Settling the precise terms of the decrees, which were to abolish

feudal vassalage, the question respecting the including of tithes was

agitated with most earnestness; and the objections urged against the

abolition were not only ingenious, but reasonable[27]. The abbé Sieyes

spoke with great good sense, asserting, ‘that the tithes were not a

tax levied on the nation; but a rent-charge, for which a proper

allowance had been made to the present possessors of the estates, to

not one of whom they actually belonged. He, therefore, insisted, that,

if the sacrifice were necessary, it ought to be made to the public, to

relieve the people, and not to enrich the proprietors; who were,

generally speaking, of the most opulent part of the community.’ He

advised the assembly to be on their guard, lest avarice, under the

mask of zeal, should deceive them, leading the nation to reward rather

than indemnify the nobility. The fact was, that the landed interest

were only resigning obsolete privileges, which they scarcely dared

exercise, to secure a solid advantage. Society has hitherto been

constructed in such a vicious manner, that to relieve the poor you

must benefit the rich. The present subject was a delicate one; the

abolition of tithes would remove a very heavy vexatious clog, that had

long hung on the neck of industry; yet it were to be wished, that it

could have been settled in such a way as not to have secured a great

pecuniary advantage to the nobility. For though it was physically

impossible, to make this sacrifice to society at large immediately;

because the proprietors, and more particularly the leaseholders of the

estates, could not have redeemed the tithes, without distressing

themselves to a degree, that would nearly have stopped the course of

husbandry; not to mention agricultural improvements, so necessary in

France, and to be looked for as the fruit of liberty:—yet a gradual

tax on the original landlord would have prevented the nobility from

being the great gainers by their so much extolled disinterestedness,

in their fallacious sacrifice of privileges. Because, for all real

property they were to be reimbursed; and for the obnoxious feudal

tenures, such as personal servitude, with others they were ashamed to

enumerate as being due from man to man, the tithes were an ample

indemnity; or more properly speaking clear profit, except to those who

parted with the plumes which raised them above their fellows with

great regret. It was, indeed, very difficult to separate the evil from

the good, that would redound to the nation by the doing away of this

tax.—The clergy, however, cut the debate short, by resigning their

right, offering to trust to the justice of the public for the stipend

in return necessary to enable them to support the dignity of their

function.

On the 13th, therefore, the whole discussion closed; for the other

articles did not admit of much disputation. The president accordingly

waited on the king, who received his new title with the decrees, to

which he afterwards made some objections, though the assembly considered

them as virtually sanctioned[28].

A committee of five had been employed to digest a declaration of rights,

to precede the constitution. The opinion of those, who thought that this

declaration ought to have been kept back, has already been alluded to;

yet the subject seems to require a little further consideration. And,

perhaps, it will appear just to separate the character of the

philosopher, who dedicates his exertions to promote the welfare, and

perfection of mankind, carrying his views beyond any time he chooses to

mark; from that of the politician, whose duty it is to attend to the

improvement and interest of the time in which he lives, and not

sacrifice any present comfort to a prospect of future perfection or

happiness. If this definition be just, the philosopher naturally becomes

a passive, the politician an active character. For though the desire of

loudly proclaiming the grand principles of liberty to extend them

quickly, be one of the most powerful a benevolent man, of every

description of mind, feels; he no sooner wishes to obey this impulse,

than he finds himself placed between two rocks.—Truth commands him to

say all; wisdom whispers to him to temporize.—A love of justice would

lead him to bound over these cautious restraints of prudence; did not

humanity, enlightened by a knowledge of human nature, make him dread to

purchase the good of posterity too dearly, by the misery of the present

generation.

The debates respecting the adoption of the declaration of rights became

very spirited; and much heterogeneous matter was introduced, to lengthen

the discussion, and heat the disputants, as the different articles were

reviewed. The article respecting religion particularly arrested the

attention of the assembly, and produced one of those tumultuous scenes,

which have so often disgraced their deliberations. The intolerant

sentiments uttered; and even the insertion of some amendments, which

could not, without a contradiction in terms, find a place in a

declaration of rights; proved, that the assembly contained a majority,

who were still governed by prejudices inimical to the full extent of

that liberty, which is the unalienable right of each citizen, when it

does not infringe on the equal enjoyment of the same portion by his

neighbour[29]. The most sensible part of the assembly asserted, that

religion ought not to be mentioned, unless to declare, that the free

exercise of it was a right in common with the free utterance of all

opinions; which came under civil cognizance only when they assumed a

form, namely, when they produced effects, that clashed with the laws;

and even then it was the criminal action, not the passive opinion, which

was proscribed by the penalty of punishment.

In this declaration are found the principles of political and civil

liberty, introduced by a very solemn exordium:—Declaring ‘that, as

ignorance, forgetfulness, and contempt of the rights of men, are the

sole causes of public grievances, and of the corruption of governments,

the assembly had resolved to re-establish, in a solemn declaration, the

natural, imprescriptible, and sacred rights of man; in order that this

declaration, constantly present to all the members of the social body,

may continually remind them of their rights, and of their duties; that,

having it in their power every moment to compare the acts of the

legislative and executive authorities with the purpose of all political

institutions, they may the more respect them; and that the remonstrances

of the citizens, founded, in future, on simple and incontestible

principles, may always tend to support the constitution, and to promote

the happiness of the whole community.’

Some temporary business, towards restoring public tranquillity, and to

give force to the laws, insulted by the licentious conduct of men

inebriated merely by the expectation of freedom, scented from afar,

being dispatched, the formation of a constitution became the standing

labour of the assembly.

The first question naturally fell under this head—what share of power

ought the king to be allowed to possess in the legislature? This was an

important consideration for men, who were all politicians in theory; and

many of whom, having suffered under the absolute sway of the king’s

ministers, still felt the smart of their oppression, and a contempt for

the power that authorized their dominion: whilst the blind zealots for

the indefeasible rights of kings, though they were ashamed of the

phrase, heated the imagination of their party, by the most inflated

encomiums on the benefits arising from extensive kingly prerogatives,

and vapid remarks on the british constitution, and other forms of

government, obviously to display their erudition. The most noisy

indecorus debates ensued, and the assembly seemed to meet rather to

quarrel than deliberate. A division the most decided consequently took

place; which, under different appellations, and professing different

principles, has ever since continued to convulse the senate; if the

legislative assembly, or the convention, deserve a name so dignified.

In discussing whether the royal sanction should be necessary to the

validity of the acts of the legislative body, a variety of extraneous

subjects, and others prematurely brought forward, so entangled the main

question, as to render it difficult to give a clear and brief account of

the debates; without lending a degree of reasonableness to them, that

the manner of arguing, rudely personal, and loudly uncivil, seemed to

destroy. For good lungs soon became more necessary in the assembly than

sound arguments, to enable a speaker to silence the confusion of

tongues; and make known his opinion to men, who were eager only to

announce their own. Thus modest men had no chance to be heard, though

persuasion dwelt on their lips: and even Mirabeau, with his commanding

eloquence, and justness of thought, procured attention as much by the

thundering emphasis, which he gave to his periods, as by his striking

and forcible association of ideas.

As a nation, the french are certainly the most eloquent people in the

world; their lively feelings giving the warmth of passion to every

argument they attempt to support. And speaking fluently, vanity leads

them continually to endeavour to utter their sentiments, without

considering whether they have any thing to recommend them to notice,

beside a happy choice of expressions. Only thinking then of speaking,

they are the most impatient of hearers, coughing, hemming, and scraping

with their feet, most audibly, to beguile the time. Laying aside also,

in the assembly, not only their national politeness, but the common

restraints of civility; good manners seldom supply the place of reason,

when they are angry. And as the slightest contradiction sets them on

fire, three parts out of four of the time, which ought to have been

employed in serious investigation, was consumed in idle vehemence.

Whilst the applauses and hisses of the galleries increased the tumult;

making the vain still more eager to mount the stage. Thus every thing

contributing to excite the emotions, which lead men only to court

admiration, the good of the people was too often sacrificed to the

desire of pleasing them. And so completely was the tide of their

affection for the king turned, that they seemed averse to his having any

portion of legislative authority in the new constitution.

The duke de Liancourt divided the question respecting the share of power

he was to enjoy as a part of the government. _1st. Is the royal sanction

indispensably necessary, to give the actual force of law to the decrees

of the national assembly? 2dly. Ought the king to be an integrant

portion of the legislature?_ In England the phrase _royal assent_ has

been adopted, as expressive of a positive act; but the french, rather

choosing to distinguish the same act of power by a negative, fixed on

the latin word _veto_, _I forbid_. And then it became a question, how

far this _veto_ ought to extend, supposing the prince to be invested

with it.—Was it decisively to obstruct the enaction of a law passed by

the legislative body? or only to suspend it, till an appeal could be

made to the people by a new election?

The assembly in this instance seem to have acted with strange confusion

of mind, or a total ignorance of the nature of a mixed government: for

either the question was nugatory, or a king useless. Lally-Tolendal,

Mounier, and Mirabeau, argued for the absolute _veto_.—‘Two powers,’

says Mirabeau, ‘are necessary to the existence of the body-politic, in

the orderly discharge of it’s functions:—To will—and to act. By the

first, society establishes the regulations which ought all to conspire

to one end—the good of all:—By the second, these regulations are carried

into execution; and public authority is exerted, to make society triumph

over the obstacles, which might arise from the opposite wills of

individuals. In a great nation, these two powers cannot be exercised by

the people: whence comes the necessity of representatives, to exercise

the faculty of willing, or the legislative power; and also of another

species of representation, to exercise the faculty of acting; or, the

executive power.’

He further insists, that ‘the possession of this power is the only way

to render a king useful, and to enable him to act as a check on the

legislative body: the majority of which might tyrannize in the most

despotic manner, even in the senate, to the very expulsion of the

members, who dared to thwart the measures they could not approve. For

under a weak prince, a little time and address alone would be necessary,

to establish legally the dominion of an army of aristocrats; who, making

the royal authority only the passive instrument of their will, might

replunge the people into their old state of debasement.

‘The prince, therefore, being the perpetual representative of the

people, as the deputies are their representatives elected at certain

periods, is equally their safe-guard.

‘No person exclaims against the _veto_ of the national assembly; which

is, in reality, only a right the people have confided in their

representatives, to oppose every proposition, that would tend to

re-establish ministerial despotism. Why then object to the _veto_ of the

prince, which is but another right, especially confided in him by the

people, because he and they are equally interested to prevent the

establishment of an aristocracy?’

He proceeds to prove, ‘that, whilst the legislative body is respectable,

the _veto_ of the king cannot do harm, though it is a salutary check on

their deliberations; and granting, that the influence of the crown has a

tendency to increase, a permanent assembly would be a sufficient

counterpoise for the royal negative. Let us,’ he concludes, ‘have an

annual national assembly, let ministers be made responsible; and the

royal sanction, without any specified restrictions, but, in fact,

perfectly limited, will be the palladium of national liberty, and the

most precious exercise of the liberty of the people.’

Having suffered by the abuse of absolute power, many of the deputies,

afraid to entrust their constitutional monarchs with any, opposed the

_veto_; lest it should palsy the operations of the national assembly,

and bring back the old despotism of the cabinet. The discussion likewise

extending beyond it’s walls, was as superficially and as warmly treated

by those, who thought only of the old government, when they talked of

framing a new one. And as the people were now led by hot-headed men, who

found it the shortest way to popularity, to deliver exaggerated elogiums

on liberty, they began to look for a degree of freedom in their

government, incompatible with the present state of their manners; and of

which they had no perfect idea. It is not then surprising, that it

should become a mark of patriotism, to oppose the _veto_; though

Mirabeau never gave a stronger proof of his, than in supporting it;

convinced that it was the interest of the people he was espousing,

whilst he risked their favour.

The will of the public was, in reality, so decided, that they would

scarcely allow the _veto_ to be mentioned; and the assembly, to steer a

middle course, adopted the _suspensive veto_; after considering some

other important elements of the constitution, which seemed to them to be

intimately connected with the royal prerogative.

Certainly a few of the most judicious deputies must have perceived the

impolicy of the _suspensive veto_; and they could only have agreed to

fall into the measure, under an idea that the minds of the people not

being completely ripe for a total change of government—from absolute

despotism to complete republicanism, it was politically necessary still

to maintain the shadow of monarchy. ‘To assign,’ says one of the

deputies, ‘a term to the _veto_, is at last to force the king to execute

a law of which he disapproves: and making him thus a blind and passive

instrument, a secret war is fomented between him and the national

assembly. It is, in short, to refuse him the _veto_; though those who

refuse it have not the courage openly to say, that France has no longer

any need of a king.’

But, from the commencement of the revolution, the misery of France has

originated from the folly or art of men, who have spurred the people on

too fast; tearing up prejudices by the root, which they should have

permitted to die gradually away. Had they, for example, allowed the king

to have enjoyed the share in the government promised by the _absolute

veto_, they would have let him gently down from the altitude of

unlimited sway, without making him feel the ground he lost in the

descent. And this semblance of his former authority would have gratified

him; or rather, breaking his fall, have induced him to submit patiently

to other restraints, less humiliating to him, though more beneficial to

the people. For it is evident from experience, and might have been

foreseen, that the determination on this question was one grand source

of the continual bickerings of the assembly with the court and ministry;

who took care to make the king see, that he was set up as an idol,

merely to receive the mock respect of the legislative body, till they

were quite sure of the people.

Could it, indeed, have been ascertained, that Louis, or rather the

queen, would have tamely born with such a diminution of power, this

measure might have been deemed prudent; because it was then morally

certain, that the monarchy would have expired naturally with the

dissolution of the king. But, when the pride and restless spirit of the

queen were well known; and that it was probable, from the whole tenour

of her former life, she would contrive to have the ministry composed of

the most dissolute and headstrong men; it must appear the height of

folly only to have left the king the power of perplexing their

proceedings, after they had piqued his pride. And when, to give, as it

were, efficiency to the conspiracies, which would naturally be formed by

the courtiers, to recover the authority rest from them, we find they

afterwards voted such an enormous sum to defray the civil list, as was

sufficient to move like puppets hundreds of the corrupt french; it must

be confessed, that their absurdity and want of discernment appear not

less reprehensible, than the subsequent conduct of the court flagitious.

The constitutional committee had given it as their opinion, that the

contested _veto_ did not concern the national assembly then existing;

which, being a constituting body, it was their duty to see that the

constitution was accepted, not sanctioned. This report carries with it

an air of imbecility, which renders it almost incredible: for, if the

assembly were determined to oblige the king to accept their decrees,

they had better have told him so with becoming dignity, and made

provision for his retiring from a post in which he was useless. Instead

of this, he was in a manner shuffled off the throne; and treated with

cruelty as well as contempt. It would have been at least ingenuous, and

might be deemed magnanimous, had they allowed him to retire with a third

of the stipend, which they afterwards voted him, when he continued to

appear like a theatrical king, only to excite the pity of the vulgar,

and to serve as a pretext for the despots of Europe to urge in

justification of their interference. The liberating an imprisoned

monarch was a plausible motive, though the real one was obviously to

stop the progress of principles, which, once permitted to extend

themselves, would ultimately sap the foundation of their tyranny, and

overturn all the courts in Europe. Pretending then only to have in view

the restoration of order in France, and to free an injured king, they

aimed at crushing the infant brood of liberty.

Similar sentiments must have occurred to every thinking person, who ever

seriously reflected on the conduct of the germanic courts, which has

actually destroyed the tranquillity of Europe for centuries past. War is

the natural consequence of their wretched systems of government.—They

are supported by military legions; and without wars they could not have

veteran soldiers. Their aggrandisement then, and half-lived pleasures,

cast in a mould of ceremony, spring out of the miseries, and are

fostered by the blood of human beings; whom they have sacrificed with as

much _sang froid_, sending them in herds to slaughter, as the

hard-hearted savage romans viewed the horrid spectacle of their

prize-fighters; from the bare idea of which the mind turns, disgusted

with the whole empire, and particularly with the government that dared

to boast of it’s heroism and respect for justice, when not only

tolerating, but encouraging such enormities.

To the sympathizing princes of the continent, therefore, the king should

have been given up; or, if it were necessary to humour the prejudice of

the nation, and still suffer frenchmen to have a most christian king, or

_grand monarque_, to amuse them by devouring capons or partridges before

them; it would have been but just, both in reason and policy, to have

allowed him such a portion of liberty and power, as would have formed a

consistent government. This would have prevented those clamours, which

were sure to draw together an host of enemies, to impede the settlement

of rational laws; flowing from a constitution, that would peaceably have

undermined despotism, had it been allowed gradually to change the

manners of the people. Though had this power been granted, it might have

been productive perhaps of great inconveniences; as it is not likely,

that a court accustomed to exercise unbridled sway would contentedly

have co-operated with the legislature, when possessing only reasonable

prerogatives.

Some apprehensions of this kind may have occurred to the assembly:

though it rather appears, that they were either influenced by a

ridiculous pride, not being willing to take the british constitution, so

far as it respected the prerogative, for their model; or intimidated by

the people, who, during the long debate, had outrageously expressed

their will, and even handed about a list of proscriptions, in which the

_vetoists_ were denounced as traitors worthy of death. Be this as it

may, they determined on a half-way measure, that irritated the court

without appeasing the people. Having previously decreed, that the

national assembly should be permanent, that is always existing, instead

of being dissolved at the close of every session, they resolved, that

the _veto_ of the king should suspend the enaction of a law only during

two legislatures. ‘The wisdom of this law,’ says Rabaud, ‘was

universally acknowledged:’ though the folly of it rather merited

universal reprobation.

From the manner indeed, in which the assembly was constituted, it was to

be dreaded, that it’s members would not long sustain the dignity, with

which they commenced the career of their business: because the party,

that opposed with such bitterness the junction of the three orders,

still opposing with rancorous heat, and wily stratagems, every measure

proposed by the really patriotic members, were indirectly seconded by

the insincere and wavering; who, having no motive to govern their

conduct, but the most detestable selfishness, the offspring of vanity or

avarice, always took the side best calculated to gratify the crude

wishes of the multitude. And this unyoked multitude, now suddenly

initiated into the science of civil and natural rights, all become

consummate politicians, began to control the decisions of a divided

assembly, rendered timid by intestine broils.

There were besides many circumstances, which tended to make any attempt

to counteract this influence very difficult. At the meeting of the

states-general, the whole court party, with the greater proportion of

both the nobility and clergy, were in opposition to the third-estate:

and though the number of the latter was equal to that of the other two

orders, they had also to contend with the inveterate prejudices of ages.

The court had thought only of devising means to crush them; and had the

soldiery acted with the blind zeal common to men of this profession, it

would of itself have been sufficient to have completely disconcerted

their views. This conduct of the cabinet, and the discovery of the

atrocious conspiracy, which had been formed against the people and their

idolized representatives, provoking the resentment and vengeance of the

nation, palsied all authority, and rendered the laws that had emanated

from it contemptible. To oppose this torrent of opinions, like an

impetuous current, that after heavy rains, defying all resistance, bears

away on it’s raging bosom every obstacle, required the most enlightened

prudence and determined resolution.

So much wisdom and firmness seldom fall to the lot of any country: and

it could scarcely have been expected from the depraved and volatile

french; who proudly, or ignorantly, determining to follow no political

track, seem to have fixed on a system proper only for a people in the

highest stage of civilization;—a system of itself calculated to

disorganize the government, and throw embarrassments into all it’s

operations. This was an errour so gross, as to demand the severest

animadversions. For this political plan, ever considered as utopian by

all men who had not traced the progress of reason, or calculated the

degree of perfectibility the human faculties are capable of attaining,

was, it might be presumed, the most improper for the degenerate society

of France. The exertions of the very admirers of the revolution were,

likewise, far from being permanent; and they could hardly have been

expected to possess sufficient virtue to support a government, the

duration of which they at least feared would be short. The men termed

experienced believed it physically impossible; and no arguments were

cogent enough to convince them of the contrary: so that, they leaving

the task to mock patriots and enthusiasts, a fresh odium has been thrown

on principles, which, notwithstanding are gaining ground. Things must be

left to their natural course; and the accelerating progress of truth

promises to demonstrate, what no arguments have hitherto been able to

prove.

The foundation of liberty was laid in the declaration of rights; the

first three articles of which contain the great principles of natural,

political, and civil liberty.—First, that men are born, and always

continue, free, and equal in respect to their rights:—civil

distinctions, therefore, can be founded only on public utility.

Secondly, the end of all political associations is the preservation of

the natural and imprescriptible rights of man: which rights are—liberty,

property, security, and resistance of oppression. Thirdly, the nation is

the source of all sovereignty: no body of men, no individual, can then

be entitled to any authority, which is not derived from it. The first

article, establishing the equality of man, strikes at the root of all

useless distinctions:—the second, securing his rights against

oppression, maintains his dignity:—and the third, acknowledging the

sovereignty of the nation, confirms the authority of the people.—These

are the essential points of a good government: and it is only necessary,

when these points are ascertained by a nation, and solemnly ratified in

the hearts of it’s citizens, to take care, in the formation of a

political system, to provide against the abuse of the executive part;

whilst equal caution should be observed, not to destroy it’s efficiency,

as on that depend it’s justice, vigour, and promptitude. The other

articles are explanatory of the nature and intent of these rights, and

ought to have had more attention paid to them, when the structure was

raised, to which they served as a basis.

Whilst defining the authority of the king, or rather determining, that

he should have no authority, unless the option of disturbing the

legislation deserve that name, they debated the question of two chambers

with equal inconsideration, and all the puerile self-sufficiency of

ignorance. The opposers of two chambers, without allowing, that there

was any political wisdom in appointing one house of representatives to

reconsider the resolves of the other, ridiculed the idea of a balance of

power, and instanced the abuses of the english government to give force

to their objections. At the same time fearing, that the nobles of the

court would contend for an hereditary senate, similar to the british

house of peers; or, at least, for a seat during life, paramount to the

representatives who they determined should be elected every two years;

they fought to bring the business to a speedy issue. The very division

of the nobility served to hasten it, and strengthened the arguments of

the popular members; who finding that they could rely on the concurrence

of the parish-priests, whose wishes in favour of the unity of the

assembly were quickly betrayed by the opinions of their leading orators,

demanded the decision of a question, that had been agitated in the most

tumultuous manner.

Mirabeau wished to prove, that the decision of the question respecting

the permanency of the assembly had prejudged that of the two chambers;

and the plan of a senate, proposed by the constitutional committee, only

excited fresh apprehensions, that the ancient hydra would again rear

it’s head. They represented this senate as the cradle of a new

aristocracy; as a dangerous counterpoise to popular violence, because it

would still foster the prejudices, which produced inequalities amongst

men, and give continual play to the overbearing passions, that had

hitherto degraded mankind. And to show previously their entire

disinterestedness, as well as fear of allowing the exercise of power to

become familiar, much less necessary to any members of the community,

they unanimously voted, that for each legislature, the name given to the

meeting of the representatives, a total change of the deputies should

take place.

The very nobility, in fact, were far from being united in support of two

chambers. The order was a numerous one: and to establish an equality of

privileges, it was necessary, that they should all concur to elect the

upper chamber, as the representatives of the whole body; whilst the

nobles of the court, and of the ancient houses, secretly indulged the

hope of establishing a peerage; which would not only raise them above

the commons, but keep at a proper distance the upstart nobility, with

whom they had heretofore impatiently jostled. There was even another

cause of jealousy: for it was presumed, that the forty-seven nobles, who

first joined the assembly, would now be rewarded. In short, the idle

fears and more contemptible vanity of the different parties now operated

so much in favour of an indivisible senate, that the question was

decided by a great majority, to the entire satisfaction of the public,

who were almost as eager for one chamber, as averse to the _veto_.

The deputies, who opposed the upper chamber to promote the good of

society, did it from a belief, that it would be the asylum of a new

aristocracy; and from a total ignorance, or obscurity of ideas,

respecting it’s utility. Whilst the oppressions of the feudal system

being still present to the minds of the people, they considered a

division of the legislative body as inconsistent with the freedom and

equality they were taught to expect as the prime blessings of a new

constitution. The very mention of _two chambers_ carried them back to

the old dispute, respecting the negative of the different orders; and

seemed to subvert the revolution. Such fears, degenerating into

weakness, can only be accounted for by recollecting the many cruel

thraldoms, from which they had so recently escaped. Besides, the

remembrance of their former servitude, and the resentment excited by the

late struggle to prove they were men, created in their enthusiastic

imaginations such a multitude of horrours, and fantastic images of new

dangers, as did not allow them to exercise the full powers of their

reason. So that to convince them of the propriety of a new institution,

and heat the supporters of it, nothing more was necessary, than to show,

that it was the very reverse of those maintained by the partizans of the

old government.

The wisdom of giving to the executive part of a government an absolute

_veto_ might very justly have been questioned; as it seems to be giving

a power to one man to counteract the will of a whole people—an absurdity

too gross to merit refutation. Still, whilst crowns are a necessary

bauble to please the multitude, it is also necessary, that their

dignity, should be supported, in order to prevent an overweening

aristocracy from concentrating all authority in themselves. This seems

to have been expedient, likewise, as long as the manners of barbarians

remained: as savages are naturally pleased with glass and beads, in

proportion as they afford a striking contrast to the rude materials of

their own fabrication.

In the progressive influence of knowledge on manners, both dress and

governments appear to be acquiring simplicity; it may therefore be

inferred, that, as the people attain dignity of character, their

amusements will flow from a more rational source than the pageantry of

kings, or the view of the fopperies exhibited at courts. If these have

been supported hitherto by childish ignorance, they seem to be losing

their influence, as the understanding of the world approaches to

manhood: for, as they grow wiser, the people will look for the solid

advantages of society; and watching with sufficient vigilance their own

interest, the _veto_ of the executive branch of the government would

become perfectly useless; though in the hands of an unprincipled, bold

chief magistrate, it might prove a dangerous instrument. In forming a

representative plan of government it appears necessary then to take care

only, that it be so constructed, as to prevent hasty decisions; or the

carrying into laws dangerous, impolitic measures, which have been urged

by popular declaimers, who are too apt to gain an ascendancy in a

numerous assembly. Until the principles of governments become

simplified, and a knowledge of them be disseminated, it is to be feared,

that popular assemblies will often be influenced by the fascinating

charms of eloquence: and as it is possible for a man to be eloquent

without being either wise or virtuous, it is but a common precaution of

prudence in the framers of a constitution, to provide some check to the

evil.

Besides, it is very probable, in the same state of reason, that a

faction may arise, which will control the assembly; and, acting contrary

to the dictates of wisdom, throw the state into the most dangerous

convulsions of anarchy: consequently, it ought to form a primary object

with a constituting assembly, to prevent, by some salutary contrivance,

the mischief flowing from such sources. The obvious preventative is a

second chamber, or senate, which would not, it is most likely, be under

the influence of the same faction; and it is at least certain, that it’s

decisions would not be directed by the same orators. The advantage would

be more certain if business were not conducted in the two chambers in a

similar manner. Thus by making the most numerous assembly the most

active, the other would have more time to weigh the probable consequence

of any act or decree, which would prevent those inconveniences; or, at

least, many of them, the consequence of haste or faction.

This system in an old government is susceptible of improvement. The

minds of young men generally having more fire, activity, and invention,

it would be politically wise to restrict the age of the senators to

thirty-five, or forty years; at which period of life they most likely

would have gone through a certain routine of business; and become more

sage, and steady, they would be better calculated to decide respecting

the policy, or wisdom of the acts of the chamber of representatives.

It is true France was in such a state at the time of the revolution,

that a like improvement could not have been instantly carried into

execution, because the aristocratical influence was justly to be

dreaded. The constituting assembly then should have remained

indivisible; and as the members became in some measure acquainted with

legislative business, they would have prepared senators for the upper

chamber. All the future legislatures being divided into two chambers, a

house of representatives, and a senate, the members of the national

assembly might have been permitted to be elected for the senate, though

they should not have attained the age prescribed; for the restriction

needed not to have taken place until the government found it’s level,

and even then, the members of the preceding house of representatives

might have been allowed to be returned for the senate.

It has been a common remark of moralists, that we are the least

acquainted with our own characters. This has been literally the case

with the french: for certainly no people stand in such great need of a

check; and, totally destitute of experience in political science, it

must have been clear to all men of sound understanding, that some such

plan alone would have enabled them to avoid many fatal errours.

The first efforts of the national assembly were truly magnanimous; but

the character of the men was too light, to maintain the same heroism,

when not warmed by passion—too giddy, to support with grave dignity the

splendour of sudden glory. Their vanity was also unbounded; and their

false estimate of disinterestedness of conduct, whilst they betrayed

puerility of sentiment, was not among the least of the misfortunes,

which have befallen that unhappy country. Their hearts had been too long

sophisticated, to suggest the best mode of communicating freedom to

millions; and their heads were still less calculated to lay down a

practicable plan of government, adapted to the state of knowledge of the

age. So much so, that they seem to have selected from books only the

regulations proper for a period of perfect civilization.

The revolutions of states ought to be gradual; for during violent or

material changes it is not so much the wisdom of measures, as the

popularity they acquire by being adapted to the foibles of the great

body of the community, which gives them success.—Men are most easily led

away by the ingenious arguments, that dwell on the equality of man, and

these are always employed by the different leaders of popular

governments.

Whilst the most ingenious theorists, or desperate partizans of the

people, take advantage of this infirmity of our nature, the consequences

must sometimes prove destructive to society, is they do not end in the

most dreadful anarchy. For when the members of a state are not directed

by practical knowledge, every one produces a plan of polity, till the

confusion becomes general, and the nation plunges into wretchedness,

pursuing the schemes of those philosophers of genius who, advancing

before their age, have sketched the model of a perfect system of

government. Thus it happened in France, that Hume’s idea of a perfect

commonwealth, the adoption of which would be eligible only when

civilization has arrived at a much greater degree of perfection, and

knowledge is more generally diffused than at the present period, was

nevertheless chosen as the model of their new government, with a few

exceptions, by the constituent assembly: which choice doubtless

proceeded from the members not having had an opportunity to acquire a

knowledge of practical liberty. Some of the members, it is true, alluded

to the improvements made by the americans on the plan of the english

constitution; but the great majority, despising experience, were for

forming, at once, a system much more perfect. And this self-sufficiency

has produced those dreadful outrages, and attacks, made by the

anarchists of that country, on personal liberty, property, and whatever

else society holds sacred.

These melancholy considerations seem to me to afford irrefragable

arguments, to prove that it is necessary for all governments, which have

for their object the happiness of the people, to make the power of

altering peaceably a fundamental principle of their constitution.

Still, if the attempt to carry prematurely into execution the sublime

theory, which has occupied some of the best heads to form, have afforded

an opportunity to superficial politicians, to condemn it as absurd and

chimerical, because it has not been attended with immediate success, the

advocates for the extension of truth and reason ought not to despair.

For when we contemplate the slow improvement, that has been made in the

science of government; and, that even the system of the british

constitution was considered, by some of the most enlightened ancients,

as the sublimest theory the human mind was able to conceive, though not

reducible to practice, they should not relax in their endeavours to

bring to maturity a polity more simple—which promises more equal

freedom, and general happiness to mankind.

CHAPTER II.

OBSERVATIONS ON THE VETO. THE WOMEN OFFER UP THEIR ORNAMENTS TO THE

PUBLIC. DEBATE WHETHER THE SPANISH BRANCH OF THE BOURBONS COULD REIGN IN

FRANCE. CONDUCT OF THE KING RESPECTING THE DECREES OF THE FOURTH OF

AUGUST. VANITY OF THE FRENCH. DEBATES ON QUARTERING A THOUSAND REGULARS

AT VERSAILLES. INDIVIDUALS OFFER THEIR JEWELS AND PLATE TO MAKE UP THE

DEFICIENCY OF THE LOAN. THE KING SENDS HIS RICH SERVICE OF PLATE TO THE

MINT. NECKER’S PROPOSAL FOR EVERY CITIZEN TO GIVE UP A FOURTH OF HIS

INCOME. SPEECH OF MIRABEAU ON IT. HIS ADDRESS TO THE NATION.

After the national assembly had determined, that the legislative body

should consist of one house, to be renewed every two years, they appear

to have had some suspicion of the impolicy of the decree; but not

allowing themselves time to comprehend the use of a senate taken from

the body of the people, they attempted to silence the fears, some

moderate men entertained, of the bad consequences which might arise from

the decisions of an impetuous assembly without a check, by assuring

them, that the delay, the _veto_ would occasion, was a sufficient

counterpoise. They represented the king’s _veto_ as the negative

archetype of the national will; adding, that it would be the duty of the

sovereign to examine with vigilance the justice or wisdom of their

decrees; and by the exertion of his power prevent the hasty

establishment of any laws inimical to the public good. So easy is it for

men to frame arguments, to cover the homely features of their own

folly—so dangerous is it to follow a refined theory, however feasible it

may appear, when the happiness of an empire depends on it’s success; and

so inconsiderately did the national assembly act in this great business,

that they did not wait even to determine the precise meaning of the word

_sanction_.

If the king then represented the negative will of the nation, which the

assembly pretended to say he did; and if he possessed the supreme wisdom

and moderation necessary to guaranty that will, which supposing he did

not, it was a folly too gross to require any comment; in the name of

common sense—why was his _veto suspensive_?

The truth is obvious,—the assembly had not sufficient courage to take a

decided part.—They knew, that the king and court could not be depended

upon; yet they had not the magnanimity to give them up altogether. They

justly dreaded the depravity and influence of the nobles; but they had

not the sagacity to model the government in such a manner, as would have

defeated their future conspiracies, and rendered their power nugatory;

though they had the example of the Thirteen States of America before

them, from which they had drawn what little practical knowledge of

liberty they possessed.—But, no; the regeneration of France must lead to

the regeneration of the whole globe. The political system of frenchmen

must serve as a model for all the free states in the universe!—_Vive la

liberté_ was the only cry—and _la bagatelle_ entered into every

debate—whilst the whole nation, wild with joy, was hailing the

commencement of the golden age.

The women too, not to be outdone by the roman dames, came forward,

during this discussion, to sacrifice their ornaments for the good of

their country. And this fresh example of public spirit was also given by

the third-estate; for they were the wives and daughters of artizans, who

first renounced their female pride—or rather made one kind of vanity

take place of another. However, the offering was made with theatrical

grace; and the lively applauses of the assembly were reiterated with

great gallantry.

Another interruption had likewise occurred, of a more serious

nature.—For after they had decreed, with an unanimous voice—That _the

person of the king is sacred and inviolable_, that _the throne is

indivisible_; that _the crown is hereditary, in the males of the

reigning family, according to the order of primogeniture, to the

perpetual exclusion of females_, a deputy proposed, that, before going

any further, they should decide ‘whether the branch reigning in Spain

could reign in France, though it had renounced the crown of the latter

kingdom by the most authentic treaties.’

Several of the most respectable members represented, that this was a

delicate business, with which it was impolitic to meddle at present, and

as unnecessary as imprudent. Mirabeau was of this opinion; but when he

found, that much time was likely to be consumed in idle debates, and

contemptible vehemence, he endeavoured to cut the matter short by moving

a new question—namely, ‘that no one could reign in France, who was not

born in the kingdom.’

But nothing could prevent the agitation of the same subject for three

days; prolonged either by the fears of one party, or the desire of

another to embroil the assembly, and retard the formation of a

constitution. Mirabeau made several severe, but just remarks, on the

character of Louis XIV, whose ambition had produced the dispute; and

reprobated with dignity, their manner of treating a people, as if they

were the property of a chief. Should any difficulty arise, in future, he

maintained, that the nation would then be competent to judge of it; and

had an equal right to determine the succession, as to choose a new

system of government.

The assembly, though generally so inattentive to the suggestions of

sound policy, despising moderation, became now beyond measure

scrupulous. Some deputies represented the danger of alienating to the

english the commerce of Spain, by disgusting it’s court; and others

anticipated the intestine troubles, which a doubt respecting the

unchangeable descent of the crown might produce. At last they resolved

to add to the declaration, respecting the monarchy, that they did not

mean to make the decree, _by any means prejudge the effect of

renunciations_.

Whilst they were settling these things in the assembly, the refractory

nobles and clergy were intriguing to prevent the king from giving his

assent to the promulgation of the decrees of the 4th of august. The

royal _sanction_ had been demanded before the import of the word was

scanned; and the court taking advantage of this ambiguity, made the king

pretend he misunderstood the demand; and imagined that they merely asked

for his opinion, and not to know his will. Instead then of a simple

monosyllable, he replied by a memoire. He approved, in general, of the

spirit of these determinations; but entered into an investigation, more

or less copious, of every article. He weighed the advantages and

inconveniences; and pointed out precautions and modifications, which

appeared to him necessary to realize the former and prevent the latter.

He objected particularly to the abolition of some rents; which, though

substitutes for personal service, were now actual property; he suggested

some difficulty that might attend the abolition of tithes; and hinted,

that the german princes, who had possessions in Alsace, secured to them

by treaty, might resent the infringement. In answer to the last

objection, a member observed, that the inhabitants of this province, who

had long been sinking under the weight of these privileges, daily

augmented by the connivance of ministers, had inserted an article in

their instructions expressly demanding the abolition of this destructive

system; which reduced them to despair, and forced them continually to

emigrate. Several of the deputies wished to have the king’s reply

referred to the examination of a committee; yet, a great majority

insisting, that the decrees of the 4th of august were not new laws, to

be carried into force by the executive power, but abuses which it was

absolutely necessary to clear away before the formation of the

constitution, demanded their immediate promulgation. Accordingly they

resolved, that the president should wait on the king and request him

immediately to order the promulgation of the decrees; assuring him at

the same time, that the national assembly, when considering each article

separately, would pay the most scrupulous attention to the observations

communicated by his majesty.

This imperative petition had the desired effect, and the king acceded,

the 20th of september, to their will, sanctioning decrees he did not

approve.

This was the first glaring instance of the constituting assembly acting

contrary to it’s pretensions; and the king, long in the habit of

dissembling, always yielding to the pressure of remonstrances, no matter

from what quarter they came, with criminal insincerity acknowledging

himself a cipher, laid the foundation of his own insignificancy, by

ordering the promulgation of decrees, which he believed were

incompatible with justice, and might involve the french monarchy in

disagreeable disputes with foreign princes, when peace was particularly

necessary to calm it’s internal convulsions.

If a chief magistrate be of any consequence to a state, his wisdom ought

to appear in the dignity and firmness of his actions.—But, if he be

considered as the fountain of justice and honour, and do not possess the

abilities and magnanimity of a common man, in what a wretched light must

he be viewed by the eyes of discernment and common sense?—And, if the

framers of a constitution create a power that must continually act at

variance with itself, they not only undermine the pillars of their own

fabric, but they insert the scion of a disease the most destructive to

truth and morals.

After complying with this compulsatory request, Louis, who, finding that

he was left without any share of power, seems to have thought very

little of his _suspensive veto_, determined to play a part that would

give an air of sincerity to his present conduct, whilst his object was

secretly to favour the efforts of the counter-revolutionists; and if

possible effect his own escape.—But, in the mean time, he endeavoured to

make such use of it as might prevent the total derangement of the old

system, without unveiling his secret views, and intentions. It is

difficult to determine which was the most reprehensible, the folly of

the assembly, or the duplicity of the king. If Louis were without

character, and controlled by a court without virtue, it amounted to a

demonstration, that every insidious mean would be employed by the

courtiers to reinstate the old government; and recover, if possible,

their former splendour and voluptuous ease. For, though they were

dispersed, it was notorious to all France, nay, to all Europe, that a

constant correspondence was kept up between the different parties, and

their projects concerted by one of the most intriguing of disappointed

men[30]. It was obvious, therefore, to Mirabeau, that the king ought to

be gained over to the side of the people; and made to consider himself

as their benefactor, in order to detach him from the cabal. But in this

respect he was unfortunately over-ruled. This mixture of magnanimity,

and timidity, of wisdom and headstrong folly, displayed by the assembly,

appears, at the first view, to involve such a contradiction, that every

person unacquainted with the french character would be ready to call in

question the truth of those undeniable facts, which crowd on the heels

of each other during the progress of the great events, that formed the

revolution. A superficial glance over the circumstances, will not enable

us to account for an inconsistency, which borders on improbability.—We

must, on the contrary, ever keep in our thoughts, that, whilst they were

directed in their political plans, by a wild, half comprehended theory,

their sentiments were still governed by the old chivalrous sense of

honour, which diffusing a degree of romantic heroism into all their

actions, a false magnanimity would not permit them to question the

veracity of a man, on whom they believed they were conferring favours;

and for whom they certainly made great allowance, if they did not

forgive him for countenancing plots, which tended to undermine their

favourite system.

It is, perhaps, the characteristic of vanity, to become enamoured with

ideas, in proportion as they were remote from it’s conception, until

brought to the mind by causes so natural, as to induce it to believe,

that they are the happy and spontaneous flow of it’s own prolific brain.

Their splendour then eclipsing his judgment, the man is hurried on by

enthusiasm and self-sufficiency, like a ship at sea, without ballast or

helm, by every breath of wind: and, to carry the comparison still

further, should a tempest chance to rise in the state, he is swallowed

up in the whirlpools of confusion, into the very midst of which his

conceit has plunged him; as the vessel, that was not prepared to stem

the violence of a hurricane, is buried in the raging surge.

The occasions of remarking, that frenchmen are the vainest men living,

often occur, and here it must be insisted on; for no sooner had they

taken possession of certain philosophical truths, persuading themselves,

that the world was indebted to them for the discovery, than they seem to

have overlooked every other consideration, but their adoption. Much evil

has been the consequence; yet France is certainly highly indebted to the

national assembly for establishing many constitutional principles of

liberty, which must greatly accelerate the improvement of the public

mind, and ultimately produce the perfect government, that they vainly

endeavoured to construct immediately with such fatal precipitation.

The consideration of several other articles of the constitution was

continually interrupted, and not more by the variety of business, which

came under the cognizance of the assembly, than by the want of a proper

arrangement of them. Much time was lost in disputing about the choice of

subjects of deliberation; and the order in which they ought to proceed.

The business of the day was perpetually obliged to give place to

episodical scenes; and men, who came prepared to discuss one question,

being obliged to turn to another, lost in some measure the benefit of

reflection, and the energy, so different from the enthusiasm of the

moment, with which a man supports a well digested opinion.

Two or three slight debates had arisen on the subject of quartering a

thousand men, of the regular troops, at Versailles. The commandant of

the guards had requested permission of the municipality; pointing out

the necessity for the security of the town, the national assembly, and

the person of the king. The necessity did not appear so obvious to the

public, and, in fact, the demand seemed calculated to provoke the

tumults, against which they were so officiously guarding. Mirabeau also

observed, ‘that the executive power had undoubtedly a right to augment

the military force, in any particular place, when private information,

or urgent circumstances, appeared to require it; and that the

municipality had, likewise, a right to demand the troops they judged

necessary; yet he could not help thinking it singular, that the

ministers should have entrusted the municipality with a secret, which

they did not communicate to the assembly,—who might be supposed at least

as anxious to take every precaution for the safety of the town and the

king’s person.’ To these pertinent remarks no attention was paid; and a

letter from the mayor of Paris, informing the assembly, that a great

number of the districts of the metropolis had remonstrated against the

introduction of regular troops into Versailles, to awe the national

guards, was equally neglected; whilst a letter to the president, in the

name of the king, informing him, that he had taken the different

measures necessary to prevent any disturbances in the place where the

national assembly were sitting, was thrown aside without any comment.

The loan still failing, several individuals made magnificent presents;

sacrificing their jewels and plate, to relieve the wants of their

country. And the king sent his rich service to the mint, in spite of the

remonstrances of the assembly.—The disinterestedness of this action, it

is absurd to talk of benevolence, may fairly be doubted; because, had he

escaped, and the escape was then in contemplation, it would have been

confiscated; whilst the voluntary offer was a popular step, which might

serve for a little time to cover this design, and turn the attention of

the public from the subject of the reinforcement of the guards to the

patriotism of the king.

These donations, which scarcely afforded a temporary supply, rather

amused than relieved the nation; though they suggested a new plan to the

minister. Necker, therefore, incapable of forming any great design for

the good of the nation, yet calculating on the general enthusiasm, which

pervaded all descriptions and ranks of people, laid before the assembly

the ruinous state of the finances, proposing at the same time, as the

only mode of remedying the evil, to require of the citizens a

contribution of one-fourth of their income. The assembly was startled by

this proposal, but Mirabeau, believing that the people would now grant

whatever their representatives required, prevailed on the assembly, by a

lively representation of the perilous state of the kingdom, to adopt the

only plan of salvation which had yet been suggested—insisting, that this

was the only expedient to avoid an infamous national bankruptcy. ‘Two

centuries of depredations and pillage,’ he exclaimed, ‘have hollowed out

an immense gulph, in which the kingdom will soon be swallowed. It is

necessary to fill up this frightful abyss. Agreed!—Choose out the rich,

that the sacrifice may fall on the fewer citizens; but, determine

quickly! There are two thousand notables, who have sufficient property

to restore order to your finances, and peace and prosperity to the

kingdom. Strike; immolate without pity these victims!—precipitate them

into the abyss—it is going to close on them—ye draw back, with

horrour—ye men! pusillanimous and inconsistent!—and see ye not in

decreeing a bankruptcy, or, which is still more contemptible, rendering

it inevitable, ye are sullied by an act a thousand times more criminal?’

But it is impossible to do justice to this burst of eloquence, in a

translation; besides, the most energetic appeals to the passions always

lose half their dignity, or, perhaps, appear to want the support of

reason, when they are coolly perused.—Nothing produces conviction like

passion—it seems the ray from heaven, that enlightens as it warms.—Yet

the effect once over, something like a fear of having been betrayed into

folly clings to the mind it has most strongly influenced; and an obscure

sense of shame lowers the spirits that were wound up too high.

From the whole tenour of this speech it is clear, that Mirabeau was in

earnest; and that he had fired his imagination, by considering this plan

as an act of heroism, that would ennoble the revolution, and reflect

lasting honour on the national assembly. In this extemporary flow of

eloquence, probably the most simple and noble of modern times, mixed

none of the rhetoric which frequently entered into his studied

compositions; for his periods were often artfully formed;—but it was the

art of a man of genius. He proposed to the assembly to address their

constituents on this occasion; and he was accordingly requested to

prepare an address for their consideration.

His address to the nation is, indeed, a master-piece; yet, being written

to persuade, and not spoken to carry a point immediately, and overwhelm

opposition, there is more reasoning in it; and more artful, though less

forcible, appeals to the passions. And, though this expedient appears to

be the most wild that folly could have blundered upon, the arguments

ought to be preserved with which it was glossed over.

To expect a man to give the fourth of what he lived on; and that in the

course of fifteen months, leaving it to him to make the estimate, was

expecting that from virtue, which could only have been produced by

enthusiasm. All the ancient acts of heroism, were excited by the spur of

present danger; and of this kind of virtue the french were equally

capable; yet, though the plan afforded them an opportunity to give a

splendid proof of their patriotism, it by no means answered; because, it

being the effect rather of temper than of principle, selfishness had

time to find a plausible pretext to elude it; and vanity is seldom

willing to hide it’s good works in the common measure.

As the removing the national assembly to Paris forms an epocha in the

history of the revolution, it seems proper to close this chapter with

Mirabeau’s address.

‘The deputies of the national assembly suspend a while their labours to

lay before their constituents the wants of the state, and to call upon

their patriotism to second the measures, which a country in danger

demands.

‘It were betraying you to dissemble. Two ways are open—the nation may

stride forward to the most glorious pre-eminence, or fall head-long into

a gulph of misfortune.

‘A great revolution, the very plan of which some months ago would have

appeared chimerical, has taken place amongst us. Accelerated by

unforeseen circumstances, the momentum has suddenly overthrown our

ancient institutions. Without allowing us time to prop what must be

preserved, or to replace what ought to be destroyed, it has at once

surrounded us with ruins.

‘Our efforts to support the government are fruitless, a fatal numbness

cramps all it’s powers. The public revenue is no more; and credit cannot

gain strength at a moment, when our fears equal our hopes.—This spring

of social power unbent, has weakened the whole machine; men and things,

resolution, courage, and even virtue itself, have lost their tension. If

your concurrence do not speedily restore life and motion to the

body-politic, the grandest revolutions, perishing with the hopes it

generated, will mingle again in the chaos, whence noble exertions have

drawn it; and they, who shall still preserve an unconquerable love of

liberty, will refuse to unworthy citizens the disgraceful consolation of

resuming their fetters.

‘Since your deputies have buried all their rivalry, all their contending

interests, in a just and necessary union, the national assembly has

laboured to establish equal laws for the common safety. It has repaired

great errours, and broken the links of countless thraldoms, which

degraded human nature: it has kindled the flame of joy and hope in the

bosoms of the people, the creditors of earth and nature, whose dignity

has been so long tarnished, whose hearts have been so long discouraged:

it has restored the long-obscured equality of frenchmen, estabblished

their common right to serve the state, to enjoy it’s protection, to

merit it’s rewards: in short, conformably to your instructions, it is

gradually erecting, on the immutable basis of the imprescriptible rights

of man, a constitution mild as nature, lasting as justice, and the

imperfections of which, the consequence of the inexperience of it’s

authors, will easily be repaired. We have had to contend with the

inveterate prejudices of ages, whilst harassed by the thousand

uncertainties which accompany great changes. Our successors will have

the beaten track of experience before them; we have had only the compass

of theory to guide us through the pathless desert. They may labour

peaceably; though we have had to bear up against storms. They will know

their rights, and the limits of their power: we have had to recover the

one, and to fix the other. They will consolidate our work—they will

surpass us—What a recompense! Who shall dare, mean while, to assign

limits to the grandeur of France? Who is not elevated by hope? Who does

not felicitate himself on being a citizen of it’s empire?

‘Such, however, is the crisis of the finances, that the state is

threatened with dissolution before this grand order of things can find

it’s centre. The cessation of the revenue has banished specie. A

thousand circumstances hasten it’s exportation. The sources of credit

are exhausted; and the wheels of government are almost at a stand. If

patriotism then step not forward to the succour of government, our

armies, our fleets, our subsistence, our arts, our trade, our

agriculture, our national debt, our country itself, will be hurried

towards that catastrophe, when she will receive laws only from disorder

and anarchy—Liberty would have glanced on our sight, only to disappear

for ever, only to leave behind the bitter consciousness, that we did not

merit the possession. And to our shame, in the eyes of the universe, the

evil could be attributed solely to ourselves. With a soil so fertile,

industry so productive, a commerce so flourishing, and such means of

prosperity—what is this embarrassment of our finances? Our wants amount

not to the expence of a summer’s campaign—and our liberty, is it not

worth more than those senseless struggles, when even victory has proved

ruinous?

‘The present difficulty overcome, far from burdening the people, it will

be easy to meliorate their condition. Reductions, which need not

annihilate luxury; reforms, which will reduce none to indigence; a

commutation of the oppressive taxes, an equal assessment of the impost,

together with the equilibrium which must be restored between our revenue

and our expenditure; an order that must be rendered permanent by our

vigilant superintendency.—These are the scattered objects of your

consolatory perspective.—They are not the unsubstantial coinage of

fancy; but real, palpable forms—hopes capable of proof, things

subordinate to calculation.

‘But our actual wants—the paralysis of our public strength, the hundred

and sixty extra millions necessary for this year, and the next—What can

be done? The prime minister has proposed as the great lever of the

effort, which is to decide the kingdom’s fate, a contribution

proportional to the income of each citizen.

‘Between the necessity of providing instantly for the exigencies of the

public, and the impossibility of investigating so speedily the plan

before us; fearing to enter into a labyrinth of calculations, and seeing

nothing contrary to our duty in the minister’s proposal, we have obeyed

the dictates of our consciences, presuming they would be yours. The

attachment of the nation to the author of the plan, appeared to us a

pledge of it’s success; and we confided in his long experience, rather

than trust to the guidance of our speculative opinions.

‘To the conscience of every citizen is left the valuation of his income:

thus the effect of the measure depends on your own patriotism. When the

nation is bursting from the nothingness of servitude to the creation of

liberty—when policy is about to concur with nature in unfolding the

inconceivable grandeur of her future destiny—shall vile passions oppose

her greatness? interest stay her flight? and the salvation of the state

weigh less than a personal contribution?

‘No; such madness is not in nature; the passions even do not listen to

such treacherous reckonings. If the revolution, which has given us a

country, cannot rouse some frenchmen out of the torpor of indifference,

at least the tranquillity of the kingdom, the only pledge of their

individual security, will influence them. No; it is not in the whirl of

universal overthrow, in the degradation of tutelary authority, when a

crowd of indigent citizens, shut out from the work-shops, will be

clamouring for impotent pity; when the soldiery disbanded will be

forming itself into hungry gangs of armed plunderers, when property will

be violated with impunity, and the very existence of individuals

menaced—terrour and grief waiting at the door of every family—it is not

amidst such complicated wretchedness, that these cruel and selfish men

will enjoy in peace the hoards which they denied their country. The only

distinction that awaits them, in the general wreck, will be the

universal opprobrium they deserve, or the useless remorse that will

corrode the inmost recesses of their hearts.

‘Ah! how many recent proofs have we of the public spiritedness, which

renders all success so easy! With what rapidity was formed the national

militia, those legions of citizens armed for the defence of the country,

the preservation of tranquillity, and the maintenance of the laws! A

generous emulation has beamed on all sides. Villages, towns, provinces,

have considered their privileges as odious distinctions, and solicited

the honour of depriving themselves of peculiar advantages, to enrich

their country. You know it: time was not allowed to draw up the mutual

concessions, dictated by a purely patriotic sentiment, into decrees; so

impatient was every class of citizens to restore to the great family

whatever endowed some of it’s members to the prejudice of others.

‘Above all, since the embarrassment of our finances, the patriotic

contributions have increased. From the throne, the majesty of which a

beneficent prince exalts by his virtues, has emanated the most

striking example.—O thou, so justly the dearly beloved of thy

people—king—citizen—man of worth! it was thine to cast a glance over

the magnificence that surrounded thee, and to convert it into national

resources. The objects of luxury which thou hast sacrificed, have

added new lustre to thy dignity; and whilst the love of the french for

thy sacred person makes them murmur at the privation, their

sensibility applauds thy magnanimity; and their generosity will repay

thy beneficence by the return it covets, by an imitation of thy

virtues, by pursuing thy course in the career of public utility.

‘How much wealth, congealed by ostentation into useless heaps, shall

melt into flowing streams of prosperity! How much the prudent economy of

individuals might contribute to the restoration of the kingdom! How many

treasures, which the piety of our forefathers accumulated on the altars

of our temples, will forsake their obscure cells without changing their

sacred destination! “This I set apart, in times of prosperity;” says

religion; “it is fitting that I dispense it in the day of adversity. It

was not for myself—a borrowed lustre adds nothing to my greatness—it was

for you, and the state, that I levied this honourable tribute on the

virtues of your forefathers.”

‘Who can avoid being affected by such examples? What a moment to display

our resources, to invoke the aid of every corner of the empire!—O

prevent the shame, with which the violation of our engagements, our most

sacred engagements, would stain the birth of freedom! Prevent those

dreadful shocks, which, in overturning the most solid institutions, and

shattering the most established fortunes, would leave France covered

with the sad ruins of a shameful hurricane. How mistaken are those, who

at a certain distance from the capital contemplate not the links, which

connect public faith with national prosperity, and with the social

contract! They who pronounce the infamous term bankruptcy, are they not

rather a herd of ferocious beasts, than a society of men just and free?

Where is the frenchman who will dare to look his fellow citizens in the

face, when his conscience shall upbraid him with having contributed to

empoison the existence of millions of his fellow creatures? Are we the

nation to whose honour it’s enemies bear witness, who are about to sully

the proud distinction by a _BANKRUPTCY_?—Shall we give them cause to

say, we have only recovered our liberty and strength to commit, without

shuddering, crimes which paled even the cheek of despotism?

‘Would it be any excuse to protest, that this execrable mischief was not

premeditated? Ah! no: the cries of the victims, whom we shall scatter

over Europe, will drown our voice. Act then!—Be your measures swift,

strong, sure. Dispel the cloud, that lowers over our heads, the gloom of

which sheds terrour into the hearts of the creditors of France.—If it

burst, the devastation of our national resources will be more tremendous

than the terrible plague, which has lately ravaged our provinces.

‘How will our courage in the exercise of the functions, you have

confided to us, be renewed! With what vigour shall we labour in forming

the constitution, when secured from interruption! We have sworn to save

our country—judge of our anguish, whilst it trembles on the verge of

destruction. A momentary sacrifice is sufficient; a sacrifice offered to

the public good, and not to the encroachments of covetousness. And is

this easy expiation of the faults and blunders of a period, stigmatized

by political servitude, above our strength? Think of the price which has

been paid for liberty by other nations, who have shown themselves worthy

of it:—for this, rivers of blood have streamed—long years of woe, and

horrid civil wars, have every where preceded the glorious birth!—Of us

nothing is required, but a pecuniary sacrifice—and even this vulgar

offering is not an impoverishing gift:—it will return into our bosom, to

enrich our cities, our fields; augmenting our national glory and

prosperity.’

CHAPTER III.

REFLECTIONS ON THE NEW MODE OF RAISING SUPPLIES. NO JUST SYSTEM OF

TAXATION YET ESTABLISHED. PAPER MONEY. NECESSITY OF GRADUAL REFORM.

The task certainly was very difficult, at this crisis, for a minister to

give satisfaction to the people, and yet supply the wants of the state;

for it was not very likely that the public, who had been exclaiming

against the incessant demands of the old government, would have been

pleased with new burdens, or patiently endured them. Still it is always

the height of folly in a financier, to attempt to supply the exigencies

of government by any but specific and certain means: for such vague

measures will ever produce a _deficit_, the consequences of which are

most pernicious to public credit and private comfort.

A man, who has a precise sum to live upon, generally takes into his

estimate of expences a certain part of his income as due to the

government, for the protection and social advantages it secures him.

This proportion of his income being commonly the same from period to

period, he lays it by for that particular purpose, and contentedly

enjoys the remainder. But, should a weak minister, or a capricious

government, call on him for an additional sum, because the taxes have

proved unproductive, either through the inability of some of the members

of the state, or that they were laid on articles of consumption, and the

consumption has not been equal to the calculation; it not only deranges

his schemes of domestic economy, but may be the cause of the most

serious inconvenience.

A man who has a limited income, and a large family, is not only obliged

to be very industrious to support them, but he is likewise necessitated

to make all his arrangements with the greatest circumspection and

exactness; because a trifling loss, by involving him in debt, might lead

to his ruin, including that of his family. The rich man, indeed, seldom

thinks of these most cruel misfortunes; for a few pounds, more or less,

are of no real importance to him. Yet the poor man, nay even the man of

moderate fortune, is liable to have his whole scheme of life broken by a

circumstance of this kind, and all his future days embittered by a

perpetual struggle with pecuniary vexations.

Governments, which ought to protect, and not oppress mankind, cannot be

too regular in their demands; for the manner of levying taxes is of the

highest importance to political economy, and the happiness of

individuals. No government has yet established a just system of

taxation[31]: for in every country the expences of government have

fallen unequally on the citizens; and, perhaps, it is not possible to

render them perfectly equal, but by laying all the taxes on land, the

mother of every production.

In this posture of affairs, the enthusiasm of the french in the cause of

liberty might have been turned to the advantage of a new and permanent

system of finance. An able, bold minister, who possessed the confidence

of the nation, might have recommended with success the taking of the

national property under the direct management of the assembly; and then

endeavouring to raise a loan on that property, he would have given

respectability to the new government, by immediately procuring the

supplies indispensably necessary not only to keep it, but to put it in

motion.

In times of civil commotion, or during a general convulsion, men who

have money, and they are commonly most timid and cautious, are very apt

to take care of it, even at the expence of their interest; and,

therefore, it was to be presumed, that the monied men of France would

not have been very ready to subscribe to the different loans proposed by

the minister, unless the security had been obvious, or the speculative

advantages exorbitant. But if Necker, whom the prudent usurer adored as

his tutelar god, had said to the nation ‘there is a property worth

4,700,000,000 _l._ independent of the property of the emigrants, take it

into your immediate possession; and, whilst the sales are going on, give

it as a guarantee for the loan you want. This just and dignified measure

will not only relieve your present necessities, but it will be

sufficient to enable you to fulfil great part of your former

engagements.’ There would have been then no need of the eloquence of

Mirabeau; reason would have done the business; and men, attending to

their own interest, would have promoted the public good, without having

their heads turned giddy by romantic flights of heroism.

The immediate and incessant wants of a state must always be supplied;

prudence therefore, requires, that the directors of the finances should

rather provide by anticipation for it’s wants than suffer a _deficit_.

The government being once in arrears, additional taxes become

indispensable to bring forward the balance, or the nation must have

recourse to paper notes; an expedient, as experience has shown, always

to be dreaded, because by increasing the debt it only extends the evil.

And this increasing debt, like a ball of snow, gathering as it rolls,

soon attains a wonderful magnitude. Every state, which has unavoidably

accumulated it’s debt, ought, provided those at the helm wish to

preserve the government, and extend the security and comforts of it’s

citizens, to take every just measure to render the interest secure, and

to fund the principal; for as it augments, like the petrifying mass, it

stands in the way of all improvement, spreading the chilling miseries of

poverty around—till the evil baffling all expedients, a mighty crash

produces a new order of things, overwhelming, with the ruins of the old,

thousands of innocent victims.

The precious metals have been considered as the best of all possible

signs of value, to facilitate the exchange of commodities, to supply our

reciprocal wants: and they will ever be necessary to our comfort, whilst

by the common consent of mankind they are the standards of exchange.

Gold and silver have a specific value, because it is not easy to

accumulate them beyond a certain quantity. Paper, on the contrary, is a

dangerous expedient, except under a well established government: and

even then the business ought to be conducted with great moderation and

sagacity.—Perhaps it would be wise, that it’s extent should be

consistent with the commerce of the country, and the quantity of species

actually in it—But it is the spirit of commerce to stretch credit too

far. The notes, also, which are issued by a state before it’s government

is well established, will certainly be depreciated; and in proportion as

they grow precarious, the gold and silver, which was formerly in

circulation will vanish, and every article of trade, and all the

comforts of life, will bear a higher price.

These are considerations, which ought to have occurred to the french

minister, and have led him to take decided measures. The interest of the

national debt was 255,395,141 _l._ by a report for the year

1792.—Necker, by his account dated the 1st of may, 1789, states the

income at 475,294,000 _l._, and the expences at 531,533,000 _l._:

consequently there was a deficiency of 56,239,000 _l._; and it was not

probable, it could not even be expected, that during the convulsions of

a revolution, the taxes would be regularly paid: the debt, then, and the

demands of the state, must increase.

The credit of every government greatly depends on the regulation of it’s

finances; and the most certain way to have given stability to the new

system, would have been by making such arrangements as would have

insured promptitude of payment. No minister ever had it so much in his

power to have taken measures glorious for France, beneficial to Europe,

happy for the people of the day, and advantageous to posterity. No

epocha, since the inflated system of paper (the full blown bladders of

public credit, which may be destroyed by the prick of a pin) was

invented, ever appeared so favourable as that juncture in France, to

have overturned it completely: and by overlooking these circumstances,

the nation has probably lost most of the advantages, which her finances

might have gained by the revolution.

Such mistakes, whilst they involve in them a thousand difficulties,

prove the necessity of gradual reform; lest the light, suddenly

breaking-in on a benighted people, should overpower the understanding it

ought to direct. The line in which Necker had been accustomed to move,

by restraining what little energy his mind was capable of exerting,

precluded the possibility of his seeing the faint lines marked on an

expansive scale, which afforded the data for calculations; and the

nation, confiding to him the direction of a business for which he had

not sufficient talents, seems to have contemplated in imagination a

prospect, which has not yet been realized; and whilst expectation

hovered on it’s margin, the dazzling scenery was obscured by clouds the

most threatening and tremendous.

These are evils that from the beginning of time have attended

precipitate and great changes. The improvements in philosophy and morals

have been extremely tardy. All sudden revolutions have been as suddenly

overturned, and things thrown back below their former state. The

improvements in the science of politics have been still more slow in

their advancement than those of philosophy and morals; but the

revolution in France has been progressive. It was a revolution in the

minds of men; and only demanded a new system of government to be adapted

to that change. This was not generally perceived; and the politicians of

the day ran wildly from one extreme to the other, without recollecting,

that even Moses sojourning forty years in the wilderness could but

conduct the jews to the borders of the promised land, after the first

generation had perished in their prejudices; the most inveterate sins of

men.

This is not a discouraging consideration. Our ancestors have laboured

for us; and we, in our turn, must labour for posterity. It is by tracing

the mistakes, and profiting from the discoveries of one generation, that

the next is able to take a more elevated stand. The first inventor of

any instrument has scarcely ever been able to bring it to a tolerable

degree of perfection; and the discoveries of every man of genius, the

optics of Newton excepted, have been improved, if not extended, by their

followers.—Can it then be expected, that the science of politics and

finance, the most important, and most difficult of all human

improvements; a science which involves the passions, tempers, and

manners of men and nations, estimates their wants, maladies, comforts,

happiness, and misery, and computes the sum of good or evil flowing from

social institutions; will not require the same gradations, and advance

by steps equally slow to that state of perfection necessary to secure

the sacred rights of every human creature?

The vanity and weakness of men have continually tended to retard this

progress of things: still it is going forward; and though the fatal

presumption of the headstrong french, and the more destructive ambition

of their foreign enemies, have given it a check, we may contemplate with

complacent serenity the approximation of the glorious era, when the

appellations of fool and tyrant will be synonymous.

AN

HISTORICAL AND MORAL VIEW

OF THE

FRENCH REVOLUTION.

_BOOK V._

CHAPTER I.

ERROUR OF THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY IN NEGLECTING TO SECURE THE FREEDOM OF

FRANCE. IT’S CONDUCT COMPARED WITH THAT OF THE AMERICAN STATES.

NECESSITY OF FORMING A NEW CONSTITUTION AS SOON AS AN OLD GOVERNMENT IS

DESTROYED. THE DECLARING THE KING INVIOLABLE A WRONG MEASURE. SECURITY

OF THE FRENCH AGAINST A COUNTERREVOLUTION. THE FLIGHT OF THE KING

MEDITATED.

The conduct of the assembly in losing so much time—the most precious

time to secure the happiness of their country, and enable the present

generation to participate in the blessings they were preparing for

posterity, instead of having to encounter all the miseries of anarchy,

can never be sufficiently lamented. France had already gained her

freedom; the nation had already ascertained certain, and the most

important, political truths: it ought, therefore, to have been the next

consideration, how these were to be preserved, and the liberty of the

empire consolidated on a basis that time would only render more firm.

Moderate men, or real patriots, would have been satisfied with what had

been gained, for the present, allowing the rest to follow progressively.

It was the most political and the most reasonable way to secure the

acquisition. In this situation France had to contend with the prejudices

of half Europe, at least, and to counteract the influence of the

insidious intriguers, who were opposing themselves to her regeneration;

to facilitate which the assembly ought to have made it one of their main

objects to render the king contented with the change; and then the

machinations of all the underminers of the revolution, would not have

loosened one fundamental stone, to endanger the rising edifice.

Such is the difference between men acting from a practical knowledge,

and men who are governed entirely by theory, or no principle whatever.

Most of the United States of America formed their separate constitutions

within a month, and none took more than three, after the declaration of

their independence by congress. There certainly was a vast distinction

between those States, then the colonies of Great Britain, and France

after the 14th of july; but both countries were without a government.

America with an enemy in the heart of their empire, and France

threatened with an attack. The leading men of America, however, knew,

that there was a necessity of having some kind of government, and seem

to have perceived the ease, with which any subsequent alterations could

be effected. The members of the national assembly, on the contrary,

found themselves surrounded with ruins; and aiming at a state of

perfection for which the minds of the people were not sufficiently

mature; affecting likewise to be directed by a magnanimous

disinterestedness, they not only planted the germ of the most dangerous

and licentious spirit, but they continued to irritate the desperate

courtiers, who, having determined to oppose stratagem to force, and not

succeeding, rested all their future hopes on the king’s escape.

The liberty of the press, which had been virtually established, at this

period, was a successful engine employed against the assembly. And to a

nation celebrated for epigrammatic fancy, and whose taste had been so

refined by art, that they had lost the zest of nature, the simplicity of

some of the members, their awkward figures, and rustic gait, compared

with the courtly mien, and easy assurance of the chevaliers of

Versailles, afforded an excellent subject. Some of these satires were

written with considerable wit, and such a happy turn of caricature, that

it is impossible not to laugh with the author, though indirectly

ridiculing the principles you hold sacred. The most respectable decrees,

the most important, and serious discussions, were twisted into jests;

which divided the people without doors into two distinct parties; one,

speaking of the assembly with sovereign contempt, as a set of upstarts

and babbling knaves; and the other, setting up new thrones for their

favourites, and viewing them with blind admiration, as if they were a

synod of demi-gods. The contenancing of this abuse of freedom was

ill-judged. The different parties were already sufficiently heated; yet

it would have been impossible, perhaps, to have restrained the temper of

the times, so strong is the intoxication of a new folly, though it would

have been easy for the assembly to have passed a decree respecting

libels. But so ardent was become their passion for liberty, that they

were unable to discriminate between a licentious use of that important

invention, and it’s real utility. Treating then with an untimely disdain

the many abusive publications, which were sold within the very walls

where they were sitting, they were not aware of the effect which they

produced on the minds of mock heroes, who, having no principle but

honour, were ready to risk their lives to sooth distressed beauty, no

matter what produced it; or to alleviate the sufferings of a king,

though the consequence of his turpitude or tergiversation.

After the wreck of a government the plan of a new constitution ought to

be immediately formed, that is, as soon as circumstances will possibly

admit, and presented to the citizens for their acceptance; or rather the

people should depute men for that purpose, and give them a limited time

for framing one. A constitution is a standard for the people to rally

round. It is the pillar of a government, the bond of all social unity

and order. The investigation of it’s principles makes it a fountain of

light; from which issue the rays of reason, that gradually bring forward

the mental powers of the whole community. And whenever the wheels of

government, like the wheels of any other machine, are found clogged, or

do not move in a regular manner, they equally require alteration and

improvement: and these improvements will be proportionably perfect as

the people become enlightened.

The authority of the national assembly had been acknowledged nearly

three months previous to this epocha, without their having taken any

decided steps to secure these important ends. Indeed it does not appear

to have been their first object. They seem not to have known, or at

least not to have been apprehensive, that, in proportion to the length

of time that the people are without an established government,

anarchists gain an ascendancy over their minds; and it then becomes no

easy task to form a constitution adapted to their wayward tempers.

When a few fundamental principles are ascertained, and the state has

determined that they shall form the basis of it’s polity, it seems to be

no difficult matter to give motion to the new springs of government. It

is true, that many of the prejudices of frenchmen were still inveterate,

and in some measure influenced them; and it is also certain, that their

total ignorance of the operations of any rational system of government

was an impediment to this motion; but it is nevertheless to be presumed,

that, the liberty of frenchmen having been previously secured by the

establishment of the declaration of rights, if the assembly had formed

some kind of a constitution, and proposed it to the nation, and to the

king, if he were considered as forming a part of it, for their

acceptation, the dispute between the people and court would have been

brought to a speedy issue; and the public attention directed to a point

would have given dignity and respectability to their proceedings. If

such measures had been followed, and it appears a little strange they

were not, most probably the king and court, perceiving that their future

consequence wholly depended on their acquiescence with the state of

reason, and temper of the times, would have relinquished all those

absurd and dangerous projects for overturning the rising political

fabric of the nation, which anarchy fostered.

It is the pillars of a building, which indicate it’s durability, and not

the minor beams that are inserted through them, in order to rear the

structure. The natural, civil, and political rights of man are the main

pillars of all social happiness; and by the firm establishment of them,

the freedom of men will be eternally secured. The moment, therefore, a

state has gained those important and sacred privileges, it is clear,

that it ought to form some kind of government, grounded upon this firm

and broad basis, that being the only possible way to give them

permanency. But the constituent assembly, unmindful of the dreadful

effects beginning to flow from an unbounded licentiousness, continued to

pursue a romantic sublimity of character, dangerous to all sublunary

laws; whilst most interestedly attentive to things that should have been

subordinate to their first object, they were led into a procrastination,

which in it’s consequence has been fatal in the extreme.

The decree which made the king inviolable, passed on the 15th of

September, at the time the crown was declared hereditary, and the empire

indivisible, was the most idle, if not the most dangerous measure, both

for him and France, which could have been devised. The former life of

Louis had exhibited a series of follies, and displayed an insincerity

not to be tolerated, much less encouraged; and it was likely, if this

doctrine, a relict of the abasement of ignorance, that kings can do no

wrong, should be carried into a law, forming part of the constitution,

that he would avail himself of the decree of the assembly to cover his

contempt of the national sovereignty. When kings are considered by the

government of a country merely as ciphers, it is very just and proper,

that their ministers should be responsible for their political conduct:

but at the moment when a state is about to establish a constitution on

the basis of reason, to undermine that foundation by a master-piece of

absurdity, appears a solecism as glaring as the doctrine itself is

laughable, when applied to an enlightened policy. In fact, whilst

Mirabeau contended for the infallibility of the king, he seems to have

had no right from reason to deride those who respected that of the

church: for, if the government must necessarily be supported by a pious

fraud, one was as respectable as the other.

The bigotry of Louis was well known; nay, it was notorious, that he

employed his confessor to erase from his tender conscience the

remembrance of the vices he resolved to indulge, and to reconcile the

meanest dissimulation with a servile fear of the Being whose first

attribute is truth.—This man, whose bestiality had been carefully

pampered by the queen and count d’Artois, because in those moments of

revelry, prolonged to the most disgusting excess of gluttony and

intoxication, he would sanction all their demands, was made in his

person and conduct sacred and unimpeachable. This was the extreme folly

of weakness. But, when it is also kept in view, that, at the very period

when he was declared inviolable, he was suspected, in concert with the

court, to be actually meditating his flight, there seems to be a

pusillanimity in it as contemptible as the pretended dignity of the

assembly was ridiculous.

True firmness consists in doing whatever is just and reasonable,

uninfluenced by any other consideration. The defining the power of the

crown in the assembly to be subordinate to the authority of the people

must have appeared to the kings of Europe a dangerous encroachment on

their indefeasible rights:—a heresy tending to undermine their

privileges, should such audacity pass unchastized, and to destroy the

splendour of royalty by presuming to control it’s omnipotence. It was

then scarcely to be expected, that their resentment would be appeased by

shielding the person of Louis against the danger of intrigue and

violence. It was not, indeed, the preservation of the life of this

unfortunate man, that interested them so sensibly as to appall the

sycophants of Europe.—No; it was the attack made on despotism; and the

attempt to draw aside the splendid curtain which concealed it’s folly,

that threw them into a general ferment and agitation. This agitation

could not fail to inspire the court of Versailles with hope, and they

stood prepared to take advantage of the gathering storm, as eagerly as a

distressed mariner, who has long laid becalmed, perceiving at length a

gentle heaving of the sea, and feeling the undulating motion of his

bark, foresees the approaching breeze, and spreads his sails to catch

the first breath of wind. The effect of the feigned or real pity of many

of the admirers of the old system, who were deeply wounded by the wrong

done, as they insisted, to their king, was to be dreaded; for it was not

to be supposed, that the chivalrous spirit of France would be destroyed

in an instant, though _swords had ceased to leap out of their scabbards_

when beauty was not deified. It was then undoubtedly to be feared, that

they would risk their lives and fortunes to support the glory of their

master, and their own notions of honour: and the assembly, by making

Louis not accountable for any of his actions, however insincere, unjust,

or atrocious, was affording all his abettors a shelter, encouraging at

the same time his hypocrisy, and relaxing the little energy of

character, which his misfortune seemed to be calling into play.

Mistaken lenity in politics is not more dangerous than a false

magnanimity is palpable littleness in the eyes of a man of simple

integrity. Besides, had the representatives of the people considered

Louis merely as a man, it is probable he would have acted more like one.

Instead of palliating the matter, they should, on the contrary, have

proclaimed to all Europe, with a tone of dignified firmness, that the

french nation, willing for themselves, regardless of the rights and

privileges of others, though respecting their prejudices, finding that

no compromise could be formed between the court and people, whose

interest neither justice nor policy ever required should be distinct, do

not consider themselves accountable to any power or congress on earth,

for any measure they may choose to adopt in framing a constitution to

regulate their own internal polity. That treating their monarch like a

man, and not as a mere idol for state pageantry, they would wish, by

establishing the dignity of truth and justice, to give stability to the

freedom of frenchmen, and leave a monument in their institutions to

immortalize a sincere and acquiescing king. But that, though their ideas

might differ greatly from those of their neighbours, with whom they

desired to live on the most amicable terms, they would pursue the path

of eternal reason in consolidating the rights of man; and by a striking

example lay the foundation of the liberty of the whole globe, of that

liberty which had hitherto been confined to the small island of England,

and enjoyed imperfectly even there.

The house of Austria was at this period engaged in a war with the turks,

which obliged it to withdraw most of it’s troops from Flanders; and the

intelligence, that the flemings, highly discontented with the

innovations, which the vain weathercock Joseph the Second had made in

their form of worship, were on the eve of an insurrection, more against

the folly of the man than the despotism of his court, calmed the fears

of the french, as to the danger of being immediately attacked by

Germany. This security, for they had no dread of Sardinia, made them

consider the possibility of a counter-revolution being effected by

foreign enemies as far from alarming. It is true, there was not any just

cause of apprehension, unless they took into the calculation, that the

policy of Europe for ages past had been subject to sudden changes; a

state of profound tranquillity giving place to sanguinary scenes of

confusion, and inhuman butcheries—often about such trifling insults and

idle pretentions, as individuals would be ashamed to make a pretext for

quarrelling; and having reason to expect these changes as long as the

systems of courts preserve their existence, France could not reckon,

with any degree of certainty, on the continuation of peace.—Neither did

the national assembly appear to have calculated upon it; for they

undoubtedly betrayed symptoms of pusillanimity, when they suffered their

conduct to be in the smallest degree influenced by the apprehension of a

combination of the crowned heads of Europe to replace the royal diadem

of France, should the most brilliant of it’s jewels be touched by

profane hands.

These fears, perhaps, were the secret cause, combined with the old habit

of adoring the king, as a point of honour, and loving the court, as an

affair of taste, that induced them to preserve the shadow of monarchy in

the new order of things. It’s preservation might have been politically

necessary; because, before abolishing any ancient form, it is necessary

to secure whatever political good may have flowed from it, and guard

against being exhausted by cutting off an excrescence.—But, if the

continuance of a king in the new system were expedient to avert present

evil, they should have allowed him the power necessary to give energy to

the government; and making him responsible for the rectitude of his

actions, the man would have had a fair trial, and posterity, judging of

his conduct, would have been enabled to form a just estimate of a kingly

government.

Machiavelian cunning, however, still directed the movements of all the

courts of Europe; and these political moles, too well perceiving the

timidity that was mixed with the blustering courage of the assembly,

only waited for a favourable season to overturn the rising edifice.

Their agents had private instructions to promote the escape of Louis, as

the surest mode of making a decided schism in the national politics; and

they firmly believed, that the affection still subsisting for his

christian majesty would facilitate the execution of their plan. The

court also presuming on the divisions and lenity of the assembly, took

the most indefatigable pains to foster in the mind of the public, nay,

in that of all Europe, pity for the degraded person of the king, and

detestation of the sacrilege, which had been committed on the dignity of

royalty. Their continual theme was the ignominious state to which the

most mild of the Bourbons was reduced, by men, who usurped the reins of

government, and trampled on the honours of that august and ancient

family. Restraining the authority of a throne, which supported the most

abominable tyranny, they were shaking the despotism, which held in

bondage nine-tenths of the inhabitants of the world. These were alarming

signals to a certain class of men, to the drones and myrmidons who live

on the spoil and blood of industry and innocence. The intrusion of

knowledge, which was sure to render them an useless set of beings in

society, was to be prevented by ingenious clamours, whilst a great

number of weak, well-meaning people, and still more knaves, enlisted

under their banner.

The universal damp, which the revolution had given to the courts of

Europe, producing among them a lively sympathy for the sombre atmosphere

of Versailles, a general sorrow was consequently expressed by all their

minions, and expressed with unfeigned concern; for the want of the usual

routine of amusements tended to make it real. Hope, indeed, began again

to animate them, when the king was prevailed on to concert his escape;

yet their eagerness to accelerate his departure for the frontiers, where

they purposed to erect the royal standard, to avail themselves of the

proximity of german connections, was in a great degree the cause of

defeating that ill-contrived design.

A design formed very early, and systematically pursued, was probably

rendered entirely abortive by the obstinacy of the court; who still

persisted to cherish the belief, that the public opinion was changed

only for the moment, and that their deeply rooted love of royalty would

bring them back to what they termed their duty, when the effervescence

excited by novelty had subsided. And thinking, that the cordial

reception given by the parisians to the soldiery had contributed to

estrange them, and effect the revolution, they determined to regain

their lost ground, and dazzle them by feasts, instead of stealing on

their affections by hospitality.—Still, bearing impatiently their

humiliating situation, the courtiers could not help vauntingly exposing

their project; and the babbling of joy showed the weakness of the heads,

that could so soon be intoxicated by hope.

A preparatory step was thought necessary to awaken a sense of allegiance

in the breasts of the people, and to promote a division amongst them, if

not their entire concurrence, after the cabinet should have securely in

their possession the person of the king; and this division would then

enable them to calculate their strength, and act accordingly. For this

purpose, in spite of the comments that had been made on the festivity at

Versailles, which seemed before to insult the misery of the people, and

greatly tended to provoke the exertions that overturned the Bastille and

changed the whole face of things, they projected another entertainment

to seduce the military, encouraged to throng round the court, whilst

famine was at the very gates of Paris. But previously the old french

guards, who had been incorporated with the _garde-bourgeoise_, began to

manifest some symptoms of discontent at not being allowed to guard the

person of the king. Whether they considered their honour as wounded, or

were spirited up to aspire at regaining this privilege, is not decided;

but it is clear, that the court, either to facilitate the entrance of

fresh troops, or from a real dislike to men, who had taken such an

active part in disconcerting their first plot, opposed their wish; and

even the municipality, as has been already noticed, was induced to

request, that a regiment of fresh troops might be called in to guard the

person of the king, and keep the peace, which this trifling dispute,

swelled into an insurrection in the report, threatened to disturb.

The king’s body-guards, whose time of service expired the first of

october, were still retained with those who came to replace them; and an

immense crowd of supernumeraries continued daily to increase this corps,

which had not yet sworn allegiance to the nation. The officers, in

particular, flocked to Versailles, amounting to between eleven or twelve

hundred, constantly parading together. The universal topic was

commiseration of the king’s fate, and insinuations respecting the

ambition of the assembly. Yet, even there the court party seemed to be

prevailing: a president attached to loyalty was elected; and Mirabeau’s

remonstrances, respecting the augmentation of the troops, were

disregarded.

Mean time, not only the officers of the new regiment, but those of the

national guards, were caressed by the court, whilst the citizens, with

more sagacity, were lavish of their attention to the soldiers. The

cabinet had not sufficient discernment to perceive, that the people were

now to be led, not driven; and the popular promoters of anarchy, to

serve their private interest, availed themselves, unfortunately, but too

well of this want of judgment.—Thus whilst one party, declaiming on the

necessity of order, seemed to be endeavouring to rivet on them the

chains of servitude, the other lifted them above the law with vain

glorious notions of their sovereignty.—And this sovereignty of the

people, the perfection of the science of government, only to be attained

when a nation is truly enlightened, consisted in making them tyrants;

nay the worst of tyrants, because the instruments of mischief of the

men, who pretended to be subordinate to their will, though acting the

very part of the ministers whom they execrated.

CHAPTER II.

ENTERTAINMENT AT VERSAILLES. THE NATIONAL COCKADE TRAMPLED UNDER FOOT. A

MOB OF WOMEN PROCEED TO THE HOTEL-DE-VILLE—AND THENCE TO VERSAILLES. THE

KING’S REPLY TO THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY’S REQUEST, THAT HE WOULD SANCTION

THE DECLARATION OF RIGHTS AND THE FIRST ARTICLES OF THE CONSTITUTION.

DEBATES ON IT. ARRIVAL OF THE MOB AT VERSAILLES. THE KING RECEIVES A

DEPUTATION FROM THE WOMEN, AND SANCTIONS THE DECREE FOR THE FREE

CIRCULATION OF GRAIN. THE ASSEMBLY SUMMONED. LA FAYETTE ARRIVES WITH THE

PARISIAN MILITIA. THE PALACE ATTACKED BY THE MOB—WHO ARE DISPERSED BY

THE NATIONAL GUARDS. REFLECTIONS ON THE CONDUCT OF THE DUKE OF ORLEANS.

On the first of october, in consequence of these fresh machinations, a

magnificent entertainment was given in the name of the king’s

body-guards; but really by some of their principal officers, at the

opera-house of the castle. The affectation of excluding the dragoons,

distinguished for their attachment to liberty, seemed to show, but too

plainly, the end in view, rendered still more conspicuous by the unusual

familiarity of persons of the first rank with the lowest soldiers.

When their heads were heated by a sumptuous banquet, by the tumult of an

immense crowd, and the great profusion of delicious wines and

_liqueurs_, the conversation, purposely turned into one channel, became

unrestrained, and a chivalrous scene completed the folly. The queen, to

testify her satisfaction for the homage paid to her, and the wishes

expressed in her favour, exhibited herself to this half-drunken

multitude; carrying the dauphin in her arms, whom she regarded with a

mixture of sorrow and tenderness, and seeming to implore in his favour

the affection and zeal of the soldiers.

This acting, for it is clear that the whole was a preconcerted business,

was still more intoxicating than the wine.—The exclamation _vive le roi,

vive la reine_, resounded from all sides, and the royal healths were

drunk over drawn swords, whilst that of the nation was rejected with

contempt by the body-guards. The music, the choice could not have been

the effect of chance, played the well known air—O Richard! O my king!

the universe abandons thee[32]! and during this moment of fascination

some voices, perhaps bribed for the occasion, mingled execrations

against the assembly. A grenadier even darted from the midst of his

comrades, and accusing himself of having been unfaithful to his prince,

endeavoured, several times, to plunge his sword into his bosom. His held

arm was not indeed allowed to search for the disloyal heart; but some

blood was permitted to flow—and this theatrical display of sensibility,

carried to the highest pitch, produced emotions almost convulsive in the

whole circle, of which an english reader can scarcely form an idea. The

king, who is always represented as innocent, though always giving proofs

that he more than connived at the attempts to recover his power, was

likewise prevailed on to show himself at this entertainment. And some of

the same soldiery, who had refused to second the former project of the

cabal, were now induced to utter insults and menaces against the very

authority, they then supported. ‘The national cockade,’ exclaimed

Mirabeau, ‘that emblem of the defenders of liberty, has been torn in

pieces, and stamped under foot; and another ensign put in it’s

place.—Yes; even under the eye of the monarch, who allowed himself to be

styled—_Restorer of the rights of his people_, they have dared to hoist

a signal of faction.’

The same scene was renewed two days after, though with less parade; and

invitations for a similar treat were given for the following week.

The rumour respecting them, which reached Paris, contained many

exaggerated circumstances; and was regarded as the commencement of fresh

hostilities, on the part of the court. The cry now was, that the stunned

aristocracy had again reared it’s head; and that a number of old

officers, chevaliers of St. Louis, had signed a promise to join the

body-guards in a new attempt. This list was said to contain thirty

thousand signatures; and idle as the tale was, it seemed to be confirmed

by the appearance of white and black cockades, which inconsiderate

individuals displayed at the risk of their lives. These, said the

parisians, are the first indications of a projected civil war—the court

wish only to have the king safe to head them before they speak out:—he

ought, therefore, to be removed to Paris, inferred the politicians of

the palais royal. The exasperating of the people in this manner was

certainly the most absurd blundering folly that could have ruined a

party, who apparently saw the necessity of dividing the people in order

to conquer them. It was, in fact, a species of madness, and can be

accounted for only by recollecting the ineffable contempt really felt by

the court for the _canaille_, which made them still imagine the

revolution to be only a temporary convulsion, not believing it possible,

in spite of the daily events, that they could be crushed by the mass

they despised. Their presumption proceeded from their ignorance, and was

incurable.

The queen was supposed to be at the head of this weak conspiracy, to

withdraw the soldiery from siding with the people. She had presented

colours to the national guards of Versailles, and when they waited on

her to express their thanks, she replied, with the most winning

affability, ‘the nation and the army ought to be as well affected to the

king as we ourselves are. I was quite charmed with what passed on

thursday.’ This was the day of the feast.

A scarcity of bread, the common grievance of the revolution, aggravated

the vague fears of the parisians, and made the people so desperate, that

it was not difficult to persuade them to undertake any enterprize; and

the torrent of resentment and enthusiasm required only to be directed to

a point to carry every thing before it. Liberty was the constant watch

word; though few knew in what it consisted.—It seems, indeed, to be

necessary, that every species of enthusiasm should be fermented by

ignorance to carry it to any height. Mystery alone gives full play to

the imagination, men pursuing with ardour objects indistinctly seen or

understood, because each man shapes them to his taste, and looks for

something beyond even his own conception, when he is unable to form a

just idea.

The parisians were now continually brooding over the wrongs they had

heretofore only enumerated in a song; and changing ridicule into

invective, all called for redress, looking for a degree of public

happiness immediately, which could not be attained, and ought not to

have been expected, before an alteration in the national character

seconded the new system of government.

From the enjoyment of more freedom than the women of other parts of the

world, those of France have acquired more independence of spirit than

any others; it has, therefore, been the scheme of designing men very

often since the revolution, to lurk behind them as a kind of safe-guard,

working them up to some desperate act, and then terming it a folly,

because merely the rage of women, who were supposed to be actuated only

by the emotions of the moment. Early then on the fifth of october a

multitude of women by some impulse were collected together; and

hastening to the _hôtel-de-ville_ obliged every female they met to

accompany them, even entering many houses to force others to follow in

their train.

The concourse, at first, consisted mostly of market women, and the

lowest refuse of the streets, women who had thrown off the virtues of

one sex without having power to assume more than the vices of the other.

A number of men also followed them, armed with pikes, bludgeons, and

hatchets; but they were strictly speaking a mob, affixing all the odium

to the appellation it can possibly import; and not to be confounded with

the honest multitude, who took the Bastille.—In fact, such a rabble has

seldom been gathered together; and they quickly showed, that their

movement was not the effect of public spirit.

They first talked of addressing the committee appointed by the

municipality to superintend the operations necessary to obtain provision

for the city, and to remonstrate respecting their inattention or

indifference to the public calamity. Mean time a new cord was fixed to

the notorious lamp-iron, where the amusement of death was first

tolerated. The national guards, forming a hedge of bayonets to prevent

the women from entering the hotel, kept them in suspense a few

moments.—When, uttering a loud and general cry, they hurled a volley of

stones at the soldiers, who, unwilling, or ashamed, to fire on women,

though with the appearance of furies, retreated into the hall, and left

the passage free. They then sought for arms; and breaking open the doors

of the magazines, soon procured fusils, cannons, and ammunition; and

even took advantage of the confusion to carry off money and notes

belonging to the public. In the interim some went to search for the

volunteers of the Bastille, and chose a commander from among them to

conduct the party to Versailles; whilst others tied cords to the

carriages of the cannons to drag them along.—But these, being mostly

marine artillery, did not follow with the alacrity necessary to accord

with their wishes; they, therefore, stopped several coaches, forcing the

men to get out and the ladies to join them; fastening the cannons

behind, on which a number of the most furious mounted, brandishing

whatever weapon they had found, or the matches of the cannons. Some

drove the horses, and others charged themselves with the care of the

powder and ball, falling into ranks to facilitate their march. They took

the road by the _Champs Elysées_ about noon, to the number of four

thousand, escorted by four or five hundred men, armed with every thing

on which they could lay their hands.

Mean time the _tocsin_ sounded from all parts; the french guards, still

urged on by wounded pride, loudly declared, that the king ought to be

brought to Paris; and many of the citizens, not on duty, concurred with

the rest of the national guards in the same opinion, particularly those

accustomed to attend the harangues at the Palais Royal. La Fayette,

refusing to accompany, endeavoured to calm them. But finding, that the

tumult increased, and that prayers were giving place to menaces, he

offered to make known to the king, at their head, the wishes of the

capital, if the municipality gave him orders to this effect. Their

council was now assembled; yet prolonging the deliberation till between

four and five o’clock in the afternoon, the people became so very

impatient, that it was thought prudent to allow them to set out: and the

exclamations of the populace proved how easy it was to govern, or lead

them astray, by every fresh hope.

Few events have happened at Paris, that have not been attributed by the

different parties to the machinations of the leaders on the other side;

to blacken whose characters, when they had the upper hand, the most

audacious falsehoods have been industriously circulated; the detection

of which has induced many calm observers to believe, that all the

accounts of plots and conspiracies were fabricated in the same manner;

not considering, that even the universality of these suspicions was a

proof of the intriguing character of the people, who from a knowledge of

themselves became thus mistrustful of others. It was currently reported,

that very considerable sums had been distributed amongst the mob, before

it marched to Versailles; and, though many fabulous stories of showers

of gold have since been retailed by the credulous, this seems, from

their subsequent conduct, to have had some foundation: for nothing like

the heroism, the disinterestedness, appeared, which, in most other

risings of the parisians, has formed a striking contrast with their

barbarity; sometimes sufficient to oblige us, lamenting the delusions of

ignorance, to give the soft name of enthusiasm to cruelty; respecting

the intention, though detesting the effects. Now, on the contrary,

acting like a gang of thieves, they gave colour to the report—that the

first instigators of the riot were hired assassins.—And hired by

whom?—The public voice repeats, on every side, the despicable duke of

Orleans, whose immense estate had given him an undue influence in the

bailliages, and who still exercised all the means that cunning could

devise, and wealth produce, to revenge himself on the royal family. He

was particularly incensed against the queen, who having treated him with

the contempt which he doubtless merited, and even influenced the king to

banish him to one of his country seats, when he uttered some popular

sentiments, he continued to nourish the most implacable hatred to her

person, whilst the changing sentiments of the nation respecting the

present branch of his family excited in him hopes, that would at once

have gratified both his revenge and his ambition.

There is no calculating the mischief which may be produced by a

revengeful cunning knave, possessing the forcible engine of gold to move

his projects, and acting by agency, which, like a subterraneous fire,

that for a long time has been putting the combustible matter into a

state of fusion, bursts out unexpectedly, and the sudden eruption

spreads around terrour and destruction.

The agents of despotism, and of vengeful ambition, employed the same

means to agitate the minds of the parisians; and covered as they now are

with foul stains, it is an acknowledgement due to their original good

disposition, to note, that at this period they were so orderly it

required considerable management to lead them into any gross

irregularity of conduct. It was, therefore, necessary for the duke’s

instruments to put in motion a body of the most desperate women; some of

whom were half famished for want of bread, which had purposely been

rendered scarce to facilitate the atrocious design of murdering both the

king and queen in a broil, that would appear to be produced solely by

the rage of famine.

The shameless manner in which the entertainment of the officers of the

body-guards had been conducted; the indiscreet visit of the queen to

interest the army in the cause of royalty, coming in artfully after the

rabble of soldiers had been allowed to enter; together with the

imprudent expressions of which she afterwards made use; served as

pretexts, nay, may have been some of the causes of these women

suspecting, that the dearth of bread in the capital was owing to the

contrivance of the court, who had so often produced the same effect to

promote their sinister purposes. They believed then, that the only sure

way to remedy such a grievous calamity, in future, would be to implore

the king to reside at Paris: and the national militia, composed of more

orderly citizens, who thought the report of a premeditated escape was

not without foundation, imagined, that they should nip a civil war in

the bud, by preventing the king’s departure, and separate him

effectually from the cabal, to whom they attributed all his misconduct.