CHAPTER I.

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DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE.

_FOURTH EDITION._

DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE.

JANUARY, 1849.

BY MONSIEUR GUIZOT.

_FOURTH EDITION._

LONDON:

JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.

1849.

LONDON: PRINTED BY W. CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET.

I venture to believe that nothing will be found in the following pages

which bears the impress of my personal situation. While events of such

magnitude are passing before his eyes, a man who did not forget himself

would deserve to be for ever forgotten. I have thought of nothing but

the situation of my country. The more I reflect upon that, the more I am

convinced that the evil which lies at the root of all her evils, which

undermines and destroys her governments and her liberties, her dignity

and her happiness, is the evil which I attack;--the idolatry of

Democracy.

Whether the accession of M. Louis Napoléon Bonaparte to the Presidency

of the Republic will be found an efficacious remedy for this disease,

the future will show. What I have said here after the election of M.

Louis Napoléon Bonaparte, I should have equally said, without the

slightest alteration, if General Cavaignac had been elected. It is not

to individuals, but to society itself, that great social truths are

addressed.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

PAGE

WHAT IS THE SOURCE OF THE PREVALENT EVIL? 1

CHAPTER II.

WHAT IS THE DUTY OF GOVERNMENT WITH RESPECT

TO DEMOCRACY? 7

CHAPTER III.

OF THE DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC 15

CHAPTER IV.

OF THE SOCIAL REPUBLIC 25

CHAPTER V.

WHAT ARE THE REAL AND ESSENTIAL ELEMENTS OF

SOCIETY IN FRANCE? 36

CHAPTER VI.

POLITICAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE IN FRANCE 56

CHAPTER VII.

MORAL CONDITIONS OF SOCIAL PEACE IN FRANCE 70

CHAPTER VIII.

CONCLUSION 84

DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE.

CHAPTER I.

WHAT IS THE SOURCE OF THE PREVALENT EVIL?

Mirabeau, Barnave, Napoleon, and Lafayette, who died at distant and very

dissimilar periods, in bed or on the scaffold, in their own country or

in exile, all died under the influence of one sentiment--a sentiment of

profound melancholy. They thought their hopes deceived, their labours

abortive. They were assailed by doubts of the success of their cause,

and by misgivings as to the future.

King Louis-Philippe reigned above seventeen years, for more than eleven

of which I had the honour to be his minister. If to-morrow it pleased

God to summon us into his presence, should we quit this earth very

confident in the future destiny and the constitutional order of our

country?

Is then the French Revolution destined to give birth only to doubt and

deception?--to bury all its triumphs under ruins?

Yes: so long as France shall suffer the true and the false, the upright

and the perverse, the practicable and the chimerical, the salutary and

the pestilent to be constantly mingled and confounded in her opinions,

her institutions, and the government of her affairs, such will be the

unfailing and inevitable result.

Until a people which has gone through a great revolution has passed on

the principles, the passions, and the doctrines which have led to this

revolution, a sentence like that which shall be passed on all human

things at the Last Day, “severing the wheat from the tares, and the corn

from the straw that shall be cast into the fire,” it can never surmount

the perils, nor reap the advantages, of the struggle in which it has

been engaged.

So long as this judgment is deferred, chaos reigns; and chaos, if

prolonged in the midst of a people, would be death.

Chaos is now concealed under one word--Democracy.

This is now the sovereign and universal word which all parties invoke,

all seek to appropriate as a talisman.

The Monarchists say, “Our Monarchy is a Democratic Monarchy: therefore

it differs essentially from the ancient Monarchy, and is adapted to the

modern condition of society.”

The Republicans say, “The Republic is Democracy governing itself. This

is the only form of government in harmony with a democratic society, its

principles, its sentiments, and its interests.”

Socialists, Communists, and Montagnards require that the republic should

be a pure and absolute democracy. This, in their estimation, is the

condition of its legitimacy.

Such is the power of the word Democracy, that no government or party

dares to raise its head, or believes its own existence possible, if it

does not bear that word inscribed on its banner; and those who carry

that banner aloft with the greatest ostentation and to the extremest

limits, believe themselves to be stronger than all the rest of the

world.

Fatal idea, which incessantly excites and foments social war amongst us!

This idea must be extirpated; for on its extirpation depends social

peace, and, in her train, liberty, security, prosperity, dignity, all

the benefits, material or moral, which social peace alone can ensure.

The following are the causes to which the word _democracy_ owes its

power.

It is the banner of all the social hopes and ambitions of man,--pure or

impure, noble or base, rational or irrational, possible or chimerical.

Now it is the glory of man to be ambitious. He alone, of all created

beings, does not passively resign himself to evil; he alone incessantly

aspires after good; not only for himself, but for his fellow-creatures.

He respects and loves the race to which he belongs; he wishes to find a

remedy for their miseries, and redress for their wrongs.

But man is no less imperfect than he is ambitious. Amidst his ardent and

unceasing struggles to eradicate evil and to achieve good, every one of

his virtuous inclinations is accompanied by an evil inclination which

treads closely on its heels, or strives with it for precedence. The

desire for justice and the desire for vengeance--the spirit of liberty

and the spirit of tyranny--the wish to rise and the wish to abase what

has risen--the ardent love of truth and the presumptuous temerity of

fancied knowledge;--we may fathom all the depths of human nature; we

shall find throughout, the same mingled yet conflicting qualities, the

same danger from their close and easy approximation.

To all these instincts, at once contrary and parallel,--to all

indiscriminately, the bad as well as the good,--the word _Democracy_

holds out an interminable vista and infinite promises. It fosters every

propensity, it speaks to every passion, of the heart of man; to the most

generous and the most shameful, the most moral and the most immoral, the

gentlest and the harshest, the most beneficent and the most

destructive: to the former it loudly offers, to the latter it secretly

and dimly promises, satisfaction.

Such is the secret of its power.

I am wrong in saying, the secret. The word _Democracy_ is not new, and

in all ages it has signified what it signifies now. But what is new and

proper to our times is this: the word _Democracy_ is now pronounced

every day, every hour, and in every place; and at every time and place

it is heard by all men. This formidable appeal to all that is most

potent, for good and for evil, in man and in society, was formerly heard

only transiently, locally, and among certain classes, which, though

bound to other classes by the ties of a common country, were distinct

and profoundly different from them. They lived at a distance from each

other; each obscurely known to the other. Now there is but one society;

and in this society there are no more lofty barriers, no more great

distances, no more mutual obscurities. Whether it be false or true,

noxious or salutary, when once a social idea arises, it penetrates

everywhere, and its action is universal and constant. It is a torch that

is never extinguished; a voice that is never wearied or hushed.

Universality and publicity are from henceforth the conditions of all the

great provocations addressed to men,--of all the great impulses given to

society.

This is doubtless one of those absolute and sovereign facts which enter

into the designs of God with regard to mankind.

Such being the fact, the empire of the word _Democracy_ is not

to be regarded as a transitory or local accident. It is the

development--others would say the explosion--of all the elements of

human nature throughout all the ranks and all the depths of society; and

consequently the open, general, continuous, inevitable struggle of its

good and evil instincts; of its virtues and its vices; of all its powers

and faculties, whether to improve or to corrupt, to raise or to abase,

to create or to destroy. Such is, from henceforth, the social state, the

permanent condition of our nation.

Democracy in France. January 1849 · 第 1 / 8 章