French refinements are not, however, of this poetical kind.*

* This too great facility of the Parisians has been commented upon

by an anonymous writer in the following terms:

"At Paris, where more than fifty victims were dragged daily to the

scaffold, the theatres never failed to overflow, and that on the

Place de la Revolution was not the least frequented. The public, in

their way every evening to the Champs Ellisees, continued

uninterruptedly to cross the stream of blood that deluged this fatal

spot with the most dreadful indifference; and now, though these days

of horror are scarcely passed over our heads, one would suppose them

ages removed--so little are we sensible that we are dancing, as it

were, on a platform of dead bodies. Well may we say, respecting

those events which have not reached ourselves--

_'Le malheur Qui n'est plus, n'a jamais existe.'_

But if we desire earnestly that the same misfortunes should not

return, we must keep them always present in our recollection."

The practice of the government appears to depart every day more widely

from its professions; and the moderate harangues of the tribune are often

succeeded by measures as arbitrary as those which are said to be

exploded.--Perhaps the Convention begin to perceive their mistake in

supposing that they can maintain a government against the inclination of

the people, without the aid of tyranny. They expected at the same time

that they decried Robespierre, to retain all the power he possessed.

Hence, their assumed principles and their conduct are generally at

variance; and, divided between despotism and weakness, they arrest the

printers of pamphlets and newspapers one day, and are obliged to liberate

them the next.--They exclaim publicly against the system of terror, yet

secretly court the assistance of its agents.--They affect to respect the

liberty of the press, yet every new publication has to defend itself

against the whole force of the government, if it happen to censure a

single member of the reigning party.--Thus, the _Memoirs of Dumouriez_

had circulated nearly through all Europe, yet it was not without much

risk, and after a long warfare, that they were printed in France.*

*On this subject the government appears sometimes to have adopted

the maxim--that prevention is better than punishment; for, in

several instances, they seized on manuscripts, and laid embargoes on

the printers' presses, where they only suspected that a work which

they might disapprove was intended to be published.

I know not if it be attributable to these political inconsistencies that

the calm which has succeeded the late disorders is little more than

external. The minds of the people are uncommonly agitated, and every one

expresses either hope or apprehension of some impending event. The

royalists, amidst their ostensible persecutions, are particularly elated;

and I have been told, that many conspicuous revolutionists already talk

of emigration.

I am just returned from a day's ramble, during which I have met with

various subjects of unpleasant meditation. About dinner-time I called on

an old Chevalier de St. Louis and his lady, who live in the Fauxbourg

St. Germain. When I knew them formerly, they had a handsome annuity on

the Hotel de Ville, and were in possession of all the comforts necessary

to their declining years. To-day the door was opened by a girl of dirty

appearance, the house looked miserable, the furniture worn, and I found

the old couple over a slender meal of soup maigre and eggs, without wine

or bread. Our revolutionary adventures, as is usual on all meetings of

this kind, were soon communicated; and I learned, that almost before they

knew what was passing around them, Monsieur du G--------'s forty years'

service, and his croix, had rendered him suspected, and that he and his

wife were taken from their beds at midnight and carried to prison. Here

they consumed their stock of ready money, while a guard, placed in their

house, pillaged what was moveable, and spoiled what could not be

pillaged. Soon after the ninth of Thermidor they were released, but they

returned to bare walls, and their annuity, being paid in assignats, now

scarcely affords them a subsistence.--Monsieur du G-------- is near

seventy, and Madame is become helpless from a nervous complaint, the

effect of fear and confinement; and if this depreciation of the paper

should continue, these poor people may probably die of absolute want.

I dined with a relation of the Marquise's, and in the afternoon we called

by appointment on a person who is employed by the Committee of National

Domains, and who has long promised my friend to facilitate the adjustment

of some of the various claims which the government has on her property.

This man was originally a valet to the brother of the Marquise: at the

revolution he set up a shop, became a bankrupt, and a furious Jacobin,

and, in the end, a member of a Revolutionary Committee. In the last

capacity he found means to enrich himself, and intimidate his creditors

so as to obtain a discharge of his debts, without the trouble of paying

them.*

* "It was common for men in debt to procure themselves to be made

members of a revolutionary committee, and then force their creditors

to give them a receipt in full, under the fear of being imprisoned."

Clauzel's Report, Oct. 13, 1794.

I am myself acquainted with an old lady, who was confined four

months, for having asked one of these patriots for three hundred

livres which he owed her.

--Since the dissolution of the Committees, he has contrived to obtain the

situation I have mentioned, and now occupies superb apartments in an

hotel, amply furnished with the proofs of his official dexterity, and the

perquisites of patriotism.

The humiliating vicissitudes occasioned by the revolution induced Madame

de la F-------- to apply to this democratic _parvenu,_ [Upstart.] whose

office at present gives him the power, and whose former obligations to

her family (by whom he was brought up) she hoped would add the

disposition, to serve her.--The gratitude she expected has, however,

ended only in delays and disappointments, and the sole object of my

commission was to get some papers which she had entrusted to him out of

his possession.

When we enquired if the Citizen was at home, a servant, not in livery,

informed us Monsieur was dressing, but that if we would walk in, he would

let Monsieur know we were there. We passed through a dining parlour,

where we saw the remains of a dessert, coffee, &c. and were assailed by

the odours of a plentiful repast. As we entered the saloon, we heard the

servant call at the door of an adjoining parlour, _"Monsieur, voici deux

Citoyennes et un Citoyen qui vous demandent."_ ["Sir, here are two female

citizens and one male citizen enquiring for you."] When Monsieur

appeared, he apologized with an air of graciousness for the impossibility

he had been under of getting my friend's affairs arranged--protested he

was _accable_ [Oppressed..]--that he had scarcely an instant at his own

disposal--that _enfin_ the responsibility of people in office was so

terrible, and the fatigue so _assommante,_ [Overpowering.] that nothing

but the purest _civism,_ and a heart _penetre de l'amour de la patrie,_

[Penetrated with the love of his country.] could enable him to persevere

in the task imposed on him. As for the papers we required, he would

endeavour to find them, though his cabinet was really so filled with

petitions and certificates of all sorts, _que des malheureux lui avoient

addresses,_ [Addressed to him by unfortunate people.] that it would not

be very easy to find them at present; and, with this answer, which we

should have smiled at from M. de Choiseul or Sartine, we were obliged to

be satisfied. We then talked of the news of the day, and he lamented

that the aristocrats were still restless and increasing in number, and

that notwithstanding the efforts of the Convention to diffuse a spirit of

philosophy, it was too evident there was yet much fanaticism among the

people.

As we rose to depart, Madame entered, dressed for visiting, and decorated

with bracelets on her wrists and above her elbows, medallions on her

waists and neck, and, indeed, finery wherever it could possibly be

bestowed. We observed her primitive condition of a waiting-woman still

operated, and that far from affecting the language of her husband, she

retained a great deference for rank, and was solicitous to insinuate that

she was secretly of a superior way of thinking. As we left the room

together, she made advances to an acquaintance with my companions (who

were people of condition); and having occasion to speak to a person at

the door, as she uttered the word _Citoyen_ she looked at us with an

expression which she intended should imply the contempt and reluctance

with which she made use of it.

I have in general remarked, that the republicans are either of the

species I have just been describing, waiters, jockies, gamblers,

bankrupts, and low scribblers, living in great splendour, or men taken

from laborious professions, more sincere in their principles, more

ignorant and brutal--and who dissipate what they have gained in gross

luxury, because they have been told that elegance and delicacy are worthy

only of Sybarites, and that the Greeks and Romans despised both. These

patriots are not, however, so uninformed, nor so disinterested, as to

suppose they are to serve their country without serving themselves; and

they perfectly understand, that the rich are their legal patrimony, and

that it is enjoined them by their mission to pillage royalists and

aristocrats.*

--Yours.

* Garat observes, it was a maxim of Danton, _"Que ceux qui fesaient

les affaires de la republique devaient aussi faireles leurs,"_ that

who undertook the care of the republic should also take care of

themselves. This tenet, however, seems common to the friends of

both.

Paris, June 6, 1795.

I had scarcely concluded my last, when I received advice of the death of

Madame de la F--------; and though I have, almost from the time we

quitted the Providence, thought she was declining, and that such an event

was probable, it has, nevertheless, both shocked and grieved me.

Exclusively of her many good and engaging qualities, which were

reasonable objects of attachment, Madame de la F-------- was endeared to

me by those habits of intimacy that often supply the want of merit, and

make us adhere to our early friendships, even when not sanctioned by our

maturer judgment. Madame de la F-------- never became entirely divested

of the effects of a convent education; but if she retained a love of

trifling amusements, and a sort of infantine gaiety, she likewise

continued pious, charitable, and strictly attentive not only to the

duties, but to the decorum, essential in the female character and merits

of this sort are, I believe, now more rare than those in which she might

be deemed deficient.

I was speaking of her this morning to a lady of our acquaintance, who

acquiesced in my friendly eulogiums, but added, in a tone of superiority,

_"C'etoit pourtant une petite femme bien minutieuse_--she always put me

out of patience with her birds and her flowers, her levees of poor

people, and her persevering industry in frivolous projects." My friend

was, indeed, the most feminine creature in the world, and this is a

flippant literary lady, who talks in raptures of the Greeks and Romans,

calls Rousseau familiarly Jean Jaques, frisks through the whole circle of

science at the Lyceum, and has an utter contempt both for personal

neatness and domestic oeconomy. How would Madame de Sevigne wonder,

could she behold one of these modern belles esprits, with which her

country, as well as England, abounds? In our zeal for reforming the

irregular orthography and housewifely penmanship of the last century, we

are all become readers, and authors, and critics. I do not assert, that

the female mind is too much cultivated, but that it is too generally so;

and that we encourage a taste for attainments not always compatible with

the duties and occupations of domestic life. No age has, I believe,

produced so many literary ladies as the present;* yet I cannot learn that

we are at all improved in morals, or that domestic happiness is more

universal than when, instead of writing sonnets to dew-drops or

daisies,** we copied prayers and recipes, in spelling similar to that of

Stowe or Hollingshed.

* Let me not be supposed to undervalue the female authors of the

present day. There are some who, uniting great talents with

personal worth, are justly entitled to our respect and admiration.

The authoress of "Cecilia," or the Miss Lees, cannot be confounded

with the proprietors of all the Castles, Forests, Groves, Woods,

Cottages, and Caverns, which are so alluring in the catalogue of a

circulating library.

** Mrs. Smith's beautiful Sonnets have produced sonnetteers for

every object in nature, visible or invisible; and her elegant

translations of Petrarch have procured the Italian bard many an

English dress that he would have been ashamed to appear in.

--We seem industrious to make every branch of education a vehicle for

inspiring a premature taste for literary amusements; and our old

fashioned moral adages in writing-books are replaced by scraps from

"Elegant Extracts," while print-work and embroidery represent scenes from

poems or novels. I allow, that the subjects formerly pourtrayed by the

needle were not pictoresque, yet, the tendency considered, young ladies

might as well employ their silk or pencils in exhibiting Daniel in the

lions' den, or Joseph and his brethren, as Sterne's Maria, or Charlotte

and Werter.

You will forgive this digression, which I have been led into on hearing

the character of Madame de la F-------- depreciated, because she was only

gentle and amiable, and did not read Plutarch, nor hold literary

assemblies. It is, in truth, a little amende I owe her memory, for I may

myself have sometimes estimated her too lightly, and concluded my own

pursuits more rational than hers, when possibly they were only different.

Her death has left an impression on my mind, which the turbulence of

Paris is not calculated to soothe; but the short time we have to stay,

and the number of people I must see, oblige me to conquer both my regret

and my indolence, and to pass a great part of the day in running from

place to place.

I have been employed all this morning in executing some female

commissions, which, of course, led me to milliners, mantua-makers, &c.

These people now recommend fashions by saying one thing is invented by

Tallien's wife, and another by Merlin de Thionville, or some other

Deputy's mistress; and the genius of these elegantes has contrived, by a

mode of dressing the hair which lengthens the neck, and by robes with an

inch of waist, to give their countrywomen an appearance not much unlike

that of a Bar Gander.

I saw yesterday a relation of Madame de la F--------, who is in the army,

and whom I formerly mentioned as having met when we passed through

Dourlens. He was for some months suspended, and in confinement, but is

now restored to his rank, and ordered on service. He asked me if I ever

intended to visit France again. I told him I had so little reason to be

satisfied with my treatment, that I did not imagine I should.--"Yes,

(returned he,) but if the republic should conquer Italy, and bring all

its treasures to Paris, as has lately been suggested in the Convention,

we shall tempt you to return, in spite of yourself."*

*The project of pillaging Italy of its most valuable works of art

was suggested by the philosophic Abbe Gregoire, a constitutional

Bishop, as early as September 1794, because, as he alledged, the

chefs d'ouvres of the Greek republic ought not to embellish a

country of slaves.

--I told him, I neither doubted their intending such a scheme, nor the

possibility of its success, though it was not altogether worthy of

philosophers and republicans to wage war for Venus's and Appollos, and to

sacrifice the lives of one part of their fellow-citizens, that the rest

might be amused with pictures and statues.--"That's not our affair (says

Monsieur de --------). Soldiers do not reason. And if the Convention

should have a fancy to pillage the Emperor of China's palace, I see no

remedy but to set sail with the first fair wind,"--"I wish, (said his

sister, who was the only person present,) instead of being under such

orders, you had escaped from the service." "Yes, (returned the General

quickly,) and wander about Europe like Dumouriez, suspected and despised

by all parties." I observed, Dumouriez was an adventurer, and that on

many accounts it was necessary to guard against him. He said, he did not

dispute the necessity or even the justice of the conduct observed towards

him, but that nevertheless I might be assured it had operated as an

effectual check to those who might, otherwise, have been tempted to

follow Dumouriez's example; "And we have now (added he, in a tone between

gaiety and despair,) no alternative but obedience or the guillotine."--I

have transcribed the substance of this conversation, as it confirms what

I have frequently been told, that the fate of Dumouriez, however merited,

is one great cause why no desertion of importance has since taken place.

I was just now interrupted by a noise and shouting near my window, and

could plainly distinguish the words Scipio and Solon uttered in a tone of

taunt and reproach. Not immediately comprehending how Solon or Scipio

could be introduced in a fray at Paris, I dispatched Angelique to make

enquiry; and at her return I learned that a croud of boys were following

a shoemaker of the neighbourhood, who, while he was member of a

revolutionary Committee, had chosen to unite in his person the glories of

both Rome and Greece, of the sword and gown, and had taken unto himself

the name of Scipio Solon. A decree of the Convention some weeks since

enjoined all such heroes and sages to resume their original appellations,

and forbade any person, however ardent his patriotism, to distinguish

himself by the name of Brutus, Timoleon, or any other but that which he

derived from his Christian parents. The people, it seems, are not so

obedient to the decree as those whom it more immediately concerns; and as

the above-mentioned Scipio Solon had been detected in various larcenies,

he is not allowed to quit his shop without being reproached with his

thefts, and his Greek and Roman appellations.

--I am, &c.

Paris, June 8, 1795.

Yesterday being Sunday, and to-day the Decade, we have had two holidays

successively, though, since the people have been more at liberty to

manifest their opinions, they give a decided preference to the Christian

festival over that of the republic.*

* This was only at Paris, where the people, from their number, are

less manageable, and of course more courageous. In the departments,

the same cautious timidity prevailed, and appeared likely to

continue.

--They observe the former from inclination, and the latter from

necessity; so that between the performance of their religious duties, and

the sacrifice to their political fears, a larger portion of time will be

deducted from industry than was gained by the suppression of the Saints'

days. The Parisians, however, seem to acquiesce very readily in this

compromise, and the philosophers of the Convention, who have so often

declaimed against the idleness occasioned by the numerous fetes of the

old calendar, obstinately persist in the adoption of a new one, which

increases the evil they pretend to remedy.

If the people are to be taken from their labour for such a number of

days, it might as well be in the name of St. Genevieve or St. Denis, as

of the Decade, and the Saints'-days have at least this advantage, that

the forenoons are passed in churches; whereas the republican festivals,

dedicated one to love, another to stoicism, and so forth, not conveying

any very determinate idea, are interpreted to mean only an obligation to

do nothing, or to pass some supernumerary hours at the cabaret.

[Alehouse.]

I noticed with extreme pleasure yesterday, that as many of the places of

public worship as are permitted to be open were much crouded, and that

religion appears to have survived the loss of those exterior allurements

which might be supposed to have rendered it peculiarly attractive to the

Parisians. The churches at present, far from being splendid, are not

even decent, the walls and windows still bear traces of the Goths (or, if

you will, the philosophers,) and in some places service is celebrated

amidst piles of farage, sacks, casks, or lumber appertaining to the

government--who, though they have by their own confession the disposal of

half the metropolis, choose the churches in preference for such

purposes.*

* It has frequently been asserted in the Convention, that by

emigrations, banishments, and executions, half Paris had become the

property of the public.

--Yet these unseemly and desolate appearances do not prevent the

attendance of congregations more numerous, and, I think, more fervent,

than were usual when the altars shone with the offerings of wealth, and

the walls were covered with the more interesting decorations of pictures

and tapestry.

This it is not difficult to account for. Many who used to perform these

religious duties with negligence, or indifference, are now become pious,

and even enthusiastic--and this not from hypocrisy or political

contradiction, but from a real sense of the evils of irreligion, produced

by the examples and conduct of those in whom such a tendency has been

most remarkable.--It must, indeed, be acknowledged, that did Christianity

require an advocate, a more powerful one need not be found, than in a

retrospect of the crimes and sufferings of the French since its

abolition.

Those who have made fortunes by the revolution (for very few have been

able to preserve them) now begin to exhibit equipages; and they hope to

render the people blind to this departure from their visionary systems of

equality, by foregoing the use of arms and liveries--as if the real

difference between the rich and the poor was not constituted rather by

essential accommodation, than extrinsic embellishments, which perhaps do

not gratify the eyes of the possessor a second time, and are, probably of

all branches of luxury, the most useful. The livery of servants can be

of very little importance, whether morally or politically considered--it

is the act of maintaining men in idleness, who might be more profitably

employed, that makes the keeping a great number exceptionable; nor is a

man more degraded by going behind a carriage with a hat and feather, than

with a bonnet de police, or a plain beaver; but he eats just as much, and

earns just as little, equipped as a Carmagnole, as though glittering in

the most superb gala suit.*

* In their zeal to imitate the Roman republicans, the French seem to

forget that a political consideration very different from the love

of simplicity, or an idea of the dignity of man, made the Romans

averse from distinguishing their slaves by any external indication.

They were so numerous that it was thought impolitic to furnish them

with such means of knowing their own strength in case of a revolt.

The marks of service cannot be more degrading than service itself; and it

is the mere chicane of philosophy to extend reform only to cuffs and

collars, while we do not dispense with the services annexed to them. A

valet who walks the street in his powdering jacket, disdains a livery as

much as the fiercest republican, and with as much reason--for there is no

more difference between domestic occupation performed in one coat or

another, than there is between the party-coloured habit and the jacket.

If the luxury of carriages be an evil, it must be because the horses

employed in them consume the produce of land which might be more

beneficially cultivated: but the gilding, fringe, salamanders, and lions,

in all their heraldic positions, afford an easy livelihood to

manufacturers and artisans, who might not be capable of more laborious

occupations.

I believe it will generally be found, that most of the republican reforms

are of this description--calculated only to impose on the people, and

disguising, by frivolous prohibitions, their real inutility. The

affectation of simplicity in a nation already familiarized with luxury,

only tends to divert the wealth of the rich to purposes which render it

more destructive. Vanity and ostentation, when they are excluded from

one means of gratification, will always seek another; and those who,

having the means, cannot distinguish themselves by ostensible splendour,

will often do so by domestic profusion.*

* "Sectaries (says Walpole in his Anecdotes of Painting, speaking of

the republicans under Cromwell) have no ostensible enjoyments; their

pleasures are private, comfortable and gross. The arts of civilized

society are not calculated for men who mean to rise on the ruins of

established order." Judging by comparison, I am persuaded these

observations are yet more applicable to the political, than the

religious opinions of the English republicans of that period; for,

in these respects, there is no difference between them and the

French of the present day, though there is a wide one between an

Anabaptist and the disciples of Boulanger and Voltaire.

--Nor can it well be disputed, that a gross luxury is more pernicious

than an elegant one; for the former consumes the necessaries of life

wantonly, while the latter maintains numerous hands in rendering things

valuable by the workmanship which are little so in themselves.

Every one who has been a reflecting spectator of the revolution will

acknowledge the justice of these observations. The agents and retainers

of government are the general monopolizers of the markets, and these men,

who are enriched by peculation, and are on all occasions retailing the

cant phrases of the Convention, on the _purete des moeurs republicains,

et la luxe de la ci-devant Noblesse,_ [The purity of republican manners,

and the luxury of the ci-devant Noblesse.] exhibit scandalous exceptions

to the national habits of oeconomy, at a time too when others more

deserving are often compelled to sacrifice even their essential

accommodations to a more rigid compliance with them.*

* Lindet, in a report on the situation of the republic, declares,

that since the revolution the consumption of wines and every article

of luxury has been such, that very little has been left for

exportation. I have selected the following specimens of republican

manners, from many others equally authentic, as they may be of some

utility to those who would wish to estimate what the French have

gained in this respect by a change of government.

"In the name of the French people the Representatives sent to

Commune Affranchie (Lyons) to promote the felicity of its

inhabitants, order the Committee of Sequestration to send them

immediately two hundred bottles of the best wine that can be

procured, also five hundred bottles of claret, of prime quality, for

their own table. For this purpose the commission are authorized to

take of the sequestration, wherever the above wine can be found.

Done at Commune Affranchie, thirteenth Nivose, second year.

(Signed) "Albitte,

"Fouche,

"Deputies of the National Convention."

Extract of a denunciation of Citizen Boismartin against Citizen

Laplanche, member of the National Convention:

"The twenty-fourth of Brumaire, in the second year of the republic,

the Administrators of the district of St. Lo gave orders to the

municipality over which I at that time presided, to lodge the

Representative of the people, Laplanche, and General Siphert, in the

house of Citizen Lemonnier, who was then under arrest at Thorigni.

In introducing one of the founders of the republic, and a French

General, into this hospitable mansion, we thought to put the

property of our fellow-citizen under the safeguard of all the

virtues; but, alas, how were we mistaken! They had no sooner

entered the house, than the provisions of every sort, the linen,

clothes, furniture, trinkets, books, plate, carriages, and even

title-deeds, all disappeared; and, as if they purposely insulted our

wretchedness, while we were reduced to the sad necessity of

distributing with a parsimonious hand a few ounces of black bread to

our fellow-citizens, the best bread, pillaged from Citizen

Lemonnier, was lavished by buckets full to the horses of General

Siphert, and the Representative Laplanche.--The Citizen Lemonnier,

who is seventy years of age, having now recovered his liberty, which

he never deserved to lose, finds himself so entirely despoiled, that

he is at present obliged to live at an inn; and, of property to the

amount of sixty thousand livres, he has nothing left but a single

spoon, which he took with him when carried to one of the Bastilles

in the department de la Manche."

The chief defence of Laplanche consisted in allegations that the

said Citizen Lemonnier was rich, and a royalist, and that he had

found emblems of royalism and fanaticism about the house.

At the house of one of our common friends, I met --------, and so little

did I imagine that he had escaped all the revolutionary perils to which

he had been exposed, that I could almost have supposed myself in the

regions of the dead, or that he had been permitted to quit them, for his

being alive scarcely seemed less miraculous or incredible. As I had not

seen him since 1792, he gave me a very interesting detail of his

adventures, and his testimony corroborates the opinion generally

entertained by those who knew the late King, that he had much personal

courage, and that he lost his crown and his life by political indecision,

and an humane, but ill-judged, unwillingness to reduce his enemies by

force. He assured me, the Queen might have been conveyed out of France

previous to the tenth of August, if she would have agreed to leave the

King and her children behind; that she had twice consulted him on the

subject; but, persisting in her resolution not to depart unaccompanied by

her family, nothing practicable could be devised, and she determined to

share their fate.*

* The gentleman here alluded to has great talents, and is

particularly well acquainted with some of the most obscure and

disastrous periods of the French revolution. I have reason to

believe, whenever it is consistent with his own safety, he will, by

a genuine relation, expose many of the popular falsehoods by which

the public have been misled.

This, as well as many other instances of tenderness and heroism, which

distinguished the Queen under her misfortunes, accord but ill with the

vices imputed to her; and were not such imputations encouraged to serve

the cause of faction, rather than that of morality, these inconsistencies

would have been interpreted in her favour, and candour have palliated or

forgotten the levities of her youth, and remembered only the sorrows and

the virtues by which they were succeeded.

I had, in compliance with your request on my first arrival in France,

made a collection of prints of all the most conspicuous actors in the

revolution; but as they could not be secreted so easily as other papers,

my fears overcame my desire of obliging you, and I destroyed them

successively, as the originals became proscribed or were sacrificed.

Desirous of repairing my loss, I persuaded some friends to accompany me

to a shop, kept by a man of whom they frequently purchased, and whom, as

his principles were known to them, I might safely ask for the articles I

wanted. He shook his head, while he ran over my list, and then told me,

that having preferred his safety to his property, he had disposed of his

prints in the same way I had disposed of mine. "At the accession of a

new party, (continued he,) I always prepare for a domiciliary visit,

clear my windows and shelves of the exploded heads, and replace them by

those of their rivals. Nay, I assure you, since the revolution, our

trade is become as precarious as that of a gamester. The

Constitutionalists, indeed, held out pretty well, but then I was half

ruined by the fall of the Brissotins; and, before I could retrieve a

little by the Hebertists and Dantonists, the too were out of fashion."--

"Well, but the Robespierrians--you must have gained by them?"--"Why,

true; Robespierre and Marat, and Chalier, answered well enough, because

the royalists generally placed them in their houses to give themselves an

air of patriotism, yet they are gone after the rest.--Here, however,

(says he, taking down an engraving of the Abbe Sieyes,) is a piece of

merchandize that I have kept through all parties, religions, and

constitutions--_et le voila encore a la mode,_ ["And now you see him in

fashion again."] mounted on the wrecks, and supported by the remnants of

both his friends and enemies. _Ah! c'est un fin matois."_ ["Ah! He's a

knowing one."]

This conversation passed in a gay tone, though the man added, very

seriously, that the instability of popular factions, and their

intolerance towards each other, had obliged him to destroy to the amount

of some thousand livres, and that he intended, if affairs did not change,

to quit business.

Of all the prints I enquired for, I only got Barrere, Sieyes, and a few

others of less note. Your last commissions I have executed more

successfully, for though the necessaries of life are almost

unpurchaseable, articles of taste, books, perfumery, &c. are cheaper than

ever. This is unfortunately the reverse of what ought to be the case,

but the augmentation in the price of provisions is to be accounted for in

various ways, and that things of the description I allude to do not bear

a price in proportion is doubtless to be attributed to the present

poverty of those who used to be the purchasers of them; while the people

who are become rich under the new government are of a description to seek

for more substantial luxuries than books and essences.--I should however

observe, that the venders of any thing not perishable, and who are not

forced to sell for their daily subsistence, are solicitous to evade every

demand for any article which is to be paid for in assignats.

I was looking at some trinkets in a shop at the Palais Royal, and on my

asking the mistress of it if the ornaments were silver, she smiled

significantly, and replied, she had nothing silver nor gold in the shop,

but if I chose to purchase _en espece,_ she would show me whatever I

desired: _"Mais pour le papier nous n'en avons que trop."_ ["In coin, but

for paper we have already too much of it."]

Many of the old shops are nearly empty, and the little trade which yet

exists is carried on by a sort of adventurers who, without being bred to

any one trade, set up half a dozen, and perhaps disappear three months

afterwards. They are, I believe, chiefly men who have speculated on the

assignats, and as soon as they have turned their capital in a mercantile

way a short time, become apprehensive of the paper, realize it, and

retire; or, becoming bankrupts by some unlucky monopoly, begin a new

career of patriotism.

There is, properly speaking, no money in circulation, yet a vast quantity

is bought and sold. Annuitants, possessors of moderate landed property,

&c., finding it impossible to subsist on their incomes, are forced to

have recourse to the little specie they have reserved, and exchange it

for paper. Immense sums in coin are purchased by the government, to make

good the balance of their trade with the neutral countries for

provisions, so that I should suppose, if this continue a few months, very

little will be left in the country.

One might be tempted to fancy there is something in the atmosphere of

Paris which adapts the minds of its inhabitants to their political

situation. They talk of the day appointed for a revolt a fortnight

before, as though it were a fete, and the most timid begin to be inured

to a state of agitation and apprehension, and to consider it as a natural

vicissitude that their lives should be endangered periodically.

A commission has been employed for some time in devising another new

constitution, which is to be proposed to the Assembly on the thirteenth

of this month; and on that day, it is said, an effort is to be made by

the royalists. They are certainly very numerous, and the interest taken

in the young King is universal. In vain have the journalists been

forbidden to cherish these sentiments, by publishing details concerning

him: whatever escapes the walls of his prison is circulated in impatient

whispers, and requires neither printing nor gazettes a la main to give it

publicity.*

* Under the monarchy people disseminated anecdotes or intelligence

which they did not think it safe to print, by means of these written

gazettes.--I doubt if any one would venture to have recourse to them

at present.

--The child is reported to be ill, and in a kind of stupefaction, so as

to sit whole days without speaking or moving: this is not natural at his

age, and must be the consequence of neglect, or barbarous treatment.

The Committees of Government, and indeed most of the Convention who have

occasionally appeared to give tacit indications of favouring the

royalists, in order to secure their support against the Jacobins, having

now crushed the latter, begin to be seriously alarmed at the projects of

the former.--Sevestre, in the name of the Committee of Public Safety,

has announced that a formidable insurrection may be expected on the

twenty-fifth of Prairial, (thirteenth June,) the Deputies on mission are

ordered to return, and the Assembly propose to die under the ruins of the

republic. They have, notwithstanding, judged it expedient to fortify

these heroic dispositions by the aid of a military force, and a large

number of regular troops are in Paris and the environs. We shall

certainly depart before this menacing epoch: the application for our

passports was made on our first arrival, and Citizen Liebault, Principal

of the Office for Foreign Affairs, who is really very civil, has promised

them in a day or two.

Our journey here was, in fact, unnecessary; but we have few republican

acquaintance, and those who are called aristocrats do not execute

commission of this kind zealously, nor without some apprehensions of

committing themselves.--You will wonder that I find time to write to you,

nor do I pretend to assume much merit from it. We have not often courage

to frequent public places in the evening, and, when we do, I continually

dread some unlucky accident: either a riot between the Terrorists and

Muscadins, within, or a military investment without. The last time we

were at the theatre, a French gentleman, who was our escort, entered into

a trifling altercation with a rude vulgar-looking man, in the box, who

seemed to speak in a very authoritative tone, and I know not how the

matter might have ended, had not a friend in the next box silenced our

companion, by conveying a penciled card, which informed him the person he

was disputing with was a Deputy of the Convention. We took an early

opportunity of retreating, not perfectly at ease about the consequences

which might ensue from Mr. -------- having ventured to differ in opinion

from a Member of the Republican Legislature. Since that time we have

passed our evenings in private societies, or at home; and while Mr.

D-------- devours new pamphlets, and Mrs. D-------- and the lady we lodge

with recount their mutual sufferings at Arras and St. Pelagie, I take the

opportunity of writing.

--Adieu.

Paris, June 12, 1795.

The hopes and fears, plots and counterplots, of both royalists and

republicans, are now suspended by the death of the young King. This

event was announced on Tuesday last, and since that time the minds and

conversation of the public have been entirely occupied by it. Latent

suspicion, and regret unwillingly suppressed, are every where visible;

and, in the fond interest taken in this child's life, it seems to be

forgotten that it is the lot of man "to pass through nature to eternity,"

and that it was possible for him to die without being sacrificed by human

malice.

All that has been said and written on original equality has not yet

persuaded the people that the fate of Kings is regulated only by the

ordinary dispensations of Providence; and they seem to persist in

believing, that royalty, if it has not a more fortunate pre-eminence, is

at least distinguished by an unusual portion of calamities.

When we recollect the various and absurd stories which have been

propagated and believed at the death of Monarchs or their offspring,

without even a single ground either political or physical to justify

them, we cannot now wonder, when so many circumstances of every kind tend

to excite suspicion, that the public opinion should be influenced, and

attribute the death of the King to poison. The child is allowed to have

been of a lively disposition, and, even long after his seclusion from his

family, to have frequently amused himself by singing at the window of his

prison, until the interest he was observed to create in those who

listened under it, occasioned an order to prevent him. It is therefore

extraordinary, that he should lately have appeared in a state of

stupefaction, which is by no means a symptom of the disorder he is

alledged to have died of, but a very common one of opiates improperly

administered.*

* In order to account in some way for the state in which the young

King had lately appeared, it was reported that he had been in the

habit of drinking strong liquors to excess. Admitting this to be

true, they must have been furnished for him, for he could have no

means of procuring them.--It is not inapposite to record, that on a

petition being formerly presented to the legislature from the

Jacobin societies, praying that the "son of the tyrant" might be put

to death, an honourable mention in the national bulletin was

unanimously decreed!!!

Though this presumption, if supported by the evidence of external

appearances, may seem but of little weight; when combined with others, of

a moral and political nature, it becomes of considerable importance. The

people, long amused by a supposed design of the Convention to place the

Dauphin on the throne, were now become impatient to see their wishes

realized; or, they hoped that a renewal of the representative body,

which, if conducted with freedom, must infallibly lead to the

accomplishment of this object, would at least deliver them from an

Assembly which they considered as exhausted in talents and degraded in

reputation.--These dispositions were not attempted to be concealed; they

were manifested on all occasions: and a general and successful effort in

favour of the Royal Prisoner was expected to take place on the

thirteenth.*

* That there were such designs, and such expectations on the part of

the people, is indubitable. The following extract, written and

signed by one of the editors of the _Moniteur,_ is sufficiently

expressive of the temper of the public at this period; and I must

observe here, that the _Moniteur_ is to be considered as nearly

equivalent to an official paper, and is always supposed to express

the sense of government, by whom it is supported and paid, whatever

party or system may happen to prevail:

_"Les esperances les plus folles se manifestent de toutes parts.--

C'est a qui jettera plus promptement le masque--on dirait, a lire

les ecrits qui paraissent, a entendre les conversations des gens qui

se croient dans les confidences, que c'en est fait de la republique:

la Convention, secondee, poussee meme par le zele et l'energie des

bons citoyens a remporte une grande victoire sur les Terroristes,

sur les successeurs de Robespierre, il semble qu'elle n'ait plus

qu'a proclamer la royaute. Ce qui donne lieu a toutes les

conjectures plus ou moins absurdes aux quelles chacun se livre,

c'est l'approche du 25 Prairial."_ (13th June, the day on which the

new constitution was to be presented).

"The most extravagant hopes, and a general impatience to throw off

the mask are manifested on all sides.--To witness the publications

that appear, and to hear what is said by those who believe

themselves in the secret, one would suppose that it was all over

with the republic.--The Convention seconded, impelled even, by the

good citizens, has gained a victory over the Terrorists and the

successors of Robespierre, and now it should seem that nothing

remained to be done by to proclaim royalty--what particularly gives

rise to these absurdities, which exist more or less in the minds of

all, is the approach of the 25th Prairial."

_Moniteur,_ June 6, 1795.

Perhaps the majority of the Convention, under the hope of securing

impunity for their past crimes, might have yielded to the popular

impulse; but the government is no longer in the hands of those men who,

having shared the power of Robespierre before they succeeded him, might,

as Rabaut St. Etienne expressed himself, "be wearied of their portion of

tyranny."*

* -"Je suis las de la portion de tyrannie que j'exerce."---"I am

weary of the portion of tyranny which I exercise."

Rabaut de St. Etienne

--The remains of the Brissotins, with their newly-acquired authority,

have vanity, interest, and revenge, to satiate; and there is no reason to

suppose that a crime, which should favour these views, would, in their

estimation, be considered otherwise than venial. To these are added

Sieyes, Louvet, &c. men not only eager to retain their power, but known

to have been of the Orleans faction, and who, if they are royalists, are

not loyalists, and the last persons to whose care a son of Louis the

Sixteenth ought to have been intrusted.

At this crisis, then, when the Convention could no longer temporize with

the expectations it raised--when the government was divided between one

party who had deposed the King to gratify their own ambition, and another

who had lent their assistance in order to facilitate the pretensions of

an usurper--and when the hopes of the country were anxiously fixed on

him, died Louis the Seventeenth. At an age which, in common life, is

perhaps the only portion of our existence unalloyed by misery, this

innocent child had suffered more than is often the lot of extended years

and mature guilt. He lived to see his father sent to the scaffold--to be

torn from his mother and family--to drudge in the service of brutality

and insolence--and to want those cares and necessaries which are not

refused even to the infant mendicant, whose wretchedness contributes to

the support of his parents.*

* It is unnecessary to remind the reader, that the Dauphin had been

under the care of one Simon, a shoemaker, who employed him to clean

his (Simon's) shoes, and in any other drudgery of which his close

confinement admitted.

--When his death was announced to the Convention, Sevestre, the reporter,

acknowledged that Dessault, the surgeon, had some time since declared the

case to be dangerous; yet, notwithstanding policy as well as humanity

required that every appearance of mystery and harshness should, on such

an occasion, be avoided, the poor child continued to be secluded with the

same barbarous jealousy--nor was the Princess, his sister, whose evidence

on the subject would have been so conclusive, ever suffered to approach

him.

No report of Dessault's opinion had till now been made public; and

Dessault himself, who was an honest man, died of an inflammatory disorder

four days before the Dauphin.--It is possible, he might have expressed

himself too freely, respecting his patient, to those who employed him--

his future discretion might be doubted--or, perhaps, he was only called

in at first, that his character might give a sanction to the future

operations of those who were more confided in. But whether this event is

to be ascribed to natural causes, or to that of opiates, the times and

circumstances render it peculiarly liable to suspicions, and the

reputation of those who are involved, is not calculated to repel them.

Indeed, so conscious are the advocates of government, that the imputation

cannot be obviated by pleading the integrity of the parties, that they

seem to rest their sole defence on the inutility of a murder, which only

transfers whatever rights the House of Bourbon may be supposed to

possess, from one branch of it to another. Yet those who make use of

this argument are well aware of its fallaciousness: the shades of

political opinion in France are extremely diversified, and a considerable

part of the Royalists are also Constitutionalists, whom it will require

time and necessity to reconcile to the emigrant Princes. But the young

King had neither enemies nor errors--and his claims would have united the

efforts and affections of all parties, from the friends of the monarchy,

as it existed under Louis the Fourteenth, down to the converted

Republican, who compromises with his principles, and stipulates for the

title of Perpetual President.

That the removal of this child has been fortunate for those who govern,

is proved by the effect: insurrections are no longer talked of, the

royalists are confounded, the point of interest is no more, and a sort of

despondency and confusion prevails, which is highly favourable to a

continuance of the present system.--There is no doubt, but that when

men's minds become more settled, the advantage of having a Prince who is

capable of acting, and whose success will not be accompanied by a long

minority, will conciliate all the reflecting part of the constitutional

royalists, in spite of their political objections. But the people who

are more under the influence of their feelings, and yield less to

expediency, may not, till urged by distress and anarchy, be brought to

take the same interest in the absent claimant of the throne, that they

did in their infant Prince.

It is to be regretted, that an habitual and unconquerable deference for

the law which excludes females from the Crown of France, should have

survived monarchy itself; otherwise the tender compassion excited by the

youth, beauty and sufferings of the Princess, might yet have been the

means of procuring peace to this distracted country. But the French

admire, lament, and leave her to her fate--

"O, shame of Gallia, in one sullen tower

"She wets with royal tears her daily cell;

"She finds keen anguish every rose devour,

"They spring, they bloom, then bid the world farewell.

"Illustrious mourner! will no gallant mind

"The cause of love, the cause of justice own?

"Such claims! such charms! And is no life resign'd

"To see them sparkle from their parent throne?"

How inconsistent do we often become through prejudices! The French are

at this moment governed by adventurers and courtezans--by whatever is

base, degraded, or mean, in both sexes; yet, perhaps, would they blush to

see enrolled among their Sovereigns an innocent and beautiful Princess,

the descendant of Henry the Fourth.

Nothing since our arrival at Paris has seemed more strange than the

eagerness with which every one recounts some atrocity, either committed

or suffered by his fellow-citizens; and all seem to conclude, that the

guilt or shame of these scenes is so divided by being general, that no

share of either attaches to any individual. They are never tired of the

details of popular or judicial massacres; and so zealous are they to do

the honours of the place, that I might, but for disinclination on my

part, pass half my time in visiting the spots where they were

perpetrated. It was but to-day I was requested to go and examine a kind

of sewer, lately described by Louvet, in the Convention, where the blood

of those who suffered at the Guillotine was daily carried in buckets, by

men employed for the purpose.*

* "At the gate of St. Antoine an immense aqueduct had been

constructed for the purpose of carrying off the blood that was shed

at the executions, and every day four men were employed in taking it

up in buckets, and conveying it to this horrid reservoir of

butchery."

Louvet's Report, 2d May.

--These barbarous propensities have long been the theme of French

satyrists; and though I do not pretend to infer that they are national,

yet certainly the revolution has produced instances of ferocity not to be

paralleled in any country that ever had been civilized, and still less in

one that had not.*

* It would be too shocking, both to decency and humanity, to recite

the more serious enormities alluded to; and I only add, to those I

have formerly mentioned, a few examples which particularly describe

the manners of the revolution.--

At Metz, the heads of the guillotined were placed on the tops of

their own houses. The Guillotine was stationary, fronting the

Town-house, for months; and whoever was observed to pass it with

looks of disapprobation, was marked as an object of suspicion. A

popular Commission, instituted for receiving the revolutionary tax

at this place, held their meetings in a room hung with stripes of

red and black, lighted only with sepulchral lamps; and on the desk

was placed a small Guillotine, surrounded by daggers and swords. In

this vault, and amidst this gloomy apparatus, the inhabitants of

Metz brought their patriotic gifts, (that is, the arbitrary and

exorbitant contributions to which they were condemned,) and laid

them on the altar of the Guillotine, like the sacrifice of fear to

the infernal deities; and, that the keeping of the whole business

might be preserved, the receipts were signed with red ink, avowedly

intended as expressive of the reigning system.

At Cahors, the deputy, Taillefer, after making a triumphal entry

with several waggons full of people whom he had arrested, ordered a

Guillotine to be erected in the square, and some of the prisoners to

be brought forth and decorated in a mock costume representing Kings,

Queens, and Nobility. He then obliged them successively to pay

homage to the Guillotine, as though it had been a throne, the

executioner manoeuvring the instrument all the while, and exciting

the people to call for the heads of those who were forced to act in

this horrid farce. The attempt, however, did not succeed, and the

spectators retired in silent indignation.

At Laval, the head of Laroche, a deputy of the Constituent Assembly,

was exhibited (by order of Lavallee, a deputy there on mission) on

the house inhabited by his wife.--At Auch, in the department of

Gers, d'Artigoyte, another deputy, obliged some of the people under

arrest to eat out of a manger.--Borie used to amuse himself, and the

inhabitants of Nismes, by dancing what he called a farandole round

the Guillotine in his legislative costume.--The representative

Lejeune solaced his leisure hours in beheading animals with a

miniature Guillotine, the expence of which he had placed to the

account of the nation; and so much was he delighted with it, that

the poultry served at his table were submitted to its operation, as

well as the fruits at his dessert! (Debates, June 1.)

But it would be tedious and disgusting to describe all the _menus

plaisirs_ of these founders of the French republic. Let it suffice

to say, that they comprised whatever is ludicrous, sanguinary, and

licentious, and that such examples were but too successful in

procuring imitators. At Tours, even the women wore Guillotines in

their ears, and it was not unusual for people to seal their letters

with a similar representation!

We have been once at the theatre since the King's death, and the stanza

of the _Reveil du Peuple,_ [The rousing of the people.] which contains a

compliment to the Convention, was hissed pretty generally, while those

expressing an abhorrence of Jacobinism were sung with enthusiasm. But

the sincerity of these musical politics is not always to be relied on: a

popular air is caught and echoed with avidity; and whether the words be

_"Peuple Francais, peuple de Freres,"_ ["Brethren."]--or _"Dansons la

Guillotine,"_ the expression with which it is sung is not very different.

How often have the theatres resounded with _"Dieu de clemence et de

justice."_ ["God of mercy and justice."] and _"Liberte, Liberte,

cherie!"_ ["Liberty, beloved Liberty!"] while the instrument of death was

in a state of unceasing activity--and when the auditors, who joined in

these invocations to Liberty, returned to their homes trembling, lest

they should be arrested in the street, or find a mandate or guard at

their own houses.*

* An acquaintance of mine told me, that he was one evening in

company at Dijon, where, after singing hymns to liberty in the most

energetic style, all the party were arrested, and betook themselves

as tranquilly to prison, as though the name of liberty had been

unknown to them. The municipality of Dijon commonly issued their

writs of arrest in this form--"Such and such a person shall be

arrested, and his wife, if he has one!"

--At present, however, the Parisians really sing the _Reveil_ from

principle, and I doubt if even a new and more agreeable air in the

Jacobin interest would be able to supplant it.

We have had our permission to remain here extended to another Decade; but

Mr. D------, who declares, ten times in an hour, that the French are the

strangest people on earth, besides being the most barbarous and the most

frivolous, is impatient to be gone; and as we now have our passports, I

believe we shall depart the middle of next week.

--Yours.

Paris, June 15, 1795.

I am now, after a residence of more than three years, amidst the chaos of

a revolution, on the eve of my departure from France. Yet, while I

joyfully prepare to revisit my own country, my mind involuntarily traces

the rapid succession of calamities which have filled this period, and

dwells with painful contemplation on those changes in the morals and

condition of the French people that seem hitherto to be the only fruits

which they have produced. In this recurrence to the past, and estimation

of the present, however we may regret the persecution of wealth, the

destruction of commerce, and the general oppression, the most important

and irretrievable mischief of the revolution is, doubtless, the

corruption of manners introduced among the middle and lower classes of

the people.

The labouring poor of France have often been described as frugal,

thoughtless, and happy, earning, indeed, but little, yet spending still

less, and in general able to procure such a subsistence as their habits

and climate rendered agreeable and sufficient.*

* Mr. Young seems to have been persuaded, that the common people of

France worked harder, and were worse fed, than those of the same

description in England. Yet, as far as I have had opportunity of

observing, and from the information I have been able to procure, I

cannot help supposing that this gentleman has drawn his inference

partially, and that he has often compared some particular case of

distress, with the general situation of the peasantry in the rich

counties, which are the scene of his experiments. The peasantry of

many distant parts of England fare as coarsely, and labour harder,

than was common in France; and taking their habits of frugality,

their disposition to be satisfied, and their climate into the

account, the situation of the French perhaps was preferable.

Mr. Young's Tour has been quoted very triumphantly by a Noble Lord,

particularly a passage which laments and ascribes to political

causes the appearance of premature old age, observable in French

women of the lower classes. Yet, for the satisfaction of his

Lordship's benevolence and gallantry, I can assure him, that the

female peasants in France have not more laborious occupations than

those of England, but they wear no stays, and expose themselves to

all weathers without hats; in consequence, lose their shape, tan

their complexions, and harden their features so as to look much

older than they really are.--Mr. Young's book is translated into

French, and I have too high an opinion both of his principles and

his talents to doubt that he must regret the ill effects it may have

had in France, and the use that has been made of it in England.

--They are now become idle, profuse, and gloomy; their poverty is

embittered by fanciful claims to riches and a taste for expence. They

work with despair and unwillingness, because they can no longer live by

their labour; and, alternately the victims of intemperance or want, they

are often to be found in a state of intoxication, when they have not been

able to satisfy their hunger--for, as bread cannot always be purchased

with paper, they procure a temporary support, at the expence of their

health and morals, in the destructive substitute of strong liquors.

Those of the next class, such as working tradesmen, artizans, and

domestic servants, though less wretched, are far more dissolute; and it

is not uncommon in great towns to see men of this description unite the

ferociousness of savages with all the vices of systematic profligacy.

The original principles of the revolution, of themselves, naturally

tended to produce such a depravation; but the suspension of religious

worship, the conduct of the Deputies on mission, and the universal

immorality of the existing government, must have considerably hastened

it. When the people were forbidden the exercise of their religion,

though they did not cease to be attached to it, yet they lost the good

effects which even external forms alone are calculated to produce; and

while deism and atheism failed in perverting their faith, they were but

too successful in corrupting their morals.

As in all countries the restraints which religion imposes are more

readily submitted to by the inferior ranks of life, it is these which

must be most affected by its abolition; and we cannot wonder, that when

men have been once accustomed to neglect the duty they consider as most

essential, they should in time become capable of violating every other:

for, however it may be among the learned, _qui s'aveuglent a force de

lumiere,_ [Who blind themselves by excess of light. Destouchet.] with

the ignorant the transition from religious indifference to actual vice is

rapid and certain.

The Missionaries of the Convention, who for two years extended their

destructive depredations over the departments, were every where guilty of

the most odious excesses, and those least culpable offered examples of

licentiousness and intemperance with which, till then, the people had

never been familiar.*

* "When the Convention was elected, (says Durand Maillane, see

Report of the Committee of Legislation, 13th Prairial, 1st June,)

the choice fell upon men who abused the name of patriot, and adopted

it as a cloak for their vices.--Vainly do we inculcate justice, and

expect the Tribunals will bring thieves and assassins to punishment,

if we do not punish those amongst ourselves.--Vainly shall we talk

of republican manners and democratic government, while our

representatives carry into the departments examples of despotism and

corruption."

The conduct of these civilized banditti has been sufficiently

described. Allard, Lacoste, Mallarme, Milhaud, Laplanche,

Monestier, Guyardin, Sergent, and many others, were not only

ferocious and extravagant, but known to have been guilty of the

meanest thefts. Javoques is alledged to have sacrificed two hundred

people of Montibrison, and to have stolen a vast quantity of their

effects. It was common for him to say, that he acknowledged as true

patriots those only who, like himself, _"etaient capables de boire

une verre de sang,"_--("were capable of drinking a glass of blood.")

D'Artigoyte distinguished himself by such scandalous violations of

morals and decency, that they are not fit to be recited. He often

obliged married women, by menaces, to bring their daughters to the

Jacobin clubs, for the purpose of insulting them with the grossest

obscenities.--Having a project of getting up a play for his

amusement, he caused it to be declared, that those who had any

talents for acting, and did not present themselves, should be

imprisoned as suspects. And it is notorious, that this same Deputy

once insulted all the women present at the theatre, and, after using

the most obscene language for some time, concluded by stripping

himself entirely in presence of the spectators.

Report of the Committee of Legislation, 13th Prairial (1st of

June).

Lacoste and Baudet, when they were on mission at Strasburgh, lived

in daily riot and intoxication with the members of the Revolutionary

Tribunal, who, after qualifying themselves in these orgies,

proceeded to condemn all the prisoners brought before them.--During

the debate following the above quoted report, Dentzel accused

Lacoste, among other larcenies, of having purloined some shirts

belonging to himself; and addressing Lacoste, who was present in the

Assembly, with true democratic frankness, adds, _"Je suis sur qu'il

en a une sur le corps."_--("I am certain he has one of them on at

this moment.") Debate, 1st of June.

The following is a translation of a letter from Piorry,

Representative of the People, to the popular society of Poitiers:--

"My honest and determined _Sans Culottes,_ as you seemed to desire a

Deputy amongst you who has never deviated from the right principles,

that is to say, a true Mountaineeer, I fulfil your wishes in sending

you the Citizen Ingrand.--Remember, honest and determined _Sans

Culottes,_ that with the sanction of the patriot Ingrand, you may do

every thing, obtain every thing, destroy every thing--imprison all,

try all, transport all, or guillotine all. Don't spare him a

moment; and thus, through his means, all may tremble, every thing be

swept away, and, finally, be re-established in lasting order.

(Signed) "Piorry."

The gentleman who translated the above for me, subjoined, that he

had omitted various oaths too bad for translation.--This Piorry

always attended the executions, and as fast as a head fell, used to

wave his hat in the air, and cry, _"Vive la Republique!"_

Such are the founders of the French Republic, and such the means by

which it has been supported!

--It may be admitted, that the lives of the higher Noblesse were not

always edifying; but if their dissipation was public, their vices were

less so, and the scenes of both were for the most part confined to Paris.

What they did not practise themselves, they at least did not discourage

in others; and though they might be too indolent to endeavour at

preserving the morals of their dependents, they knew their own interest

too well to assist in depraving them.

But the Representatives, and their agents, are not to be considered

merely as individuals who have corrupted only by example;--they were

armed with unlimited authority, and made proselytes through fear, where

they failed to produce them from inclination. A contempt for religion or

decency has been considered as the test of an attachment to the

government; and a gross infraction of any moral or social duty as a proof

of civism, and a victory over prejudice. Whoever dreaded an arrest, or

courted an office, affected profaneness and profligacy--and, doubtless,

many who at first assumed an appearance of vice from timidity, in the end

contracted a preference for it. I myself know instances of several who

began by deploring that they were no longer able to practise the duties

of their religion, and ended by ridiculing or fearing them. Industrious

mechanics, who used to go regularly to mass, and bestow their weekly

_liard_ on the poor, after a month's revolutionising, in the suite of a

Deputy, have danced round the flames which consumed the sacred writings,

and become as licentious and dishonest as their leader.

The general principles of the Convention have been adapted to sanction

and accelerate the labours of their itinerant colleagues. The sentences

of felons were often reversed, in consideration of their "patriotism"--

women of scandalous lives have been pensioned, and complimented publicly

--and various decrees passed, all tending to promote a national

dissoluteness of manners.*

* Among others, a decree which gave all illegitimate children a

claim to an equal participation in the property of the father to

whom they should (at the discretion of the mother) be attributed.

--The evil propensities of our nature, which penal laws and moralists

vainly contend against, were fostered by praise, and stimulated by

reward--all the established distinctions of right and wrong confounded--

and a system of revolutionary ethics adopted, not less incompatible with

the happiness of mankind than revolutionary politics.

Thus, all the purposes for which this general demoralization was

promoted, being at length attained, those who were rich having been

pillaged, those who were feared massacred, and a croud of needy and

desperate adventurers attached to the fate of the revolution, the

expediency of a reform has lately been suggested. But the mischief is

already irreparable. Whatever was good in the national character is

vitiated; and I do not scruple to assert, that the revolution has both

destroyed the morals of the people, and rendered their condition less

happy*--that they are not only removed to a greater distance from the

possession of rational liberty, but are become more unfit for it than

ever.

* It has been asserted, with a view to serve the purposes of party,

that the condition of the lower classes in France was mended by the

revolution. If those who advance this were not either partial or

ill-informed, they would observe that the largesses of the

Convention are always intended to palliate some misery, the

consequence of the revolution, and not to banish what is said to

have existed before. For the most part, these philanthropic

projects are never carried into effect, and when they are, it is to

answer political purposes.--For instance, many idle people are kept

in pay to applaud at the debates and executions, and assignats are

distributed to those who have sons serving in the army. The

tendency of both these donations needs no comment. The last, which

is the most specious, only affords a means of temporary profusion to

people whose children are no incumbrance to them, while such as have

numerous and helpless families, are left without assistance. Even

the poorest people now regard the national paper with contempt; and,

persuaded it must soon be of no value, they eagerly squander

whatever they receive, without care for the future.

As I have frequently, in the course of these letters, had occasion to

quote from the debates of the Convention, and other recent publications,

I ought to observe that the French language, like every thing else in the

country, has been a subject of innovation--new words have been invented,

the meaning of old ones has been changed, and a sort of jargon,

compounded of the appropriate terms of various arts and sciences,

introduced, which habit alone can render intelligible. There is scarcely

a report read in the Convention that does not exhibit every possible

example of the Bathos, together with more conceits than are to be found

in a writer of the sixteenth century; and I doubt whether any of their

projects of legislation or finance would be understood by Montesquieu or

Colbert.

But the style most difficult to be comprehended by foreigners, is that

of the newspapers; for the dread of offending government so entirely

possesses the imagination of those who compose such publications, that it

is not often easy to distinguish a victory from a defeat, by the language

in which it is conveyed. The common news of the day is worded as

cautiously as though it were to be the subject of judicial disquisition;

and the real tendency of an article is sometimes so much at variance with

its comment, that the whole, to a cursory peruser, may seem destitute of

any meaning at all. Time, however, has produced a sort of intelligence

between news-writers and their readers--and rejoicings, lamentations,

praise, or censure, are, on particular occasions, understood to convey

the reverse of what they express.

The affected moderation of the government, and the ascendency which some

of the Brissotin party are beginning to take in it, seem to flatter the

public with the hope of peace. They forget that these men were the

authors of the war, and that a few months imprisonment has neither

expiated their crimes, nor subdued their ambition. It is the great

advantage of the Brissotins, that the revolutionary tyranny which they

had contributed to establish, was wrested from them before it had taken

its full effect; but those who appreciate their original claims, without

regard to their sufferings under the persecution of a party, are disposed

to expect they will not be less tenacious of power, nor less arbitrary in

the exercise of it than any of the intervening factions. The present

government is composed of such discordant elements, that their very union

betrays that they are in fact actuated by no principle, except the

general one of retaining their authority. Lanjuinais, Louvet, Saladin,

Danou, &c. are now leagued with Tallien, Freron, Dubois de Crance, and

even Carnot.

At the head of this motley assemblage of Brissotins, Orleanists, and

Robespierrians, is Sieyes--who, with perhaps less honesty, though more

cunning, than either, despises and dupes them all. At a moment when the

Convention had fallen into increased contempt, and when the public

affairs could no longer be conducted by fabricators of reports and

framers of decrees, the talents of this sinister politician became

necessary; yet he enjoys neither the confidence of his colleagues nor

that of the people--the vanity and duplicity of his conduct disgust and

alarm the first, while his reputation of partizan of the Duke of Orleans

is a reason for suspicion in the latter. But if Sieyes has never been

able to conciliate esteem, nor attain popularity, he has at length

possessed himself of power, and will not easily be induced to relinquish

it.--Many are of opinion, that he is secretly machinating for the son of

his former patron; but whether he means to govern in the name of the Duke

of Orleans, or in that of the republic, it is certain, had the French any

liberty to lose, it never could have found a more subtle and dangerous

enemy.*

* The Abbe, in his _"notices sur la Vie de Sieyes,"_ declares that

his contempt and detestation of the colleagues "with whom his

unfortunate stars had connected him," were so great, that he

determined, from his first arrival at the Convention, to take no

part in public affairs. As these were his original sentiments of

the Assembly, perhaps he may hereafter explain by which of their

operations his esteem was so much reconciled, that he has

condescended to become their leader.

Paris may, without exaggeration, be described as in a state of famine.

The markets are scantily supplied, and bread, except the little

distributed by order of the government, not to be obtained: yet the

inhabitants, for the most part, are not turbulent--they have learned too

late, that revolutions are not the source of plenty, and, though they

murmur and execrate their rulers, they abstain from violence, and seem

rather inclined to yield to despair, than to seek revenge. This is one

proof, among a variety of others, that the despotism under which the

French have groaned for the last three years, has much subdued the

vivacity and impatience of the national character; for I know of no

period in their history, when such a combination of personal suffering

and political discontent, as exists at present, would not have produced

some serious convulsion.

Amiens, June 18, 1795.

We returned hither yesterday, and on Friday we are to proceed to Havre,

accompanied by an order from the Committee of Public Welfare, stating

that several English families, and ourselves among the number, have been

for some time a burthen on the generosity of the republic, and that for

this reason we are permitted to embark as soon as we can find the means.

This is neither true, nor very gallant; but we are too happy in quitting

the republic, to cavil about terms, and would not exchange our

pauper-like passports for a consignment of all the national domains.

I have been busy to-day in collecting and disposing of my papers, and

though I have taken infinite pains to conceal them, their bulk is so

considerable, that the conveyance must be attended with risk. While I

was thus employed, the casual perusal of some passages in my letters and

notes has led me to consider how much my ideas of the French character

and manners differ from those to be found in the generality of modern

travels. My opinions are not of importance enough to require a defence;

and a consciousness of not having deviated from truth makes me still more

averse from an apology. Yet as I have in several instances varied from

authorities highly respectable, it may not be improper to endeavour to

account for what has almost the appearance of presumption.

If you examine most of the publications describing foreign countries, you

will find them generally written by authors travelling either with the

eclat of birth and riches, or, professionally, as men of science or

letters. They scarcely remain in any place longer than suffices to view

the churches, and to deliver their letters of recommendation; or, if

their stay be protracted at some capital town, it is only to be feted

from one house to another, among that class of people who are every where

alike. As soon as they appear in society, their reputation as authors

sets all the national and personal vanity in it afloat. One is polite,

for the honour of his country--another is brilliant, to recommend

himself; and the traveller cannot ask a question, the answer to which is

not intended for an honourable insertion in his repertory of future fame.

In this manner an author is passed from the literati and fashionable

people of one metropolis to those of the next. He goes post through

small towns and villages, seldom mixes with every-day life, and must in a

great degree depend for information on partial enquiries. He sees, as it

were, only the two extremes of human condition--the splendour of the

rich, and the misery of the poor; but the manners of the intermediate

classes, which are less obtrusive, are not within the notice of a

temporary resident.

It is not therefore extraordinary, that I, who have been domesticated

some years in France, who have lived among its inhabitants without

pretensions, and seen them without disguise, should not think them quite

so polite, elegant, gay, or susceptible, as they endeavour to appear to

the visitant of the day. Where objects of curiosity only are to be

described, I know that a vast number may be viewed in a very rapid

progress; yet national character, I repeat, cannot be properly estimated

but by means of long and familiar intercourse. A person who is every

where a stranger, must see things in their best dress; being the object

of attention, he is naturally disposed to be pleased, and many

circumstances both physical and moral are passed over as novelties in

this transient communication, which might, on repetition, be found

inconvenient or disgusting. When we are stationary, and surrounded by

our connections, we are apt to be difficult and splenetic; but a literary

traveller never thinks of inconvenience, and still less of being out of

humour--curiosity reconciles him to the one, and his fame so smooths all

his intercourse, that he has no plea for the other.

It is probably for these reasons that we have so many panegyrists of our

Gallic neighbours, and there is withal a certain fashion of liberality

that has lately prevailed, by which we think ourselves bound to do them

more than justice, because they [are] our political enemies. For my own

part, I confess I have merely endeavoured to be impartial, and have not

scrupled to give a preference to my own country where I believed it was

due. I make no pretensions to that sort of cosmopolitanism which is

without partialities, and affects to consider the Chicktaw or the Tartars

of Thibet, with the same regard as a fellow-countryman. Such universal

philanthropists, I have often suspected, are people of very cold hearts,

who fancy they love the whole world, because they are incapable of loving

any thing in it, and live in a state of "moral vagabondage," (as it is

happily termed by Gregoire,) in order to be exempted from the ties of a

settled residence. _"Le cosmopolytisme de systeme et de fait n'est qu'un

vagabondage physique ou moral: nous devons un amour de preference a la

societe politique dont nous sommes membres."_ ["Cosmopolytism, either in

theory or in practice, is no better than a moral or physical vagrancy:

the political society of which we are members, is entitled to a

preference in our affections."]

Let it not be imagined, that, in drawing comparisons between France and

England, I have been influenced by personal suffering or personal

resentment. My opinions on the French characters and manners were formed

before the revolution, when, though my judgment might be deficient, my

heart was warm, and my mind unprejudiced; yet whatever credit may be

allowed to my general opinions, those which particularly apply to the

present situation and temper of the French will probably be disputed.

When I describe the immense majority of the nation as royalists, hating

their government, and at once indignant and submissive, those who have

not studied the French character, and the progress of the revolution, may

suspect my veracity. I can only appeal to facts. It is not a new event

in history for the many to be subdued by the few, and this seems to be

the only instance in which such a possibility has been doubted.*

* It is admitted by Brissot, who is in this case competent

authority, that about twenty factious adventurers had oppressed the

Convention and the whole country. A more impartial calculator would

have been less moderate in the number, but the fact is the same; and

it would be difficult to fix the period when this oppression ceased.

--The well-meaning of all classes in France are weak, because they are

divided; while the small, but desperate factions that oppress them, are

strong in their union, and in the possession of all the resources of the

country.

Under these circumstances, no successful effort can be made; and I have

collected from various sources, that the general idea of the French at

present is, to wait till the new constitution appears, and to accept it,

though it should be even more anarchical and tyrannic than the last.

They then hope that the Convention will resign their power without

violence, that a new election of representatives will take place, and

that those representatives, who they intend shall be men of honesty and

property, will restore them to the blessings of a moderate and permanent

government.

--Yours.

Havre, June 22, 1795.

We are now in hourly expectation of sailing for England: we have agreed

with the Captain of a neutral vessel, and are only waiting for a

propitious wind. This good ally of the French seems to be perfectly

sensible of the value of a conveyance out of the republic, and

accordingly we are to pay him about ten times more for our passage than

he would have asked formerly. We chose this port in preference to Calais

or Boulogne, because I wished to see my friend Madame de ------ at Rouen,

and leave Angelique with her relations, who live there.

I walked this morning to the harbour, and seeing some flat-bottomed boats

constructing, asked a French gentleman who accompanied me, perhaps a

little triumphantly, if they were intended for a descent on the English

coast. He replied, with great composure, that government might deem it

expedient (though without any views of succeeding) to sacrifice ten or

twenty thousand men in the attempt.--It is no wonder that governments,

accountable for the lives and treasure they risk, are scarcely equal to a

conflict sustained by such power, and conducted on such principles.--But

I am wearied and disgusted with the contemplation of this despotism, and

I return to my country deeply and gratefully impressed with a sense of

the blessings we enjoy in a free and happy constitution.

--I am, &c.