Chapter XIV: Act IV (2)

Thou too!—the nameless Bard,[311]—whose honest zeal For law, for morals, for the public weal, Pours down impetuous on thy country’s foes The stream of verse, and many-languaged prose; Thou too! though oft thy ill-advised dislike The guiltless head with random censure strike,— Though quaint allusions, vague and undefined, Play faintly round the ear, but mock the mind;— 50 Through the mix’d mass yet truth and learning shine, And manly vigour stamps the nervous line; And patriot warmth the generous rage inspires, And wakes and points the desultory fires!

Yet more remain unknown:—for who can tell What bashful genius, in some rural cell, As year to year, and day succeeds to day, In joyless leisure wastes his life away? In him the flame of early fancy shone; His genuine worth his old companions own; 60 In childhood and in youth their chief confess’d, His master’s pride, his pattern to the rest. Now, far aloof retiring from the strife Of busy talents, and of active life, As from the loop-holes of retreat he views Our stage, verse, pamphlets, politics, and news, He loathes the world,—or, with reflections sad, Concludes it irrecoverably mad; Of taste, of learning, morals, all bereft, No hope, no prospect to redeem it left. 70

Awake! for shame! or e’er thy nobler sense Sink in th’ oblivious pool of indolence! Must wit be found alone on falsehood’s side, Unknown to truth, to virtue unallied? Arise! nor scorn thy country’s just alarms; Wield in her cause thy long-neglected arms: Of lofty satire pour th’ indignant strain, Leagued with her friends, and ardent to maintain ’Gainst Learning’s, Virtue’s, Truth’s, Religion’s foes, A kingdom’s safety, and the world’s repose. 80

If Vice appal thee,—if thou view with awe Insults that brave, and crimes that ’scape the law; Yet may the specious bastard brood, which claim A spurious homage under Virtue’s name, Sprung from that parent of ten thousand crimes, The _New Philosophy_ of modern times,— Yet, these may rouse thee!—With unsparing hand, Oh, lash the vile impostures from the land!

First, stern PHILANTHROPY:—not she, who dries The orphan’s tears, and wipes the widow’s eyes; 90 Not she, who sainted Charity her guide, Of British bounty pours the annual tide:— But _French_ PHILANTHROPY;—whose boundless mind Glows with the general love of all mankind;— PHILANTHROPY,—beneath whose baneful sway Each patriot passion sinks, and dies away.

Taught in her school to imbibe thy mawkish strain, CONDORCET, filtered through the dregs of PAINE, Each pert adept disowns a Briton’s part, And plucks the name of ENGLAND from his heart. 100

What! shall a name, a word, a sound, control Th’ aspiring thought, and cramp th’ expansive soul? Shall one half-peopled Island’s rocky round A love, that glows for all creation, bound? And social charities contract the plan Framed for thy freedom, UNIVERSAL MAN! No—through th’ extended globe his feelings run As broad and general as th’ unbounded sun! No narrow bigot _he_;—_his_ reason’d view Thy interests, _England_, ranks with thine, _Peru_! 110 _France_ at our doors, _he_ sees no danger nigh, But heaves for _Turkey’s_ woes th’ impartial sigh; A steady patriot of the world alone, The friend of every country—but his own.

Next comes a gentler Virtue.—Ah! beware Lest the harsh verse her shrinking softness scare. Visit her not too roughly;—the warm sigh Breathes on her lips;—the tear-drop gems her eye. Sweet SENSIBILITY, who dwells enshrined In the fine foldings of the feeling mind; 120 With delicate _Mimosa’s_ sense endued, Who shrinks instinctive from a hand too rude; Or, like the _Anagallis_, prescient flower, Shuts her soft petals at the approaching shower.

Sweet child of sickly FANCY!—her of yore From her loved _France_ ROUSSEAU to exile bore; And, while ’midst lakes and mountains wild he ran, Full of himself, and shunn’d the haunts of man, Taught her o’er each lone vale and Alpine steep To lisp the story of his wrongs, and weep; 130 Taught her to cherish still in either eye, Of tender tears a plentiful supply, And pour them in the brooks that babbled by; Taught by nice scale to mete her feelings strong, False by degrees, and exquisitely wrong; For the crush’d beetle, _first_,—the widow’d dove, And all the warbled sorrows of the grove; _Next_ for poor suff’ring _Guilt_; and _last_ of all, For parents, friends, a king and country’s fall.

Mark her fair votaries, prodigal of grief, 140 With cureless pangs, and woes that mock relief, Droop in soft sorrow o’er a faded flower; O’er a dead Jack-Ass pour the pearly shower; But hear, unmoved, of _Loire’s_ ensanguined flood, Choked up with slain; of _Lyons_ drenched in blood; Of crimes that blot the age, the world, with shame, Foul crimes, but sicklied o’er with Freedom’s name; Altars and thrones subverted; social life Trampled to earth,—the husband from the wife, Parent from child, with ruthless fury torn,— 150 Of talents, honour, virtue, wit, forlorn, In friendless exile,—of the wise and good Staining the daily scaffold with their blood,— Of savage cruelties, that scare the mind, The rage of madness with hell’s lusts combined,— Of hearts torn reeking from the mangled breast,— They hear,—and hope that ALL IS FOR THE BEST.

Fond hope! but JUSTICE sanctifies the prayer— JUSTICE! here, Satire, strike! ’twere sin to spare! Not she in British Courts that takes her stand, 160 The dawdling balance dangling in her hand, Adjusting punishments to fraud and vice, With scrupulous quirks, and disquisition nice: But firm, erect, with keen reverted glance, Th’ avenging angel of regenerate _France_, Who visits ancient sins on modern times, And punishes the POPE for CÆSAR’S crimes.[312]

Such is the liberal JUSTICE which presides In these our days, and modern patriots guides;— JUSTICE, whose blood-stain’d book one sole decree, 170 One statute, fills—“the People shall be Free!” Free! By what means?—by folly, madness, guilt, By boundless rapines, blood in oceans spilt; By confiscation, in whose sweeping toils The poor man’s pittance with the rich man’s spoils, Mix’d in one common mass, are swept away, To glut the short-lived tyrant of the day;— By laws, religion, morals, all o’erthrown:— Rouse, then, ye sovereign people, claim your own: The license that enthrals, the truth that blinds, 180 The wealth that starves you, and the power that grinds! So JUSTICE bids.—’Twas her enlighten’d doom, Louis, thy holy head devoted to the tomb! ’Twas JUSTICE claim’d, in that accurséd hour, The fatal forfeit of too lenient power. Mourn for the Man we may;—but for the King,— Freedom, oh! Freedom’s such a charming thing!

“Much may be said on both sides.”—Hark! I hear A well-known voice that murmurs in my ear,— The voice of CANDOUR.—Hail! most solemn sage, 190 Thou drivelling virtue of this moral age, CANDOUR, which softens party’s headlong rage. CANDOUR,—which spares its foes;—nor e’er descends With bigot zeal to combat for its friends. CANDOUR,—which loves in see-saw strain to tell Of _acting foolishly_, but _meaning well_; Too nice to praise by wholesale, or to blame, Convinced that _all_ men’s _motives_ are the same; And finds, with keen discriminating sight, BLACK’S not _so_ black;—nor WHITE _so very_ white. 200

“FOX, to be sure, was vehement and wrong: But then, PITT’S words, you’ll own, were _rather_ strong. Both must be blamed, both pardon’d; ’twas just so With FOX and PITT full forty years ago! So WALPOLE, PULTENEY;—factions in all times Have had their follies, ministers their crimes.”

Give me th’ avow’d, th’ erect, the manly foe, Bold I can meet—perhaps may turn his blow; But of all plagues, good Heav’n, thy wrath can send, Save, save, oh! save me from the _Candid Friend_! 210

“BARRAS loves plunder, MERLIN takes a bribe,— What then!—shall CANDOUR these good men proscribe? No! ere we join the loud-accusing throng, Prove,—not the facts,—but, that _they thought them wrong_.

“Why hang O’QUIGLEY?—he, misguided man, In sober thought his country’s weal _might_ plan: And, while his deep-wrought Treason sapp’d the throne, _Might_ act from _taste in morals_, all his own.”

Peace to such Reasoners! let them have their way; Shut their dull eyes against the blaze of day; 220 PRIESTLEY’S a Saint, and STONE a Patriot still; And LA FAYETTE a Hero, if they will.

I love the bold uncompromising mind, Whose principles are fix’d, whose views defined; Who scouts and scorns, in canting CANDOUR’S spite, All _taste in morals_, innate sense of right, And Nature’s impulse, all uncheck’d by art, And feelings fine, that float about the heart: Content, for good men’s guidance, bad men’s awe, On moral truth to rest, and Gospel law. 230 Who owns, when Traitors feel th’ avenging rod, Just retribution, and the hand of GOD; Who hears the groans through _Olmütz_’ roofs that ring, Of him who mock’d, misled, betray’d his King— Hears unappall’d, though Faction’s zealots preach, Unmov’d, unsoften’d by FITZPATRICK’S Speech.[313]

That Speech on which the melting Commons hung, “While truths divine came mended from _his_ tongue”; How loving husband clings to duteous wife,— How pure Religion soothes the ills of life,— 240 How Popish ladies trust their pious fears And naughty actions in their chaplains’ ears.— Half novel and half sermon, on it flow’d; With pious zeal THE OPPOSITION glow’d; And as o’er each the soft infection crept, Sigh’d as he whin’d, and as he whimper’d, wept;— E’en CURWEN[314] dropt a sentimental tear, And stout ST. ANDREW yelp’d a softer “Hear!”

· · · · ·

Oh! nurse of crimes and fashions! which in vain Our colder servile spirits would attain, 250 How do we ape thee, _France!_ but, blundering still, Disgrace the pattern by our want of skill. The borrow’d step our awkward gait reveals: (As clumsy COURTENAY[315] mars the verse he steals.) How do we ape thee, _France!_—nor claim alone Thy arts, thy tastes, thy morals, for our own, 260 But to thy WORTHIES render homage due, Their[316] “hair-breadth scapes” with anxious interest view; Statesmen and Heroines whom this age adores, Though plainer times would call them Rogues and Whores. 260

See LOUVET, patriot, pamphleteer, and sage, Tempering with amorous fire his virtuous rage. Form’d for all tasks, his various talents see, The luscious Novel, the severe Decree. Then mark him welt’ring in his nasty sty, Bare his lewd transports to the public eye. Not _his_ the love in silent groves that strays, Quits the rude world, and shuns the vulgar gaze. In LODOISKA’S full possession blest, One craving void still aches within his breast; 270 Plunged in the filth and fondness of her arms, Not to himself alone he stints her charms; Clasp’d in each other’s foul embrace they lie, But know no joy, unless the World stands by. The fool of vanity, for her alone He lives, loves, writes, and dies but to be known.

His widow’d mourner flies to poison’s aid, Eager to join her LOUVET’S parted shade In those bright realms where sainted lovers stray, But harsh emetics tear that hope away.[317] 280 Yet hapless LOUVET! where thy bones are laid, The easy nymphs shall consecrate the shade.[318] There in the laughing morn of genial spring, Unwedded pairs shall tender couplets sing; Eringoes o’er the hallow’d spot shall bloom, And flies of Spain buzz softly round the tomb.[319]

But hold, severer virtue claims the Muse— ROLAND the just, with ribands in his shoes—[320] And ROLAND’S spouse, who paints with chaste delight The doubtful conflict of her nuptial night;— 290 Her virgin charms what fierce attacks assail’d, And how the rigid Minister[321] prevail’d.

And ah! what verse can grace thy stately mien, Guide of the world, preferment’s golden queen, NECKAR’S fair daughter,—STAEL the Epicene! Bright o’er whose flaming cheek and pumple[322] nose The bloom of young desire unceasing glows! Fain would the Muse—but ah! she dares no more, A mournful voice from lone _Guyana’s_ shore,[323] Sad QUATREMER-the bold presumption checks, 300 Forbid to question thy ambiguous sex.

To thee, proud BARRAS bows;—thy charms control REWBELL’S brute rage, and MERLIN’S subtle soul; Rais’d by thy hands, and fashion’d to thy will, Thy power, thy guiding influence, governs still, Where at the blood-stain’d board expert he plies, The lame artificer of fraud and lies; He with the mitred head and cloven heel;— Doom’d the coarse edge of REWBELL’S jests to feel;[324] To stand the playful buffet, and to hear 310 The frequent ink-stand whizzing past his ear; While all the five Directors laugh to see “The limping priest so deft at his new ministry”.[325]

Last of th’ ANOINTED FIVE behold, and least, The Directorial LAMA, Sovereign Priest,— LEPAUX;—whom atheists worship;—at whose nod Bow their meek heads _the Men without a God_.[326]

Ere long, perhaps, to this astonish’d isle, Fresh from the shores of subjugated _Nile_, Shall BUONAPARTE’S victor fleet protect 320 The genuine Theo-Philanthropic sect,— The sect of MARAT, MIRABEAU, VOLTAIRE,— Led by their Pontiff, good LA RÉVEILLÈRE. Rejoiced our CLUBS shall greet him, and install The holy Hunchback in thy dome, _St. Paul_! While countless votaries, thronging in his train, Wave their red caps, and hymn this jocund strain:—

“_Couriers and Stars_, Sedition’s evening host, Thou _Morning Chronicle_ and _Morning Post_, Whether ye make the Rights of Man your theme, 330 Your country libel, and your God blaspheme, Or dirt on private worth and virtue throw, Still, blasphemous or blackguard, praise LEPAUX!

“And ye five other wandering bards, that move In sweet accord of harmony and love, COLERIDGE and SOUTHEY, LLOYD, and LAMB & CO. Tune all your mystic harps to praise LEPAUX!

“PRIESTLEY and WAKEFIELD, humble, holy men,
Give praises to his name with tongue and pen!

“THELWALL, and ye that lecture as ye go, 340
And for your pains get pelted, praise LEPAUX!

“Praise him each Jacobin, or Fool, or Knave,
And your cropp’d heads in sign of worship wave!

“All creeping creatures, venomous and low,
PAINE, WILLIAMS, GODWIN, HOLCROFT, praise LEPAUX!

“—— and —— with —— join’d,[327]
And every other beast after his kind.

“And thou, _Leviathan_! on ocean’s brim Hugest of living things that sleep and swim; Thou, in whose nose, by BURKE’S gigantic hand 350 The hook was fixed to drag thee to the land, With ——, ——, and ——, in thy train, And —— wallowing in the yeasty main,—[328] Still as ye snort, and puff, and spout, and blow, In puffing, and in spouting, praise LEPAUX!”

· · · · ·

BRITAIN, beware; nor let th’ insidious foe, Of force despairing, aim a deadlier blow; Thy Peace, thy Strength, with devilish wiles assail, And when her Arms are vain, by Arts prevail. True, thou art rich, art powerful!—thro’ thine Isle 360 Industrious skill, contented labour, smile; Far Seas are studded with thy countless sails; What wind but wafts them, and what shore but hails! True, thou art brave!—o’er all the busy land In patriot ranks embattled myriads stand; Thy foes behold with impotent amaze And drop the lifted weapon as they gaze

But what avails to guard each outward part, If subtlest poison, circling at thy heart, Spite of thy courage, of thy pow’r, and wealth, 370 Mine the sound fabric of thy vital health?

So thine own Oak, by some fair streamlet’s side, Waves its broad arms, and spreads its leafy pride, Tow’rs from the earth, and rearing to the skies Its conscious strength, the tempest’s wrath defies. Its ample branches shield the fowls of air, To its cool shade the panting herds repair. The treacherous current works its noiseless way, The fibres loosen, and the roots decay; Prostrate the beauteous ruin lies; and all 380 That shared its shelter, perish in its fall.

O thou! lamented SAGE! whose prescient scan Pierc’d through foul Anarchy’s gigantic plan, Prompt to incredulous hearers to disclose The guilt of _France_, and Europe’s world of woes;— Thou, on whose name each distant age shall gaze, The mighty sea-mark of these troubled days! O large of soul, of genius unconfin’d, Born to delight, instruct, and mend mankind! BURKE! in whose breast a Roman ardour glow’d; 390 Whose copious tongue with Grecian richness flow’d; Well hast thou found (if such thy country’s doom), A timely refuge in the sheltering tomb!

As, in far realms, where eastern kings are laid, In pomp of death, beneath the cypress shade, The perfum’d lamp with unextinguish’d light Flames through the vault, and cheers the gloom of night: So, mighty BURKE! in thy sepulchral urn, To Fancy’s view, the lamp of Truth shall burn. Thither late times shall turn their reverent eyes, 400 Led by thy light, and by thy wisdom wise.

There _are_, to whom (_their_ taste such pleasures cloy) No light thy wisdom yields, thy wit no joy. Peace to their heavy heads, and callous hearts, Peace—such as sloth, as ignorance imparts! Pleas’d may they live to plan their country’s good, And crop with calm content their flow’ry food!

What though thy venturous spirit loved to urge The labouring theme to Reason’s utmost verge, Kindling and mounting from th’ enraptur’d sight; 410 Still anxious wonder watch’d thy daring flight! While vulgar minds, with mean malignant stare, Gazed up, the triumph of thy fall to share! Poor triumph! price of that extorted praise, Which still to daring Genius Envy pays.

Oh! for thy playful smile, thy potent frown, To abash bold Vice, and laugh pert Folly down! So should the Muse, in Humour’s happiest vein, With verse that flowed in metaphoric strain, And apt allusions to the rural trade, 420 Tell of _what wood young_ JACOBINS _are made_; How the skill’d gardener grafts with nicest rule The _slip_ of coxcomb on the _stock_ of fool; Forth in bright blossom bursts the tender sprig, A thing to wonder at—[329] perhaps a _Whig_: Should tell, how wise each half-fledged pedant prates Of weightiest matters, grave distinctions states, That rules of policy, and public good, In Saxon times were rightly understood; That kings are proper, _may be_ useful things, 430 But then, some gentlemen object to kings; That in all times the minister’s to blame; That British liberty’s an empty name, Till each fair burgh, numerically free, Shall choose its members by _the Rule of Three_.

So should the Muse, with verse in thunder clothed, Proclaim the crimes by God and Nature loathed. Which—when fell poison revels in the veins— (That poison fell, which frantic _Gallia_ drains From the crude fruit of Freedom’s blasted tree) 440 Blot the fair records of Humanity.

To feebler nations let proud _France_ afford Her damning choice,—the chalice or the sword, To drink or die;—O fraud! O specious lie! Delusive choice! for _if_ they drink, they die.

The Sword we dread not:—of ourselves secure, Firm were our strength, our peace and freedom sure. Let all the world confederate all its powers, “Be they not backed by those that should be ours,” High on his rock shall BRITAIN’S GENIUS stand, 450 Scatter the crowded hosts, and vindicate the land.

Guard we but our own Hearts: with constant view To ancient morals, ancient manners true; True to the manlier virtues, such as nerv’d Our fathers’ breasts, and this proud Isle preserv’d For many a rugged age: and scorn the while Each philosophic atheist’s specious guile; The soft seductions, the refinements nice, Of gay Morality, and easy Vice; So shall we brave the storm; our ’stablish’d pow’r Thy refuge, EUROPE, in some happier hour. 461 But, FRENCH _in heart_, though Victory crown our brow, Low at our feet though prostrate Nations bow, Wealth gild our Cities, Commerce crowd our shore, LONDON MAY SHINE, but ENGLAND is NO MORE!

FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE.

In the last Address which We shall have to make to the Public, We would willingly review the whole of what has been advanced by Us under the different Heads of our Paper, and leave behind us a Summary of our Opinions upon the state of each subject as We found it, and as We conceive it to stand at the moment when our labours are concluded.

Upon no point, if We are to speak our sincere opinion, is the task more easily to be executed, or in a less compass, than in what relates to Foreign Politics.

In other times, the relations of States to each other have been matter of great study, and difficulty; have been embarrassed with a diversity of views, and a complication of interests, which it might require much experience to calculate, and much political sagacity to reconcile.

At present, there is but one relation among all the States of Europe:—one, at least, there is so paramount, as to confound and swallow up all inferior considerations.

FRANCE IS BENT ON THE CONQUEST AND RUIN OF THEM ALL. To repel this Conquest, to ward off this ruin, various means are tried, according to the power or the prudence of the different Nations. War, Treaty, Supplication, Bribery, timid Neutrality, implicit Submission, and, finally, an Incorporation into the Map of the _Great Republic_, are all at this moment exemplified in the conduct of the Countries which surround us.

Our lot, a lot imposed upon us by necessity, but which if it were not so imposed upon us, whoever is not blind, judicially blind to the conduct of _France_ towards us, and every other Country, would claim by choice, is WAR.

The relation in which we may stand to the other States of Europe, or they to each other, is comparatively of little moment. They may reciprocate Missions, and propose Treaties,—the _Ligurian Republic_ may make Peace or War with the _Cisalpine_; the _Cisalpine_ with the _Roman_;—either of them with the KING of SARDINIA, with _Tuscany_, or with _Naples_; and the greater Powers may mediate, or embroil the quarrel, may offer their protection, and talk of their Dignity:—But the question does not lie there.—_France_ has the power and the will to controul, to oppress them altogether; to limit or extend their Boundaries, as she sees good; to approve or annul their Internal Regulations, as well as their stipulations with each other: And while she has that power, whether it be by strength in herself, or by the sufferance of others; whether she may choose to vex and harass them in mass, or detail; to keep peace between them, or to set them at variance; to work their revolutions by her own arms, or to delegate that sacred office to their neighbours; or, finally, to insist upon their performing it each for themselves;—the result to us is the same. The People of Europe are equally enslaved;—it matters not whether they are manacled separately, or bolted to the links of a long chain which connects and coerces them in a fellowship of misery.

_Mortalia corda
Per gentes humilis stravit pavor._

To Us, the relation of these unhappy Powers, is either that of Friends forced into a Foreign Army to fight against us, or placed, hand-cuffed, on the Deck of a Line of Battle Ship to receive our fire—or it is that of a Captive languishing in a Dungeon against which We are making an attack, and who does not dare to acknowledge his Friend, till he can hail him as his Deliverer.

The Contest between _Great Britain_ and _France_, then, is not for the existence of the former only, but for the Freedom of the World. To look to partial Interests, to talk of partial Successes, as bearing upon the main object and general issue of the War, is to take a narrow and pitiful view of the most momentous and most tremendous subject that ever was brought under the consideration of mankind.

If _Great Britain_, insensible of what she owes to herself and to the World, flinches (for she _cannot fall_), in the Contest;—she throws away not herself alone, but the peace and happiness of Nations. If she maintain herself stoutly;—to speculate on the mode, the time, the means by which success adequate to the immensity of the object at stake is to be attained, were, indeed, presumptuous;—but We risk, without apprehension of being thought sanguine in our hopes and expectations, or of being contradicted by the event, the sentiment of the greatest Orator of ancient times—“It is not, it cannot be possible, that an Empire founded on injustice, on rapacity, on perfidy, on the contempt and disregard of everything sacred towards God, or among Men;—it is not possible that such an Empire should endure.”

NOTES TO “NEW MORALITY”.

JOSEPH PRIESTLEY, LL.D. (page 278).

“I have read a communication from GEORGE III. to one of his ministers, on the subject of the riots in which PRIESTLEY’S house was burned. HIS MAJESTY says, in his short emphatic way, that the riots must be stopped _immediately_; that no man’s house must be left in peril; and then he orders the march of certain troops, &c., to restore peace; and concludes with saying that, as the mischief did occur, it was impossible not to be pleased at its having fallen on PRIESTLEY rather than another, that he might _feel_ the wickedness of the doctrines of democracy which he was propagating.”—_J. W. Croker_ (_MS._).—[ED.]

MADAME DE STAEL (page 282).

“MADAME DE STAEL was at Mickleham, in Surrey, in 1793, with Talleyrand, Narbonne, Jaucourt, Guibert (who proposed to her), and others. There was not a little scandal about her relations with Narbonne (see Fanny Burney’s Letters). Narbonne’s place was supplied by Benjamin Constant, who had a very great influence over her, as in return she had over him. At Coppet, she found consolation in a young officer of Swiss origin, named Rocca, twenty-three years her junior, whom she married privately in 1811. She had married Baron de Stael in 1786, and in 1797 they separated. He died in 1802; and she in 1817.”—_Life of Mad. de Stael, by A. Stevens_, 1880.

“On the 28th of January” (says Crabb Robinson in his _Diary_, 1804), “I first waited on MADAME DE STAEL. I was shown into her bedroom, for which, not knowing Parisian customs, I was unprepared. She was sitting, most decorously, in her bed, and writing. She had her night-cap on, and her face was not made up for the day. It was by no means a captivating spectacle, but I had a very cordial reception, and two bright black eyes smiled benignantly on me. After a warm expression of her pleasure at making my acquaintance, she dismissed me till three o’clock. On my return then I found a very different person——the accomplished Frenchwoman surrounded by admirers, some of whom were themselves distinguished. Among them was the aged WIELAND. There was on this, and, I believe, on almost every other, occasion, but one lady among the guests: in this instance FRAU VON KALB. MADAME DE STAEL did not affect to conceal her preference for the society of men to that of her own sex.”

COUNT D’ORSAY related of MADAME DE STAEL, whose character was discussed, that one day, being on a sofa with MADAME DE RÉCAMIER, one who placed himself between them exclaimed: “Me voilà entre la beauté et l’esprit!” She replied: “That is the first time I was ever complimented for beauty!” MADAME DE RÉCAMIER was thought the handsomest woman in Paris, but was by no means famed for _esprit_.—_Crabb Robinson’s Diary._

“MADAME DE STAEL was a perfect aristocrat, and her sympathies were wholly with the great and prosperous. She saw nothing in England but the luxury, stupidity, and pride of the Tory aristocracy, and the intelligence and magnificence of the Whig aristocracy. The latter talked about truth and liberty and herself, and she supposed it was all as it should be. As to the millions, the people, she never enquired into their situation. She had a horror of the _canaille_, but anything of _sangre azul_ had a charm for her. When she was dying she said; ‘Let me die in peace; let my last moments be undisturbed’. Yet she ordered the cards of every visitor to be brought to her. Among them was one from the DUC DE RICHELIEU. ‘What!’ exclaimed she, indignantly; ‘what! have you sent away the DUKE? Hurry. Fly after him. Bring him back. Tell him that though I die for all the world, I live for _him_.’”—_Bowring’s Autobr. Recollections_, pp. 375–6.

MADAME DE STAEL prepared her _bons-mots_ with elaborate care, some being borrowed.... She was ugly, and not of an intellectual ugliness. Her features were coarse, and the ordinary expression rather vulgar. She had an ugly mouth, and one or two irregularly prominent teeth, which perhaps gave her countenance an habitual gaiety. Her eye was full, dark, and expressive; and when she declaimed, which was almost whenever she spoke, she looked eloquent, and one forgot that she was plain. On the whole, she was singularly unfeminine; and if, in conversation, one forgot she was ugly, one forgot also that she was a woman.—_J. W. Croker’s Note-Books._—[ED.]

THE REV. GILBERT WAKEFIELD (page 284).

“It is well known that the French Revolution turned the brains of many of the noblest youths in England. Indeed when such men as COLERIDGE, WORDSWORTH, SOUTHEY, caught the infection, no wonder that those who partook of their sensibility, but had a very small portion of their intellect, were carried away. Many were ruined by the errors into which they were betrayed; many also lived to smile at the follies of their youth. ‘I am no more ashamed of having been a Republican,’ said SOUTHEY, ‘than I am of having been a child.’ The opinions held led to many political prosecutions, and I naturally had much sympathy with the sufferers. I find in my journal, Feb. 21, 1799 (says Crabb Robinson): ‘An interesting and memorable day. It was the day on which GILBERT WAKEFIELD was convicted of a seditious libel, and sentenced to two years’ imprisonment. This he suffered in Dorchester Gaol, which he left only to die. Originally of the Established Church, he became a Unitarian, and Professor at the Hackney College. By profession he was a scholar. His best known work was an edition of Lucretius. He had written against PORSON’S edition of the _Hecuba_ of Euripides.’ It is said that PORSON was at a dinner-party at which toasts were going round, and a name, accompanied by an appropriate sentence from Shakespeare, was required from each of the guests in succession. Before PORSON’S turn came, he had disappeared beneath the table, and was supposed to be insensible to what was going on. This, however, was not the case, for when a toast was required of him, he staggered up and gave: ‘Gilbert Wakefield—what’s _Hecuba_ to him, or he to _Hecuba_?’ WAKEFIELD was a political fanatic. He had the pale complexion and mild features of a Saint, was a most gentle creature in domestic life, and a very amiable man; but when he took part in any religious or political controversy, his pen was dipped in gall. The occasion of the imprisonment before alluded to was a letter in reply to WATSON, Bishop of Llandaff, who had written a pamphlet exhorting the people to loyalty. WAKEFIELD asserted that the poor, the labouring classes; could lose nothing by French conquest. Referring to the fable of the Ass and the Trumpeter, he said: ‘Will the enemy make me carry two panniers?’ and declared that, if the French came, they would find him at his post with the illustrious dead.”—[ED.]

JOHN THELWALL (page 284).

“COLERIDGE and SOUTHEY spoke of THELWALL, calling him merely ‘John’: SOUTHEY said: ‘He is a good-hearted man; besides we ought never to forget that he was once as near as possible being hanged, as there is some merit in _that_’.”—_Crabb Robinson’s Diary._—[ED.]

JEAN PAUL MARAT (page 284).

The following remarkable account of this scientific monster is given in an “Historical Account of the Warrington Academy, an institution in Lancashire,” published in the _Monthly Repository_, by the Rev. W. Turner, of Wakefield.

“After the departure of DR. REINHOLD FORSTER, various unsuccessful attempts were made to engage a foreigner in the capacity of teacher of the modern languages—a M. FANTIN LA TOUR, a M. LE MAITRE, _alias_ MARA, and a MR. LEWIS GUERY; but none of them continued for any length of time.... There is great reason to believe that LE MAITRE, _alias_ MARA, was the infamous MARAT.... It is known that he was in England about this time [1774], and published in London “A Philosophical Essay on the connection between the Body and the Soul of Man,” and, somewhere in the country, had a principal hand in printing, in quarto, a work of considerable ability, but of a seditious tendency, entitled—‘_The Chains of Slavery: a work wherein the clandestine and villainous Attempts of Princes to ruin Liberty are pointed out, and the dreadful Scenes of Despotism disclosed, etc.; London, sold by J. Almon.... T. Payne, and Richardson and Urquhart, 1774._’ MARA, as his name is spelt in the Minutes of the Academy, very soon left Warrington, whence he went to Oxford, robbed the Ashmolean Museum, escaped to Ireland, was apprehended in Dublin, tried and convicted in Oxford, under the name of LE MAITRE, and sentenced to the hulks at Woolwich. Here one of his old pupils at Warrington, a native of Bristol, saw him. He was afterwards a Bookseller in Bristol, and failed; was confined in the gaol of that city, but released by the Society there for the relief of prisoners confined for small sums. One of that society, who had previously relieved him in Bristol Gaol, afterwards saw him in the National Assembly in Paris in 1792.”

Grave doubts have, however, been thrown upon the accuracy of the above statement by HENRY A. BRIGHT, B.A., in a paper published in the _Transactions of the Historic Society of Lancashire and Cheshire_, 8vo, vol. xi., session 1858–9. Yet it was an establishment that might have attracted such a mind as Marat’s. “At WARRINGTON ACADEMY (says Mr. Bright), were collected some of the noblest _literati_ of their day. Here the free thought of the English Presbyterians first began to crystallize into the Unitarian theology which they have since maintained. Here, for a time, was the centre of the liberal politics and the literary taste of the entire county.... The Academy was founded in 1757, and was closed in 1786. It was visited by John Howard, W. Roscoe, T. Pennant, Currie, the biographer of Burns, &c. The first Tutors appointed were DR. JOHN TAYLOR of Norwich, Tutor in Divinity, MR. HOLT of Kirkdale, Tutor in Natural Philosophy, MR. DYER of London, Tutor in Languages and Polite Literature, whose duties, however, were taken by MR. (afterwards the REV. DR.) AIKIN, father of the celebrated Physician and Mrs. Barbauld. DR. PRIESTLEY succeeded DR. AIKIN.”

DR. PRIESTLEY, who is addressed by COLERIDGE as “Patriot, and Saint, and Sage,” was succeeded by JOHN REINHOLD FORSTER, a German Scholar and Naturalist, who accompanied Captain Cook in his second voyage, DR. ENFIELD, author of _The Speaker_, and the REV. GILBERT WAKEFIELD, were Tutors. Among the students were MR. SERJEANT HEYWOOD; ARCHIBALD HAMILTON ROWAN, the Irish rebel; the REV. H. MALTHUS; LORD ENNISMORE; SIR JAMES CARNEGIE of Southesk; MR. HENRY BEAUFOY, etc., all strong Whigs. The name of neither MARA nor LE MAITRE appears on the Minutes of the Academy.

For the latest contribution to the history of MARAT’S sojourn in England we are indebted to the researches of MR. H. MORSE STEPHENS, of Balliol College, Oxford, who, in his elaborate and painstaking _History of the French Revolution_ (1886), which includes facts unknown to Carlyle and earlier historians, gives the following account of that “arch-destroyer”; but, as he calls him, “a much maligned individual”:—

“JEAN PAUL MARAT,” says he, “was born at Boudry, near Neufchatel, in Switzerland, on April 13, 1742. His father, who spelt his name ‘MARA,’ was a physician of some ability, and on being exiled from his native island of Sardinia for abandoning the Roman Catholic religion, had taken up his residence in Switzerland; and married a Swiss Protestant. JEAN PAUL was the eldest of three sons; his next brother settled down as a watchmaker at Geneva, and his youngest brother entered the service of the Empress Catherine, and distinguished himself in the Russian army under the title of the Chevalier de Boudry. JEAN PAUL was from his childhood of an intensely sensitive and excitable disposition, and also so quick at his books that he became a good classical scholar, and acquainted with most modern languages. As his chief taste, however, seemed to be for natural science, he was intended to follow his father’s profession, and was, at the age of eighteen, sent to study medicine at the University of Bordeaux. He there obtained a thorough knowledge of his profession, but devoted himself particularly to the sciences of optics and electricity. From Bordeaux he went to Paris, where he effected a remarkable cure of a disease of the eyes, which had been abandoned as hopeless both by physicians and quacks, by means of electricity. From Paris he went to Amsterdam, and, finally, to LONDON, where he set up in practice in _Church Street, Soho_, then one of the most fashionable districts in London. He must soon have formed a good practice, for he stopped in London, with occasional visits to Dublin and Edinburgh, for ten years, and only left it to take up an appointment at the French court. While in London he wrote his first book, and in 1772 and 1773, he published the first two volumes of a philosophical and physiological _Essay on Man_. The point he discussed was the old problem of the relation between body and mind, and he treated it in a very interesting manner from the physiological point of view. He held some extraordinary theory about the existence of some fluid in the veins which acted on the mind; which, however, does not impair the interest of his inquiries into the cause of dreams, or diminish the respect felt for his wide reading and extensive knowledge both of ancient and modern philosophical and medical authors. He shows a wide knowledge of Latin and Greek literature, and while writing in good English freely quotes French, German, Italian, and Spanish writers. In one part of his book he declared that it was ridiculous for any one to make psychical researches without having some knowledge of anatomy and physiology, and openly attacked HELVÉTIUS for despising scientific knowledge in his famous _De l’Esprit_. VOLTAIRE naturally took the side of HELVÉTIUS, and did the young author the honour of noticing, and very severely criticising, his book. MARAT himself translated it into French, and published it at Amsterdam in 1775. His next work was of a political character. He had got mixed up with some of the popular societies in England, which were striving to obtain a thorough reform of the representation of the people in the House of Commons, and, in 1774, published a work, which he entitled THE CHAINS OF SLAVERY. In this book, which is partly historical and partly political, he begs the electors to take more care in the choice of their representatives. It is written in a very declamatory style, and strikes the note of the responsibility of representatives to their constituents, which is the key-note of all his political ideas. The book is published in quarto, and is printed on fine paper, so that it can hardly have been meant to appeal to the populace, but it, nevertheless, procured him the honorary membership of the popular societies of _Newcastle_ and other great northern cities. Subsequently he again returned to his profession, and after publishing a medical tract in 1775, of which no copy is known to exist, he published _An Inquiry into the Nature, Cause, and Cure of a singular Disease of the Eyes_, in 1776. [See _Academy_ of September 23, 1882.] In this little pamphlet there is no violent language; it describes the disease and the cases he had cured in perfectly simple language, and shows, at least, that he was no mere quack, but a scientific physician. On June 30, 1775, he had, while on a visit to _Scotland_, received the honorary degree of M.D. from the _University of St. Andrews_ for his eminence as a doctor, and had probably received similar compliments from other Universities, because, on June 24, 1777, JEAN PAUL MARAT, ‘médecin de plusieurs facultés d’Angleterre,’ was appointed, for his good character and high reputation as a doctor, physician to the body-guard of the Comte d’Artois, with a salary of a thousand livres a year and allowances. To take up this court appointment he moved to Paris, and soon acquired a large practice there, and the name of ‘physician of the incurables,’ from the number of hopeless cases he was successful in treating. He also moved in the best society about the court, and won the affections of the _Marquise de l’Aubespine_ for saving her life. For some reason or other, most probably because he had obtained a competent fortune, and desired to satisfy his ambition, he resigned his court appointment in 1783, and devoted himself to science. He had long observed the phenomena of Heat, Light, and Electricity, and in the course of the next five years published the result of his experiments, and presented them to the _Academy of Sciences_. His hard work won him the friendship of BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, but the violence with which he attacked his adversaries, and his audacity in doubting the conclusions of NEWTON, prevented him from obtaining a seat in the Academy of Sciences. When he recognised that this hostility to himself prevented due recognition of his work, he determined to win the approbation of the Academy by concealing his name; and his translation of the _Optics_ of NEWTON, which was covered by the name of _M. de Beauzée_, and published in 1788, was at once crowned by the very Academy which had rejected him.

“His political work during these years was confined to a treatise, in imitation of BECCARIA, on the subject of Punishments. The approach of the States-General, however, revived his political enthusiasm, and in the March of 1789, when he believed himself to be dying, he published his _Offrande à la Patrie_, which was followed in quick succession by a supplement and other pamphlets. Of these, distinctly the most able is the _Tableau des Vices de la Constitution Anglaise_, which he presented to the Assembly in September, 1789. In it he points out what he had learnt in the popular societies of England, that the English people was by no means so well governed as it was supposed to be; that the influence of the king and the ministry was overwhelming through the extent of patronage, and that the rich there bought seats in the House of Commons as they bought estates.

“MARAT then felt that he could not express himself frequently enough in pamphlets, and on September 12 appeared the first number of a journal written entirely by himself, called the JOURNAL DU PEUPLE, which title was changed to that of _Ami du Peuple_, or _The People’s Friend_, with the fourth number.

“To understand the man, it is necessary to get rid of preconceived ideas. Suspicious and irritable, excitable and sensitive to an extreme, he attacked everybody, and attacked them all with unaccustomed violence; but with all this, he was in private life a highly educated gentleman. The extent of his attainments appears from his numerous works, and it must be remembered that he could not for years have been a fashionable physician and held a court appointment without being perfectly polite and well-bred. His faults arose from his irritable and suspicious nature, and years of persecution made him half-insane towards the end of his life; but in September, 1789, he was in perfect possession of his senses, and the very popularity of his journal showed how congenial his gospel of suspicion was to the Parisians.”—[ED.]

JEAN PAUL MARAT’S SISTER.

The Right Hon. J. W. Croker, in a letter to John Winter Jones, dated 23rd October, 1854, says that COLIN, who had been Marat’s printer or publisher, “introduced him to Marat’s sister, who was as like her brother, he said—and as from all pictures and busts I readily believed—as ‘_deux gouttes d’eau_’. She was very small, very ugly, very sharp, and a great politician. Her ostensible livelihood was making watch-springs, but she told me she was pretty easy in her circumstances, and I either gathered from her, or saw cause to suspect, that she had some secret charitable help.”—[ED.]

LARÉVEILLÈRE-LEPAUX (page 283).

LARÉVEILLÈRE-LEPAUX left orders in his will that his _Memoirs_ were to be printed and published. His heirs were not proud of the part the DIRECTOR had played, so, after complying with the terms of his will and _printing_ the _Memoirs_, they _destroyed the whole issue at once_; and the only copy extant is the one which, in accordance with the law of France, was sent to the _Bibliothèque Nationale_ at Paris.

THE THEOPHILANTHROPISTS.

These (_Gr._ “Lovers of Gods and Men”) were a sect of _Deists_ which appeared in France amid the confusion and disorder of the first Revolution. While the State was indifferent to all forms of Religion, and the Republican Directory was afraid of the Christianity which prevailed in the Church, a felt consciousness of the necessity of some religion led many to adopt a form of worship adapted to Natural Religion.

“This Sect” (says SOUTHEY, in the _Quarterly Review_, vol. xxviii.) “began with more circumstances in their favour than ever occurred to facilitate the establishment of a religion or of a sect. Many persons of considerable influence and reputation engaged in the project with zeal, and it was patronised by LA RÉVEILLÈRE LÊPAUX, one of the Directory.... His motives for putting himself at the head of the Theophilanthropists are said to have been twofold: if the scheme succeeded, he intended to become their High Priest; and he hated Christianity. Through his means the Theophilanthropists obtained a decree from the Government giving them a right of holding their meetings in the Churches, as national buildings, which were open to any religion, but belonged to none.

“Nearly twenty Churches in Paris were taken possession of; but by occupying so many, they injured themselves.... They took up too extended a position, and had neither numbers nor means answerable to the scale upon which they set out.... Their _Service_ began at noon, and lasted about an hour and a half. It was, they said, a worship for those who had no other, and a moral society for those who had. The _Ritual_ consisted of Prayers, Hymns original or selected from the best French Poets, readings from their Manual, and Discourses. The _Hymns_ were, in general, judicious, and set to good music, and the _Prayers_ well composed; but had their books been stript of all that they had borrowed from the Gospel, and from the works of Christian writers, they would have been meagre indeed. In one part of the Service there was a short pause, during which the congregation were expected to consider each in silence what his own conduct had been since the last of these meetings. A basket of fruit or flowers, according to the season, was placed upon the altar, as a mark of acknowledgment for the bounties of the Creator; and over the altar was the inscription, _Nous croyons à l’existence de Dieu, et à l’immortalité de l’âme_.... LA RÉVEILLÈRE, in a speech at the Institute, declaiming against Christianity, as being opposed to the liberty of mankind, expressed his wish that a form of religion were adopted, which should have only _a couple of articles_. He wished also for a religion without priests; and this, it was pleasantly observed, would be like a Directory without a Director.

“This was the _Creed of the Theophilanthropists_. And on each side of it, the following sentences were inscribed in their temples, to take place of the Decalogue:—

“‘Adore God, cherish your fellow-creatures; render yourselves useful to
your
country.
Good is whatever tends to preserve man, or to perfectionate him.
Evil is whatever tends to destroy him, or to deteriorate him.
Children, honour your fathers and mothers; obey them with affection,
solace
their old age. Fathers and mothers, instruct your children.
Wives, behold in your husbands the heads of your houses. Husbands, love
your wives, and render yourselves mutually happy.’

“At _Marriage_ the bride and bridegroom were to be coupled with ribands, or garlands of flowers, the ends of which were to be held on each side by the elders of their respective families. The Bride received a ring from her husband, and a medal of union from the head of the family. There was a rite also for infants.... When a member _died_, the other members of the Society were invited to place a flower upon the urn, and pray the Creator to receive the deceased into his bosom. The Decades and National Holidays were observed by these Anti-Christians, and they had four Holidays of their own, for Socrates, St. Vincent de Paule, Jean Jacques Rousseau, and Washington,—oddly assorted names! Two of them, however, stand well together in this kalendar, for the one, who was a Christian, established the Foundling Hospital at Paris; and the other, who was a sentimentalist, a philosopher, and a Theophilanthropist, sent his own children to it....

“LA RÉVEILLÈRE used to take praise to himself for having, in his Directorial character, humbled the Pope and the great Turk. The Anti-Christian language of the Directory, and its persecution of the Clergy, are imputed to him; so far his colleagues were willing to go with him; but his zeal for Deism they regarded as ridiculous.... In the way of pecuniary aid, he could obtain little:—_beaucoup d’argent_ was what the Directory were accustomed to demand, not to give....

“Their _Service_ at Paris was numerously attended while it was a new spectacle, and the subject of conversation; but more than two-thirds of the persons thus assembled were idlers. But this concourse soon abated; there was nothing attractive in the ceremonies, nothing to impose upon the imagination or the senses. A propagandist reported from Montreuil that the readings and orations had been heard by an audience _avide de morale_, but he had observed with pain that the _matériel_ of the worship was not what it should have been.... It was got up at Bourges in better style; the orator there officiated in a white sash ornamented with blue flowers, before an altar upon which an orange tree was placed: and at the _fête des époux_, the Theophilanthropists carried _two pigeons_ in procession, as an emblem of conjugal tenderness, and placed them upon the altar of the country!”

* * * * *

[The literary association of LAMB with COLERIDGE and SOUTHEY [says SIR T. N. TALFOURD, in his life of LAMB,] drew upon him the hostility of the young scorners of _The Anti-Jacobin_, who, luxuriating in boyish pride and aristocratic patronage, tossed the arrows of their wit against all charged with innovation, whether in politics or poetry, and cared little whom they wounded. No one could be more innocent than LAMB of political heresy; no one more strongly opposed to new theories in morality—which he always regarded with disgust. The very first number of _The Anti-Jacobin Review and Magazine_ [this was, however, a new work, by different hands, but imbued with the same spirit as _The Anti-Jacobin_] was adorned by a caricature of GILLRAY’S, in which COLERIDGE and SOUTHEY were introduced with asses’ heads, and LLOYD and LAMB as toad and frog. In the number of July, 1798 [of the original _Anti-Jacobin_] appeared the well-known poem of _New Morality_, in which all the prominent objects of the hatred of these champions of religion and order were introduced as offering homage to LEPAUX, a French charlatan,—of whose existence LAMB had never even heard. Not content with thus confounding persons of the most opposite opinions and the most various characters in one common libel, the party returned to the charge in their number for September [of _The Anti-Jacobin Review_], and denounced the young poets in a parody on the _Ode to the Passions_, under the title of _The Anarchists_. They are reprinted in the present volume.—ED.]

[The cause of Coleridge, Southey, Lloyd, and Lamb, being thus satirized as persons of the same politics, was the conjoint publication of their works. In the spring of 1796, COLERIDGE published vol. i. of his _Juvenile Poems_, including three Sonnets by LAMB; in May, 1797, there appeared a new edition, with many poems by LLOYD and LAMB. _The Fall of Robespierre_, an historic drama, was published Sept. 22, 1794: the first act written by COLERIDGE, the second and third by SOUTHEY. It is not difficult to understand why COLERIDGE was so severely attacked by the Government writers. In 1795, at the early age of 23, he delivered, at Bristol, some public lectures, reflecting in warm terms on the measures of PITT. Three of them were published at Bristol at the end of 1795—the first two together, with the title of _Conciones ad Populum_; the third as _The Plot Discovered_. The eloquent passage in conclusion of the first of these addresses was written by SOUTHEY. That he was considered by ministers a dangerous character is proved by his having been for some months watched by a Government spy while residing at Stowey, providing for his scanty maintenance by writing verses for _The Morning Post_. It was his fortune also to excite the ire of BUONAPARTE, by his anti-gallican writings in the same paper; and a benevolent intimation of his danger by Baron von Humboldt and Cardinal Fesch alone prevented his being arrested while in Italy. (See p. 284.)