Reflections on the Revolution in France: Section 6 Summary & Analysis

Burke points out to Depont that the French might have benefited from the English example. After all, they still possessed the foundations of their old constitution, even after it was suspended; they still possessed those harmonious elements in their old state which would provide a basis for the new. These rudiments might have served to promote compromise and moderation instead of “harsh, crude, unqualified reformations.”

The fault of the French Revolution, Burke explains, is that France had many existing advantages, but “chose to act as if you had never been moulded into civil society, and had everything to begin anew.” If the French were discouraged by recent generations, then they might have looked further back in their history, finding in their ancestors “a standard of virtue and wisdom, beyond the vulgar practice of the hour,” and providing a needed example for the present: “Respecting your forefathers, you would have been taught to respect yourselves.” Failing in this, France instead has unleashed “an irreparable calamity to you and to mankind,” by “[rebelling] against a mild and lawful monarch” more violently than any other people has risen against an actual tyrant. What we see in France, Burke asserts, are “monuments of rash and ignorant counsel in time of profound peace.”

Burke argues that another problem is the composition of France’s newfound National Assembly, which he sees as composed of men unsuited to this new dignity—lacking the natural abilities for their position. The Third Estate is made up of 600 people, a majority of them lawyers, and “inferior, unlearned” lawyers at that—“country attorneys […] conductors of the petty war of village vexation.” These men, “not taught habitually to respect themselves,” can hardly be expected to handle their new position well, as they are “intoxicated with their unprepared greatness.” The situation is little improved by the presence of semi-literate “country clowns,” traders, physicians, and village clergy—very little of “the natural landed interest” of France.

In other words, Burke goes on, “excellence in […] peculiar functions may be far from a qualification for others.” People who spend their lives within narrow circles are probably not suited to roles that depend on a broad knowledge of humanity in general, especially knowledge of those interests “which go to the formation of that multifarious thing called a state.” The problem with the makeup of the National Assembly is that it has “no fundamental law, no strict convention” to restrain its actions. They can design a constitution from scratch, and they have “unbounded power.”

Burke argues that the majority of the Assembly, in its efforts to destroy the French nobility, will be led by the worst qualities of the nobility, as “turbulent, discontented men of quality” tend to despise their rivals. Burke argues that loving “the little platoon” each of us belongs to in society is the building-block of affection for our country, and for humanity. This suggests to us that only traitorous men “would barter away” their interests in their own place in society.

Burke continues by arguing that “When men of rank […] work with low instruments and for low ends, the whole composition becomes low and base.” This is what is now seen in France. Other revolutions had “long views,” with an eye toward the dignity of the people; they sought to “beautify the world,” “outshining” their competitors. By contrast, however, France’s “present confusion […] has attacked the fountain of life itself.” Burke cautions Depont that “those who attempt to level, never equalize;” those who attempt to level “pervert the natural order of things.” Such an “usurpation on the prerogatives of nature” can never last.

Burke notes the French chancellor’s remarks that “all occupations [are] honourable.” Burke agrees that the job of, say, a hair-dresser or a chandler should not be oppressed by the state; but “the state suffers oppression” if such are allowed to become rulers. While the French think they are combating “prejudice,” they are in fact “at war with nature.”

Burke clarifies that there are no qualifications for government besides “virtue and wisdom,” no matter where these are found. A state ought to be represented by ability, not just property. Nevertheless, property inheritance is important, because it’s linked to society’s perpetuation of itself. While it is possible to “idolize” hereditary wealth, it’s also possible for the “short-sighted coxcombs of philosophy” to “slight” the role that wealth plays. A certain preeminence granted to status, then, “is neither unnatural, nor unjust.” France, however, has “stayed out of the high road of nature.”