March 1, 1794.
The freedom of the preſs is ſo perfectly well regulated, that it is not ſurprizing we are indulged with the permiſſion of ſeeing the public papers: yet this indulgence is often, I aſſure you, a ſource of much perplexity to me—our more intimate aſſociates know that I am a native of England, and as often as any debates of our Houſe of Commons are publiſhed, they apply to me for explanations which it is not always in my power to give them. I have in vain endeavoured to make them comprehend the nature of an oppoſition from ſyſtem, ſo that when they ſee any thing advanced by a member exactly the reverſe of truth, they are wondering how he can be ſo ill informed, and never ſuſpect him of ſaying what he doeſ not believe himſelf. It muſt be confeſſed, however, that our extractſ from the Engliſh papers often form ſo complete a contraſt with facts, that a foreigner unacquainted with the tactics of profeſſional patriotiſm, may very naturally read them with ſome ſurprize. A noble Peer, for example, (whoſe wiſdom is not to be diſputed, ſince the Abbe Mably calls him the Engliſh Socrates,*) aſſerts that the French troopſ are the beſt clothed in Europe; yet letters, of nearly the ſame date with the Earl's ſpeech, from two Generals and a Deputy at the head of different armies intreat a ſupply of covering for their denudated legions, and add, that they are obliged to march in wooden ſhoeſ!**
* It is ſurely a reflection on the Engliſh diſcernment not to have adopted this happy appellation, in which, however, as well as in many other parts of "the rights of Man and the Citizen," the Abbe ſeems to have conſulted his own zeal, rather than the noble Peer'ſ modeſty. ** If the French troops are now better clothed, it is the effect of requiſitions and pre-emptions, which have ruined the manufacturers. —Patriots of the North, would you wiſh to ſee our ſoldiers clothed by the ſame means?
—On another occaſion, your Britiſh Sage deſcribes, with great eloquence, the enthuſiaſm with which the youth of France "ſtart to arms at the call of the Convention;" while the peaceful citizen anticipates, with equal eagerneſs, the leſs glorious injunction to extract ſaltpetre.—The revolts, and the coercion, neceſſary to enforce the departure of the firſt levies (however fear, ſhame, and diſcipline, may have ſince made them ſoldiers, though not republicans) might have corrected the ardour of the orator's inventive talents; and the zeal of the French in manufacturing ſalpetre, has been of ſo ſlow a growth, that any reference to it is peculiarly unlucky. For ſeveral months the Convention haſ recommended, invited, intreated, and ordered the whole country to occupy themſelves in the proceſs neceſſary for obtaining nitre; but the republican enthuſiaſm was ſo tardy, that ſcarcely an ounce appeared, till a long liſt of ſound penal laws, with fines and impriſonments in every line, rouſed the public ſpirit more effectually.*
* Two years impriſonment was the puniſhment aſſigned to a Citizen who ſhould be found to obſtruct in any way the fabricating ſaltpetre. If you had a houſe that was adjudged to contain the materials required, and expoſtulated againſt pulling it down, the penalty was incurred.—I believe ſomething of this kind exiſted under the old government, the abuſes of which are the only parts the republic ſeems to have preſerved.
—Another cauſe alſo has much favoured the extenſion of this manufacture: the neceſſity of procuring gunpowder at any rate has ſecured an exemption from ſerving in the army to thoſe who ſhall be employed in making it.—*
* Many, under this pretext, even procured their diſcharge from the army; and it was eventually found requiſite to ſtop this commutation of ſervice by a decree.
—On this account vaſt numbers of young men, whoſe martial propenſitieſ are not too vehement for calculation, conſidering the extraction of ſaltpetre as more ſafe than the uſe of it, have ſeriouſly devoted themſelves to the buſineſs. Thus, between fear of the Convention and of the enemy, has been produced that enthuſiaſm which ſeems ſo grateful to Lord S____. Yet, if the French are ſtruck by the diſſimilitude of factſ with the language of your Engliſh patriots, there are other circumſtanceſ which appear ſtill more unaccountable to them. I acknowledge the word patriotiſm is not perfectly underſtood any where in France, nor do my priſon-aſſociates abound in it; but ſtill they find it difficult to reconcile the love of their country, ſo excluſively boaſted by certain ſenators, with their eulogiums on a government, and on men who avow an implacable hatred to it, and are the profeſſed agents of its future deſtruction. The Houſes of Lords and Commons reſound with panegyrics on France; the Convention with "delenda eſt Carthate"—"ces vilſ Inſulaireſ"—"de peuple marchand, boutiquier"—"ces laches Angloiſ". ("Carthage muſt be deſtroyed"—"thoſe vile Iſlanderſ"—"that nation of ſhopkeeperſ"—"thoſe cowardly Engliſhmen"—&c.)
The efforts of the Engliſh patriots overtly tend to the conſolidation of the French republic, while the demagogues of France are yet more ſtrenuous for the abolition of monarchy in England. The virtues of certain people called Muir and Palmer,* are at once the theme of Mr. Fox and Robeſpierre,** of Mr. Grey and Barrere,***, of Collot d'Herboiſ**** and Mr. Sheridan; and their fate is lamented as much at the Jacobins aſ at St. Stephen's.*****
* If I have not mentioned theſe gentlemen with the reſpect due to their celebrity, their friends muſt pardon me. To ſay truth, I did not at this time think of them with much complacence, as I had heard of them only from the Jacobins, by whom they were repreſented as the leaders of a Convention, which was to arm ninety thouſand men, for the eſtabliſhment of a ſyſtem ſimilar to that exiſting in France. **The French were ſo much miſled by the eloquence of theſe gentlemen in their favour, that they were all exhibited on the ſtage in red caps and cropped heads, welcoming the arrival of their Gallic friends in England, and triumphing in the overthrow of the Britiſh conſtitution, and the dethronement of the King. *** If we may credit the aſſertions of Barrere, the friendſhip of the Committee of Public Welfare was not merely verbal. He ſays, the ſecret regiſter of the Committee furniſhes proofs of their having ſent three frigates to intercept theſe diſtinguiſhed victims, whom their ungrateful country had ſo ignominiouſly baniſhed. **** This humane and ingenious gentleman, by profeſſion a player, iſ known likewiſe as the author of ſeveral farces and vaudevilles, and of the executions at Lyons.—It is aſſerted, that many of the inhabitants of this unfortunate city expiated under the Guillotine the crime of having formerly hiſſed Collot's ſucceſſful attempts on the ſtage. ***** The printing of a particular ſpeech was interdicted on account of its containing alluſions to certain circumſtances, the knowledge of which might be of diſſervice to their unfortunate friends during their trial.
—The conduct of Mr. Pitt is not more acrimoniouſly diſcuſſed at the Palais National than by a part of his colleagues; and the cenſure of the Britiſh government, which is now the order of the day at the Jacobins, iſ nearly the echo of your parliamentary debates.*
* Allowing for the difference of education in the orators, a journeyman ſhoemaker was, I think, as eloquent, and not more abuſive, than the facetious _ci-devant_ protege of Lord T____d.
—All this, however, does not appear to me out of the natural order of things; it is the ſorry hiſtory of oppoſition for a century and an half, and our political rectitude, I fear, is not increaſing: but the French, who are in their way the moſt corrupt people in Europe, have not hitherto, from the nature of their government, been familiar with thiſ particular mode of provoking corruption, nor are they at preſent likely to become ſo. Indeed, I muſt here obſerve, that your Engliſh Jacobins, if they are wiſe, ſhould not attempt to introduce the revolutionary ſyſtem; for though the total poſſeſſion of ſuch a government is very alluring, yet the prudence, which looks to futurity, and the incertitude of ſublunary events, muſt acknowledge it is "Caeſar or nothing;" and that it offers no reſource in caſe of thoſe ſegregations, which the jealouſy of power, or the appropriation of ſpoil, may occaſion, even amongſt the moſt virtuous aſſociates.—The eloquence of a diſcontented orator is here ſilenced, not by a penſion, but by a mandat d'arret; and the obſtinate patriotiſm, which with you could not be ſoftened with leſs than a participation of authority, is more cheaply ſecured by the Guillotine. A menace is more efficacious than a bribe, and in this reſpect I agree with Mr. Thomas Paine,* that a republic is undoubtedly more oeconomical than a monarchy; beſides, that being conducted on ſuch principles, it has the advantage of ſimplifying the ſcience of government, as it conſultſ neither the intereſts nor weakneſſes of mankind; and, diſdaining to adminiſter either to avarice or vanity, ſubdues its enemies by the ſole influence of terror.—*
* This gentleman's fate is truly to be pitied. After rejecting, aſ his friends aſſert, two hundred a year from the Engliſh Miniſtry, he is obliged now to be ſilent gratis, with the additional deſagrement of occupying a corner in the Luxembourg.
—Adieu!—Heaven knows how often I may have to repeat the word thuſ unmeaningly. I ſit here, like Pope's bard "lulled by ſoft zephyrſ through the broken pane," and ſcribbling high-ſounding phraſes of monarchy, patriotiſm, and republics, while I forget the humbler ſubject of our wants and embarraſſments. We can ſcarcely procure either bread, meat, or any thing elſe: the houſe is crouded by an importation of priſoners from Abbeville, and we are more ſtrictly guarded than ever. My friend ennuyes as uſual, and I grow impatient, not having ſang froid enough for a true French ennuie in a ſituation that would tempt one to hang one's ſelf.