The Ancient Regime | Page 9

personal taste could not be
valid for everyone. It seemed to me that a house should not be built for
the architect alone, or for itself, but for the owner who was to live in it.
Referring to the owner for his advice, that is submitting to the French
people the plans of its future habitation, would evidently be either for
show or just to deceive them; since the question, obviously, was put in
such a manner that it provided the answer in advance. Besides, had the
people been allowed to reply in all liberty, their response was in any
case not of much value since France was scarcely more competent than
I was; the combined ignorance of ten millions is not the equivalent of
one man's wisdom. A people may be consulted and, in an extreme case,
may declare what form of government it would like best, but not that
which it most needs. Nothing but experience can determine this; it must
have time to ascertain whether the political structure is convenient,
substantial, able to withstand inclemency, and adapted to customs,
habits, occupations, characters, peculiarities and caprices. For example,
the one we have tried has never satisfied us; we have during eighty
years demolished it thirteen times, each time setting it up anew, and
always in vain, for never have we found one that suited us. If other
nations have been more fortunate, or if various political structures
abroad have proved stable and enduring, it is because these have been
erected in a special way. Founded on some primitive, massive pile,
supported by an old central edifice, often restored but always preserved,
gradually enlarged, and, after numerous trials and additions, they have
been adapted to the wants of its occupants. It is well to admit, perhaps,
that there is no other way of erecting a permanent building. Never has
one been put up instantaneously, after an entirely new design, and
according to the measurements of pure Reason. A sudden contrivance
of a new, suitable, and enduring constitution is an enterprise beyond the
forces of the human mind.
In any event, I came to the conclusion that if we should ever discover
the one we need it would not be through some fashionable theory. The
point is, if it exists, to discover it, and not to put it to a vote. To do that
would not only be pretentious it would be useless; history and nature
will do it for us; it is for us to adapt ourselves to them, as it is certain
they will accommodate themselves to us. The social and political mold,
into which a nation may enter and remain, is not subject to its will, but

determined by its character and its past. It is essential that, even in its
least traits, it should be shaped on the living material to which it is
applied; otherwise it will burst and fall to pieces. Hence, if we should
succeed in finding ours, it will only be through a study of ourselves,
while the more we understand exactly what we are, the more certainly
shall we distinguish what best suits us. We ought, therefore, to reverse
the ordinary methods, and form some conception of the nation before
formulating its constitution. Doubtless the first operation is much more
tedious and difficult than the second. How much time, how much study,
how many observations rectified one by the other, how many
researches in the past and the present, over all the domains of thought
and of action, what manifold and age-long labors before we can obtain
an accurate and complete idea of a great people. A people which has
lived a people's age, and which still lives! But it is the only way to
avoid the unsound construction based on a meaningless planning. I
promised myself that, for my own part, if I should some day undertake
to form a political opinion, it would be only after having studied
France.
What is contemporary France? To answer this question we must know
how this France is formed, or, what is still better, to act as spectator at
its formation. At the end of the last century (in 1789), like a molting
insect, it underwent a metamorphosis. Its ancient organization is
dissolved; it tears away its most precious tissues and falls into
convulsions, which seem mortal. Then, after multiplied throes and a
painful lethargy, it re-establishes itself. But its organization is no longer
the same: by silent interior travail a new being is substituted for the old.
In 1808, its leading characteristics are decreed and defined:
departments, arondissements, cantons and communes, no change have
since taken place in its exterior divisions and functions. Concordat,
Code, Tribunals, University, Institute, Prefects, Council of State, Taxes,
Collectors, Cours des Comptes, a uniform and centralized
administration, its