enied its natural development, this new spirit must now
break its bonds by violence and realize itself in a revolution.

Whence will the revolution come? how will it announce its coming? No one
can answer these questions. The future is hidden. But those who watch
and think do not misinterpret the signs: workers and exploiters,
Revolutionists and Conservatives, thinkers and men of action, all feel
that a revolution is at our doors.

Well, then,--What are we going to do when the thunderbolt has fallen?

We have all been bent on studying the dramatic side of revolutions so
much, and the practical work of revolutions so little, that we are apt
to see only the stage effects, so to speak, of these great movements;
the fight of the first days; the barricades. But this fight, this first
skirmish, is soon ended, and it only after the breakdown of the old
system that the real work of revolution can be said to begin.

Effete and powerless, attacked on all sides, the old rulers are soon
swept away by the breath of insurrection. In a few days the middle-class
monarchy of 1848 was no more, and while Louis Philippe was making good
his escape in a cab, Paris had already forgotten her "citizen king." The
government of Thiers disappeared, on the 18th of March, 1871, in a few
hours, leaving Paris mistress of her destinies. Yet 1848 and 1871 were
only insurrections. Before a popular revolution the masters of "the old
order" disappear with a surprising rapidity. Its upholders fly the
country, to plot in safety elsewhere and to devise measures for their
return.

The former Government having disappeared, the army, hesitating before
the tide of popular opinion, no longer obeys its commanders, who have
also prudently decamped. The troops stand by without interfering, or
join the rebels. The police, standing at ease, are uncertain whether to
belabour the crowd, or to cry: "Long live the Commune!" while some
retire to their quarters to "await the pleasure of the new Government."
Wealthy citizens pack their trunks and betake themselves to places of
safety. The people remain. This is how a revolution is ushered in.

In several large towns the Commune is proclaimed. In the streets wander
scores of thousands of men, and in the evening they crowd into
improvised clubs, asking: "What shall we do?" and ardently discuss
public affairs. All take an interest in them; those who yesterday were
quite indifferent are perhaps the most zealous. Everywhere t