intended the construction of the barricades at Paris to amuse himself; but he was revolted by the 'sallow, sincere, sour' fanatics behind them: the real Montagnards, who would rather shoot him than not. It is not possible, he observes, 'to respect any one who believes in human brotherhood.' That faith is too obviously nonsensical. 'M. Buonaparte is entitled to very great praise. He has very good heels to his boots, and the French just want treading down and nothing else—calm, cruel, business-like oppression to take the dogmatic conceit out of their heads.' J. S. Mill had praised the French spirit of generalisation. That spirit had come to this, that every Parisian wanted his head tapped in order to get the formulæ and nonsense out of it. Bagehot thoroughly accepted the view of the shopkeepers, that revolutions were bad for trade, and that Louis Napoleon, who put them down, was a genuine 'Saviour of Society.' A really eloquent passage upon the power of the Catholic Church suggests the more serious side of his doctrine. You may, he tells the Freethinker, disprove the creeds as much as you please; but in the end you find that the 'poorest priest in the remote region of the Basses Alpes has more power over men's souls
