lowed that in some respects his positions have been not
unsuccessfully assailed. Those who would follow up the subject are
recommended to study Ihne's _Researches into the History of the Roman
Constitution_, in which some of Niebuhr's views are energetically
combated. The main points, however, that the Agrarian laws were not
directed against private property, or aimed at placing all men on a
social equality, may be considered as established. Yet it must in candor
be admitted that the general subject is still involved in doubts, the
German commentators having thrown as much fog about some portions of the
Roman Constitution as they have thrown light upon other portions of it.]

The feeling that was allowed to have such sway in Rome, and the triumph
of which was followed with such important consequences, has often
manifested itself in modern times, in the course of great political
struggles, and has proved a powerful disturbing cause on several
occasions. One of these occasions has fallen under the observation of
the existing generation, and some remarks on it may not be out of place.

The French Revolution of 1848 was followed by an alarm on the part of
men of property, or of those whose profits depended on the integrity of
property being respected, which produced grave effects, the end whereof
is not yet. That revolution was the consequence of a movement as
purely political as the world ever saw. There was discontent with the
government of M. Guizot, which extended to the royal family, and in
which the _bourgeoisie_ largely shared, the very class upon the support
of which the House of Orleans was accustomed to rely. Had the government
yielded a little on some political points, and made some changes in the
administration, Louis Philippe might have been living at the Tuileries
at this very moment, or sleeping at St. Denis. But, insanely obstinate,
under dominion of the venerable delusion that obstinacy is firmness, the
King fell, and with him fell, not merely his own dynasty, but the whole
system of government which France had known for a generation, and
under which she was, painfully and slowly, yet with apparent sureness,
becoming a constitutional state. A warm political contest was converted
into a revolution scarcely less complete than that of 1789, and far more
sweeping than that of 1830. Perhaps there would have been little to
regret in this, had it not been, that, instead of devoting their
talents to the establishin