THE MIDDLE CLASSES

Curious thing! The revolution does not start from below, but from above. The classes which suffer and are hungry are resigned and silent. The privileged classes, those who gorge themselves with gold and pleasures in the midst of public distress, are those that complain and make an uproar. The higher up you go on the social ladder, the less faith and virtue do you find. The people are better than the middle classes, the middle classes better than the nobility, the provincial nobles better than those of the court, the lower clergy superior to the prelates. One might say that, morality being in an inverse ratio to rank, the most dangerous adversaries of society are the very persons who have most to lose if it succumbs. The great proprietors are demolishing their houses and castles. The prelates are sapping the foundations of the churches. The princes of the blood are shaking down the throne. Thus it is that the so-called defenders of the social fortress are spiking their cannons, destroying their ramparts, dampening their powder, breaking their weapons, and will end by delivering the key of the citadel to the enemy.

A large majority of the middle classes are still resisting the inroads of impiety. In Paris and the provinces they say: “Without monarchy and the Church, no government.” In religion and politics, even if they are on the side of the opposition, they do not go beyond the liberties of the Gallican Church and the constitutional guaranties demanded by the parliaments. Even though they have ceased to love and esteem Louis XV., they continue to respect royalty in his person. Dignified, calm, reflective, they will neither make war on the nobles nor pay them court. As to the monarchy, they consider it as a dogma, an article of faith. Citizen Regnaud thus expresses himself: “It is a law of the State, consecrated in every age by the Divine law, to respect the sovereign even when he causes the unhappiness of the peoples confided to him by Providence. God forbid that I should undertake to infringe this sacred law in the history I am writing.”[6]

Another citizen, Prosper Hardy, makes the following declaration in his Memoirs: “Although I have never regarded myself as other than an atom in society, I think I deserve a distinguished place there by my inviolable fidelity to my sovereign and my love for his sacred person. The sentiments I imbibed from books and education will never be effaced from my heart. Albeit my fortune, by the will of Divine Providence, is of the most modest sort, a prospective income of a hundred thousand _écus_ would not cause me to forsake a boon which is dear to me and of which I cannot be deprived; to wit, honor and true patriotism. I shall always believe it my duty to think concerning the present controversies as the first magistrates of the realm do and the princes of the royal blood, who have manifested their sentiments toward our august master in a manner as authentic as respectful, and in a formal protest to which no good citizen can avoid paying homage and subscribing with all his soul.”[7] The opposition still remained dynastic. It enveloped itself in forms most deferential toward the person and authority of the sovereign. Hardy blames the ministers for the harm that has been done, without accusing Louis XV. He complains of despotism, never of the King.

If in the depths of the provinces one finds ancient manors and dungeon keeps blackened by time wherein dwell austere and worthy nobles, proud of their ancestors and their poverty, one also finds, even in worldly, frivolous Paris, old houses which shelter worthy people, peaceable _bourgeois_, citizens of their quarter, frequenters of their parish church, members of their corporation, who still lead a calm and patriarchal existence. Their life glides uniformly by, “developing like a captive stream its predetermined course, without ever losing sight of the shadow of the natal bell-tower, the church where rest the pious souvenirs of the family, and where the same half-open tomb awaits the generations. Between this ever-present term and this point of departure which is drawing near, the regulated forms of professional duty take possession of the man, occupy his soul, and replenish the capacity of his spirit.”[8]

The religious sentiment is still dominant, even at Paris, in the middle classes and the people. In February, 1766, Louis XV. is crossing the Pont-Neuf after leaving a bed of justice he has just held at the Parliament. A priest carrying the Viaticum passes in front of the cortège. The King alights from his carriage and kneels down. This mark of devotion causes enthusiastic admiration in the crowd, and cries of “Long live the King!” resound from every side with more than ordinary enthusiasm.

The citizen class is still Christian and royalist. But let no one be deceived. It also threatens to become revolutionary. Certain characteristic symptoms are beginning to make their appearance. The law clerks sometimes assume the aspect of demagogues, and a nameless breath of democracy often pervades the pits of theatres. I see an impatient youth springing up amid the middle classes which will bring all the turmoil of the new spirit into the old settings of a disorganized society. The opposition will increase by degrees, coming down from one social layer to another, from the princes of the blood to the popular masses who are as yet untouched.