John Harrison Wilson, The life of Charles Henry Dana

[75]

Indeed, in nothing that belongs to the sphere of the statesman is [his] administration above mediocrity; it marches in the line of juste-milieu and of routine — is neither one thing nor the other-does not gain the confidence of the bourgeoisie nor the attachment of the people, and has nothing to rely upon but the army, the fear of change and an uncertain something that may follow the change, which naturally exercises a great influence in the Assembly, if not on the population in general. . . .

And so it was to the end. The provisional government took no liberties with the people but to maintain order. Its chief laid down no policies and propounded no theories of social reform, but steadily maintained order, holding the drawn sword between the factions, and finally handing over the government intact and unbroken to his elected successor. He had been called by the Assembly to the position he occupied. He had entered upon it with devotion, and he would go out of it with honor. While Dana at the time seemed to think this but a narrow platform — a policy of negation, and therefore a bitter disappointment to the people, whose privations and sacrifices entitled them to something better-he could not withhold his tribute of admiration from its author “for the firmness and chivalrous spirit with which he assumed his position.” He evidently feared his failure, yet hoped for success, and it is to be recorded that his success was complete. What Dana thought of it finally is unknown, but there can be but little doubt that in later years he would have given it unstinted praise had he been called upon for an opinion. Even a revolution does not appear from a central point of observation, as it does from one far removed either in distance or time.

So far as one can judge from Dana's analysis of the speeches and the newspaper discussions, he sympathized with those who stood out for the “right of every individual ”