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").