II. which were developed, dazzled by the lustre of the elo- CHAP. quence which was employed, seduced by the examples of antiquity which were held up to imitation, the youth warmly embraced not only free, but republican principles. The injustice of feudal oppression, the hardship of feudal exclusion, produced a corresponding reaction in the public mind. In the middle ranks, in particular, upon whom the chains of servitude hung heaviest, and who longed most for emancipation, because they would be the first to profit by it, the passion for ancient freedom was wrought up to the highest pitch. Madame Roland, the daughter of an engraver, and living in a humble station, wept, at nine Madame years of age, because she had not been born a Roman 88, 89. Incitizen, and carried Plutarch's Lives, instead of her bre- p. 18. viary, in her hand, when she attended mass in the cathedral.1 1 Roland, i. troduction, allusions erally The tenor of the prevailing ideas which have moved 26. the public mind, may always be known from the style of Classical eloquence adopted, and the allusions made use of, by those which genwho direct it. During the Great Rebellion in England, el prethe language universally employed by the popular leaders was that of gloomy austerity; their images and allusions were all drawn from the Old Testament. Fanaticism was the engine by which alone at that period the great body of the people could be moved. In France, religion was never once alluded to by the popular party; or, if mentioned, it was only to be made the subject of derision and obloquy. Classical images, reference to the freedom and spirit of antiquity, formed the great means of public excitation. The names of Brutus and Cato, of Phocion and Themistocles, were constantly upon their lips the National Assembly never resounded with such tumultuous applause as when some fortunate allusion to the heroes of Greece or Rome was made; the people were never wrought up to such a state of fervour as when they were called on to follow the example of the patriots in the ancient republics. Even in periods of extreme peril, with the prospect of immediate death before their II. 27. the French stage on mind. CHAP. eyes, the same splendid imagery was employed; and it is impossible to read without emotion the generous sentiments which the victims of popular violence frequently uttered, at their last moments, in the words of ancient eloquence. The circumstance of all others which chiefly contributed Influence of to this turn of the public mind, was the great influence which the masterpieces of the French stage had acquired in the capital. The Théâtre Français had, for above a century, been to the Parisians what the Forum was to the Athenians-a great arena in which political and moral sentiments of the most elevated kind were inculcated, and arguments the most admirable urged on the opposite sides of every great public question. The crowds in the pit, generally the most enlightened part of the audience, listened to the inimitable declamations of Corneille or Racine, with the same admiration which the Greek citizens felt when witnessing the oratorical contests of Eschines and Demosthenes. The grandeur of thought, the elevation of sentiment, the heroism of character, which were so nobly portrayed in these dramas, unavoidably acquired a vast influence over the public mind. It was the greater, because it was on the stage alone that liberty of discussion could then be heard in so despotic a state, and in the representations of the social struggles of antiquity only that the yearnings of the human mind after present freedom could be satisfied—the more dangerous, because it established, in general thought, a standard of excellence wholly unsuitable to the actual character of humanity, and spread the belief that men in real life were to be influenced by the dignified considerations which swayed the heroes of dramatic fiction. Never was a more delusive belief diffused. The great Condé might shed tears* at the representation of the master * It is recorded by Voltaire, in his admirable Commentaries on Corneille, that the great Condé shed tears at the magnanimous speech of Augustus, in the last scene of Cinna, where he pronounces his forgiveness. But Paris, during the Revolution, was not peopled with great Condés.-See Euvres de CORNEILLE, iii. 387; edit. 1817, with VOLTAIRE's Notes. pieces of Corneille; but it was in such heroic breasts-a mere fraction of the human race-that they alone could find a responsive echo. Yet no one who has studied closely the history of the Revolution, and observed the constant allusions by the popular leaders to the heroic occurrences of antiquity, can entertain a doubt that this cause had a material influence on its fortunes, and contributed not a little to produce those magnificent ideas of the virtues of a republic, and that exalted conception of the sway of generous sentiments over emancipated man, which were destined to be so grievously disappointed by the selfishness, vice, and cruelty of the Revolution.* CHAP. 28. IV. The CHURCH in France experienced the fate of all attempts, in an advancing age, to fetter the human mind; State of the the resistance to its authority became general, and in the Church. fervour of opposition, the good and the bad parts of its doctrines were indiscriminately rejected. This is the usual consequence of attempts to force incredible and absurd doctrines upon public belief. As long as the minds of the people are in a state of torpor or inactivity, they embrace without scruple whatever is taught by their spiritual guides; but when the spirit of investigation is roused, and the light of reason breaks in, the reaction becomes just as strong in the opposite direction, and infidel supplies the place of superstitious fanaticism. Religious as well as political reformers seldom content themselves with amending what is really defective in the subject of their improvement; in the fervour of innovation they destroy the whole, because part has been found * It is observed by Voltaire, as a remarkable circumstance, that in the Greek tragedies, addressed to the people of all others most ardently attached to democratic institutions, there is no allusion to be found to their value; while those of Corneille, intended for the court of the Bourbons in the palmy days of its power, are full of them. But the reason is obvious, and has been abundantly illustrated since Voltaire's death. Corneille put declamations on the virtues of a republic into the mouths of his heroes, because he had never known democracy; it was a Utopia to all around him. Euripides was silent on the subject, for he knew it too well; it was the real life with which his audience were familiar. II. CHAP. corrupted. It was thus with the Catholic Church of France. Supported as it had been by the greatest names, and adorned by the most splendid ability-teaching, for the most part, the most simple and beneficent system of belief, it fell into general obloquy, in consequence of the irrational and dangerous nature of some of its tenets, and the disgraceful use which it had made of its power. How strong soever the force of superstition may be, the power of reason is still stronger; if the former is to be supported, the latter must be enchained. 29. of the revo cation of the Edict If we would discover the cause of this remarkable bent Fatal effects of literary and philosophical thought in France during the last half of the eighteenth century, we must look for its of Nantes. principal cause in the injustice of preceding reigns. It was the REVOCATION OF THE EDICT OF NANTES which occasioned that fatal direction; it was the stoppage of the comparatively gentle purification of the Reformation which induced the fiery torrent of the Revolution. The enormous cruelty, the frightful injustice, the flagrant impolicy of that deed of despotism, have been already noticed in reference to the political history of France anterior to the Revolution; but its effects upon its ecclesiastical interests were hardly less important, and still more fatal. It at once destroyed religious freedom in that great country; by a single blow it extinguished intellectual energy in the Church. Toleration, even, was at an end; exile, confiscation, imprisonment, were to follow the slightest inclination towards the Huguenot opinions. In this complete victory, the champions of the Roman Catholic faith in France beheld an unqualified ground of triumph; but he must be blind indeed, who does not now perceive that it was the principal cause of the unbounded calamities in which the Gallican Church and the French monarchy were involved at the close of the eighteenth century. As long as the Protestant faith existed in the country, * Ante, chap. i. §§ 65, 66. II. 30. Weakness on the Gallican church. and free discussion was allowed under the tolerant edict of Henry IV., abuses of a flagrant kind were prevented on the part of the national establishment, from the dread of exposure by the champions of the opposite faith. it induced Talent, at the same time, was roused. Eloquence was called forth on both sides, not only from the polemical contests which were carried on between the professors of the new and the old opinions, but from the more useful and generous rivalry which prevailed as to which should gain the greatest number of converts to its faith, and disseminate most widely the blessings of Christian instruction. But when the five hundred thousand weeping Protestants were sent into exile-when the Huguenot worship was every where proscribed, and its trembling votaries, if detected celebrating its rites, were liable to stripes, confiscation, and exile - no check on the Roman Catholic worship remained. Effort on the part of its priesthood relaxed, from the necessity for it having passed away. The vast genius of Bossuet was no longer seen singly sustaining by its might the belief of the faithful: the mild spirit of Fénélon ceased to win the heart by the fervour of the gospel. Indolence and pride crept over the higher dignitaries of the church; bigotry and ignorance enveloped the lower; its errors, its superstitions, its cruelties, remained unchanged; while the talents and energy which had adorned it passed away. At a time when the inquisitive spirit of the age was daily extending, irresistible power rendered the dignified prelates blind to their dangers; and the fetters of a former period were the more straitly drawn, when the hands which were to rivet them were rapidly becoming weaker. 31. It issues in the con tests of the But no effort of despotism, how energetic soever, can, in an advancing and intellectual age, permanently extinguish the light of reason. The ardent spirit of religious inquiry, banished from the pulpits of the Huguenots, Jansenists. broke forth within the bosom of the church: the contest of the followers of Jansen and Molina took the place of VOL. I. K Jesuits and |