The Story of Mankind [113]
a realisation of this ideal, as
far as France was concerned, but the rest of Europe would
have been happier without him.
The country over which the young king was called to rule
was the most populous and the most brilliant nation of that
day. Louis came to the throne when Mazarin and Richelieu,
the two great Cardinals, had just hammered the ancient French
Kingdom into the most strongly centralised state of the seventeenth
century. He was himself a man of extraordinary ability.
We, the people of the twentieth century, are still
surrounded by the memories of the glorious age of the Sun King.
Our social life is based upon the perfection of manners and the
elegance of expression attained at the court of Louis. In
international and diplomatic relations, French is still the official
language of diplomacy and international gatherings because
two centuries ago it reached a polished elegance and a purity
of expression which no other tongue had as yet been able to
equal. The theatre of King Louis still teaches us lessons
which we are only too slow in learning. During his reign the
French Academy (an invention of Richelieu) came to occupy
a position in the world of letters which other countries have
flattered by their imitation. We might continue this list for
many pages. It is no matter of mere chance that our modern
bill-of-fare is printed in French. The very difficult art of
decent cooking, one of the highest expressions of civilisation,
was first practiced for the benefit of the great Monarch. The
age of Louis XIV was a time of splendour and grace which can
still teach us a lot.
Unfortunately this brilliant picture has another side which
was far less encouraging. Glory abroad too often means
misery at home, and France was no exception to this rule
Louis XIV succeeded his father in the year 1643. He died in
the year 1715. That means that the government of France
was in the hands of one single man for seventy-two years,
almost two whole generations.
It will be well to get a firm grasp of this idea, ``one single
man.'' Louis was the first of a long list of monarchs who in
many countries established that particular form of highly efficient
autocracy which we call ``enlightened despotism.'' He
did not like kings who merely played at being rulers and
turned official affairs into a pleasant picnic. The Kings of
that enlightened age worked harder than any of their subjects.
They got up earlier and went to bed later than anybody else,
and felt their ``divine responsibility'' quite as strongly as their
``divine right'' which allowed them to rule without consulting
their subjects.
Of course, the king could not attend to everything in person.
He was obliged to surround himself with a few helpers
and councillors. One or two generals, some experts upon foreign
politics, a few clever financiers and economists would do
for this purpose. But these dignitaries could act only through
their Sovereign. They had no individual existence. To the
mass of the people, the Sovereign actually represented in his
own sacred person the government of their country. The
glory of the common fatherland became the glory of a single
dynasty. It meant the exact opposite of our own American
ideal. France was ruled of and by and for the House of Bourbon.
The disadvantages of such a system are clear. The King
grew to be everything. Everybody else grew to be nothing at
all. The old and useful nobility was gradually forced to give
up its former shares in the government of the provinces. A little
Royal bureaucrat, his fingers splashed with ink, sitting behind
the greenish windows of a government building in faraway
Paris, now performed the task which a hundred years
before had been the duty of the feudal Lord. The feudal Lord,
deprived of all work, moved to Paris to amuse himself as best
he could at the court. Soon his estates began to suffer from
that very
far as France was concerned, but the rest of Europe would
have been happier without him.
The country over which the young king was called to rule
was the most populous and the most brilliant nation of that
day. Louis came to the throne when Mazarin and Richelieu,
the two great Cardinals, had just hammered the ancient French
Kingdom into the most strongly centralised state of the seventeenth
century. He was himself a man of extraordinary ability.
We, the people of the twentieth century, are still
surrounded by the memories of the glorious age of the Sun King.
Our social life is based upon the perfection of manners and the
elegance of expression attained at the court of Louis. In
international and diplomatic relations, French is still the official
language of diplomacy and international gatherings because
two centuries ago it reached a polished elegance and a purity
of expression which no other tongue had as yet been able to
equal. The theatre of King Louis still teaches us lessons
which we are only too slow in learning. During his reign the
French Academy (an invention of Richelieu) came to occupy
a position in the world of letters which other countries have
flattered by their imitation. We might continue this list for
many pages. It is no matter of mere chance that our modern
bill-of-fare is printed in French. The very difficult art of
decent cooking, one of the highest expressions of civilisation,
was first practiced for the benefit of the great Monarch. The
age of Louis XIV was a time of splendour and grace which can
still teach us a lot.
Unfortunately this brilliant picture has another side which
was far less encouraging. Glory abroad too often means
misery at home, and France was no exception to this rule
Louis XIV succeeded his father in the year 1643. He died in
the year 1715. That means that the government of France
was in the hands of one single man for seventy-two years,
almost two whole generations.
It will be well to get a firm grasp of this idea, ``one single
man.'' Louis was the first of a long list of monarchs who in
many countries established that particular form of highly efficient
autocracy which we call ``enlightened despotism.'' He
did not like kings who merely played at being rulers and
turned official affairs into a pleasant picnic. The Kings of
that enlightened age worked harder than any of their subjects.
They got up earlier and went to bed later than anybody else,
and felt their ``divine responsibility'' quite as strongly as their
``divine right'' which allowed them to rule without consulting
their subjects.
Of course, the king could not attend to everything in person.
He was obliged to surround himself with a few helpers
and councillors. One or two generals, some experts upon foreign
politics, a few clever financiers and economists would do
for this purpose. But these dignitaries could act only through
their Sovereign. They had no individual existence. To the
mass of the people, the Sovereign actually represented in his
own sacred person the government of their country. The
glory of the common fatherland became the glory of a single
dynasty. It meant the exact opposite of our own American
ideal. France was ruled of and by and for the House of Bourbon.
The disadvantages of such a system are clear. The King
grew to be everything. Everybody else grew to be nothing at
all. The old and useful nobility was gradually forced to give
up its former shares in the government of the provinces. A little
Royal bureaucrat, his fingers splashed with ink, sitting behind
the greenish windows of a government building in faraway
Paris, now performed the task which a hundred years
before had been the duty of the feudal Lord. The feudal Lord,
deprived of all work, moved to Paris to amuse himself as best
he could at the court. Soon his estates began to suffer from
that very