The system of guarantees is as sacred as the rights which they

protect. Such are the right of contributing by representatives to

legislation and taxation, religious toleration, the liberty of the

press. As the rights are equal, the power of ensuring them must be

equal. All men alike have a share in representation, all alike are

admissible to office, all must be taxed in the same proportion. The

law is the same for all. The principle of equality is the idea on

which the Declaration most earnestly insists. Privilege had just been

overthrown, and the duty of providing against indirect means for its

recovery was the occupation of the hour. That this may be secured, all

powers must be granted by the people, and none must be exercised by

the people. They act only through their agents. The agent who

exercises power is responsible, and is controlled by the sovereign

authority that delegates it. Certain corollaries seem to follow:

restricted suffrage, progressive taxation, an established church, are

difficult to reconcile with equality so profoundly conceived. But this

is not explicit. Questions regarding education, poverty, revision,

are not admitted among the fundamentals and are left to future

legislation. The most singular passage is that which ordains that no

man may be molested for his opinions, even religious. It would appear

that Toleration was that part of the liberal dogma for which the

deputies were least prepared.

The Declaration passed, by August 26, after a hurried debate, and with

no further resistance. The Assembly, which had abolished the past at

the beginning of the month, attempted, at the end, to institute and

regulate the future. These are its abiding works, and the perpetual

heritage of the Revolution. With them a new era dawned upon mankind.

And yet this single page of print, which outweighs libraries, and is

stronger than all the armies of Napoleon, is not the work of superior

minds, and bears no mark of the lion's claw. The stamp of Cartesian

clearness is upon it, but without the logic, the precision, the

thoroughness of French thought. There is no indication in it that

Liberty is the goal, and not the starting-point, that it is a faculty

to be acquired, not a capital to invest, or that it depends on the

union of innumerable conditions, which embrace the entire life of man.

Therefore it is justly arraigned by those who say that it is

defective, and that its defects have been a peril and a snare.

It was right that the attempt should be made; for the extinction of

privilege involved a declaration of rights. When those that were

exclusive and unequal were abandoned, it was necessary to define and

to insist on those that were equal and the property of all. After

destroying, the French had to rebuild, and to base their new structure

upon principles unknown to the law, unfamiliar to the people,

absolutely opposed to the lesson of their history and to all the

experience of the ages in which France had been so great. It could not

rest on traditions, or interests, or any persistent force of

gravitation. Unless the idea that was to govern the future was

impressed with an extreme distinctness upon the minds of all, they

would not understand the consequences of so much ruin, and such

irrevocable change, and would drift without a compass. The country

that had been so proud of its kings, of its nobles, and of its chains,

could not learn without teaching that popular power may be tainted

with the same poison as personal power.

VIII

THE CONSTITUTIONAL DEBATES

When the Assembly passed the Rights of Man, they acted in harmony for

the last time. Agreement on first principles did not involve agreement

in policy, and in applying them to the Constitution, a week later, the

division of parties appeared.

From the tennis court to the great constitutional debate, the

Moderates, who may be called the Liberals, were predominant. Mounier

was their tactician, Clermont Tonnerre and Lally Tollendal were their

orators, Malouet was their discreet adviser. They hoped, by the

division of powers and the multiplication of checks, to make their

country as free as England or America. They desired to control the

Representatives in three ways: by a Second Chamber, the royal veto,

and the right of dissolution. Their success depended on the support of

Ministers and of reconciled Conservatives. Whilst the Constitution for

them was a means of regulating and restraining the national will, it

was an instrument for accomplishing the popular will for their rivals

rising to power on the crest of the wave.

The Democrats refused to resist the people, legitimately governing

itself, either by the English or the American division of power. There

was little concentration yet of the working class in towns, for the

industrial age had hardly dawned, and it was hard to understand that

the Third Estate contained divergent interests and the material of a

coming conflict. The managers of the democratic party were Duport,

Lameth, and Barnave, aided sometimes by Sieyes, sometimes by

Talleyrand, and by their sworn enemy Mirabeau.

The nobles, weak in statesmanship, possessed two powerful debaters:

Cazales, who reminded men of Fox, but who, when not on his legs, had

little in him; and Maury, afterwards Cardinal and Archbishop of Paris,

a man whose character was below his talents. Numbering nearly a third

of the Assembly, and holding the balance, it was in their power to

make a Constitution like that of 1814.

How these three parties acted in that eventful September, and what in

consequence befell, we have now to consider.

The five weeks from August 27 to October 1 were occupied with the

constitutional debates. They were kept within narrow limits by the

Rights of Man, which declared that the nation transmits all powers and

exercises none. On both sides there were men who were impatient of

this restriction, and by whom it was interpreted in contrary ways.

Some wished for security that the national will should always prevail,

through its agents; the others, that they should be able to obstruct

it. They struggled for an enlarged construction, and strove to break

the barrier, in the republican or the royalist direction.

The discussion opened by a skirmish with the clergy. They observed the

significant omission of a State church in the Declaration of Rights,

and feared that they would be despoiled and the Church disestablished.

The enthusiasm of the first hour had cooled. One after another,

ecclesiastics attempted to obtain the recognition of Catholicism. Each

time the attempt was repulsed. The clergy drifted fast into the temper

which was confessed by Maury when he said, "The proposed measure would

enable the Constitution to live: we vote against it."

The scheme of the Committee was produced on August 31, and was

explained by Lally in a speech which is among the finest compositions

of the time. He insisted on the division of the legislative, and the

unity of the executive, as the essentials of a free government. On

the following day Mirabeau spoke on the same side. He said that the

danger was not from the Crown, but from the representatives; for they

may exclude strangers and debate in secret, as the English law allows,

and these may declare themselves permanent, and escape all control.

Through the king, the public possesses the means of holding them in

check. He is their natural ally against usurping deputies, and the

possible formation of a new aristocracy. The legislature enjoys a

temporary mandate only. The perpetual representative of the people is

the king. It is wrong to deny him powers necessary for the public

interest. It is the partial appearance of a view that was expanded by

Napoleon.

Mounier defended his plan on September 4. On several points there was

no large variety of opinion. It was practically admitted that there

could be no governing without Parliament, that it must meet annually,

that its acts require the royal assent, that it shall be elected

indirectly, by equal districts, and a moderate property franchise.

Mounier further conceded that the Constitution was not subject to the

royal veto, that Ministers should not be members of the Assembly, that

the Assembly, and not the king, should have the initiative of

proposing laws, and that it should have the right of refusing

supplies. The real question at issue was whether the representatives

of the people should be checked by an Upper House, by the king's power

of dissolution, and by an absolute or a temporary veto.

Mounier had private friends among his opponents, and they opened a

negotiation with him. They were prepared to accept his two Houses and

his absolute veto. They demanded in return that the Senate should have

only a suspensive veto on the acts of the representatives, that there

should be no right of Dissolution, that Conventions should be held

periodically, to revise the Constitution. These offers were a sign of

weakness. The Constitutional party was still in the ascendant, and on

August 31 the Bishop of Langres, the chief advocate of a House of

Lords, was chosen President by 499 to 328. If the division of the

legislature into two was sure of a majority, then the proposed bargain

was one-sided, and the Democrats would have taken much more than they

gave. Mounier, counting on the support of those whose interest was

that he should succeed, rejected the offer. He had already been

forced, by the defection of friends, to abandon much that he would

have wished to keep; and the plan which he brought forward closely

resembled that under which France afterwards prospered.

Nevertheless, the failure of that negotiation is a fatal date in

constitutional history. With more address, and a better knowledge of

the situation, Mounier might have saved half of the securities he

depended on. He lost the whole. The things he refused to surrender at

the conference were rejected by the Assembly; and the offers he had

rejected were not made again. When the legislature was limited to two

years, the right of dissolution lost its value. The right of revision

would have caused no more rapid changes than actually ensued; for

there were fourteen Constitutions in eighty-six years, or a

fundamental revision every six or seven years. Lastly, the veto of the

Senate had no basis of argument, until it was decided how the Senate

should be composed.

The disastrous ruin of the cause was brought on by want of management,

and not by excess of conservatism. Mounier inclined to an hereditary

House of Peers; and that, after August 4, was not to be thought of.

But he knew the difficulty, and, however reluctantly, gave way. And he

attached undue importance to the absolute veto; but that was not the

point on which the conference broke up. He was supported by Lafayette,

who dreaded as much as he did the extinction of the royal power; at

times by Mirabeau, whom he detested. Even Sieyes was willing to have

two Houses, and even three, provided they were, in reality, one House,

deliberating in three divisions, but counting all the votes in common.

He also proposed that there should be a renewal of one-third at a

time; so that there would be three degrees of the popular infusion and

of proximity to Mother Earth.

Mounier, with some of his friends, deserves to be remembered among

the men, not so common as they say, who loved liberty sincerely; I

mean, who desired it, not for any good it might do them, but for

itself, however arduous, or costly, or perilous its approach might be.

They subordinated the means to the end, and never regarded conditional

forms as an emanation of eternal principles. Having secured the Rights

of Man, they looked with alarm at future legislation, that could not

improve, and might endanger them. They wished the Constituent Assembly

to bind and bar its successors as far as possible; for none would ever

speak with so much authority as the genuine voice of the entire

people.

By an extraordinary fortune, the nation, this time, had responded

wisely. It was certain that it would not always do so well. It had

passions; it had prejudices; it was grossly ignorant; it was not

disinterested; and it was demoralised by an evil tradition. The French

were accustomed to irresponsible power. They were not likely to

consent that the power in their hands should be inferior to that which

had been exercised over them, or to admit that an entire people is not

above the law which it obeys. It was to be expected that they would

endeavour by legislation to diminish those securities for the minority

and the weaker cause which were appointed by the Rights of Man.

Opinion was changing rapidly, and had become more favourable to

violence, more indulgent to crime. A draft project of the Rights of

Man had appeared, in which the writer avowed that, by the law of

nature, a man may do what he likes in the pursuit of happiness, and,

to elude oppression, may oppress, imprison, and destroy.

The man who wrote thus quickly acquired a dread ascendancy over the

people, and was able to defy police and governments and assemblies,

for it was the beginning of Marat. Lists of proscription were

circulated; threatening letters poured in on the deputies; and Paris,

at the end of August, was preparing to march upon Versailles, to expel

obnoxious members, and, when they ceased to be inviolable, to put them

on their trial. These were first-fruits of liberty, and the meed and

reward of Liberals. No man can tell in what country such things would

remain without effect. In France it was believed that civic courage

was often wanting. De Serre, the great orator of the Restoration, once

affirmed, from the tribune, that the bulk of the representatives had

always been sound. He was interrupted by a furious outcry, and

challenged by his legitimist audience to say whether he included the

Convention, which, by a majority, condemned the king to death. His

answer, very famous in parliamentary history, was, "Yes, even the

Convention. And if it had not deliberated under poniards, we should

have been spared the most terrible of crimes."

The opposition presented a united front, but was rent by many stages

of gravitation towards Democracy. They also were generally anxious to

establish political freedom, even by the greatest sacrifices. By

freedom they meant, first, deliverance from known and habitual causes

of oppression. True, there might be others; but they were less clear

and less certain. All European experience proclaimed that the

executive constantly masters the legislative, even in England. It was

absurd to suppose that every force that, for centuries, had helped to

build up absolutism, had been destroyed in two months. They would rise

again from the roots, and the conflict would be constantly renewed.

The salvation seemed to lie in the principle that all power is derived

from the people, and that none can exist against the people. The

popular will may be expressed by certain forms; it cannot be arrested

by obstacles. Its action may be delayed; it cannot be stopped. It is

the ultimate master of all, without responsibility or exemption, and

with no limit that is not laid down in the Rights of Man. The limits

there defined are sufficient, and individual liberty needs no further

protection. Distrust of the nation was not justified by the manner in

which it had chosen and instructed its deputies.

In studying this group of public men, men to whom the future belonged,

we are forced to admit the element of national character. No

philosophy is cheaper or more vulgar than that which traces all

history to diversities of ethnological type and blend, and is ever

presenting the venal Greek, the perfidious Sicilian, the proud and

indolent Spaniard, the economical Swiss, the vain and vivacious

Frenchman. But it is certainly true that in France the liberty of the

press represents a power that is not familiar to those who know its

weakness and its strength, who have had experience of Swift and

Bolingbroke and Junius. Maury once said, "We have a free press: we

have everything." In 1812, when Napoleon watched the grand army

crossing the Niemen to invade Russia, and whistled the tune of

Malbrook, he interrupted his tune to exclaim, "And yet all that is not

equal to the songs of Paris!" Chateaubriand afterwards said that, with

the liberty of the press, there was no abuse he would not undertake to

destroy. For he wrote French as it had never been written, and the

magnificent roll of his sentences caught the ear of his countrymen

with convincing force. When, in 1824, he was dismissed from the

Foreign Office, his friend, the editor of the _Journal des Debats_,

called on the Prime Minister Villele and warned him, "We have

overthrown your predecessor, and we shall be strong enough to

overthrow you." Villele replied, "You succeeded against him by aid of

royalism: you cannot succeed against me but by aid of revolution."

Both prophecies came true. The alliance of Chateaubriand with the

newspaper turned out the Ministry in 1827, and the Monarchy in 1830.

In September 1789, the liberty of the press was only four months old,

and the reign of opinion was beginning on the Continent. They fancied

that it was an invincible force, and a complete security for human

rights. It was invaluable if it secured right without weakening power,

like the other contrivances of Liberalism. They thought that when men

were safe from the force above them, they required no saving from the

influence around them. Opinion finds its own level, and a man yields

easily and not unkindly to what surrounds him daily. Pressure from

equals is not to be confounded with persecution by superiors. It is

right that the majority, by degrees, should absorb the minority. The

work of limiting authority had been accomplished by the Rights of Man.

The work of creating authority was left to the Constitution. In this

way men of varying opinions were united in the conclusion that the

powers emanating from the people ought not to be needlessly divided.

Besides Sieyes, who found ideas, and Talleyrand, who found expedients,

several groups were, for the time, associated with the party which was

managed by Duport. There were some of the most eminent jurists, eager

to reform the many systems of law and custom that prevailed in France,

who became the lawgivers of successive Assemblies, until they

completed their code under Napoleon. Of all the enemies of the old

monarchical _regime_, they were the most methodical and consistent.

The leader of the Paris Bar, Target, was their most active politician.

When he heard of a plan for setting the finances in order he said, "If

anybody has such a plan, let him at once be smothered. It is the

disorder of the finances that puts the king in our power." The

Economists were as systematic and definite as the lawyers, and they

too had much to destroy. Through Dupont de Nemours their theories

obtained enduring influence.

There were two or three of the future Girondins who taught that the

people may be better trusted than representatives, and who were ready

to ratify the Constitution, and even to decide upon the adoption of

laws, by the popular vote. And there were two men, not yet distinctly

divided from these their future victims, who went farther in

opposition to the Rights of Man, and towards the confusion of powers.

In their eyes, representation and delegation were treason to true

democracy. As the people could not directly govern itself, the

principle exacted that it should do so as nearly as possible, by means

of a perpetual control over the delegates. The parliamentary vote

ought to be constantly brought into harmony with the wish of the

constituency, by the press, the galleries and the mob. To act

consciously in opposition to the delegating power was a breach of

trust. The population of Paris, being the largest collected portion of

sovereign power, expresses its will more surely than deputies at

second hand. Barere, who was one of these, proposed an ingenious plan

by which every law that passed remained suspended until after the next

elections, when the country pronounced upon it by imperative mandate.

Thus he disposed of royal veto and dissolution.

Robespierre would not suspend the law, but left it to the next

legislature to rectify or revoke the errors of the last. He argued

that powers require to be checked in proportion to the danger they

present. Now the danger from a power not representative exceeds that

from a power that represents, and is better acquainted with the needs

and wishes of the mass. A nation governs itself, and has a single

will, not two. If the whole does not govern the part, the part will

govern the whole. Robespierre conceived that it was time to constitute

powers sufficient to conquer the outward foe, and also the inward; one

for national safety, and one for national progress, and the elevation

of the poor at the expense of the minorities that have oppressed them.

He stands at the end of the scale, and the idea of liberty, as it runs

through the various sets of thought, is transformed into the idea of

force. From Sieyes to Barnave, from Barnave to Camus, from Camus to

Buzot, and from Buzot the Girondin to Robespierre the Jacobin who

killed the Girondins, we traverse the long line of possible politics;

but the transitions are finely shaded, and the logic is continuous.

In the second week of September the Constitution of Mounier was

defeated by the union of these forces. The main question, the

institution of a Senate, was not seriously debated. It was feared as

the refuge of the defeated classes, and was not defended by those

classes themselves. They were not willing that a new aristocracy

should be raised upon their ruins; and they suspected that Government

would give the preference to that minority of the nobles who went over

in time, and who were renegades in the eyes of the rest. It was felt

that a single Chamber is stronger in resistance to the executive than

two, and that the time might come for a senate when the fallen

aristocracy had ceased to struggle, and the Crown was reconciled to

its reduced condition.

On September 9 the President of the Assembly, La Luzerne, bishop of

Langres, was driven by insult to resign. The next day the Assembly

adopted the single Chamber by 499 to 89, the nobles abstaining.

On September 11 the decisive division took place. Mounier had insisted

on the unlimited right of veto. The debate went against him. It was

admitted on his own side that the king would, sooner or later, have to

yield. The others agreed that the king might resist until two

elections had decided in favour of the vetoed measure. He might reject

the wish of one legislature, and even of two; he would give way to the

third. The Ministers themselves were unable to insist on the absolute

veto in preference to the suspensive thus defined. A letter from the

king was sent to the Assembly, to inform them that he was content with

the temporary veto. Mounier did not allow the letter to be read, that

it might not influence votes. He was defeated by 673 to 325. The

Conservatives had deserted him when he defended the Upper House; and

now the king deserted him when he defended the rights of the Crown. It

was a crushing and final disaster. For he fell, maintaining the cause

of aristocracy against the nobles, and the cause of prerogative

against the monarch. The Democrats triumphed by 410 votes one day, and

350 the next. The battle for the Constitution on the English model was

fought and lost.

On September 12 Mounier and his friends retired from the Committee. A

new one was at once elected from the victorious majority. At this

critical point a secret Council was held, at which the royalists

advised the king to take refuge in the provinces. Lewis refused to

listen to them. The majority, elated with success, now called on him

to sanction the decrees of August 4. His reply, dated September 18,

is drawn up with unusual ability. He adopted the argument of Sieyes on

the suppression of tithe. He said that a large income would be granted

to the land, and that the rich, who ought to contribute most, would,

on the contrary, receive most. Small holders would profit little,

while those who possessed no land at all would now be mulcted for

payment of the clergy. Instead of relieving the nation, it would

relieve one class at the expense of another, and the rich at the

expense of the poor.

The Assembly insisted that the abolition of feudalism was part of the

Constitution, and ought to receive an unconditional sanction. But they

promised to give most respectful attention to the remarks of the king,

whenever the decrees came to be completed by legislation. The royal

sanction was accordingly given on the following day. Thereupon the

Assembly made a considerable concession. They resolved, on September

21, that the suspensive veto should extend over two legislatures. The

numbers were 728 to 224.

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