the truth, we are not very sociable, and still less
gay. Common interest establishes a sort of intimacy
between those of the same apartment; but the rest
of the house pass each other, without farther intercourse
than silent though significant civility. Sometimes
you see a pair of unfortunate aristocrates talking
politics at the end of a passage, or on a landing-place;
and here and there a bevy of females, en deshabille,
recounting altogether the subject of their arrest.
One’s ear occasionally catches a few half-suppressed
notes of a proscribed aire, but the unhallowed sounds
of the Carmagnole and Marseillois are never heard,
and would be thought more dissonant here than the war-whoop.
In fact, the only appearance of gaiety is among the
ideots and lunatics. —"Je m’ennuye
furieusement," is the general exclamation.—An
Englishman confined at the Bicetre would express himself
more forcibly, but, it is certain, the want of knowing
how to employ themselves does not form a small part
of the distresses of our fellow-prisoners; and when
they tell us they are "ennuyes," they say,
perhaps, nearly as much as they feel— for,
as far as I can observe, the loss of liberty has not
the same effect on a Frenchman as an Englishman.
Whether this arises from political causes, or the
natural indifference of the French character, I am
not qualified to determine; probably from both:
yet when I observe this facility of mind general,
and by no means peculiar to the higher classes, I
cannot myself but be of opinion, that it is more an
effect of their original disposition than of their
form of government; for though in England we were
accustomed from our childhood to consider every man
in France as liable to wake and find himself in the
Bastille, or at Mont St. Michel, this formidable despotism
existed more in theory than in practice; and if courtiers
and men of letters were intimidated by it, the mass
of the people troubled themselves very little about
Lettres de Cachet. The revenge or suspicion
of Ministers might sometimes pursue those who aimed
at their power, or assailed their reputation; but the
lesser gentry, the merchants, or the shopkeepers, were
very seldom victims of arbitrary imprisonment—and
I believe, amongst the evils which it was the object
of the revolution to redress, this (except on the
principle) was far from being of the first magnitude.
I am not likely, under my present circumstances,
to be an advocate for the despotism of any form of
government; and I only give it as a matter of opinion,
that the civil liberty of the French was not so often
and generally violated,* as to influence their character
in such a degree as to render them insensible of its
loss. At any rate, we must rank it among the
bizarreries [Unaccountable whimsical events.]
of this world, that the French should have been prepared,
by the theory of oppression under their old system,
for enduring the practice of it under the new one;
and that what during the monarchy was only possible
to a few, is, under the republic, almost certain to
all.