elves betrayed him, and Danton fell, to be succeeded by Robespierre
and his political criminal courts. Meanwhile, on September 20, 1792, the
Prussian column recoiled before the fire of Kellermann's mob of
"vagabonds, cobblers and tailors," on the slope of Valmy, and with the
victory of Valmy, the great eighteenth-century readjustment of the
social equilibrium of Europe passed into its secondary stage.

CHAPTER V

POLITICAL COURTS

In the eye of philosophy, perhaps the most alluring and yet illusive of
all the phenomena presented by civilization is that which we have been
considering. Why should a type of mind which has developed the highest
prescience when advancing along the curve which has led it to
ascendancy, be stricken with fatuity when the summit of the curve is
passed, and when a miscalculation touching the velocity of the descent
must be destruction?

Although this phenomenon has appeared pretty regularly, at certain
intervals, in the development of every modern nation, I conceive its
most illuminating example to be that intellectual limitation of caste
which, during the French Revolution, led to the creation of those
political criminal tribunals which reached perfection with Robespierre.

When coolly examined, at the distance of a century, the Royalist
combination for the suppression of equality before the law, as finally
evolved in 1792, did not so much lack military intelligence, as it
lacked any approximate comprehension of the modern mind. The Royalists
proposed to reestablish privilege, and to do this they were ready to
immolate, if necessary, their King and Queen, and all of their own order
who stayed at home to defend them. Indeed, speaking generally, they
valued Louis XVI, living, cheaply enough, counting him a more
considerable asset if dead. "What a noise it would make throughout
Europe," they whispered among themselves, "if the rabble should kill the
King."

Nor did Marie Antoinette delude herself on this score. At Pilnitz, in
1791, the German potentates issued a declaration touching France which
was too moderate to suit the emigrants, who published upon it a
commentary of their own. This commentary was so revolting that when the
Queen read her brother-in-law's signature appended to it, she
exclaimed--"Cain."

The Royalist plan of campaign was this: They reckoned the energy of the
Revolution so low that they counted pretty confidently, in the summer
of 1792, on the ability of their