to their known ſentiments: the reply iſ always, that they fear the vengeance of the Jacobins, and that they are awed by military force. This reaſoning is, of courſe, unanſwerable; and we learn, from the debates of the Convention, that the people have received the new conſtitution "avec la plus vive reconnoiſſance," ["With the moſt lively gratitude."] and that they have all ſworn to die in its defence.—Yours, &c.
July 14, 1793.
The return of this day cannot but ſuggeſt very melancholy reflections to all who are witneſſes of the changes which a ſingle year has produced. In twelve months only the government of France has been overturned, her commerce deſtroyed, the country depopulated to raiſe armies, and the people deprived of bread to ſupport them. A deſpotiſm more abſolute than that of Turkey is eſtabliſhed, the manners of the nation are corrupted, and its moral character is diſgraced in the eyes of all Europe. A barbarous rage has laid waſte the faireſt monuments of art—whatever could embelliſh ſociety, or contribute to ſoften exiſtence, haſ diſappeared under the reign of theſe modern Gothſ—even the neceſſarieſ of life are becoming rare and inadequate to the conſumption—the rich are plundered and perſecuted, yet the poor are in want—the national credit is in the laſt ſtage of debaſement, yet an immenſe debt is created, and daily accumulating; and apprehenſion, diſtruſt, and miſery, are almoſt univerſal.—All this is the work of a ſet of adventurers who are now divided among themſelveſ—who are accuſing each other of thoſe crimeſ which the world imputes to them all—and who, conſcious they can no longer deceive the nation, now govern with the fear and ſuſpicion of tyrants. Every thing is ſacrificed to the army and Paris, and the people are robbed of their ſubſiſtence to ſupply an iniquitous metropolis, and a military force that awes and oppreſſes them.
The new conſtitution has been received here officially, but no one ſeemſ to take the leaſt intereſt in it: it is regarded in juſt the ſame light as a new tax, or any other miniſterial mandate, not ſent to be diſcuſſed but obeyed. The mode of proclaiming it conveyed a very juſt idea of itſ origin and tendency. It was placed on a cuſhion, ſupported by Jacobinſ in their red caps, and ſurrounded by dragoons. It ſeemed the image of Anarchy, guarded by Deſpotiſm.—In this manner they paraded the town, and the "ſacred volume" was then depoſed on an altar erected on the Grande Place.—The Garde Nationale, who were ordered to be under arms, attended, and the conſtitution was read. A few of the ſoldiers cried "Vive la republique!" and every one returned home with countenances in which delight was by no means the prevailing expreſſion.
A trifling incident which I noticed on this occaſion, will ſerve, among others of the ſame kind that I could enumerate, to prove that even the very lower claſs of the people begin to ridicule and deſpiſe their legiſlators. While a municipal officer was very gravely reading the conſtitution, an aſs forced his way acroſs the ſquare, and placed himſelf near the ſpot where the ceremony was performing: a boy, who was under our window, on obſerving it, cried out, "Why don't they give him the accolade fraternelle!"*
* Fraternal embrace.—This is the reception given by the Preſident to any one whom the Convention wiſh particularly to diſtinguiſh. On an occaſion of the ſort, the fraternal embrace was given to an old Negreſs.—The honours of the fitting are alſo daily accorded to deputations of fiſh-women, chimney-ſweepers, children, and all whoſe miſſions are flattering. There is no homage ſo mean as not to gratify the pride of thoſe to whom dominion is new; and theſe expreſſions are ſo often and ſo ſtrangely applied, that it is not ſurprizing they are become the cant phraſes of the mob.
—"Yes, (rejoined another,) and admit him aux honneurs de la feance." [To the honours of the fitting.] This diſpoſition to jeſt with their miſfortunes is, however, not ſo common as it was formerly. A bon mot may alleviate the loſs of a battle, and a lampoon on the court ſolace under the burthen of a new impoſt; but the moſt thoughtleſs or improvident can find nothing very facetious in the proſpect of abſolute want—and thoſe who have been uſed to laugh under a circumſcription of their political liberty, feel very ſeriouſly the evil of a government which endows itſ members with unlimited power, and enables a Deputy, often the meaneſt and moſt profligate character of his department, to impriſon all who, from caprice, intereſt, or vengeance, may have become the objects of hiſ perſecution.
I know this will appear ſo monſtrous to an Engliſhman, that, had I an opportunity of communicating ſuch a circumſtance before it were publicly authenticated, you would ſuppoſe it impoſſible, and imagine I had been miſtaken, or had written only from report; it is nevertheleſs true, that every part of France is infeſted by theſe Commiſſioners, who diſpoſe, without appeal, of the freedom and property of the whole department to which they are ſent. It frequently happens, that men are delegated to places where they have reſided, and thus have an opportunity of gratifying their perſonal malice on all who are ſo unfortunate as to be obnoxious to them. Imagine, for a moment, a village-attorney acting with uncontrouled authority over the country where he formerly exerciſed hiſ profeſſion, and you will have ſome idea of what paſſes here, except that I hope no claſs of men in England are ſo bad as thoſe which compoſe the major part of the National Convention.—Yours, &c.
July 23, 1793.
The events of Paris which are any way remarkable are ſo generally circulated, that I do not often mention them, unleſs to mark their effect on the provinces; but you will be ſo much miſled by the public paperſ with regard to the death of Marat, that I think it neceſſary to notice the ſubject while it is yet recent in my memory. Were the clubs, the Convention, or the ſections of Paris to be regarded as expreſſing the ſenſe of the people, the aſſaſſination of this turbulent journaliſt muſt be conſidered being the caſe, that the departments are for the moſt part, if not rejoiced, indifferent—and many of thoſe who impute to him the honour of martyrdom, or aſſiſt at his apotheoſis, are much better ſatiſfied both with his chriſtian and heathen glories, than they were while he was living to propagate anarchy and pillage. The reverence of the Convention itſelf is a mere political pantomime. Within the laſt twelve months nearly all the individuals who compoſe it have treated Marat with contempt; and I perfectly remember even Danton, one of the members of the Committee of Salut Publique, accuſing him of being a contre revolutionnaire.
But the people, to uſe a popular expreſſion here, require to be electrified.—St. Fargeau is almoſt forgotten, and Marat is to ſerve the ſame purpoſes when dead, to which he contributed while living.—An extreme groſſneſs and want of feeling form the characteriſtic feature of the Pariſians; they are ignorant, credulous, and material, and the Convention do not fail on all occaſions to avail themſelves of theſe qualities. The corpſe of Marat decently encloſed in a coffin would have made little impreſſion, and it was not pity, but revenge, which was to be excited. The diſguſting object of a dead leper was therefore expoſed to the eyes of a metropolis calling itſelf the moſt refined and enlightened of all Europe—
| "And what t'oblivion better were conſign'd, Is hung on high to poiſon half mankind." |
I know not whether theſe lines are moſt applicable to the diſplay of Marat's body, or the conſecration of his fame, but both will be a laſting ſtigma on the manners and morals of Paris.
If the departments, however, take no intereſt in the loſs of Marat, the young woman who aſſaſſinated him has created a very lively one. The ſlighteſt anecdotes concerning her are collected with avidity, and repeated with admiration; and this is a ſtill farther proof of what you have heard me advance, that neither patriotiſm nor humanity has an abundant growth in this country. The French applaud an act in itſelf horrid and unjuſtifiable, while