LETTER VII.
Paris.
It would be almost superfluous to observe, that there are a great many people in France, who think in a very different manner from that which I have mentioned in my last, and who have just and liberal ideas of the design and nature of government, and proper and manly sentiments of the natural rights of mankind. The writings of Montesquieu are greatly admired: This alone is sufficient to prove it. Many later authors, and the conversation of the philosophical and reasoning people, display the same spirit.
What is mentioned in my last letter, however, comprehends the general turn or manner of thinking of the French nation, and evinces how very opposite their sentiments upon the subject of civil government are, to those of our countrymen.
I have heard an Englishman enumerate the advantages of the British constitution to a circle of French Bourgeois, and explain to them in what manner the people of their rank of life were protected from the insolence of the courtiers and nobility; that the poorest shop-keeper and lowest tradesman in England, could have immediate redress for any injury done him by the greatest nobleman in the kingdom.
Well, what impression do you think this declamation had upon the French auditory? You will naturally imagine they would admire such a constitution, and wish for the same in France:—Not at all. They sympathized with the great: They seemed to feel for their want of importance. One observed, C’est peu de chose d’être noble chez vous; and another, shaking his head, added, Ce n’est pas naturel tout cela.
When mention was made that the king of Great Britain could not impose a tax by his own authority; that the consent of parliament, particularly of the house of commons, was necessary, to which assembly people of their rank of life were admitted; they said with some degree of satisfaction, Cependant, c’est assez beau cela. But when the English patriot, expecting their complete approbation, continued informing them, that the king himself had not the power to encroach upon the liberty of the meanest of his subjects; that if he or the minister did, damages were recoverable at a court of law, a loud and prolonged DIABLE issued from every mouth. They forgot their own situation, and the security of the people, and turned to their natural bias of sympathy with the King, who they all seemed to think must be the most oppressed and injured of mankind.
One of them at last, addressing himself to the English politician, said, Tout ce que je puis vous dire, Monsieur, c’est que votre pauvre Roi est bien à plaindre.