Do you believe that the doctrine which now prevails in France, would have found many partisans among us in 1789? No; a revolution in ideas, and in prejudices, is not made with that rapidity; it moves gradually: it does not escalade.

Philosophy does not inspire by violence, nor by seduction, nor is it the sword that begets love of liberty.

Joseph the Second also borrowed the language of philosophy when he wished to suppress the monks in Belgium, and to seize upon their revenues. There was seen on him a mask only of philosophy, covering the hideous countenance of a greedy despot, and the people ran to arms. Nothing better than another kind of despotism has been seen in the revolutionary power.

We have seen in the commissioners of the National Convention, nothing but pro-consuls working the mine of Belgium for the profit of the French nation; seeking to conquer it for the sovereign of Paris; either to aggrandize his empire, or to share the burdens of the debts, and furnish a rich prize to the robbers who domineered in France.

Do you believe the Belgians have ever been the dupes of those well-rounded periods, which they vended in the pulpit, in order to familiarize them to the idea of an union with France? Do you believe they were ever imposed upon by those votes and resolutions, made by what is called acclamation, for their union, of which corruption paid one part,' and fear forced the remainder? Who, at this time of day, is unacquainted with the springs and wires of their miserable puppet shew? Who does not know the farces of primary assemblies, composed of a president, of a secretary, and of some assistants, whose day's work was paid for? No; it is not by means which belong only to thieves and despots that the foundations of liberty can be laid in an enslaved country. It is not by those means, that a

public, which he has himself painted with so masterly an hand. That people must needs be dull, blind, and brutalized by fifteen hundred years of superstition, (the time elapsed since the introduction of Christianity among them) who could prefer their former state to the present state of France. The reader will remark, that the only difference between Brissot and his adversaries, is in the mode of bringing other nations into the pale of the French RepublicThey would abolish the order and classes of society and all religion at a stroke: Brissot would have just the same thing done, but with more address and management. Translator.

See the correspondence of Dumourier, especially the letter of the 12th of March.

new born republic, a people who know not yet the elements of republican governments, can be united to us. Even slaves do not suffer themselves to be seduced by such artifices; and if they have not the strength to resist, they have at least the sense to know how to appreciate the value of such an attempt.

If we would attach the Belgians to us, we must at least enlighten their minds by good writings; we must send to them missionaries, and not despotic commissioners. We ought to give them time to see; to perceive by themselves the advantages of liberty; the unhappy effects of superstition; the fatal spirit of priesthood. And whilst we waited for this moral revolution, we should have accepted the offers which they incessantly repeated, to join to the French army, an army of 50,000 men; to entertain them at their own expense: and to advance to France, the specie of which she stood in need.

But have we ever seen those fifty thousand soldiers who were to join our army, as soon as the standard of liberty should be displayed in Belgium? Have we ever seen those treasures which they were to count into our hands? Can we either accuse the sterility of their country, or the penury of their treasure, or the coldness of their love for liberty? No! despotism and anarchy, these are the benefits which we have transplanted into their soil. We have acted, we have spoken like masters; and from that time we have found the Flemings nothing but jugglers, who made the grimace of liberty for money; or slaves, who in their hearts cursed their new tyrants. Our commissioners address them in this sort; "you have nobles and priests among you, drive them out without delay, or we will neither be your brethren nor your patrons." They answered, give us but time; only leave to us the care of reforming these institutions. Our answer to them was, "No! it must be at the moment; it must be on the spot, or we will treat you as enemies; we will abandon you to the resentment of the Austrians."

What could the disarmed Belgians object to all this, surrounded as they were by 70,000 men? They had only to hold their tongues, and to bow down their heads before their masters! They did hold their tongues, and their silence is received as a sincere and free assent.

They have not as yet proceeded farther with regard to the English dominions. Here we only see as yet the good writings of Paine, and of his learned associates, and the labours of the missionary clubs, and other zealous instructors Translator.

Have not the strangest artifices been adopted to prevent that people from retreating, and to constrain them to an union? It was foreseen, that as long as they were unable to effect an union, the states would preserve the supreme authority among themselves. Under pretence, therefore, of relieving the people, and of exercising the sovereignty in their right, at one stroke they abolished all the duties and taxes; they shut up all the treasuries. From that time no more receipts; no more public money; no more means of paying the salaries of any man in office appointed by the states. Thus was anarchy organized among the people, that they might be compelled to throw themselves into our arms. It became necessary for those who administered their affairs, under the penalty of being exposed to sedition, and in order to avoid their throats being cut, to have recourse to the treasury of France. What did they find in this treasury? ASSIGNATS. These assignats were advanced at par to Belgium. By these means, on the one hand, they naturalized this currency in that country; and on the other, they expected to make a good pecuniary transaction. Thus it is that covetousness cut its throat with its own hands. The Belgians have seen in this forced introduction of assignats, nothing but a double robbery; and they have only the more violently hated the union with France.

Recollect the solicitude of the Belgians on that subject. With what earnestness did they conjure you to take off a retroactive effect from these assignats, and to prevent them from being applied to the payment of debts that were contracted anterior to the union?

Did not this language energetically enough signify that they looked upon the assignats as a leprosy, and the union as a deadly contagion? And yet what regard was paid to so just a demand? It was buried in the committee of finance. That committee wanted to make anarchy the means of an union. They only busied themselves in making the Belgic provinces subservient to their finances.

Cambon said loftily before the Belgians themselves, the Belgian war costs us hundreds of millions. Their ordinary revenues, and even some extraordinary taxes, will not answer to our reimbursements; and yet we have occasion for them. The mortgage of our assignats draws near its end. What must be done? Sell the church property of Brabant. There is a mortgage of two thousand millions (eighty millions sterling.) How shall we get possession of them? By an immediate union. Instantly they decreed this union. Men's minds were

not disposed to it. What does it signify? Let us make them vote by means of money. Without delay, therefore, they secretly order the minister of foreign affairs to dispose of four or five hundred thousand livres (20,000l. sterling) to make the vagabonds of Brussels drunk, and to buy proselytes to the union in all the states. But even these means, it was said, will obtain but a weak minority in our favour. What does that signify? Revolutions, say they, are made only by minorities. It is the minority which has made the revolution of France; it is a minority which has made the people triumph.

The Belgic provinces were not sufficient to satisfy the voracious cravings of this financial system. Cambon wanted to unite every thing, that he might sell every thing. Thus he forced the union of Savoy; in the war with Holland, he saw nothing but gold to seize on, and assignats to sell at par.* Do not let us dissemble, said he one day to the committee of general defence, in presence even of the patriot deputies of Holland, you have no ecclesiastical goods to offer us for our indemnity.-IT IS A REVOLUTION IN THEIR COUNTERS AND IRON CHESTS,† that must be made among the DUTCH. The word was said, and the bankers Abema and Vanstaphorst understood it.

Do you think that that word has not been worth an army to the Stadtholder, that it has not cooled the ardour of the Dutch patriots, that it has not commanded the vigorous defence of Williamstadt?

Do you believe that the patriots of Amsterdam, when they read the preparatory decree which gave France an execution on their goods; do you believe, that those patriots would not have liked better to have remained under the government of the Stadtholder, who took from them no more than a fixed portion of their property, than to pass under that of a revolutionary power, which would make a complete revolution in their bureaus and strong boxes, and reduce them to wretched

The same thing will happen in Savoy. The persecution of the clergy has soured people's minds. The Commissaries represent them to us as good Frenchmen. I put them to the proof. Where are the legions? How, thirty thousand Savoyards-are they not armed to defend, in concert with us, their liberty? Brissot.

↑ Portefueille-is the word in the original. It signifies all moveable property which may be represented in bonds, notes, bills, stocks, or any sort of public or private securities. I do not know of a single word in English that answers it; I have therefore substituted that of Iron Chests as coming nearer to the idea. Translator.

ness and rags ?* Robbery, and anarchy, instead of encouraging, will always stifle revolutions.

But why, they object to me, have not you and your friends chosen to expose these measures in the rostrum of the National Convention? Why have you not opposed yourself to all these fatal projects of union?

times left them covered with opprobrium by your galleries.

You forget, then, that you have not thought yourselves sufficiently powerful to impose silence upon these galleries.

What ought a wise man to do in the midst of these circumstances? He is silent. He waits the moment when the passions give way:

You complain of the silence of honest men! You quite forget, then, honest men are the objects of your suspicion. Suspicion, if it does not stain the soul of a courageous man, at least arrests his thoughts in their passage to his lips. The suspicions of a good citizen, freeze those men, whom the calumny of the wicked could not stop in their progress.

You complain of their silence! You forget, then, that you have often established an insulting equality between them and men covered with crimes, and made up of ignominy.— You forget, then, that you have twenty

In the original letter, les reduire a la Sansculoterie.

multitude shall listen to her voice.

What has been the tactic displayed during all these unions? Cambon incapable of political calculation, boasting his ignorance in the diplomatic, flattering the ignorant multitude, lending his name and popularity to the anarchists, seconded by their vociferations, denounced incessantly as counter-revolutionists, those intelligent persons who were desirous, at least, of having things discussed. To oppose the acts of union, appeared to Cambon an overt act of treason. The wish so much as to reflect and to deliberate, was in his eyes a great crime. He calumniated our intentions. The voice of every deputy, especially my voice, would infallibly have been stifled. There were spies on the very monosyllables that escaped our lips.

TO WILLIAM ELLIOT, ESQ.

1795.

Beaconsfield, May 26, 1795.

MY DEAR SIR,

I HAVE been told of the voluntary, which, for the entertainment of the house of lords, has been lately played by his Grace the **** of *******, a great deal at my expense, and a little at his own. I confess I should have liked the composition rather better, if it had been quite new. But every man has his taste, and his Grace is an admirer of ancient music.

There may be sometimes too much even of a good thing. A toast is good, and a bumper is not bad but the best toasts may be so often repeated as to disgust the palate, and ceaseless rounds of bumpers may nauseate and overload the stomach. The ears of the most steady-voting politicians may at last be stunned with three times three. I am sure I have

been very grateful for the flattering remembrance made of me in the toasts of the revolution society, and of other clubs formed on the same laudable plan. After giving the brimming honours to citizen Thomas Paine, and to citizen Dr. Priestley, the gentlemen of these clubs seldom failed to bring me forth in my turn, and to drink," Mr. Burke, and thanks to him for the discussion he has provoked."

I found myself elevated with this honour; for even by the collision of resistance, to be the means of striking out sparkles of truth, if no merit, is at least felicity.

Here I might have rested. But when I found that the great advocate, Mr. Erskine, condescended to resort to these bumper toasts as the pure and exuberant fountains of politics and of rhetoric, (as I hear he did, in thres

or four speeches made in defence of certain worthy citizens) I was rather let down a little. Though still somewhat proud of myself, I was not quite so proud of my voucher. Though he is no idolater of fame, in some way or other, Mr. Erskine, will always do himself honour. Methinks, however, in following the precedents of these toasts, he seemed to do more credit to his diligence, as a special pleader, than to his invention as an orator. To those who did not know the abundance of his resources, both of genius and erudition, there was something in it that indicated the want of a good assortment, with regard to richness and variety, in the magazine of topics and common-places, which I suppose he keeps by him, in imitation of Cicero and other renowned declaimers of antiquity.

Mr. Erskine supplied something, I allow, from the stores of his imagination, in metamorphosing the jovial toasts of clubs, into solemn special arguments at the bar. So far the thing shewed talent: however, I must still prefer the bar of the tavern to the other bar. The toasts at the first hand were better than the arguments at the second. Even when the toasts began to grow old as sarcasms, they were washed down with still older pricked election port; then the acid of the wine made some amends for the want of any thing piquant in the wit. But when his Grace gave them a second transformation, and brought out the vapid stuff, which had wearied the clubs and disgusted the courts; the drug made up of the bottoms of rejected bottles, all smelling so wofully of the cork and of the cask, and of every thing except the honest old lamp, and when that sad draught had been further infected with the gaol pollution of the Old Bailey, and was dashed and brewed, and ineffectually stummed again into a senatorial exordium in the house of lords, I found all the high flavour and mantling of my honours, tasteless, flat, and stale. Unluckily, the new tax on wine is felt even in the greatest fortunes, and his Grace submits to take up with the heel-taps of Mr. Erskine.

I have had the ill or good fortune to provoke two great men of this age to the publication of their opinions; I mean citizen Thomas Paine, and his Grace the **** of *******. I am not so great a leveller as to put these two great men on a par, either in the state or the republic of letters: but," the field of glory is a field for all." It is a large one indeed, and we all may run, God knows where, in chase of glory, over the boundless expanse of that wild heath, whoso horizon always flies before us.

I as

sure his Grace (if he will yet give me leave to call him so) whatever may be said on the authority of the clubs, or of the bar, that citizen Paine (who, they will have it, hunts with me in couples, and who only moves as I drag him along), has a sufficient activity in his own native benevolence to dispose and enable him to take the lead for himself. He is ready to blaspheme his God, to insult his king, and to libel the constitution of his country, without any provocation from me, or any encouragement from his Grace. I assure him, that I shall not be guilty of the injustice of charging Mr. Paine's next work against religion and human society, upon his Grace's excellent speech in the house of lords. I farther assure this noble Duke, that I neither provoked that worthy citizen to seek for plenty, liberty, safety, justice or lenity, in the famine, in the prisons, in the decrees of convention, in the revolutionary tribunal, and in the guillotine of Paris, rather than quietly to take up with what he could find in the glutted markets, the unbarricadoed streets, the drowsy Old Bailey judges, or at worst, the airy, wholesome pillory of old England. The choice of country was his own taste. The writings were the effects of his own zeal. In spite of his friend Dr. Priestley, he was a free agent. I admit, indeed, that my praises of the British government, loaded with all its incumbrances; clogged with its peers and its beef; its parsons and its pudding; its commons and its beer; and its dull slavish liberty of going about just as one pleases, had something to provoke a jockey of Norfolk, who was inspired with the resolute ambition of becoming a citizen of France, to do something which might render him worthy of naturalization in that grand asylum of persecuted merit; something which should entitle him to a place in the senate of the adoptive country of all the gallant, generous and humane. This, I say, was possible. But the truth is (with great deference to his Grace I say it) citizen Paine acted without any provocation at all; he acted solely from the native impulses of his own excellent heart.

His Grace, like an able orator, as he is, begins with giving me a great deal of praise for talents which I do not possess. He does this to entitle himself, on the credit of this gratuitous kindness, to exaggerate my abuse of the parts which his bounty, and not that of nature, has bestowed upon me. In this, too, he has condescended to copy Mr. Erskine. These priests (I hope they will excuse me; I mean

Mr. Paine is a Norfolk man, from Thetford.

priests of the rights of man) begin by crowning me with their flowers and their fillets, and bedewing me with their odours, as a preface to their knocking me on the head with their consecrated axes. I have injured, say they, the constitution; and I have abandoned the whig party and the whig principles that I professed. I do not mean, my dear Sir, to defend myself against his Grace. I have not much interest in what the world shall think or say of me; as little has the world an interest in what I shall think or say of any one in it; and I wish that his Grace had suffered an unhappy man to enjoy, in his retreat, the melancholy privileges of obscurity and sorrow. At any rate, I have spoken and I have written on the subject. If I have written or spoken so poorly as to be quite forgot, a fresh apology will not make a more lasting impression. "I must let the tree lie as it falls." Perhaps I must take some shame to myself. I confess that I have acted on my own principles of government, and not on those of his Grace, which are, I dare say, profound and wise; but which I do not pretend to understand. As to the party to which he alludes, and which has long taken its leave of me, I believe the principles of the book which he condemns, are very conformable to the opinions of many of the most considerable and most grave in that description of politicians. A few, indeed, who, I admit, are equally respectable in all points, differ from me, and talk his Grace's language. I am too feeble to contend with them. They have the field to themselves. There are others very young and very ingenious persons, who form, probably, the largest part of what his Grace, I believe, is pleased to consider as that party. Some of them were not born into the world, and all of them were children, when I entered into that connection. I give due credit to the censorial brow, to the broad phylacteries, and to the imposing gravity of those magisterial rabbins and doctors in the cabala of political science. I admit that "wisdom is as the gray hair to man, and that learning is like honourable old age." But, at a time when liberty is a good deal talked of, perhaps I might be excused, if I caught something of the general indocility. It might not be surprising, if I lengthened my chain a link or two, and in an age of relaxed discipline, gave a trifling indulgence to my own notions. If that could be allow ed, perhaps I might sometimes (by accident, and without an unpardonable crime) trust as much to my own very careful and very laborious, though, perhaps, somewhat purblind disquisitions, as to their soaring, intuitive, eagle-eyed

authority; but the modern liberty is a precious thing. It must not be profaned by too vulgar an use. It belongs only to the chosen few, who were born to the hereditary representation of the whole democracy, and who leave nothing at all, no, not the offal, to us poor outcasts of the plebeian race.

Among those gentlemen who came to authority, as soon, or sooner than they came of age, I do not mean to include his Grace. With all those native titles to empire over our minds which distinguish the others, he has a large share of experience. He certainly ought to understand the British constitution better than I do. He has it studied in the fundamental part. For one election I have seen, he has been concerned in twenty. Nobody is less of a visionary theorist ; nobody has drawn his speculations more from practice. No peer has condescended to superintend with more vigilance the declining franchises of the poor commons. "With thrice great Hermes he has outwatched the bear." Often have his candles been burned to the snuff, and glimmered and stunk in the sockets, whilst he grew pale at his constitutional studies: long sleepless nights has he wasted; long, laborious, shiftless journies has he made, and great sums has he expended, in order to secure the purity, the independence, and the sobriety of elections, and to give a check, if possible, to the ruinous charges that go nearly to the destruction of the right of election itself.

Amidst these his labours, his Grace will be pleased to forgive me, if my zeal, less enlightened to be sure than by his midnight lamps and studies, has presumed to talk too favourably of this constitution, and even to say something sounding like approbation of that body which has the honour to reckon his Grace at the head of it. Those who dislike this partiality, or, if his Grace pleases, this flattery of mine, have a comfort at hand. I may be refuted and brought to shame by the most convincing of all refutations, a practical refutation. Every individual peer for himself may shew that I was ridiculously wrong; the whole body of those noble persons may refute me for the whole corps. If they please, they are more powerful advocates against themselves, than a thousand scribblers like me can be in their favour. If I were even possessed of those powers which his Grace, in order to heighten my offence, is pleased to attribute to me, there would be little difference. The eloquence of Mr. Erskine might save Mr. **** from the gallows, but no eloquence could save Mr. Jackson from the effects of his own potion.