Again the extinction of the war in La Vendee is officially announced; and it is certain that the chiefs are now in treaty with government. Such a peace only implies, that the country is exhauſted, for it ſuffices to have read the treatment of theſe unhappy people to know that a reconciliation can neither be ſincere nor permanent. But whatever may be the eventual effect of this negotiation, it has been, for the preſent, the means of wreſting ſome unwilling conceſſions from the Aſſembly in favour of a free exerciſe of religion. No arrangement could ever be propoſed to the Vendeans, which did not include a toleration of Chriſtianity; and to refuſe that to patriots and republicans, which waſ granted to rebels and royaliſts, was deemed at this time neither reaſonable nor politic. A decree is therefore paſſed, authorizing people, if they can overcome all the annexed obſtacles, to worſhip God in they way they have been accuſtomed to.
The public hitherto, far from being aſſured or encouraged by this decree, appear to have become more timid and ſuſpicious; for it is conceived in ſo narrow and paltry a ſpirit, and expreſſed in ſuch malignant and illuſive terms, that it can hardly be ſaid to intend an indulgence. Of twelve articles of an act ſaid to be conceſſive, eight are prohibitory and reſtrictive; and a municipal officer, or any other perſon "in place or office," may controul at his pleaſure all religious celebrations. The cathedrals and pariſh churches yet ſtanding were ſeized on by the government at the introduction of the Goddeſſes of Reaſon, and the decree expreſſly declares that they ſhall not be reſtored or appropriated to their original uſes. Individuals, who have purchaſed chapels or churches, heſitate to ſell or let them, leſt they ſhould, on a change of politics, be perſecuted as the abettors of fanaticiſm; ſo that the long-deſired reſtoration of the Catholic worſhip makes but very ſlow progreſs.*—
* This decree prohibits any pariſh, community, or body of people collectively, from hiring or purchaſing a church, or maintaining a clergyman: it alſo forbids ringing a bell, or giving any other public notice of Divine Service, or even diſtinguiſhing any building by external ſigns of its being dedicated to religion.
—A few people, whoſe zeal overpowers their diſcretion, have ventured to have maſſes at their own houſes, but they are thinly attended; and on aſking any one if they have yet been to this ſort of conventicle, the reply is, "On new ſait pas trop ce que le decret veut dire; il faut voir comment cela tournera." ["One cannot rightly comprehend the decree—it will be beſt to wait and ſee how things go.">[ Such a diſtruſt is indeed very natural; for there are two ſubjects on which an inveterate hatred iſ apparent, and which are equally obnoxious to all ſyſtems and all partieſ in the Aſſembly—I mean Chriſtianity and Great Britain. Every day produces harangues againſt the latter; and Boiſſy d'Anglas has ſolemnly proclaimed, as the directing principle of the government, that the only negociation for peace ſhall be a new boundary deſcribed by the Northern conqueſts of the republic; and this modeſt diplomatic is ſupported by arguments to prove, that the commerce of England cannot be ruined on any other terms.*
* "How (exclaims the ſagacious Bourdon de l'Oiſe) can you hope to ruin England, if you do not keep poſſeſſion of the three great rivers." (The Rhine, the Meuſe, and the Scheldt.)
The debates of the Convention increaſe in variety and amuſement. Beſideſ the manual exerciſes of the members, the accuſations and retorts of unguarded choler, diſcloſe to us many curious truths which a politic unanimity might conceal. Saladin, who was a ſtipendiary of the Duke of Orleans, and whoſe reputation would not grace any other aſſembly, iſ tranſformed into a Moderate, and talks of virtue and crime; while Andre Dumont, to the great admiration of his private biographiſts, has been ſigning a peace with the Duke of Tuſcany.—Our republican ſtateſmen require to be viewed in perſpective: they appear to no advantage in the foreground. Dumont would have made "a good pantler, he would have chipp'd bread well;" or, like Scrub, he might have "drawn warrants, or drawn beer,"—but I ſhould doubt if, in a tranſaction of this nature, the Dukedom of Tuſcany was ever before ſo aſſorted; and if the Duke were obliged to make this peace, he may well ſay, "neceſſity doth make us herd with ſtrange companions."
Notwithſtanding the Convention ſtill deteſts Chriſtianity, utterſ anathemas againſt England, and exhibits daily ſcenes of indecent diſcuſſion and reviling, it is doubtleſs become more moderate on the whole; and though this moderation be not equal to the people's wiſhes, it is more than ſufficient to exaſperate the Jacobins, who call the Convention the Senate of Coblentz, and are perpetually endeavouring to excite commotions. The belief is, indeed, general, that the Aſſembly contains a ſtrong party of royaliſts; yet, though this may be true in a degree, I fear the impulſe which has been given by the public opinion, iſ miſtaken for a tendency in the Convention itſelf. But however, this may be, neither the imputations of the Jacobins, nor the hopes of the people, have been able to oppoſe the progreſs of a ſentiment which, operating on a character like that of the French, is more fatal to a popular body than even hatred or contempt. The long duration of this diſaſtrouſ legiſlature has excited an univerſal wearineſs; the guilt of particular members is now leſs diſcuſſed than the inſignificance of the whole aſſemblage; and the epithets corrupt, worn out, hackneyed, and everlaſting, [Tare, uſe, banal, and eternel.] have almoſt ſuperſeded thoſe of rogues and villains.
The law of the maximum has been repealed ſome time, and we now procure neceſſaries with much greater facility; but the aſſignats, no longer ſupported by violence, are rapidly diminiſhing in credit—ſo that every thing is dear in proportion. We, who are more than indemnified by the riſe of exchange in our favour, are not affected by theſe progreſſive augmentations in the price of proviſions. It would, however, be erroneous and unfeeling to judge of the ſituation of the French themſelves from ſuch a calculation.
People who have let their eſtates on leaſes, or have annuities on the Hotel de Ville, &c. receive aſſignats at par, and the wages of the labouring poor are ſtill comparatively low. What was five years ago a handſome fortune, now barely ſupplies a decent maintenance; and ſmaller incomes, which were competencies at that period, are now almoſt inſufficient for exiſtence. A workman, who formerly earned twenty-five ſols a day, has at preſent three livres; and you give a ſempſtreſs thirty ſols, inſtead of ten: yet meat, which was only five or ſix ſols when wages was twenty-five, is now from fifty ſols to three livres the pound, and every other article in the ſame or a higher proportion. Thus, a man's daily wages, inſtead of purchaſing four or five pounds of meat, aſ they would have done before the revolution, now only purchaſe one.
It grieves me to ſee people whom I have known at their eaſe, obliged to relinquiſh, in the decline of life, comforts to which they were accuſtomed at a time when youth rendered indulgence leſs neceſſary; yet every day points to the neceſſity of additional oeconomy, and ſome little convenience or enjoyment is retrenched—and to thoſe who are not above acknowledging how much we are the creatures of habit, a diſh of coffee, or a glaſs of liqueur, &c. will not ſeem ſuch trifling privations. It iſ true, theſe are, ſtrictly ſpeaking, luxuries; ſo too are moſt things by compariſon—