“The upright man, whose life has been spotless, and who never betrayed any symptoms of cowardice, will ever refuse to soil his hand by homicide, and will not be the less honoured. Ever prompt to serve his country, and to afford protection to the weak; to fulfill the most perilous duties, and to defend at the price of his blood everything that is just, honest, and dear to him; he will display in every act of his life that unshaken fortitude which is ever the attribute of true courage. Secure in the consciousness of his integrity, he will step out with head erect, and neither seek nor shun an enemy: he fears death much less than a foul deed, and dreads a crime more than danger. If vile prejudices assail him for a time, every day of his honourable life is a witness to defend him, when all his actions are judged by each other.
“Those captious persons who are so ready to provoke others are in general dishonest men, who, under the apprehension that they will meet with the contempt they deserve, endeavour to shield by an affair of honour the infamy of their entire life.
“Such a man will make a single effort, and face the world once, that he may remain concealed for the remainder of his days. True courage possesses more constancy and less anxiety. It is ever what it should be, and requires neither excitement nor restraint. The upright man never moves without it,—in battle with the enemy, in society, in advocating the cause of the absent and of truth; on his couch, in bearing with fortitude the attacks of pain and of death. The strength of mind that inspires this quality belongs to every age; and, ever placing virtue above worldly wants, it seeks not the combat, but it dreads no danger.”
In this moral revolution the strangest event was, to behold those whom it was most likely to affect becoming powerful auxiliaries to the contemplated reforms, reforms in which they were doomed to perish. Still they rushed like men stricken with blindness into a new order of things,—a new state of society; tired of the old one, and, from having been sceptical in their sensuality, became sceptical in ideas and in doctrines, until the ruinous ancient social fabric crumbled over their devoted heads.
The emancipation from slavery and oppression should be gradual. A sudden freedom maddens, as a sudden restoration of sight will dazzle and blind again. Liberty thus conferred has been justly compared to weapons that recoil upon those who wield them. In the mouth of some of these innovators, sophistry extenuated crimes; and Helvetius maintained “that every act was legitimate to ensure public safety.” To which Rousseau replied, “that public safety was not worth considering, when individual security could not be obtained.”
While such opinions were promulgated by philosophers, what were the ideas of honour that prevailed at Versailles and the Tuileries? In abject submission to an abject master, they were comformable to those entertained by the royal cook Vatel, who destroyed himself because the fish had not arrived in time for his sovereign’s dinner; a catastrophe which was admirably described by Berchoux in the following lines: Tout le soin des festins fût remis à Vatel,
Du vainqueur de Rocroy fameux maitre d’hôtel.
Il mit à ses travaux une ardeur infinie,
Mais, avec des talents, il manquait de génie.
Accablé d’embarras, Vatel est averti
Que deux tables en vain réclamaient leur rôti;
Il prend pour en trouver une peine inutile.
“Ah!” dit-il, s’adressant à son ami Gourville,
De larmes, de sanglots, de douleur suffoqué,
“Je suis perdu d’honneur, deux rôtis ont manqués!
Un seul jour détruira toute ma renommée.
Mes lauriers sont flétris; et la cour, alarmée,
Ne peut plus désormais se reposer sur moi:
J’ai trahi mon devoir, avili mon emploi!”
* * * * *
O vous, qui par état présidez aux repas,
Donnez lui des regrets, mais ne l’imitez pas.
Can we indeed be surprised at the indignation which must have fired every liberal bosom when beholding, not only the insolence of the aristocracy, but the vices of sovereigns and the crimes of ministers, becoming subjects of general admiration, and even eulogised in the pulpit?—when a prelate like Fléchier declared in his funeral oration on Cardinal Richelieu, that God had bestowed upon his soul those excellent gifts that fitted him to rule the world, and bring into action those secret springs which he ordained to elevate or overthrow, in his eternal decrees, the power of kings and kingdoms! The same eloquent declaimer, in quoting the virtues of Mazarin, tells his congregation that he had taught the art of governing, and the secrets of royalty, to the first monarch in the world! Can we wonder then, that, living under such a celestial sway, a cook should commit suicide when unable “to set a dainty dish” before his King?