1. The Psychology of the Directory.
AS the various revolutionary assemblies were composed in part
of the same men, one might suppose that their psychology would be
very similar.
At ordinary periods this would have been so, for a
constant environment means constancy of character. But when
circumstances change as rapidly as they did under the Revolution,
character must perforce transform itself to adapt itself thereto.
Such was the case with the Directory.
The Directory comprised several distinct assemblies: two
large chambers, consisting of different categories of deputies,
and one very small chamber, which consisted of the five
Directors.
The two larger Assemblies remind one strongly of the
Convention by their weakness. They were no longer forced to obey
popular riots, as these were energetically prevented by the
Directors, but
they yielded without discussion to the dictatorial injunctions of
the latter.
The first deputies to be elected were mostly moderates.
Everyone was weary of the Jacobin tyranny. The new Assembly
dreamed of rebuilding the ruins with which France was covered,
and establishing a liberal government without violence.
But by one of those fatalities which were a law of the
Revolution, and which prove that the course of events is often
superior to men's wills, these deputies, like their predecessors,
may be said always to have done the contrary of what they wished
to do. They hoped to be moderate, and they were violent; they
wanted to eliminate the influence of the Jacobins, and they
allowed themselves to be led by them; they thought to repair the
ruins of the country and they succeeded only in adding others to
them; they aspired to religious peace, and they finally
persecuted and massacred the priests with greater rigour than
during the Terror.
The psychology of the little assembly formed by the five
Directors was very different from that of the Chamber of
Deputies. Encountering fresh difficulties daily, the directors
were forced to resolve them, while the large Assemblies, without
contact with realities, had only their aspirations.
The prevailing thought of the Directors was very simple.
Highly indifferent to principles, they wished above all to remain
the masters of France. To attain that result they did not shrink
from resorting to the most illegitimate measures, even annulling
the elections of a great number of the departments when these
embarrassed them.
Feeling themselves incapable of reorganising France, they
left her to herself. By their despotism they contrived to
dominate her, but they never governed her. Now, what France
needed more than anything at this juncture was to be governed.
The convention has left behind it the reputation of a
strong Government, and the Directory that of a weak Government.
The contrary is true: it was the Directory that was the strong
Government.
Psychologically we may readily explain the difference
between the Government of the Directory and that of the preceding
Assemblies by recalling the fact that a gathering of six hundred
to seven hundred persons may well suffer from waves of contagious
enthusiasm, as on the night of the 4th of August, or even
impulses of energetic will-power, such as that which launched
defiance against the kings of Europe. But such impulses are too
ephemeral to possess any great force. A committee of five
members, easily dominated by the will of one, is far more
susceptible of continuous resolution—that is, of perseverance in
a settled line of conduct.
The Government of the Directory proved to be always
incapable of governing, but it never lacked a strong will.
Nothing restraining it, neither respect for law nor consideration
for the citizens, nor love of the public welfare, it was able to
impose upon France a despotism more crushing than that of any
Government since the beginning of the Revolution, not excepting
the Terror.
Although it utilised methods analogous to those of the
Convention, and ruled France in the most tyrannical manner, the
Directory, no more than the Convention, was never the master of
France.
This fact, which I have already noted, proves once more
the impotence of material constraint to dominate moral forces.
It cannot be too often repeated that the true guide of mankind is
the moral scaffolding erected by his ancestors.
Accustomed to live in an organised society, supported by
codes and respected traditions, we can with difficulty represent
to ourselves the condition of a nation deprived of such a basis.
As a general thing we only see the irksome side of our
environment, too readily forgetting that society can exist only
on condition of imposing certain restraints, and that laws,
manners, and custom constitute a check upon the natural instincts
of barbarism which never entirely perishes.
The history of the Convention and the Directory which
followed it shows plainly to what degree disorder may overcome a
nation deprived of its ancient structure, and having for guide
only the artificial combinations of an insufficient reason.
