of science or truth, I would say, that every man who has been a
_successful_ student of nature, and who will rest his conclusions
on the same maxims of probable reasoning that have procured him
success in his past researches, will consider it as next to certain
that there is another state of existence for rational man. For he
must own, that if this be not the case, there is a most singular
exception to a proposition which the whole course of his experience
has made him consider as a truth founded on universal induction,
viz. that _nature accomplishes all her plans_, and that every class
of beings attains all the improvement of which it is capable. Let
him but turn his thoughts inward, he will feel that his intellect
is capable of improvement, in comparison with which Newton is but a
child. I could pursue this argument very far, and (I think) warm the
heart of every man whom I should wish to call my friend.
What opinion will be formed of this Association by the modest, the
lowly-minded, the candid, who acknowledge that they too often feel
the superior force of present and sensible pleasures, by which their
minds are drawn off from the contemplation of what their consciences
tell them to be right,--to be their dutiful and filial sentiments
and emotions respecting their great and good Parent--to be their
dutiful and neighbourly affections, and their proper conduct to all
around them--and which diminish their veneration for that purity
of thought and moderation of appetite which becomes their noble
natures? What must _they_ think of this Order? Conscious of frequent
faults, which would offend themselves if committed by their dearest
children, they look up to their Maker with anxiety--are grieved
to have so far forgotten their duty, and fearful that they may
again forget it. Their painful experience tells them that their
reason is often too weak, their information too scanty, or its
light is obstructed by passion and prejudices, which distort and
discolour every thing; or it is unheeded during their attention to
present objects. Happy should they be, if it should please their
kind Parent to remind them of their duty from time to time, or to
influence their mind in any way that would compensate for their
own ignorance, their own weakness, or even their indolence and
neglect. They dare not expect such a favour, which their modesty
tells them they do not deserve, and which they fear may be unfit
to be granted; but when such a comfort is held out to them, with
eager hearts they receive it--they bless the kindness that granted
it, and the hand that brings it.----Such amiable characters have
appeared in all ages, and in all situations of mankind. They have
not in all instances been wise--often have they been precipitate,
and have too readily caught at any thing which pretended to give
them the so much wished-for assistances; and, unfortunately, there
have been enthusiasts, or villains, who have taken advantage of
this, universal wish of anxious man; and the world has been darkened
by cheats, who have misrepresented God to mankind, have filled us
with vain terrors, and have then quieted our fears by fines, and
sacrifices, and mortifications, and services, which they said were
more than sufficient to expiate all our faults. Thus was our duty
to our neighbour, to our own dignity, and to our Maker and Parent,
kept out of sight, and religion no longer came in aid to our sense
of right and wrong; but, on the contrary, by these superstitions it
opened the doors of heaven to the worthless and the wicked.--But I
wish not to speak of these men, but of the good, the candid, the
MODEST, the HUMBLE, who know their failings, who love their duties,
but wish to know, to perceive, and to love them still more. These
are they who think and believe that "the Gospel has brought life and
immortality to light," that is, within their reach. They think it
worthy of the Father of mankind, and they receive it with thankful
hearts, admiring above all things the simplicity of its morality,
comprehended in one sentence, "Do to another what you can reasonably
wish that another should do to you," and THAT PURITY OF THOUGHT
AND MANNERS WHICH DISTINGUISHES IT FROM ALL THE SYSTEMS OF MORAL
INSTRUCTION THAT HAVE EVER BEEN OFFERED TO MEN. Here they find a
ground of resignation under the troubles of life, and a support
in the hour of death, quite suited to the diffidence or their own
character. Such men are ready to grant that the Stoics were persons
of noble and exalted minds, and that they had worthy conceptions
of the rank of man in the scale of God's works; but they confess
that they themselves do not feel all that support from Stoical
principles which man too frequently needs; and they say that they
are not singular in their opinions, but that the bulk of mankind are
prevented, by their want of heroic fortitude, by their situation, or
their want of the opportunities of cultivating their native strength
of mind, from ever attaining this hearty submission to the will of
the Deity. They maintain, that the Stoics were but a few, a very
few, from among many millions--and therefore _their_ being satisfied
was but a trifle amidst the general discontent, and anxiety,
and despair.--Such men will most certainly start back from this
Illumination with horror and fright--from a Society which gives the
lie to their fondest expectations, makes a sport of their grounds
of hope, and of their deliverer; and which, after laughing at their
credulity, bids them shake off all religion whatever, and denies the
existence of that Supreme Mind, the pattern of all excellence, who
till now had filled their thoughts with admiration and love--from
an Order which pretends to free them from spiritual bondage, and
then lays on their necks a load ten times more oppressive and
intolerable, from which they have no power of ever escaping. Men
of sense and virtue will spurn at such a proposal; and even the
profligate, who trade with Deity, must be sensible that they will be
better off with their priests, whom they know, and among whom they
may make a selection of such as will with patience and gentleness
clear up their doubts, calm their fears, and encourage their hopes.
And all good men, all lovers of peace and of justice, will abhor
and reject the thought of overturning the present constitution of
things, faulty as it may be, merely in the endeavour to establish
another, which the vices of mankind may subvert again in a
twelvemonth. They must see, that in order to gain their point,
the proposers have found it necessary to destroy the grounds of
morality, by permitting the most wicked means for accomplishing any
end that our fancy, warped by passion or interest, may represent
to us as of great importance. They see, that instead of morality,
vice must prevail, and that therefore there is no security for
the continuance of this Utopian felicity; and, in the mean time,
desolation and misery must lay the world waste during the struggle,
and half of those for whom we are striving will be swept from the
face of the earth. We have but to look to France, where in eight
years there have been more executions and spoliations and distresses
of every kind by the _pouvoir revolutionnaire_, than can be found in
the long records of that despotic monarchy.
There is nothing in the whole constitution of the Illuminati that
strikes me with more horror than the proposals of Hercules and
Minos to enlist the women in this shocking warfare with all that
"is good, and pure, and lovely, and of good report." They could not
have fallen on any expedient that will be more effectual and fatal.
If any of my countrywomen shall honour these pages with a reading,
I would call on them, in the most earnest manner, to consider this
as an affair of the utmost importance to themselves. I would conjure
them by the regard they have for their own dignity, and for their
rank in society, to join against these enemies of human nature and
profligate degraders of the sex; and I would assure them that the
present state of things almost puts it in their power to be the
saviours of the world. But if they are remiss, and yield to the
seduction, they will fall from that high state to which they have
arisen in Christian Europe, and again sink into that insignificancy
or slavery in which the sex is found in all ages and countries out
of the hearing of Christianity.
I hope that my countrywomen will consider this solemn address to
them as a proof of the high esteem in which I hold them. They will
not be offended then if, in this season of alarm and anxiety, when
I wish to impress their minds with a serious truth, I shall wave
ceremony, which is always designing, and speak of them in honest but
decent plainness.
Man is immersed in luxury. Our accommodations are now so numerous
that every thing is pleasure. Even in very sober situations in
this highly-cultivated Society, there is hardly a thing that
remains in the form of a necessary of life, or even of a mere
conveniency--every thing is ornamented--it must not appear of
use--it must appear as giving some sensible pleasure. I do not
say this by way of blaming--it is nature--man is a refining
creature, and our most boasted acquirements are but refinements
on our necessary wants. Our hut becomes a palace, our blanket a
fine dress, and our arts become sciences. This discontent with the
natural condition of things, and this disposition to refinement,
is a characteristic of our species, and is the great employment
of our lives. The direction which this propensity chances to take
in any age or nation, marks its character in the most conspicuous
and interesting manner. All have it in some degree, and it is very
conceivable that, in some, it may constitute the chief object of
attention. If this be the case in any nations, it is surely most
likely to be so in those where the accommodations of life are the
most numerous--therefore in a rich and luxurious nation. I may
surely, without exaggeration or reproach, give that appellation to
our own nation at this moment. If you do not go to the very lowest
class of people, who must labour all day, is it not the chief object
of all to procure _perceptible pleasure_ in one way or another? The
sober and busy struggle in the thoughts and hopes of getting the
means of enjoying the _comforts_ of life without farther labour--and
many have no other object than pleasure.
Then let us reflect that it is woman that is to _grace_ the
whole.--It is in nature, it is the very constitution of man, that
woman, and every thing connected with woman, must appear as the
ornament of life. That this mixes with every other social sentiment,
appears from the conduct of our species in all ages and in every
situation. This I presume would be the case even though there were
no qualities in the sex to justify it. This sentiment respecting
the sex is necessary, in order to rear so helpless, so nice, and so
improveable a creature as man; without it, the long abiding task
could not be performed:--and I think that I may venture to say
that it is performed in the different states of society nearly in
proportion as this preparatory and indispensable sentiment is in
force.
On the other hand, I think it no less evident that it is the
desire of the women to be agreeable to the men, and that they will
model themselves according to what they think will please. Without
this adjustment of sentiments by nature, nothing would go on. We
never observe any such want of symmetry in the works of God. If,
therefore, those who take the lead, and give the fashion in society,
were wise and virtuous, I have no doubt but that the women would set
the brightest pattern of every thing that is excellent. But if the
men are nice and fastidious sensualists, the women will be refined
and elegant voluptuaries.
There is no deficiency in the female mind, either in talents or
in dispositions; nor can we say with certainty that there is any
subject of intellectual or moral discussion in which women have
not excelled. If the delicacy of their constitution, and other
physical causes, allow the female sex a smaller share of some mental
powers, they possess others in a superior degree, which are no
less respectable in their own nature, and of as great importance
to society. Instead of descanting at large on their powers of
mind, and supporting my assertions by the instances of a Hypatia,
a Schurman, a Zenobia, an Elizabeth, &c. I may repeat the account
given of the sex by a person of uncommon experience, who saw them
without disguise, or any motive that could lead them to play a
feigned part--Mr. Ledyard, who traversed the greatest part of the
world, for the mere indulgence of his taste for observation of human
nature; generally in want, and often in extreme misery.
"I have (says he) always remarked that women, in all countries, are
civil, obliging, tender, and humane: that they are ever inclined
to be gay and cheerful, timorous and modest; and that they do not
hesitate, like men, to perform a kind or generous action.--Not
haughty, not arrogant, not supercilious, they are full of courtesy,
and fond of society--more liable in general to err than man, but
in general, also, more virtuous, and performing more good actions
than he. To a woman, whether civilized or savage, I never addressed
myself in the language of decency and friendship--without receiving
a decent and friendly answer--with man it has often been otherwise.
"In wandering over the barren plains of inhospitable Denmark,
through honest Sweden, and frozen Lapland, rude and churlish
Finland, unprincipled Russia, and the wide spread regions of the
wandering Tartar,--if hungry, dry, cold, wet, or sick, the women
have ever been friendly to me, and uniformly so; and to add to this
virtue, (so worthy of the appellation of benevolence,) these actions
have been performed in so free and so kind a manner, that if I was
thirsty, I drank the sweetest draught, and if hungry, I ate the
coarse meal with a double relish."
And these are they whom Weishaupt would corrupt! One of these,
whom he had embraced with fondness, would he have murdered, to
save his honour, and qualify himself to preach virtue! But let us
not be too severe on Weishaupt--let us wash ourselves clear of all
stain before we think of reprobating him. Are we not guilty in
some degree, when we do not cultivate in the women those powers of
mind, and those dispositions of heart, which would equally dignify
them in every station as in those humble ranks in which Mr. Ledyard
most frequently saw them? I cannot think that we do this. They
are not only to _grace_ the whole of cultivated society, but it
is in their faithful and affectionate personal attachment that we
are to find the sweetest pleasures that life can give. Yet in all
these situations where the manner in which they are treated is not
dictated by the stern laws of necessity, are they not trained up
for mere amusement--are not serious occupations considered as a
task which hurts their loveliness? What is this but selfishness,
or as if they had no virtues worth cultivating? Their _business_
is supposed to be the ornamenting themselves, as if nature did
not dictate this to them already, with at least as much force as
is necessary. Every thing is prescribed to them _because it makes
them more lovely_--even their moral lessons are enforced by this
argument, and Miss Woolstoncraft is perfectly right when she says
that the fine lessons given to young women by Fordyce or Rousseau
are nothing but selfish and refined voluptuousness. This advocate
of her sex puts her sisters in the proper point of view, when
she tells them that they are, like man, the subjects of God's
moral government,--like man, preparing themselves for boundless
improvement in a better state of existence. Had she adhered to
this view of the matter, and kept it constantly in sight, her book
(which doubtless contains many excellent things, highly deserving
of their serious consideration) would have been a most valuable
work. She justly observes, that the virtues of the sex are great and
respectable, but that in our mad chace of pleasure, only pleasure,
they are little thought of or attended to. Man trusts to his own
uncontroulable power, or to the general goodness of the sex, that
their virtues will appear when we have occasion for them;--"but we
will send for these some other time:"--Many noble displays do they
make of the most difficult attainments. Such is the patient bearing
up under misfortunes, which has no brilliancy to support it in the
effort. This is more difficult than braving danger in an active and
conspicuous situation. How often is a woman left with a family, and
the shattered remains of a fortune, lost perhaps by dissipation
or by indolence--and how seldom, how very seldom, do we see woman
shrink from the task, or discharge it with negligence? Is it not
therefore folly next to madness, not to be careful of this our
greatest blessing--of things which so nearly concern our peace--nor
guard ourselves, and these our best companions and friends, from
the effects of this fatal Illumination? It has indeed brought to
light what dreadful lengths men will go, when under the fanatical
and dazzling glare of happiness in a state of liberty and equality,
and spurred on by insatiable luxury, and not held in check by moral
feelings and the restraints of religion--and mark, reader, that
the women have here also taken the complexion of the men, and have
even gone beyond them. If we have seen a son present himself to the
National Assembly of France, professing his satisfaction with the
execution of his father three days before, and declaring himself a
true citizen, who prefers the nation to all other considerations; we
have also seen, on the same day, wives denouncing their husbands,
and (O shocking to human nature!) mothers denouncing their sons,
as bad citizens and traitors. Mark too what return the women have
met with for all their horrid services, where, to express their
sentiments of civism and abhorrence of royalty, they threw away
the character of their sex, and bit the amputated limbs of their
murdered countrymen[10]. Surely these patriotic women merited that
the rights of their sex should be considered in full council, and
they were well entitled to a seat; but there is not a single act of
their government in which the sex is considered as having any rights
whatever, or that they are things to be cared for.
[10] I say this on the authority of a young gentleman, an emigrant,
who saw it, and who said, that they were women, not of the dregs of
the Palais Royal, nor of infamous character, but well dressed.--I am
sorry to add, that the relation, accompanied with looks of horror
and disgust, only provoked a contemptuous smile from an illuminated
British Fair-one.
Are not the accursed fruits of Illumination to be seen in the
present humiliating condition of woman in France? pampered in
every thing that can reduce them to the mere instruments of animal
pleasure. In their present state of national moderation (as they
call it) and security, see Madame Tallien come into the public
theatre, accompanied by other _beautiful_ women, (I was about to
have misnamed them Ladies,) laying aside all modesty, and presenting
themselves to the public view, with bared limbs, _à la Sauvage_, as
the alluring objects of desire. I make no doubt but that this is a
serious matter, encouraged, nay, prompted by government. To keep the
minds of the Parisians in the present fever of dissolute gaiety,
they are at more expence from the national treasury for the support
of the sixty theatres, than all the pensions and honorary offices
in Britain, three times told, amount to. Was not their abominable
farce in the church of Notre Dame a bate of the same kind in the
true spirit of Weishaupt's _Eroterion_? "We do not," said the
high priest, "call you to the worship of inanimate idols. Behold a
master-piece of nature, (lifting up the veil which concealed the
naked charms of the beautiful Madms. Barbier): This sacred image
should inflame all hearts." And it did so; the people shouted out,
"No more altars, no more priests, no God but the God of Nature."
Orleans, the first prince of the blood, did not scruple to
prostitute his daughter, if not to the embraces, yet to the wanton
view of the public, with the precise intention of inflaming their
desires. (See the account given of the dinners at Sillery's, by
Camille Desmoulines, in his speech against the Brissotins.) But
what will be the end of all this? The fondlings of the wealthy will
be pampered in all the indulgences which fastidious voluptuousness
finds necessary for varying or enhancing its pleasures; but they
will either be slighted as toys, or they will be immured; and the
companions of the poor will be drudges and slaves.
I am fully persuaded that it was the enthusiastic admiration of
Grecian democracy that recommended to the French nation the dress
_à la Grecque_, which exhibits not the elegant, ornamented beauty,
but the alluring female, fully as well as Madame Tallien's dress _à
la Sauvage_. It was no doubt with the same adherence to _serious
principle_, that Mademoiselle Therouanne was most beautifully
dressed _à l'Amazonne_ on the 5th of October 1789, when she turned
the heads of so many young officers of the regiments at Versailles.
The Cythera, the _hominum divunque voluptas_, at the cathedral of
Notre Dame, was also dressed _à la Grecque_: There is a most evident
and characteristic change in the whole system of female dress in
France. The _Filles de l'Opera_ always gave the _ton_, and were
surely withheld by no rigid principle. They sometimes produced very
extravagant and fantastic forms, but these were almost always in
the style of the highest ornament, and they trusted, for the rest
of the impression which they wished to make, to the fascinating
expression of elegant movements. This indeed was wonderful, and
hardly conceivable by any who have not seen a grand ballet performed
by good actors. I have shed tears of the most sincere and tender
sorrow during the exhibition of Antigone, set to music by Traëtta,
and performed by Madame Meilcour and S^{re} Torelli, and Zantini.
I can easily conceive the impression to be still stronger, though
perhaps of another kind, when the former superb dresses are changed
for the expressive simplicity of the Grecian. I cannot help
thinking that the female ornaments in the rest of Europe, and even
among ourselves, have less elegance since we lost the sanction of
the French court. But see how all this will terminate, when we
shall have brought the sex so low, and will not even wait for a
Mahometan paradise. What can we expect but such a dissoluteness of
manners, that the endearing ties of relation and family, and mutual
confidence within doors, will be slighted, and will cease; and every
man must stand up for himself, single and alone?
_Foecunda culpæ sæcula nuptias
Primum inquinavêre, et genus, et domos.
Hoc fonte derivata clades
In patriam populumque fluxit._
HOR. iii. 6. 17.
This is not the suggestion of prudish fear, I think it is the
natural course of things, and that France is at this moment giving
to the world the fullest proof of Weishaupt's sagacity, and the
judgment with which he has formed his plans. Can it tend to the
improvement of our morals or manners to have our ladies frequent the
gymnastic theatres, and see them decide, like the Roman matrons, on
the merits of a naked gladiator or wrestler? Have we not enough of
this already with our vaulters and posture-masters, and should we
admire any lady who had a rage for such spectacles? Will it improve
our taste to have our rooms ornamented with such paintings and
sculptures as filled the cenaculum, and the study of the refined and
elegant moralist Horace, who had the art--_ridendo dicere verum_?
Shall we be improved when such indulgences are thought compatible
with such lessons as he generally gives for the conduct of life? The
pure Morality of Illuminatism is now employed in stripping Italy
of all those precious remains of ancient art and voluptuousness;
and Paris will ere long be the deposit and the resort of artists
from all nations, there to study the works of ancient masters, and
to return from thence panders of public corruption. The plan is
masterly, and the low-born Statesmen and Generals of France may in
this respect be set on a level with a Colbert or a Condé. But the
consequences of this Gallic dominion over the minds of fallen man
will be as dreadful as their dominion over their lives and fortunes.