Reflections on the Revolution in France

précédé des têtes de ses malheureux gardes⁠—ces perfides janissaires, ces assassins, ces femmes cannibales⁠—ce cri de tous les évêques à la lanterne, dans le moment où le roi entre sa capitale avec deux évêques de son conseil dans sa voiture⁠—un coup de fusil, que j’ai vu tirer dans un des carrosses de la reine⁠—M. Bailly appellant cela un beau jour⁠—l’assemblée ayant déclaré froidement le matin, qu’il n’étoit pas de sa dignité d’aller toute entière environner le roi⁠—M. Mirabeau disant impunément dans cette assemblée, que le vaisseau de l’état, loin d’être arrêté dans sa course, s’élanceroit avec plus de rapidité que jamais vers sa régénération⁠—M. Barnave, riant avec lui, quand des flots de sang couloient autour de nous⁠—le vertueux Mounier61 échappant par miracle à vingt assassins, qui avoient voulu faire de sa tête un trophée de plus: Voilà ce qui me fit jurer de ne plus mettre le pied dans cette caverne d’Antropophages [The National Assembly], où je n’avois plus de force d’élever la voix, où depuis six semaines je l’avois élevée en vain.

“Moi, Mounier, et tous les honnêtes gens, ont pensé que le dernier effort à faire pour le bien étoit d’en sortir. Aucune idée de crainte ne s’est approchée de moi. Je rougirois de m’en défendre. J’avois encore reçû sur la route de la part de ce peuple, moins coupable que ceux qui l’ont enivré de fureur, des acclamations, et des applaudissements, dont d’autres auroient été flattés, et qui m’ont fait frémir. C’est à l’indignation, c’est à l’horreur, c’est aux convulsions physiques, que le seul aspect du sang me fait éprouver que j’ai cédé. On brave une seule mort; on la brave plusieurs fois, quand elle peut être utile. Mais aucune puissance sous le ciel, mais aucune opinion publique ou privée n’ont le droit de me condamner à souffrir inutilement mille supplices par minute, et à périr de désespoir, de rage, au milieu des triomphes, du crime que je n’ai pu arrêter. Ils me proscriront, ils confisqueront mes biens. Je labourerai la terre, et je ne les verrai plus. Voilà ma justification. Vous pourrez la lire, la montrer, la laisser copier; tant pis pour ceux qui ne la comprendront pas; ce ne sera alors moi qui auroit eu tort de la leur donner.”

This military man had not so good nerves as the peaceable gentlemen of the Old Jewry.⁠—See M. Mounier’s narrative of these transactions: a man also of honor and virtue and talents, and therefore a fugitive. ↩

See the fate of Bailly and Condorcet, supposed to be here particularly alluded to. Compare the circumstances of the trial and execution of the former with this prediction. ↩

The English are, I conceive, misrepresented in a letter published in one of the papers, by a gentleman thought to be a Dissenting minister. When writing to Dr. Price of the spirit which prevails at Paris, he says⁠—“The spirit of the people in this place has abolished all the proud distinctions which the king and nobles had usurped in their minds: whether they talk of the king, the noble, or the priest, their whole language is that of the most enlightened and liberal amongst the English.” If this gentleman means to confine the terms enlightened and liberal to one set of men in England, it may be true. It is not generally so. ↩

“Sit igitur hoc ab initio persuasum civibus, dominos esse omnium rerum ac moderatores deos; eaque, quae gerantur, eorum geri vi, ditione, ac numine; eosdemque optime de genere hominum mereri; et qualis quisque sit, quid agat, quid in se admittat, qua mente, qua pietate colat religiones intueri: piorum et impiorum habere rationem. His enim rebus imbutae mentes haud sane abhorrebunt ab utili et a vera sententia.”⁠—Cicero, De Legibus, l. 2. ↩

Quicquid multis peccatur inultum. ↩

This (down to the end of the first sentence in the next paragraph) and some other parts, here and there, were inserted, on his reading the manuscript, by my lost son. ↩

I do not choose to shock the feeling of the moral reader with any quotation of their vulgar, base, and profane language. ↩

Their connection with Turgot and almost all the people of the finance. ↩

All have been confiscated in their turn. ↩

Not his brother, nor any near relation; but this mistake does not affect the argument. ↩

The rest of the passage is this:⁠—

“Who, having spent the treasures of his crown,
Condemns their luxury to feed his own.
And yet this act, to varnish o’er the shame
Of sacrilege, must bear Devotion’s name.
No crime so bold, but would be understood
A real, or at least a seeming good.
Who fears not to do ill, yet fears the name,
And free from conscience, is a slave to fame.
Thus he the Church at once protects and spoils:
But princes’ swords are sharper than their styles.
And thus to th’ ages past he makes amends,
Their charity destroys, their faith defends.
Then did Religion in a lazy cell,
In empty, airy contemplations, dwell;
And like the block, unmovèd lay: but ours,
As much too active, like the stork devours.
Is there no temperate region can be known
Betwixt their frigid and our torrid zone?
Could we not wake from that lethargic dream,
But to be restless in a worse extreme?
And for that lethargy was there no care,
But to be cast into a calenture?
Can knowledge have no bound, but must advance
So far, to make us wish for ignorance,
And rather in the dark to grope our way,
Than, led by a false guide, to err by day?
Who sees these dismal heaps, but would demand
What barbarous invader sack’d the land?
But when he hears no Goth, no Turk did bring
This desolation, but a Christian king,
When nothing but the name of zeal appears
’Twixt our best actions and the worst of theirs,
What does he think our sacrilege would spare,
When such th’ effects of our devotions are?”

“Cooper’s Hill,”