instructive, in a counterfactual way, to imagine whatnFrenchmen might have done had they been wholly inspirednby the English example of a century before. They wouldnnot, for one, have changed the name of their parliamentaryninstitutions from Estates General — a name dignified byncenturies of use — into a National Assembly. To change anname, after all, is to risk losing the authority of an institution:nthe British, by contrast, have progressively changed theirninstitutions over three centuries while keeping such namesnas Lords and Commons alive.nA France of Edmund Burkes would not have issued anDeclaration of the Rights of Man. It would have emendednthe existing laws of France one by one and over a period ofndecades with a view of legitimating human rights. It wouldnnot have confiscated church lands, but negotiated step-bystepna system of sale at favorable terms and with compensation.nIt would have kept the monarchy as a figurehead; andnkept the nobility, in dilution, by extending it throughout then19th century into the trading classes and professions. Itnwould have extended the suffrage gently and by stagesnduring the course of that century and beyond, testing thenpolitical literacy of each newly enfranchised class as it went.nAbove all, it would have publicly declared the FrenchnRevolution made by the Estates General a preservative act,nrestoring and defending the rights of Frenchmen sapped orndestroyed since Louis XIV assumed despotic powers inn1660. And it would not have indulged in revolutionary warsnunder the illusion of a universal creed or a liberating missionnfor the whole world, but stayed at home. The British, it isnnotable, made no effort to spread their revolution aftern1689. It was for foreigners to emulate it if they might, orncount the cost to themselves if they did not.nThe French Revolution, in that event, would have provedna far less literary event. It would have had to dispense withnmuch of the admiration of the young Wordsworth andnColeridge, and presumably all of Hazlitt’s. Good sense hasnits costs. None of Burke’s majestic fulminations of then1790’s predicting tyranny and woe to France and to thenFrench people; no Wordsworth’s Prelude, or at least nonACLU WATCHnIn February the Minnesota Civil LibertiesnUnion informed 50 school districtsnthat they could change their Indiannnicknames or face the prospect of beingnsued. The MCLU said the threats ofnsuits in federal court were designed tonstop disparaging references to Indians.nTen schools in the Twin Cities area gotnto seriously discussing the question.nSet aside the questions of is this thengreat wrong the ACLU was establishednto right, jurisdiction, and judicious usenof tax dollars. Just enjoy the irony thatnbefore preceding nobody at the MCLUn18/CHRONICLESnLIBERAL ARTS-nmMWw>m^sr^f^m^m^:n•^”^^^^SS:-^^^^^.^nasked the Indians what they thought ofnthe matter. In March the Leech Lakenband of Minnesota Chippewa objected.n”We are opposed to the action of thenMCLU, and we question their authoritynto speak on our behalf,” said thenband’s representative, Myron Ellis.n”We view the use of Indian names as anpoint of pride if they are used respectfullynand in good taste. The vast majoritynof our people do not have a problemnwith the various school districts usingnIndian names to represent their teams.”nEugene Boshey, chairman of thenBois Forte (Nett Lake) Reservation,nsaid his reservation Business Commit­nnnbooks IX and X; and just possibly, no Godwin’s PoliticalnJustice, which appeared in 1793; and no radical sense ofnrevolution.nFor it is with Godwin, and as late as 1793, thatn”revolution” becomes a radical word in English for the firstntime, and few Europeans since the start of the 19th centurynhave doubted that it signifies something radical. Thentransformation was swift and sure. Revolution is “instigatednby a horror against tyranny,” said Godwin, writing withinnthree years of the fall of the Bastille. Godwin is no friend tonradical revolution. But, like most modern theorists, he thinksnit is all that there is. An idealist passionately dedicated to freendebate and rational discourse, he detests an act which, beingnviolent, is always likely to create chaos, inhibit the exercise ofnreason and deny freedom of speech, even of mind. “Therenis no period more at war with the existence of liberty,” henwrites, “than one of political violence, where freedom ofnspeech is ‘trebly fettered’ and slavery ‘complete.'” PoliticalnJustice, that neglected masterpiece of political intelligence, isna radical and an antirevolutionary book; radical becausenantirevolutionary, antirevolutionary because radical. Thatnwas a perception soon to be adopted and extended bynShelley, Godwin’s son-in-law, who despised revolution asnmuch as Godwin did, and longed only for peaceful andnrational change. That strain of radical thought, thrown up innreaction to the French Revolution and its violent excesses,nhas since enjoyed its own untold history, mainly in Britishncolonies. Gandhi, for example, was by intellectual descent anGodwinian. And it helps to confirm that almost all theneffects of the French Revolution on the Anglo-Saxon mind,nand on the minds of its imperial subjects, were in the longnrun negative. Seventeen eighty-nine was a cautionary tale.nDickens’s Tale of Two Cities (1859) sums up that case:nDickens was a radical, and in his fiction he sees the Paris ofnthe 1790’s only as a theater of horror. More recently, andnmore learnedly, Monsieur Sedillot has confirmed that view.nLeave the Bastille where it is—that is the wisdom of thennew age. Go round it, and find another way.ntee will probably pass a resolution supportingnthe “Indians” nickname of thennearby school in Orr. “A big percentagenof our kids go to that school,” hensaid.nIncluded on the MCLU’s target listnwas the Pipestone High School, whichnuses the nickname the “Arrows.” Thennickname refers to Robin Hood, however,nand not Sitting Bull. Once thatnlittle matter of source was explained tonthe MCLU it did the lawyer’s equivalentnof “Whoops” and withdrew itsnthreat. What we want to know is, arenthe English complaining? (KD)nn