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stacles make water froth and humanity boil. Hence arise
troubles; but after these troubles, we recognize the fact that
ground has been gained. Until order, which is nothing else
than universal peace, has been established, until harmony
and unity reign, progress will have revolutions as its halt-
ing-places.
What, then, is progress? We have just enunciated it; the
permanent life of the peoples.
Now, it sometimes happens, that the momentary life of
individuals offers resistance to the eternal life of the human
race.
Let us admit without bitterness, that the individual has
his distinct interests, and can, without forfeiture, stipulate
for his interest, and defend it; the present has its pardon-
able dose of egotism; momentary life has its rights, and is
not bound to sacrifice itself constantly to the future. The
generation which is passing in its turn over the earth, is not
forced to abridge it for the sake of the generations, its equal,
after all, who will have their turn later on.—‘I exist,’ mur-
murs that some one whose name is All. ‘I am young and
in love, I am old and I wish to repose, I am the father of a
family, I toil, I prosper, I am successful in business, I have
houses to lease, I have money in the government funds, I
am happy, I have a wife and children, I have all this, I desire
to live, leave me in peace.’—Hence, at certain hours, a pro-
found cold broods over the magnanimous vanguard of the
human race.
Utopia, moreover, we must admit, quits its radiant sphere
when it makes war. It, the truth of to-morrow, borrows its