Beacon Lights of History, Volume 09 | Page 6

their side.
The deputies of the Third Estate were bent on the destruction of
feudalism, as the only way to remedy the national evils, which were so
glaring and overwhelming. They probably knew that their proceedings
were unconstitutional and illegal, but thought that their acts would be
sanctioned by their patriotic intentions. They were resolved to secure
what seemed to them rights, and thought little of duties. If these
inestimable and vital rights should be granted without usurpation, they
would be satisfied; if not, then they would resort to usurpation. To them
their course seemed to be dictated by the "higher law." What to them
were legalities that perpetuated wrongs? The constitution was made for
man, not man for the constitution.
Had the three orders deliberated together in one hall, although against
precedent and legality, the course of revolution might have been
directed into a different channel; or if an able and resolute king had
been on the throne, he might have united with the people against the

nobles, and secured all the reforms that were imperative, without
invoking revolution; or he might have dispersed the deputies at the
point of the bayonet, and raised taxes by arbitrary imposition, as able
despots have ever done. We cannot penetrate the secrets of Providence.
It may have been ordered in divine justice and wisdom that the French
people should work out their own deliverance in their own way, in
mistakes, in suffering, and in violence, and point the eternal moral that
inexperience, vanity, and ignorance are fatal to sound legislation, and
sure to lead to errors which prove disastrous; that national progress is
incompatible with crime; that evils can only gradually be removed; that
wickedness ends in violence.
A majority of the deputies meant well. They were earnest, patriotic, and
enthusiastic. But they knew nothing of the science of government or of
constitution-making, which demand the highest maturity of experience
and wisdom. As I have said, nearly four hundred of them were country
lawyers, as conceited as they were inexperienced. Both Mirabeau and
Sieyès had a supreme contempt for them as a whole. They wanted what
they called rights, and were determined to get them any way they could,
disregarding obstacles, disregarding forms and precedents. And they
were backed up and urged forward by ignorant mobs, and wicked
demagogues who hated the throne, the clergy, and the nobles. Hence
the deputies made mistakes. They could see nothing better than
unscrupulous destruction. And they did not know how to reconstruct.
They were bewildered and embarrassed, and listened to the orators of
the Palais Royal.
The first thing of note which occurred when they resolved to call
themselves the National Assembly and not the Third Estate, which they
were only, was done by Mirabeau. He ascended the tribune, when
Brézé, the master of ceremonies, came with a message from the King
for them to join the other orders, and said in his voice of melodious
thunder, "We are here by the command of the people, and will only
disperse by the force of bayonets." From that moment, till his death, he
ruled the Assembly. The disconcerted messenger returned to his
sovereign. What did the King say at this defiance of royal authority?
Did he rise in wrath and indignation, and order his guards to disperse

the rebels? No; the amiable King said meekly, "Well, let them remain
there." What a king for such stormy times! O shade of Richelieu, thy
work has perished! Rousseau, a greater genius than thou wert, hath
undermined the institutions and the despotism of two hundred years.
Only two courses were now open to the King,--this weak and
kind-hearted Louis XVI., heir of a hundred years' misrule,--if he would
maintain his power. One was to join the reformers and co-operate in
patriotic work, assisted by progressive ministers, whatever opposition
might be raised by nobles and priests; and the second was to arm
himself and put down the deputies. But how could this weak-minded
sovereign co-operate with plebeians against the orders which sustained
his throne? And if he used violence, he inaugurated civil war, which
would destroy thousands where revolution destroyed hundreds.
Moreover, the example of Charles I. was before him. He dared not run
the risk. In such a torrent of revolutionary forces, when even regular
troops fraternized with citizens, that experiment was dangerous. And
then he was tender-hearted, and shrank from shedding innocent blood.
His queen, Marie Antoinette, the intrepid daughter of Maria Theresa,
with her Austrian proclivities, would have kept him firm and sustained
him by her courageous counsels; but her influence was neutralized by
popular ministers. Necker, the prosperous banker, the fortunate
financier, advised half measures. Had he conciliated Mirabeau, who led
the Assembly, then even the throne might have been saved. But he
detested and mistrusted the mighty