January, 1794.
The total ſuppreſſion of all religious worſhip in this country is an event of too ſingular and important a nature not to have been commented upon largely by the Engliſh papers; but, though I have little new to add on the ſubject, my own reflections have been too much occupied in conſequence for me to paſs it over in ſilence.
I am yet in the firſt emotions of wonder: the vaſt edifice which had been raiſed by the blended efforts of religion and ſuperſtition, which had been conſecrated by time, endeared by national taſte, and become neceſſary by habit, has now diſappeared, and ſcarcely left a veſtige of its ruins. To thoſe who revert only to the genius of the Catholic religion, and to former periods of the hiſtory of France, this event muſt ſeem incredible; and nothing but conſtant opportunities of marking itſ gradual approach can reconcile it to probability. The pious chriſtian and the inſidious philoſopher have equally contributed to the general effect, though with very different intentions: the one, conſulting only his reaſon, wiſhed to eſtabliſh a pure and ſimple mode of worſhip, which, diveſted of the allurements of ſplendid proceſſions and impoſing ceremonies, ſhould teach the people their duty, without captivating their ſenſes; the other, better acquainted with French character, knew how little theſe views were compatible with it, and hoped, under the ſpeciouſ pretext of baniſhing the too numerous ornaments of the Catholic practice, to ſhake the foundations of Chriſtianity itſelf. Thus united in their efforts, though diſſimilar in their motives, all parties were eager at the beginning of the revolution for a reform in the Church: the wealth of the Clergy, the monaſtic eſtabliſhments, the ſupernumerary ſaints, were devoted and attacked without pity, and without regret; and, in the zeal and hurry of innovation, the deciſive meaſure, which reduced eccleſiaſtics to ſmall penſions dependent on the ſtate, was carried, before thoſe who really meant well were aware of its conſequences. The next ſtep was, to make the receiving theſe penſions ſubject to an oath, which the ſelfiſh philoſopher, who can coldly calculate on, and triumph in, the weakneſs of human nature, foreſaw would be a brand of diſcord, certain to deſtroy the ſole force which the Clergy yet poſſeſſed—their union, and the public opinion.
Unfortunately, theſe views were not diſappointed: conviction, intereſt, or fear, prevailed on many to take the oath; while doubt, worldly improvidence, or a ſcrupulous piety, deterred others. A ſchiſm took place between the jurors and nonjurorſ—the people became equally divided, and adhered either to the one or the other, as their habits or prepoſſeſſions directed them. Neither party, as it may be imagined, could ſee themſelves deprived of any portion of the public eſteem, without concern, perhaps without rancour; and their mutual animoſity, far from gaining proſelytes to either, contributed only to the immediate degradation and future ruin of both. Thoſe, however, who had not taken the preſcribed oath, were in general more popular than what were called the conſtitutionaliſts, and the influence they were ſuppoſed to exert in alienating the minds of their followers from the new form of government, ſupplied the republican party with a pretext for propoſing their baniſhment.*
*The King's exertion of the power veſted in him by the conſtitution, by putting a temporary negative on this decree, it is well known, was one of the pretexts for dethroning him.
At the King's depoſition this decree took place, and ſuch of the nonjuring prieſts as were not maſſacred in the priſons, or eſcaped the ſearch, were to be embarked for Guiana. The wiſer and better part of thoſe whoſe compliances entitled them to remain, were, I believe, far from conſidering this perſecution of their opponents as a triumph—to thoſe who did, it was of ſhort duration. The Convention, which had hitherto attempted to diſguiſe its hatred of the profeſſion by cenſure and abuſe of a part of its members, began now to ridicule the profeſſion itſelf: ſome repreſented it as uſeleſſ—others as pernicious and irreconcileable with political freedom; and a diſcourſe* was printed, under the ſanction of the Aſſembly, to prove, that the only feaſible republic muſt be ſupported by pure atheiſm.
* Extracts from the Report of Anacharſis Cloots, member of the Committee of Public Inſtruction, printed by order of the National Convention: "Our Sans-culotteſ want no other ſermon but the rights of man, no other doctrine but the conſtitutional precepts and practice, nor any other church than where the ſection or the club hold their meetings, &c. "The propagation of the rights of man ought to be preſented to the aſtoniſhed world pure and without ſtain. It is not by offering ſtrange gods to our neighbours that we ſhall operate their converſion. We can never raiſe them from their abject ſtate by erecting one altar in oppoſition to another. A trifling hereſy iſ infinitely more revolting than having no religion at all. Nature, like the ſun, diffuſes her light without the aſſiſtance of prieſtſ and veſtals. While we were conſtitutional heretics, we maintained an army of an hundred thouſand prieſts, who waged war equally with the Pope and the diſciples of Calvin. We cruſhed the old prieſthood by means of the new, and while we compelled every ſect to contribute to the payment of a pretended national religion, we became at once the abhorrence of all the Catholics and Proteſtants in Europe. The repulſion of our religious belief counteracted the attraction of our political principles.—But truth is at length triumphant, and all the ill-intentioned ſhall no more be able to detach our neighbourſ from the dominion of the rights of man, under pretext of a religiouſ dominion which no longer exiſts.—The purpoſe of religion is no how ſo well anſwered as by preſenting carte blanche to the abuſed world. Every one will then be at liberty to form his ſpiritual regimen to his own taſte, till in the end the invincible aſcendant of reaſon ſhall teach him that the Supreme Being, the Eternal Being, is no other than Nature uncreated and uncreatable; and that the only Providence is the aſſociation of mankind in freedom and equality!— This ſovereign providence affords comfort to the afflicted, rewardſ the good, and puniſhes the wicked. It exerciſes no unjuſt partialities, like the providence of knaves and fools. Man, when free, wants no other divinity than himſelf. This god will not coſt us a ſingle farthing, not a ſingle tear, nor a drop of blood. From the ſummit of our mountain he hath promulgated his laws, traced in evident characters on the tables of nature. From the Eaſt to the Weſt they will be underſtood without the aid of interpreters, comments, or miracles. Every other ritual will be torn in pieces at the appearance of that of reaſon. Reaſon dethrones both the Kingſ of the earth, and the Kings of heaven.—No monarch above, if we wiſh to preſerve our republic below. "Volumes have been written to determine whether or no a republic of Atheiſts could exiſt. I maintain that every other republic is a chimera. If you once admit the exiſtence of a heavenly Sovereign, you introduce the wooden horſe within your wallſ!—What you adore by day will be your deſtruction at night. "A people of theiſts neceſſarily become revelationiſts, that is to ſay, ſlaves of prieſts, who are but religious go-betweens, and phyſicians of damned ſouls. "If I were a ſcoundrel, I ſhould make a point of exclaiming againſt atheiſm, for a religious maſk is very convenient to a traitor. "The intolerance of truth will one day proſcribe the very name of temple 'fanum,' the etymology of fanaticiſm. "We ſhall inſtantly ſee the monarchy of heaven condemned in its turn by the revolutionary tribunal of victorious Reaſon; for Truth, exalted on the throne of Nature, is ſovereignly intolerant. "The republic of the rights of man is, properly ſpeaking, neither theiſtical nor atheiſtical—it is nihiliſtical."
Many of the moſt eminent conforming Prelates and Clergy were arreſted, and even individuals, who had the reputation of being particularly devout, were marked as objects of perſecution. A new calendar waſ deviſed, which excluded the ancient feſtivals, and limited public worſhip to the decade, or tenth day, and all obſervance of the Sabbath waſ interdicted. The priſons were crouded with ſufferers in the cauſe of religion, and all who had not the zeal or the courage of martyrs, abſtained from manifeſting any attachment to the Chriſtian faith.
While this conſternation was yet recent, the Deputies on miſſion in the departments ſhut up the churches entirely: the refuſe of low clubs were paid and encouraged to break the windows and deſtroy the monuments; and theſe outrages, which, it was previouſly concerted, ſhould at firſt aſſume the appearance of popular tumult, were ſoon regulated and directed by the mandates of the Convention themſelves. The churches were again opened, an atheiſtic ritual, and licentious homilies,* were ſubſtituted for the proſcribed ſervice—and an abſurd and ludicrous imitation of the Greek mythology was exhibited, under the title of the Religion of Reaſon.—
* I have read a diſcourſe pronounced in a church at Paris, on the decade, ſo indecent and profane, that the moſt humble audience of a country-puppet ſhow in England would not have tolerated it.
On the principal church of every town was inſcribed, "The Temple of Reaſon;" and a tutelary goddeſs was inſtalled with a ceremony equally pedantic, ridiculous, and profane.*
* At Havre, the goddeſs of Reaſon was drawn on a car by four cart-horſes, and as it was judged neceſſary, to prevent accidents, that the horſes ſhould be conducted by thoſe they were accuſtomed to, the carters were likewiſe put in requiſition and furniſhed with cuiraſſes a l'antique from the theatre. The men, it ſeems, being neither martial nor learned, were not au fait at this equipment, and concluding it was only a waiſtcoat of ceremony, inveſted themſelves with the front behind, and the back part laced before, to the great amuſement of the few who were ſenſible of the miſtake.
Yet the philoſophers did not on this occaſion diſdain thoſe adventitiouſ aids, the uſe of which they had ſo much declaimed againſt while they were the auxiliaries of Chriſtianity.*
* Mr. Gibbon reproaches the Chriſtians with their adoption of the allurements of the Greek mythology.—The Catholics have been more hoſtilely deſpoiled by their modern perſecutors, and may retort that the religion of reaſon is a more groſs appeal to the ſenſes than the darkeſt ages of ſuperſtition would have ventured on.
Muſic, proceſſions, and decorations, which had been baniſhed from the ancient worſhip, were introduced in the new one, and the philoſophical reformer, even in the very attempt to eſtabliſh a religion purely metaphyſical, found himſelf obliged to inculcate it by a groſs and material idolatry.*—
* The French do not yet annex any other idea to the religion of reaſon than that of the female who performs the part of the goddeſs.
Thus, by ſubmitting his abſtractions to the genius of the people, and the imperfections of our nature, perhaps the beſt apology was offered for the errors of that worſhip which had been proſcribed, perſecuted, and ridiculed.
Previous to the tenth day, on which a celebration of this kind was to take place, a Deputy arrived, accompanied by the female goddeſs:* that is, (if the town itſelf did not produce one for the purpoſe,) a Roman dreſs of white ſatin was hired from the theatre, with which ſhe waſ inveſted—her head covered with a red cap, ornamented with oak leaveſ— one arm was reclined on a plough, the other graſped a ſpear—and her feet were ſupported by a globe, and environed by mutilated emblems of ſeodality. [It is not poſſible to explain this coſtume as appropriate.]
* The females who perſonated the new divinity were uſually ſelected from amongſt thoſe who "might make ſectaries of whom they bid but follow," but who were more conſpicuous for beauty than any other celeſtial attribute.—The itinerant goddeſs of the principal townſ in the department de la Somme was the miſtreſs of one Taillefer, a republican General, brother to the Deputy of the ſame name.—I know not, in this military government, whether the General's ſervices on the occaſion were included in his other appointments. At Amiens, he not only provided the deity, but commanded the detachment that ſecured her a ſubmiſſive adoration.
Thus equipped, the divinity and her appendages were borne on the ſhoulders of Jacobins "en bonnet rouge," and eſcorted by the National Guard, Mayor, Judges, and all the conſtituted authorities, who, whether diverted or indignant, were obliged to preſerve a reſpectful gravity of exterior. When the whole cavalcade arrived at the place appointed, the goddeſs was placed on an altar erected for the occaſion, from whence ſhe harangued the people, who, in return, proffered their adoration, and ſung the Carmagnole, and other republican hymns of the ſame kind. They then proceeded in the ſame order to the principal church, in the choir of which the ſame ceremonies were renewed: a prieſt was procured to abjure his faith and avow the whole of Chriſtianity an impoſture;* and the feſtival concluded with the burning of prayer-books, ſaints, confeſſionals, and every thing appropriated to the uſe of public worſhip.**—
*It muſt be obſerved, in juſtice to the French Clergy, that it waſ ſeldom poſſible to procure any who would conſent to this infamy. In ſuch caſes, the part was exhibited by a man hired and dreſſed for the purpoſe.—The end of degrading the profeſſion in the eyes of the people was equally anſwered. ** In many places, valuable paintings and ſtatues were burnt or diſfigured. The communion cups, and other church plate, were, after being exorciſed in Jacobin revels, ſent to the Convention, and the gold and ſilver, (as the author of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire invidiouſly expreſſes himſelf,) the pearls and jewels, were wickedly converted to the ſervice of mankind; as if any thing whoſe value is merely fictitious, could render more ſervice to mankind than when dedicated to an uſe which is equally the ſolace of the rich and the poor—which gratifies the eye without exciting cupidity, ſoothes the bed of ſickneſs, and heals the wounds of conſcience. Yet I am no advocate for the profuſe decorations of Catholic churches; and if I ſeem to plead in their behalf, it iſ that I recollect no inſtance where the depredators of them have appropriated the ſpoil to more laudable purpoſes.
The greater part of the attendants looked on in ſilent terror and aſtoniſhment; whilſt others, intoxicated, or probably paid to act thiſ ſcandalous farce, danced round the flames with an appearance of frantic and ſavage mirth.—It is not to be forgotten, that repreſentatives of the people often preſided as the high prieſts of theſe rites; and their official diſpatches to the convention, in which theſe ceremonies were minutely deſcribed, were always heard with burſts of applauſe, and ſanctioned by decrees of inſertion in the bulletin.*
* A kind of official newſpaper diſtributed periodically at the expence of Government in large towns, and paſted up in public placeſ—it contained ſuch news as the convention choſe to impart, which was given with the exact meaſure of truth or falſehood that ſuited the purpoſe of the day.
I have now conducted you to the period in which I am contemplating France in poſſeſſion of all the advantages which a total dereliction of religious eſtabliſhments can beſtow—at that conſummation to which the labours of modern philoſophers have ſo long tended.
Ye Shafteſburys, Bolingbrokes, Voltaires, and muſt I add the name of Gibbon,* behold yourſelves inſcribed on the regiſters of fame with a Laplanche, a Chenier, an Andre Dumont, or a Fouche!**—
* The elegant ſatiriſt of Chriſtianity will ſmile at the preſumption of ſo humble a cenſurer.—It is certain, the miſapplication only of ſuch ſplendid talents could embolden me to mention the name of the poſſeſſor with diminiſhed reſpect. ** Theſe are names too contemptible for notice, but for the miſchief to which they were inſtrumental—they were among the firſt and moſt remarkable perſecutors of religion.
Do not bluſh at the aſſociation; your views have been the ſame; and the ſubtle underminer of man's beſt comfort in the principles of hiſ religion, is even more criminal than him who prohibits the external exerciſe of it. Ridicule of the ſacred writings is more dangerous than burning them, and a ſneer at the miracles of the goſpel more miſchievouſ than diſfiguring the ſtatues of the evangeliſts; and it muſt be confeſſed that theſe Anti-chriſtian Iconoclaſts themſelves might probably have been content to "believe and ſay their prayers," had not the intolerance of philoſophy made them atheiſts and perſecutors.—The coarſe legend of "death is the ſleep of eternity,"* is only a compendium of the fine-drawn theories of the more elaborate materialiſt, and the depoſitaries of the dead will not corrupt more by the exhibition of this deſolating ſtandard, than the libraries of the living by the volumes which hold out the ſame oblivion to vice, and diſcouragement to virtue.—
* Poſts, bearing the inſcription "la mort eſt un ſommeil eternel," were erected in many public burying-grounds.—No other ceremony iſ obſerved with the dead than encloſing the body in ſome rough boards, and ſending it off by a couple of porters, (in their uſual garb,) attended by a municipal officer. The latter inſcribes on a regiſter the name of the deceaſed, who is thrown into a grave generally prepared for half a ſcore, and the whole buſineſs is finiſhed.
The great experiment of governing a civilized people without religion will now be made; and ſhould the morals, the manners, or happineſs of the French, be improved by it, the ſectaries of modern philoſophy may triumph. Should it happen otherwiſe, the Chriſtian will have an additional motive for cheriſhing his faith: but even the afflictions of humanity will not, I fear, produce either regret or conviction in hiſ adverſary; for the prejudices of philoſophers and ſyſtemiſts are incorrigible.*
* "Ce ne ſont point les philoſophes qui connoiſſent le mieux leſ hommes. Ils ne les voient qu'a travers les prejuges, et je ne fache aucun etat ou l'on en ait tant."—J. J. Rouſſeau. ["It is not among philoſophers that we are to look for the moſt perfect knowledge of human nature.—They view it only through the prejudices of philoſophy, and I know of no profeſſion where prejudices are more abundant.">[