nded the note of alarm. The revolution,
as Burke maintained, was in fact the avatar of a diabolic power. It
meant an attack upon the very organic principles of society. It
therefore implied a complete breach of historical continuity, and a
war against the reverence for 'prescription' and tradition which is
essential to all healthy development. To his extreme opponents the
same theory afforded the justification of the revolution. It meant
that every institution was to be thrown into the crucible, and a new
world to arise governed only by reason. The view very ably defended by
Mackintosh was opposed to both. He looks upon the French revolution as
a more complete application of the principles of Locke and the English
Whigs of 1688. The revolutionists are, as he urges,[127] applying the
principles which had been worked out by the 'philosophers of Europe'
during the preceding century. They were not, as Burke urged,
rejecting experience for theory. The relation between their doctrine
and politics is analogous to the relation between geometry and
mechanics.[128] We are now in the position of a people who should be
familiar with Newton, but in shipbuilding be still on a level with the
Esquimaux. The 'rights of man' appear to him to mean, not, as Burke
and Bentham once agreed, a set of 'anarchical fallacies,' but a set of
fundamental moral principles; and the declaration of them a most wise
and 'auspicious' commencement of the 'regenerating labours' of the new
legislators. The French revolution represented what Somers would now
approve if he had our advantages.[129] A thoroughgoing change had
become necessary in France. The church, army, and law were now
'incorrigible.'[130] Burke had seen, in the confiscation of church
property, an attempt to abolish Christianity. To Mackintosh it seemed
to be a reform justifiable in principle, which, though too roughly
carried out, would reduce 'a servile and imperious priesthood to
humble utility.'[131] A poor priesthood, indeed, might incline to
popular superstition. We could console ourselves by reflecting that
the power of the church, as a corporation, was broken, and that
toleration and philosophy would restrain fanaticism.[132] The
assignats were still 'almost at par.'[133] The sale of the national
property would nearly extinguish the debt. France had 'renounced for
ever the idea of conquest,'[134] and had no temptations to war,
except her colonies. Their commercial inutility and politica