I ſend you with this a little collection of airs which I think you will find very agreeable. The French muſic has not, perhaps, all the reputation it is entitled to. Rouſſeau has declared it to be nothing but doleful pſalmodies; Gray calls a French concert "Une tintamarre de diable:" and the prejudices inſpired by theſe great names are not eaſily obliterated. We ſubmit our judgement to theirs, even when our taſte iſ refractory.—The French compoſers ſeem to excel in marches, in lively airs that abound in ſtriking paſſages calculated for the popular taſte, and yet more particularly in thoſe ſimple melodies they call romances: they are often in a very charming and ſingular ſtyle, without being either ſo delicate or affecting as the Italian. They have an expreſſion of plaintive tenderneſs, which makes one tranquil rather than melancholy; and which, though it be more ſoothing than intereſting, is very delightful.—Yours, &c.
Amiens, 1793.
I have been to-day to take a laſt view of the convents: they are now advertiſed for ſale, and will probably ſoon be demoliſhed. You know my opinion is not, on the whole, favourable to theſe inſtitutions, and that I thought the decree which extinguiſhes them, but which ſecured to the religious already profeſt the undiſturbed poſſeſſion of their habitationſ during life, was both politic and humane. Yet I could not ſee the preſent ſtate of theſe buildings without pain—they are now inhabited by volunteers, who are paſſing a novitiate of intemperance and idleneſs, previous to their reception in the army; and thoſe who recollect the peace and order that once reigned within the walls of a monaſtery, cannot but be ſtricken with the contraſt. I felt both for the expelled and preſent poſſeſſors, and, perhaps, gave a mental preference to the ſuperſtition which founded ſuch eſtabliſhments, over the perſecution that deſtroys them.
The reſigned and pious votaries, who once ſuppoſed themſelves ſecure from all the viciſſitudes of fortune, and whoſe union ſeemed diſſoluble only by the common lot of mortality, are now many of them diſperſed, wandering, friendleſs, and miſerable. The religion which they cheriſhed as a comfort, and practiſed as a duty, is now purſued as a crime; and it is not yet certain that they will not have to chooſe between an abjuration of their principles, and the relinquiſhment of the means of exiſtence.—The military occupiers offered nothing very alleviating to ſuch unpleaſant reflections; and I beheld with as much regret the collection of theſe ſcattered individuals, as the ſeparation of thoſe whoſe habitations they fill. They are moſt of them extremely young, taken from villages and the ſervice of agriculture, and are going to riſk their lives in a cauſe deteſted perhaps by more than three parts of the nation, and only to ſecure impunity to its oppreſſors.
It has uſually been a maxim in all civilized ſtates, that when the general welfare neceſſitates ſome act of partial injuſtice, it ſhall be done with the utmoſt conſideration for the ſufferer, and that the required ſacrifice of moral to political expediency ſhall be palliated, as much as the circumſtances will admit, by the manner of carrying it into execution. But the French legiſlators, in this reſpect, as in moſt others, truly original, diſdain all imitation, and are rarely guided by ſuch confined motives. With them, private rights are frequently violated, only to facilitate the means of public oppreſſionſ—and cruel and iniquitous decrees are rendered ſtill more ſo by the mode of enforcing them.
I have met with no perſon who could conceive the neceſſity of expelling the female religious from their convents. It was, however, done, and that with a mixture of meanneſs and barbarity which at once exciteſ contempt and deteſtation. The oſtenſible, reaſons were, that theſe communities afforded an aſylum to the ſuperſtitious, and that by their entire ſuppreſſion, a ſale of the houſes would enable the nation to afford the religious a more liberal ſupport than had been aſſigned them by the Conſtituent Aſſembly. But they are ſhallow politicians who expect to deſtroy ſuperſtition by perſecuting thoſe who practiſe it: and ſo far from adding, as the decree inſinuates, to the penſions of the nuns, they have now ſubjected them to an oath which, to thoſe at leaſt whoſe conſciences are timid, will act as a prohibition to their receiving what they were before entitled to.
The real intention of the legiſlature in thus entirely diſperſing the female religious, beſides the general hatred of every thing connected with religion, is, to poſſeſs itſelf of an additional reſource in the buildings and effects, and, as is imagined by ſome, to procure numerouſ and convenient ſtate priſons. But, I believe, the latter is only an ariſtocratic apprehenſion, ſuggeſted by the appropriation of the conventſ to this uſe in a few places, where the ancient priſons are full.— Whatever purpoſe it is intended to anſwer, it has been effected in a way diſgraceful to any national body, except ſuch a body as the Convention; and, though it be eaſy to perceive the cruelty of ſuch a meaſure, yet as, perhaps, its injuſtice may not ſtrike you ſo forcibly as if you had had the ſame opportunities of inveſtigating it as I have, I will endeavour to explain, as well as I can, the circumſtances that render it ſo peculiarly aggravated.
I need not remind you, that no order is of very modern foundation, nor that the preſent century has, in a great degree, exploded the faſhion of compounding for ſins by endowing religious inſtitutions. Thus, neceſſarily, by the great change which has taken place in the expence of living, many eſtabliſhments that were poorly endowed muſt have become unable to ſupport themſelves, but for the efforts of thoſe who were attached to them. It is true, that the rent of land has increaſed as itſ produce became more valuable; but every one knows that the landſ dependent on religious houſes have always been let on ſuch moderate terms, as by no means to bear a proportion to the neceſſities they were intended to ſupply; and as the monaſtic vows have long ceaſed to be the frequent choice of the rich, little increaſe has been made to the original ſtock by the acceſſion of new votaries:—yet, under all theſe diſadvantages, many ſocieties have been able to rebuild their houſes, embelliſh their churches, purchaſe plate, &c. &c. The love of their order, that ſpirit of oeconomy for which they are remarkable, and a perſevering induſtry, had their uſual effects, and not only baniſhed poverty, but became a ſource of wealth. An indefatigable labour at ſuch works as could be profitably diſpoſed of, the education of children, and the admiſſion of boarders, were the means of enriching a number of convents, whoſe proper revenues would not have afforded them even a ſubſiſtence.
But the fruits of active toil or voluntary privation, have been confounded with thoſe of expiatory bequeſt and miſtaken devotion, and have alike become the prey of a rapacious and unfeeling government. Many communities are driven from habitations built abſolutely with the produce of their own labour. In ſome places they were refuſed even their bedſ and linen; and the ſtock of wood, corn, &c. provided out of the ſavingſ of their penſions, (underſtood to be at their own diſpoſal,) have been ſeized, and ſold, without making them the ſmalleſt compenſation.