Читать книгу A Residence in France During the Years 1792, 1793, 1794 and 1795, Complete - Charlotte Biggs - Страница 32

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The arrival of my friends has occaſioned a ſhort ſuſpenſion of my correſpondence: but though I have been negligent, I aſſure you, my dear brother, I have not been forgetful; and this temporary preference of the ties of friendſhip to thoſe of nature, will be excuſed, when you conſider our long ſeparation.

My intimacy with Mrs. D____ began when I firſt came to this country, and at every ſubſequent viſit to the continent it has been renewed and increaſed into that rational kind of attachment, which your ſex ſeldom allow in ours, though you yourſelves do not abound in examples of it. Mrs. D____ is one of thoſe characters which are oftener loved than admired—more agreeable than handſome—good-natured, humane, and unaſſuming—and with no mental pretenſions beyond common ſenſe tolerably well cultivated. The ſhades of this portraiture are an extreme of delicacy, bordering on faſtidiouſneſſ—a trifle of hauteur, not in manners, but diſpoſition—and, perhaps, a tincture of affectation. Theſe foibles are, however, in a great degree, conſtitutional: ſhe is more an invalid than myſelf; and ill health naturally increaſes irritability, and renders the mind leſs diſpoſed to bear with inconveniencies; we avoid company at firſt, through a ſenſe of our infirmities, till this timidity becomes habitual, and ſettles almoſt into averſion.—The valetudinarian, who is obliged to fly the world, in time fancies herſelf above it, and ends by ſuppoſing there is ſome ſuperiority in differing from other people. Mr. D____ is one of the beſt men exiſting—well bred and well informed; yet, without its appearing to the common obſerver, he is of a very ſingular and original turn of mind. He is moſt exceedingly nervous, and this effect of his phyſical conſtruction has rendered him ſo ſuſceptible, that he is continually agitated and hurt by circumſtanceſ which others paſs by unnoticed. In other reſpects he is a great lover of exerciſe, fond of domeſtic life, reads much, and has an averſion from buſtle of all kind.

The baniſhment of the Prieſts, which in many inſtances was attended with circumſtances of peculiar atrocity, has not yet produced thoſe effectſ which were expected from it, and which the promoters of the meaſure employed as a pretext for its adoption. There are indeed now no maſſeſ ſaid but by the Conſtitutional Clergy; but as the people are uſually aſ ingenious in evading laws as legiſlators are in forming them, many perſons, inſtead of attending the churches, which they think profaned by prieſts who have taken the oaths, flock to church-yards, chapels, or other places, once appropriated to religious worſhip, but in diſuſe ſince the revolution, and of courſe not violated by conſtitutional maſſes. The cemetery of St. Denis, at Amiens, though large, is on Sundays and holidays ſo crouded, that it is almoſt difficult to enter it. Here the devotees flock in all weathers, ſay their maſs, and return with the double ſatiſfaction of having preſerved their allegiance to the Pope, and riſked perſecution in a cauſe they deem meritorious. To ſay truth, it iſ not very ſurprizing that numbers ſhould be prejudiced againſt the conſtitutional clergy. Many of them are, I doubt not, liberal and well-meaning men, who have preferred peace and ſubmiſſion to theological warfare, and who might not think themſelves juſtified in oppoſing their opinion to a national deciſion: yet are there alſo many of profligate lives, who were never educated for the profeſſion, and whom the circumſtances of the times have tempted to embrace it as a trade, which offered ſubſiſtence without labour, and influence without wealth, and which at once ſupplied a veil for licentiouſneſs, and the means of practiſing it. Such paſtors, it muſt be confeſſed, have little claim to the confidence or reſpect of the people; and that there are ſuch, I do not aſſert, but on the moſt credible information. I will only cite two inſtances out of many within my own knowledge.

P____n, biſhop of St. Omer, was originally a prieſt of Arras, of viciouſ character, and many of his ordinations have been ſuch as might be expected from ſuch a patron.—A man of Arras, who was only known for hiſ vicious purſuits, and who had the reputation of having accelerated the death of his wife by ill treatment, applied to P____n to marry him a ſecond time. The good Biſhop, preferring the intereſt of his friend to the ſalvation of his flock, adviſed him to relinquiſh the project of taking a wife, and offered to give him a cure. The propoſal was accepted on the ſpot, and this pious aſſociate of the Reverend P____n waſ immediately inveſted with the direction of the conſciences, and the care of the morals, of an extenſive pariſh.

Acts of this nature, it is to be imagined, were purſued by cenſure and ridicule; but the latter was not often more ſucceſſful than on the following occaſion:—Two young men, whoſe perſons were unknown to the biſhop, one day procured an audience, and requeſted he would recommend them to ſome employment that would procure them the means of ſubſiſtence. This was juſt a time when the numerous vacancies that had taken place were not yet ſupplied, and many livings were unfilled for want of candidates. The Biſhop, who was unwilling that the nonjuring prieſtſ ſhould have the triumph of ſeeing their benefices remain vacant, fell into the ſnare, and propoſed their taking orders. The young men expreſſed their joy at the offer; but, after looking confuſedly on each other, with ſome difficulty and diffidence, confeſſed their lives had been ſuch as to preclude them from the profeſſion, which, but for thiſ impediment, would have ſatiſfied them beyond their hopes. The Biſhop very complaiſantly endeavoured to obviate theſſe objections, while they continued to accuſe themſelves of all the ſins in the decalogue; but the Prelate at length obſerving he had ordained many worſe, the young men ſmiled contemptuouſly, and, turning on their heels, replied, that if prieſts were made of worſe men than they had deſcribed themſelves to be, they begged to be excuſed from aſſociating with ſuch company.

Dumouriez, Cuſtine, Biron, Dillon, &c. are doing wonders, in ſpite of the ſeaſon; but the laurel is an ever-green, and theſe heroes gather it equally among the ſnows of the Alps, and the fogs of Belgium. If we may credit the French papers too, what they call the cauſe of liberty is not leſs ſucceſſfully propagated by the pen than the ſword. England is ſaid to be on the eve of a revolution, and all its inhabitants, except the King and Mr. Pitt, become Jacobins. If I did not believe "the wiſh waſ father to the thought," I ſhould read theſe aſſertions with much inquietude, as I have not yet diſcovered the excellencies of a republican form of government ſufficiently to make me wiſh it ſubſtituted for our own.—It ſhould ſeem that the Temple of Liberty, as well as the Temple of Virtue, is placed on an aſcent, and that as many inflexions and retrogradations occur in endeavouring to attain it. In the ardour of reaching theſe difficult acclivities, a fall ſometimes leaves us lower than the ſituation we firſt ſet out from; or, to ſpeak without a figure, ſo much power is exerciſed by our leaders, and ſo much ſubmiſſion exacted from the people, that the French are in danger of becoming habituated to a deſpotiſm which almoſt ſanctifies the errors of their ancient monarchy, while they ſuppoſe themſelves in the purſuit of a degree of freedom more ſublime and more abſolute than has been enjoyed by any other nation.— Attempts at political as well as moral perfection, when carried beyond the limits compatible with a ſocial ſtate, or the weakneſs of our natures, are likely to end in a depravity which moderate governments and rational ethics would have prevented.

The debates of the Convention are violent and acrimonious. Robeſpierre has been accuſed of aſpiring to the Dictatorſhip, and his defence was by no means calculated to exonerate him from the charge. All the chiefſ reproach each other with being the authors of the late maſſacres, and each ſucceeds better in fixing the imputation on his neighbour, than in removing it from himſelf. General reprobation, perſonal invectives, and long ſpeeches, are not wanting; but every thing which tends to examination and enquiry is treated with much more delicacy and compoſure: ſo that I fear theſe firſt legiſlators of the republic muſt, for the preſent, be content with the reputation they have aſſigned each other, and rank amongſt thoſe who have all the guilt, but want the courage, of aſſaſſins.

I ſubjoin an extract from a newſpaper, which has lately appeared.*

*Extract from The Courier de l'Egalite, November, 1792: "There are diſcontented people who ſtill venture to obtrude their ſentiments on the public. One of them, in a public print, thuſ expreſſes himſelf—'I aſſert, that the newſpapers are ſold and devoted to falſehood. At this price they purchaſe the liberty of appearing; and the excluſive privilege they enjoy, as well as the contradictory and lying aſſertions they all contain, prove the truth of what I advance. They are all preachers of liberty, yet never was liberty ſo ſhamefully outraged—of reſpect for property, and property was at no time ſo little held ſacred—of perſonal ſecurity, yet when were there committed ſo many maſſacres? and, at the very moment I am writing, new ones are premeditated. They call vehemently for ſubmiſſion, and obedience to the laws, but the laws had never leſſ influence; and while our compliance with ſuch as we are even ignorant of is exacted, it is accounted a crime to execute thoſe in force. Every municipality has its own arbitrary code—every battalion, every private ſoldier, exerciſes a ſovereignty, a moſt abſolute deſpotiſm; and yet the Gazettes do not ceaſe to boaſt the excellence of ſuch a government. They have, one and all, attributed the maſſacres of the tenth of Auguſt and the ſecond of September, and the days following each, to a popular fermentation. The monſterſ! they have been careful not to tell us, that each of theſe horrid ſcenes (at the priſons, at La Force, at the Abbaye, &c. &c.) was preſided by municipal officers in their ſcarfs, who pointed out the victims, and gave the ſignal for the aſſaſſination. It waſ (continue the Journals) the error of an irritated people—and yet their magiſtrates were at the head of it: it was a momentary error; yet this error of a moment continued during ſix whole days of the cooleſt reflection—it was only at the cloſe of the ſeventh that Petion made his appearance, and affected to perſuade the people to deſiſt. The aſſaſſins left off only from fatigue, and at thiſ moment they are preparing to begin again. The Journals do not tell us that the chief of theſe Sceleratſ [We have no term in the Engliſh language that conveys an adequate meaning for this word—it ſeems to expreſs the extreme of human wickedneſs and atrocity.] employed ſubordinate aſſaſſins, whom they cauſed to be clandeſtinely murdered in their turn, as though they hoped to deſtroy the proof of their crime, and eſcape the vengeance that awaits them. But the people themſelves were accomplices in the deed, for the Garde Nationale gave their aſſiſtance,'" &c. &c.

In ſpite of the murder of ſo many journaliſts, and the deſtruction of the printing-offices, it treats the September buſineſs ſo freely, that the editor will doubtleſs ſoon be ſilenced. Admitting theſe accuſations to be unfounded, what ideas muſt the people have of their magiſtrates, when they are credited? It is the prepoſſeſſion of the hearer that giveſ authenticity to fiction; and ſuch atrocities would neither be imputed to, nor believed of, men not already bad.—Yours, &c.