* The Executive Council is composed of men who, if ever they were

well-intentioned, must be totally unfit for the government of an

extensive republic. Monge, the Minister of the Marine, is a

professor of geometry; Garat, Minister of Justice, a gazette writer;

Le Brun, Minister of Foreign Affairs, ditto; and Pache, Minister of

the Interior, a private tutor.--Whoever reads the debates of the

Convention will find few indications of real talents, and much

pedantry and ignorance. For example, Anacharsis Cloots, who is a

member of the Committee of Public Instruction, and who one should,

of course, expect not to be more ignorant than his colleagues, has

lately advised them to distress the enemy by invading Scotland,

which he calls the granary of England.

France had not yet determined on the articles of her future political

creed, when agents were dispatched to make proselytes in England, and, in

proportion as she assumed a more popular form of government, all the

qualities which have ever marked her as the disturber of mankind seem to

have acquired new force. Every where the ambassadors of the republic are

accused of attempts to excite revolt and discontent, and England* is now

forced into a war because she could not be persuaded to an insurrection.

* For some time previous to the war, all the French prints and even

members of the Convention, in their debates, announced England to be

on the point of an insurrection. The intrigues of Chauvelin, their

ambassador, to verify this prediction, are well known. Brissot, Le

Brun, &c. who have since been executed, were particularly charged by

the adverse party with provoking the war with England. Robespierre,

and those who succeeded, were not so desirous of involving us in a

foreign war, and their humane efforts were directed merely to excite

a civil one.--The third article of accusation against Rolland is,

having sent twelve millions of livres to England, to assist in

procuring a declaration of war.

Perhaps it may be said, that the French have taken this part only for

their own security, and to procure adherents to the common cause; but

this is all I contend for--that the politics of the old government

actuate the new, and that they have not, in abolishing courts and

royalty, abolished the perfidious system of endeavouring to benefit

themselves, by creating distress and dissention among their neighbours.--

Louvois supplied the Protestants in the Low Countries with money, while

he persecuted them in France. The agents of the republic, more

oeconomical, yet directed by the same motives, eke out corruption by

precepts of sedition, and arm the leaders of revolt with the rights of

man; but, forgetting the maxim that charity should begin at home, in

their zeal for the freedom of other countries, they leave no portion of

it for their own!

Louis the Fourteenth over-ran Holland and the Palatinate to plant the

white flag, and lay the inhabitants under contribution--the republic send

an army to plant the tree of liberty, levy a _don patriotique,_

[Patriotic gift.] and place garrisons in the towns, in order to preserve

their freedom.--Kings have violated treaties from the desire of conquest

--these virtuous republicans do it from the desire of plunder; and,

previous to opening the Scheldt, the invasion of Holland, was proposed as

a means of paying the expences of the war. I have never heard that even

the most ambitious Potentates ever pretended to extend their subjugation

beyond the persons and property of the conquered; but these militant

dogmatists claim an empire even over opinions, and insist that no people

can be free or happy unless they regulate their ideas of freedom and

happiness by the variable standard of the Jacobin club. Far from being

of Hudibras's philosophy,* they seem to think the mind as tangible as the

body, and that, with the assistance of an army, they may as soon lay one

"by the heels" as the other.

* "Quoth he, one half of man, his mind,

"Is, sui juris, unconfin'd,

"And ne'er can be laid by the heels,

"Whate'er the other moiety feels."

Hudibras.

Now this I conceive to be the worst of all tyrannies, nor have I seen it

exceeded on the French theatre, though, within the last year, the

imagination of their poets has been peculiarly ingenious and inventive on

this subject.--It is absurd to suppose this vain and overbearing

disposition will cease when the French government is settled. The

intrigues of the popular party began in England the very moment they

attained power, and long before there was any reason to suspect that the

English would deviate from their plan of neutrality. If, then, the

French cannot restrain this mischievous spirit while their own affairs

are sufficient to occupy their utmost attention, it is natural to

conclude, that, should they once become established, leisure and peace

will make them dangerous to the tranquillity of all Europe. Other

governments may be improved by time, but republics always degenerate; and

if that which is in its original state of perfection exhibit already the

maturity of vice, one cannot, without being more credulous than

reasonable, hope any thing better for the future than what we have

experienced from the past.--It is, indeed, unnecessary to detain you

longer on this subject. You must, ere now, be perfectly convinced how

far the revolutionary systems of France are favourable to the peace and

happiness of other countries. I will only add a few details which may

assist you in judging of what advantage they have been to the French

themselves, and whether, in changing the form of their government, they

have amended its principles; or if, in "conquering liberty," (as they

express it,) they have really become free.

The situation of France has altered much within the last two months: the

seat of power is less fluctuating and the exercise of it more absolute--

arbitrary measures are no longer incidental, but systematic--and a

regular connection of dependent tyranny is established, beginning with

the Jacobin clubs, and ending with the committees of the sections. A

simple decree for instance, has put all the men in the republic,

(unmarried and without children,) from eighteen to forty-five at the

requisition of the Minister of War. A levy of three hundred thousand is

to take place immediately: each department is responsible for the whole

of a certain number to the Convention, the districts are answerable for

their quota to the departments, the municipalities to the district, and

the diligence of the whole is animated by itinerant members of the

legislature, entrusted with the disposal of an armed force. The latter

circumstance may seem to you incredible; yet is it nevertheless true,

that most of the departments are under the jurisdiction of these

sovereigns, whose authority is nearly unlimited. We have, at this

moment, two Deputies in the town, who arrest and imprison at their

pleasure. One-and-twenty inhabitants of Amiens were seized a few nights

ago, without any specific charge having been exhibited against them, and

are still in confinement. The gates of the town are shut, and no one is

permitted to pass or repass without an order from the municipality; and

the observance of this is exacted even of those who reside in the

suburbs. Farmers and country people, who are on horseback, are obliged

to have the features and complexion of their horses minuted on the

passport with their own. Every person whom it is found convenient to

call suspicious, is deprived of his arms; and private houses are

disturbed during the night, (in opposition to a positive law,) under

pretext of searching for refractory priests.--These regulations are not

peculiar to this department, and you must understand them as conveying a

general idea of what passes in every part of France.--I have yet to add,

that letters are opened with impunity--that immense sums of assignats are

created at the will of the Convention--that no one is excused mounting

guard in person--and that all housekeepers, and even lodgers, are

burthened with the quartering of troops, sometimes as many as eight or

ten, for weeks together.

You may now, I think, form a tolerable idea of the liberty that has

accrued to the French from the revolution, the dethronement of the King,

and the establishment of a republic. But, though the French suffer this

despotism without daring to murmur openly, many a significant shrug and

doleful whisper pass in secret, and this political discontent has even

its appropriate language, which, though not very explicit, is perfectly

understood.--Thus when you hear one man say to another, _"Ah, mon Dieu,

on est bien malheureux dans ce moment ici;"_ or, _"Nous sommes dans une

position tres critique--Je voudrois bien voir la fin de tout cela;"_

["God knows, we are very miserable at present--we are in a very critical

situation--I should like to see an end of all this."] you may be sure he

languishes for the restoration of the monarchy, and hopes with equal

fervor, that he may live to see the Convention hanged. In these sort of

conferences, however, evaporates all their courage. They own their

country is undone, that they are governed by a set of brigands, go home

and hide any set of valuables they have not already secreted, and receive

with obsequious complaisance the next visite domiciliaire.

The mass of the people, with as little energy, have more obstinacy, and

are, of course, not quite so tractable. But, though they grumble and

procrastinate, they do not resist; and their delays and demurs usually

terminate in implicit submission.

The Deputy-commissioners, whom I have mentioned above, have been at

Amiens some time, in order to promote the levying of recruits. On

Sundays and holidays they summoned the inhabitants to attend at the

cathedral, where they harangued them on the subject, called for vengeance

on the coalesced despots, expatiated on the love of glory, and insisted

on the pleasure of dying for one's country: while the people listened

with vacant attention, amused themselves with the paintings, or adjourned

in small committees to discuss the hardship of being obliged to fight

without inclination.--Thus time elapsed, the military orations produced

no effect, and no troops were raised: no one would enlist voluntarily,

and all refused to settle it by lot, because, as they wisely observed,

the lot must fall on somebody. Yet, notwithstanding the objection, the

matter was at length decided by this last method. The decision had no

sooner taken place, than another difficulty ensued--those who escaped

acknowledged it was the best way that could be devised; but those who

were destined to the frontiers refused to go. Various altercations, and

excuses, and references, were the consequence; yet, after all this

murmuring and evasion, the presence of the Commissioners and a few

dragoons have arranged the business very pacifically; many are already

gone, and the rest will (if the dragoons continue here) soon follow.

This, I assure you, is a just statement of the account between the

Convention and the People: every thing is effected by fear--nothing by

attachment; and the one is obeyed only because the other want courage to

resist.--Yours, &c.

Rouen, March 31, 1793.

Rouen, like most of the great towns in France, is what is called

decidedly aristocratic; that is, the rich are discontented because they

are without security, and the poor because they want bread. But these

complaints are not peculiar to large places; the causes of them equally

exist in the smallest village, and the only difference which fixes the

imputation of aristocracy on one more than the other, is, daring to

murmur, or submitting in silence.

I must here remark to you, that the term aristocrate has much varied from

its former signification. A year ago, aristocrate implied one who was an

advocate for the privileges of the nobility, and a partizan of the

ancient government--at present a man is an aristocrate for entertaining

exactly the same principles which at that time constituted a patriot;

and, I believe, the computation is moderate, when I say, that more than

three parts of the nation are aristocrates. The rich, who apprehend a

violation of their property, are aristocrates--the merchants, who regret

the stagnation of commerce, and distrust the credit of the assignats, are

aristocrates--the small retailers, who are pillaged for not selling

cheaper than they buy, and who find these outrages rather encouraged than

repressed, are aristocrates--and even the poor, who murmur at the price

of bread, and the numerous levies for the army, are, occasionally,

aristocrates.

Besides all these, there are likewise various classes of moral

aristocrates--such as the humane, who are averse from massacres and

oppression--those who regret the loss of civil liberty--the devout, who

tremble at the contempt for religion--the vain, who are mortified at the

national degradation--and authors, who sigh for the freedom of the

press.--When you consider this multiplicity of symptomatic indications,

you will not be surprized that such numbers are pronounced in a state of

disease; but our republican physicians will soon generalize these various

species of aristocracy under the single description of all who have any

thing to lose, and every one will be deemed plethoric who is not in a

consumption. The people themselves who observe, though they do not

reason, begin to have an idea that property exposes the safety of the

owner and that the legislature is less inexorable when guilt is

unproductive, than when the conviction of a criminal comprehends the

forfeiture of an estate.--A poor tradesman was lamenting to me yesterday,

that he had neglected an offer of going to live in England; and when I

told him I thought he was very fortunate in having done so, as he would

have been declared an emigrant, he replied, laughing, _"Moi emigre qui

n'ai pas un sol:"_ ["I am emigrant, who am not worth a halfpenny!"]--No,

no; they don't make emigrants of those who are worth nothing. And this

was not said with any intended irreverence to the Convention, but with

the simplicity which really conceived the wealth of the emigrants to be

the cause of the severity exercised against them.

The commercial and political evils attending a vast circulation of

assignats have been often discussed, but I have never yet known the

matter considered in what is, perhaps, its most serious point of view--I

mean its influence on the habits and morals of the people. Wherever I

go, especially in large towns like this, the mischief is evident, and, I

fear, irremediable. That oeconomy, which was one of the most valuable

characteristics of the French, is now comparatively disregarded. The

people who receive what they earn in a currency they hold in contempt,

are more anxious to spend than to save; and those who formerly hoarded

six liards or twelve sols pieces with great care, would think it folly to

hoard an assignat, whatever its nominal value. Hence the lower class of

females dissipate their wages on useless finery; men frequent

public-houses, and game for larger sums than before; little shopkeepers,

instead of amassing their profits, become more luxurious in their table:

public places are always full; and those who used, in a dress becoming

their station, to occupy the "parquet" or "parterre," now, decorated

with paste, pins, gauze, and galloon, fill the boxes:--and all this

destructive prodigality is excused to others and themselves _"par ce que

ce n'est que du papier."_ [Because it is only paper.]--It is vain to

persuade them to oeconomize what they think a few weeks may render

valueless; and such is the evil of a circulation so totally discredited,

that profusion assumes the merit of precaution, extravagance the plea of

necessity, and those who were not lavish by habit become so through

their eagerness to part with their paper. The buried gold and silver

will again be brought forth, and the merchant and the politician forget

the mischief of the assignats. But what can compensate for the injury

done to the people? What is to restore their ancient frugality, or

banish their acquired wants? It is not to be expected that the return

of specie will diminish the inclination for luxury, or that the human

mind can be regulated by the national finance; on the contrary, it is

rather to be feared, that habits of expence which owe their introduction

to the paper will remain when the paper is annihilated; that, though

money may become more scarce, the propensities of which it supplies the

indulgence will not be less forcible, and that those who have no other

resources for their accustomed gratifications will but too often find

one in the sacrifice of their integrity.--Thus, the corruption of

manners will be succeeded by the corruption of morals, and the

dishonesty of one sex, with the licentiousness of the other, produce

consequences much worse than any imagined by the abstracted calculations

of the politician, or the selfish ones of the merchant. Age will be

often without solace, sickness without alleviation, and infancy without

support; because some would not amass for themselves, nor others for

their children, the profits of their labour in a representative sign of

uncertain value.

I do not pretend to assert that these are the natural effects of a paper

circulation--doubtless, when supported by high credit, and an extensive

commerce, it must have many advantages; but this was not the case in

France--the measure was adopted in a moment of revolution, and when the

credit of the country, never very considerable, was precarious and

degraded--It did not flow from the exuberance of commerce, but the

artifices of party--it never presumed, for a moment, on the confidence of

the people--its reception was forced, and its emission too profuse not to

be alarming.--I know it may be answered, that the assignats do not depend

upon an imaginary appreciation, but really represent a large mass of

national wealth, particularly in the domains of the clergy: yet, perhaps,

it is this very circumstance which has tended most to discredit them.

Had their credit rested only on the solvency of the nation, though they

had not been greatly coveted, still they would have been less

distributed; people would not have apprehended their abolition on a

change of government, nor that the systems adopted by one party might be

reversed by another. Indeed we may add, that an experiment of this kind

does not begin auspiciously when grounded on confiscation and seizures,

which it is probable more than half the French considered as sacrilege

and robbery; nor could they be very anxious to possess a species of

wealth which they made it a motive of conscience to hope would never be

of any value.--But if the original creation of assignats were

objectionable, the subsequent creations cannot but augment the evil. I

have already described to you the effects visible at present, and those

to be apprehended in future--others may result from the new inundation,

[1200 millions--50 millions sterling.] which it is not possible to

conjecture; but if the mischiefs should be real, in proportion as a part

of the wealth which this paper is said to represent is imaginary, their

extent cannot easily be exaggerated. Perhaps you will be of this

opinion, when you recollect that one of the funds which form the security

of this vast sum is the gratitude of the Flemings for their liberty; and

if this reimbursement be to be made according to the specimen the French

army have experienced in their retreat, I doubt much of the convention

will be disposed to advance any farther claims on it; for, it seems, the

inhabitants of the Low Countries have been so little sensible of the

benefits bestowed on them, that even the peasants seize on any weapons

nearest hand, and drub and pursue the retrograding armies as they would

wild beasts; and though, as Dumouriez observes in one of his dispatches,

our revolution is intended to favour the country people, _"c'est

cependant les gens de campagne qui s'arment contre nous, et le tocsin

sonne de toutes parts;"_ ["It is, however, the country people who take up

arms against us, and the alarm is sounded from all quarters."] so that

the French will, in fact, have created a public debt of so singular a

nature, that every one will avoid as much as possible making any demand

of the capital.

I have already been more diffuse than I intended on the subject of

finance; but I beg you to observe, that I do not affect to calculate, or

speculate, and that I reason only from facts which are daily within my

notice, and which, as tending to operate on the morals of the people, are

naturally included in the plan I proposed to myself.

I have been here but a few days, and intend returning to-morrow. I left

Mrs. D____ very little better, and the disaffection of Dumouriez, which I

just now learn, may oblige us to remove to some place not on the route to

Paris.--Every one looks alert and important, and a physiognomist may

perceive that regret is not the prevailing sentiment--

"We now begin to speak in tropes,

"And, by our fears, express our hopes."

The Jacobins are said to be apprehensive, which augurs well; for,

certainly, next to the happiness of good people, one desires the

punishment of the bad.

Amiens, April 7, 1793.

If the sentiments of the people towards their present government had been

problematical before, the visible effect of Dumouriez' conduct would

afford an ample solution of the problem. That indifference about public

affairs which the prospect of an established despotism had begun to

create has vanished--all is hope and expectation--the doors of those who

retail the newspapers are assailed by people too impatient to read them--

each with his gazette in his hand listens eagerly to the verbal

circulation, and then holds a secret conference with his neighbour, and

calculates how long it may be before Dumouriez can reach Paris. A

fortnight ago the name of Dumouriez was not uttered but in a tone of

harshness and contempt, and, if ever it excited any thing like

complacency, it was when he announced defeats and losses. Now he is

spoken of with a significant modulation of voice, it is discovered that

he has great talents, and his popularity with the army is descanted upon

with a mysterious air of suppressed satisfaction.--Those who were

extremely apprehensive lest part of the General's troops should be driven

this way by the successes of the enemy, seem to talk with perfect

composure of their taking the same route to attack the capital; while

others, who would have been unwilling to receive either Dumouriez or his

army as peaceful fugitives, will be "nothing loath" to admit them as

conquerors. From all I can learn, these dispositions are very general,

and, indeed, the actual tyranny is so great, and the perspective so

alarming, that any means of deliverance must be acceptable. But whatever

may be the event, though I cannot be personally interested, if I thought

Dumouriez really proposed to establish a good government, humanity would

render one anxious for his success; for it is not to be disguised, that

France is at this moment (as the General himself expressed it) under the

joint dominion of _"imbecilles"_ and _"brigands."_ [Ideots and robbers.]

It is possible, that at this moment the whole army is disaffected, and

that the fortified towns are prepared to surrender. It is also certain,

that Brittany is in revolt, and that many other departments are little

short of it; yet you will not very easily conceive what may have occupied

the Convention during part of this important crisis--nothing less than

inventing a dress for their Commissioners! But, as Sterne says, "it is

the spirit of the nation;" and I recollect no circumstance during the

whole progress of the revolution (however serious) that has not been

mixed with frivolities of this kind.

I know not what effect this new costume may produce on the rebels or the

enemy, but I confess it appears to me more ludicrous than formidable,

especially when a representative happens to be of the shape and features

of the one we have here. Saladin, Deputy for this department, and an

advocate of the town of Amiens, has already invested himself with this

armour of inviolability; "strange figure in such strange habiliments,"

that one is tempted to forget that Baratraria and the government of

Sancho are the creation of fancy. Imagine to yourself a short fat man,

of sallow complexion and small eyes, with a sash of white, red, and blue

round his waist, a black belt with a sword suspended across his

shoulders, and a round hat turned up before, with three feathers of the

national colours: "even such a man" is our representative, and exercises

a more despotic authority than most Princes in Europe.--He is accompanied

by another Deputy, who was what is called Pere de la Oratoire before the

revolution--that is, in a station nearly approaching to that of an

under-master at our public schools; only that the seminaries to which

these were attached being very numerous, those employed in them were

little considered. They wore the habit, and were subject to the same

restrictions, as the Clergy, but were at liberty to quit the profession

and marry, if they chose.--I have been more particular in describing

this class of men, because they have every where taken an active and

successful part in perverting and misleading the people: they are in the

clubs, or the municipalities, in the Convention, and in all elective

administrations, and have been in most places remarkable for their

sedition and violence.

Several reasons may be assigned for the influence and conduct of men

whose situation and habits, on a first view, seem to oppose both. In the

first ardour of reform it was determined, that all the ancient modes of

education should be abolished; small temporary pensions were allotted to

the Professors of Colleges, and their admission to the exercise of

similar functions in the intended new system was left to future decision.

From this time the disbanded oratorians, who knew it would be vain to

resist popular authority, endeavoured to share in it; or, at least, by

becoming zealous partizans of the revolution, to establish their claims

to any offices or emoluments which might be substituted for those they

had been deprived of. They enrolled themselves with the Jacobins,

courted the populace, and, by the talent of pronouncing Roman names with

emphasis, and the study of rhetorical attitudes, they became important to

associates who were ignorant, or necessary to those who were designing.

The little information generally possessed by the middle classes of life

in France, is also another cause of the comparative importance of those

whose professions had, in this respect, raised them something above the

common level. People of condition, liberally educated, have

unfortunately abandoned public affairs for some time; so that the

incapacity of some, and the pride or despondency of others, have, in a

manner, left the nation to the guidance of pedants, incendiaries, and

adventurers. Perhaps also the animosity with which the description of

men I allude to pursued every thing attached to the ancient government,

may, in some degree, have proceeded from a desire of revenge and

retaliation. They were not, it must be confessed, treated formerly with

the regard due to persons whose profession was in itself useful and

respectable; and the wounds of vanity are not easily cured, nor the

vindictiveness of little minds easily satisfied.

From the conduct and popular influence of these Peres de l'Oratoire, some

truths may be deduced not altogether useless even to a country not liable

to such violent reforms. It affords an example of the danger arising

from those sudden and arbitrary innovations, which, by depriving any part

of the community of their usual means of living, and substituting no

other, tempt them to indemnify themselves by preying, in different ways,

on their fellow-citizens.--The daring and ignorant often become

depredators of private property; while those who have more talents, and

less courage, endeavour to succeed by the artifices which conciliate

public favour. I am not certain whether the latter are not to be most

dreaded of the two, for those who make a trade of the confidence of the

people seldom fail to corrupt them--they find it more profitable to

flatter their passions than to enlighten their understandings; and a

demagogue of this kind, who obtains an office by exciting one popular

insurrection, will make no scruple of maintaining himself in it by

another. An inferrence may likewise be drawn of the great necessity of

cultivating such a degree of useful knowledge in the middle order of

society, as may not only prevent their being deceived by interested

adventurers themselves, but enable them to instruct the people in their

true interests, and rescue them from becoming the instruments, and

finally the victims, of fraud and imposture.--The insult and oppression

which the nobility frequently experience from those who have been

promoted by the revolution, will, I trust, be a useful lesson in future

to the great, who may be inclined to arrogate too much from adventitious

distinctions, to forget that the earth we tread upon may one day

overwhelm us, and that the meanest of mankind may do us an injury which

it is not in the power even of the most exalted to shield us from.

The inquisition begins to grow so strict, that I have thought it

necessary to-day to bury a translation of Burke.--In times of ignorance

and barbarity, it was criminal to read the bible, and our English author

is prohibited for a similar reason--that is, to conceal from the people

the errors of those who direct them: and, indeed, Mr. Burke has written

some truths, which it is of much more importance for the Convention to

conceal, than it could be to the Catholic priests to monopolize the

divine writings.--As far as it was possible, Mr. Burke has shown himself

a prophet: if he has not been completely so, it was because he had a

benevolent heart, and is the native of a free country. By the one, he

was prevented from imagining the cruelties which the French have

committed; by the other, the extreme despotism which they endure.

April 20, 1793.

Before these halcyon days of freedom, the supremacy of Paris was little

felt in the provinces, except in dictating a new fashion in dress, an

improvement in the art of cookery, or the invention of a minuet. At

present our imitations of the capital are something more serious; and if

our obedience be not quite so voluntary, it is much more implicit.

Instead of receiving fashions from the Court, we take them now from the

_dames des balles,_ [Market-women.] and the municipality; and it must be

allowed, that the imaginations of our new sovereigns much exceed those of

the old in force and originality.

The mode of pillaging the shops, for instance, was first devised by the

Parisian ladies, and has lately been adopted with great success in the

departments; the visite domiciliaire, also, which I look upon as a most

ingenious effort of fancy, is an emanation from the commune of Paris, and

has had an universal run.--But it would be vain to attempt enumerating

all the obligations of this kind which we owe to the indulgence of that

virtuous city: our last importation, however, is of so singular a nature,

that, were we not daily assured all the liberty in the world centers in

Paris, I should be doubtful as to its tendency. It has lately been

decreed, that every house in the republic shall have fixed on the outside

of the door, in legible characters, the name, age, birth-place, and

profession of its inhabitants. Not the poorest cottager, nor those who

are too old or too young for action, nor even unmarried ladies, are

exempt from thus proclaiming the abstract of their history to passers-by.

--The reigning party judge very wisely, that all those who are not

already their enemies may become so, and that those who are unable to

take a part themselves may excite others: but, whatever may be the

intention of this measure, it is impossible to conceive any thing which

could better serve the purposes of an arbitrary government; it places

every individual in the republic within the immediate reach of informers

and spies--it points out those who are of an age to serve in the army--

those who have sought refuge in one department from the persecutions of

another--and, in short, whether a victim is pursued by the denunciation

of private malice, or political suspicion, it renders escape almost

impracticable.

We have had two domiciliary visits within the last fortnight--one to

search for arms, the other under pretext of ascertaining the number of

troops each house is capable of lodging. But this was only the pretext,

because the municipalities always quarter troops as they think proper,

without considering whether you have room or not; and the real object of

this inquisition was to observe if the inhabitants answered to the lists

placed on the doors.--Mrs. D____ was ill in bed, but you must not imagine

such a circumstance deterred these gallant republicans from entering her

room with an armed force, to calculate how many soldiers might be lodged

in the bedchamber of a sick female! The French, indeed, had never, in my

remembrance, any pretensions to delicacy, or even decency, and they are

certainly not improved in these respects by the revolution.

It is curious in walking the streets, to observe the devices of the

several classes of aristocracy; for it is not to be disguised, that since

the hope from Dumouriez has vanished, though the disgust of the people

may be increased, their terror is also greater than ever, and the

departments near Paris have no resource but silent submission. Every

one, therefore, obeys the letter of the decrees with the diligence of

fear, while they elude the spirit of them with all the ingenuity of

hatred. The rich, for example, who cannot entirely divest themselves of

their remaining hauteur, exhibit a sullen compliance on a small piece of

paper, written in a small hand, and placed at the very extreme of the

height allowed by the law. Some fix their bills so as to be half covered

by a shutter; others fasten them only with wafers, so that the wind

detaching one or two corners, makes it impossible to read the rest.*

* This contrivance became so common, that an article was obliged to

be added to the decree, importing, that whenever the papers were

damaged or effaced by the weather, or deranged by the wind, the

inhabitants should replace them, under a penalty.

Many who have courts or passages to their houses, put their names on the

half of a gate which they leave open, so that the writing is not

perceptible but to those who enter. But those who are most afraid, or

most decidedly aristocrates, subjoin to their registers, "All good

republicans:" or, _"Vive la republique, une et indivisible."_ ["The

republic, one and indivisible for ever!"] Some likewise, who are in

public offices, or shopkeepers who are very timid, and afraid of pillage,

or are ripe for a counter-revolution, have a sheet half the size of the

door, decorated with red caps, tri-coloured ribbons, and flaming

sentences ending in "Death or Liberty!"

If, however, the French government confined itself to these petty acts of

despotism, I would endeavour to be reconciled to it; but I really begin

to have serious apprehensions, not so much for our safety as our

tranquillity, and if I considered only myself, I should not hesitate to

return to England. Mrs. D____ is too ill to travel far at present, and

her dread of crossing the sea makes her less disposed to think our

situation here hazardous or ineligible. Mr. D____, too, who, without

being a republican or a partizan of the present system, has always been a

friend to the first revolution, is unwilling to believe the Convention so

bad as there is every reason to suppose it. I therefore let my judgement

yield to my friendship, and, as I cannot prevail on them to depart, the

danger which may attend our remaining is an additional reason for my not

quitting them.

The national perfidy which has always distinguished France among the

other countries of Europe, seems now not to be more a diplomatic

principle, than a rule of domestic government. It is so extended and

generalized, that an individual is as much liable to be deceived and

betrayed by confiding in a decree, as a foreign power would be by relying

on the faith of a treaty.--An hundred and twenty priests, above sixty

years of age, who had not taken the oaths, but who were allowed to remain

by the same law that banished those who were younger, have been lately

arrested, and are confined together in a house which was once a college.

The people did not behold this act of cruelty with indifference, but,

awed by an armed force, and the presence of the Commissioners of the

Convention, they could only follow the priests to their prison with

silent regret and internal horror. They, however, venture even now to

mark their attachment, by taking all opportunities of seeing them, and

supplying them with necessaries, which it is not very difficult to do, as

they are guarded by the Bourgeois, who are generally inclined to favour

them. I asked a woman to-day if she still contrived to have access to

the priests, and she replied, _"Ah, oui, il y a encore de la facilite,

par ce que l'on ne trouve pas des gardes ici qui ne sont pas pour eux."_*

* "Yes, yes, we still contive it, because there are no guards to be

found here who don't befriend them."

Thus, even the most minute and best organized tyranny may be eluded; and,

indeed, if all the agents of this government acted in the spirit of its

decrees, it would be insupportable even to a native of Turkey or Japan.

But if some have still a remnant of humanity left, there are a sufficient

number who execute the laws as unfeelingly as they are conceived.

When these poor priests were to be removed from their several houses, it

was found necessary to dislodge the Bishop of Amiens, who had for some

time occupied the place fixed on for their reception. The Bishop had

notice given him at twelve o'clock in the day to relinquish his lodging

before evening; yet the Bishop of Amiens is a constitutional Prelate, and

had, before the revolution, the cure of a large parish at Paris; nor was

it without much persuasion that he accepted the see of Amiens. In the

severe winter of 1789 he disposed of his plate and library, (the latter

of which was said to be one of the best private collections in Paris,) to

purchase bread for the poor. "But Time hath a wallet on his back,

wherein he puts alms for oblivion;" and the charities of the Bishop could

not shield him from the contempt and insult which pursue his profession.

I have been much distressed within the last few days on account of my

friend Madame de B____. I subjoining a translation of a letter I have

just received from her, as it will convey to you hereafter a tolerable

specimen of French liberty.

"Maison de Arret, at ____.

"I did not write to you, my dear friend, at the time I promised, and

you will perceive, by the date of this, that I have had too good an

excuse for my negligence. I have been here almost a week, and my

spirits are still so much disordered, that I can with difficulty

recollect myself enough to relate the circumstances of our

unfortunate situation; but as it is possible you might become

acquainted with them by some other means, I rather determined to

send you a few lines, than suffer you to be alarmed by false or

exaggerated reports.

"About two o'clock on Monday morning last our servants were called

up, and, on their opening the door, the house was immediately filled

with armed men, some of whom began searching the rooms, while others

came to our bedchamber, and informed us we were arrested by order of

the department, and that we must rise and accompany them to prison.

It is not easy to describe the effect of such a mandate on people

who, having nothing to reproach themselves with, could not be

prepared for it.--As soon as we were a little recovered from our

first terrors, we endeavoured to obey, and begged they would indulge

us by retiring a few moments till I had put my clothes on; but

neither my embarrassment, nor the screams of the child--neither

decency nor humanity, could prevail. They would not even permit my

maid to enter the room; and, amidst this scene of disorder, I was

obliged to dress myself and the terrified infant. When this

unpleasant task was finished, a general examination of our house and

papers took place, and lasted until six in the evening: nothing,

however, tending in the remotest degree to criminate us was found,

but we were nevertheless conducted to prison, and God knows how long

we are likely to remain here. The denunciation against us being

secret, and not being able to learn either our crime or our

accusers, it is difficult for us to take any measures for our

enlargement. We cannot defend ourselves against a charge of which

we are ignorant, nor combat the validity of a witness, who is not

only allowed to remain secret, but is paid perhaps for his

information.*

* At this time informers were paid from fifty to an hundred

livres for each accusation.

"We most probably owe our misfortune to some discarded servant or

personal enemy, for I believe you are convinced we have not merited

it either by our discourse or our actions: if we had, the charge

would have been specific; but we have reason to imagine it is

nothing more than the indeterminate and general charge of being

aristocrates. I did not see my mother or sister all the day we were

arrested, nor till the evening of the next: the one was engaged

perhaps with "Rosine and the Angola", who were indisposed, and the

other would not forego her usual card-party. Many of our friends

likewise have forborne to approach us, lest their apparent interest

in our fate should involve themselves; and really the alarm is so

general, that I can, without much effort, forgive them.

"You will be pleased to learn, that the greatest civilities I have

received in this unpleasant situation, have been from some of your

countrymen, who are our fellow-prisoners: they are only poor

sailors, but they are truly kind and attentive, and do us various

little services that render us more comfortable than we otherwise

should be; for we have no servants here, having deemed it prudent to

leave them to take care of our property. The second night we were

here, these good creatures, who lodge in the next room, were rather

merry, and awoke the child; but as they found, by its cries, that

their gaiety had occasioned me some trouble, I have observed ever

since that they walk softly, and avoid making the least noise, after

the little prisoner is gone to rest. I believe they are pleased

with me because I speak their language, and they are still more

delighted with your young favourite, who is so well amused, that he

begins to forget the gloom of the place, which at first terrified

him extremely.

"One of our companions is a nonjuring priest, who has been

imprisoned under circumstances which make me almost ashamed of my

country.--After having escaped from a neighbouring department, he

procured himself a lodging in this town, and for some time lived

very peaceably, till a woman, who suspected his profession, became

extremely importunate with him to confess her. The poor man, for

several days, refused, telling her, that he did not consider himself

as a priest, nor wished to be known as such, nor to infringe the law

which excluded him. The woman, however, still continued to

persecute him, alledging, that her conscience was distressed, and

that her peace depended on her being able to confess "in the right

way." At length he suffered himself to be prevailed upon--the woman

received an hundred livres for informing against him, and, perhaps,

the priest will be condemned to the Guillotine.*

* He was executed some time after.

"I will make no reflection on this act, nor on the system of paying

informers--your heart will already have anticipated all I could say.

I will only add, that if you determine to remain in France, you must

observe a degree of circumspection which you may not hitherto have

thought necessary. Do not depend on your innocence, nor even trust

to common precautions--every day furnishes examples that both are

unavailing.--Adieu.--My husband offers you his respects, and your

little friend embraces you sincerely. As soon as any change in our

favour takes place, I will communicate it to you; but you had better

not venture to write--I entrust this to Louison's mother, who is

going through Amiens, as it would be unsafe to send it by the post.

--Again adieu.--Yours,

"Adelaide de ____."

Amiens, 1793.

It is observable, that we examine less scrupulously the pretensions of a

nation to any particular excellence, than we do those of an individual.

The reason of this is, probably, that our self-love is as much gratified

by admitting the one, as in rejecting the other. When we allow the

claims of a whole people, we are flattered with the idea of being above

narrow prejudices, and of possessing an enlarged and liberal mind; but if

a single individual arrogate to himself any exclusive superiority, our

own pride immediately becomes opposed to his, and we seem but to

vindicate our judgement in degrading such presumption.

I can conceive no other causes for our having so long acquiesced in the

claims of the French to pre-eminent good breeding, in an age when, I

believe, no person acquainted with both nations can discover any thing to

justify them. If indeed politeness consisted in the repetition of a

certain routine of phrases, unconnected with the mind or action, I might

be obliged to decide against our country; but while decency makes a part

of good manners, or feeling is preferable to a mechanical jargon, I am

inclined to think the English have a merit more than they have hitherto

ascribed to themselves. Do not suppose, however, that I am going to

descant on the old imputations of "French flattery," and "French

insincerity;" for I am far from concluding that civil behaviour gives one

a right to expect kind offices, or that a man is false because he pays a

compliment, and refuses a service: I only wish to infer, that an

impertinence is not less an impertinence because it is accompanied by a

certain set of words, and that a people, who are indelicate to excess,

cannot properly be denominated "a polite people."

A French man or woman, with no other apology than _"permettez moi,"_

["Give me leave."] will take a book out of your hand, look over any thing

you are reading, and ask you a thousand questions relative to your most

private concerns--they will enter your room, even your bedchamber,

without knocking, place themselves between you and the fire, or take hold

of your clothes to guess what they cost; and they deem these acts of

rudeness sufficiently qualified by _"Je demande bien de pardons."_ ["I

ask you a thousand pardons."]--They are fully convinced that the English

all eat with their knives, and I have often heard this discussed with

much self-complacence by those who usually shared the labours of the

repast between a fork and their fingers. Our custom also of using

water-glasses after dinner is an object of particular censure; yet whoever

dines at a French table must frequently observe, that many of the guests

might benefit by such ablutions, and their napkins always testify that

some previous application would be by no means superfluous. Nothing is

more common than to hear physical derangements, disorders, and their

remedies, expatiated upon by the parties concerned amidst a room full of

people, and that with so much minuteness of description, that a

foreigner, without being very fastidious, is on some occasions apt to

feel very unpleasant sympathies. There are scarcely any of the

ceremonies of a lady's toilette more a mystery to one sex than the other,

and men and their wives, who scarcely eat at the same table, are in this

respect grossly familiar. The conversation in most societies partakes of

this indecency, and the manners of an English female are in danger of

becoming contaminated, while she is only endeavouring to suffer without

pain the customs of those she has been taught to consider as models of

politeness.

Whether you examine the French in their houses or in public, you are

every where stricken with the same want of delicacy, propriety, and

cleanliness. The streets are mostly so filthy, that it is perilous to

approach the walls. The insides of the churches are often disgusting, in

spite of the advertisements that are placed in them to request the

forbearance of phthifical persons: the service does not prevent those who

attend from going to and fro with the same irreverence as if the church

were empty; and, in the most solemn part of the mass, a woman is suffered

to importune you for a liard, as the price of the chair you sit on. At

the theatres an actor or actress frequently coughs and expectorates on

the stage, in a manner one should think highly unpardonable before one's

most intimate friends in England, though this habit is very common to all

the French. The inns abound with filth of every kind, and though the

owners of them are generally civil enough, their notions of what is

decent are so very different from ours, that an English traveller is not

soon reconciled to them. In short, it would be impossible to enumerate

all that in my opinion excludes the French from the character of a

well-bred people.--Swift, who seems to have been gratified by the

contemplation of physical impurity, might have done the subject justice;

but I confess I am not displeased to feel that, after my long and

frequent residences in France, I am still unqualified. So little are

these people susceptible of delicacy, propriety, and decency, that they

do not even use the words in the sense we do, nor have they any others

expressive of the same meaning.

But if they be deficient in the external forms of politeness, they are

infinitely more so in that politeness which may be called mental. The

simple and unerring rule of never preferring one's self, is to them more

difficult of comprehension than the most difficult problem in Euclid: in

small things as well as great, their own interest, their own

gratification, is their leading principle; and the cold flexibility which

enables them to clothe this selfish system in "fair forms," is what they

call politeness.

My ideas on this subject are not recent, but they occurred to me with

additional force on the perusal of Mad. de B____'s letter. The behaviour

of some of the poorest and least informed class of our countrymen forms a

striking contrast with that of the people who arrested her, and even her

own friends: the unaffected attention of the one, and the brutality and

neglect of the other, are, perhaps, more just examples of English and

French manners than you may have hitherto imagined. I do not, however,

pretend to say that the latter are all gross and brutal, but I am myself

convinced that, generally speaking, they are an unfeeling people.

I beg you to remember, that when I speak of the dispositions and

character of the French, my opinions are the result of general

observation, and are applicable to all ranks; but when my remarks are on

habits and manners, they describe only those classes which are properly

called the nation. The higher noblesse, and those attached to courts, so

nearly resemble each other in all countries, that they are necessarily

excepted in these delineations, which are intended to mark the

distinguishing features of a people at large: for, assuredly, when the

French assert, and their neighbours repeat, that they are a polite

nation, it is not meant that those who have important offices or

dignified appellations are polite: they found their claims on their

superiority as a people, and it is in this light I consider them. My

examples are chiefly drawn, not from the very inferior, nor from the most

eminent ranks; neither from the retailer of a shop, nor the claimant of a

_tabouret,_* or _les grandes ou petites entrees;_ but from the gentry,

those of easy fortunes, merchants, &c.--in fact, from people of that

degree which it would be fair to cite as what may be called genteel

society in England.

* The tabouret was a stool allowed to the Ladies of the Court

particularly distinguished by rank or favour, when in presence of

the Royal Family.--"Les entrees" gave a familiar access to the King

and Queen.

This cessation of intercourse with our country dispirits me, and, as it

will probably continue some time, I shall amuse myself by noting more

particularly the little occurrences which may not reach your public

prints, but which tend more than great events to mark both the spirit of

the government and that of the people.--Perhaps you may be ignorant that

the prohibition of the English mails was not the consequence of a decree

of the Convention, but a simple order of its commissioners; and I have

some reason to think that even they acted at the instigation of an

individual who harbours a mean and pitiful dislike to England and its

inhabitants.--Yours, &c.

May 18, 1793.

Near six weeks ago a decree was passed by the Convention, obliging all

strangers, who had not purchased national property, or who did not

exercise some profession, to give security to the amount of half their

supposed fortune, and under these conditions they were to receive a

certificate, allowing them to reside, and were promised the protection of

the laws. The administrators of the departments, who perceive that they

become odious by executing the decrees of the Convention, begin to relax

much of their diligence, and it is not till long after a law is

promulgated, and their personal fear operates as a stimulant, that they

seriously enforce obedience to these mandates. This morning, however, we

were summoned by the Committee of our section (or ward) in order to

comply with the terms of the decree, and had I been directed only by my

own judgement, I should have given the preference to an immediate return

to England; but Mrs. D____ is yet ill, and Mr. D____ is disposed to

continue. In vain have I quoted "how fickle France was branded 'midst

the nations of the earth for perfidy and breach of public faith;" in vain

have I reasoned upon the injustice of a government that first allured

strangers to remain by insidious offers of protection, and now subjects

them to conditions which many may find it difficult to subscribe to: Mr.

D____ wishes to see our situation in the most favourable point of view:

he argues upon the moral impossibility of our being liable to any

inconvenience, and persists in believing that one government may act with

treachery towards another, yet, distinguishing between falsehood and

meanness, maintain its faith with individuals--in short, we have

concluded a sort of treaty, by which we are bound, under the forfeiture

of a large sum, to behave peaceably and submit to the laws. The

government, in return, empowers us to reside, and promises protection and

hospitality.

It is to be observed, that the spirit of this regulation depends upon

those it affects producing six witnesses of their _"civisme;"_* yet so

little interest do the people take on these occasions, that our witnesses

were neighbours we had scarcely ever seen, and even one was a man who

happened to be casually passing by.

* Though the meaning of this word is obvious, we have no one that is

exactly synonymous to it. The Convention intend by it an attachment

to their government: but the people do not trouble themselves about

the meaning of words--they measure their unwilling obedience by the

letter.

These Committees, which form the last link of a chain of despotism, are

composed of low tradesmen and day-labourers, with an attorney, or some

person that can read and write, at their head, as President. Priests and

nobles, with all that are related, or anywise attached, to them, are

excluded by the law; and it is understood that true sans-culottes only

should be admitted.

With all these precautions, the indifference and hatred of the people to

their government are so general, that, perhaps, there are few places

where this regulation is executed so as to answer the purposes of the

jealous tyranny that conceived it. The members of these Committees seem

to exact no farther compliances than such as are absolutely necessary to

the mere form of the proceeding, and to secure themselves from the

imputation of disobedience; and are very little concerned whether the

real design of the legislature be accomplished or not. This negligence,

or ill-will, which prevails in various instances, tempers, in some

degree, the effect of that restless suspicion which is the usual

concomitant of an uncertain, but arbitrary, power. The affections or

prejudices that surround a throne, by ensuring the safety of the Monarch,

engage him to clemency, and the laws of a mild government are, for the

most part, enforced with exactness; but a new and precarious authority,

which neither imposes on the understanding nor interests the heart, which

is supported only by a palpable and unadorned tyranny, is in its nature

severe, and it becomes the common cause of the people to counteract the

measures of a despotism which they are unable to resist.--This (as I have

before had occasion to observe) renders the condition of the French less

insupportable, but it is by no means sufficient to banish the fears of a

stranger who has been accustomed to look for security, not from a

relaxation or disregard of the laws, but from their efficacy; not from

the characters of those who execute them, but from the rectitude with

which they are formed.--What would you think in England, if you were

obliged to contemplate with dread the three branches of your legislature,

and depend for the protection of your person and property on soldiers and

constables? Yet such is nearly the state we are in; and indeed a system

of injustice and barbarism gains ground so fast, that almost any

apprehension is justified.--The Tribunal Revolutionnaire has already

condemned a servant maid for her political opinions; and one of the

Judges of this tribunal lately introduced a man to the Jacobins, with

high panegyrics, because, as he alledged, he had greatly contributed to

the condemnation of a criminal. The same Judge likewise apologized for

having as yet sent but a small number to the Guillotine, and promises,

that, on the first appearance of a "Brissotin" before him, he will show

him no mercy.

When the minister of public justice thus avows himself the agent of a

party, a government, however recent its formation, must be far advanced

in depravity; and the corruption of those who are the interpreters of the

law has usually been the last effort of expiring power.

My friends, Mons. And Mad. de B____, are released from their confinement;

not as you might expect, by proving their innocence, but by the efforts

of an individual, who had more weight than their accuser: and, far from

obtaining satisfaction for the injury they have received, they are

obliged to accept as a favour the liberty they were deprived of by malice

and injustice. They will, most probably, never be acquainted with the

nature of the charges brought against them; and their accuser will escape

with impunity, and, perhaps, meet with reward.

All the French papers are filled with descriptions of the enthusiasm with

which the young men "start to arms" [_Offian._] at the voice of their

country; yet it is very certain, that this enthusiasm is of so subtle and

aerial a form as to be perceivable only to those who are interested in

discovering it. In some places these enthusiastic warriors continue to

hide themselves--from others they are escorted to the place of their

destination by nearly an equal number of dragoons; and no one, I believe,

who can procure money to pay a substitute, is disposed to go himself.

This is sufficiently proved by the sums demanded by those who engage as

substitutes: last year from three to five hundred livres was given; at

present no one will take less than eight hundred or a thousand, besides

being furnished with clothes, &c. The only real volunteers are the sons

of aristocrates, and the relations of emigrants, who, sacrificing their

principles to their fears, hope, by enlisting in the army, to protect

their estates and families: those likewise who have lucrative

employments, and are afraid of losing them, affect great zeal, and expect

to purchase impunity for civil peculation at home, by the military

services of their children abroad.

This, I assure you, is the real state of that enthusiasm which occasions

such an expence of eloquence to our gazette-writers; but these fallacious

accounts are not like the ephemeral deceits of your party prints in

England, the effect of which is destroyed in a few hours by an opposite

assertion. None here are bold enough to contradict what their sovereigns

would have believed; and a town or district, driven almost to revolt by

the present system of recruiting, consents very willingly to be described

as marching to the frontiers with martial ardour, and burning to combat

les esclaves des tyrans! By these artifices, one department is misled

with regard to the dispositions of another, and if they do not excite to

emulation, they, at least, repress by fear; and, probably, many are

reduced to submission, who would resist, were they not doubtful of the

support and union of their neighbours. Every possible precaution is

taken to prevent any connections between the different departments--

people who are not known cannot obtain passports without the

recommendation of two housekeepers--you must give an account of the

business you go upon, of the carriage you mean to travel in, whether it

has two wheels or four: all of which must be specified in your passport:

and you cannot send your baggage from one town to another without the

risk of having it searched. All these things are so disgusting and

troublesome, that I begin to be quite of a different opinion from Brutus,

and should certainly prefer being a slave among a free people, than thus

be tormented with the recollection that I am a native of England in a

land of slavery. Whatever liberty the French might have acquired by

their first revolution, it is now much like Sir John Cutler's worsted

stockings, so torn, and worn, and disguised by patchings and mendings,

that the original texture is not discoverable.--Yours, &c.

June 3, 1793.

We have been three days without receiving newspapers; but we learn from

the reports of the courier, that the Brissotins are overthrown, that many

of them have been arrested, and several escaped to raise adherents in the

departments. I, however, doubt much if their success will be very

general: the people have little preference between Brissot and Marat,

Condorcet and Robespierre, and are not greatly solicitous about the names

or even principles of those who govern them--they are not yet accustomed

to take that lively interest in public events which is the effect of a

popular constitution. In England every thing is a subject of debate and

contest, but here they wait in silence the result of any political

measure or party dispute; and, without entering into the merits of the

cause, adopt whatever is successful. While the King was yet alive, the

news of Paris was eagerly sought after, and every disorder of the

metropolis created much alarm: but one would almost suppose that even

curiosity had ceased at his death, for I have observed no subsequent

event (except the defection of Dumouriez) make any very serious

impression. We hear, therefore, with great composure, the present

triumph of the more violent republicans, and suffer without impatience

this interregnum of news, which is to continue until the Convention shall

have determined in what manner the intelligence of their proceedings

shall be related to the departments.

The great solicitude of the people is now rather about their physical

existence than their political one--provisions are become enormously

dear, and bread very scarce: our servants often wait two hours at the

baker's, and then return without bread for breakfast. I hope, however,

the scarcity is rather artificial than real. It is generally supposed to

be occasioned by the unwillingness of the farmers to sell their corn for

paper. Some measures have been adopted with an intention of remedying

this evil, though the origin of it is beyond the reach of decree. It

originates in that distrust of government which reconciles one part of

the community to starving the other, under the idea of self-preservation.

While every individual persists in establishing it as a maxim, that any

thing is better than assignats, we must expect that all things will be

difficult to procure, and will, of course, bear a high price. I fear,

all the empyricism of the legislature cannot produce a nostrum for this

want of faith. Dragoons and penal laws only "linger, and linger it out;"

the disease is incurable.

My friends, Mons. and Mad. de B____, by way of consolation for their

imprisonment, now find themselves on the list of emigrants, though they

have never been a single day absent from their own province, or from

places of residence where they are well known. But that they may not

murmur at this injustice, the municipality have accompanied their names

with those of others who have not even been absent from the town, and of

one gentleman in particular, who I believe may have been seen on the

ramparts every day for these seven years.--This may appear to you only

very absurd, and you may imagine the consequences easily obviated; yet

these mistakes are the effect of private malice, and subject the persons

affected by them to an infinity of expence and trouble. They are

obliged, in order to avert the confiscation of their property, to appear,

in every part of the republic where they have possessions, with

attestations of their constant residence in France, and perhaps suffer a

thousand mortifications from the official ignorance and brutality of the

persons to whom they apply. No remedy lies against the authors of these

vexations, and the sufferer who is prudent fears even to complain.

I have, in a former letter, noticed the great number of beggars that

swarm at Arras: they are not less numerous at Amiens, though of a

different description--they are neither so disgusting, nor so wretched,

but are much more importunate and insolent--they plead neither sickness

nor infirmity, and are, for the most part, able and healthy. How so many

people should beg by profession in a large manufacturing town, it is

difficult to conceive; but, whatever may be the cause, I am tempted to

believe the effect has some influence on the manners of the inhabitants

of Amiens. I have seen no town in France so remarkable for a rude and

unfeeling behaviour, and it is not fanciful to conjecture that the

multitude of poor may tend in part to occasion it. The constant view of

a sort of misery that excites little compassion, of an intrusive

necessity which one is more desirous to repulse than to relieve, cannot

but render the heart callous, and the manners harsh. The avarice of

commerce, which is here unaccompanied by its liberality, is glad to

confound real distress with voluntary and idle indigence, till, in time,

an absence of feeling becomes part of the character; and the constant

habit of petulant refusals, or of acceding more from fatigue than

benevolence, has perhaps a similar effect on the voice, gesture, and

external.

This place has been so often visited by those who describe better than

myself, that I have thought it unnecessary to mention public buildings,

or any thing equally obvious to the traveller or the resident. The

beauty and elegance of the cathedral have been celebrated for ages, and I

only remind you of it to indulge my national vanity in the reflection

that one of the most splendid monuments of Gothic architecture in France

is the work of our English ancestors. The edifice is in perfect

preservation, and the hand of power has not yet ventured to appropriate

the plate or ornaments; but this forbearance will most probably give way

to temptation and impunity. The Convention will respect ancient

prejudices no longer than they suppose the people have courage to defend

them, and the latter seem so entirely subdued, that, however they may

murmur, I do not think any serious resistance is to be expected from

them, even in behalf of the relics of St. Firmin. [St. Firmin, the patron

of Amiens, where he is, in many of the streets, represented with his head

in his hand.]--The bust of Henry the Fourth, which was a present from the

Monarch himself, is banished the town-house, where it was formerly

placed, though, I hope, some royalist has taken possession of it, and

deposited it in safety till better times. This once popular Prince is

now associated with Nero and Caligula, and it is "leze nation" to speak

of him to a thorough republican.--I know not if the French had before the

revolution reached the acme of perfection, but they have certainly been

retrograding very fast since. Every thing that used to create fondness

and veneration is despised, and things are esteemed only in proportion as

they are worthless. Perhaps the bust of Robespierre may one day replace

that of Henry the Fourth, and, to speak in the style of an eastern

epistle, "what can I say more?"

Should you ever travel this way with Gray in your hand, you will look for

the Ursuline convent, and regret the paintings he mentions: but you may

recollect, for your consolation, that they are merely pretty, and

remarkable only for being the work of one of the nuns.--Gray, who seems

to have had that enthusiastic respect for religious orders common to

young minds, admired them on this account; and numbers of English

travellers have, I dare say, prepossessed by such an authority,

experienced the same disappointment I myself felt on visiting the

Ursuline church. Many of the chapels belonging to these communities were

very showy and much decorated with gilding and sculpture: some of them

are sold for a mere trifle, but the greatest part are filled with corn

and forage, and on the door is inscribed "Magazin des armees." The

change is almost incredible to those who remember, that less than four

years ago the Catholic religion was strictly practised, and the violation

of these sanctuaries deemed sacrilegious. Our great historian [Gibbon]

might well say "the influence of superstition is fluctuating and

precarious;" though, in the present instance, it has rather been

restrained than subdued; and the people, who have not been convinced, but

intimidated, secretly lament these innovations, and perhaps reproach

themselves conscientiously with their submission.--Yours.

June 20, 1793.

Mercier, in his Tableau de Paris, notices, on several occasions, the

little public spirit existing among his countrymen--it is also

observable, that many of the laws and customs presume on this deficiency,

and the name of republicans has by no means altered that cautious

disposition which makes the French consider either misfortunes or

benefits only as their personal interest is affected by them.--I am just

returned from a visit to Abbeville, where we were much alarmed on Sunday

by a fire at the Paraclete convent. The tocsin rang great part of the

day, and the principal street of the town was in danger of being

destroyed. In such circumstances, you will suppose, that people of all

ranks eagerly crouded to offer their service, and endeavour to stop the

progress of so terrible a calamity. By no means--the gates of the town

were shut to prevent its entire evacuation, many hid themselves in

garrets and cellars, and dragoons patrolled the streets, and even entered

the houses, to force the inhabitants to assist in procuring water; while

the consternation, usually the effect of such accidents, was only owing

to the fear of being obliged to aid the sufferers.--This employment of

military coercion for what humanity alone should dictate, is not

ascribeable to the principles of the present government--it was the same

before the revolution, (except that the agents of the ancient system were

not so brutal and despotic as the soldiers of the republic,) and

compulsion was always deemed necessary where there was no stimulant but

the general interest.

In England, at any alarm of the fort, all distinction of ranks is

forgotten, and every one is solicitous to contribute as much as he is

able to the safety of his fellow-citizens; and, so far from an armed

force being requisite to procure assistance, the greatest difficulty is

to repress the too-officious zeal of the croud.--I do not pretend to

account for this national disparity, but I fear what a French gentleman

once said to me of the Parisians is applicable to the general character,

_"Ils sont tous egoistes,"_ ["They are all selfish!"] and they would not

do a benevolent action at the risk of soiling a coat or tearing a ruffle.

Distrust of the assignats, and scarcity of bread, have occasioned a law

to oblige the farmers, in every part of the republic, to sell their corn

at a certain price, infinitely lower than what they have exacted for some

months past. The consequence of this was, that, on the succeeding market

days, no corn came to market, and detachments of dragoons are obliged to

scour the country to preserve us from a famine. If it did not convey an

idea both of the despotism and want with which the nation is afflicted,

one should be amused by the ludicrous figures of the farmers, who enter

the town preceded by soldiers, and reposing with doleful visages on their

sacks of wheat. Sometimes you see a couple of dragoons leading in

triumph an old woman and an ass, who follow with lingering steps their

military conductors; and the very ass seems to sympathize with his

mistress on the disaster of selling her corn at a reduced price, and for

paper, when she had hoped to hoard it till a counter-revolution should

bring back gold and silver.

The farmers are now, perhaps, the greatest aristocrates in the country;

but as both their patriotism and their aristocracy have been a mere

calculation of interest, the severity exercised on their avarice is not

much to be regretted. The original fault is, however, in an usurped

government, which inspires no confidence, and which, to supply an

administration lavish beyond all example, has been obliged to issue such

an immense quantity of paper as nearly destroys its credit. In

political, as in moral, vices, the first always necessitates a second,

and these must still be sustained by others; until, at length, the very

sense of right and wrong becomes impaired, and the latter is not only

preferred from habit, but from choice.

Thus the arbitrary emission of paper has been necessarily followed by

still more arbitrary decrees to support it. For instance--the people

have been obliged to sell their corn at a stated price, which has again

been the source of various and general vexations. The farmers, irritated

by this measure, concealed their grain, or sold it privately, rather than

bring it to market.--Hence, some were supplied with bread, and others

absolutely in want of it. This was remedied by the interference of the

military, and a general search for corn has taken place in all houses

without exception, in order to discover if any was secreted; even our

bedchambers were examined on this occasion: but we begin to be so

accustomed to the visite domiciliaire, that we find ourselves suddenly

surrounded by the Garde Nationale, without being greatly alarmed.--I know

not how your English patriots, who are so enamoured of French liberty,

yet thunder with the whole force of their eloquence against the ingress

of an exciseman to a tobacco warehouse, would reconcile this domestic

inquisition; for the municipalities here violate your tranquillity in

this manner under any pretext they choose, and that too with an armed

cortege sufficient to undertake the siege of your house in form.

About fifteen departments are in insurrection, ostensibly in behalf of

the expelled Deputies; but I believe I am authorized in saying, it is by

no means the desire of the people at large to interfere. All who are

capable of reflection consider the dispute merely as a family quarrel,

and are not partial enough to either party to adopt its cause. The

tropps they have already raised have been collected by the personal

interest of the members who contrived to escape, or by an attempt of a

few of the royalists to make one half of the faction subservient to the

destruction of the other. If you judge of the principles of the nation

by the success of the Foederalists,* and the superiority of the

Convention, you will be extremely deceived; for it is demonstrable, that

neither the most zealous partizans of the ancient system, nor those of

the abolished constitution, have taken any share in the dispute; and the

departments most notoriously aristocratic have all signified their

adherence to the proceedings of the Assembly.

* On the 31st of May and 2d of June, the Convention, who had been

for some months struggling with the Jacobins and the municipality of

Paris, was surrounded by an armed force: the most moderate of the

Deputies (those distinguished by the name of Brissotins,) were

either menaced into a compliance with the measures of the opposite

faction, or arrested; others took flight, and, by representing the

violence and slavery in which the majority of the Convention was

holden, excited some of the departments to take arms in their

favour.--This contest, during its short existence, was called the

war of the Foederalists.--The result is well known.

Those who would gladly take an active part in endeavouring to establish a

good government, are averse from risking their lives and properties in

the cause of Brissot or Condorcet.--At Amiens, where almost every

individual is an aristocrate, the fugitive Deputies could not procure the

least encouragement, but the town would have received Dumouriez, and

proclaimed the King without opposition. But this schism in the

legislature is considered as a mere contest of banditti, about the

division of spoil, not calculated to excite an interest in those they

have plundered and oppressed.

The royalists who have been so mistaken as to make any effort on this

occasion, will, I fear, fall a sacrifice, having acted for the most part

without union or concert; and their junction with the Deputies renders

them suspicious, if not odious, to their own party. The extreme

difficulty, likewise, of communication between the departments, and the

strict watch observed over all travellers, form another obstacle to the

success of any attempt at present; and, on the whole, the only hope of

deliverance for the French seems to rest upon the allied armies and the

insurgents of La Vendee.

When I say this, I do not assert from prejudices, which often deceive,

nor from conjecture, that is always fallible; but from unexceptionable

information--from an intercourse with various ranks of people, and a

minute observance of all. I have scarcely met with a single person who

does not relate the progress of the insurgents in La Vendee with an air

of satisfaction, or who does not appear to expect with impatience the

surrender of Conde: and even their language, perhaps unconsciously,

betrays their sentiments, for I remark, they do not, when they speak of

any victory gained by the arms of the republic, say, Nous, or Notre

armee, but, Les Francais, and, Les troupes de la republique;--and that

always in a tone as though they were speaking of an enemy.--Adieu.

June 30, 1793.

Our modern travellers are mostly either sentimental or philosophical, or

courtly or political; and I do not remember to have read any who describe

the manner of living among the gentry and middle ranks of life in France.

I will, therefore, relieve your attention for a moment from our actual

distresses, and give you the picture of a day as usually passed by those

who have easy fortunes and no particular employment.--The social

assemblage of a whole family in the morning, as in England, is not very

common, for the French do not generally breakfast: when they do, it is

without form, and on fruit, bread, wine, and water, or sometimes coffee;

but tea is scarcely ever used, except by the sick. The morning is

therefore passed with little intercourse, and in extreme dishabille. The

men loiter, fiddle, work tapestry, and sometimes read, in a robe de

chambre, or a jacket and _"pantalons;"_ [Trowsers.] while the ladies,

equipped only in a short manteau and petticoat, visit their birds, knit,

or, more frequently, idle away the forenoon without doing any thing. It

is not customary to walk or make visits before dinner, and if by chance

any one calls, he is received in the bedchamber. At half past one or two

they dine, but without altering the negligence of their apparel, and the

business of the toilette does not begin till immediately after the

repast. About four, visits of ceremony begin, and may be made till six

or seven according to the season; but those who intend passing an evening

at any particular house, go before six, and the card parties generally

finish between eight and nine. People then adjourn to their supper

engagements, which are more common than those for dinner, and are, for

the most part, in different places, and considered as a separate thing

from the earlier amusements of the evening. They keep better hours than

the English, most families being in bed by half past ten. The theatres

are also regulated by these sober habits, and the dramatic

representations are usually over by nine.

A day passed in this manner is, as you may imagine, susceptible of much

ennui, and the French are accordingly more subject to it than

to any other complaint, and hold it in greatest dread than either

sickness or misfortune. They have no conception how one can remain two

hours alone without being ennuye a la mort; and but few, comparatively

speaking, read for amusement: you may enter ten houses without seeing a

book; and it is not to be wondered at that people, who make a point of

staying at home all the morning, yet do not read, are embarrassed with

the disposition of so much time.--It is this that occasions such a

general fondness for domestic animals, and so many barbarous musicians,

and male-workers of tapestry and tambour.

I cannot but attribute this littleness and dislike of morning exercise to

the quantity of animal food the French eat at night, and to going to rest

immediately after it, in consequence of which their activity is checked

by indigestions, and they feel heavy and uncomfortable for half the

succeeding day.--The French pique themselves on being a gayer nation than

the English; but they certainly must exclude their mornings from the

account, for the forlorn and neglected figure of a Frenchman till dinner

is a very antidote to chearfulness, especially if contrasted with the

animation of our countrymen, whose forenoon is passed in riding or

walking, and who make themselves at least decent before they appear even

in their own families.

The great difficulty the French have in finding amusement makes them

averse from long residences in the country, and it is very uncommon for

those who can afford only one house not to prefer a town; but those whose

fortune will admit of it, live about three months of the year in the

country, and the rest in the neighbouring town. This, indeed, as they

manage it, is no very considerable expence, for the same furniture often

serves for both habitations, and the one they quit being left empty,

requires no person to take charge of it, especially as house-breaking is

very uncommon in France; at least it was so before the revolution, when

the police was more strict, and the laws against robbers were more

severe.

You will say, I often describe the habits and manners of a nation so

frequently visited, as though I were writing from Kamschatka or Japan;

yet it is certain, as I have remarked above, that those who are merely

itinerant have not opportunities of observing the modes of familiar life

so well as one who is stationary, and travellers are in general too much

occupied by more important observations to enter into the minute and

trifling details which are the subject of my communications to you. But

if your attention be sometimes fatigued by occurrences or relations too

well known, or of too little consequence to be interesting, I claim some

merit in never having once described the proportions of a building, nor

given you the history of a town; and I might have contrived as well to

tax your patience by an erudite description, as a superficial reflection,

or a female remark. The truth is, my pen is generally guided by

circumstances as they rise, and my ideas have seldom any deeper origin

than the scene before me. I have no books here, and I am apt to think if

professed travellers were deprived of this resource, many learned

etymologies and much profound compilation would be lost to the modern

reader.

The insurgents of La Vendee continue to have frequent and decided

successes, but the insurrections in the other departments languish. The

avowed object of liberating the Convention is not calculated to draw

adherents, and if any better purpose be intended, while a faction are the

promoters of it, it will be regarded with too much suspicion to procure

any effectual movement. Yet, however partial and unconnected this revolt

may be, it is an object of great jealousy and inquietude: all the

addresses or petitions brought in favour of it are received with

disapprobation, and suppressed in the official bulletin of the

legislature; but those which express contrary sentiments are ordered to

be inserted with the usual terms of "applaudi, adopte, et mention

honorable."--In this manner the army and the people, who derive their

intelligence from these accounts (which are pasted up in the streets,)

are kept in ignorance of the real state of distant provinces, and, what

is still more important for the Convention, the communication of

examples, which they know so many are disposed to imitate, is retarded.

The people here are nearly in the same state they have been in for some

time--murmuring in secret, and submitting in public; expecting every

thing from that energy in others which they have not themselves, and

accumulating the discontents they are obliged to suppress. The

Convention call them the brave republicans of Amiens; but if their

bravery were as unequivocal as their aristocracy, they would soon be at

the gates of Paris. Even the first levies are not all departed for the

frontiers, and some who were prevailed on to go are already returned.--

All the necessaries of life are augmenting in price--the people complain,

pillage the shops and the markets one day, and want the next. Many of

the departments have opposed the recruiting much more decidedly than they

have ventured to do here; and it was not without inspiring terror by

numerous arrests, that the levies which were immediately necessary were

procured.--France offers no prospect but that of scarcity, disorder, and

oppression; and my friends begin to perceive that we have committed an

imprudence in remaining so long. No passports can now be obtained, and

we must, as well as several very respectable families still here, abide

the event of the war.

Some weeks have elapsed since I had letters from England, and those we

receive from the interior come open, or sealed with the seal of the

district. This is not peculiar to our letters, as being foreigners, but

the same unceremonious inspection is practised with the correspondence of

the French themselves. Thus, in this land of liberty, all epistolary

intercourse has ceased, except for mere matters of business; and though

in the declaration of the rights of man it be asserted, that every one is

entitled to write or print his thoughts, yet it is certain no person can

entrust a letter to the post, but at the risk of having it opened; nor

could Mr. Thomas Paine himself venture to express the slightest

disapprobation of the measures of government, without hazarding his

freedom, and, in the end, perhaps, his life. Even these papers, which I

reserve only for your amusement, which contain only the opinions of an

individual, and which never have been communicated, I am obliged to

conceal with the utmost circumspection; for should they happen to fall

into the hands of our domiciliary inquisitors, I should not, like your

English liberties, escape with the gentle correction of imprisonment, or

the pillory.--A man, who had murdered his wife, was lately condemned to

twenty years imprisonment only; but people are guillotined every day for

a simple discourse, or an inadvertent expression.--Yours.

Amiens, July 5, 1793.

It will be some consolation to the French, if, from the wreck of their

civil liberty, they be able to preserve the mode of administering justice

as established by the constitution of 1789. Were I not warranted by the

best information, I should not venture an opinion on the subject without

much diffidence, but chance has afforded me opportunities that do not

often occur to a stranger, and the new code appears to me, in many parts,

singularly excellent, both as to principle and practice.--Justice is here

gratuitous--those who administer it are elected by the people--they

depend only on their salaries, and have no fees whatever. Reasonable

allowances are made to witnesses both for time and expences at the public

charge--a loss is not doubled by the costs of a prosecution to recover

it. In cases of robbery, where property found is detained for the sake

of proof, it does not become the prey of official rapacity, but an

absolute restitution takes place.--The legislature has, in many respects,

copied the laws of England, but it has simplified the forms, and

rectified those abuses which make our proceedings in some cases almost as

formidable to the prosecutor as to the culprit. Having to compose an

entire new system, and being unshackled by professional reverence for

precedents, they were at liberty to benefit by example, to reject those

errors which have been long sanctioned by their antiquity, and are still

permitted to exist, through our dread of innovation. The French,

however, made an attempt to improve on the trial by jury, which I think

only evinces that the institution as adopted in England is not to be

excelled. The decision is here given by ballot--unanimity is not

required--and three white balls are sufficient to acquit the prisoner.

This deviation from our mode seems to give the rich an advantage over the

poor. I fear, that, in the number of twelve men taken from any country,

it may sometimes happen that three may be found corruptible: now the

wealthy delinquent can avail himself of this human failing; but, "through

tatter'd robes small vices do appear," and the indigent sinner has less

chance of escaping than another.

It is to be supposed, that, at this time, the vigour of the criminal laws

is much relaxed, and their execution difficult. The army offers refuge

and impunity to guilt of all kinds, and the magistrates themselves would

be apprehensive of pursuing an offender who was protected by the mob, or,

which is the same thing, by the Jacobins.

The groundwork of much of the French civil jurisprudence is arbitration,

particularly in those trifling processes which originate in a spirit of

litigation; and it is not easy for a man here, however well disposed, to

spend twenty pounds in a contest about as many pence, or to ruin himself

in order to secure the possession of half an acre of land. In general,

redress is easily obtained without unnecessary procrastination, and with

little or no cost. Perhaps most legal codes may be simple and

efficacious at their first institution, and the circumstance of their

being encumbered with forms which render them complex and expensive, may

be the natural consequence of length of time and change of manners.

Littleton might require no commentary in the reign of Henry II. and the

mysterious fictions that constitute the science of modern judicature were

perhaps familiar, and even necessary, to our ancestors. It is to be

regretted that we cannot adapt our laws to the age in which we live, and

assimilate them to our customs; but the tendency of our nature to

extremes perpetuates evils, and makes both the wise and the timid enemies

to reform. We fear, like John Calvin, to tear the habit while we are

stripping off the superfluous decoration; and the example of this country

will probably long act as a discouragement to all change, either judicial

or political. The very name of France will repress the desire of

innovation--we shall cling to abuses as though they were our support, and

every attempt to remedy them will become an objection of suspicion and

terror.--Such are the advantages which mankind will derive from the

French revolution.

The Jacobin constitution is now finished, and, as far as I am able to

judge, it is what might be expected from such an origin: calculated to

flatter the people with an imaginary sovereignty--to place the whole

power of election in the class most easily misled--to exclude from the

representation those who have a natural interest in the welfare of the

country, and to establish the reign of anarchy and intrigue.--Yet,

however averse the greater number of the French may be from such a

constitution, no town or district has dared to reject it; and I remark,

that amongst those who have been foremost in offering their acceptation,

are many of the places most notoriously aristocratic. I have enquired of

some of the inhabitants of these very zealous towns on what principle

they acted so much in opposition to their known sentiments: the reply is

always, that they fear the vengeance of the Jacobins, and that they are

awed by military force. This reasoning is, of course, unanswerable; and

we learn, from the debates of the Convention, that the people have

received the new constitution _"avec la plus vive reconnoissance,"_

["With the most lively gratitude."] and that they have all sworn to die

in its defence.--Yours, &c.

July 14, 1793.

The return of this day cannot but suggest very melancholy reflections to

all who are witnesses of the changes which a single year has produced.

In twelve months only the government of France has been overturned, her

commerce destroyed, the country depopulated to raise armies, and the

people deprived of bread to support them. A despotism more absolute than

that of Turkey is established, the manners of the nation are corrupted,

and its moral character is disgraced in the eyes of all Europe. A

barbarous rage has laid waste the fairest monuments of art--whatever

could embellish society, or contribute to soften existence, has

disappeared under the reign of these modern Goths--even the necessaries

of life are becoming rare and inadequate to the consumption--the rich are

plundered and persecuted, yet the poor are in want--the national credit

is in the last stage of debasement, yet an immense debt is created, and

daily accumulating; and apprehension, distrust, and misery, are almost

universal.--All this is the work of a set of adventurers who are now

divided among themselves--who are accusing each other of those crimes

which the world imputes to them all--and who, conscious they can no

longer deceive the nation, now govern with the fear and suspicion of

tyrants. Every thing is sacrificed to the army and Paris, and the people

are robbed of their subsistence to supply an iniquitous metropolis, and a

military force that awes and oppresses them.

The new constitution has been received here officially, but no one seems

to take the least interest in it: it is regarded in just the same light

as a new tax, or any other ministerial mandate, not sent to be discussed

but obeyed. The mode of proclaiming it conveyed a very just idea of its

origin and tendency. It was placed on a cushion, supported by Jacobins

in their red caps, and surrounded by dragoons. It seemed the image of

Anarchy, guarded by Despotism.--In this manner they paraded the town, and

the "sacred volume" was then deposed on an altar erected on the Grande

Place.--The Garde Nationale, who were ordered to be under arms, attended,

and the constitution was read. A few of the soldiers cried "Vive la

republique!" and every one returned home with countenances in which

delight was by no means the prevailing expression.

A trifling incident which I noticed on this occasion, will serve, among

others of the same kind that I could enumerate, to prove that even the

very lower class of the people begin to ridicule and despise their

legislators. While a municipal officer was very gravely reading the

constitution, an ass forced his way across the square, and placed himself

near the spot where the ceremony was performing: a boy, who was under our

window, on observing it, cried out, "Why don't they give him the

_accolade fraternelle!"_*

* Fraternal embrace.--This is the reception given by the President

to any one whom the Convention wish particularly to distinguish. On

an occasion of the sort, the fraternal embrace was given to an old

Negress.--The honours of the fitting are also daily accorded to

deputations of fish-women, chimney-sweepers, children, and all whose

missions are flattering. There is no homage so mean as not to

gratify the pride of those to whom dominion is new; and these

expressions are so often and so strangely applied, that it is not

surprizing they are become the cant phrases of the mob.

--"Yes, (rejoined another,) and admit him _aux honneurs de la feance."_

[To the honours of the fitting.] This disposition to jest with their

misfortunes is, however, not so common as it was formerly. A bon mot may

alleviate the loss of a battle, and a lampoon on the court solace under

the burthen of a new impost; but the most thoughtless or improvident can

find nothing very facetious in the prospect of absolute want--and those

who have been used to laugh under a circumscription of their political

liberty, feel very seriously the evil of a government which endows its

members with unlimited power, and enables a Deputy, often the meanest and

most profligate character of his department, to imprison all who, from

caprice, interest, or vengeance, may have become the objects of his

persecution.

I know this will appear so monstrous to an Englishman, that, had I an

opportunity of communicating such a circumstance before it were publicly

authenticated, you would suppose it impossible, and imagine I had been

mistaken, or had written only from report; it is nevertheless true, that

every part of France is infested by these Commissioners, who dispose,

without appeal, of the freedom and property of the whole department to

which they are sent. It frequently happens, that men are delegated to

places where they have resided, and thus have an opportunity of

gratifying their personal malice on all who are so unfortunate as to be

obnoxious to them. Imagine, for a moment, a village-attorney acting with

uncontrouled authority over the country where he formerly exercised his

profession, and you will have some idea of what passes here, except that

I hope no class of men in England are so bad as those which

compose the major part of the National Convention.--Yours, &c.

July 23, 1793.