408 Chapter XVII
If we wish a “model” as an aid in seeing the class conflicts, none is more appro-
priate, or more readily understandable, than that of a large transatlantic ocean liner
of the twentieth century, with its distinction of passengers into First, Cabin, and
Third or Tourist Class. The model reminds us, first of all, of a truth relevant to the
eighteenth century, that the classes lived in considerable ignorance of each other.
To the First Class passenger on the sun- deck or in spacious lounges, the daily
shipboard life and the exact differences between Cabin and Tourist may be rather
hazy. In the Cabin or “middle” class there may be people who would prefer to
travel First if they could afford it, others who think the First stuffy, pretentious,
and over- privileged in the amount of space it enjoys on the ship. The Tourist or
“popular” class is made up of people of more limited means, with a sprinkling of
college professors and “intellectuals” who are there by necessity or by choice. The
people in Tourist Class are not the rabble, nor paupers, nor idlers, nor chronically
unemployed, nor afflicted with any higher proportion than other classes of the
criminally inclined. They have a general idea of the boat as a whole, and they have
a destination in view. The more intimate details of the rest of the ship, however,
remain something of a mystery to them. They know that it is very commodious,
but have seen nothing of it except possibly a few public rooms. Normally they ac-
cept their cramped quarters as in the ordinary scheme of things.
Comes a revolution; the command of the ship breaks down. The Tourist Class
swarm over the ship; this is the Revolution of 1792. The First are appalled, crying
“mob rule”; some take to the life- boats (emigrate), others try to sit inconspicuously
in their staterooms, some resist, and a small handful pitch in with the insurgents.
The Cabin Class is torn both ways; some join with the First, but a good many dur-
ing the melée join forces with the Tourist. The Tourist insurgents cannot them-
selves manage the boat, nor bring it to the destination to which they themselves
wish to go. Problems of management and destination are not especially on their
minds. They do not wish to eat in the First Class dining salon, where they would
only be ill at ease. But they have the idea that dining facilities and other amenities
might be apportioned somewhat more equally.
The popular element in the French Revolution did not do very much writing,
so that in the absence of documents it has not been seen very distinctly by histo-
rians. Some years ago, in a book by an American, the mood of Paris in 1789 was
reconstructed through popular songs, sung in the streets, market- places, and
cafés. It showed a genuine surge of political feeling among an array of people
from engravers to fishwives.^5 The Revolution, among its other innovations, saw
the beginnings of a popular journalism. But the papers directed to a mass audi-
ence, such as those of Hébert or Marat, were written by men originating in the
middle class, who had aims of their own, and who sometimes adopted an air of
exaggerated vulgarity. Recently a number of studies, based on sources such as
police records and the surviving papers of the sections of Paris, have been made
in France, England, and East Germany. It is at last possible to draw a picture of
the menu peuple in the French Revolution, those who drove through the Revolu-
tion of 1792, and continued to press upon French governments thereafter. The
5 Cornwell Rogers, The Spirit of Revolution in 1789 (Princeton, 1949).