Chapter III: Part 3

* The victorious Brissotines, after the 10th of August, availing
themselves of the stupor of one part of the people, and the
fanaticism of the other, required that the new Convention might be
entrusted with unlimited powers. Not a thousandth portion of those
who elected the members, perhaps, comprehended the dreadful extent
of such a demand, as absurd as it has proved fatal.--_"Tout pouvoir
sans bornes ne fauroit etre legitime, parce qu'il n'a jamais pu
avoir d'origine legitime, car nous ne pouvons pas donner a un autre
plus de pouvoir sur nous que nous n'en avons nous-memes"_
[Montesquieu.]:--that is, the power which we accord to others, or
which we have over ourselves, cannot exceed the bounds prescribed by
the immutable laws of truth and justice. The united voice of the
whole French nation could not bestow on their representatives a
right to murder or oppress one innocent man.

--Even of these, several have already perished; and in the hands of Robespierre, and half a dozen others of equal talents and equal atrocity, but less cunning, center at present all the fruits of so many miseries, and so many crimes.

In all these conflicts of party, the victory seems hitherto to have remained with the most artful, rather than the most able; and it is under the former title that Robespierre, and his colleagues in the Committee of Public Welfare, are now left inheritors of a power more despotic than that exercised in Japan.--Robespierre is certainly not deficient in abilities, but they are not great in proportion to the influence they have acquired him. They may, perhaps, be more properly called singular than great, and consist in the art of appropriating to his own advantage both the events of chance and the labours of others, and of captivating the people by an exterior of severe virtue, which a cold heart enables him to assume, and which a profligacy, not the effect of strong passions, but of system, is easily subjected to. He is not eloquent, nor are his speeches, as compositions,* equal to those of Collot d'Herbais, Barrere, or Billaud Varennes; but, by contriving to reserve himself for extraordinary occasions, such as announcing plots, victories, and systems of government, he is heard with an interest which finally becomes transferred from his subject to himself.**

* The most celebrated members of the Convention are only readers of
speeches, composed with great labour, either by themselves or
others; and I think it is distinguishable, that many are
manufactured by the same hand. The style and spirit of Lindet,
Barrere, and Carnot, seem to be in common.

** The following passages, from a speech of Dubois Crance, who may
be supposed a competent judge, at once furnish an idea of
Robespierre's oratory, exhibit a leading feature in his character,
and expose some of the arts by which the revolutionary despotism was
maintained:

_"Rapportant tout a lui seul, jusqu'a la patrie, il n'en parla
jamais que pour s'en designer comme l'unique defenseur: otez de ses
longs discours tout ce qui n'a rapport qu'a son personnel, vous n'y
trouverez plus que de seches applications de prinipes connus, et
surtout de phrases preparees pour amener encore son eloge. Vous
l'avez juge timide, parce que son imagination, que l'on croyait
ardente, qui n'etait que feroce, parassait exagerer souvent les maux
de son pays. C'etait une jonglerie: il ne croyait ni aux
conspirations don't il faisait tant d'etalage, ni aux poignards
aux-quels il feignoit de sse devouer; mais il vouloit que les
citoyens fusssent constamment en defiance l'un de l'autre," &c._

"Affecting to consider all things, even the fate of the country, as
depending on himself alone, he never spoke of it but with a view to
point himself out its principal defender.--If you take away from his
long harangues all that regards him personally, you will find only
dry applications of familiar principles, and, above all, those
studied turns, which were artfully prepared to introduce his own
eternal panegyric.--You supposed him timid because his imagination
(which was not merely ardent, as was supposed, but ferocious) seemed
often to exaggerate the misfortunes of his country.--This was a mere
trick: he believed neither in the conspiracies he made so great a
parade of, nor in the poignards to which he pretended to devote
himself as a victim.--His real design was to infuse into the minds
of all men an unceasing diffidence of each other."

One cannot study the characters of these men, and the revolution, without wonder; and, after an hour of such scribbling, I wake to the scene around me, and my wonder is not a little increased, at the idea that the fate of such an individual as myself should be at all dependent on either.--My friend Mad. de ____ is ill,* and taken to the hospital, so that having no longer the care of dissipating her ennui, I am at full liberty to indulge my own.

* I have generally made use of the titles and distinctions by which
the people I mention were known before the revolution; for, besides
that I found it difficult to habituate my pen to the republican
system of levelling, the person to whom these letters were addressed
would not have known who was meant by the new appellations. It is,
however, to be observed, that, except in private aristocratic
intercourse, the word Citizen was in general use; and that those who
had titles relinquished them and assumed their family names.

--Yet I know not how it is, but, as I have before observed to you, I do not ennuye--my mind is constantly occupied, though my heart is vacant-- curiosity serves instead of interest, and I really find it sufficiently amusing to conjecture how long my head may remain on my shoulders.--You will, I dare say, agree with me that any doubts on such a subject are very well calculated to remove the tranquil sort of indifference which produces ennui; though, to judge by the greater part of my fellow-prisoners, one would not think so.--There is something surely in the character of the French, which makes them differ both in prosperity and adversity from other people. Here are many amongst us who see little more in the loss of their liberty than a privation of their usual amusements; and I have known some who had the good fortune to obtain their release at noon, exhibit themselves at the theatre at night.--God knows how such minds are constituted: for my part, when some consolatory illusion restores me to freedom, I associate with it no idea of positive pleasure, but long for a sort of intermediate state, which may repose my harassed faculties, and in which mere comfort and security are portrayed as luxuries. After being so long deprived of the decent accommodations of life, secluded from the intercourse which constitutes its best enjoyments, trembling for my own fate, and hourly lamenting that of my friends, the very thoughts of tumult or gaiety seem oppressive, and the desire of peace, for the moment, banishes every other. One must have no heart, after so many sufferings, not to prefer the castle of Indolence to the palace of Armida.

The coarse organs of an Argus at the door, who is all day employed in calling to my high-born companions by the republican appellations of _"Citoyen,"_ and _"Citoyenne,"_ has just interrupted me by a summons to receive a letter from my unfortunate friends at Arras.--It was given me open;* of course they say nothing of their situation, though I have reason to believe it is dreadful.

* The opening of letters was now so generally avowed, that people
who corresponded on business, and were desirous their letters should
be delivered, put them in the post without sealing; otherwise they
were often torn in opening, thrown aside, or detained, to save the
trouble of perusing.

--They have now written to me for assistance, which I have not the means of affording them. Every thing I have is under sequestration; and the difficulty which attends the negociating any drafts drawn upon England, has made it nearly impossible to procure money in the usual way, even if I were not confined. The friendship of Mad. de ____ will be little available to me. Her extensive fortune, before frittered to mere competency by the extortions of the revolution, now scarcely supplies her own wants; and her tenants humanely take the opportunity of her present distress to avoid paying their rent.*

* In some instances servants or tenants have been known to seize on
portions of land for their own use--in others the country
municipalities exacted as the price of a certificate of civism,
(without which no release from prison could be obtained,) such
leases, lands, or privileges, as they thought the embarrassments of
their landlords would induce them to grant. Almost every where the
houses of persons arrested were pilfered either by their own
servants or the agents of the republic. I have known an elegant
house put in requisition to erect blacksmiths' forges in for the use
of the army, and another filled with tailors employed in making
soldiers' clothes.--Houses were likewise not unfrequently abandoned
by the servants through fear of sharing the fate of their masters,
and sometimes exposed equally by the arrest of those who had been
left in charge, in order to extort discoveries of plate, money, &c.
the concealment of which they might be supposed privy to.

--So that I have no resource, either for myself or Mrs. D____, but the sale of a few trinkets, which I had fortunately secreted on my first arrest. How are we to exist, and what an existence to be solicitous about! In gayer moments, and, perhaps, a little tinctured by romantic refinement, I have thought Dr. Johnson made poverty too exclusively the subject of compassion: indeed I believe he used to say, it was the only evil he really felt for. This, to one who has known only mental suffering, appears the notion of a coarse mind; but I doubt whether, the first time we are alarmed by the fear of want, the dread of dependence does not render us in part his converts. The opinion of our English sage is more natural than we may at first imagine; or why is it that we are affected by the simple distresses of Jane Shore, beyond those of any other heroine?--Yours.

April 22, 1794.

Our abode becomes daily more crouded; and I observe, that the greater part of those now arrested are farmers. This appears strange enough, when we consider how much the revolutionary persecution has hitherto spared this class of people; and you will naturally enquire why it has at length reached them.

It has been often observed, that the two extremes of society are nearly the same in all countries; the great resemble each other from education, the little from nature. Comparisons, therefore, of morals and manners should be drawn from the intervening classes; yet from this comparison also I believe we must exclude farmers, who are every where the same, and who seem always more marked by professional similitude than national distinction.

The French farmer exhibits the same acuteness in all that regards his own interest, and the same stupidity on most other occasions, as the mere English one; and the same objects which enlarge the understanding and dilate the heart of other people, seem to have a contrary effect on both. They contemplate the objects of nature as the stock-jobber does the vicissitudes of the public funds: "the dews of heaven," and the enlivening orb by which they are dispelled, are to the farmer only objects of avaricious speculation; and the scarcity, which is partially profitable, is but too often more welcome than a general abundance.--They consider nothing beyond the limits of their own farms, except for the purpose of making envious comparisons with those of their neighbours; and being fed and clothed almost without intermediate commerce, they have little necessity for communication, and are nearly as isolated a part of society as sailors themselves.

The French revolutionists have not been unobserving of these circumstances, nor scrupulous of profiting by them: they knew they might have discussed for ever their metaphysical definitions of the rights of man, without reaching the comprehension, or exciting the interest, of the country people; but that if they would not understand the propagation of the rights of man, they would very easily comprehend an abolition of the rights of their landlords. Accordingly, the first principle of liberty they were taught from the new code was, that they had a right to assemble in arms, to force the surrender of title-deeds; and their first revolutionary notions of equality and property seem to have been manifested by the burning of chateaux, and refusing to pay their rents. They were permitted to intimidate their landlords, in order to force them to emigration, and either to sell their estates at a low price, or leave them to the mercy of the tenants.

At a time when the necessities of the state had been great enough to be made the pretext of a dreadful revolution, they were not only almost exempt from contributing to its relief, but were enriched by the common distress; and while the rest of their countrymen beheld with unavailing regret their property gradually replaced by scraps of paper, the peasants became insolent and daring by impunity, refused to sell but for specie, and were daily amassing wealth. It is not therefore to be wondered at, that they were partial to the new order of things. The prisons might have overflowed or been thinned by the miseries of those with whom they had been crowded--the Revolutionary Tribunal might have sacrificed half France, and these selfish citizens, I fear, would have beheld it tranquilly, had not the requisition forced their labourers to the army, and the "maximum" lowered the price of their corn. The exigency of the war, and an internal scarcity, having rendered these measures necessary, and it being found impossible to persuade the farmers into a peaceful compliance with them, the government has had recourse to its usual summary mode of expostulation--a prison or the Guillotine.*

* The avarice of the farmers was doubtless to be condemned, but the
cruel despotism of the government almost weakened our sense of
rectitude; for by confounding error with guilt, and guilt with
innocence, they habituated us to indiscriminate pity, and obliged us
to transfer our hatred of a crime to those who in punishing it,
observed neither mercy nor justice. A farmer was guillotined,
because some blades of corn appeared growing in one of his ponds;
from which circumstance it was inferred, he had thrown in a large
quantity, in order to promote a scarcity--though it was
substantially proved on his trial, that at the preceding harvest the
grain of an adjoining field had been got in during a high wind, and
that in all probability some scattered ears which reached the water
had produced what was deemed sufficient testimony to convict him.--
Another underwent the same punishment for pursuing his usual course
of tillage, and sowing part of his ground with lucerne, instead of
employing the whole for wheat; and every where these people became
the objects of persecution, both in their persons and property.

"Almost all our considerable farmers have been thrown into prison;
the consequence is, that their capital is eat up, their stock gone
to ruin, and our lands have lost the almost incalculable effect of
their industry. In La Vendee six million acres of land lie
uncultivated, and five hundred thousand oxen have been turned
astray, without shelter and without an owner."
Speech of Dubois Crance, Sept. 22, 1794.

--Amazed to find themselves the objects of a tyranny they had hitherto contributed to support, and sharing the misfortune of their Lords and Clergy, these ignorant and mistaken people wander up and down with a vacant sort of ruefulness, which seems to bespeak that they are far from comprehending or being satisfied with this new specimen of republicanism.--It has been a fatality attending the French through the whole revolution, that the different classes have too readily facilitated the sacrifice of each other; and the Nobility, the Clergy, the Merchant, and the Farmer, have the mortification of experiencing, that their selfish and illiberal policy has answered no purpose but to involve all in one common ruin.

Angelique has contrived to-day to negotiate the sale of some bracelets, which a lady, with whom I was acquainted previous to our detention, has very obligingly given almost half their value for, though not without many injunctions to secresy, and as many implied panegyrics on her benevolence, in risking the odium of affording assistance to a foreigner. We are, I assure you, under the necessity of being oeconomists, where the most abundant wealth could not render us externally comfortable: and the little we procure, by a clandestine disposal of my unnecessary trinkets, is considerably diminished,* by arbitrary impositions of the guard and the poor,** and a voluntary tax from the misery that surrounds us.

* I am aware of Mr. Burke's pleasantry on the expression of very
little, being greatly diminished; but my exchequer at this time was
as well calculated to prove the infinite divisibility of matter, as
that of the Welch principality.

** The guards of the republican Bastilles were paid by the prisoners
they contained; and, in many places, the tax for this purpose was
levied with indecent rigour. It might indeed be supposed, that
people already in prison could have little to apprehend from an
inability or unwillingness to submit to such an imposition; yet
those who refused were menaced with a dungeon; and I was informed,
from undoubted authority, of two instances of the sort among the
English--the one a young woman, the other a person with a large
family of children, who were on the point of suffering this
treatment, but that the humanity of some of their companions
interfered and paid the sum exacted of them. The tax for supporting
the imprisoned poor was more willingly complied with, though not
less iniquitous in its principle; numbers of inoffensive and
industrious people were taken from their homes on account of their
religion, or other frivolous pretexts, and not having the
wherewithal to maintain themselves in confinement, instead of being
kept by the republic, were supported by their fellow-prisoners, in
consequence of a decree to that purpose. Families who inherited
nothing from their noble ancestors but their names, were dragged
from obscurity only to become objects of persecution; and one in
particular, consisting of nine persons, who lived in extreme
indigence, but were notwithstanding of the proscribed class; the
sons were brought wounded from the army and lodged with the father,
mother, and five younger children in a prison, where they had
scarcely food to support, or clothing to cover them.

I take this opportunity of doing justice to the Comte d'Artois,
whose youthful errors did not extinguish his benevolence--the
unfortunate people in question having enjoyed a pension from him
until the revolution deprived them of it.

Our male companions are for the most part transferred to other prisons, and among the number are two young Englishmen, with whom I used sometimes to converse in French, without acknowledging our compatriotism. They have told me, that when the decree for arresting the English was received at Amiens, they happened to be on a visit, a few miles from the town; and having notice that a party of horse were on the road to take them, willing to gain time at least, they escaped by another route, and got home. The republican constables, for I can call the military employed in the interior by no better appellation, finding their prey had taken flight, adopted the impartial justice of the men of Charles Town,* and carried off the old couple (both above seventy) at whose house they had been.

* "But they maturely having weigh'd
"They had no more but him o'th'trade,
"Resolved to spare him, yet to do
"The Indian Hoghan-Moghan too
"Impartial justice--in his stead did
"Hang an old weaver that was bed-rid."

The good man, who was probably not versed in the etiquette of the revolution, conceived nothing of the matter, and when at the end of their journey they were deposited at the Bicetre, his head was so totally deranged, that he imagined himself still in his own house, and continued for some days addressing all the prisoners as though they were his guests--at one moment congratulating them on their arrival, the next apologizing for want of room and accommodation.--The evasion of the young men, as you will conclude, availed them nothing, except a delay of their captivity for a few hours.

A report has circulated amongst us to-day, that all who are not detained on specific charges are soon to be liberated. This is eagerly believed by the new-comers, and those who are not the "pale converts of experience." I am myself so far from crediting it, that I dread lest it should be the harbinger of some new evil, for I know not whether it be from the effect of chance, or a refinement in atrocity, but I have generally found every measure which tended to make our situation more miserable preceded by these flattering rumours.

You would smile to see with what anxious credulity intelligence of this sort is propagated: we stop each other on the stairs and listen while our palled dinner, just arrived from the traiteur, is cooling; and the bucket of the draw-well hangs suspended while a history is finished, of which the relator knows as little as the hearer, and which, after all, proves to have originated in some ambiguous phrase of our keeper, uttered in a good-humoured paroxysm while receiving a douceur.

We occasionally lose some of our associates, who, having obtained their discharge, _depart a la Francaise,_ forget their suffering, and praise the clemency of Dumont, and the virtue of the Convention; while those who remain still unconverted amuse themselves in conjecturing the channel through which such favours were solicited, and alleging reasons why such preferences were partial and unjust.

Dumont visits us, as usual, receives an hundred or two of petitions, which he does not deign to read, and reserves his indulgence for those who have the means of assailing him through the smiles of a favourite mistress, or propitiating him by more substantial advantages.--Many of the emigrants' wives have procured their liberty by being divorced, and in this there is nothing blameable, for I imagine the greater number consider it only as a temporary expedient, indifferent in itself, and which they are justified in having recourse to for the protection of their persons and property. But these domestic alienations are not confined to those who once moved in the higher orders of society--the monthly registers announce almost as many divorces as marriages, and the facility of separation has rendered the one little more than a licentious compact, which the other is considered as a means of dissolving. The effect of the revolution has in this, as in many other cases, been to make the little emulate the vices of the great, and to introduce a more gross and destructive policy among the people at large, than existed in the narrow circle of courtiers, imitators of the Regent, or Louis the fifteenth. Immorality, now consecrated as a principle, is far more pernicious than when, though practised, it was condemned, and, though suffered, not sanctioned.

You must forgive me if I ennuye you a little sententiously--I was more partial to the lower ranks of life in France, than to those who were deemed their superiors; and I cannot help beholding with indignant regret the last asylums of national morals thus invaded by the general corruption.--I believe no one will dispute that the revolution has rendered the people more vicious; and, without considering the matter either in a moral or religious point of view, it is impossible to assert that they are not less happy. How many times, when I was at liberty, have I heard the old wish for an accession of years, or envy those yet too young to be sensible of "the miseries of a revolution!"--Were the vanity of the self-sufficient philosopher susceptible of remorse, would he not, when he beholds this country, lament his presumption, in supposing he had a right to cancel the wisdom of past ages; or that the happiness of mankind might be promoted by the destruction of their morals, and the depravation of their social affections?--Yours, &c.

April 30, 1794.

For some years previous to the revolution, there were several points in which the French ascribed to themselves a superiority not very distant from perfection. Amongst these were philosophy, politeness, the refinements of society, and, above all, the art of living.--I have sometimes, as you know, been inclined to dispute these claims; yet, if it be true that in our sublunary career perfection is not stationary, and that, having reached the apex of the pyramid on one side, we must necessarily descend on the other, I might, on this ground, allow such pretensions to be more reasonable than I then thought them. Whatever progress might have been attained in these respects, or however near our neighbours might have approached to one extreme, it is but too certain they are now rapidly declining to the other. This boasted philosophy is become a horrid compound of all that is offensive to Heaven, and disgraceful to man--this politeness, a ferocious incivility--and this social elegance and exclusive science in the enjoyment of life, are now reduced to suspicious intercourse, and the want of common necessaries.

If the national vanity only were wounded, perhaps I might smile, though I hope I should not triumph; but when I see so much misery accompany so profound a degradation, my heart does not accord with my language, if I seem to do either one or the other.

I should ineffectually attempt to describe the circumstances and situation which have given rise to these reflections. Imagine to yourself whatever tyranny can inflict, or human nature submit to-- whatever can be the result of unrestrained wickedness and unresisting despair--all that can scourge or disgrace a people--and you may form some idea of the actual state of this country: but do not search your books for comparisons, or expect to find in the proscriptions and extravagancies of former periods any examples by which to judge the present.--Tiberius and Nero are on the road to oblivion, and the subjects of the Lama may boast comparative pretensions to rank as a free and enlightened nation.

The frantic ebullitions of the revolutionary government are now as it were subsided, and instead of appearing the temporary resources of "despotism in distress," [Burke.] have assumed the form of a permanent and regular system. The agitation occasioned by so many unexampled scenes is succeeded by an habitual terror, and this depressing sentiment has so pervaded all ranks, that it would be difficult to find an individual, however obscure or inoffensive, who deems his property, or even his existence, secure only for a moment. The sound of a bell or a knocker at the close of the evening is the signal of dismay. The inhabitants of the house regard each other with looks of fearful interrogation--all the precautions hitherto taken appear insufficient-- every one recollects something yet to be secreted--a prayer-book, an unburied silver spoon, or a few assignats "a face royale," are hastily scrambled together, and if the visit prove nothing more than an amicable domiciliary one, in search of arms and corn, it forms matter of congratulation for a week after. Yet such is the submission of the people to a government they abhor, that it is scarcely thought requisite now to arrest any person formally: those whom it is intended to secure often receive nothing more than a written mandate* to betake themselves to a certain prison, and such unpleasant rendezvous are attended with more punctuality than the most ceremonious visit, or the most gallant assignation.

* These rescripts were usually couched in the following terms:--
"Citizen, you are desired to betake yourself immediately to ------,
(naming the prison,) under pain of being conveyed there by an armed
force in case of delay."

--A few necessaries are hastily packed together, the adieus are made, and, after a walk to their prison, they lay their beds down in the corner allotted, just as if it were a thing of course.

It was a general observation with travellers, that the roads in France were solitary, and had rather the deserted appearance of the route of a caravan, than of the communications between different parts of a rich and populous kingdom. This, however, is no longer true, and, as far as I can learn, they are now sufficiently crowded--not, indeed, by curious itinerants, parties of pleasure, or commercial industry, but by Deputies of the Convention,* agents of subsistence,** committee men, Jacobin missionaries,*** troops posting from places where insurrection is just quelled to where it has just begun, besides the great and never-failing source of activity, that of conveying suspected people from their homes to prison, and from one prison to another.--

* Every department was infested by one, two, or more of these
strolling Deputies; and, it must be confessed, the constant tendency
of the people to revolt in many places afforded them sufficient
employment. Sometimes they acted as legislators, making laws on the
spot--sometimes, both as judges and constables--or, if occasion
required, they amused themselves in assisting the executioner.--The
migrations of obscure men, armed with unlimited powers, and whose
persons were unknown, was a strong temptation to imposture, and in
several places adventurers were detected assuming the character of
Deputies, for various purposes of fraud and depredation.--The
following instance may appear ludicrous, but I shall be excused
mentioning it, as it is a fact on record, and conveys an idea of
what the people supposed a Deputy might do, consistent with the
"dignity" of his executive functions.

An itinerant of this sort, whose object seems to have been no more
than to procure a daily maintenance, arriving hungry in a village,
entered the first farm-house that presented itself, and immediately
put a pig in requisition, ordered it to be killed, and some sausages
to be made, with all speed. In the meanwhile our mock-legislator,
who seems to have acted his part perfectly well, talked of liberty,
l'amour de la Patrie, of Pitt and the coalesced tyrants, of
arresting suspicious people and rewarding patriots; so that the
whole village thought themselves highly fortunate in the presence of
a Deputy who did no worse than harangue and put their pork in
requisiton.--Unfortunately, however, before the repast of sausages
could be prepared, a hue and cry reached the place, that this
gracious Representant was an impostor! He was bereft of his
dignities, conveyed to prison, and afterwards tried by the Tribunal
Revolutionnaire at Paris; but his Counsel, by insisting on the
mildness with which he had "borne his faculties," contrived to get
his punishment mitigated to a short imprisonment.--Another suffered
death on a somewhat similar account; or, as the sentence expressed
it, for degrading the character of a National Representative.--Just
Heaven! for degrading the character of a National Representative!!!
--and this too after the return of Carrier from Nantes, and the
publication of Collot d'Herbois' massacres at Lyons!

**The agents employed by government in the purchase of subsistence
amounted, by official confession, to ten thousand. In all parts
they were to be seen, rivalling each other, and creating scarcity
and famine, by requisitions and exactions, which they did not
convert to the profit of the republic, but to their own.--These
privileged locusts, besides what they seized upon, occasioned a
total stagnation of commerce, by laying embargoes on what they did
not want; so that it frequently occurred that an unfortunate
tradesman might have half the articles in his shop under requisition
for a month together, and sometimes under different requisitions
from deputies, commissaries of war, and agents of subsistence, all
at once; nor could any thing be disposed of till such claims were
satisfied or relinquished.

*** Jacobin missionaries were sent from Paris, and other great
towns, to keep up the spirits of the people, to explain the benefits
of the revolution, (which, indeed, were not very apparent,) and to
maintain the connection between the provincial and metropolitan
societies.--I remember the Deputies on mission at Perpignan writing
to the Club at Paris for a reinforcement of civic apostles, _"pour
evangeliser les habitans et les mettre dans la voie de salut"_--("to
convert the inhabitants, and put them in the road to salvation").

--These movements are almost entirely confined to the official travellers of the republic; for, besides the scarcity of horses, the increase of expence, and the diminution of means, few people are willing to incur the suspicion or hazard* attendant on quitting their homes, and every possible obstacle is thrown in the way of a too general intercourse between the inhabitants of large towns.

* There were moments when an application for a passport was certain
of being followed by a mandat d'arret--(a writ of arrest). The
applicant was examined minutely as to the business he was going
upon, the persons he was to transact it with, and whether the
journey was to be performed on horseback or in a carriage, and any
signs of impatience or distaste at those democratic ceremonies were
sufficient to constitute _"un homme suspect"_--("a suspicious
person"), or at least one _"soupconne d'etre suspect,"_ that is, a man
suspected of being suspicious. In either case it was usually deemed
expedient to prevent the dissemination of his supposed principles,
by laying an embargo on his person.--I knew a man under persecution
six months together, for having gone from one department to another
to see his family.

The committee of Public Welfare is making rapid advances to an absolute concentration of the supreme power, and the convention, while they are the instruments of oppressing the whole country, are themselves become insignificant, and, perhaps, less secure than those over whom they tyrannize. They cease to debate, or even to speak; but if a member of the Committee ascends the tribune, they overwhelm him with applauses before they know what he has to say, and then pass all the decrees presented to them more implicitly than the most obsequious Parliament ever enregistered an arrete of the Court; happy if, by way of compensation, they attract a smile from Barrere, or escape the ominous glances of Robespierre.*

* When a member of the committee looked inauspiciously at a
subordinate accomplice, the latter scarce ventured to approach his
home for some time.--Legendre, who has since boasted so continually
about his courage, is said to have kept his bed, and Bourdon de
l'Oise, to have lost his senses for a considerable time, from
frights, the consequence of such menaces.

Having so far described the situation of public affairs, I proceed as usual, and for which I have the example of Pope, who never quits a subject without introducing himself, to some notice of my own. It is not only bad in itself, but worse in perspective than ever: yet I learn not to murmur, and derive patience from the certainty, that almost every part of France is more oppressed and wretched than we are.--Yours, etc.

June 3, 1794.

The individual sufferings of the French may perhaps yet admit of increase; but their humiliation as a people can go no farther; and if it were not certain that the acts of the government are congenial to its principles, one might suppose this tyranny rather a moral experiment on the extent of human endurance, than a political system.

Either the vanity or cowardice of Robespierre is continually suggesting to him plots for his assassination; and on pretexts, at once absurd and atrocious, a whole family, with near seventy other innocent people as accomplices, have been sentenced to death by a formal decree of the convention.

One might be inclined to pity a people obliged to suppress their indignation on such an event, but the mind revolts when addresses are presented from all quarters to congratulate this monster's pretended escape, and to solicit a farther sacrifice of victims to his revenge.-- The assassins of Henry the Fourth had all the benefit of the laws, and suffered only after a legal condemnation; yet the unfortunate Cecilia Renaud, though evidently in a state of mental derangement, was hurried to the scaffold without a hearing, for the vague utterance of a truth, to which every heart in France, not lost to humanity, must assent. Brooding over the miseries of her country, till her imagination became heated and disordered, this young woman seems to have conceived some hopeless plan of redress from expostulation with Robespierre, whom she regarded as a principal in all the evils she deplored. The difficulty of obtaining an audience of him irritated her to make some comparison between an hereditary sovereign and a republican despot; and she avowed, that, in desiring to see Robespierre, she was actuated only by a curiosity to "contemplate the features of a tyrant."--On being examined by the Committee, she still persisted that her design was "seulement pour voir comment etoit fait un tyrant;" and no instrument nor possible means of destruction was found upon her to justify a charge of any thing more than the wild and enthusiastic attachment to royalism, which she did not attempt to disguise. The influence of a feminine propensity, which often survives even the wreck of reason and beauty, had induced her to dress with peculiar neatness, when she went in search of Robespierre; and, from the complexion of the times, supposing it very probable a visit of this nature might end in imprisonment and death, she had also provided herself with a change of clothes to wear in her last moments.

Such an attention in a beautiful girl of eighteen was not very unnatural; yet the mean and cruel wretches who were her judges, had the littleness to endeavour at mortifying, by divesting her of her ornaments, and covering her with the most loathsome rags. But a mind tortured to madness by the sufferings of her country, was not likely to be shaken by such puerile malice; and, when interrogated under this disguise, she still preserved the same firmness, mingled with contempt, which she had displayed when first apprehended. No accusation, nor even implication, of any person could be drawn from her, and her only confession was that of a passionate loyalty: yet an universal conspiracy was nevertheless decreed by the Convention to exist, and Miss Renaud, with sixty-nine others,* were sentenced to the guillotine, without farther trial than merely calling over their names.

* It is worthy of remark, that the sixty-nine people executed as
accomplices of Miss Renaud, except her father, mother, and aunt,
were totally unconnected with her, or with each other, and had been
collected from different prisons, between which no communication
could have subsisted.

--They were conducted to the scaffold in a sort of red frocks, intended, as was alleged, to mark them as assassins--but, in reality, to prevent the crowd from distinguishing or receiving any impression from the number of young and interesting females who were comprised in this dreadful slaughter.--They met death with a courage which seemed almost to disappoint the malice of their tyrants, who, in an original excess of barbarity, are said to have lamented that their power of inflicting could not reach those mental faculties which enabled their victims to suffer with fortitude.*

* Fouquier Tinville, public accuser of the Revolutionary Tribunal,
enraged at the courage with which his victims submitted to their
fate, had formed the design of having them bled previous to their
execution; hoping by this means to weaken their spirits, and that
they might, by a pusillanimous behaviour in their last moments,
appear less interesting to the people.

Such are the horrors now common to almost every part of France: the prisons are daily thinned by the ravages of the executioner, and again repeopled by inhabitants destined to the fate of their predecessors. A gloomy reserve, and a sort of uncertain foreboding, have taken possession of every body--no one ventures to communicate his thoughts, even to his nearest friend--relations avoid each other--and the whole social system seems on the point of being dissolved. Those who have yet preserved their freedom take the longest circuit, rather than pass a republican Bastille; or, if obliged by necessity to approach one, it is with downcast or averted looks, which bespeak their dread of incurring the suspicion of humanity.

I say little of my own feelings; they are not of a nature to be relieved by pathetic expressions: "I am e'en sick at heart." For some time I have struggled both against my own evils, and the share I take in the general calamity, but my mortal part gives way, and I can no longer resist the despondency which at times depresses me, and which indeed, more than the danger attending it, has occasioned my abandoning my pen for the last month.--Several circumstances have occurred within these few days, to add to the uneasiness of our situation, and my own apprehensions. Le Bon,* whose cruelties at Arras seem to have endeared him to his colleagues in the Convention, has had his powers extended to this department, and Andre Dumont is recalled; so that we are hourly menaced with the presence of a monster, compared to whom our own representative is amiable.--

* I have already noticed the cruel and ferocious temper of Le Bon,
and the massacres of his tribunals are already well known. I will
only add some circumstances which not only may be considered as
characteristic of this tyrant, but of the times--and I fear I may
add of the people, who suffered and even applauded them. They are
selected from many others not susceptible of being described in
language fit for an English reader.

As he was one day enjoying his customary amusement of superintending
an execution, where several had already suffered, one of the victims
having, from a very natural emotion, averted his eyes while he
placed his body in the posture required, the executioner perceived
it, and going to the sack which contained the heads of those just
sacrificed, took one out, and with the most horrible imprecations
obliged the unhappy wretch to kiss it: yet Le Bon not only
permitted, but sanctioned this, by dining daily with the hangman.
He was afterwards reproached with this familiarity in the
Convention, but defended himself by saying, "A similar act of
Lequinio's was inserted by your orders in the bulletin with
'honourable mention;' and your decrees have invariably consecrated
the principles on which I acted." They all felt for a moment the
dominion of conscience, and were silent.--On another occasion he
suspended an execution, while the savages he kept in pay threw dirt
on the prisoners, and even got on the scaffold and insulted them
previous to their suffering.

When any of his colleagues passed through Arras, he always proposed
their joining with him in a _"partie de Guillotine,"_ and the
executions were perpetrated on a small square at Arras, rather than
the great one, that he, his wife, and relations might more
commodiously enjoy the spectacle from the balcony of the theatre,
where they took their coffee, attended by a band of music, which
played while this human butchery lasted.

The following circumstance, though something less horrid, yet
sufficiently so to excite the indignation of feeling people,
happened to some friends of my own.--They had been brought with many
others from a distant town in open carts to Arras, and, worn out
with fatigue, were going to be deposited in the prison to which they
were destined. At the moment of their arrival several persons were
on the point of being executed. Le Bon, presiding as usual at the
spectacle, observed the cavalcade passing, and ordered it to stop,
that the prisoners might likewise be witnesses. He was, of course,
obeyed; and my terrified friends and their companions were obliged
not only to appear attentive to the scene before them, but to join
in the cry of _"Vive la Republique!"_ at the severing of each head.--
One of them, a young lady, did not recover the shock she received
for months.

The Convention, the Committees, all France, were well acquainted
with the conduct of Le Bon. He himself began to fear he might have
exceeded the limits of his commission; and, upon communicating some
scruples of this kind to his employers, received the following
letters, which, though they do not exculpate him, certainly render
the Committee of Public Welfare more criminal than himself.

"Citizen,

"The Committee of Public Welfare approve the measures you have
adopted, at the same time that they judge the warrant you solicit
unnecessary--such measures being not only allowable, but enjoined by
the very nature of your mission. No consideration ought to stand in
the way of your revolutionary progress--give free scope therefore to
your energy; the powers you are invested with are unlimited, and
whatever you may deem conducive to the public good, you are free,
you are even called upon by duty, to carry into execution without
delay.--We here transmit you an order of the Committee, by which
your powers are extended to the neighbouring departments. Armed
with such means, and with your energy, you will go on to confound
the enemies of the republic, with the very schemes they have
projected for its destruction.

"Carnot.
"Barrere.
"R. Lindet."

Extract from another letter, signed Billaud Varenne, Carnot,
Barrere.

"There is no commutation for offences against a republic. Death
alone can expiate them!--Pursue the traitors with fire and sword,
and continue to march with courage in the revolutionary track you
have described."

--Merciful Heaven! are there yet positive distinctions betwixt bad and worse that we thus regret a Dumont, and deem ourselves fortunate in being at the mercy of a tyrant who is only brutal and profligate? But so it is; and Dumont himself, fearful that he has not exercised his mission with sufficient severity, has ordered every kind of indulgence to cease, the prisons to be more strictly guarded, and, if possible, more crowded; and he is now gone to Paris, trembling lest he should be accused of justice or moderation!

The pretended plots for assassinating Robespierre are, as usual, attributed to Mr. Pitt; and a decree has just passed, that no quarter shall be given to English prisoners. I know not what such inhuman politics tend to, but my contempt, and the conscious pride of national superiority; certain, that when Providence sees fit to vindicate itself, by bestowing victory on our countrymen, the most welcome

"Laurels that adorn their brows
"Will be from living, not dead boughs."

The recollection of England, and its generous inhabitants, has animated me with pleasure; yet I must for the present quit this agreeable contemplation, to take precautions which remind me that I am separated from both, and in a land of despotism and misery!

--Yours affectionately.

June 11, 1794.

The immorality of Hebert, and the base compliances of the Convention, for some months turned the churches into "temples of reason."--The ambition, perhaps the vanity, of Robespierre, has now permitted them to be dedicated to the "Supreme Being," and the people, under such auspices, are to be conducted from atheism to deism. Desirous of distinguishing his presidency, and of exhibiting himself in a conspicuous and interesting light, Robespierre, on the last decade, appeared as the hero of a ceremony which we are told is to restore morals, destroy all the mischiefs introduced by the abolition of religion, and finally to defeat the machinations of Mr. Pitt. A gay and splendid festival has been exhibited at Paris, and imitated in the provinces: flags of the republican colours, branches of trees, and wreaths of flowers, were ordered to be suspended from the houses--every countenance was to wear the prescribed smile, and the whole country, forgetting the pressure of sorrow and famine, was to rejoice. A sort of monster was prepared, which, by some unaccountable ingenuity, at once represented Atheism and the English, Cobourg and the Austrians--in short, all the enemies of the Convention.--This external phantom, being burned with proper form, discovered a statue, which was understood to be that of Liberty, and the inauguration of this divinity, with placing the busts of Chalier* and Marat in the temple of the Supreme Being, by way of attendant saints, concluded the ceremony.--

* Chalier had been sent from the municipality of Paris after the
dethronement of the King, to revolutionize the people of Lyons, and
to excite a massacre. In consequence, the first days of September
presented the same scenes at Lyons as were presented in the capital.
For near a year he continued to scourge this unfortunate city, by
urging the lower classes of people to murder and pillage; till, at
the insurrection which took place in the spring of 1793, he was
arrested by the insurgents, tried, and sentenced to the guillotine.
--The Convention, however, whose calendar of saints is as
extraordinary as their criminal code, chose to beatify Chalier,
while they executed Malesherbes; and, accordingly, decreed him a
lodging in the Pantheon, pensioning his mistress, and set up his
bust in their own Hall as an associate for Brutus, whom, by the way,
one should not have expected to find in such company.

The good citizens of the republic, not to be behind hand with their representatives, placed Chalier in the cathedrals, in their public-houses, on fans and snuff-boxes--in short, wherever they thought his appearance would proclaim their patriotism.--I can only exclaim as Poultier, a deputy, did, on a similar occasion--"Francais, Francais, serez vous toujours Francais?"--(Frenchmen, Frenchmen, will you never cease to be Frenchmen?)

--But the mandates for such celebrations reach not the heart: flowers were gathered, and flags planted, with the scrupulous exactitude of fear;* yet all was cold and heavy, and a discerning government must have read in this anxious and literal obedience the indication of terror and hatred.

* I have more than once had occasion to remark the singularity of
popular festivities solemnized on the part of the people with no
other intention but that of exact obedience to the edicts of
government. This is so generally understood, that Richard, a deputy
on mission at Lyons, writes to the Convention, as a circumstance
extraordinary, and worthy of remark, that, at the repeal of a decree
which was to have razed their city to the ground, a rejoicing took
place, _"dirigee et executee par le peuple, les autorites
constitutees n'ayant fait en quelque sorte qu'y assister,"_--
(directed and executed by the people, the constituted authorities
having merely assisted at the ceremony).

--Even the prisons were insultingly decorated with the mockery of colours, which, we are told, are the emblems of freedom; and those whose relations have expired on the scaffold, or who are pining in dungeons for having heard a mass, were obliged to listen with apparent admiration to a discourse on the charms of religious liberty.--The people, who, for the most part, took little interest in the rest of this pantomime, and insensible of the national disgrace it implied, beheld with stupid satisfaction* the inscription on the temple of reason replaced by a legend, signifying that, in this age of science and information, the French find it necessary to declare their acknowledgment of a God, and their belief in the immortality of the soul.

* Much has been said of the partial ignorance of the unfortunate
inhabitants of La Vendee, and divers republican scribblers attribute
their attachment to religion and monarchy to that cause: yet at
Havre, a sea-port, where, from commercial communication, I should
suppose the people as informed and civilized as in any other part of
France, the ears of piety and decency were assailed, during the
celebration above-mentioned, by the acclamations of, _"Vive le Pere
Eternel!"--"Vive l'etre Supreme!"_--(I entreat that I may not be
suspected of levity when I translate this; in English it would be
"God Almighty for ever! The Supreme Being for ever!")

--At Avignon the public understanding seems to have been equally enlightened, if we may judge from the report of a Paris missionary, who writes in these terms:--"The celebration in honour of the Supreme Being was performed here yesterday with all possible pomp: all our country-folks were present, and unspeakably content that there was still a God--What a fine decree (cried they all) is this!"