The Eve of the French Revolution | Page 4

Every monarch, however despotic in theory, is in fact surrounded by
many barriers which it takes a strong man to overleap. And so it was
with the king of France. Although he was the fountain of justice, his
judicial powers were exercised through magistrates many of whom had
bought their places, and could therefore not be dispossessed without
measures that were felt to be unjust and almost revolutionary. The
breaking up of the Parliament of Paris, in the latter years of the
preceding reign, had thrown the whole body of judges and lawyers into
a state of discontent bordering on revolt. The new court of justice
which had superseded the old one, the Parlement Maupeou as it was
called, after the name of the chancellor who had advised its formation,
was neither liked nor respected. It was one of the first acts of the
government of Louis XVI. to restore the ancient Parliament of Paris,
whose rights over legislation will be considered later, but which
exercised at least a certain moral restraint on the royal authority.
But it was in the administrative part of the government, where the king
seemed most free, that he was in fact most hampered. A vast system of
public offices had been gradually formed, with regulations, traditions,
and a professional spirit. This it was which had displaced the old feudal

order, substituting centralization for vigorous local life.
The king's councils, which had become the central governing power of
the state, were five in number. They were, however, closely connected
together. The king himself was supposed to sit in all of them, and
appears to have attended three with tolerable regularity. When there
was a prime minister, he also sat in the three that were most important.
The controller of the finances was a member of four of the councils,
and the chancellor of three at least. As these were the most important
men in the government, their presence in the several councils secured
unity of action. The boards, moreover, were small, not exceeding nine
members in the case of the first four in dignity and power: the Councils
of State, of Despatches, of Finance, and of Commerce. The fifth, the
Privy Council, or Council of Parties, was larger, and served in a
measure as a training-school for the others. It comprised, beside all the
members of the superior councils, thirty councilors of state, several
intendants of finance, and eighty lawyers known as maitres des
requetes. [Footnote: De Lucay, _Les Secrétaires d'État, 418, 419, 424,
442, 448, 449.]
The functions of the various councils were not clearly defined and
distinguished. Many questions would be submitted to one or another of
them as chance or influence might direct. Under each there were a
number of public offices, called bureaux, where business was prepared,
and where the smaller matters were practically settled. By the royal
councils and their subordinate public offices, France was governed to
an extent and with a minuteness hardly comprehensible to any one not
accustomed to centralized government.
The councils did nothing in their own name. The king it was who
nominally settled everything with their advice. The final decision of
every question was supposed to rest with the monarch himself. Every
important matter was in fact submitted to him. Thus in the government
of the country, the king could at any moment take as much of the
burden upon his own shoulders as they were strong enough to bear.
The legislative power was exercised by the councils. It was a question
not entirely settled whether their edicts possessed full force of law

without the assent of the high courts or parliaments. But with the
councils rested, at least, all the initiative of legislation. The process of
lawmaking began with them, and by them the laws were shaped and
drafted.
They also possessed no small part of the judiciary power. The custom
of removing private causes from the regular courts, and trying them
before one or another of the royal councils, was a great and, I think, a
growing one. This appellate jurisdiction was due in theory partly to the
doctrine that the king was the origin of justice; and partly to the idea
that political matters could not safely be left to ordinary tribunals. The
notion that the king owes justice to all his subjects and that it is an act
of grace, perhaps even a duty on his part, to administer it in person
when it is possible to do so, is as old as monarchy itself.
Solomon in his palace, Saint Louis under his oak, when they decided
between suitors before them, were exercising the inherent rights of
sovereignty, as understood in their day. The late descendants of the
royal saint did not decide causes themselves except on rare occasions,
but in questions between