his performance, as a luminous criticism of the most
important side of the Revolution, are worth a hundred
times more than Burke, Mackintosh, and Paine all put
together. Young afterwards became panic-stricken,
but his book remained. There the writer plainly
enumerates without trope or invective the intolerable
burdens under which the great mass of the French people
had for long years been groaning. It was the
removal of these burdens that made the very heart’s
core of the Revolution, and gave to France that new
life which so soon astonished and terrified Europe.
Yet Burke seems profoundly unconscious of the whole
of them. He even boldly asserts that, when the
several orders met in their bailliages in 1789, to
choose their representatives and draw up their grievances
and instructions, in no one of these instructions
did they charge, or even hint at, any of those things
which had drawn upon the usurping Assembly the detestation
of the rational part of mankind. He could not
have made a more enormous blunder. There was
not a single great change made by the Assembly, which
had not been demanded in the lists of grievances that
had been sent up by the nation to Versailles.
The division of the kingdom into districts, and the
proportioning of the representation to taxes and population;
the suppression of the intendants; the suppression
of all monks and the sale of their goods and estates;
the abolition of feudal rights, duties, and services;
the alienation of the king’s domains; the demolition
of the Bastille; these and all else were in the prayers
of half the petitions that the country had laid at
the feet of the king.
If this were merely an incidental blunder in a fact,
it might be of no importance. But it was a blunder
which went to the very root of the discussion.
The fact that France was now at the back of the Assembly,
inspiring its counsels and ratifying its decrees, was
the cardinal element, and that is the fact which at
this stage Burke systematically ignored. That
he should have so ignored it, left him in a curious
position, for it left him without any rational explanation
of the sources of the policy which kindled his indignation
and contempt. A publicist can never be sure of
his position until he can explain to himself even
what he does not wish to justify to others. Burke
thought it enough to dwell upon the immense number
of lawyers in the Assembly, and to show that lawyers
are naturally bad statesmen. He did not look
the state of things steadily in the face. It was
no easy thing to do, but Burke was a man who ought
to have done it. He set all down to the ignorance,
folly, and wickedness of the French leaders. This
was as shallow as the way in which his enemies, the
philosophers, used to set down the superstition of
eighteen centuries to the craft of priests, and all
defects in the government of Europe to the cruelty
of tyrants. How it came about that priests and
tyrants acquired their irresistible power over men’s