It may be said, then, that except during the brief period of Irish semi-independence (1782-1801), the British Parliament governed not only Great Britain, but Ireland and the crown colonies as well. How the British monarchy was governed, we have now to discover.

[Sidenote: The King and his Nominal Powers]

In theory the king was still the ruler of his kingdom. In his name all laws were made, treaties sealed, governmental officials appointed. Like other monarchs, he had his "Privy Councilors" to advise him, and ministers (Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Secretaries of State, the Lord Chancellor, etc.) to supervise various details of central administration. But this was largely a matter of form. In fact, the kings of Great Britain had lost most of their power, and retained only their dignity; they were becoming figureheads.

[Sidenote: The British Constitution]

Ever since the signing of Magna Carta, back in 1215, the English people had been exacting from their sovereigns written promises by which the crown surrendered certain powers. Greatest progress in this direction had been made amid those stirring scenes of the seventeenth century which have been described already in the chapter on the Triumph of Parliamentary Government in England. In addition to formal documents, there had been slowly evolved a body of customs and usages, which were almost as sacred and binding as if they had been inscribed on parchment. Taken together, these written and customary limitations on royal authority were called the "British Constitution."

[Sidenote: Limitations on the Actual Powers of the King]

This Constitution limited the king's power in four important ways. (1) It deprived him of the right to levy taxes. For his household expenses he was now granted an allowance, called the Civil List. William III, for instance, was allowed L700,000 pounds a year. (2) The king had no right either to make laws on his own responsibility or to prevent laws being made against his will. The sovereign's prerogative to veto Parliament's bills still existed in theory, but was not exercised after the reign of Queen Anne. (3) The king had lost control of the judicial system (i.e., the courts): he could not remove judges even if they gave decisions unfavorable to him; and the Habeas Corpus Act of 1679 provided that any one thrown into prison should be told why, and given a fair legal trial. (4) The king could not maintain a standing army without consent of Parliament. These restrictions made Great Britain a "limited," rather than an "absolute," monarchy.

[Sidenote: Parliament]

The powers taken from the king were now exercised by Parliament. The constitutional conflict of the seventeenth century had left Parliament not only in enjoyment of freedom of speech for its members but with full power to levy taxes, to make laws, to remove or retain judges, and essentially to determine the policy of the government in war and in peace. Parliament had even taken upon itself on one celebrated occasion (1689) to deprive a monarch of his "divine right" to rule, to establish a new sovereign, and to decree that never again should Great Britain have a king of the Roman Catholic faith.

French philosophers who saw so much power vested in a representative body could not be too loud in their praise of "English liberty." Had they investigated more closely, these same observers might have learned to their surprise that Parliament represented the people of Great Britain only in name.

[Sidenote: Undemocratic Character of Parliament]

As we have seen in an earlier chapter [Footnote: See above, pp. 265 f.], Parliament consisted of two legislative assemblies or "Houses," neither one of which could make laws without the consent of the other. One of these houses, the House of Lords, was frankly aristocratic and undemocratic. Its members were the "lords spiritual"—rich and influential bishops of the Anglican Church,—and the "lords temporal," or peers, haughty descendants of the ancient feudal nobles or haughtier heirs of millionaires recently ennobled by the king. [Footnote: A peer was technically a titled noble who possessed an hereditary seat in the House of Lords. George III created many peers: at his death there were over 300 in all.] These proud gentlemen were mainly landlords, and as a class they were almost as selfish and undemocratic as the courtiers of France.

But, the French philosopher replies, the representatives of the people are found in the lower house, the House of Commons; the peers merely give stability to the government. Let us see.

One thing at least is certain, that in the eighteenth century the majority of the people of Great Britain had no voice in choosing their "representatives." In the country, the "knights of the shire" were supposedly elected, two for each shire or county. But a man could not vote unless he had an estate worth an annual rent of forty shillings, and, since the same amount of money would then buy a good deal more than nowadays, forty shillings was a fairly large sum. Persons who could vote were often afraid to vote independently, and frequently they sold their vote to a rich noble, so that many "knights of the shire" were practically named by the landed aristocracy, the wealthy and titled landlords.

Matters were even worse in the towns, or "boroughs." By no means all of the towns had representation. Moreover, for the towns that did choose their two members to sit in the House of Commons, no method of election was prescribed by law; but each borough followed its own custom. In one town the aristocratic municipal corporation would choose the representatives; in another place the gilds would control the election; and in yet another city there might be a few so-called "freemen" (of course everybody was free,—"freeman" was a technical term for a member of the town corporation) who had the right to vote, and sold their votes regularly for about L5 apiece. In general the town representatives were named by a few well-to-do politicians, while the common 'prentices and journeymen worked uninterruptedly at their benches. It has been estimated that fewer than 1500 persons controlled a majority in the House of Commons.

In many places a nobleman or a clique of townsmen appointed their candidates without even the formality of an election. In other places, where rival influences clashed, bribery would decide the day. For in contested elections, the voting lasted forty days, during which time the price of votes might rise to L25 or more. Votes might be purchased with safety, too, for voting was public and any one might learn from the poll-book how each man had voted. Not infrequently it cost several thousand pounds to carry such an election.

[Sidenote: "Rotten Boroughs"]

We may summarize these evils by saying that the peasants and artisans generally were not allowed to vote, and that the methods of election gave rise to corruption. But this was not all. There was neither rhyme nor reason to be found in the distribution of representation between different sections of the country. Old Sarum had once been a prosperous village and had been accorded representation, but after the village had disappeared, leaving to view but a lonely hill, no one in England could have told why two members should still sit for Old Sarum. Nor, for that matter, could there have been much need of representation in Parliament for the sea-coast town of Dunwich. Long ago the coast had sunk and the salt-sea waves now washed the remains of a ruined town. Bosseney in Cornwall was a hamlet of three cottages, but its citizens were entitled to send two men to Parliament.

While these decayed towns and "rotten boroughs" continued to enjoy representation, populous and opulent cities like Birmingham, Manchester, Leeds, and Sheffield were ignored. They had grown with the growth of industry, while the older towns had declined. Yet Parliamentary representation underwent no change from the days of Charles II to the third decade of the nineteenth century. Thus Parliament in the eighteenth century represented neither the different classes of society nor the masses of population. Politics was a gentleman's game. The nobleman who sat in the upper house had his dummies in the lower chamber. A certain Sir James Lowther had nine proteges in the lower house, who were commonly called "Lowther's Ninepins." A distinguished statesman of the time described the position of such a protege: "He is sent here by the lord of this or the duke of that, and if he does not obey the instructions which he receives, he is held to be a dishonest man."

[Sidenote: Parliamentary Bribery and Corruption]

Under conditions such as these it is not hard to understand how seats in Parliament were bought and sold like boxes at the opera or seats in a stock-exchange. Nor is it surprising that after having paid a small fortune for the privilege of representing the people, the worldly-wise Commoner should be willing to indemnify himself by accepting bribes, or, if perchance his tender conscience forbade monetary bribes, by accepting a government post with fat salary and few duties except to vote with the government.

[Sidenote: The Cabinet]

For many years (1714-1761) the arts of corruption were practiced with astonishing success by a group of clever Whig politicians. As has been noticed in an earlier chapter,[Footnote: See above, pp. 291 f.] it was to their most conspicuous leader, Sir Robert Walpole, that the first two Georges intrusted the conduct of affairs; and Walpole filled the important offices of state with his Whig friends. Likewise it has been noticed [Footnote: See above, p. 290.] that during the same period the idea of the cabinet system became more firmly fixed. Just as Walpole secured the appointment of his friends to the high offices of state, so subsequent statesmen put their supporters in office. The practice was not yet rigid, but it was customary for a dozen or so of the leaders of the faction in power to hold "cabinet" meetings, in which they decided in advance what measures should be presented to Parliament. If a measure indorsed by the cabinet should be defeated by the Commons, the leader of the party would normally resign, and the ministers he had appointed would follow his example. In other words, the cabinet acted in concert and resigned as a whole.

If the affairs of the government were all carried on by the cabinet, and if the cabinet depended for its support on the majority in the House of Commons, what remained for the king to do? Obviously, very little!

[Sidenote: British Government under George III]

George I and George II had not been averse from cabinet-government: it was easy and convenient. But George III (1760-1820) was determined to make his authority felt. He wished to preside at cabinet meetings; he outbribed the Whigs; and he repeatedly asked his ministers to resign because he disliked their policies.

Besides the friends he purchased, George III possessed a considerable number of enthusiastic and conscientious supporters. The country squires and clergy who believed in the Anglican Church and looked with distrust upon the power of corrupt Whig politicians in Parliament, were quite willing that a painstaking and gentlemanly monarch should do his own ruling. Such persons formed the backbone of the Tory party and sometimes called themselves the "king's friends." With their support and by means of a liberal use of patronage, George III was able to keep Lord North, a minister after his own heart, in power twelve years (1770-1782). But as we have learned, [Footnote: See above, pp. 332 ff.] the War of American Independence caused the downfall of Lord North, and for the next year or two, politics were in confusion. During 1782-1783 the old Whig and Tory parties [Footnote: See above, pp. 285 f.] were sadly broken up, and a new element was unmistakably infused into party- warfare by the spirit of reform.

[Sidenote: Need and Demand for Reform]

Surely, if ever a country needed reform, it was Great Britain in 1783. The country was filled with paupers maintained by the taxes; poor people might be shut up in workhouses and see their children carted off to factories; sailors were kidnapped for the royal navy; the farmhand was practically bound to the soil like a serf; over two hundred offenses, such as stealing a shilling or cutting down an apple tree, were punishable by death; religious intolerance flourished—Quakers were imprisoned and Roman Catholics were debarred from office and Parliament. And Ireland was being ruined by the selfish and obstinate minority which controlled its parliament.

But about these things English "reformers" were not much concerned. A few altruistic souls decried the traffic in black slaves, but that evil was quite far from English shores. The reform movement was chiefly directed against parliamentary corruption and received its support from the small country gentlemen who hated the great Whig owners of "pocket- boroughs," [Footnote: Boroughs whose members were named by a political "patron."] and from the lower and newer ranks of the bourgeoisie. For the small shop-keepers and tradesmen, and especially the rich manufacturers in new industrial towns like Birmingham, felt that Parliament did not represent their interests, and they set up a cry for pure politics and reformed representation.

[Sidenote: Wilkes]

The spirit of reform spread rapidly. In the 'sixties of the eighteenth century, John Wilkes, a squint-eyed and immoral but very persuasive editor, had raised a hubbub of reform talk. He had criticized the policy of George III, had been elected to Parliament, and, when the House of Commons expelled him, had insisted upon the right of the people to elect him, regardless of the will of the House. His admirers —and he had many—shouted for "Wilkes and Liberty," elected him Lord Mayor of London, and enabled him to carry his point.

The founding of four newspapers furthered the reform movement. They took it upon themselves to report parliamentary debates, and along with information they spread discontent. Their activity was somewhat checked, however, by the operation of the old laws which punished libelous attacks on the king with imprisonment or exile, and also by a stamp duty of 2-1/2d. a sheet (1789).

[Sidenote: Charles James Fox]

Under the new influence a number of Whigs became advocates of reform. George III had outdone them at corruption; they now sought to reestablish their own power and Parliament's by advocating reform. Of these Whigs, Charles James Fox (1749-1806) was the most prominent. Fox had been taught to gamble by his father and took to it readily. Cards and horse-racing kept him in constant bankruptcy; many of his nights were spent in debauchery and his mornings in bed; and his close association with the rakish heir to the throne was the scandal of London. In spite of his eloquence and ability, the loose manner of his life militated against the success of Fox as a reformer. His friends knew him to be a free-hearted, impulsive sympathizer with all who were oppressed, and they entertained no doubt of his sincere wish to bring about parliamentary reform, complete religious toleration, and the abolition of the slave trade. But strangers could not easily reconcile his private life with his public words, and were antagonized by his frequent lack of political tact.

[Sidenote: The Program of Reform]

Despite drawbacks Fox furthered the cause of reform to a considerable extent. He it was who presided over a great mass meeting, held under the auspices of a reform club, at which meeting was drawn up a program of liberal reform, a program which was to be the battle-cry of British political radicals for several generations. It comprised six demands: (1) Votes for all adult males, (2) each district to have representation proportionate to its population, (3) payment of the members of Parliament so as to enable poor men to accept election, (4) abolition of the property qualifications for members of Parliament, (5) adoption of the secret ballot, and (6) Parliaments to be elected annually.

[Sidenote: William Pitt the Younger]

Such reform seemed less likely of accomplishment by Fox than by a younger statesman, William Pitt (1759-1806), second son of the famous earl of Chatham. When but seven years old, Pitt had said: "I want to speak in the House of Commons like papa." Throughout his boyhood and youth he had kept this ambition constantly before him; he had studied, practiced oratory, and learned the arts of debate. At the age of twenty-one, he was a tall, slender, and sickly youth, with sonorous voice, devouring ambition, and sublime self-confidence. He secured a seat in the Commons as one of Sir James Lowther's "ninepins," and speedily won the respect of the House. He was the youngest and most promising of the politicians of the day. At the outset he was a Whig.

[Sidenote: The "New Tories"]

By a combination of circumstances young Pitt was enabled to form an essentially new political party—the "New Tories." By his scrupulous honesty and earnest advocacy of parliamentary reform, he won to his side the unrepresented bourgeoisie and the opponents of "bossism." On the other hand, by accepting from King George III an appointment as chief minister, and holding the position in spite of a temporarily hostile majority in the House of Commons, Pitt won the respect of the Tory country squires and the clergy, who stood for the king against Parliament. And finally, being quite moral himself (if chronic indulgence in port wine be excepted), and supporting a notoriously virtuous king against corrupt politicians and against the gambling Fox, Pitt became an idol of all lovers of "respectability."

In the parliamentary elections of 1784 Pitt won a great victory. In that year he was prime minister with loyal majorities in both Houses of Parliament, with royal favor, and with the support of popular enthusiasm. He was feasted in Grocers' Hall in London; the shopkeepers of the Strand illuminated their dwellings in his honor; and crowds cheered his carriage.

Reform seemed to be within sight. The horrors of the slave trade were mitigated, and greater freedom was given the press. Bills were introduced to abolish the representation of "rotten" boroughs and to grant representation to the newer towns.

[Sidenote: Halt of Reform in Great Britain]

It can hardly be doubted that Pitt would have gone further had not affairs in France—the French Revolution—alarmed him at the critical time and caused him fear a similar outbreak in England. [Footnote: For the effect of the French Revolution upon England, see pp. 494 f., 504.] The government and upper classes of Great Britain at once abandoned their roles as reformers, and set themselves sternly to repress anything that might savor of revolution.

[Sidenote: Conclusion]

Two important conclusions may now be drawn from our study of the British government in the eighteenth century. In the first place, despite the admiration with which the French philosophers regarded the British monarchy as a model of political liberty and freedom, it was in fact both corrupt and oppressive. Secondly, the spirit of reform seemed for a time as active and as promising in Great Britain as in France, but from the island kingdom it was frightened away by the tumult of revolution across the Channel.

THE ENLIGHTENED DESPOTS

The spirit of progress and reform had slowly made itself felt in Great Britain through popular agitation and in Parliament. On the Continent it naturally took a different turn, for there government certainly was not by Parliaments, but by sovereigns "by the Grace of God." In France, Prussia, Austria, Spain, and Russia, therefore, the question was always, "Will his Majesty be cruel, extravagant, and unprogressive; or will he prove himself an able and liberal-minded monarch?"

[Sidenote: The Era of Benevolent Despotism on the Continent]

It happened during the eighteenth century that most of the Continental rulers were of this latter sort—conscientious and well-meaning. On the thrones of Austria, Prussia, Spain, Portugal, Tuscany, Sardinia, Bavaria, and Sweden sat men of extraordinary ability, who sought rather the welfare of their country than careless personal pleasure.

These were the benevolent despots. They were despots, absolute rulers, countenancing no attempt to diminish royal authority, believing in government by one strong hand rather than by the democratic many. But with despotism they combined benevolence; they were anxious for the glory of their nation, and no less solicitous for the happiness and prosperity of their people. Thus the development of absolute monarchy and the rationalism of the eighteenth century united to produce the benevolent despot. For this reason the term "enlightened" (i.e., philosophical) despot is frequently applied to these autocrats who attempted to rule in the light of reason.

[Sidenote: Frederick the Great of Prussia, 1740-1786]

One of the most successful of the enlightened despots was Frederick II (the Great) of Prussia. In our chapter on the Germanies, [Footnote: See above, ch. xi.] we have seen how he fought all Europe to gain prestige and power for Prussia; we shall now see how he endeavored to apply scientific methods to the government of his own country.

With the major intellectual interests of the eighteenth century, Frederick II became acquainted quite naturally. As a boy he had been fond of reading French plays, had learned Latin against his father's will, had filled his mind with the ideas of deistic philosophers, and had seemed likely to become a dreamer instead of a ruler. But the dogged determination of his father, King Frederick William I, to make something out of Frederick besides a flute-playing, poetizing philosopher, had resulted in familiarizing him with elaborate financial reports and monotonous minutes of tiresome official transactions. Young Frederick, however, learned to like the details of administration and when he came to the throne in 1740 he was not only enlightened but industrious.

The young king had a clear conception of his duties, and even wrote a book in French about the theory of government. "The prince," he said, "is to the nation he governs what the head is to the man; it is his duty to see, think, and act for the whole community, that he may procure it every advantage of which it is capable." "The monarch is not the absolute master, but only the first servant of the state." Frederick was indeed the first servant of Prussia, rising at five in the morning, working on official business until eleven o'clock, and spending the afternoon at committee meetings or army reviews.

He set about laboriously to make Prussia the best and most governed state in Europe. He carefully watched the judges to see that they did not render wrongful decisions or take bribes. He commissioned jurists to compile the laws and to make them so simple and clear that no one would violate them through ignorance. He abolished the old practice of torturing suspected criminals to make them confess their guilt.

Education, as well as justice, claimed his attention; he founded elementary schools, so that as many as possible of his subjects could learn at least to read and write. In religious affairs, Frederick allowed great individual liberty; for he was a deist, and, like other deists of the time, believed in religious toleration.

More important even than justice, education, and toleration, he considered the promotion of material prosperity among his people. He would have considered himself a failure, had his reign not meant "good times" for farmers and merchants. He encouraged industry. He fostered the manufacture of silk. He invited thrifty farmers to move from other countries and to settle in Prussia. He built canals. Marshes were drained and transformed into rich pasture-land. If war desolated a part of the country, then, when peace was concluded, Frederick gave the farmers seed and let them use his war-horses before the plow. He advised landlords to improve their estates by planting orchards; and he encouraged peasants to grow turnips as fodder for cattle. Much was done to lighten the financial burdens of the peasantry, for (as Frederick himself declared) if a man worked all day in the fields, "he should not be hounded to despair by tax-collectors."

Taxes were not light by any means, but everybody knew that the king was not squandering the money. Frederick was not a man to lavish fortunes on worthless courtiers; he diligently examined all accounts; and his officials dared not be extravagant for fear of being corporally punished, or, what was worse, of being held up to ridicule by the cruel wit of their royal master.

It was only this marvelous economy and careful planning that enabled Prussia to support an army of 200,000 men and to embark upon a policy of conquest, by which Silesia and a third of Poland were won. On the army alone Frederick was willing to spend freely, but even in this department he made sure that Prussia received its money's worth. Tireless drill, strict discipline, up-to-date arms, and well-trained officers made the Prussian army the envy and terror of eighteenth- century Europe.

In dwelling upon his seemingly successful attempts to govern in the light of reason and common sense, we have almost forgotten Frederick's love of philosophy. Let us recur to it before we take leave of him; for benevolent despotism was only one side of the philosophical monarch. He liked to play his flute while thinking how to outwit Maria Theresa; he delighted in making witty answers to tiresome reports and petitions; he enjoyed sitting at table with congenial companions discussing poetry, science, and the drama. True, he did not encourage the rising young German poets Lessing and Goethe. He thought their work vulgar and uninspired. But he invited literary Frenchmen to come to Berlin, and he put new life into the Berlin Academy of Science. Even Voltaire was for a time a guest at Frederick's court, and the amateurish poems written in French by the Prussian king were corrected by the "prince of philosophers."

[Sidenote: Catherine the Great of Russia, 1762-1796]

While Frederick was demonstrating that "the prince is but the first servant of the state," Catherine II was playing the enlightened despot in Russia. In the course of her remarkable career, [Footnote: See above, pp. 380 ff.] Catherine found time to write flattering letters to French philosophers, to make presents to Voltaire, and to invite Diderot to tutor her son. She posed, too, as a liberal-minded monarch, willing to discuss the advisability of giving Russia a written constitution, or of emancipating the serfs. Schools and academies were established, and French became the language of polite Russian society.

At heart Catherine was little moved by desire for real reform or by pity for the peasants. She had the heavy whip—the knout—applied to the bared backs of earnest reformers. Her court was scandalously immoral, and she violated the conventions of matrimony without a qualm. For some excuse or another, the promised constitution was never written, and the lot of the serfs tended to become actually worse. To the governor of Moscow, the tsarina wrote: "My dear prince, do not complain that the Russians have no desire for instruction; if I institute schools, it is not for us,—it is for Europe, where we must keep our position in public opinion. But the day when our peasants shall wish to become enlightened, both you and I will lose our places." This shows clearly that while Catherine wished to be considered an enlightened despot, she was at heart quite the reverse. Her true character was not to be made manifest until the outbreak of the French Revolution, and then Catherine of Russia was to preach a crusade against reform.

[Sidenote: Charles III of Spain, 1759-1788]

There were other benevolent despots, however, who were undoubtedly sincere. Charles III, with able ministers, made many changes in Spain. [Footnote: Charles III had previously been king of Naples (1735-1759) and had instituted many reforms in that kingdom] The Jesuits were suppressed; the exaggerated zeal of the Inquisition was effectually checked; police were put on the streets of Madrid; German farmers were encouraged to settle in Spain; roads and canals were built; manufactures were fostered; science was patronized; and the fleet was nearly doubled. When Charles III died, after a reign of almost thirty years, the revenues of Spain had tripled, and its population had increased from seven to eleven millions.

[Sidenote: Joseph I of Portugal, 1750-1777]

Charles's neighbor, Joseph I of Portugal, possessed in the famous Pombal a minister who was both a typical philosopher and an active statesman. Under his administration, industry, education, and commerce throve in Portugal as in Spain. Gustavus III (1771-1792) of Sweden similarly made himself the patron of industry and the friend of the workingman. In Italy, the king of Sardinia was freeing his serfs, while in Tuscany several important reforms were being effected by Duke Leopold, a younger brother of the Habsburg emperor, Joseph II.

[Sidenote: Joseph II of Austria, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire]

Joseph II, archduke of Austria and emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, carried the theory of enlightened despotism to its greatest lengths. He was at once the most enthusiastic and the most unsuccessful of all the benevolent despots. In him is to be observed the most striking example of the aims, and likewise the weaknesses, of this generation of philosopher-kings.

[Sidenote: His Heritage from Maria Theresa]

Before we consider Joseph's career, it is important to understand what his mother, Maria Theresa (1740-1780), had already done for the Habsburg realms. We are familiar with her brave conduct in defense of her hereditary lands against the unscrupulous ambition of Frederick the Great. [Footnote: See above ch. xi.] For her loss of Silesia she had obtained through the partition of Poland some compensation in Galicia and Moldavia. Her domestic policy is of present concern.

The troops furnished by vote of provincial assemblies, she welded together into a national army. German became the official language of military officers; and a movement was begun to supplant Latin by German in the civil administration. The privileges of religious orders were curtailed in the interest of strong government; and the papal bull suppressing the Jesuits was enforced. The universities were remodeled; and the elaborate system of elementary and secondary schools, then established, survived with but little change until 1869.

Maria Theresa had begun reform along most of the lines which her son was to follow. But in two important particulars she was unlike him and unlike the usual enlightened despot. In the first place, she was politic rather than philosophical. She did not attempt wholesale reforms, or blindly follow fine theories, but introduced practical and moderate measures in order to remedy evils. She was very careful not to offend the prejudices or traditions of her subjects. Secondly, Maria Theresa was a devout Roman Catholic. Love of her subjects was not a theory with her,—it was a religious duty. A cynical Frederick the Great might laugh at conscience, and to a Catherine morality might mean nothing; but Maria Theresa remained an ardent Christian in an age of unbelief and a pure woman when loose living was fashionable.

[Sidenote: Policies and Plans of Joseph II, 1780-1790]

Her eldest son, Joseph II, [Footnote: Holy Roman Emperor (1765-1790), and sole ruler of the Habsburg dominions (1780-1790).] was brought up a Roman Catholic, and although strongly influenced by Rousseau's writings, never seceded from the Church. But neither religion nor expediency was his guiding principle. He said, "I have made Philosophy the legislator of my Empire: her logical principles shall transform Austria."

There was something very noble in the determination of the young ruler to do away with all injustice, to relieve the oppressed, and to lift up those who had been trampled under foot. His ambition was to make Austria a strong, united, and prosperous kingdom, to be himself the benefactor of his people, to protect the manufacturer, and to free the serf. Austria was to be remodeled as Rousseau would have wished—except in respect of Rousseau's basic idea of popular sovereignty.

It is a pity that Joseph II cannot be judged simply by his good intentions, for he was quite unfitted to carry out wholesome reforms. He had derived his ideas from French philosophers rather than from actual life; he was so sure that his theories were right that he would take no advice; he was impatient and would brook no delay in the wholesale application of his theories. Regardless of prejudice, regardless of tradition, regardless of every consideration of political expediency, he rushed ahead on the path of reform.

To Joseph II it mattered not that Austria had long been the stronghold and her rulers the champions of Catholic Christianity. He insisted that no papal bulls should be published in his dominions without his own authorization; he nominated the bishops; he confiscated church lands. Side altars and various emblems were removed from the churches, not because they were useless, for humble Christians still prayed to their God before such altars, but because the emperor thought side altars were signs of superstition. The old and well-loved ceremonies were altered at his command. Many monasteries were abolished. The clergy were to be trained in schools controlled by the emperor. And, to cap the climax, heretics and Jews were to be not only tolerated, but actually given the same rights as orthodox Catholics.

Many of these measures were no doubt desirable, and one or two of them might have been accomplished without causing much disturbance, but by trying to reform everything at once, Joseph only shocked and angered the clergy and such of his people as piously loved their religion.

His political policies, which were no more wisely conceived or executed, were three in number. (1) He desired to extend his possessions eastward to the Black Sea and southward to the Adriatic, while the distant Netherlands might conveniently be exchanged for near- by Bavaria. (2) He wished to get rid of all provincial assemblies and other vestiges of local independence, and to have all his territories governed uniformly by officials subject to himself. (3) He aimed to uplift the lower classes of his people, and to put down the proud nobles, so that all should be equal and all alike should look up to their benevolent, but all-powerful, ruler.

The first of these policies brought him only disastrous wars. His designs on Bavaria were frustrated by Frederick the Great, who posed as the protector of the smaller German states. In the Balkan peninsula his armies fought much and gained little.

His administrative policy was as unfortunate as his territorial ambition. Maria Theresa had taken some steps to simplify the administration of her heterogeneous dominions, but she had wisely allowed Hungary, Lombardy, and the Netherlands to preserve certain of the traditions and formulas of self-government, and she did everything to win the loyalty and confidence of her Hungarian subjects. Joseph, on the other hand, carried the sacred crown of St. Stephen—treasured by all Hungarians—to Vienna; abolished the privileges of the Hungarian Diet, or congress; and with a stroke of the pen established a new system of government. He divided his lands into thirteen provinces, each under a military commander. Each province was divided into districts or counties, and these again into townships. There would be no more local privileges but all was to be managed from Vienna. The army was henceforth to be on the Prussian model, and the peasants were to be forced to serve their terms in it. German was to be the official language throughout the Habsburg realm. This was all very fine on paper, but in practice it was a gigantic failure. The Austrian Netherlands rose in revolt rather than lose their local autonomy; the Tyrol did likewise; and angry protests came from Hungary. Local liberties and traditions could not be abolished by an imperial decree.

Finally, in his attempts to reconstruct society, Joseph came to grief. He directed that all serfs should become free men, able to marry without the consent of their lord, privileged to sell their land and to pay a fixed rent instead of being compelled to labor four days a week for their lord. Nobles and peasants alike were to share the burdens of taxation, all paying 13 per cent on their land. Joseph intended still further to help the peasantry, for, he said "I could never bring myself to skin two hundred good peasants to pay one do-nothing lord more than he ought to have." He planned to give everybody a free elementary education, to encourage industry, and to make all his subjects prosperous and happy.

[Sidenote: Failure of Joseph II]

But the peasants disliked compulsory military service and misunderstood his reforms; the nobles were not willing to be deprived of their feudal rights; the bourgeoisie was irritated by his blundering attempts to encourage industry; the clergy preached against his religious policy. He reigned only ten years; yet he was hated by many and loved by none; he had met defeat abroad, and at home his subjects were in revolt.

Little wonder that as he lay dying (1790) with hardly friend or relative near to comfort him, the discouraged reformer should have sighed: "After all my trouble, I have made but few happy, and many ungrateful." He directed that most of his "reforms" should be canceled, and proposed as an epitaph for himself the gloomy sentence: "Here lies the man who, with the best intentions, never succeeded in anything." [Footnote: The epitaph was not quite true. The serfs in Austria retained at least part of the liberty he had granted.]

[Sidenote: Weakness of Benevolent Despotism]

Joseph II was not the only benevolent despot who met with discouragement. The fatal weakness of "enlightened despotism" was its failure to enlist the sympathy and support of the people. Absolute rulers like Joseph II tried to force reforms on their peoples whether the reforms were popularly desired or not. As a result, few of their measures were lasting, and ingratitude was uniformly their reward.

If all kings had possessed the supreme ability and genius of a Frederick the Great, enlightened despotism might still be in vogue. The trouble was that even well-meaning monarchs like Joseph II were unpractical; and many sovereigns were not even well-meaning. In Prussia, the successor of Frederick the Great, King Frederick William II, had neither ability nor character; his weak rule undid the work of Frederick. The same thing happened in other countries: weakness succeeded ability, extravagance wasted the fruits of economy, and corruption ruined the work of reform. Absolute monarchy without good intentions proved terribly oppressive.

THE FRENCH MONARCHY

In no country was the evil side of absolutism exhibited so unmistakably as in France. During the eighteenth century the French government went from bad to worse, until at last it was altered not by peaceful reform but by violent revolution.

[Sidenote: French People better off than their Neighbors]

As far as their actual condition was concerned, the people of France were, on the whole, better off than most Germans or Italians. Next to England, France had the most numerous, prosperous, and intelligent middle class; and her peasants were slightly above the serfs of other Continental countries. But the very fact that in material well-being they were a little better off than their neighbors, made the French people more critical of their government. The lower classes had not all been ground down until they were mere slaves without hope or courage; on the contrary, there were many sturdy farmers and thrifty artisans who hoped for better days and bitterly resented inequalities in society and abuses in the government. The bourgeoisie was even less inclined to bow to tyranny; it was numerous, intelligent, wealthy, and influential; it could see the mistakes of the royal administration and was hopeful of gaining a voice in the government. Thus, the people of France were keener to feel wrongs and to resent the injustice of undutiful monarchs.

Let us glance at the crying abuses in the French state of the eighteenth century, and then we shall understand how great was the guilt of that pleasure-loving despot—Louis XV (1715-1774).

[Sidenote: The Administration] [Sidenote: The King]

The French administrative system was confused and oppressive. In theory, it was quite simple—the government was the king. As Louis XV haughtily remarked: "The sovereign authority is vested in my person... the legislative power exists in myself alone... my people are one only with me; national rights and national interests are necessarily combined with my own and only rest in my hands."

But in practice, the king could not alone make laws, keep order, and collect taxes, especially when he spent whole days hunting or gambling. He contented himself with spending the state money, getting into wars, and occasionally interfering with the work of his ministers. And it was necessary to intrust the actual conduct of affairs to a complicated system or no-system of royal officials.

[Sidenote: The Royal Council]

The highest rung in the ladder of officialdom was the Royal Council. It was composed of the half dozen chief ministers and about thirty councilors who helped their chiefs to supervise the affairs of the kingdom,—issuing decrees, conferring on foreign policy, levying taxes, and acting on endless reports from local officials.

[Sidenote: Local Administration. The Intendants]

The Royal Council had numerous local representatives. There were the bailiffs and seneschals, whose actual powers had quite disappeared, but whose offices served to complicate matters. Then there were the governors of provinces, well-fed gentlemen with fat salaries and little to do. The bulk of local administration fell into the hands of the intendants and their sub-delegates. Each of the thirty-four intendants —the so-called "Thirty Tyrants of France"—was appointed by the king's ministers and was like a petty despot in his district (generalite).

The powers of the intendant were extensive. He decided what share of the district taxes each village and taxpayer should bear. He had his representatives in each parish of his district, and through them he supervised the police, the preservation of order, and the recruiting of the army. He relieved the poor in bad seasons. The erection of a church, or the repair of a town hall, needed his sanction. When the Royal Council ordered roads to be built, it was the intendant and his men who directed the work and called the peasants out to do the labor. With powers such as these, it was little wonder that the intendant was called Monseigneur—"My lord."

[Sidenote: The Parlement of Paris]

The system of Royal Council, intendants, and sub-intendants would have been comparatively simple, had it not been complicated by the presence of numerous other political bodies, each of which claimed certain customary powers. First of all, there was the Parlement, or supreme court, of Paris, primarily a judicial body which registered the royal decrees. If the Parlement disliked a decree, it might refuse to register it, until the king should hold a "bed of justice"—that is, should formally summon the Parlement and in person command it to register his decree.

[Sidenote: Provincial Estates]

Then there were provincial "Estates," or assemblies, in a few of the provinces. [Footnote: Such provinces were called pays d'etat and included Brittany, Languedoc, Provence, Roussillon, Dauphine, Burgundy, Franche Comte, Alsace, Lorraine, Artois, Flanders, Corsica, etc. The local assemblies in these pays d'etat were by no means representative of all the inhabitants. The remaining provinces, in which no vestiges of provincial self-government survived, were called pays d'election: they included Ile de France, Orleanais, Champagne and Brie, Maine, Anjou, Poitou, Guyenne and Gascony, Limousin, Auvergne, Lyonnais, Bourbonnais, Touraine, Normandy, Picardy, etc.] These bodies, survivals of the middle ages, did not make laws but had a voice in the apportionment of taxes among the parishes of the province, and exercised powers of supervision over road-building and the collection of taxes.

[Sidenote: Town Councils]

The government of the towns was peculiar. The old gilds, now including only a small number of the wealthiest burghers, elected a Town Council, which managed the property of the town, appointed tax-collectors, saw that the town hall was kept in repair, and supervised the collection of customs duties on goods brought into the town. It is easy to perceive how the Town Council and the intendant would have overlapping powers, and how considerable confusion might arise, especially since in different towns the nature and the powers of the Town Council differed widely. Matters were complicated still further by the fact that the mayors of the towns were not elected by the council, but appointed by the crown.

In rural districts there was a trace of the same conflict between the system of intendants and the survivals of local self-government. Summoned by the clanging church bell, all the men of the village met on the village green. And the simple villagers, thus gathered together as a town meeting or communal assembly, might elect collectors of the taille, or might perhaps petition the intendant to repair the parsonage or the bridge.

[Sidenote: Confusion in Administration]

Possibly the reader may now begin to realize that confusion was a prime attribute of the French administrative system. The common people were naturally bewildered by the overlapping functions of Royal Council, Parlement, provincial estates, governors, bailiffs, intendants, subintendants, mayors, town councils, and village assemblies. The system, or lack of system, gave rise to corruption and complication without insuring liberty. The most trivial affairs were regulated by overbearing and exacting royal officials. Everything depended upon the honesty and industry or upon the meanness and caprice of these officials. Each petty officer transmitted long reports to his superior; but the general public was kept in the dark about official matters, and was left to guess, as best it could, the reasons for the seemingly unreasonable acts of the government. If an intendant increased the taxes on a village, the ignorant inhabitants blamed it upon official "graft" or favoritism. Or, if hard times prevailed, or if a shaky bridge broke down, the villagers were prone in any case to find fault with the government, for the more mysterious and powerful the government was, the more likely was it to bear the blame for all ills.

Confusion in administrative offices was not the only confusion in eighteenth-century France. There was no uniformity or simplicity in standards of weight and measure, in coinage, in tolls, in internal customs-duties. But worst of all were the laws and the courts of justice.

[Sidenote: Confusion in Laws]

What was lawful in one town was often illegal in a place not five miles distant. Almost four hundred sets or bodies of law were in force in different parts of France. In some districts the old Roman laws were still retained; elsewhere laws derived from early German tribes were enforceable. Many laws were not even in writing; and such as were written were more often in Latin than in French. The result was that only unusually learned men knew the law, and common people stumbled along in the dark. The laws, moreover, were full of injustice and cruelty. An offender might have his hand or ear cut off, or his tongue torn out; he might be burned with red-hot irons or have molten lead poured into his flesh. Hanging was an easy death compared to the lingering torture of having one's bones broken on a wheel.

[Sidenote: Confusion in Law Courts]

The courts were nearly as bad as the laws. There were royal courts, feudal courts, church courts, courts of finance, and military courts; and it was a wise offender who knew before which court he might be tried. Extremely important cases might be carried on appeal to the highest courts of the realm—the Parlements—of which there were thirteen, headed in honor by that of Paris.

[Sidenote: Prevalence of Injustice]

Although courts were so plenteous, justice was seldom to be found. Persons wrongfully accused of crime were tortured until they confessed deeds they had never committed. The public was not admitted to trials, so no one knew on what grounds the sentence was passed, and the judge gave no reason for his verdict. Civil lawsuits were appealed from court to court and might drag on for years until the parties had spent all their money. Lawyers were more anxious to extract large fees from their clients than to secure justice for them.

[Sidenote: "Noblesse de la Robe"]

Confused laws and conflicting jurisdictions were often made worse by the character of the judges who presided over royal courts. Many of them were rich bourgeois who had purchased their appointment from the king. For a large price it was possible to buy a judgeship or seat in a Parlement, not only for a lifetime but as an hereditary possession. It has been estimated that 50,000 bourgeois families possessed such judicial offices: they formed a sort of lower nobility, exempted from certain taxes and very proud of their honors. Naturally envious were his neighbors when the "councilor" appeared in his grand wig and his enormous robe of silk and velvet, attended by a page who kept the robe from trailing in the dust. No wonder these bourgeois judges were called "the nobility of the robe."

In some way or other the "noble of the robe" had to compensate himself for the price of his office and the cost of his robe. One bought an office for profit as well as for honor. For to the judge were paid the court fees and fines; and no shrewd judge would let a case pass him without exacting some kind of a fee. Even more profitable were the indirect gains. If Monsieur A had gained his case in court, it was quite to be expected that in his joy Monsieur A would make a handsome present to the judge who had given the decision. At least, that is the way the judge would have put it. As a plain matter of fact the judges were bribed, and justice was too often bought and sold like judgeships.

[Sidenote: Abuses in the Army]

Corruption and abuses were not confined to the civil government and the courts of law; the army, too, was infected. In the ranks were to be found hired foreigners, unwilling peasants dragged from their farms, and the scum of the city slums. Thousands deserted every year. Had the discontented troops been well commanded, they might still have answered the purpose. But such was not the case. There were certainly enough officers—an average of one general for every 157 privates. But what officers they were! Dissolute and dandified generals drawing their pay and never visiting their troops, lieutenants reveling in vice, instead of drilling and caring for their commands. Noble blood, not ability, was the qualification of a commander. Counts, who had never seen a battlefield, were given military offices, and the seven-year-old Duc de Frousac was a colonel.

[Sidenote: Confusion in Finance]

Confused administration, antiquated laws, corrupt magistrates, and a disorganized army showed the weakness of the French monarchy; but financial disorders threatened its very existence,—for a government out of money is as helpless as a fish out of water.

The destructive wars, costly armies, luxurious palaces, and extravagant court of Louis XIV had left to the successors of the Grand Monarch many debts, an empty treasury, and an overtaxed people. If ever there was need of care and thrift, it was in the French monarchy in the eighteenth century.

Yet the king's ministers did not even trouble themselves to keep orderly accounts. Bills and receipts were carelessly laid away; no one knew how much was owed or how much was to be expected by the treasury; and even the king himself could not have told how much he would run into debt during the year. While it lasted, money was spent freely.

[Sidenote: Royal Revenue]

The amount of money required by the king would have made taxes very heavy anyway, but bad methods of assessment and collection added to the burden. The royal revenue was derived chiefly from three sources: the royal domains, the direct taxes, and the indirect taxes. From the royal domains, the lands of which the king was landlord as well as sovereign, a considerable but ever-diminishing income was derived.

[Sidenote: Direct Taxes] [Sidenote: The Income Tax] [Sidenote: The Poll Tax]

The direct taxes were the prop of the treasury, for they could be increased to meet the demand, at least as long as the people would pay. There were three direct taxes—the taille, the capitation, and the vingtieme. The vingtieme, or "twentieth," was a tax on incomes—5 per cent [Footnote: Five per cent in theory; in practice in the reign of Louis XVI it was 11 per cent] on the salary of the judge, on the rents of the noble, on the earning of the artisan, on the produce of the peasant. The clergy were entirely exempted from this tax; the more influential nobles and bourgeois contrived to have their incomes underestimated, and the burden fell heaviest on the poorer classes. Capitation was a general poll or head tax, varying in amount according to whichever of twenty-two classes claimed the individual taxpayer. Maid-servants, for example, paid annually three livres and twelve sous. [Footnote: A livre was worth about a franc (20 cents) and a sou was equivalent to one cent.]

[Sidenote: The Taille or Land Tax]

The most important and hated direct tax was the taille or land tax,—practically a tax on peasants alone. The total amount to be raised was apportioned among the intendants by the Royal Council, and by the intendants among the villages of their respective districts. At the village assembly collectors were elected, who were thereby authorized to demand from each villager a share of the tax, according to his ability to pay. As a result of this method, each villager tried to appear poor so as to be taxed lightly; whole villages looked run- down in order to be held for only a small share; and influential politicians often obtained alleviation for parts of the country.

[Sidenote: Indirect Taxes] [Sidenote: "Tax Farming"]

The indirect taxes were not so heavy, but they were bitterly detested. There were taxes on alcohol, metal-ware, cards, paper, and starch, but most disliked of all was that on salt (the gabelle). Every person above seven years of age was supposed annually to buy from the government salt-works seven pounds of salt at about ten times its real value. [Footnote: It should be understood, of course, that the gabelle was higher and more burdensome in some provinces than in others.] Only government agents could legally sell salt, and smugglers were fined heavily or sent to the galleys. These indirect taxes were usually "farmed out," that is, in return for a lump sum the government would grant to a company of speculators the right to collect what they could. These speculators were called "farmers-general,"—France could be called their farm [Footnote: Etymologically, the French word for farm (ferme) was not necessarily connected with agriculture, but signified a fixed sum (firma) paid for a certain privilege, such as that of collecting a tax.] and money its produce. And they farmed well. After paying the government, the "farmers" still had millions of francs to distribute as bribes or as presents to great personages or to retain for themselves. Thus, millions were lost to the treasury.

[Sidenote: The Burden of Taxation]

Taxes could not always be raised to cover emergencies, nor collected so wastefully. The peasants of France were crushed by feudal dues, tithes, and royal taxes. The bourgeoisie were angered by the income tax, by the indirect taxes, by the tolls and internal customs, and by the monopolistic privileges which the king sold to his favorites. How long the unprivileged classes would bear the burden of taxation, while the nobles and clergy were almost free, no one could tell; but signs of discontent were too patent to be ignored.

Louis XIV (1643-1715) at the end of his long reign perceived the danger. As the aged monarch lay on his deathbed, flushed with fever, he called his five-year-old great-grandson and heir, the future Louis XV, to the bedside and said: "My child, you will soon be sovereign of a great kingdom. Do not forget your obligations to God; remember that it is to Him that you owe all that you are. Endeavor to live at peace with your neighbors; do not imitate me in my fondness for war, nor in the exorbitant expenditure which I have incurred. Take counsel in all your actions. Endeavor to relieve the people at the earliest possible moment, and thus to accomplish what, unfortunately, I am unable to do myself."

[Sidenote: Louis XV, 1715-1774]

It was good advice. But Louis XV was only a boy, a plaything in the hands of his ministers. In an earlier chapter [Footnote: See above, pp. 255 f.] we have seen how under the duke of Orleans, who was prince regent from 1715 to 1723, France entered into war with Spain, and how finance was upset by speculation; and how under Cardinal Fleury, who was minister from 1726 to 1743, the War of the Polish Election (1733- 1738) was fought and the War of the Austrian Succession (1740-1748) begun.

When in 1743 the ninety-year-old Cardinal Fleury died, Louis XV announced that he would be his own minister. But he was not a Frederick the Great. At the council table poor Louis "opened his mouth, said little, and thought not at all." State business seemed terribly dull, and the king left most of it to others.

But of one thing, Louis XV could not have enough—and that was pleasure. He much preferred pretty girls to pompous ministers of state, and spent most of his time with the ladies and the rest of the time either hunting or gambling. In spite of the fact that he was married, Louis very easily fell in love with a charming face; at one time he was infatuated by the duchess of Chateauroux, then by Madame de Pompadour, and later by Madame du Barry. Upon his mistresses he was willing to lavish princely presents,—he gave them estates and titles, had them live at Versailles, and criminally allowed them to interfere in politics; for their sake he was willing to let his country go to ruin.

The character of the king was reflected in his court. It became fashionable to neglect one's wife, to gamble all night, to laugh at virtue, to be wasteful and extravagant. Versailles was gay; the ladies painted their cheeks more brightly than ever, and the lords spent their fortunes more recklessly.

But Versailles was not France. France was ruined with wars and taxes. Louis XIV had said, "Live at peace with your neighbors"; but since his death four wars had been waged, culminating in the disastrous Seven Years' War (1756-1763), by which French commerce had been destroyed and the French colonies had been lost. [Footnote: The formal annexation of Lorraine in 1766 and of Corsica in 1768 afforded some crumbs of comfort for Louis XV.] Debts were multiplied and taxes increased. What with war, extravagance, and poor management, Louis XV left France a bankrupt state.

[Sidenote: Growing complaints against the French Monarchy under Louis XV]

Complaints were loud and remonstrances bitter, and Louis XV could not silence them, try as he might. Authors who criticized the government were thrown into prison: radical writings were confiscated or burned; but criticism persisted. Enemies of the government were imprisoned without trial in the Bastille by lettres de cachet, which were orders for arrest signed in blank by the king, who sometimes gave or sold them to his favorites, so that they, too, might have their enemies jailed. Yet the opposition to the court ever increased. Resistance to taxation centered in the Parlement of Paris. It refused to register the king's decrees, and remained defiant even after Louis XV had angrily announced that he would not tolerate interference with his prerogatives. The quarrel grew so bitter that all the thirteen Parlements of France were suppressed (1771), and in their stead new royal courts were established.

Opposition was only temporarily crushed; and Louis XV knew that graver trouble was brewing. He grew afraid to ride openly among the discontented crowds of Paris; the peasants saluted him sullenly; the treasury was empty; the monarchy was tottering. Yet Louis XV felt neither responsibility nor care. "It will surely last as long as I," he cynically affirmed; "my successor may take care of himself."

[Sidenote: Louis XVI, 1774-1792]

His successor was his grandson, Louis XVI (1774-1792), a weak-kneed prince of twenty years, very virtuous and well-meaning, but lacking in intelligence and will-power. He was too awkward and shy to preside with dignity over the ceremonious court; he was too stupid and lazy to dominate the ministry. He liked to shoot deer from out the palace window, or to play at lock-making in his royal carpentry shop. Government he left to his ministers.

[Sidenote: Turgot]

At first, hopes ran high, for Turgot, friend of Voltaire and contributor to the Encyclopedia, was minister of finance (1774- 1776), and reform was in the air. Industry and commerce were to be unshackled; laisser-faire was to be the order of the day; finances were to be reformed, and taxes lowered. The clergy and nobles were no longer to escape taxation; taxes on food were to be abolished; the peasants were to be freed from forced labor on the roads. But Turgot only stirred up opposition. The nobles and clergy were not anxious to be taxed; courtiers resented any reduction of their pensions; tax-farmers feared the reforming minister; owners of industrial monopolies were frightened; the peasants misunderstood his intentions; and riots broke out. Everybody seemed to be relieved when, in 1776, Turgot was dismissed.

[Sidenote: Necker]

Turgot had been a theorist; his successor was a businessman. Jacques Necker was well known in Paris as a hard-headed Swiss banker, and Madame Necker's receptions were attended by the chief personages of the bourgeois society of Paris. During his five years in office (1776-1781) Necker applied business methods to the royal finances. He borrowed 400,000,000 francs from his banker friends, reformed the collection of taxes, reduced expenditures, and carefully audited the accounts. In 1781 he issued a report or "Account Rendered of the Financial Condition." The bankers were delighted; the secrets of the royal treasury were at last common property; [Footnote: The Compte Rendu, as it was called in France, was really not accurate; Necker, in order to secure credit for his financial administration, made matters appear better than they actually were.] and Necker was praised to the skies.

[Sidenote: Marie Antoinette]

While Necker's Parisian friends rejoiced, his enemies at court prepared his downfall. Now the most powerful enemy of Necker's reforms and economies was the queen, Marie Antoinette. She was an Austrian princess, the daughter of Maria Theresa, and in the eyes of the French people she always remained a hated foreigner—"the Austrian," they called her—the living symbol of the ruinous alliance between Habsburgs and Bourbons which had been arranged by a Madame de Pompadour and which had contributed to the disasters and disgrace of the Seven Years' War [Footnote: See above, pp. 358 ff]. While grave ministers of finance were puzzling their heads over the deficit, gay Marie Antoinette was buying new dresses and jewelry, making presents to her friends, giving private theatricals, attending horse-races and masked balls. The light- hearted girl-queen had little serious interest in politics, but when her friends complained of Necker's miserliness, she at once demanded his dismissal.

Her demand was granted, for the kind-hearted, well-intentioned Louis XVI could not bear to deprive his pretty, irresponsible Marie Antoinette and her charming friends,—gallant nobles of France,—of their pleasures. Their pleasures were very costly; and fresh loans could be secured by the obsequious new finance-minister, Calonne, only at high rates of interest.

From the standpoint of France, the greatest folly of Louis XVI's reign was the ruinous intervention in the War of American Independence (1778- 1783). The United States became free; Great Britain was humbled; Frenchmen proved that their valor was equal to their chivalry; but when the impulsive Marquis de Lafayette returned from assisting the Americans to win their liberty, he found a ruined France. The treasury was on the verge of collapse. From the conclusion of the war in 1783 to the outbreak of the French Revolution in 1789, every possible financial expedient was tried—in vain.

[Sidenote: The Problem of Taxation]

To tax the so-called privileged classes—the clergy and the nobles— might have helped; and successive finance ministers so counseled the king. But it was absolutely against the spirit of the "old regime." What was the good of being a clergyman or a noble, if one had no privileges and was obliged to pay taxes like the rest? To tax all alike would be in itself a revolution, and the tottering divine-right monarchy sought reform, not revolution.

[Sidenote: The Assembly of Notables, 1787]

Yet in 1786 the interest-bearing debt had mounted to $600,000,000, the government was running in debt at least $25,000,000 a year, and the treasury-officials were experiencing the utmost difficulty in negotiating new loans. Something had to be done. As a last resort, the king convened (1787) an Assembly of Notables—145 of the chief nobles, bishops, and magistrates—in the vain hope that they would consent to the taxation of the privileged and unprivileged alike. The Notables were not so self-sacrificing, however, and contented themselves with abolishing compulsory labor on the roads, voting to have provincial assemblies established, and demanding the dismissal of Calonne, the minister of finance. The question of taxation, they said, should be referred to the Estates-General. All this helped the treasury in no material way.

[Sidenote: Convocation of the Estates-General]

A new minister of finance, who succeeded Calonne,—Archbishop Lomenie de Brienne,—politely thanked the Notables and sent them home. He made so many fine promises that hope temporarily revived, and a new loan was raised. But the Parlement of Paris, which together with the other Parlements had been restored early in the reign of Louis XVI, soon saw through the artifices of the suave minister, and positively refused to register further loans or taxes. Encouraged by popular approval, the Parlement went on to draw up a declaration of rights, and to assert that subsidies could constitutionally be granted only by the nation's representatives—the ancient Estates-General. This sounded to the government like revolution, and the Parlements were again abolished. The abolition of the Parlements raised a great cry of indignation; excited crowds assembled in Paris and other cities; and the soldiers refused to arrest the judges. Here was real revolution, and Louis XVI, frightened and anxious, yielded to the popular demand for the Estates- General.

In spite of the fact that every one talked so glibly about the Estates- General and of the great things that body would do, few knew just what the Estates-General was. Most people had heard that once upon a time France had had a representative body of clergy, nobility, and commoners, somewhat like the British Parliament. But no such assembly had been convoked for almost two centuries, and only scholars and lawyers knew what the old Estates-General had been. Nevertheless, it was believed that nothing else could save France from ruin; and in August, 1788, Louis XVI, after consulting the learned men, issued a summons for the election of the Estates-General, to meet in May of the following year.

[Sidenote: Failure of Absolutism in France]

The convocation of the Estates-General was the death-warrant of divine- right monarchy in France. It meant that absolutism had failed. The king was bankrupt. No half-way reforms or pitiful economies would do now. The Revolution was at hand.

ADDITIONAL READING

THE BRITISH MONARCHY, 1760-1800. General accounts: A. L. Cross, History of England and Greater Britain (1914), ch. xlv, a brief resume; Cambridge Modern History, Vol. VI (1909), ch. xiii; A. D. Innes, History of England and the British Empire, Vol. III (1914), ch. vii-ix, xi; C. G. Robertson, England under the Hanoverians (1911); J. F. Bright, History of England, Vol. III, Constitutional Monarchy, 1689-1837; William Hunt, Political History of England, 1760-1801 (1905), Tory in sympathy; and W. E. H. Lecky, A History of England in the Eighteenth Century, London ed., 7 vols. (1907), and A History of Ireland in the Eighteenth Century, 5 vols. (1893), the most complete general histories of the century. Special studies: E. and A. G. Porritt, The Unreformed House of Commons, new ed., 2 vols. (1909), a careful description of the undemocratic character of the parliamentary system; J. R. Fisher, The End of the Irish Parliament (1911); W. L. Mathieson, The Awakening of Scotland, 1747-1797 (1910); Correspondence of George III with Lord North, 1768-1783, ed. by W. B. Donne, 2 vols. (1867), excellent for illustrating the king's system of personal government; Horace Walpole, Letters, ed. by Mrs. P. Toynbee, 16 vols. (1903-1905), a valuable contemporary source as "Walpole is the acknowledged prince of letter writers"; G. S. Veitch, The Genesis of Parliamentary Reform (1913), a clear and useful account of the agitation in the time of Pitt and Fox; W. P. Hall, British Radicalism, 1791-1797 (1912), an admirable and entertaining survey of the movement for political and social reform in England; J. H. Rose, William Pitt and National Revival (1911), dealing with the years 1781-1791. There are biographies of William Pitt (the Younger) by Lord Rosebery (1891) and by W. D. Green (1901); and The Early Life of Charles James Fox by Sir G. 0. Trevelyan (1880) affords a delightful picture of the life of the time. Also see books listed under ENGLISH SOCIETY IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY, pp. 427 f., above.

THE BENEVOLENT DESPOTS. Brief general accounts: H. E. Bourne, The Revolutionary Period in Europe, 1763-1815 (1914), ch. ii, iv, v; J. H. Robinson and C. A. Beard, The Development of Modern Europe, Vol. I (1907), ch. x, xi; H. M. Stephens, Revolutionary Europe, 1789-1815 (1893), ch. i; Cambridge Modern History, Vol. VI (1909), ch. xii, xviii-xx, xxii, xvi; E. F. Henderson, A Short History of Germany, Vol. II (1902), ch. v, excellent on Frederick the Great. With special reference to the career of Charles III of Spain: Joseph Addison, Charles III of Spain (1900); M. A. S. Hume, Spain, its Greatness and Decay, 1479-1788 (1898), ch. xiv, xv; Francois Rousseau, Regne de Charles III d'Espagne, 1759- 1788, 2 vols. (1907), the best and most exhaustive work on the subject; Gustav Diercks, Geschichte Spaniens von der fruhesten Zeiten bis auf die Gegenwart, 2 vols. (1895-1896), a good general history of Spain by a German scholar. On Gustavus III of Sweden: R. N. Bain, Scandinavia, a Political History of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, from 1513 to 1900 (1905). On the Dutch Netherlands in the eighteenth century: H. W. Van Loon, The Fall of the Dutch Republic (1913). On Joseph II: A. H. Johnson, The Age of the Enlightened Despot, 1660-1789 (1910), ch. x, an admirable brief introduction to the subject; Cambridge Modern History, Vol. VIII (1904), ch. xi, on Joseph's foreign policy; William Coxe (1747-1828), History of the House of Austria, Vol. III, an excellent account though somewhat antiquated; Franz Krones, Handbuch der Geschichte Oesterreichs, Vol. IV (1878), Books XIX, XX, a standard work; Karl Ritter, Kaiser Joseph II und seine kirchlichen Reformen; G. Holzknecht, Ursprung und Herkunft der reformideen Kaiser Josefs II auf kirchlichem Gebiete (1914). For further details of the projects and achievements of Frederick the Great and Maria Theresa, see bibliographies accompanying Chapter XI, above; and for those of Catherine II of Russia, see bibliography of Chapter XII, above.

THE FRENCH MONARCHY, 1743-1789. Brief general accounts: Shailer Mathews, The French Revolution (reprint 1912), ch. vi-viii; A. J. Grant, The French Monarchy, 1483-1789, Vol. II (1900), ch. xix-xxi; G. W. Kitchin, A History of France, Vol. III (4th ed., 1899), Book VI, ch. iii-vii; Cambridge Modern History, Vol. VIII (1904), ch. ii- iv; E. J. Lowell, The Eve of the French Revolution (1892), an able survey; Sophia H. MacLehose, The Last Days of the French Monarchy (1901), a popular narrative. More detailed studies: J. B. Perkins, France under Louis XV, 2 vols. (1897), an admirable treatment; Ernest Lavisse (editor), Histoire de France, Vol. VIII, Part II, Regne de Louis XV, 1715-1774 (1909), and Vol. IX, Part I, Regne de Louis XVI, 1774-1789 (1910), the latest and most authoritative treatment in French; Felix Rocquain, The Revolutionary Spirit Preceding the French Revolution, condensed Eng. trans. by J. D. Hunting (1891), a suggestive account of various disorders immediately preceding 1789; Leon Say, Turgot, a famous little biography translated from the French by M. B. Anderson (1888); W. W. Stephens, Life and Writings of Turgot (1895), containing extracts from important decrees of Turgot; Alphonse Jobez, La France sous Louis XV, 6 vols. (1864-1873), and, by the same author, La France sous Louis XVI, 3 vols. (1877-1893), exhaustive works, still useful for particular details but in general now largely superseded by the Histoire de France of Ernest Lavisse; Charles Gomel, Les causes financieres de la revolution francaise: les derniers controleurs generaux, 2 vols. (1892-1893), scholarly and especially valuable for the public career of Turgot, Necker, Calonne, and Lomenie de Brienne; Rene Stourm, Les finances de l'ancien regime et de la revolution, 2 vols. (1885); Aime Cherest, La chute de l'ancien regime, 1787-1789, 3 vols. (1884-1886), a very detailed study of the three critical years immediately preceding the Revolution; F. C. von Mercy-Argenteau, Correspondance secrete avec l'imperatrice Marie- Therese, avec les lettres de Marie-Therese et de Marie-Antoinette, 3 vols. (1875); and Correspondance secrete avec l'empereur Joseph II et le prince de Kaunitz, 2 vols. (1889-1891), editions of original letters and other information which Mercy-Argenteau transmitted to Vienna from 1766 to 1790, very valuable for the contemporary pictures of court-life at Versailles (selections have been translated and published in English). Also see books listed under FRENCH SOCIETY ON THE EVE OF THE REVOLUTION, p. 427, above.



CHAPTER XV

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION INTRODUCTORY

The governments and other political institutions which flourished in the first half of the eighteenth century owed their origins to much earlier times. They had undergone only such alterations as were absolutely necessary to adapt them to various places and changing circumstances. Likewise, the same social classes existed as had always characterized western Europe; and these classes—the court, the nobles, the clergy, the bourgeoisie, the artisans, the peasants—continued to bear relations to each other which a hoary antiquity had sanctioned. Every individual was born into his class, or, as the popular phrase went, to "a station to which God had called him," and to question the fundamental divine nature of class distinctions seemed silly if not downright blasphemous.

[Sidenote: Dislocation of Society in Eighteenth Century]

Such ideas were practical so long as society was comparatively static and fixed, but they were endangered as soon as the human world was conceived of as dynamic and progressive. The development of trade and industry, as has been emphasized, rapidly increased the numbers, wealth, and influence of the bourgeoisie, or middle class, and quite naturally threw the social machine out of gear. The merchants, the lawyers, the doctors, the professors, the literary men, began to envy the nobles and clergy, and in turn were envied by the poor townsfolk and by the downtrodden peasants. With the progress of learning and study, thoughtful persons of all classes began to doubt whether the old order of politics and society was best suited to the new conditions and new relations. The "old regime" was for old needs; did it satisfy new requirements?

[Sidenote: Influence of Philosophy]

To this question the philosophers of the eighteenth century responded unequivocally in the negative. Scientists, of whom the period was full, had done much to exalt the notions that the universe is run in accordance with immutable laws of nature and that man must forever utilize his reasoning faculties. It was not long before the philosophers were applying the scientists' notions to social conditions. "Is this reasonable?" they asked, or, "Is that rational?" Montesquieu insisted that divine-right monarchy is unreasonable. Voltaire poked fun at the Church and the clergy for being irrational. Rousseau claimed that class inequalities have no basis in reason. Beccaria taught that arbitrary or cruel interference with personal liberty is not in accordance with dictates of nature or reason.

Philosophy did not directly effect a change; it was merely an expression of a growing belief in the advisability of change. It reflected a conviction, deep in many minds, that the old political institutions and social distinctions had served their purpose and should now be radically adapted to the new order. Every country in greater or less degree heard the radical philosophy, but it was in France that it was first heeded.

[Sidenote: The Revolution]

In France, between the years 1789 and 1799, occurred a series of events, by which the doctrine of democracy supplanted that of divine- right monarchy, and the theory of class distinctions gave way to that of social equality. These events, taken together, constitute what we term the French Revolution, and, inasmuch as they have profoundly affected all political thought and social action throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, they are styled, by way of eminence, the Revolution.

[Sidenote: The Revolution French]

Why the Revolution started in France may be suggested by reference to certain points which have already been mentioned in the history of that country. France was the country which, above any other, had perfected the theory and practice of divine-right monarchy. In France had developed the sharpest contrasts between the various social classes. It was likewise in France that the relatively high level of education and enlightenment had given great vogue to a peculiarly destructive criticism of political and social conditions. Louis XIV had erected his absolutism and had won for it foreign glory and prestige only by placing the severest burdens upon the French people. The exploitation of the state by the selfish, immoral Louis XV had served not to lighten those burdens but rather to set forth in boldest relief the inherent weaknesses of the "old regime." And Louis XVI, despite all manner of pious wishes and good intentions, had been unable to square conditions as they were with the operation of antique institutions. One royal minister after another discovered to his chagrin that mere "reform" was worse than useless. A "revolution" would be required to sweep away the mass of abuses that in the course of centuries had adhered to the body politic.

[Sidenote: Differences between the French and English Revolutions]

At the outset, any idea of likening the French Revolution to the English Revolution of the preceding century must be dismissed. Of course the English had put one king to death and had expelled another, and had clearly limited the powers of the crown; they had "established parliamentary government." But the English Revolution did not set up genuine representative government, much less did it recognize the theory of democracy. Voting remained a special privilege, conferred on certain persons, not a natural right to be freely exercised by all. Nor was the English Revolution accompanied by a great social upheaval: it was in the first instance political, in the second instance religious and ecclesiastical; it was never distinctly social. To all intents and purposes, the same social classes existed in the England of the eighteenth century as in the England of the sixteenth century, and, with the exception of the merchants, in much the same relation to one another.

[Sidenote: The French Revolution in Two Periods]

How radical and far-reaching was the French Revolution in contrast to that of England will become apparent as we review the course of events in France during the decade 1789-1799. A brief summary at the close of this chapter will aim to explain the significance of the Revolution. Meanwhile, we shall devote our attention to a narrative of the main events.

The story falls naturally into two parts: First, 1789-1791, the comparatively peaceful transformation of the absolute, divine-right monarchy into a limited monarchy, accompanied by a definition of the rights of the individual and a profound change in the social order; second, 1792-1799, the transformation of the limited monarchy into a republic, attended by the first genuine trial of democracy, and attended likewise by foreign war and internal tumult. The story, in either of its parts, is not an easy one, for the reason that important roles are played simultaneously by five distinct groups of interested persons.

[Sidenote: Role of the Court and the Privileged]

In the first place, the people who benefit by the political and social arrangements of the "old regime" will oppose its destruction. Among these friends of the "old regime" may be included the royal court, headed by the queen, Marie Antoinette, and by the king's brothers, the count of Provence and the count of Artois, and likewise the bulk of the higher clergy and the nobles—the privileged classes, generally. These persons cannot be expected to surrender their privileges without a struggle, especially since they have been long taught that such privileges are of divine sanction. Only dire necessity compels them to acquiesce in the convocation of the Estates-General and only the mildest measures of reform can be palatable to them. They hate and dread revolution or the thought of revolution. Yet at their expense the Revolution will be achieved.

[Sidenote: Role of the Bourgeoisie]

In the second place, the bourgeoisie, who have the most to lose if the "old regime" is continued and the most to gain if reforms are obtained, will constitute the majority in all the legislative bodies which will assemble in France between 1789 and 1799. Their legislative decrees will in large measure reflect their class interests, and on one hand will terrify the court party and on the other will not fully satisfy the lower classes. The real achievements of the Revolution, however, will be those of the bourgeois assemblies.

[Sidenote: Role of the Urban Proletariat]

In the third place, the artisans and poverty-stricken populace of the cities, notably of Paris, will through bitter years lack for bread. They will expect great things from the assemblies and will revile the efforts of the court to impede the Revolution. They will shed blood at first to defend the freedom of the assemblies from the court, subsequently to bring the assemblies under their own domination. Without their cooperation the Revolution will not be achieved.

[Sidenote: Role of the Peasantry]

In the fourth place, the dull, heavy peasants, in whom no one has hitherto suspected brains or passions, long dumb under oppression, will now find speech and opinions and an unwonted strength. They will rise against their noble oppressors and burn castles and perhaps do murder. They will force the astonished bourgeoisie and upper classes to take notice of them and indirectly they will impress a significant social character upon the achievements of the Revolution.

[Sidenote: Role of the Foreign Powers]

Finally, the foreign monarchs must be watched, for they will be intensely interested in the story as it unfolds. If the French people be permitted with impunity to destroy the very basis of divine-right monarchy and to overturn the whole social fabric of the "old regime," how long, pray, will it be before Prussians, or Austrians, or Russians shall be doing likewise? With some thought for Louis XVI and a good deal of thought for themselves, the monarchs will call each other "brother" and will by and by send combined armies against the revolutionaries in France. At that very time the success of the Revolution will be achieved, for all classes, save only the handful of the privileged, will unite in the cause of France, which incidentally becomes the cause of humanity. Bourgeoisie, townsfolk, peasants, will go to the front and revolutionary France will then be found in her armies. Thereby not only will the Revolution be saved in France, but in the end it will be communicated to the uttermost parts of Europe.

THE END OF ABSOLUTISM IN FRANCE, 1789

[Sidenote: France on the Eve of the Revolution]

When the story opens, France is still the absolute, divine-right monarchy which Louis XIV had perfected and Louis XV had exploited. The social classes are still in the time-honored position which has been described in Chapter XIII. But all is not well with the "old regime." In the country districts the taxes are distressingly burdensome. In the cities there is scarcity of food side by side with starvation wages. Among the bourgeoisie are envy of the upper classes, an appreciation of the critical philosophy of the day, and a sincere admiration of what seem to be happier political and social conditions across the Channel in Great Britain. The public debt of France is enormous, and a large part of the national income must, therefore, be applied to the payment of interest: even the courtiers of Louis XVI find their pensions and favors and sinecures somewhat reduced. When the privileged classes begin to feel the pinch of hard times, it is certain that the finances are in sore straits.

[Sidenote: Financial Embarrassment]

In fact, all the great general causes of the French Revolution, which may be inferred from the two preceding chapters, may be narrowed down to the financial embarrassment of the government of Louis XVI. The king and his ministers had already had recourse to every expedient consistent with the maintenance of the "old regime" save one, and that one—the convocation of the Estates-General—was now to be tried. It might be that the representatives of the three chief classes of the realm would be able to offer suggestions to the court, whereby the finances could be improved and at the same time the divine-right monarchy and the divinely ordained social distinctions would be unimpaired.

[Sidenote: Convocation of the Estates-General]

With this idea of simple reform in mind, Louis XVI in 1788 summoned the Estates-General to meet at Versailles the following May. The Estates- General were certainly not a revolutionary body. Though for a hundred and seventy-five years the French monarchs had been able to do without them, they were in theory still a legitimate part of the old-time government. Summoned by King Philip the Fair in 1302, they had been thenceforth convoked at irregular intervals until 1614. Their organization had been in three separate bodies, representing by election the three estates of the realm—clergy, nobility, and commoners (Third Estate). Each estate voted as a unit, and two out of the three estates were sufficient to carry a measure. It usually happened that the clergy and nobility joined forces to outvote the commoners. The powers of the Estates-General had always been advisory rather than legislative, and the kings had frequently ignored or violated the enactments of the assembly. In its powers as well as in its organization, the Estates-General differed essentially from the Parliament of England. By the Estates-General the ultimate supremacy of the royal authority had never been seriously questioned.

[Sidenote: Election of the Estates-General]

The elections to the Estates-General were held in accordance with ancient usage throughout France in the winter of 1788-1789. Also, in accordance with custom, the electors were invited by the king to prepare reports on the condition of the locality with which they were familiar and to indicate what abuses, if any, existed, and what remedies, in their opinion, were advisable.

[Sidenote: The Cahiers]

By the time the elections were complete, it was apparent that the majority of the French people desired and expected a greater measure of reform than their sovereign had anticipated. The reports and lists of grievances that had been drafted in every part of the country were astounding. To be sure, these documents, called cahiers, were not revolutionary in wording: with wonderful uniformity they expressed loyalty to the monarchy and fidelity to the king: in not a single one out of the thousand cahiers was there a threat of violent change. But in spirit the cahiers were eloquent. All of them reflected the idea which philosophy had made popular that reason demanded fundamental, thoroughgoing reforms in government and society. Those of the Third Estate were particularly insistent upon the social inequalities and abuses long associated with the "old regime." It was clear that if the elected representatives of the Third Estate carried out the instructions of their constituents, the voting of additional taxes to the government would be delayed until a thorough investigation had been made and many grievances had been redressed.

[Sidenote: The Third Estate]

On the whole, it was probable that the elected representatives of the Third Estate would heed the cahiers. They were educated and brainy men. Two-thirds of them were lawyers or judges; many, also, were scholars; only ten could possibly be considered as belonging to the lower classes. A goodly number admired the governmental system of Great Britain, in which the royal power had been reduced; the class interests of all of them were directly opposed to the prevailing policies of the French monarchy. The Third Estate was too intelligent to follow blindly or unhesitatingly the dictates of the court.

In the earliest history of the Estates-General, the Third Estate had been of comparatively slight importance either in society or in politics, and Philip the Fair had proclaimed that the duty of its members was "to hear, receive, approve, and perform what should be commanded of them by the king." But between the fourteenth and eighteenth centuries the relative social importance of the bourgeoisie had enormously increased. The class was more numerous, wealthier, more enlightened, and more experienced in the conduct of business. It became clearer with the lapse of time that it, more than nobility or clergy, deserved the right of representing the bulk of the nation. This right Louis XVI had seemed in part to recognize by providing that the number of elected representatives of the Third Estate should equal the combined numbers of those of the First and Second Estates. The commoners naturally drew the deduction from the royal concession that they were to exercise paramount political influence in the Estates- General of 1789.

The Third Estate, as elected in the winter of 1788-1789, was fortunate in possessing two very capable leaders, Mirabeau and Sieyes, both of whom belonged by office or birth to the upper classes, but who had gladly accepted election as deputies of the unprivileged classes. With two such leaders, it was extremely doubtful whether the Third Estate would tamely submit to playing an inferior role in future.