we shall be called great defenders of liberty. If the event shall prove
unhappy, we shall be called unfortunate rebels."
The French objected to him that the Corsican nation had no regular
troops. "We would not have them," said Paoli. "We should then have the
bravery of this and the other regiment. At present every single man is
as a regiment himself. Should the Corsicans be formed into regular
troops, we should lose that personal bravery which has produced such
actions among us, as in another country would have rendered famous even
a Marischal."[104]
[Footnote 104: See page 140.--ED.]
I asked him how he could possibly have a soul so superiour to interest.
"It is not superiour," said he; "my interest is to gain a name. I know
well that he who does good to his country will gain that: and I expect
it. Yet could I render this people happy, I would be content to be
forgotten. I have an unspeakable pride. 'Una superbia indicibile.' The
approbation of my own heart is enough."
He said he would have great pleasure in seeing the world, and enjoying
the society of the learned, and the accomplished in every country. I
asked him how with these dispositions he could bear to be confined to an
island yet in a rude uncivilised state; and instead of participating
Attick evenings, "noctes coenaeque Deûm," be in a continual course of
care and of danger. He replied in one line of Virgil,
"Vincet amor patriae laudumque immensa cupido."
This uttered with the fine open Italian pronunciation, and the graceful
dignity of his manner, was very noble. I wished to have a statue of him
taken at that moment.
I asked him if he understood English. He immediately began and spoke it,
which he did tolerably well. When at Naples he had known several Irish
gentlemen who were officers in that service. Having a great facility in
acquiring languages, he learnt English from them. But as he had been now
ten years without ever speaking it, he spoke very slow. One could see
that he was possessed of the words, but for want of what I may call
mechanical practice, he had a difficulty in expressing himself.
I was diverted with his English library. It consisted of--
Some broken volumes of the "Spectatour" and "Tatler."
Pope's "Essay on Man."
"Gulliver's Travels."
A "History of France," in old English. And "Barclay's Apology
for the Quakers."
I promised to send him some English books.[105]
[Footnote 105: I have sent him the works of Harrington, of Sidney, of
Addison, of Trenchard, of Gordon, and of other writers in favour of
liberty. I have also sent him some of our best books of morality and
entertainment, in particular the works of Mr. Samuel Johnson, with a
compleat set of the "Spectatour," "Tatler," and "Guardian;" and to the
University of Corte, I have sent a few of the Greek and Roman Classicks,
of the beautiful editions of the Messieurs Foulis at Glasgow.[A]]
[Footnote A: The fate of one of these books was curious. Dr. Moore (the
author of "Edward," and the father of Sir John Moore) visited Berne
somewhere about the year 1772 (he gives no dates). He went to examine
the public library of that town. "I happened," he says, "to open the
Glasgow edition of Homer, which I saw here; on a blank page of which was
an address in Latin to the Corsican General, Paoli, signed James
Boswell. This very elegant book had been sent, I suppose, as a present
from Mr. Boswell to his friend, the General; and, when that unfortunate
chief was obliged to abandon his country, fell, with other of his
effects, into the hands of the Swiss officer in the French service, who
made a present of the Homer to this library."--"A View of Society and
Manners in France," &c., by John Moore, M.D., vol. i., p. 307.--ED.]
He convinced me how well he understood our language; for I took the
liberty to shew him a Memorial which I had drawn up on the advantages to
Great Britain from an alliance with Corsica, and he translated this
memorial into Italian with the greatest facility. He has since given me
more proofs of his knowledge of our tongue by his answers to the letters
which I have had the honour to write to him in English, and in
particular by a very judicious and ingenious criticism on some of
Swift's works.
He was well acquainted with the history of Britain. He had read many of
the parliamentary debates, and had even seen a number of the "North
Briton."[106] He shewed a considerable knowledge of this country, and
often introduced anecdotes and drew comparisons and allusions from
Britain.
[Footnote 106: John Wilkes began the publication of the "North Briton"
in June, 1762.--ED.]
He said his great object was to form the Corsicans in such a manner that
they might have a firm constitution, and might be able to subsist
without him. "Our state," said he, "is young, and still requires the
leading strings. I am desirous that the Corsicans should be taught to
walk of themselves. Therefore when they come to me to ask whom they
should chuse for their Padre del Commune, or other Magistrate, I tell
them, 'You know better than I do the able and honest men among your
neighbours. Consider the consequence of your choice, not only to
yourselves in particular, but to the island in general.' In this manner
I accustom them to feel their own importance as members of the state."
After representing the severe and melancholy state of oppression under
which Corsica had so long groaned, he said, "We are now to our country
like the prophet Elishah stretched over the dead child of the Shunamite,
eye to eye, nose to nose, mouth to mouth. It begins to recover warmth,
and to revive. I hope it shall yet regain full health and vigour."
I said that things would make a rapid progress, and that we should soon
see all the arts and sciences flourish in Corsica. "Patience, Sir," said
he. "If you saw a man who had fought a hard battle, who was much
wounded, who was beaten to the ground, and who with difficulty could
lift himself up, it would not be reasonable to ask him to get his hair
well drest, and to put on embroidered clothes. Corsica has fought a hard
battle, has been much wounded, has been beaten to the ground, and with
difficulty can lift herself up. The arts and sciences are like dress and
ornament. You cannot expect them from us for some time. But come back
twenty or thirty years hence, and we'll shew you arts and sciences, and
concerts and assemblies, and fine ladies, and we'll make you fall in
love among us, Sir."
He smiled a good deal, when I told him that I was much surprised to find
him so amiable, accomplished, and polite; for although I knew I was to
see a great man, I expected to find a rude character, an Attila king of
the Goths, or a Luitprand[107], king of the Lombards.
[Footnote 107: Liutprand. See Gibbon's "Decline and Fall," chap.
xlix.--ED.]
I observed that although he had often a placid smile upon his
countenance, he hardly ever laughed. Whether loud laughter in general
society be a sign of weakness or rusticity, I cannot say; but I have
remarked that real great men, and men of finished behaviour, seldom fall
into it.
The variety, and I may say versatility, of the mind of this great man is
amazing. One day when I came in to pay my respects to him before dinner,
I found him in much agitation, with a circle of his nobles around him,
and a Corsican standing before him like a criminal before his judge.
Paoli immediately turned to me, "I am glad you are come, Sir. You
protestants talk much against our doctrine of transubstantiation. Behold
here the miracle of transubstantiation, a Corsican transubstantiated
into a Genoese. That unworthy man who now stands before me is a
Corsican, who has been long a lieutenant under the Genoese, in Capo
Corso. Andrew Doria and all their greatest heroes could not be more
violent for the republick than he has been, and all against his
country." Then turning to the man, "Sir," said he, "Corsica makes it a
rule to pardon the most unworthy of her children, when they surrender
themselves, even when they are forced to do so, as is your case. You
have now escaped. But take care. I shall have a strict eye upon you; and
if ever you make the least attempt to return to your traiterous
practices, you know I can be avenged of you." He spoke this with the
fierceness of a lion, and from the awful darkness of his brow, one could
see that his thoughts of vengeance were terrible. Yet when it was over,
he all at once resumed his usual appearance, called out "andiamo, come
along;" went to dinner, and was as chearful and gay as if nothing had
happened.
His notions of morality are high and refined, such as become the Father
of a nation. Were he a libertine, his influence would soon vanish; for
men will never trust the important concerns of society to one they know
will do what is hurtful to society for his own pleasures. He told me
that his father had brought him up with great strictness, and that he
had very seldom deviated from the paths of virtue. That this was not
from a defect of feeling and passion, but that his mind being filled
with important objects, his passions were employed in more noble
pursuits than those of licentious pleasure. I saw from Paoli's example
the great art of preserving young men of spirit from the contagion of
vice, in which there is often a species of sentiment, ingenuity and
enterprise nearly allied to virtuous qualities.
Shew a young man that there is more real spirit in virtue than in vice,
and you have a surer hold of him, during his years of impetuosity and
passion, than by convincing his judgement of all the rectitude of
ethicks.
One day at dinner, he gave us the principal arguments for the being and
attributes of GOD. To hear these arguments repeated with graceful energy
by the illustrious Paoli in the midst of his heroick nobles, was
admirable. I never felt my mind more elevated.
I took occasion to mention the king of Prussia's infidel writings, and
in particular his epistle to Marischal Keith.[108] Paoli, who often
talks with admiration of the greatness of that monarch, instead of
uttering any direct censure of what he saw to be wrong in so
distinguished a hero, paused a little, and then said with a grave and
most expressive look, "C'est une belle consolation pour un vieux general
mourant, 'En peu de tems vous ne serez plus.' It is fine consolation for
an old general when dying, 'In a little while you shall be no more.'"
[Footnote 108: The younger brother of the Earl Marischal (see p. 140).
He took part in the rebellion of 1715, although he was but seventeen
years old. He next served for ten years in the Irish Brigade in the
Spanish army. He then entered the Russian service, and fought against
the Turks. He was sent to England as Russian ambassador. When he came to
Court he was required to speak by an interpreter when he had an audience
of the king, and to appear in Russian dress. He next entered the
Prussian service as Field-Marshal. He was killed in the battle of
Hochkirchen, in 1758.--ED.]
He observed that the Epicurean philosophy had produced but one exalted
character, whereas Stoicism had been the seminary of great men. What he
now said put me in mind of these noble lines of Lucan.
Hi mores, haec duri immota Catonis
Secta fuit, servare modum finemque tenere,
Naturamque sequi, patriaeque impendere vitam,
Nec sibi sed toti genitum se credere mundo.
LUCAN. Pharsal. lib. ii. l. 380.
These were the stricter manners of the man,
And this the stubborn course in which they ran;
The golden mean unchanging to pursue,
Constant to keep the purpos'd end in view;
Religiously to follow nature's laws,
And die with pleasure in his country's cause.
To think he was not for himself design'd,
But born to be of use to all mankind.
--ROWE.
When he was asked if he would quit the island of which he had undertaken
the protection, supposing a foreign power should create him a Marischal,
and make him governour of a province; he replied, "I hope they will
believe I am more honest, or more ambitious; for," said he, "to accept
of the highest offices under a foreign power would be to serve."
"To have been a colonel, a general or a marischal," said he, "would have
been sufficient for my table, for my taste in dress, for the beauty whom
my rank would have entitled me to attend. But it would not have been
sufficient for this spirit, for this imagination." Putting his hand
upon his bosom.
He reasoned one day in the midst of his nobles whether the commander of
a nation should be married or not. "If he is married," said he, "there
is a risk that he may be distracted by private affairs, and swayed too
much by a concern for his family. If he is unmarried, there is a risk
that not having the tender attachments of a wife and children, he may
sacrifice all to his own ambition." When I said he ought to marry and
have a son to succeed him, "Sir," said he, "what security can I have
that my son will think and act as I do? What sort of a son had Cicero,
and what had Marcus Aurelius?"
He said to me one day when we were alone, "I never will marry. I have
not the conjugal virtues. Nothing would tempt me to marry, but a woman
who should bring me an immense dowry, with which I might assist my
country."
But he spoke much in praise of marriage, as an institution which the
experience of ages had found to be the best calculated for the happiness
of individuals, and for the good of society. Had he been a private
gentleman, he probably would have married, and I am sure would have made
as good a husband and father as he does a supreme magistrate and a
general. But his arduous and critical situation would not allow him to
enjoy domestick felicity. He is wedded to his country, and the Corsicans
are his children.
He often talked to me of marriage, told me licentious pleasures were
delusive and transient, that I should never be truly happy till I was
married, and that he hoped to have a letter from me soon after my return
home, acquainting him that I had followed his advice, and was convinced
from experience that he was in the right. With such an engaging
condescension did this great man behave to me. If I could but paint his
manner, all my readers would be charmed with him.
He has a mind fitted for philosophical speculations as well as for
affairs of state. One evening at supper, he entertained us for some time
with some curious reveries and conjectures as to the nature of the
intelligence of beasts, with regard to which, he observed human
knowledge was as yet very imperfect. He in particular seemed fond of
inquiring into the language of the brute creation. He observed that
beasts fully communicate their ideas to each other, and that some of
them, such as dogs, can form several articulate sounds. In different
ages there have been people who pretended to understand the language of
birds and beasts. Perhaps, said Paoli, in a thousand years we may know
this as well as we know things which appeared much more difficult to be
known. I have often since this conversation indulged myself in such
reveries. If it were not liable to ridicule, I would say that an
acquaintance with the language of beasts would be a most agreeable
acquisition to man, as it would enlarge the circle of his social
intercourse.
On my return to Britain I was disappointed to find nothing upon this
subject in Doctour Gregory's[109] Comparative View of the State and
Faculties of Man with those of the Animal World, which was then just
published. My disappointment however was in a good measure made up by a
picture of society, drawn by that ingenious and worthy authour, which
may be well applied to the Corsicans. "There is a certain period in the
progress of society in which mankind appear to the greatest advantage.
In this period, they have the bodily powers, and all the animal
functions remaining in full vigour. They are bold, active, steady,
ardent in the love of liberty and their native country. Their manners
are simple, their social affections warm, and though they are greatly
influenced by the ties of blood, yet they are generous and hospitable to
strangers. Religion is universally regarded among them, though disguised
by a variety of superstitions."[110]
[Footnote 109: John Gregory, M.D., born 1724, Professor of the Practice
of Physic in Edinburgh. "It is stated that no less than sixteen members
of this family have held British Professorships, chiefly in the Scotch
Universities."--Chalmers' "Biog. Dict.," p. 289.--ED.]
[Footnote 110: Preface to "Comparative View," p. 8.]
Paoli was very desirous that I should study the character of the
Corsicans. "Go among them," said he, "the more you talk with them, you
will do me the greater pleasure. Forget the meanness of their apparel.
Hear their sentiments. You will find honour, and sense, and abilities
among these poor men."
His heart grew big when he spoke of his countrymen. His own great
qualities appeared to unusual advantage, while he described the virtues
of those for whose happiness his whole life was employed. "If," said he,
"I should lead into the field an army of Corsicans against an army
double their number, let me speak a few words to the Corsicans, to
remind them of the honour of their country and of their brave
forefathers, I do not say that they would conquer, but I am sure that
not a man of them would give way. The Corsicans," said he, "have a
steady resolution that would amaze you. I wish you could see one of them
die. It is a proverb among the Genoese, 'I Corsi meritano la furca e la
sanno soffrire. The Corsicans deserve the gallows, and they fear not to
meet it.' There is a real compliment to us in this saying."
He told me, that in Corsica, "criminals are put to death four and twenty
hours after sentence is pronounced against them. This," said he, "may
not be over catholick, but it is humane."
He went on, and gave me several instances of the Corsican spirit.
"A sergeant," said he, "who fell in one of our desperate actions, when
just a dying, wrote to me thus. 'I salute you. Take care of my aged
father. In two hours I shall be with the rest who have bravely died for
their country.'"
A Corsican gentleman who had been taken prisoner by the Genoese, was
thrown into a dark dungeon, where he was chained to the ground. While he
was in this dismal situation, the Genoese sent a message to him, that if
he would accept of a commission in their service, he might have it.
"No," said he. "Were I to accept of your offer, it would be with a
determined purpose to take the first opportunity of returning to the
service of my country. But I will not accept of it. For I would not have
my countrymen even suspect that I could be one moment unfaithful." And
he remained in his dungeon. Paoli went on: "I defy Rome, Sparta or
Thebes to shew me thirty years of such patriotism as Corsica can boast.
Though the affection between relations is exceedingly strong in the
Corsicans, they will give up their nearest relations for the good of
their country, and sacrifice such as have deserted to the Genoese."
He gave me a noble instance of a Corsican's feeling and greatness of
mind. "A criminal," said he, "was condemned to die. His nephew came to
me with a lady of distinction, that she might solicit his pardon. The
nephew's anxiety made him think that the lady did not speak with
sufficient force and earnestness. He therefore advanced, and addressed
himself to me, 'Sir, is it proper for me to speak?' as if he felt that
it was unlawful to make such an application. I bid him go on. 'Sir,'
said he, with the deepest concern, 'may I beg the life of my uncle? If
it is granted, his relations will make a gift to the state of a thousand
zechins. We will furnish fifty soldiers in pay during the siege of
Furiani. We will agree that my uncle shall be banished, and will engage
that he shall never return to the island.' I knew the nephew to be a man
of worth, and I answered him: 'You are acquainted with the circumstances
of this case. Such is my confidence in you, that if you will say that
giving your uncle a pardon would be just, useful or honourable for
Corsica, I promise you it shall be granted.' He turned about, burst into
tears, and left me, saying, 'Non vorrei vendere l'onore della patria per
mille zechini. I would not have the honour of our country sold for a
thousand zechins.' And his uncle suffered."
Although the General was one of the constituent members of the court of
syndicato,[111] he seldom took his chair. He remained in his own
apartment; and if any of those whose suits were determined by the
syndicato were not pleased with the sentence, they had an audience of
Paoli, who never failed to convince them that justice had been done
them. This appeared to me a necessary indulgence in the infancy of
government. The Corsicans having been so long in a state of anarchy,
could not all at once submit their minds to the regular authority of
justice. They would submit implicitly to Paoli, because they love and
venerate him. But such a submission is in reality being governed by
their passions. They submit to one for whom they have a personal regard.
They cannot be said to be perfectly civilized till they submit to the
determinations of their magistrates as officers of the state, entrusted
with the administration of justice. By convincing them that the
magistrates judge with abilities and uprightness, Paoli accustoms the
Corsicans to have that salutary confidence in their rulers, which is
necessary for securing respect and stability to the government.
[Footnote 111: See page 154.--ED.]
After having said much in praise of the Corsicans, "Come," said he, "you
shall have a proof of what I tell you. There is a crowd in the next
room, waiting for admittance to me. I will call in the first I see, and
you shall hear him." He who chanced to present himself, was a venerable
old man. The General shook him by the hand, and bid him good day, with
an easy kindness that gave the aged peasant full encouragement to talk
to his Excellency with freedom. Paoli bid him not mind me, but say on.
The old man then told him that there had been an unlucky tumult in the
village where he lived, and that two of his sons were killed. That
looking upon this as a heavy misfortune, but without malice on the part
of those who deprived him of his sons, he was willing to have allowed it
to pass without enquiry. But his wife anxious for revenge, had made an
application to have them apprehended and punished. That he gave his
Excellency this trouble to intreat that the greatest care might be
taken, lest in the heat of enmity among his neighbours, any body should
be punished as guilty of the blood of his sons, who was really innocent
of it. There was something so generous in this sentiment, while at the
same time the old man seemed full of grief for the loss of his children,
that it touched my heart in the most sensible manner. Paoli looked at me
with complacency and a kind of amiable triumph on the behaviour of the
old man, who had a flow of words and a vivacity of gesture which fully
justified what Petrus Cyrnaeus[112] hath said of the Corsican
eloquence; "Diceres omnes esse bonos causidicos. You would say they are
all good pleaders."
[Footnote 112: See Preface, page viii.--ED.]
I found Paoli had reason to wish that I should talk much with his
countrymen, as it gave me a higher opinion both of him and of them.
Thuanus[113] has justly said, "Sunt mobilia Corsorum ingenia. The
dispositions of the Corsicans are changeable." Yet after ten years,
their attachment to Paoli is as strong as at the first. Nay, they have
an enthusiastick admiration of him. "Questo grand' uomo mandato per Dio
a liberare la patria. This great man whom God hath sent to free our
country," was the manner in which they expressed themselves to me
concerning him.
[Footnote 113: Jacques-Auguste de Thou (or, as he called himself in
Latin, Jacobus Augustus Thuanus), born in Paris 1553. Author of
"Historia sui Temporis," in 138 books.--ED.]