The philosophers who study the causes of important events have said that, in some way, each century carries within it the century that will follow. This bold metaphor covers an important truth that has been confirmed by the history of Athens: the century of laws and virtues prepared that of valor and glory, in turn producing a century of conquests and luxury, which finished with the destruction of the republic.
The deeply philosophic thought can be applied to the history of all peoples. The tyrannical humiliations and bloodthirsty barbarity of Richelieu laid the groundwork for the despotism of Louis XIV. That century of great men was the work of the literary and religious debates that had preceded it. It is in the eye of the storm that the nature and policy of empires, the laws and all human institutions are regenerated, and that the sciences grow with renewed vigor. The nation, sagging beneath the weight of its misfortunes, crushed by its disgrace and caught up in terror and superstition, whimpered for a fragile and fleeting glory which it acquired at the cost of the people's future, the price of their blood, and the prosperity of the empire. Its gloomy silence evidenced its pain. For a few years, the call of the monarchy relieved the nation of this distressing state, only to deliver it up to the convulsions of madness and cupidity. The squanderings of Louis XIV gave birth to this system. The French, bent beneath the yoke, nevertheless endured the vices and errors of the government with incredible patience. The sacred and inalienable rights of the People were relegated to the museums of science and art as if they were curiosities to behold, things rendered useless by the long period of slavery. Thus was the reasoning that suspended any public demands during the entire reign of Louis XV. During the final years of that monarch the nation lost almost all of its morality. Corruption spread out from the base of the throne to almost all classes of society. Finally, the limit of arbitrary excesses of power had been reached. The horrible financial disarray rendered the required severe reform inevitable. This is how the course of events is played out: not by fortuitous syntheses, but by a primary and irrefutable impulse. It is very true that extremes come full circle.
It is no wonder therefore, that with these ideas of every thing in their constitution and government at home, either in church or state, as illegitimate and usurped, or at best as a vain mockery, they look abroad with an eager and passionate enthusiasm. Whilst they are possessed by these notions, it is vain to talk to them of the practice of their ancestors, the fundamental laws of their country, the fixed form of a constitution, whose merits are confirmed by the solid test of long experience, and an increasing public strength and national prosperity. They despise experience as the wisdom of unlettered men; and as for the rest, they have wrought under-ground a mine that will blow up at one grand explosion all examples of antiquity, all precedents, charters, and acts of parliament. They have "the rights of men." Against these there can be no prescription; against these no argument is binding: these admit no temperament, and no compromise: any thing withheld from their full demand is so much of fraud and injustice.
Against these rights of men let no government look for security in the length of its continuance, or in the justice and lenity of its administration. The objections of these speculatists, if its forms do not quadrate with their theories, are as valid against such an old and beneficent government as against the most violent tyranny or the greenest usurpation. They are always at issue with governments, not on a question of abuse, but a question of competency and a question of title. I have nothing to say to the clumsy subtilty of their political metaphysics. . . .
Far am I from denying in theory, full as far is my heart from withholding in practice (if I were of power to give or to withhold) the real rights of men. In denying their false claims of right, I do not mean to injure those which are real, and are such as their pretended rights would totally destroy. If civil society be made for the advantage of man, all the advantages for which it is made become his right. It is an institution of beneficence; and law itself is only beneficence acting by a rule. Men have a right to live by that rule; they have a right to do justice, as between their fellows, whether their fellows are in public function or in ordinary occupation. They have a right to the fruits of their industry and to the means of making their industry fruitful. They have a right to the acquisitions of their parents, to the nourishment and improvement of their offspring, to instruction in life, and to consolation in death. Whatever each man can separately do, without trespassing upon others, he has a right to do for himself; and he has a right to a fair portion of all which society, with all its combinations of skill and force, can do in his favor. In this partnership all men have equal rights, but not to equal things. He that has but five shillings in the partnership has as good a right to it as he that has five hundred pounds has to his larger proportion. But he has not a right to an equal dividend in the product of the joint stock; and as to the share of power, authority, and direction which each individual ought to have in the management of the state, that I must deny to be amongst the direct original rights of man in civil society; for I have in my contemplation the civil social man, and no other. It is a thing to be settled by convention.
If civil society be the offspring of convention, that convention must be its law. That convention must limit and modify all the descriptions of constitution which are formed under it. Every sort of legislative, judicial, or executory power are its creatures. They can have no being in any other state of things; and how can any man claim under the conventions of civil society rights which do not so much as suppose its existence—rights which are absolutely repugnant to it? One of the first motives to civil society, and which becomes one of its fundamental rules, is that no man should be judge in his own cause. By this each person has at once divested himself of the first fundamental right of uncovenanted man, that is, to judge for himself and to assert his own cause. He abdicates all right to be his own governor. He inclusively, in a great measure, abandons the right of self-defense, the first law of nature. Men cannot enjoy the rights of an uncivil and of a civil state together. That he may obtain justice, he gives up his right of determining what it is in points the most essential to him. That he may secure some liberty, he makes a surrender in trust of the whole of it.
Government is not made in virtue of natural rights, which may and do exist in total independence of it, and exist in much greater clearness and in a much greater degree of abstract perfection; but their abstract perfection is their practical defect. By having a right to everything they want everything. Government is a contrivance of human wisdom to provide for human wants. Men have a right that these wants should be provided for by this wisdom. Among these wants is to be reckoned the want, out of civil society, of a sufficient restraint upon their passions. Society requires not only that the passions of individuals should be subjected, but that even in the mass and body, as well as in the individuals, the inclinations of men should frequently be thwarted, their will controlled, and their passions brought into subjection. This can only be done by a power out of themselves, and not, in the exercise of its function, subject to that will and to those passions which it is its office to bridle and subdue. In this sense the restraints on men, as well as their liberties, are to be reckoned among their rights. But as the liberties and the restrictions vary with times and circumstances and admit to infinite modifications, they cannot be settled upon any abstract rule; and nothing is so foolish as to discuss them upon that principle.
The moment you abate anything from the full rights of men, each to govern himself, and suffer any artificial, positive limitation upon those rights, from that moment the whole organization of government becomes a consideration of convenience. This it is which makes the constitution of a state and the due distribution of its powers a matter of the most delicate and complicated skill. It requires a deep knowledge of human nature and human necessities, and of the things which facilitate or obstruct the various ends which are to be pursued by the mechanism of civil institutions. The state is to have recruits to its strength, and remedies to its distempers. What is the use of discussing a man's abstract right to food or medicine? The question is upon the method of procuring and administering them. In that deliberation I shall always advise to call in the aid of the farmer and the physician rather than the professor of metaphysics.
The science of constructing a commonwealth, or renovating it, or reforming it, is, like every other experimental science, not to be taught a priori. Nor is it a short experience that can instruct us in that practical science, because the real effects of moral causes are not always immediate . . . .
The nature of man is intricate; the objects of society are of the greatest possible complexity; and, therefore, no simple disposition or direction of power can be suitable either to man's nature or to the quality of his affairs. When I hear the simplicity of contrivance aimed at and boasted of in any new political constitutions, I am at no loss to decide that the artificers are grossly ignorant of their trade or totally negligent of their duty. . . .
The rights of men are in a sort of middle, incapable of definition, but not impossible to be discerned. . . .
But now all is to be changed. All the pleasing illusions which made power gentle and obedience liberal, which harmonized the different shades of life, and which, by a bland assimilation, incorporated into politics the sentiments which beautify and soften private society, are to be dissolved by this new conquering empire of light and reason. All the decent drapery of life is to be rudely torn off. All the super-added ideas, furnished from the wardrobe of a moral imagination, which the heart owns and the understanding ratifies as necessary to cover the defects of our naked, shivering nature, and to raise it to dignity in our own estimation, are to be exploded as a ridiculous, absurd, and antiquated fashion. . . .
But power, of some kind or other, will survive the shock in which manners and opinions perish; and it will find other and worse means for its support. The usurpation which, in order to subvert ancient institutions, has destroyed ancient principles will hold power by arts similar to those by which it has acquired it. When the old feudal and chivalrous spirit of fealty, which, by freeing kings from fear, freed both kings and subjects from the precautions of tyranny, shall be extinct in the minds of men, plots and assassinations will be anticipated by preventive murder and preventive confiscation, and that long roll of grim and bloody maxims which form the political code of all power not standing on its own honor and the honor of those who are to obey it. Kings will be tyrants from policy when subjects are rebels from principle. . . .
We are but too apt to consider things in the state in which we find them, without sufficiently adverting to the causes by which they have been produced and possibly may be upheld. Nothing is more certain than that our manners, our civilization, and all the good things which are connected with manners and with civilization have, in this European world of ours, depended for ages upon two principles and were, indeed, the result of both combined: I mean the spirit of a gentleman and the spirit of religion. The nobility and the clergy, the one by profession, the other by patronage, kept learning in existence, even in the midst of arms and confusions, and whilst governments were rather in their causes than formed. Learning paid back what it received to nobility and to priesthood, and paid it with usury, by enlarging their ideas and by furnishing their minds. Happy if they had all continued to know their indissoluble union and their proper place! Happy if learning, not debauched by ambition, had been satisfied to continue the instructor, and not aspired to be the master! Along with its natural protectors and guardians, learning will be cast into the mire and trodden down under the hoofs of a swinish multitude.
See the fate of Bailly and Condorcet, supposed to be here particularly alluded to. Compare the circumstances of the trial and execution of the former with this prediction. . . .
I wish you may not be going fast, and by the shortest cut, to that horrible and disgustful situation. Already there appears a poverty of conception, a coarseness, and a vulgarity in all the proceedings of the Assembly and of all their instructors. Their liberty is not liberal. Their science is presumptuous ignorance. Their humanity is savage and brutal.
Monsieur le Baron de Breteuil, knowing the full extent of your zeal and fidelity and wishing to give you renewed proof of my confidence, I have chosen to confide the interests of my crown to you. Since circumstances do not allow me to give you my instructions on this or that matter or to have a continuous correspondence with you, I am sending you this letter as a symbol of plenipotential powers and authorization vis-à-vis the various powers with whom you may have to deal on my behalf. You know my intentions and I leave it to your discretion to make such use of these powers as you deem necessary for the good of my service. I approve of everything that you do to achieve my aims, which are the restoration of my legitimate authority and the happiness of my People. Upon which, Monsieur le Baron, I pray God that He keep you in His holy protection.
The calling of the Estates-General, the doubling of the deputies of the Third Estate, the efforts which the King made to clear up the difficulties which might delay the meeting of the Estates-General, and those which arose after its opening, all the retrenchments which the King made in his personal expenditure, all the sacrifices which he made for his people in the session of June 3rd, finally the union of the orders, brought about by the expression of the King's desire, a measure which His Majesty then judged indispensable for the inauguration of the Estates-General: all his anxiety, all his efforts, all his generosity, all his devotion to his people, all have been disparaged, all have been misconstrued.
The time when the Estates-General, assuming the name of the National Assembly, began to busy itself with the constitution of the kingdom, calls to mind the memoirs which the factious were cunning enough to cause to be sent from several provinces and the movements of Paris to cause the deputies to disregard one of the principal clauses contained in all their cahiers, which provided that the making of the laws should be done in concert with the King. In defiance of that clause, the assembly put the King entirely outside the constitution, in refusing to him the right to grant or to withhold his sanction to the articles which it regarded as constitutional, while reserving to itself the right to reckon in that class those which it thought belonged there, and by restraining for those regarded as purely legislative the royal prerogative to a right of suspension until the third legislature; a purely illusory right, as so many examples prove only too fully.
Justice is rendered in the name of the King . . . but it is only a matter of form. . . . One of the latest decrees of the assembly has deprived the King of one of the fairest prerogatives everywhere attached to royal power, that of pardoning and commuting penalties. . . .
Internal administration. It is entirely in the hands of the departments, districts, and municipalities, too many authorities, who clog the movement of the machine and often thwart each other. All these bodies are elected by the people, and have no relations with the government, according to the decrees, except for their execution and for those special orders which are issued in consequence thereof. . . .
Finances. The King had declared, even before the meeting of the Estates-General, that he recognized in the assemblies of the nation the right to grant subsidies, and that he no longer desired to tax the people without their consent.
But the nearer we see the assembly approach the end of its labors, the more we see increased measures which make difficult or even impossible the carrying on of the government and create for it lack of confidence and disfavor; other regulations, instead of applying balm to the wounds which still bleed in many provinces only increase the uneasiness and provoke discontent. The spirit of the clubs dominates and invades everything; thousands of calumniating and incendiary newspapers and pamphlets, which increase daily, are only their echoes and prepare men to become what they wish them to be. The National Assembly has never dared to remedy that license, so far removed from true liberty; it has lost its credit, and even the force of which it would have need in order to turn upon its steps and to change that which would seem to it well to correct. We see by the spirit which reigns in the clubs, and the manner in which they make themselves masters of the new primary assemblies, what must be expected from them; and if they allow to become perceptible any inclinations to turn back upon any matter, it is in order to destroy the remainder of the monarchy and establish a metaphysical and philosophical government impossible to put into operation.
In view of all these reasons and the impossibility for the King, from the position in which he is placed, effecting the good and preventing the evil which is perpetrated, is it astonishing that the King has sought to recover his liberty and to put himself and his family in safety?
Frenchmen, and especially Parisians, you inhabitants of a city which the ancestors of His Majesty were pleased to call the good city of Paris, distrust the suggestions and lies of your false friends; return to your King; he will always be your father, your best friend: what pleasure will he not take in forgetting all his personal injuries, and in beholding himself again in the midst of you, when a constitution, which he shall have freely accepted, shall cause your religion to be respected, the government to be established upon a firm footing and made useful by its operation, the property and status of each person no longer disturbed, the laws no longer violated with impunity, and, finally, liberty founded upon firm and immovable foundations.
Signed, Louis
Paris, 20 June 1791.
The King forbids his ministers signing any order in his name, until they receive further orders; he commands the keeper of the seal of the state to send it to him, as soon as may be required on his part.
Signed, Louis
Paris, 20 June 1791.
Decree for the Arrest of the King. 17 June 1791.
The National Assembly orders that the minister of the interior shall immediately send couriers into all the departments, with orders to all the public functionaries and the national guards or troops of the line of the kingdom, to arrest or cause the arrest of all persons whomsoever leaving the realm, as well as to prevent all removal of goods, arms, munitions of war, and every species of gold, silver, horses, vehicles and munitions of war; and, in case the said couriers should encounter any persons of the royal family and those who may have assisted in their removal, the said public functionaries or national guards and troops of the line shall be required to take all the necessary measures to stop the said removal, to prevent them from continuing their route, and to render account of everything to the legislative body.
I am sure Your Majesty will have learned, with as much surprise and indignation as I, of the unprecedented outrage of the arrest of the King of France, of my sister the Queen, and of the Royal Family. I am also sure your sentiments cannot differ from mine with regard to this event which immediately compromises the honor of all sovereigns and the security of all governments by inspiring fear of still more dreadful acts to follow, and by placing the seal of illegality upon previous excesses in France.
I am determined to fulfill my obligation as to these considerations, both as chosen head of the Germanic State, with its support, and as Sovereign of the Austrian states. I therefore propose to you, as I propose to the Kings of Spain, England, Prussia, Naples, and Sardinia, as well as to the Empress of Russia, to unite with them and me to consult on cooperation and measures to restore the liberty and honor of the Most Christian King and his family, and to limit the dangerous extremes of the French Revolution.
The most pressing [need] appears to be our immediate cooperation . . . having our ministers in France deliver a common declaration, or numerous similar and simultaneous declarations, which may curb the leaders of the violent party and forestall desperate decisions. This will still leave them an opportunity for honest repentance and for the peaceful establishment of a regime in France that will preserve at least the dignity of the crown and the essential requirements for general tranquillity. For this purpose, I propose to Your Majesty the plan annexed hereto which appears to me satisfactory.
However, since the success of such a declaration is problematical, and since complete success can be assured only in so far as we are prepared to support it by sufficiently respectable means, my Minister to Your Majesty will receive at once the necessary instructions to discuss with your Minister such agreement on vigorous measures as circumstances may require. I also intend to have him inform you concerning the replies of the other powers as soon as I have received them.
I regard it as an infinitely precious advantage that the disposition they all show for the reestablishment of peace and harmony gives promise to the removal of the obstacles which might be detrimental to the unanimity of the views and sentiments concerning an event so closely associated with the welfare of all Europe.
Signed, Leopold
Plan of the Common Declaration
Padua, 5 July 1791.
The undersigned are charged with making known, on the part of their sovereigns, the following:
That, notwithstanding the notorious deeds of constraint and violence which have preceded and succeeded the acts of consent granted by the King of France to the decrees of the National Assembly, they had nevertheless still wished to withhold their opinion concerning the degree to which such consent represented, or did not represent, the conviction and free will of His Most Christian Majesty. But the effort undertaken by that prince to set himself at liberty, being a most certain proof of the state of confinement in which he found himself, no longer left any doubt that he had been forced to do violence to his religion in several respects, at the same time that the last outrage, the formal arrest of Him and of the Queen, the Dauphin, and Madame Elizabeth, inspires legitimate fears concerning the ulterior undertakings of the dominant party.
That the said sovereigns, unable to delay any longer the manifestation of sentiments and resolutions which, under the circumstances, the honor of their crowns, the ties of blood, and the maintenance of the public order and peace of Europe require of them, have ordered their undersigned ministers to declare:
That they demand that this prince and his family be set at liberty immediately, and that they claim for all said royal persons the inviolability and respect which the law of nature and of men imposes upon subjects towards their princes;
That they will unite in order to avenge in a forceful manner any future outrages which may be committed, or may be allowed to be committed, against the security, the person, and the honor of the King, the Queen, and the Royal Family.
That, finally, they will recognize as law and as a constitution legally established in France only those [measures] which they find bearing the voluntary approval of the King, in the enjoyment of perfect liberty; but that, in the contrary case, they will employ in concert all the means within their power to bring to an end the scandal of an usurpation of power which bears the character of an open revolt, and the disastrous example of which it is important for all governments to check.