Though neither Robespierre himself, nor the most out rageous mountaineer of his faction, ever publicly disputed this kind of explanation; yet what the lower orders of society meant, when they roared for equality, certainly was that they should be put on a footing with the rich, not that the poorest should be put on a level with them.

At the commencement of the revolution, when men of candour in every country of Europe wished well to it, because they thought it would confine the power of the mo narch within just limits, and might favour the cause of rational freedom all over the world, certain individuals, of the highest orders in France, gave proofs of their disinterestedness by the sacrifices they made with a view to the general good, which those of the middle or inferior orders, with all their patriotic declamations, could not do.-By the middle order I do not mean the Robespierres, the Marats, the Dantons, the La Croix, the Couthons, or any of that horrid gang, who seem to have been solely prompted by the spirits of ambition, rapacity, and vengeance; but I do mean the party of the Gironde, which is generally allowed to have been the most enlightened, the most moderate, and the best intentioned: few of them had any sacrifice in the article of fortune to make; they had little or nothing to lose by the revolution, except their lives indeed, which most of their leaders lost accordingly.

Almost the only thing that pleased me during my residence at Paris at that period was the eloquence of Vergniaud, which made so deep an impression on my memory, that I remember many passages of his speeches: in one' particularly, in answer to a destructive motion of Robespierre, he made the following observation, which the subsequent events of the revolution have often recalled to my remembrance. Vous vaincrez vos ennemis-je le crois ; mais la nation fatiguée des dissensions, mais la France, épuisée par les efforts faits pour vaincre ses ennemis exte-' rieurs, dechirée par les factions, sera encore épuisee par les hommes, par l'argent qu'il aura fallu tirer de son sein et craignez qu'elle ne ressemble à ces antiques monumens

qu'on retrouve en Egypte. L'étranger; qui les aperçoit, s'étonne de leur grandeur; s'il y pénètre, qu'y trouvet-il ?-des cendres inanimées, et le silence des tombeaux.' *

Robespierre hastened to fulfil this prophecy: at his instigation, a deputation from two of the sections of Paris brought to the bar of the convention a petition for a decree of accusation against twenty-two members, of which number Vergniaud was one. In his speech on that occasion he makes the following lively and prophetic observation. Il est permis de craindre que la révolution, comme Saturne, dévorant successivement tous ses enfans, n'engendre enfin le despotisme avec les calamités qui l'accompagnent.'' +

This last remark of Vergniaud brings to my recollection a curious sally of Tom Travers, who, knowing my intention of returning by Paris, came and met me, though he never liked the French, and particularly abhored their proceedings at that time.

We happened to dine in company with two of our countrymen, and several of the deputies to the convention : one of the latter, who was a physician, told a story, with a little variation, which I had often heard before, of a French student of medicine, who had lodged in the same house in London with a man in a fever. This poor man was continually teased by the nurse to drink, though he nauseated the insipid liquids that were presented to him. At last, when she was more importunate than usual, he whispered in her ear— For God's sake, bring me a salt herring, and I will drink as much as you please!'

The woman indulged him in his request: he devoured

• You say, you will conquer your enemies: I am convinced you will— but France, exhausted by her efforts to conquer external enemies, torn by internal factions, and drained at once of men and money, must be brought to ruin; and may be compared to those ancient monuments to be seen in Egypt. The stranger, beholding them at a distance, is astonished at their grandeur; but if he enters them, what does he find ?-inanímated ashes, and the silence of the tomb.

There is reason to dread that the revolution, having, like Saturn, devoured its own children, will at last produce despotism and the calamities that accompany it.

the herring, drank plentifully, underwent a copious perspiration, and recovered.

The French student inserted this aphorism in his journal.

A salt herring cures an Englishman in a fever! On his return to France, he prescribed the same remedy to the first patient in a fever to whom he was called. The patient died: on which the student inserted in his journal the following caveat.

N. B. Though a salt herring cures an Englishman, it kills a Frenchman!,

Sometime after, the prediction of Vergniaud being mentioned, the deputy who had told the story said, ‹ he hoped it would prove false, and that the French revolution would prove as beneficial to France as the revolution in the year 1688 had done to England.

• J'en doute,'* said Travers, abruptly, and in a pretty loud voice.

• Et purquoi donc, monsieur ?'† said the deputy.

Parceque,' answered Travers, une révolution resemble un peu a un hareng sallé, qui s'accorde mieux avec notre constitution qu'avec la votre aussi y-a-t-il une grande différence entre un Anglais et un Français.' ‡

• Une très-grande différence, assurément !'§ rejoined the Frenchman.

Travers, who did not relish the ironical air with which the deputy said this, exclaimed, in an angry tone, Qu'entendezvous dire par la, monsieur ?' ||

The Frenchman, thinking he had as much reason to be angry as Travers, replied in the same tone,—

'J'entends dire, qu'il y a, Comme vous le dites vous même, une grande, et très-grande différence !' T

I doubt it.

+ Wherefore do you doubt it?

Because a revolution is a little like a salt herring, which agrees bet ter with our constitution than with yours: and besides, there is a great difference between an Englishman and a Frenchman.

§ A very great difference indeed!

What do you mean to say by that, sir?

I mean to say, what you yourself have already said, that there is a great-ay, and a very great difference, between them.

Seeing them likely to quarrel, I interfered, saying, Ne vous échauffez donc pas tant, messieurs; où, si vous voulez absolument avoir un querelle, que ce soit pour un autre raison que celle d'être l'un et l'autre du même avis.'*

This put the two disputants in better humour; and it was evident enough, that the whole company, French, aṣ well as English, were fully satisfied that it should be received as an indisputable truth, that there is a great difference between Englishmen and Frenchmen.

This is the only time in which I ever found so many individuals of those two nations of the same way of thinking. Adieu!

J. MORDAUNT.

LETTER V.

From the Same to the Same.

Vevay.

WHATEVER difference there may be between the British natural character and the French, I am convinced there is not a greater than between France as it now is, and as formerly was.

Instead of that gay metropolis, the ingenuity, the taste, and even the absurdities of whose inhabitants afforded instruction, entertainment, and laughter, to the rest of Europe, Paris seems now to be the abode of terror and cruelty, from whence the neighbouring nations are menaced with devastation and ruin !

Who could have imagined, that a nation so fond of amusement and pleasantry would have been the abode of so much misery ?

It were to be wished, that France could, with truth, say to the rest of Europe what Scarron, the husband of Madame Maintenon, said to his relations, weeping round his deathbed. I shall never make you weep so much as I have made you laugh."

"Don't be so violent; or, if you are determined to quarrel, let it be on some other account than because you are both of one opinion.

That France herself has as much reason to weep as any other country is no great consolation.

The choice of members for the national convention gives no favourable idea of so very popular an election. What share of learning, eloquence, taste and humanity existed in that assembly almost exclusively belonged to the party which went under the name of the Gironde. This party seemed to have the lead for some time in the convention; but they were soon overset by the furious faction of the Mountain, supported by the Jacobin clubs and the ruffians of the suburbs.

At the time when the twenty-one members of the Gironde were executed, the whole nation of France were under the absolute dominion of the Jacobin society of Paris; for the national convention durst not then disobey the mandates of the conseil général de la commune; which, on its part, was equally obedient to the decrees, however furious, of that society, which had been abandoned by all who possessed any share of moderation; and was composed entirely of ignorant, brutal enthusiasts, prompted by a few wicked and ambitious men.

Nothing could be more absurd than the accusation brought against the Girondists; namely, that they conspired to restore the monarchy; and their having opposed the execution of the king was urged as a clear proof of the accusation.

They were also accused of federalism: the import of which their judges themselves did not understand. When one of them was asked what it meant, he said He was no grammarian, but that it sounded like a very heinous crime.'

The crimes, which might with justice have been stated against Brissot and the Girondists, were, their having overthrown the constitution which they had sworn to support, and their having calumniated the king, in order to render monarchy odious to the nation, and to pave the way to a republican form of government.

That measure, however, was precipitated on them sooner than they expected, by Coelut d'Herbois, who was no