Born 1757.--Died 1820.
This traveller, who is very justly enumerated among the most
distinguished which France has produced, was born on the 3d of
February, 1757, at Craon, in Anjou. His father, an able provincial
barrister, was unwilling that he should bear the name of _Chassebœuf_
(ox or bull hunter), which in his own case had been, though we are
not told how, a source of a thousand uneasinesses, and therefore gave
his son the name of Boisgirais, under which appellation our traveller
studied at the colleges of Ancenis and Angers, and was at first known
in the world. At a later period, just as he was about to depart for the
East, he quitted the name of Boisgirais, and assumed that of Volney,
which he was shortly after to render so celebrated.
Becoming his own master at the age of seventeen, with a small
independence bequeathed him by his mother, he quitted the country for
Paris, where he applied himself to the study of the severer sciences.
Volney felt no inclination for the profession of a barrister, which
it was his father’s desire he should follow; physic appeared to have
greater charms for him, and he at first seemed disposed to adopt this
as his profession; but his speculative turn of mind soon led him to
look with disdain on its practical part. Scarcely had he reached his
twentieth year when he entered with enthusiasm into the study of the
science of nature, delighting to discover the relations which subsist
between the moral and the physical world. He moreover devoted a
portion of his time to the study of the history and languages of
antiquity.
When he had made these preparations, apparently without foreseeing to
what use he should apply them, a small inheritance which fell to him
put him in possession of two hundred and forty pounds. “The difficulty
was,” he observes, “how to employ it. Some of my friends advised me to
enjoy the capital, others to purchase an annuity; but, on reflection,
I thought the sum too inconsiderable to make any sensible addition to
my income, and too great to be dissipated in frivolous expenses. Some
fortunate circumstances had habituated me to study; I had acquired a
taste, and even a passion, for knowledge; and this accession of fortune
appeared to me a fresh means of gratifying my inclination, and opening
a new way to improvement. I had read, and frequently heard repeated,
that of all the methods of adorning the mind and forming the judgment,
travelling is the most efficacious. I determined, therefore, on a plan
of travelling; but to what part of the world I should direct my course
remained still to be chosen. I wished the scene of my observations to
be new, or at least brilliant. My own country and the neighbouring
nations seemed to me either too well known or too easy of access;
the rising States of America and the savages were not without their
temptations; but other considerations determined me in favour of Asia.
Syria especially, and Egypt, both with a view of what they once have
been, and what they now are, appeared to me a field equally adapted to
those political and moral observations with which I wished to occupy my
mind.”
Foreseeing the fatigues and dangers of such a journey, he occupied a
whole year in preparing himself to undertake it, by accustoming his
body to the most violent exercises and the most painful privations.
At length, all his preparatory arrangements being completed, he
commenced his journey on foot, with a knapsack on his back, a musket
on his shoulder, and two hundred and forty pounds in gold concealed in
his girdle. “When I set out from Marseilles in 1783,” says he, “it was
with all my heart; with that alacrity, that confidence in others and
in myself which youth inspires. I gayly quitted a country of peace and
abundance to live in a country of barbarism and misery, from no other
motive than to employ the active and restless moments of youth, to
acquire a new kind of knowledge, which might procure for the remainder
of my days a certain portion of reputation and honour.”
On arriving in Egypt he proceeded to Cairo, where he remained during
seven months; after which, finding that there existed too many
obstacles to a proper examination of the interior parts of the country,
and that too little assistance in learning Arabic was to be obtained,
he determined on travelling into Syria. M. Durozoir, the author of the
Life of Volney, in the “Biographie Universelle,” to which I am greatly
indebted, falls into a most unaccountable error in narrating this part
of our traveller’s career. According to him, Volney had no sooner
arrived in Egypt than he shut himself up in a Coptic convent, where
he remained _eight months_, for the purpose of acquiring the Arabic;
after which he traversed the country with more advantages than any
other traveller had hitherto enjoyed. Volney himself asserts, on the
contrary, that he resided but _seven months_ in the country; that he
was prevented by obstacles which appeared to him insurmountable from
traversing more than a very small portion of Egypt; that he did not
acquire a competent knowledge of Arabic until he arrived in Syria,
where (and not in Egypt) he shut himself up during eight months in an
Arabian convent, in order to render himself master of the language.
M. Durozoir must have forgotten Pococke, and Shaw, and Hasselquist,
and Niebuhr and Bruce, every one of whom were superior in external
_advantages_ to Volney, and probably understood the language of the
country better than he did previous to his residence in Syria. It is
surprising, therefore, to find a writer of respectable name speaking
of the advantages which Volney possessed over all preceding travellers
in Egypt, arising from his long residence and knowledge, while most of
his predecessors saw ten times more of the country, enjoyed greater
privileges, and possessed a more intimate knowledge of Arabic. The
real advantage which Volney actually did possess over the majority of
Egyptian travellers consisted in his superior genius, which enabled him
to turn his short experience to good account, and to comprehend the
meanings of things which thousands had seen without comprehending at
all.
The mode in which Volney has given the results of his travels to
the public precludes the possibility of our following his track. He
sedulously avoids, as Daru has justly remarked, placing himself upon
the stage, and neither tells you by what route he travelled through
the country, nor what were the impressions which the sight of certain
objects produced upon his mind. The fact must be admitted, whether
it make for or against the author; but when the count proceeds to
inform us, in his inflated rhetorical style, that the traveller is
suddenly transformed into a native of the country, who, after mature
observation, describes its physical, political, and moral condition, we
smile at his boyish enthusiasm.
I cannot help regretting, however, that our traveller should have
omitted to trace his route through Egypt, not only because his having
done so would have been advantageous to me, but from a persuasion
that the omission has been seriously injurious to his popularity. It
is, moreover, a very great error, and one in which I myself formerly
participated, to imagine that a traveller is more likely to impart
just notions of the scene of his researches by giving the results only
of his experience, suppressing the manner in which that experience
was obtained. An attentive examination of the works of travellers of
all ages and countries has at length created a contrary conviction
in my mind. In a judicious personal narrative the traveller is but
one interlocutor in a drama exhibiting innumerable characters and a
perpetually changing scene. You in some sort behold him surrounded by
strangers in a strange land; you observe them not, and hear them, as it
were, converse together; and if the traveller himself sometimes feigns
or walks in masquerade, it is rarely that the natives can be supposed
to have sufficiently powerful motives for so doing. They exhibit
themselves exactly as they are. It would seem to follow from this view
of the case, that whatever its advantages in other respects may be, the
method adopted by Volney is liable, on the grounds above stated, to
very serious objections. It not only shuts out the traveller from our
view, but, in lieu of an animated picture, presents us with reasoning
and discussion, able, I admit, and frequently original, but wanting
that irresistible charm which is possessed in so eminent a degree by
beautiful narrative.
Having examined such objects of curiosity in Lower Egypt as could
easily be viewed, and collected ample materials for the defence of
Herodotus, the greatest traveller of all antiquity, from the attacks
of conceited and ignorant persons, Volney passed into Syria. “Here,”
he observes, “eight months’ residence among the Druses, in an Arabian
convent, rendered the Arabic familiar to me, and enabled me to travel
through all Syria during a whole year.” His long residence in the
mountains of Syria, during which he no doubt undertook numerous little
excursions in various directions, furnished him with materials for a
correct picture of the scene. This he has drawn with equal vigour
and beauty. “Lebanon,” says he, “which gives its name to the whole
extensive chain of the Kesraouan, and the country of the Druses,
presents us everywhere with majestic mountains. At every step we
meet with scenes in which nature displays either beauty or grandeur;
sometimes singularity, but always variety. When we land on the coast,
the loftiness and steep ascent of this mountainous ridge, which seems
to enclose the country, those gigantic masses which shoot into the
clouds, inspire astonishment and awe. Should the curious traveller then
climb these summits which bound his view, the wide extended place which
he discovers becomes a fresh subject of admiration; but completely to
enjoy this majestic scene, he must ascend the very point of Lebanon,
or the Sannia. There on every side he will view a horizon without
bounds; while in clear weather the sight is lost over the desert, which
extends to the Persian Gulf, and over the sea, which bathes the coasts
of Europe. He seems to command the whole world, while the wandering
eye, now surveying the successive chains of mountains, transports
the imagination in an instant from Antioch to Jerusalem, and now
approaching the surrounding objects, observes the distant profundity of
the coast, till the attention, at length, fixed by distinctive objects,
more minutely examines the rocks, woods, torrents, hillsides, villages,
and towns; and the mind secretly exults at the diminution of things
which before appeared so great. He contemplates the valley obscured by
stormy clouds with a novel delight; and smiles at hearing the thunder,
which had so often burst over his head, growling under his feet, while
the threatening summits of the mountains are diminished till they
appear only like the furrows of a ploughed field, or the steps of an
amphitheatre; and he feels himself flattered by an elevation above so
many great objects on which pride makes him look down with a secret
satisfaction. When the traveller visits the interior parts of these
mountains, the ruggedness of the roads, the steepness of the descents,
the height of the precipices, strike him at first with terror, but the
sagacity of his mule soon relieves him, and he examines at his ease
those picturesque scenes which succeed each other to entertain him.
There, as in the Alps, he travels whole days to reach a place that
was in sight at his departure: he winds, he descends, he skirts the
hills, he climbs; and in this perpetual change of position it seems as
if some magic power varied for him at every step the decorations of
the scenery. Sometimes he sees villages ready to glide from the steep
declivities on which they are built, and so disposed, that the terraces
of one row of houses serve as a street to the row above them. Sometimes
he sees a convent standing on a solitary eminence, like Mar-shaya in
the valley of the Tigris. Here is a rock perforated by a torrent, and
become a natural arch, like that of Nahr-el-Leben. There another rock,
worn perpendicular, resembles a lofty wall.”
The same difficulty of tracing the footsteps of our traveller of
which I complained when speaking of his Egyptian journey occurs again
in Syria. It is, in fact, impossible to discover from his works any
particulars, excepting a few dates, which are perfectly unimportant.
After a protracted residence at the convent of Mar-hanna, or “St.
John,” where, as already observed, he matured his knowledge of Arabic,
he descended into the lower districts, and visited a Bedouin camp,
near Gaza, where he remained several days. I know not whether it was
upon this or on some other occasion that he so far recommended himself
to the chief of a tribe by his agreeable manners, as to inspire in
the Arabs a desire to retain him among them. Having remarked that the
Bedouins enjoy an extraordinary freedom from religious prejudices,
and are consequently disposed to be tolerant, he adds, “Nothing can
better describe, or be a more satisfactory proof of this, than a
dialogue which one day passed between myself and one of their sheïkhs,
named Ahmed, son of Bahir, chief of the tribe of Wahidia. ‘Why,’ said
this sheïkh to me, ‘do you wish to return among the Franks? Since you
have no aversion to our manners, since you know how to use the lance
and manage a horse like a Bedouin, stay among us. We will give you
pelisses, a tent, a virtuous and young Bedouin girl, and a good blood
mare. You shall live in our house.’--‘But do you not know,’ said I,
‘that, born among the Franks, I have been educated in their religion?
In what light will the Arabs view an infidel, or what will they think
of an apostate?’--‘And do you not yourself perceive,’ said he, ‘that
the Arabs live without troubling themselves either about the prophet,
or the _Book_ (the Koran)? Every man with us follows the dictates of
his conscience. Men have a right to judge of actions, but religion must
be left to God alone.’ Another sheïkh, conversing with me one day,
addressed me, by mistake, in the customary formulary, ‘Listen, and
pray for the prophet.’ Instead of the usual answer, _I have prayed_,
I replied with a smile, ‘_I listen_.’ He recollected his error, and
smiled in his turn. A Turk of Jerusalem who was present took the matter
up more seriously: ‘O sheïkh,’ said he, ‘how canst thou address the
words of the true believers to an infidel?’--‘The tongue is _light_;’
replied the sheïkh, ‘let but the heart be _white_ (pure); but you who
know the customs of the Arabs, how can you offend a stranger, with whom
we have eaten bread and salt?’ Then, turning to me, ‘All those tribes
of Frankestan, of whom you told me that they follow not the law of the
prophet, are they more numerous than the Mussulmans?’--‘It is thought,’
answered I, ‘that they are five or six times more numerous, even
including the Arabs.’--‘God is just,’ returned he; ‘he will weigh them
in his balance.’”
The most singular people, however, who came under the observation of
Volney during his eastern travels, were unquestionably the Druses.
Extraordinary stories respecting their origin and manners had from
time to time prevailed in Europe. By some they were supposed to be
the descendants of the crusaders, particularly of the English; others
attributed to them a different origin; but all agreed in accusing them
of believing in strange absurd dogmas, and of practising monstrous
rites. At length he obtained from oriental writers the following
account of the rise of this remarkable sect. In the year of the
Hegira 386 (A. D. 996) the third calif of the race of the Fatimites,
called Hakem-b’amr-ellah, succeeded to the throne of Egypt, at the
age of eleven years. He was one of the most extraordinary princes of
whom history has preserved the memory. He caused the first calif,
the companion of Mahomet, to be cursed in the mosques, and afterward
revoked the anathema. He compelled the Jews and Christians to abjure
their religion, and then permitted them to resume it. He prohibited
the making slippers for women, to prevent their coming out of their
houses. He burnt one-half of the city of Cairo for his diversion, while
his soldiers pillaged the other. Not content with these extravagant
actions, he forbade the pilgrimage to Mecca, fasting, and the five
prayers; and at length carried his madness so far, as to desire to pass
for God himself. He ordered a register of those who acknowledged him
to be so; and the number amounted to sixteen thousand. This impious
pretension was supported by a false prophet, who came from Persia
into Egypt; which impostor, named Mohammed-ben-Ismael, taught that it
was not necessary to fast or pray, to practise circumcision, to make
the pilgrimage to Mecca, or observe festivals; that the prohibition
of pork and wine was absurd; and that marriage between brothers and
sisters, fathers and children, was lawful. To ingratiate himself
with Hakem, he maintained that this calif was God himself incarnate,
and instead of his name being _Hakem-b’amr-ellah_, which signifies
governing by the order of God, he called him _Hakem-b’amr-eh_,
governing by his own order. Unluckily for the prophet, his god had
not the power to protect him from the fury of his enemies, who slew
him in a tumult, almost in the arms of the calif, who was himself
massacred soon after on Mount Mokattam, where he, as he said, had held
conversation with angels. The death of these two chiefs did not prevent
the progress of their opinions: a disciple of Mohammed-ben-Ismael,
named Hamzaben-Ahmud, propagated them with indefatigable zeal, in
Egypt, in Palestine, and along the coast of Syria, as far as Sidon
and Berytus. His proselytes, it seems, underwent the same fate as the
Maronites; for being persecuted by the sect in power, they took refuge
in the mountains of Lebanon, where they were better able to defend
themselves; at least it is certain, that shortly after this era we find
them established there, and forming an independent society like their
neighbours.
In the opinion of Volney the great body of the Druses are wholly
destitute of religion; “yet,” says he, “one class of them must be
excepted, whose religious customs are very peculiar. Those who compose
it are to the rest of the nation what the _initiated_ are to the
_profane_; they assume the name of Okkals, which means spiritualists;
and bestow on the vulgar the epithet Djahel, or ignorant; they have
various degrees of initiation, the highest orders of which require
celibacy. These are distinguishable by the white turban they affect
to wear, as a symbol of their purity; and so proud are they of this
supposed purity, that they think themselves sullied by even touching
a profane person. If you eat out of their plate, or drink out of their
cup, they break them; and hence the custom so general in this country,
of using vases with a sort of cock, which may be drunk out of without
touching the lips. All their practices are enveloped in mysteries.
Their oratories always stand alone, and are constantly situated on
eminences: in these they hold their secret assemblies, to which
women are admitted. It is pretended they perform ceremonies there in
presence of a small statue resembling an ox or a calf; whence some have
pretended to prove that they are descended from the Samaritans. But,
besides that the fact is not well ascertained, the worship of the ox
may be deduced from other circumstances.
“They have one or two books which they conceal with the greatest care,
but chance has deceived their jealousy; for, in a civil war, which
happened six or seven years ago, the Emir Yousef, who is _Djahel_,
or ignorant, found one among the pillage of their oratories. I am
assured by persons who have read it, that it contains only a mystic
jargon, the obscurity of which doubtless renders it valuable to adepts.
Hakem-b’amr-ellah is there spoken of, by whom they mean God, incarnated
in the person of the calif. It likewise treats of another life, of
a place of punishment and a place of happiness, where the Okkals
shall of course be most distinguished. Several degrees of perfection
are mentioned, to which they arrive by successive trials. In other
respects these sectaries have all the insolence and all the fears of
superstition: they are not communicative, because they are weak; but it
is probable that, were they powerful, they would be promulgators and
intolerant.”
On returning to France after an absence of nearly three years (which
M. Durozoir, who loves to differ with the traveller upon such points,
will have to be nearly _four years_), Volney employed himself in
preparing his “Travels” for the press. Upon the appearance of the work
the public, which is seldom in the wrong in such matters, received it
as a masterpiece of its kind; and from that time to the present its
reputation may be said to be on the increase. I am averse from adopting
the unmeaning or exaggerated panegyrics of his French biographers, who
are satisfied with nothing short of regarding Volney as the continuator
of Herodotus, with whom they seem to consider him upon a par. No
person can be more desirous than myself to enhance the just praises
of Volney, who has exhibited, in his description of Syria and Egypt,
remarkable force and depth of thinking, and powers of delineation of
no ordinary class. But in Herodotus we have a picture of the whole
world, as far, at least, as it was known in his time, sketched with
inimitable truth and brevity, and adorned with a splendour of colouring
which with matchless skill he has known how to unite with the severest
accuracy. To many of the excellences of this writer Volney has no
pretensions. Others he may have possessed in an equal degree; but I
will not continue a comparison in itself absurd, never dreamed of by
the traveller himself, and which could only have suggested itself to
writers blinded by national vanity.
To proceed, however, with the events of our traveller’s life. No sooner
had the travels appeared, than the Empress Catherine II., who, besides
her desire to wheedle every writer of distinction in Europe, was
really actuated by an admiration for genius, sent him a gold medal in
token of her satisfaction. This was in the year 1787. In the following
year he published his “Considerations on the War between the Turks
and Russians.” In this political pamphlet the knowledge which he had
acquired in his travels was of course the basis of his reasoning; but
he had likewise received, perhaps from the Russian court, information
which would appear to have been correct, respecting the resources of
the Scythians; for events, says his French biographer with a kind
of triumph, have realized nearly all his predictions. He did not,
continues the same writer, forget, in the consideration of this great
quarrel, the interests of France, and dwelt more particularly on
the project of seizing upon Egypt, in order to counterbalance the
aggrandizement of Russia and Austria. But to the execution of this
project he foresaw numerous obstacles. “In the first place,” said
he, “it will be necessary to maintain three separate wars: the first
against Turkey, the second against the English, and a third against
the natives of Egypt, which, though apparently the least formidable,
will be the most dangerous of the three. Should the Franks venture to
disembark in the country, Turks, Arabs, and peasants would all arm
against them at once: and fanaticism would serve them instead of art
and courage.”
From the period of his return into his country, being actuated by the
desire of being useful, which seems to have been ever predominant in
his mind, though it did not always manifest itself in a rational way,
Volney conceived the idea of introducing improvements in agriculture in
the island of Corsica. For this purpose he began to concert measures
for purchasing an estate in that island, on which he meant to make
several experiments in the culture of the sugar-cane, cotton, indigo,
coffee, &c. The utility of these schemes induced the French government
to nominate him Director of Agriculture and Commerce in Corsica; but
other duties retained him in his country. Upon the convocation of the
States General in 1789, he was elected deputy for the seneschalship
of Anjou. Shortly after this he resigned the place he held under
government, being persuaded that the duties of a representative of the
people, and those of a dependant on the government, are incompatible.
In the tribune of the Constituent Assembly Volney advocated the same
opinions which are found in his writings. He was the declared enemy
of despotism, whether exercised by one individual or by many; and
constantly distinguished himself by his bold and liberal advocacy of
popular rights. His intimate connexion with Cabanis, celebrated for
the extravagance of his metaphysical opinions, frequently brought him
into contact with Mirabeau, the Catiline of the revolution. This able
improvisator, equally indifferent respecting the _meum_ and _tuum_ in
ideas as in money, in a discussion concerning the clergy, borrowed from
Volney his well-known rhetorical flourish _on the window of Charles
IX._, from whence that gracious monarch amused himself with shooting
at his subjects. Twenty deputies were besieging the tribune, and among
these was Volney, who held a written discourse in his hand. “Show
me what you are going to say,” said Mirabeau. “This is beautiful,
sublime,” he exclaimed, after having glanced over the manuscript;
“but it is not with a feeble voice and a clear countenance that such
things should be uttered. Give the manuscript to me!” Such consummate
arrogance was not to be resisted. Volney yielded up his speech to the
audacious sophist, who, melting up our traveller’s original ideas
with his own, poured out the whole with that artificial theatrical
enthusiasm which produces upon inexperienced minds nearly the same
effects as eloquence. It is said that Volney ere long began to perceive
that the storm which had been raised with so much labour and artifice
was likely to sweep away in its fury much more than was intended; and
that he then began to think of moderating its rage. But if he was in
earnest in his opposition, he very quickly had the mortification to
discover that his efforts were futile; that revolution had, in fact,
become a general movement, which bore down with irresistible violence
every obstacle which might be opposed to it, whether by friends or foes.
In the midst of these political labours Volney found time to produce
two works of very different character and pretensions: “The Chronology
of the Twelve Centuries preceding the Invasion of Greece by Xerxes,”
and his well-known rhapsody called the “Ruins.” Shortly after this,
the Empress Catherine, who found that she had been made the dupe of
the French sophists, declared herself the enemy of France; upon which
Volney, eager to display his contempt for his fickle admirer, returned
the medal which she had formerly presented to him. Upon this, Grimm,
the literary gladiator of the empress, and up to that moment the friend
of Volney, addressed him a letter filled with the most biting sarcasms
and unjust personalities, but written in so keen a style that it has
been attributed to Rivarol, another clever advocate of ancient abuses.
In 1792 Volney accompanied Pozzo di Borgo to Corsica, with his old
design of making agricultural experiments. He accordingly purchased
the estate of La Confina, near Ajaccio, and was proceeding to realize
some of his useful plans, when he was driven from the island by the
troubles excited by Pascal Paoli, who sold his estate by auction,
notwithstanding that he had recently given him various assurances
of friendship. During his residence in Corsica our traveller became
acquainted with Napoleon, who was at that time only an officer of
artillery. He is said to have divined the character of this ambitious
man from the first; and some years later, upon learning in America that
Napoleon had been appointed commander of the army of Italy, he remarked
to several French refugees, “Provided that circumstances second him,
he will be found to possess the head of Cæsar on the shoulders of
Alexander.” This oracular saying, which is by no means the best thing
of the kind attributed to our traveller, is remarkable merely for the
pomposity of the expression, and signifies little or nothing, except
that Napoleon was as able as he was ambitious. On his return to France,
in 1793, he published a “Sketch of the State of Corsica,” and the
“Law of Nature,” the latter of which M. Durozoir, with characteristic
exaggeration, pronounces to be “one of the best treatises on morals
which have ever been published in any language.” The “Law of Nature” is
well known in England, and proves its writer to have been a man of an
acute and vigorous mind, as well as an accomplished master of style;
but it would be paying Volney an absurd compliment to place his little
catechism, in which there are no ideas absolutely new, on a level with
the “Ethics to Nichomachus,” or the great work of Panætius, of which
we may form a tolerably clear conception from the “De Officiis” of
Cicero, which is little more than a copy of it. Moreover, in the “Law
of Nature,” man is considered too much in a material, and too little in
a spiritual light; which, though it may be a merit in the eyes of such
a writer as M. Durozoir, must to a person of a different creed appear
to be a very remarkable defect. Considering the question merely in a
philosophical point of view, it can, I think, admit of no dispute that
the incentives to good actions can never be too numerous; but Volney,
from his peculiar notions, could only speak of morals as of physical
science, which, taken as a whole, it certainly is not. Whatever merit
this little tract may possess, therefore, it seems to be essentially
defective in attributing to one set of principles effects which they
never produce unless in combination with others.
In 1793 our traveller, whose political opinions were purely republican,
was imprisoned ten months as a _royalist_, and only recovered his
liberty after the events of the 9th of Thermidor. To console him in
some degree for this injustice, he was shortly afterward appointed
historical professor in the Normal School, which had just then been
established by the friends of order and of their country. Volney was
eminently well qualified to shine in this capacity. His reading,
which was immense, had lain much, if not chiefly, among historical
writers; and his calm, penetrating genius enabled him to discover with
extraordinary precision the natural chain of events. Nevertheless,
from a passion for vain paradox, which has of late been but too common
both in France and Germany among persons who would be thought to be
philosophers, he unfortunately exhibited in his historical researches
a degree of skepticism highly absurd. He had perhaps read and admired
the startling proposition of Aristotle, that doubt is the foundation of
all science; but if doubt eternally generate doubt, upon what basis are
the sciences to be erected? The Greek philosopher, I conceive, merely
intends to say, that without doubt there can be no inquiry, and without
inquiry no science. However, notwithstanding this radical defect,
Volney’s lectures at the Normal School were received with applause,
principally perhaps from the striking originality of the author’s
style, and the novelty of his views. Truths long and familiarly known,
appear to lose their beauty, and are eagerly exchanged for errors,
tricked out in all the dazzling gloss of novelty.
His oratorical career was not of long duration. The Normal School was
quickly suppressed; and Volney, disgusted and fatigued with fruitless
endeavours to benefit his country, determined on deserting it for ever,
and seeking in the New World that tranquillity which he had failed to
find in the Old. On his arrival in the United States of America, in
1795, he was well received by Washington, who gave him many public
marks of his confidence and friendship. It is said, however, though I
know not upon what grounds, that John Adams, elected president in 1797,
entertained feelings highly inimical to Volney, who, a short time
before, had criticised severely, perhaps unjustly, his “Defence of the
Constitutions of the United States.” It is even insinuated by Durozoir,
whose unsupported testimony I should, however, refuse to accept in a
matter of this kind, that our traveller was driven from America by the
unmanly revenge of John Adams in the spring of 1798. Be this as it may,
he was suspected by the Americans of being engaged in a conspiracy
for delivering up Louisiana to the Directory; while in France, on the
other hand, he was accused of having asserted that Louisiana could
never become an advantageous possession of the French republic. While
his mind was thus harassed by contradictory and absurd suspicions, Dr.
Priestley published his “Observations on the Progress of Infidelity,”
&c., in which Volney, says Durozoir, who probably had no more read
Priestley’s pamphlet than I have, was denounced as an “atheist, an
ignoramus, a Chinese, and a Hottentot.” Priestley was no doubt a rough
polemic, too much addicted, perhaps, to hard names; but the work which
he denounced had, in many respects, a highly mischievous tendency, and
in refuting it some degree of warmth was pardonable.
On our traveller’s return to France, where he had been elected a member
of the Institute during his absence, he became once more intimately
connected with Napoleon, whom, in 1794, he had dissuaded from seeking
military employment in Turkey or Russia, and by his influence caused
to be restored to his rank in the army. Napoleon was not ungrateful,
and when elected to the consulate was desirous of naming Volney his
colleague. This dignity, however, the traveller refused, as well as
that of minister of the interior, which was soon afterward offered
him. He was content with the mere rank of senator. When at a future
period Napoleon was about to assume the title of emperor, Volney
ventured to oppose him, observing that _it were better to restore the
Bourbons_. From this time forward he was invariably found among that
small minority in the senate who condemned and opposed the despotic
measures of the emperor; yet he allowed himself to be decorated with
the rank of count, and the title of commandant of the Legion of Honour.
Still he took little share in political matters, preferring before all
distinctions retirement and study.
In 1803 appeared his “Description of the Climate and Soil of the United
States,” a work possessing, no doubt, considerable merit, but which
has been far from obtaining equal success with his “Eastern Travels.”
He now resumed his chronological studies, which had been for some time
interrupted. In these he gave vent to all his heterodox opinions,
which it could answer no good purpose either to retail or refute in
this place. Others, more deeply versed than I in the chronology of the
world, have performed this task; which was not, however, extremely
necessary, as Volney’s labours on this subject seem designed never
to acquire popularity. In 1810 he married Mademoiselle Chassebœuf,
his cousin, for whose amusement he purchased a large mansion, with
extensive gardens, &c., in the Rue Vaugirard. Here he lived in a kind
of morose and misanthropic retirement, heightened, if not caused, by
his gloomy and unhappy opinions; and here he died, on the 25th of
April, 1820, in the sixty-third year of his age.