1 This pamphlet was written between the defeat of Pichegru's
attempt, September 4, 1794, and November 12, of the same
year, the date of the Bien-informe in which the publication
is noticed. General Pichegra (Charles), (1761-1804) having
joined a royalist conspiracy against the Republic, was
banished to Cayenne (1797), whence he escaped to England;
having returned to Paris (1804) he was imprisoned in the
Temple, and there found strangled by a silk handkerchief,
whether by his own or another's act remaining doubtful.
--Editor.
When an extraordinary measure, not warranted by established
constitutional rules, and justifiable only on the supreme law of
absolute necessity, bursts suddenly upon us, we must, in order to form
a true judgment thereon, carry our researches back to the times that
preceded and occasioned it. Taking up then the subject with respect to
the event of the Eighteenth of Fructidor on this ground, I go to examine
the state of things prior to that period. I begin with the establishment
of the constitution of the year 3 of the French Republic.
A better _organized_ constitution has never yet been devised by human
wisdom. It is, in its organization, free from all the vices and defects
to which other forms of government are more or less subject. I will
speak first of the legislative body, because the Legislature is, in the
natural order of things, the first power; the Executive is the first
magistrate.
By arranging the legislative body into two divisions, as is done in the
French Constitution, the one, (the Council of Five Hundred,) whose part
it is to conceive and propose laws; the other, a Council of Ancients, to
review, approve, or reject the laws proposed; all the security is given
that can arise from coolness of reflection acting upon, or correcting
the precipitancy or enthusiasm of conception and imagination. It is
seldom that our first thought, even upon any subject, is sufficiently
just.(1)
1 For Paine's ideas on the right division of representatives
into two chambers, which differ essentially from any
bicameral system ever adopted, see vol. ii., p. 444 of this
work; also, in the present volume, Chapter XXXIV.--
_Editor._.
The policy of renewing the Legislature by a third part each year, though
not entirely new, either in theory or in practice, is nevertheless one
of the modern improvements in the science of government. It prevents,
on the one hand, that convulsion and precipitate change of measures
into which a nation might be surprised by the going out of the whole
Legislature at the same time, and the instantaneous election of a new
one; on the other hand, it excludes that common interest from taking
place that might tempt a whole Legislature, whose term of duration
expired at once, to usurp the right of continuance. I go now to speak of
the Executive.
It is a principle uncontrovertible by reason, that each of the parts
by which government is composed, should be so constructed as to be in
perpetual maturity. We should laugh at the idea of a Council of Five
Hundred, or a Council of Ancients, or a Parliament, or any national
assembly, who should be all children in leading strings and in the
cradle, or be all sick, insane, deaf, dumb, lame or blind, at the same
time, or be all upon crutches, tottering with age or infirmities. Any
form of government that was so constructed as to admit the possibility
of such cases happening to a whole Legislature would justly be the
ridicule of the world; and on a parity of reasoning, it is equally as
ridiculous that the same cases should happen in that part of government
which is called the Executive; yet this is the contemptible condition to
which an Executive is always subject, and which is often happening,
when it is placed in an hereditary individual called a king. When
that individual is in either of the cases before mentioned, the whole
Executive is in the same case; for himself is the whole. He is then (as
an Executive) the ridiculous picture of what a Legislature would be if
all its members were in the same case. The one is a whole made up of
parts, the other a whole without parts; and anything happening to the
one, (as a part or sec-tion of the government,) is parallel to the same
thing happening to the other.
As, therefore, an hereditary executive called a king is a perfect
absurdity in itself, any attachment to it is equally as absurd. It is
neither instinct or reason; and if this attachment is what is called
royalism in France, then is a royalist inferior in character to every
species of the animal world; for what can that being be who acts neither
by instinct nor by reason? Such a being merits rather our derision
than our pity; and it is only when it assumes to act its folly that it
becomes capable of provoking republican indignation. In every other
case it is too contemptible to excite anger. For my own part, when I
contemplate the self-evident absurdity of the thing, I can scarcely
permit myself to believe that there exists in the high-minded nation of
France such a mean and silly animal as a royalist.
As it requires but a single glance of thought to see (as is before said)
that all the parts of which government is composed must be at all times
in a state of full maturity, it was not possible that men acting under
the influence of reason, could, in forming a Constitution, admit an
hereditary Executive, any more than an hereditary Legislature. I go
therefore to examine the other cases.
In the first place, (rejecting the hereditary system,) shall the
Executive by election be an _individual or a plurality_.
An individual by election is almost as bad as the hereditary system,
except that there is always a better chance of not having an idiot. But
he will never be any thing more than a chief of a party, and none but
those of that party will have access to him. He will have no person
to consult with of a standing equal with himself, and consequently be
deprived of the advantages arising from equal discussion.
Those whom he admits in consultation will be ministers of his own
appointment, who, if they displease by their advice, must expect to
be dismissed. The authority also is too great, and the business too
complicated, to be intrusted to the ambition or the judgment of an
individual; and besides these cases, the sudden change of measures
that might follow by the going out of an individual Executive, and the
election of a new one, would hold the affairs of a nation in a state of
perpetual uncertainty. We come then to the case of a plural Executive.
It must be sufficiently plural, to give opportunity to discuss all the
various subjects that in the course of national business may come before
it; and yet not so numerous as to endanger the necessary secrecy that
certain cases, such as those of war, require.
Establishing, then, plurality as a principle, the only question is, What
shall be the number of that plurality?
Three are too few either for the variety or the quantity of business.
The Constitution has adopted five; and experience has shewn, from the
commencement of the Constitution to the time of the election of the new
legislative third, that this number of Directors, when well chosen, is
sufficient for all national executive purposes; and therefore a greater
number would be only an unnecessary expence. That the measures of the
Directory during that period were well concerted is proved by their
success; and their being well concerted shews they were well discussed;
and, therefore, that five is a sufficient number with respect to
discussion; and, on the other hand, the secret, whenever there was
one, (as in the case of the expedition to Ireland,) was well kept, and
therefore the number is not too great to endanger the necessary secrecy.
The reason why the two Councils are numerous is not from the necessity
of their being so, on account of business, but because that every
part of the republic shall find and feel itself in the national
representation.
Next to the general principle of government by representation, the
excellence of the French Constitution consists in providing means to
prevent that abuse of power that might arise by letting it remain too
long in the same hands. This wise precaution pervades every part of the
Constitution. Not only the legislature is renewable by a third every
year, but the president of each of the Councils is renewable every
month; and of the Directory, one member each year, and its president
every three months. Those who formed the Constitution cannot be accused
of having contrived for themselves. The Constitution, in this respect,
is as impartially constructed as if those who framed it were to die as
soon as they had finished their work.
The only defect in the Constitution is that of having narrowed the right
of suffrage; and it is in a great measure due to this narrowing the
right, that the last elections have not generally been good. My former
colleagues will, I presume, pardon my saying this to day, when they
recollect my arguments against this defect, at the time the Constitution
was discussed in the Convention.(1)
1 See Chapters XXIV. and XXV., also the letter prefaced to
XXVIII., in this volume.--_Editor._,
I will close this part of the subject by remarking on one of the most
vulgar and absurd sayings or dogmas that ever yet imposed itself upon
the world, which is, "_that a Republic is fit only for a small country,
and a Monarchy for a large one_." Ask those who say this their reasons
why it is so, and they can give none.
Let us then examine the case. If the quantity of knowledge in a
government ought to be proportioned to the extent of a country, and
the magnitude and variety of its affairs, it follows, as an undeniable
result, that this absurd dogma is false, and that the reverse of it is
true. As to what is called Monarchy, if it be adaptable to any country
it can only be so to a small one, whose concerns are few, little
complicated, and all within the comprehension of an individual. But when
we come to a country of large extent, vast population, and whose affairs
are great, numerous, and various, it is the representative republican
system only, that can collect into the government the quantity
of knowledge necessary to govern to the best national advantage.
Montesquieu, who was strongly inclined to republican government,
sheltered himself under this absurd dogma; for he had always the
Bastile before his eyes when he was speaking of Republics, and therefore
_pretended_ not to write for France. Condorcet governed himself by
the same caution, but it was caution only, for no sooner had he the
opportunity of speaking fully out than he did it. When I say this of
Condorcet, I know it as a fact. In a paper published in Paris, July,
1791, entitled, "_The Republican, or the Defender of Representative
Government?_" is a piece signed _Thomas Paine_.(1) That piece was
concerted between Condorcet and myself. I wrote the original in
English, and Condorcet translated it. The object of it was to expose the
absurdity and falsehood of the above mentioned dogma.
1 Chapter II. of this volume. See also my "Life of Paine,"
vol. i., p. 311.--Editor.
Having thus concisely glanced at the excellencies of the Constitution,
and the superiority of the representative system of government over
every other system, (if any other can be called a system,) I come to
speak of the circumstances that have intervened between the time the
Constitution was established and the event that took place on the 18th
of Fructidor of the present year.
Almost as suddenly as the morning light dissipates darkness, did the
establishment of the Constitution change the face of affairs in France.
Security succeeded to terror, prosperity to distress, plenty to famine,
and confidence increased as the days multiplied, until the coming of the
new third. A series of victories unequalled in the world, followed
each other, almost too rapidly to be counted, and too numerous to be
remembered. The Coalition, every where defeated and confounded, crumbled
away like a ball of dust in the hand of a giant. Every thing, during
that period, was acted on such a mighty scale that reality appeared a
dream, and truth outstript romance. It may figuratively be said, that
the Rhine and the Rubicon (Germany and Italy) replied in triumphs to
each other, and the echoing Alps prolonged the shout. I will not
here dishonour a great description by noticing too much the English
government. It is sufficient to say paradoxically, that in the magnitude
of its littleness it cringed, it intrigued, and sought protection in
corruption.
Though the achievements of these days might give trophies to a nation
and laurels to its heroes, they derive their full radiance of glory
from the principle they inspired and the object they accomplished.
Desolation, chains, and slavery had marked the progress of former wars,
but to conquer for Liberty had never been thought of. To receive
the degrading submission of a distressed and subjugated people, and
insultingly permit them to live, made the chief triumph of former
conquerors; but to receive them with fraternity, to break their chains,
to tell them they are free, and teach them to be so, make a new volume
in the history of man.
Amidst those national honours, and when only two enemies remained, both
of whom had solicited peace, and one of them had signed preliminaries,
the election of the new third commenced. Every thing was made easy to
them. All difficulties had been conquered before they arrived at the
government. They came in the olive days of the revolution, and all they
had to do was not to do mischief.
It was, however, not difficult to foresee, that the elections would not
be generally good. The horrid days of Robespierre were still remembered,
and the gratitude due to those who had put an end to them was forgotten.
Thousands who, by passive approbation during that tremendous scene, had
experienced no suffering, assumed the merit of being the loudest against
it. Their cowardice in not opposing it, became courage when it was over.
They exclaimed against Terrorism as if they had been the heroes that
overthrew it, and rendered themselves ridiculous by fantastically
overacting moderation. The most noisy of this class, that I have met
with, are those who suffered nothing. They became all things, at all
times, to all men; till at last they laughed at principle. It was the
real republicans who suffered most during the time of Robespierre. The
persecution began upon them on the 31st of May, 1793, and ceased only
by the exertions of the remnant that survived.
In such a confused state of things as preceded the late elections the
public mind was put into a condition of being easily deceived; and it
was almost natural that the hypocrite would stand the best chance of
being elected into the new third. Had those who, since their election,
have thrown the public affairs into confusion by counter-revolutionary
measures, declared themselves beforehand, they would have been denounced
instead of being chosen. Deception was necessary to their success.
The Constitution obtained a full establishment; the revolution was
considered as complete; and the war on the eve of termination. In such a
situation, the mass of the people, fatigued by a long revolution, sought
repose; and in their elections they looked out for quiet men. They
unfortunately found hypocrites. Would any of the primary assemblies
have voted for a civil war? Certainly they would not. But the electoral
assemblies of some departments have chosen men whose measures, since
their election, tended to no other end but to provoke it. Either those
electors have deceived their constituents of the primary assemblies, or
they have been themselves deceived in the choice they made of deputies.
That there were some direct but secret conspirators in the new third can
scarcely admit of a doubt; but it is most reasonable to suppose that a
great part were seduced by the vanity of thinking they could do better
than those whom they succeeded. Instead of trusting to experience, they
attempted experiments. This counter-disposition prepared them to fall in
with any measures contrary to former measures, and that without seeing,
and probably without suspecting, the end to which they led.
No sooner were the members of the new third arrived at the seat of
government, than expectation was excited to see how they would act.
Their motions were watched by all parties, and it was impossible for
them to steal a march unobserved. They had it in their power to do great
good, or great mischief. A firm and manly conduct on their part, uniting
with that of the Directory and their colleagues, would have terminated
the war. But the moment before them was not the moment of hesitation. He
that hesitates in such situation is lost.
The first public act of the Council of Five Hundred was the election of
Pichegru to the presidency of that Council. He arrived at it by a very
large majority, and the public voice was in his favour. I among the rest
was one who rejoiced at it. But if the defection of Pichegru was at that
time known to Conde, and consequently to Pitt, it unveils the cause that
retarded all negotiations for peace.(1) They interpreted that election
into a signal of a counter-revolution, and were waiting for it; and they
mistook the respect shown to Pichegru, founded on the supposition of his
integrity, as a symptom of national revolt. Judging of things by their
own foolish ideas of government, they ascribed appearances to causes
between which there was no connection. Every thing on their part has
been a comedy of errors, and the actors have been chased from the stage.
1 Louis Joseph de Bourbon, Prince de Conde (1736-1818),
organized the French emigrants on the Rhine into an army
which was incorporated with that of Austria but paid by
England. He converted Pichegru into a secret partisan of the
Bourbons. He ultimately returned to France with Louis
XVIII., who made him colonel of infantry and master of the
royal household.--_Editor._,
Two or three decades of the new sessions passed away without any
thing very material taking place; but matters soon began to explain
themselves. The first thing that struck the public mind was, that no
more was heard of negotiations for peace, and that public business stood
still. It was not the object of the conspirators that there should be
peace; but as it was necessary to conceal their object, the Constitution
was ransacked to find pretences for delays. In vain did the Directory
explain to them the state of the finances and the wants of the army. The
committee, charged with that business, trifled away its time by a series
of unproductive reports, and continued to sit only to produce more.
Every thing necessary to be done was neglected, and every thing improper
was attempted. Pichegru occupied himself about forming a national guard
for the Councils--the suspicious signal of war,--Camille Jordan about
priests and bells, and the emigrants, with whom he had associated
during the two years he was in England.1 Willot and Delarue attacked the
Directory: their object was to displace some one of the directors, to
get in another of their own. Their motives with respect to the age of
Barras (who is as old as he wishes to be, and has been a little too old
for them) were too obvious not to be seen through.(2)
1 Paine's pamphlet, addressed to Jordan, deals mainly with
religions matters, and is reserved for oar fourth volume.--
_Editor._.
2 Paul Francois Jean Nicolas Barras (1755-1899) was
President of the Directory at this time, 1797.--_Editor._.
In this suspensive state of things, the public mind, filled with
apprehensions, became agitated, and without knowing what it might be,
looked for some extraordinary event. It saw, for it could not avoid
seeing, that things could not remain long in the state they were in,
but it dreaded a convulsion. That spirit of triflingness which it
had indulged too freely when in a state of security, and which it is
probable the new agents had interpreted into indifference about the
success of the Republic, assumed a serious aspect that afforded to
conspiracy no hope of aid; but still it went on. It plunged itself into
new measures with the same ill success, and the further it went the
further the public mind retired. The conspiracy saw nothing around it to
give it encouragement.
The obstinacy, however, with which it persevered in its repeated
attacks upon the Directory, in framing laws in favour of emigrants and
refractory priests, and in every thing inconsistent with the immediate
safety of the Republic, and which served to encourage the enemy to
prolong the war, admitted of no other direct interpretation than that
something was rotten in the Council of Five Hundred. The evidence of
circumstances became every day too visible not to be seen, and too
strong to be explained away. Even as errors, (to say no worse of
them,) they are not entitled to apology; for where knowledge is a duty,
ignorance is a crime.
The more serious republicans, who had better opportunities than the
generality had, of knowing the state of politics, began to take
the alarm, and formed themselves into a Society, by the name of the
Constitutional Club. It is the only Society of which I have been a
member in France; and I went to this because it was become necessary
that the friends of the Republic should rally round the standard of
the constitution. I met there several of the original patriots of the
revolution; I do not mean of the last order of Jacobins, but of the
first of that name. The faction in the Council of Five Hundred,
who, finding no counsel from the public, began to be frightened at
appearances, fortified itself against the dread of this Society, by
passing a law to dissolve it. The constitutionality of the law was at
least doubtful: but the Society, that it might not give the example of
exasperating matters already too much inflamed, suspended its meetings.
A matter, however, of much greater moment soon after presented itself.
It was the march of four regiments, some of whom, in the line of their
route, had to pass within about twelve leagues of Paris, which is the
boundary the Constitution had fixed as the distance of any armed
force from the legislative body. In another state of things, such a
circumstance would not have been noticed. But conspiracy is quick of
suspicion, and the fear which the faction in the Council of Five
Hundred manifested upon this occasion could not have suggested itself
to innocent men; neither would innocent men have expostulated with the
Directory upon the case, in the manner these men did. The question they
urged went to extort from the Directory, and to make known to the enemy,
what the destination of the troops was. The leaders of the faction
conceived that the troops were marching against them; and the conduct
they adopted in consequence of it was sufficient to justify the measure,
even if it had been so. From what other motive than the consciousness of
their own designs could they have fear? The troops, in every instance,
had been the gallant defenders of the Republic, and the openly declared
friends of the Constitution; the Directory had been the same, and if the
faction were not of a different description neither fear nor suspicion
could have had place among them.
All those manouvres in the Council were acted under the most
professional attachment to the Constitution; and this as necessarily
served to enfeeble their projects. It is exceedingly difficult, and next
to impossible, to conduct a conspiracy, and still more so to give it
success, in a popular government. The disguised and feigned pretences
which men in such cases are obliged to act in the face of the public,
suppress the action of the faculties, and give even to natural courage
the features of timidity. They are not half the men they would be where
no disguise is necessary. It is impossible to be a hypocrite and to be
brave at the same instant.
The faction, by the imprudence of its measures, upon the march of
the troops, and upon the declarations of the officers and soldiers to
support the Republic and the Constitution against all open or concealed
attempts to overturn them, had gotten itself involved with the army, and
in effect declared itself a party against it. On the one hand, laws were
proposed to admit emigrants and refractory priests as free citizens; and
on the other hand to exclude the troops from Paris, and to punish the
soldiers who had declared to support the Republic In the mean time all
negociations for peace went backward; and the enemy, still recruiting
its forces, rested to take advantage of circumstances. Excepting the
absence of hostilities, it was a state worse than war.
If all this was not a conspiracy, it had at least the features of one,
and was pregnant with the same mischiefs. The eyes of the faction could
not avoid being open to the dangers to which it obstinately exposed
the Republic; yet still it persisted. During this scene, the journals
devoted to the faction were repeatedly announcing the near approach of
peace with Austria and with England, and often asserting that it was
concluded. This falsehood could be intended for no other purpose than to
keep the eyes of the people shut against the dangers to which they were
exposed.
Taking all circumstances together, it was impossible that such a state
of things could continue long; and at length it was resolved to bring it
to an issue. There is good reason to believe that the affair of the
18th Fructidor (September 4) was intended to have taken place two days
before; but on recollecting that it was the 2d of September, a day
mournful in the annals of the revolution, it was postponed. When the
issue arrived, the faction found to its cost it had no party among the
public. It had sought its own disasters, and was left to suffer the
consequences. Foreign enemies, as well as those of the interior, if
any such there be, ought to see in the event of this day that all
expectation of aid from any part of the public in support of a counter
revolution is delusion. In a state of security the thoughtless, who
trembled at terror, may laugh at principles of Liberty (for they have
laughed) but it is one thing to indulge a foolish laugh, quite another
thing to surrender Liberty.
Considering the event of the 18th Fructidor in a political light, it is
one of those that are justifiable only on the supreme law of absolute
necessity, and it is the necessity abstracted from the event that is to
be deplored. The event itself is matter of joy. Whether the manouvres in
the Council of Five Hundred were the conspiracy of a few, aided l>y the
perverseness of many, or whether it had a deeper root, the dangers were
the same. It was impossible to go on. Every thing was at stake, and
all national business at a stand. The case reduced itself to a simple
alternative--shall the Republic be destroyed by the darksome manouvres
-of a faction, or shall it be preserved by an exceptional act?
During the American Revolution, and that after the State constitutions
were established, particular cases arose that rendered it necessary to
act in a manner that would have been treasonable in a state of peace. At
one time Congress invested General Washington with dictatorial power.
At another time the Government of Pennsylvania suspended itself and
declared martial law. It was the necessity of the times only that
made the apology of those extraordinary measures. But who was it that
produced the necessity of an extraordinary measure in France? A faction,
and that in the face of prosperity and success. Its conduct is without
apology; and it is on the faction only that the exceptional measure has
fallen. The public has suffered no inconvenience. If there are some men
more disposed than others not to act severely, I have a right to place
myself in that class; the whole of my political life invariably proves
it; yet I cannot see, taking all parts of the case together, what else,
or what better, could have been done, than has been done. It was a
great stroke, applied in a great crisis, that crushed in an instant,
and without the loss of a life, all the hopes of the enemy, and restored
tranquillity to the interior.
The event was ushered in by the discharge of two cannon at four in the
morning, and was the only noise that was heard throughout the day. It
naturally excited a movement among the Parisians to enquire the cause.
They soon learned it, and the countenance they carried was easy to be
interpreted. It was that of a people who, for some time past, had
been oppressed with apprehensions of some direful event, and who felt
themselves suddenly relieved, by finding what it was. Every one went
about his business, or followed his curiosity in quietude. It resembled
the cheerful tranquillity of the day when Louis XVI. absconded in 1791,
and like that day it served to open the eyes of the nation.
If we take a review of the various events, as well conspiracies as
commotions, that have succeeded each other in this revolution, we shall
see how the former have wasted consumptively away, and the consequences
of the latter have softened. The 31st May and its consequences were
terrible. That of the 9th and 10th Thermidor, though glorious for the
republic, as it overthrew one of the most horrid and cruel despotisms
that ever raged, was nevertheless marked with many circumstances
of severe and continued retaliation. The commotions of Germinal and
Prairial of the year 3, and of Vendemaire of the year 4, were many
degrees below those that preceded them, and affected but a small part of
the public. This of Pichegru and his associates has been crushed in an
instant, without the stain of blood, and without involving the public in
the least inconvenience.
These events taken in a series, mark the progress of the Republic from
disorder to stability. The contrary of this is the case in all parts
of the British dominions. There, commotions are on an ascending scale;
every one is higher than the former. That of the sailors had nearly
been the overthrow of the government. But the most potent of all is the
invisible commotion in the Bank. It works with the silence of time, and
the certainty of death. Every thing happening in France is curable; but
this is beyond the reach of nature or invention.
Leaving the event of the 18th Fructidor to justify itself by the
necessity that occasioned it, and glorify itself by the happiness of
its consequences, I come to cast a coup-d'oil on the present state of
affairs.
We have seen by the lingering condition of the negociations for peace,
that nothing was to be expected from them, in the situation that things
stood prior to the 18th Fructidor. The armies had done wonders, but
those wonders were rendered unproductive by the wretched manouvres of a
faction. New exertions are now necessary to repair the mischiefs which
that faction has done. The electoral bodies, in some Departments, who
by an injudicious choice, or a corrupt influence, have sent improper
deputies to the Legislature, have some atonement to make to their
country. The evil originated with them, and the least they can do is to
be among the foremost to repair it.
It is, however, in vain to lament an evil that is past. There is neither
manhood nor policy in grief; and it often happens that an error in
politics, like an error in war, admits of being turned to greater
advantage than if it had not occurred. The enemy, encouraged by that
error, presumes too much, and becomes doubly foiled by the re-action.
England, unable to conquer, has stooped to corrupt; and defeated in
the last, as in the first, she is in a worse condition than before.
Continually increasing her crimes, she increases the measure of her
atonement, and multiplies the sacrifices she must make to obtain peace.
Nothing but the most obstinate stupidity could have induced her to let
slip the opportunity when it was within her reach. In addition to the
prospect of new expenses, she is now, to use Mr. Pitt's own figurative
expression against France, _not only on the brink, but in the gulph
of bankruptcy_. There is no longer any mystery in paper money. Call
it assignats, mandats, exchequer bills, or bank notes, it is still the
same. Time has solved the problem, and experience has fixed its fate.(1)