In the eighteenth century the French peasantry could no longer be preyed4 upon by petty feudal5 despots; they were seldom the object of violence on the part of the Government; they enjoyed civil liberty, and were owners of a portion of the soil; but all the other classes of society stood aloof6 from this class, and perhaps in no other part of the world had the peasantry ever lived so entirely7 alone. The effects of this novel and singular kind of oppression deserve a very attentive8 separate consideration.
As early as the beginning of the seventeenth century, Henry IV. complained, as we learn from Péréfix, that the nobles were quitting the rural districts. In the middle of the eighteenth century this desertion had become almost general; all the records of the time indicate and deplore9 the fact, economists10 in their writings, the Intendants in their reports, agricultural societies in their proceedings12. A more authentic13 proof of the same fact is to be found in the registers of the capitation tax. The capitation tax was levied14 at the actual place of residence, and it was paid by the whole of the great nobility and by a portion of the landed gentry15 at Paris.
In the rural districts none remained but such of the gentry as their limited means compelled to stay there. These persons must have found themselves placed in a position with reference to the peasants, his neighbours, such as no rich proprietor16 can be conceived to have occupied before.[59] Being no longer in the position of a chief, they had not the same interest as of old to attend to, or assist, or direct the village population; and, on the other hand, not being subject to the same burdens, they could neither feel much sympathy with poverty which they did not share, nor with grievances17 to which they were not exposed. The peasantry were[106] no longer the subjects of the gentry; the gentry were not yet the fellow-citizens of the peasantry—a state of things unparalleled in history.
This gave rise to a sort of absenteeism of feeling, if I may so express myself, even more frequent and more effectual than absenteeism properly so called. Hence it arose that a gentleman residing on his estate frequently displayed the views and sentiments which his steward18 would have entertained in his absence; like his steward, he learned to look upon his tenants19 as his debtors20, and he rigorously exacted from them all that he could claim by law or by custom, which sometimes rendered the application of the last remnant of feudal rights more harsh than it had been in the feudal times.
Often embarrassed, and always needy21, the small gentry lived shabbily in their country-houses, caring only to amass22 money enough to spend in town during the winter. The people, who often find an expression which hits the truth, had given to these small squires24 the name of the least of the birds of prey3, a hobereau, a sort of Squire23 Kite.
No doubt individual exceptions might be presented to these observations: I speak of classes, which ought alone to detain the attention of history. That there were in those times many rich landowners who, without any necessary occasion and without a common interest, attended to the welfare of the peasantry, who will deny? But these were persons who struggled successfully against the law of their new condition, which, in spite of themselves, was driving them into indifference25, as it was driving their former vassals26 into hatred27.
This abandonment of a country life by the nobility has often been attributed to the peculiar28 influence of certain ministers and certain kings—by some to Richelieu, by others to Louis XIV. It was, no doubt, an idea almost always pursued by the Kings of France, during the three last centuries of the monarchy29, to separate the gentry from the people, and to attract the former to Court and to public employments. This was especially the case in the seventeenth century, when the nobility were still an object of fear to royalty30. Amongst the questions addressed to the Intendants, they were sometimes asked—‘Do the gentry of your province like to stay at home, or to go abroad?’
A letter from an Intendant has been found giving his answer on this subject: he laments31 that the gentry of his province like to remain with their peasants, instead of fulfilling their duties about the King. And let it here be well remarked, that the province of[107] which this Intendant was speaking was Anjou—that province which was afterwards La Vendée. These country gentlemen who refused, as he said, to fulfil their duties about the King, were the only country gentlemen who defended with arms in their hands the monarchy in France, and died there fighting for the Crown; they owed this glorious distinction simply to the fact that they had found means to retain their hold over the peasantry—that peasantry with whom they were blamed for wishing to live.
Nevertheless the abandonment of the country by the class which then formed the head of the French nation must not be mainly attributed to the direct influence of some of the French kings. The principal and permanent cause of this fact lay not so much in the will of certain men as in the slow and incessant32 influence of institutions; and the proof is, that when, in the eighteenth century, the Government endeavoured to combat this evil, it could not even check the progress of it. In proportion as the nobility completely lost its political rights without acquiring others, and as local freedom disappeared, this emigration of the nobles increased. It became unnecessary to entice33 them from their homes; they cared not to remain there. Rural life had become distasteful to them.
What I here say of the nobles applies in all countries to rich landowners. In all centralised countries the rural districts lose their wealthy and enlightened inhabitants. I might add that in all centralised countries the art of cultivation34 remains35 imperfect and unimproved—a commentary on the profound remark of Montesquieu, which determines his meaning, when he says that ‘land produces less by reason of its own fertility than of the freedom of its inhabitants.’ But I will not transgress36 the limits of my subject.
We have seen elsewhere that the middle classes, equally ready to quit the rural districts, sought refuge from all sides in the towns. On no point are all the records of French society anterior37 to the Revolution more agreed. They show that a second generation of rich peasants was a thing almost unknown. No sooner had a farmer made a little money by his industry than he took his son from the plough, sent him to the town, and bought him a small appointment. From that period may be dated the sort of strange aversion which the French husbandman often displays, even in our own times, for the calling which has enriched him. The effect has survived the cause.
To say the truth, the only man of education—or, as he would be called in England, the only gentleman—who permanently[108] resided amongst the peasantry and in constant intercourse38 with them, was the parish priest. The result was that the priest would have become the master of the rural populations, in spite of Voltaire, if he had not been himself so nearly and ostensibly linked to the political order of things; the possession of several political privileges exposed him in some degree to the hatred inspired by those political institutions.[60]
The peasant was thus almost entirely separated from the upper classes; he was removed from those of his fellow-creatures who might have assisted and directed him. In proportion as they attained39 to enlightenment or competency, they turned their backs on him; he stood, as it were, tabooed and set apart in the midst of the nation.
This state of things did not exist in an equal degree amongst any of the other civilized40 nations of Europe, and even in France it was comparatively recent. The peasantry of the fourteenth century were at once more oppressed and more relieved. The aristocracy sometimes tyrannised over them, but never forsook41 them.
In the eighteenth century, a French village was a community of persons, all of whom were poor, ignorant, and coarse; its magistrates42 were as rude and as contemned43 as the people; its syndic could not read; its collector could not record in his own handwriting the accounts on which the income of his neighbours and his own depended. Not only had the former lord of the manor44 lost the right of governing this community, but he had brought himself to consider it a sort of degradation45 to take any part in the government of it. To assess the taille, to call out the militia46, to regulate the forced labour, were servile offices, devolving on the syndic. The central power of the State alone took any care of the matter, and as that power was very remote, and had as yet nothing to fear from the inhabitants of the villages, the only care it took of them was to extract revenue.
Let me show you what a forsaken47 class of society becomes which no one desires to oppress, but which no one attempts to enlighten or to serve.
The heaviest burdens which the feudal system had imposed on the rural population had without doubt been withdrawn48 and mitigated50; but it is not sufficiently51 known that for these burdens others had been substituted, perhaps more onerous52. The peasant had not to endure all the evils endured by his forefathers53, but he supported many hardships which his forefathers had never known.
[109]
The taille had been decupled, almost exclusively at the cost of the peasantry, in the preceding two centuries. And here a word must be said of the manner in which this tax was levied, to show what barbarous laws may be founded and maintained in civilised ages, when the most enlightened men in the nation have no personal interest in changing them.
I find in a confidential54 letter, written by the Comptroller-General himself, in 1772, to the Intendants, a description of this tax, which is a model of brevity and accuracy. ‘The taille,’ said that minister, ‘arbitrarily assessed, collectively levied as a personal, not a real, tax in the great part of France, is subject to continual variations from all the changes which happen every year in the fortunes of the taxpayers56.’ The whole is in these three phrases. It is impossible to depict57 more ably the evil by which the writer profited.
The whole sum to be paid by each parish was fixed58 every three years. It perpetually varied59, as the minister says, so that no farmer could foresee a year beforehand what he would have to pay in the year following. In the internal economy of each parish any one of the peasants named by the collector was entrusted60 with the apportionment of the tax on the rest.
I have said I would explain what was the condition of this collector. Let us take this explanation in the language of the Assembly of the Province of Berri in 1779, a body not liable to suspicion, for it was entirely composed of privileged persons, who paid no taille, and were chosen by the King. ‘As every one seeks to evade61 this office of collector,’ said this Assembly, ‘each person must fill it in turn. The levy62 of the taille is therefore entrusted every year to a fresh collector, without regard to his ability or his integrity; the preparation of each roll of assessment63 bears marks, therefore, of the personal character of the officer who makes it. The collector stamps on it his own fears, or foibles, or vices64. How, indeed, could he do better? He is acting65 in darkness, for who can tell with precision the wealth of his neighbour or the proportion of his wealth to that of another? Nevertheless the opinion of the collector alone is to decide these points, and he is responsible with all his property and even his person for the receipts. He is commonly obliged for two whole years to lose half his days in running after the taxpayers. Those who cannot read are obliged to find a neighbour to perform the office for them.’
Turgot had already said of another province, a short time before, ‘This office of collector drives to despair, and generally to[110] ruin, those on whom it is imposed; by this means all the wealthier families of a village are successively reduced to poverty.’
This unhappy officer was, however, armed with the most arbitrary powers;[61] he was almost as much a tyrant66 as a martyr67. Whilst he was discharging functions by which he ruined himself, he had it in his power to ruin everybody else. ‘Preference for his relations,’ to recur68 to the language of the Provincial69 Assembly, ‘or for his friends and neighbours, hatred and revenge against his enemies, the want of a patron, the fear of affronting70 a man of property who had work to give, were at issue with every feeling of justice.’ Personal fear often hardened the heart of the collector; there were parishes in which he never went out but escorted by constables71 and bailiffs. ‘When he comes without the constable,’ said an Intendant to a Minister, in 1764, ‘the persons liable to the tax will not pay.’ ‘In the district of Villefranche alone,’ says the Provincial Assembly of Guienne, ‘there were one hundred and six officers constantly out to serve writs72 and levy distraints.’
To evade this violent and arbitrary taxation73 the French peasantry, in the midst of the eighteenth century, acted like the Jews in the Middle Ages. They were ostensibly paupers74, even when by chance they were not so in reality. They were afraid to be well off; and not without reason, as may be seen from a document which I select, not from Guienne, but a hundred leagues off. The Agricultural Society of Maine announced in its Report of 1761, that it proposed to distribute cattle by way of prizes and encouragements. ‘This plan was stopped,’ it adds, ‘on account of the dangerous consequences to be apprehended75 by a low jealousy76 of the winners of these prizes, which, by means of the arbitrary assessment of the public taxes, would occasion them annoyance77 in the following year.’
Under this system of taxation each tax-payer had, in fact, a direct and permanent interest to act as a spy on his neighbours, and to denounce to the collector the progress of their fortunes. The whole population was thus trained to delation and to hatred. Were not such things rather to be expected in the domains78 of a rajah of Hindostan?
There were, however, at the same time in France certain districts in which the taxes were raised with regularity79 and moderation; these were called the pays d’état.[62] It is true that to these districts the right of levying80 their own taxes had been left. In Languedoc, for example, the taille was assessed on real property,[111] and did not vary according to the means of the holder81. Its fixed and known basis was a survey which had been carefully made, and was renewed every thirty years, and in which the lands were divided, according to their fertility, into three classes. Every taxpayer55 knew beforehand exactly what his proportion of the charge amounted to. If he failed to pay, he alone, or rather his land alone, was liable. If he thought the assessment unjust, he might always require that his share should be compared with that of any other inhabitant of the parish, on the principle of what is now termed in France an appeal to proportionate equality.
These regulations are precisely82 those which are now followed in France; they have not been improved since that time, but they have been generalised: for it deserves observation, that although the form of the public administration in France has been taken from the Government anterior to the Revolution, nothing else has been copied from that Government. The best of the administrative83 forms of proceeding11 in modern France have been borrowed from the old Provincial Assemblies, and not from the Government. The machine was adopted, but its produce rejected.
The habitual84 poverty of the rural population had given birth to maxims86 little calculated to put an end to it. ‘If nations were well off,’ said Richelieu, in his Political Testament87, ‘hardly would they keep within the rules.’ In the eighteenth century this maxim85 was modified, but it was still believed that the peasantry would not work without the constant stimulus88 of necessity, and that want was the only security against idleness. That is precisely the theory which is sometimes professed89 with reference to the negro population of the colonies. It was an opinion so generally diffused90 amongst those who governed that almost all the economists thought themselves obliged to combat it at length.
The primary object of the taille was to enable the King to purchase recruits so as to dispense91 the nobles and their vassals from military service; but in the seventeenth century the obligation of military service was again imposed, as we have seen, under the name of the militia, and henceforth it weighed upon the common people only, and almost exclusively on the peasantry.
The infinite number of police reports from the constables, which are still to be found amongst the records of any intendancy, all relating to the pursuit of refractory92 militia-men or deserters, suffice to prove that this force was not raised without obstacles. It seems, indeed, that no public burden was more insupportable to the peasantry than this: to evade it they frequently fled into the woods, where they were pursued by the armed authorities. This[112] is the more singular, when we see the facility with which the conscription works in France in the present times.
This extreme repugnance93 of the peasantry of France before the Revolution to the militia was attributable less to the principle of the law than to the manner in which the law was executed; more especially from the long period of uncertainty94, during which it threatened those liable to be drawn49 (they could be taken until forty years of age, unless they were married)—from the arbitrary power of revision, which rendered the advantage of a lucky number almost useless—from the prohibition95 to hire a substitute—from disgust at a hard and perilous96 profession, in which all hope of advancement97 was forbidden; but, above all, from the feeling that this oppressive burden rested on themselves alone, and on the most wretched amongst themselves, the ignominy of this condition rendering98 its hardships more intolerable.
I have had means of referring to many of the returns of the draft for the militia, as it was made in 1769 in a large number of parishes. In all these returns there are some exemptions100: this man is a gentleman’s servant; that, the gamekeeper of an abbey; a third is only the valet of a man of inferior birth, but who, at least, ‘lives like a nobleman.’ Wealth alone afforded an exemption101; when a farmer annually102 figured amongst those who paid the largest sum in taxes, his sons were dispensed103 from the militia; that was called encouragement of agriculture. Even the economists, who, in all other points, were great partisans104 of social equality, were not shocked by this privilege; they only suggested that it should be extended, or, in other words, that the burden of the poorest and most friendless of the peasants should become more severe. ‘The low pay of the soldier,’ said one of these writers, ‘the manner in which he is lodged105, dressed, and fed, and his entire state of dependence106, would render it too cruel to take any but a man of the lowest orders.’
Down to the close of the reign107 of Louis XIV. the high roads were not repaired, or were repaired at the cost of those who used them, namely, the State and the adjacent landowners. But about that time the roads began to be repaired by forced labour only, that is to say, exclusively at the expense of the peasantry.[63] This expedient108 for making roads without paying for them was thought so ingenious, that in 1737 a circular of the Comptroller-General Orry established it throughout France. The Intendants were armed with the right of imprisoning109 the refractory at pleasure, or of sending constables after them.[64]
[113]
From that time, whenever trade augmented110, so that more roads were wanted or desired, the corvée or forced labour extended to new lines, and had more work to do. It appears from the Report made in 1779 to the Provincial Assembly of Berri, that the works executed by forced labour in that poor province were estimated in one year at 700,000 livres. In 1787 they were computed111 at about the same sum in Lower Normandy. Nothing can better demonstrate the melancholy112 fate of the rural population; the progress of society, which enriched all the other classes, drove them to despair, and civilisation itself turned against that class alone.
I find about the same time, in the correspondence of the Intendants, that leave was to be refused to the peasants to do their forced labour on the private roads of their own villages, since this labour was to be reserved to the great high roads only, or, as they were then called, ‘the King’s highway.’ The strange notion that the cost of the roads was to be defrayed by the poorest persons, and by those who were the least likely to travel by them, though of recent date, took such root in the minds of those who were to profit by it, that they soon imagined that the thing could not be done differently.[65] In 1766 an attempt was made to commute113 this forced labour into a local rate, but the same inequality survived, and affected114 this new species of tax.
Though originally a seignorial right, the system of forced labour, by becoming a royal right, was gradually extended to almost all public works. In 1719 I find it was employed to build barracks. ‘Parishes are to send their best workmen,’ said the Ordinance115, ‘and all other works are to give way to this.’ The same forced service was used to escort convicts to the galleys116 and beggars to the workhouse;[66] it had to cart the baggage of troops as often as they changed their quarters, a burden which was very onerous at a time when each regiment117 carried heavy baggage after it. Many carts and oxen had to be collected for the purpose.[67] This sort of obligation, which signified little at its origin, became one of the most burdensome when standing1 armies grew more numerous. Sometimes the Government contractors118 loudly demanded the assistance of forced labour to convey timber from the forests to the naval119 arsenals120. These peasants commonly received certain wages, but they were arbitrarily fixed and low.[68] The burden of an impost121 so ill-assessed sometimes became so heavy as to excite the uneasiness of the receivers of the taille. ‘The outlay[114] required of the peasants on the roads,’ said one of these officers in 1751, ‘is such, that they will soon be quite unable to pay the taille.’
Could all these new oppressions have been established if there had been in the vicinity of these peasants any men of wealth and education, disposed and able, if not to defend them, at least to intercede122 for them, with that common master who already held in his grasp the fortunes of the poor and of the rich?
I have read a letter of a great landowner, writing in 1774 to the Intendant of his province, to induce him to open a road. This road, he said, would cause the prosperity of the village, and for several reasons; he then went on to recommend the establishment of a fair, which would double, he thought, the price of produce. With excellent motives123, he added that with the assistance of a small contribution a school might be established, which would furnish the King with more industrious124 subjects. It was the first time that these necessary ameliorations had occurred to him; he had only thought of them in the preceding two years, which he had been compelled by a lettre de cachet to spend in his own house. ‘My exile for the last two years in my estates,’ he candidly125 observed, ‘has convinced me of the extreme utility of these things.’
It was more especially in times of scarcity126 that the relaxation127 or total interruption of the ties of patronage128 and dependence, which formerly129 connected the great rural proprietors130 and the peasantry, was manifest. At such critical times the Central Government, alarmed by its own isolation131 and weakness, sought to revive for the nonce the personal influences or the political associations which the Government itself had destroyed; they were summoned to its aid, but they were summoned in vain, and the State was astonished to find that those persons were defunct132 whom it had itself deprived of life.
In this extremity133 some of the Intendants—Turgot, for instance—in the poorest provinces, issued illegal ordinances134 to compel the rich landowners to feed their tenants till the next harvest. I have found, under the date of 1770, letters from several parish priests, who propose to the Intendants to tax the great landowners, both clerical and lay, ‘who possess vast estates which they do not inhabit, and from which they draw large revenues to be spent elsewhere.’
At all times the villages were infested135 with beggars; for, as Letronne observes, the poor were relieved in the towns, but in the country, during the winter, mendicity was their only resource.
Occasionally these poor wretches136 were treated with great violence.[115] In 1767 the Duc de Choiseul, then Minister, resolved suddenly to suppress mendicity in France. The correspondence of the Intendants still shows with what rigour his measures were taken. The patrol was ordered at once to take up all the beggars found in the kingdom; it is said that more than 50,000 of them were seized. Able-bodied vagabonds were to be sent to the galleys; as for the rest, more than forty workhouses were opened to receive them. It would have been more to the purpose to have opened the hearts of the rich.
This Government of the ancient French monarchy, which was, as I have said, so mild, and sometimes so timid, so full of formalities, of delays, and of scruples137, when it had to do with those who were placed above the common people, was always harsh and always prompt in proceeding against the lower orders, especially against the peasantry. Amongst the records which I have examined, I have not seen one relating to the arrest of a man of the middle class by order of the Intendant; but the peasants were arrested continually, some for forced labour, some for begging, some for the militia, some by the police or for a hundred other causes. The former class enjoyed independent courts of justice, long trials, and a public procedure; the latter fell under the control of the provost-marshal, summarily and without appeal.[69]
‘The immense distance which exists between the common people and all the other classes of society,’ Necker wrote in 1785, ‘contributes to avert138 our observation from the manner in which authority may be handled in relation to all those persons lost in a crowd. Without the gentleness and humanity which characterise the French and the spirit of this age, this would be a continual subject of sorrow to those who can feel for others under burdens from which they are themselves exempt99.’
But this oppression was less apparent in the positive evil done to those unhappy classes than in the impediments which prevented them from improving their own condition. They were free and they were owners of land, yet they remained almost as ignorant, and often more indigent139, than the serfs, their forefathers. They were still without industrial employment, amidst all the wonderful creations of the modern arts; they were still uncivilised in a world glittering with civilisation. If they retained the peculiar intelligence and perspicacity140 of their race, they had not been taught to use these qualities; they could not even succeed in the cultivation of the soil, the only thing they had to do. ‘The husbandry I see before me is that of the tenth century,’ was the remark of a[116] celebrated141 English agriculturist in France. They excelled in no profession but in that of arms; there at least they came naturally and necessarily into contact with the other classes.
In this depth of isolation and indigence142 the French peasantry lived; they lived enclosed and inaccessible143 within it. I have been surprised and almost shocked to perceive that less than twenty years before the Catholic worship was abolished without resistance in France and the churches desecrated144, the means taken to ascertain145 the population of a district were these: the parish priests reported the number of persons who had attended at Easter at the Lord’s table—an estimate was added for the probable number of children and of the sick; the result gave the whole body of the population. Nevertheless the spirit of the age had begun to penetrate146 by many ways into these untutored minds; it penetrated147 by irregular and hidden channels, and assumed the strangest shapes in their narrow and obscure capacities. Yet nothing seemed as yet externally changed; the manners, the habits, the faith of the peasant seemed to be the same; he was submissive, and was even merry.
There is something fallacious in the merriment which the French often exhibit in the midst of the greatest calamities148. It only proves that, believing their ill fortune to be inevitable149, they seek to throw it off by not thinking of it, but not that they do not feel it. Open to them a door of escape from the evil they seem to bear so lightly, and they will rush towards it with such violence as to pass over your body without so much as seeing you, if you are on their path.
These things are clear to us, from our point of observation; but they were invisible to contemporary eyes. It is always with great difficulty that men belonging to the upper classes succeed in discerning with precision what is passing in the mind of the common people, and especially of the peasantry. The education and the manner of life of the peasantry give them certain views of their own, which remain shut to all other classes. But when the poor and the rich have scarcely any common interests, common grievances, or common business, the darkness which conceals150 the mind of the one from the mind of the other becomes impenetrable, and the two classes might live for ever side by side without the slightest interpenetration. It is curious to observe in what strange security all those who inhabited the upper or the middle storeys of the social edifice151 were living at the very time when the Revolution was beginning, and to mark how ingeniously they discoursed152 on the virtues153 of the common people, on their gentleness, on their[117] attachment154 to themselves, on their innocent diversions; the absurd and terrible contrast of ‘93 was already beneath their feet.
Let us here pause for a moment as we proceed to consider, amidst all these minute particulars which I have been describing, one of the greatest laws of Providence155 in the government of human societies.
The French nobility persisted in standing aloof from the other classes; the landed gentry ended by obtaining exemptions from most of the public burdens which rested upon them; they imagined that they should preserve their rank whilst they evaded156 its duties, and for a time this seemed to be so. But soon an internal and invisible malady157 appeared to have infected their condition; it dwindled158 away though no one touched it, and whilst their immunities159 increased their substance declined. The middle classes, with which they had been so reluctant to mingle160, grew in wealth and in intelligence beside them, without them, and against them; they had rejected the middle classes as associates and as fellow-citizens; but they were about to find in those classes their rivals, soon their enemies, at length their masters. A superior power had relieved them from the care of directing, of protecting, of assisting their vassals; but as that power had left them in the full enjoyment161 of their pecuniary162 rights and their honorary privileges, they conceived that nothing was lost to them. As they still marched first, they still thought they were leading; and indeed they had still about them men whom, in the language of the law, they named their subjects—others were called their vassals, their tenants, their farmers. But, in reality, none followed them; they were alone, and when those very classes rose against them, flight was their only resource.
Although the destinies of the nobility and the middle classes have differed materially from each other, they have had one point of resemblance: the men of the middle classes had ended by living as much apart from the common people as those of the upper classes. Far from drawing nearer to the peasantry, they had withdrawn from all contact with their hardships; instead of uniting themselves closely to the lower orders, to struggle in common against a common inequality, they only sought to establish fresh preferences in their own favour; and they were as eager to obtain exemptions for themselves as the nobles were to maintain their privileges. These peasants, from whom the middle classes had sprung, were not only become strangers to their descendants, but were literally163 unknown by them; and it was not until arms had been placed by the middle classes in their hands that those classes[118] perceived what unknown passions they had kindled—passions which they could neither guide nor control, and which ended by turning the instigators of those passions into their victims.
In all future ages the ruins of that great House of France, which had seemed destined164 to extend over the whole of Europe, will be the wonder of mankind; but those who read its history with attention will understand without difficulty its fall. Almost all the vices, almost all the errors, almost all the fatal prejudices I have had occasion to describe, owed either their origin, or their duration, or their extent to the arts practised by most of the kings of France to divide their subjects in order to govern them more absolutely.
But when the middle classes were thus thoroughly165 severed166 from the nobility, and the peasantry from the nobility, as well as from the middle classes—when, by the progress of the same influences within each class, each of them was internally subdivided167 into minute bodies, almost as isolated168 from each other as the classes to which they belonged, the result was one homogeneous mass, the parts of which no longer cohered169. Nothing was any longer so organised as to thwart170 the Government—nothing so as to assist it; insomuch that the whole fabric171 of the grandeur172 of the monarchy might fall to pieces at once and in a moment as soon as the society on which it rested was disturbed.
And the people, which alone seem to have learnt something from the misconduct and the mistakes of all its masters, if indeed it escaped their empire, failed to shake off the false notions, the vicious habits, the evil tendencies which those masters had imparted to it, or allowed it to assume. Sometimes that people has carried the predilections173 of a slave into the enjoyment of its liberty, alike incapable174 of self-government and hostile to those who would have directed it.
I now resume my track; and, losing sight of the old and general facts which have prepared the great Revolution I design to paint, I proceed to the more particular and more recent incidents which finally determined175 its occurrence, its origin, and its character.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
standing
|
|
| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
civilisation
|
|
| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
prey
|
|
| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
preyed
|
|
| v.掠食( prey的过去式和过去分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
feudal
|
|
| adj.封建的，封地的，领地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
aloof
|
|
| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
attentive
|
|
| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
deplore
|
|
| vt.哀叹，对...深感遗憾 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
economists
|
|
| n.经济学家，经济专家( economist的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
proceeding
|
|
| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
proceedings
|
|
| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
authentic
|
|
| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
levied
|
|
| 征（兵）( levy的过去式和过去分词 )； 索取； 发动（战争）； 征税 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
gentry
|
|
| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
proprietor
|
|
| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
grievances
|
|
| n.委屈( grievance的名词复数 )；苦衷；不满；牢骚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
steward
|
|
| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
tenants
|
|
| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
debtors
|
|
| n.债务人，借方( debtor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
needy
|
|
| adj.贫穷的，贫困的，生活艰苦的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
amass
|
|
| vt.积累，积聚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
squire
|
|
| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
squires
|
|
| n.地主，乡绅( squire的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
vassals
|
|
| n.奴仆( vassal的名词复数 )；（封建时代）诸侯；从属者；下属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
hatred
|
|
| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
monarchy
|
|
| n.君主，最高统治者；君主政体，君主国 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
royalty
|
|
| n.皇家，皇族 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
laments
|
|
| n.悲恸，哀歌，挽歌( lament的名词复数 )v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
incessant
|
|
| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
entice
|
|
| v.诱骗，引诱，怂恿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
cultivation
|
|
| n.耕作，培养，栽培（法），养成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
remains
|
|
| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
transgress
|
|
| vt.违反，逾越 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
anterior
|
|
| adj.较早的；在前的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
intercourse
|
|
| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
attained
|
|
| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
civilized
|
|
| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
forsook
|
|
| forsake的过去式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
magistrates
|
|
| 地方法官，治安官( magistrate的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
contemned
|
|
| v.侮辱，蔑视( contemn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
44
manor
|
|
| n.庄园，领地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
degradation
|
|
| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
militia
|
|
| n.民兵，民兵组织 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
Forsaken
|
|
| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
withdrawn
|
|
| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
drawn
|
|
| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
mitigated
|
|
| v.减轻，缓和( mitigate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
onerous
|
|
| adj.繁重的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
forefathers
|
|
| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
confidential
|
|
| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
taxpayer
|
|
| n.纳税人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
taxpayers
|
|
| 纳税人，纳税的机构( taxpayer的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
depict
|
|
| vt.描画，描绘；描写，描述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
fixed
|
|
| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
varied
|
|
| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
entrusted
|
|
| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
evade
|
|
| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
levy
|
|
| n.征收税或其他款项，征收额 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
assessment
|
|
| n.评价；评估；对财产的估价，被估定的金额 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
vices
|
|
| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
tyrant
|
|
| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
martyr
|
|
| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
recur
|
|
| vi.复发，重现，再发生 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
provincial
|
|
| adj.省的，地方的；n．外省人，乡下人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
affronting
|
|
| v.勇敢地面对( affront的现在分词 )；相遇 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
71
constables
|
|
| n.警察( constable的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
writs
|
|
| n.书面命令，令状( writ的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
taxation
|
|
| n.征税，税收，税金 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
paupers
|
|
| n.穷人( pauper的名词复数 )；贫民；贫穷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
apprehended
|
|
| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 )； 理解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
jealousy
|
|
| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
annoyance
|
|
| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
domains
|
|
| n.范围( domain的名词复数 )；领域；版图；地产 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
regularity
|
|
| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
levying
|
|
| 征（兵）( levy的现在分词 )； 索取； 发动（战争）； 征税 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
holder
|
|
| n.持有者，占有者；(台，架等)支持物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
precisely
|
|
| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
administrative
|
|
| adj.行政的，管理的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
habitual
|
|
| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
maxim
|
|
| n.格言，箴言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
maxims
|
|
| n.格言，座右铭( maxim的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
testament
|
|
| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
stimulus
|
|
| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
professed
|
|
| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
diffused
|
|
| 散布的，普及的，扩散的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
dispense
|
|
| vt.分配，分发；配(药)，发(药)；实施 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
refractory
|
|
| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
repugnance
|
|
| n.嫌恶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
uncertainty
|
|
| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
prohibition
|
|
| n.禁止；禁令，禁律 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
perilous
|
|
| adj.危险的，冒险的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
advancement
|
|
| n.前进，促进，提升 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
rendering
|
|
| n.表现，描写 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
exempt
|
|
| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
exemptions
|
|
| n.（义务等的）免除( exemption的名词复数 )；免（税）；（收入中的）免税额 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
exemption
|
|
| n.豁免，免税额，免除 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
annually
|
|
| adv.一年一次，每年 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
dispensed
|
|
| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
partisans
|
|
| 游击队员( partisan的名词复数 )； 党人； 党羽； 帮伙 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
lodged
|
|
| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
106
dependence
|
|
| n.依靠，依赖；信任，信赖；隶属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
107
reign
|
|
| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
108
expedient
|
|
| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
109
imprisoning
|
|
| v.下狱，监禁( imprison的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
110
Augmented
|
|
| adj.增音的 动词augment的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
111
computed
|
|
| adj.[医]计算的，使用计算机的v.计算，估算( compute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
112
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
113
commute
|
|
| vi.乘车上下班；vt.减(刑)；折合；n.上下班交通 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
114
affected
|
|
| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
115
ordinance
|
|
| n.法令；条令；条例 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
116
galleys
|
|
| n.平底大船，战舰( galley的名词复数 )；（船上或航空器上的）厨房 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
117
regiment
|
|
| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
118
contractors
|
|
| n.（建筑、监造中的）承包人( contractor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
119
naval
|
|
| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
120
arsenals
|
|
| n.兵工厂，军火库( arsenal的名词复数 )；任何事物的集成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
121
impost
|
|
| n.进口税，关税 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
122
intercede
|
|
| vi.仲裁，说情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
123
motives
|
|
| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
124
industrious
|
|
| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
125
candidly
|
|
| adv.坦率地，直率而诚恳地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
126
scarcity
|
|
| n.缺乏，不足，萧条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
127
relaxation
|
|
| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
128
patronage
|
|
| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
129
formerly
|
|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
130
proprietors
|
|
| n.所有人，业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
131
isolation
|
|
| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
132
defunct
|
|
| adj.死亡的；已倒闭的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
133
extremity
|
|
| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
134
ordinances
|
|
| n.条例，法令( ordinance的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
135
infested
|
|
| adj.为患的，大批滋生的（常与with搭配）v.害虫、野兽大批出没于( infest的过去式和过去分词 )；遍布于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
136
wretches
|
|
| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
137
scruples
|
|
| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
138
avert
|
|
| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
139
indigent
|
|
| adj.贫穷的，贫困的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
140
perspicacity
|
|
| n. 敏锐, 聪明, 洞察力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
141
celebrated
|
|
| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
142
indigence
|
|
| n.贫穷 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
143
inaccessible
|
|
| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
144
desecrated
|
|
| 毁坏或亵渎( desecrate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
145
ascertain
|
|
| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
146
penetrate
|
|
| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
147
penetrated
|
|
| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
148
calamities
|
|
| n.灾祸，灾难( calamity的名词复数 )；不幸之事 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
149
inevitable
|
|
| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
150
conceals
|
|
| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
151
edifice
|
|
| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
152
discoursed
|
|
| 演说（discourse的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
153
virtues
|
|
| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
154
attachment
|
|
| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
155
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
156
evaded
|
|
| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
157
malady
|
|
| n.病，疾病(通常做比喻) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
158
dwindled
|
|
| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
159
immunities
|
|
| 免除，豁免( immunity的名词复数 )； 免疫力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
160
mingle
|
|
| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
161
enjoyment
|
|
| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
162
pecuniary
|
|
| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
163
literally
|
|
| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
164
destined
|
|
| adj.命中注定的；(for)以…为目的地的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
165
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
166
severed
|
|
| v.切断，断绝( sever的过去式和过去分词 )；断，裂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
167
subdivided
|
|
| 再分，细分( subdivide的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
168
isolated
|
|
| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
169
cohered
|
|
| v.黏合( cohere的过去式和过去分词 )；联合；结合；（指看法、推理等）前后一致 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
170
thwart
|
|
| v.阻挠，妨碍，反对；adj.横(断的) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
171
fabric
|
|
| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
172
grandeur
|
|
| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
173
predilections
|
|
| n.偏爱，偏好，嗜好( predilection的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
174
incapable
|
|
| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
175
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |