some programme of
reform which is nevertheless too progressive or reactionary, or
otherwise unsuited to the country.

In fact, nearly every revolution is preceded by an insurrection, which
is suppressed by violence, because it seeks to realise premature ideals,
and on this account is frequently followed by a counter-revolution,
provoked by reactionary elements.

Unlike revolutions, insurrections are always the work of a minority,
inspired by an excessive love or hatred of change, who seek forcibly to
establish systems or ideas rejected by the majority. Unlike revolutions,
also, they may break out for mere temporary causes--a famine, a tax, the
tyranny of some official, which suddenly disturbs the tranquil march of
daily life; in many cases they may languish and die without outside
interference.

In practice, however, it is extremely difficult to distinguish a revolt
from a revolution since the results alone determine its nature, victory
being the proof that the ideas have permeated the whole mass of the
people.

Political offenders, insurrectionists, and revolutionists are the men
who seize the standard of progress and contest every inch of the ground
with the masses, who naturally incline towards a dislike of a new order
of things. The army of progress is recruited from all ranks and
conditions--men of genius, intellectual spirits who are the first to
realise the defects of the old system and to conceive a new one,
synthesising the needs and aspirations of the people; lunatics,
enthusiastic propagandists of the new ideas, which they spread with all
the impetuous ardour characteristic of unbalanced minds; criminals, the
natural enemies of order, who flock to the standard of revolt and bring
to it their special gifts, audacity and contempt of death. These latter
types accomplish the work of destruction which inevitably accompanies
every revolution: they are the faithful and unerring arm ready to carry
out the ideas that others conceive but lack the courage to execute.

Finally, there are the saints, the men who live solely for high purposes
and to whom the revolution is a veritable apostolate. They rank high
above the mass of mankind, from whom they are frequently distinguished
by a singular beauty of countenance, recalling ancient paintings of holy
men. They are consumed by a passion for altruism and self-immolation,
and experience a strange delight in martyrdom for their ideals. These
men sweep the masses along