          be to the advantage of the State; their rejection by the Diet was an emphatic
          vindication of constitutional rights which the Government seemed indisposed to
          acknowledge. Opposition grew more and more embittered; and when, as a
          preliminary to the dissolution of the Diet, the King ordered its members to
          proceed to the election of the Committees and Delegation named in the Edict of
          February 3rd, an important group declined to take part in the elections, or
          consented to do so only under reservations, on the ground that the Diet, and
          that alone, possessed the constitutional control over finance which the King
          was about to commit to other bodies. Indignant at this protest, the King
          absented himself from the ceremony which brought the Diet to a close (June
          26th). Amid general irritation and resentment the Assembly broke up. Nothing
          had resulted from its convo-cation but a direct exhibition of the antagonism of
          purpose existing between the Sovereign and the national representatives.
          Moderate men were alienated by the doctrines promulgated from the Throne; and
          an experiment which, if more wisely conducted, might possibly at the eleventh
          hour have saved all Germany from revolution, left the Monarchy discredited and
          exposed to the attack of the most violent of its foes.
           The train was
          now laid throughout central Europe; it needed but a flash from Paris to kindle
          the fire far and wide. That the Crown which Louis Philippe owed to one popular
          outbreak might be wrested from him by another, had been a thought constantly
          present not only to the King himself but to foreign observers during the
          earlier years of his reign. The period of comparative peace by which the first
          Republican movements after 1830 had been succeeded, the busy working of the
          Parliamentary system, the keen and successful pursuit of wealth which seemed to
          have mastered all other impulses in France, had made these fears a thing of the
          past. The Orleanist Monarchy had taken its place
          among the accredited institutions of Europe; its chief, aged, but vigorous in
          mind, looked forward to the future of his dynasty, and occupied himself with
          plans for extending its influence or its sway beyond the limits of France
          itself. At one time Louis Philippe had hoped to connect his family by marriage
          with the Courts of Vienna or Berlin; this project had not met with
          encouragement ; so much the more eagerly did the King watch for opportunities
          in another direction, and devise plans for restoring the family union between
          France and Spain which had been established by Louis XIV. and which had so
          largely influenced the history of Europe down to the overthrow of the Bourbon
          Monarchy. The Crown of Spain was now held by a young girl; her sister was the
          next in succession; to make the House of Orleans as powerful at Madrid as it
          was at Paris seemed under these circumstances no impossible task to a King and
          a Minister who, in the interests of the dynasty, were prepared to make some
          sacrifice of honour and good faith.
   While the
          Carlist War was still continuing, Lord Palmerston had convinced himself that
          Louis Philippe intended to marry the young Queen Isabella, if possible, to one
          of his sons. Some years later this project was unofficially mentioned by Guizot
          to the English statesman, who at once caused it to be understood that England
          would not permit the union. Abandoning this scheme, Louis Philippe then
          demanded, by a misconstruction of the Treaty of Utrecht, that the Queen's
          choice of a husband should be limited to the Bourbons of the Spanish or
          Neapolitan line. To this claim Lord Aberdeen, who had become Foreign Secretary
          in 1841, declined to give his assent; he stated, however, that no step would be
          taken by England in antagonism to such marriage, if it should be deemed
          desirable at Madrid. Louis Philippe now suggested that his youngest son, the
          Duke of Montpensier, should wed the Infanta Fernanda, sister of the Queen of
          Spain. On the express understanding that this marriage should not take place
          until the Queen should herself have been married and have had children, the
          English Cabinet assented to the proposal. That the marriages should not be
          simultaneous was treated by both Governments as the very heart and substance of
          the arrangement, inasmuch as the failure of children by the Queen's marriage
          would make her sister, or her sister's heir, inheritor of the Throne. This was
          repeatedly acknowledged by Louis Philippe and his Minister, Guizot, in the
          course of communications with the British Court which extended over some years.
          Nevertheless, in 1846, the French Ambassador at Madrid, in conjunction with the
          Queen's mother, Maria Christina, succeeded in carrying out a plan by which the
          conditions laid down at London and accepted at Paris were utterly frustrated.
          Of the Queen's Spanish cousins, there was one, Don Francisco, who was known to
          be physically unfit for marriage. To this person it was determined by Maria
          Christina and the French Ambassador that the young Isabella should be united,
          her sister being simultaneously married to the Duke of Montpensier. So
          flagrantly was this arrangement in contradiction to the promises made at the
          Tuileries, that, when intelligence of it arrived at Paris, Louis Philippe
          declared for a moment that the Ambassador must be disavowed and disgraced.
          Guizot, however, was of better heart than his master, and asked for delay. In
          the very crisis of the King's perplexity the return of Lord Palmerston to office,
          and the mention by him of a Prince of Saxe-Coburg as one of the candidates for
          the Spanish Queen's hand, afforded Guizot a pretext for declaring that Great
          Britain had violated its engagements towards the House of Bourbon by promoting
          the candidature of a Coburg. In reality the British Government had not only
          taken no part in assisting the candidature of the Coburg Prince, but had
          directly opposed it. This, however, was urged in vain at the Tuileries.
          Whatever may have been the original intentions of Louis Philippe or of Guizot,
          the temptation of securing the probable succession to the Spanish Crown was too
          strong to be resisted. Preliminaries were pushed forward with the utmost haste,
          and on the 10th of October, 1846, the marriages of Queen Isabella and her
          sister, as arranged by the French Ambassador and the Queen-Mother, were
          simultaneously solemnised at Madrid.
   Few intrigues
          have been more disgraceful than that of the Spanish Marriages; none more
          futile. The course of history mocked its ulterior purposes; its immediate
          results were wholly to the injury of the House of Orleans. The cordial
          understanding between France and Great Britain, which had been revived after
          the differences of 1840, was now finally shattered, Louis Philippe stood
          convicted before his people of sacrificing a valuable alliance to purely
          dynastic ends; his Minister, the austere and sanctimonious Guizot, had to
          defend himself against charges which would have covered with shame the most
          hardened man of the world. Thus stripped of its garb of moral superiority,
          condemned as at once unscrupulous and unpatriotic, the Orleanist Monarchy had to meet the storm of popular discontent which was gathering over
          France as well as over neighbouring lands. For the
          lost friendship of England it was necessary to seek a substitute in the support
          of some Continental Power. Throwing himself into the reactionary policy of the
          Court of Vienna, Guizot endeavoured to establish a
          diplomatic concert from which England should be excluded, as France had been in
          1840. There were circumstances which gave some countenance to the design. The
          uncompromising vigour with which Lord Palmerston
          supported the Liberal movement now becoming so formidable in Italy made every
          absolute Government in Europe his enemy; and had time been granted, the
          despotic Courts would possibly have united with France in some more or less
          open combination against the English Minister. But the moments were now
          numbered; and ere the projected league could take substance, the whirlwind
          descended before which Louis Philippe and his Minister were the first to fall.
   A demand for
          the reform of the French Parliamentary system had been made when Guizot was
          entering upon office in the midst of the Oriental crisis of 1840. It had then
          been silenced and repressed by all the means at the disposal of the Executive;
          King Louis Philippe being convinced that with a more democratic Chamber the
          maintenance of his own policy of peace would be impossible. The demand was now
          raised again with far greater energy. Although the franchise had been lowered
          after the Revolution of July, it was still so high that not one person in a
          hundred and fifty possessed a vote, while the property-qualification which was imposed
          upon the Deputies themselves excluded from the Chamber all but men of
          substantial wealth. Moreover, there existed no law prohibiting the holders of
          administrative posts under the Govern-ment from
          sitting in the Assembly. The consequence was that more than one-third of the
          Deputies were either officials who had secured election, or representatives who
          since their election had accepted from Government appointments of greater or
          less value. Though Parliamentary talent abounded, it was impossible that a Chamber
          so composed could be the representative of the nation at large. The narrowness
          of the franchise, the wealth of the Deputies themselves, made them, in all
          questions affecting the social condition of the people, a mere club of
          capitalists; the influence which the Crown exercised through the bestowal of
          offices converted those who ought to have been its controllers into its
          dependents, the more so as its patronage was lavished on nominal opponents even
          more freely than on avowed friends. Against King Louis Philippe the majority in
          the Chamber had in fact ceased to possess a will of its own. It represented
          wealth; it represented to some extent the common-sense of France; but on all
          current matters of dispute it only represented the executive government in
          another form. So thoroughly had the nation lost all hope in the Assembly during
          the last years of Louis Philippe, that even the elections had ceased to excite
          interest. On the other hand, the belief in the general prevalence of corruption
          was every day receiving new warrant. A series of State-trials disclosed the
          grossest frauds in every branch of the administration, and proved that
          political influence was habitually used for purposes of pecuniary gain. Taxed
          with his tolerance of a system scarcely distinguishable from its abuses, the
          Minister could only turn to his own nominees in the Chamber and ask them
          whether they felt themselves corrupted; invited to consider some measure of
          Parliamentary reform, he scornfully asserted his policy of resistance. Thus,
          hopeless of obtaining satisfaction either from the Government or from the
          Chamber itself, the leaders of the Opposition resolved in 1847 to appeal to the
          country at large; and an agitation for Parliamentary reform, based on the
          methods employed by O'Connell in Ireland, soon spread through the principal
          towns of France.
   But there were
          other ideas and other forces active among the labouring population of Paris than those familiar to the politicians of the Assembly.
          Theories of Socialism, the property of a few thinkers and readers during the
          earlier years of Louis Philippe's reign, had now sunk deep among the masses,
          and become, in a rough and easily apprehended form, the creed of the poor. From
          the time when Napoleon's fall had restored to France its faculty of thought,
          and, as it were, turned the soldier’s eyes again upon his home, those
          questionings as to the basis of the social union which had occupied men's minds
          at an earlier epoch were once more felt and uttered. The problem was still what
          it had been in the eighteenth century; the answer was that of a later age.
          Kings, priests, and nobles had been overthrown, but misery still covered the
          world. In the teaching of Saint-Simon, under the Restoration, religious
          conceptions blended with a great industrial scheme; in the Utopia of Fourier,
          produced at the same fruitful period, what-ever was valuable belonged to its
          suggestions in co-operative production. But whether the doctrine propounded was
          that of philosopher, or sage, or charlatan, in every case the same leading
          ideas were visible;—the insufficiency of the individual in isolation, the
          industrial basis of all social life, the concern of the community, or of its
          supreme authority, in the organisation of labour. It was naturally in no remote or complex form that
          the idea of a new social order took possession of the mind of the workman in
          the faubourgs of Paris. He read in Louis Blanc, the latest and most
          intelligible of his teachers of the right to labour,
          of the duty of the State to provide work for its citizens. This was something
          actual and tangible. For this he was ready upon occasion to take up arms; not
          for the purpose of extending the franchise to another handful of the
          Bourgeoisie, or of shifting the profits of government from one set of
          place-hunters to another. In antagonism to the ruling Minister the Reformers in
          the Chamber and the Socialists in the streets might for a moment unite their
          forces: but their ends were irreconcilable, and the allies of today were
          necessarily the foes of tomorrow.
   At the close of
          the year 1847 the last Parliament of the Orleanist Monarchy assembled. The speech from the Throne, delivered by Louis Philippe
          himself, denounced in strong terms the agitation for Reform which had been
          carried on during the preceding months, though this agitation had, on the
          whole, been the work of the so-called Dynastic Opposition, which, while
          demanding electoral reform, was sincerely loyal to the Monarchy. The King's
          words were a challenge; and in the debate on the Address, the challenge was taken
          up by all ranks of Monarchical Liberals as well as by the small Republican
          section in the Assembly. The Government, however, was still secure of its
          majority. Defeated in the votes on the Address, the Opposition determined, by
          way of protest, to attend a banquet to be held in the Champs Elysees on the
          22nd of February by the Reform-party in Western Paris. It was at first desired
          that by some friendly arrangement with the Government, which had declared the
          banquet illegal, the possibility of recourse to violence should be avoided.
          Misunderstandings, however, arose, and the Government finally prohibited the
          banquet, and made preparations for meeting any disturbance with force of arms.
          The Deputies, anxious to employ none but legal means of resistance, now
          resolved not to attend the banquet; on the other hand, the Democratic and.
          Socialist leaders welcomed a possible opportunity for revolt. On the morning of
          the 22nd masses of men poured westwards from the workmen's quarter. The city
          was in confusion all day, and the erection of barricades began. Troops were
          posted in the streets; no serious attack, how-ever, was made by either side,
          and at nightfall quiet returned.
   On the next
          morning the National Guard of Paris was called to arms. Throughout the struggle
          between Louis Philippe and the populace of Paris in the earlier years of his
          reign, the National Guard, which was drawn principally from the trading
          classes, had fought steadily for the King. Now, however, it was at one with the
          Liberal Opposition in the Assembly, and loudly demanded the dismissal of the
          Ministers. While some of the battalions interposed between the regular troops
          and the populace and averted a conflict, others proceeded to the Chamber with
          petitions for Reform. Obstinately as Louis Philippe had hitherto refused all
          concession, the announcement of the threatened defection of the National Guard
          at length convinced him that resistance was impossible. He accepted Guizot's
          resignation, and the Chamber heard from the fallen Minister himself that he had
          ceased to hold office. Although the King declined for a while to commit the formation
          of a Ministry to Thiers, the recognised chief of the
          Opposition, and endeavoured to place a politician
          more acceptable to himself in office, it was felt that with the fall of Guizot
          all real resistance to Reform was broken. Nothing more was asked by the
          Parliamentary Opposition or by the middle-class of Paris. The victory seemed to
          be won, the crisis at an end. In the western part of the capital congratulation
          and good-humour succeeded to the fear of conflict.
          The troops fraternised with the citizens and the
          National Guard; and when darkness came on, the boulevards were illuminated as
          if for a national festival.
   In the midst,
          however, of this rejoicing, and while the chiefs of the revolutionary
          societies, fearing that the opportunity had been lost for striking a blow at
          the Monarchy, exhorted the defenders of the barricades to maintain their
          positions, a band of workmen came into conflict, accidentally or of set purpose,
          with the troops in front of the Foreign Office. A volley was fired, which
          killed or wounded eighty persons. Placing the dead bodies on a waggon, and carrying them by torchlight through the streets
          in the workmen's quarter, the insurrectionary leaders called the people to
          arms. The tocsin sounded throughout the night; on the next morning the populace
          marched against the Tuileries. In consequence of the fall of the Ministry and
          the supposed reconciliation of the King with the People, whatever military dispositions
          had been begun had since been abandoned. At isolated points the troops fought
          bravely; but there was no systematic defence.
          Shattered by the strain of the previous days, and dismayed by the indifference
          of the National Guard when he rode out among them, the King, who at every epoch
          of his long life had shown such conspicuous courage in the presence of danger,
          now lost all nerve and all faculty of action. He signed an act of abdication in favour of his grandson, the Count of Paris, and fled.
          Behind him the victorious mob burst into the Tuileries and devastated it from
          cellar to roof. The Legislative Chamber, where an attempt was made to proclaim
          the Count of Paris King, was in its turn invaded. In uproar and tumult a
          Provisional Government was installed at the Hotel de Ville; and ere the day
          closed the news went out to Europe that the House of Orleans had ceased to
          reign, and that the Republic had been proclaimed. It was not over France alone,
          it was over the Continent at large, that the tide of revolution was breaking.
   
 CHAPTER XIX.THE MARCH REVOUTION, 1848
 | 
|  |  |