REFLECTIONS

sacres on Sunday were produced, is a subject well worthy of inquiry; for the presence of such SUGGESTED BY THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. feelings as theirs, when they pervade masses, most [We recommend this article to the careful attention of deeply affects all calculations on the destiny of manthe reader, as the production of a highly gifted and philo- kind. We will offer some reflections, by as brief sophical mind.]-Ed. Mess. an examination of those principles of the human

able to present.

No event of modern times-perhaps no circum-character which relate to the subject, as we are stance in the history of our species, excited more deeply the attention of mankind than the French There is a propensity strong in all men to be inRevolution. The extraordinary moral phenomena terestingly occupied. It is the indulgence of this it exhibited, astounded those who, accustomed to feeling that gives to life its chief enjoyment, and contemplate the current of civilized society under its disappointment is attended with a strong sense the influence of other agents, were utterly unpre- of dissatisfaction and suffering. The feeling which pared to expect them. The revolutions of other is called ennui by the French, is the peculiar countries, such as those of England and the Uni- misery suffered when nothing is offered that exted States of America, proceeded with a respect cites us-when the soul recoils on itself, and the for life and property, and terminated in changes eye exhibits the stare of the languid. It may, which left every class in society in a situation not without violence, be called the hunger of the soul; radically different from their original state. But and is, of all the incentives to human action, the in France, as the revolution advanced, every thing most constant, and the most imperative. belonging to the old system was destroyed; whole only occasionally under the dominion of other inclasses were swept away, and every thing sub-fluences, but this is unceasingly urgent throughverted that the hand of man could overturn. out the whole of his earthly career. The sensation is thus strikingly described by one who felt its power:

The remorseless disregard of human life and happiness, among those who professed to be peculiarly the friends of humanity and liberty, excited wonder and horror in all reflecting men, and led many to believe there were qualities in the French character which marked it as different from that of the rest of our race. Deep prejudices against

"The keenest pangs the wretched find,
Are rapture to the dreary void,
The leafless desert of the mind,
The waste of feelings unemployed.
Who would be doomed to gaze upon
The sky without a cloud or sun?
Less hideous far the tempest's roar,

Than ne'er to brave the billows more."

Man is

France pervaded the civilized world, operative to this hour, and weighing heavily on the progress of amelioration, which the institutions of past ages so loudly demand. Of the writers of that period, Mr. A feeling so urgent was doubtless intended to Burke said: "Their object is to corrupt all that is make man an active being, and to render a life of good in man-to eradicate his immortal soul-to absolute indolence intolerable. The savage, under dethrone God from the universe. They are the its influence, rushes to the stirring scenes of war brood of that putrid carcass that mother of all or the chase, or to draughts of inebriating liquors evil, the French Revolution. I never think of that when within his reach, and to the excesses of gaplague-spot in the history of mankind, without ming, to shake off the burden it imposes. (3) Civishuddering."(1) lized nations have devised many methods for their Of this wonderful revolution much has been writ-relief in private and public amusements, but with ten, both by natives of France and foreigners, but very partial success, as those most conversant no attempt to explain its awful atrocities has been with them have testified. In the gay scenes of made, that we have seen, that is at all satisfactory Paris, the witty and admired Madame Du Deffand, to us. M. Thiers, one of the most popular of its although surrounded for many years by the most historians, merely says, in describing the most brilliant and accomplished society, complains inwanton and unprovoked massacre at the Bicetre cessantly of the insufficiency of the scenes around prison, which closed the horrid tragedies of Sep- her to procure happiness. With a sensibility worn tember 1792: "The monsters who poured out below the point of pleasurable excitement from all blood since Sunday, became enraged by this horri- that wit or talent could offer, she is constantly ble undertaking, and contracted a habit which they complaining of the absence of interested feelings, could not discontinue."(2) as the misery of life. "True happiness," she exHow the monsters who commenced the mas-claims, "is to be exempt from ennui; all that pre(1) Life of Sir James McIntosh-vol. 1, p. 94. London: serves us from it is equally good."(4) And says

1836.

(2) Les etres monstrueux qui versaient le sang depuis le Dimanche, s'étaient achamés a cette horrible tâche, et en avaient contracté une habitude qu'ils ne pouvaient plus interrompre. His. de la Rev. Francaise. Tom. 2, p. 334.

VOL. VII-77

(3) See Tacitus De Moribus Germanorum, and Robertson on the American Indians.

(4) Vol 1, p. 139: Letters of Madame Du Deffand to the Honorable Horace Walpole. London: 1810.

again, bitterly: "It is to die every day, to live without loving any thing."(5)

"Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto." But there is another feeling which springs up and To love nothing-to feel interest in nothing, is unites with this sentiment of excited attention, truly the misery of life; but fortunately for human which is all important to its useful exercise. It is nature this will not happen, unless the feelings the sentiment of love; and it prompts us to make have been misused. Nature has implanted in man the exertions which an awakened attention points a deep interest in the affairs of the world of which he is an inhabitant; and as long as he makes a proper use of his sensibility, the scenes around him will always engage his attention.

out as necessary. Wherever pain of any kind exists, the effort to relieve is prompted by the love we entertain for the object; and far the greater part of the strong emotions, such as most decidedly draw the observation of others, are more or less mingled with pain.

Among the objects that naturally attract him, the manifestation in others of feelings, to which he is himself subject, are of the first order. Wonder In the dangers of our friends, we rush readily to may stare at the phenomena of inanimate nature, the rescue. In the dangers and distresses of enbut the interest of the scene becomes infinitely tire strangers, our feeling would be in proportion to deeper when human beings are involved in it. A the general sense of humanity we may entertain, vessel suffering shipwreck would attract attention; but far feebler than in the case of friends. But if but how immeasurably would the anxiety of the all feeling of love or humanity were extinct, the moment be increased, if we were to be informed distresses of others would merely awaken our at that there were human beings on board? How tention, without calling forth any desire to relieve. deeply would we sympathize with the various emo- The idea may be illustrated by the following extions to which we might suppose their situation ample, as the feeling towards the inferior animals gave rise! An earthquake or a volcano would al- differs only in degree, not in kind, from that we ways affect us deeply; but the interest would be entertain towards men: The sportsman pursues greatly heightened, if informed that beings of the fox with pleasure, and the harder the animal our race were within their destructive influence. is pressed, the more delightful is the chase. But Whatever strongly moves human passions in others, were he to discover that it was a favorite dog presents to us objects of interest. It is thus that the incidents of life are attractive-that history and romance engage us, and the representations of the drama afford amusement to persons of every condition.

who was the object of pursuit, and in imminent danger of destruction, and not the fox as he at first supposed, his pleasure would instantly vanish; he would hasten to throw himself between the pursuers and the pursued, in order to rescue from deNor do we sympathize only with the emotions struction what he had just before anxiously sought of our own species. The manifestation in other to ruin. Or, if a person could be the spectator of animals, of emotion, to which we are subject, acts an engagement between the armies of two nations, upon us with similar but with not so powerful an who were strangers to him, from some commandeffect. The gratitude of the dog has furnished ing eminence, the scene would deeply engage his many an interesting story. The conjugal love of attention, without however exciting any desire to the dove has been made the theme of poetry; and mingle in it. But if one of the armies consisted the wrath of the lion and the tiger, so terrible in the of his own countrymen, his feelings would assume forest, has been made subservient to the amusement a much more intense character, and, if he were a of multitudes, in the games of the amphitheatre. brave man, he would rush to their assistance. It would seem consonant to the wisdom of na- Still more anxious would he be to lend his aid, if ture, that man should be most attracted by what many of his own personal friends and relations most concerns his happiness and safety. The were struggling in the conflict. emotions of his fellow-beings are preeminently of It is this feeling of excited interest in the trying that character, and they are of the first order of scenes of other beings, connected with a feeling of interest. Without an attention to, and a knowledge good will towards them, prompting to sympathy of them, we could not exist at all; we should be with their emotions, and to assistance in their disperpetually running into dangers that would be tresses, which constitute the social principle, and fatal. Our attention seems, consequently, called forth to such agents in the earliest stage of infancy. The child instinctively recognizes the angry or the affectionate feelings of its nurse, in the changes of the countenance, or in the tones of the voice and the attention, thus early awakened, is destined to continue through life. In the language

of the Latin poet

(5) Vol. 3, p. 133: Letters of Madame Du Deffand to the Honorable Horace Walpole. London: 1810.

form the cement of society. Without an aptitude to be excited by the manifestation of all the stirring passions incident to humanity, we should pass them without notice: and without a sentiment of love, we would experience no disposition to relieve. Man would be in this world an insulated being, receiving no aid from his fellows, and, having less bodily resources for subistence than other animals, would very speedily disappear from the earth.

Without the principle of love, he would be the

A populace relieved from the necessity of pro

enemy rather than the friend of his race. Their dangers and distresses would afford him amuse-viding for its own subsistence, would require to be ment, rather than pain, constituted as he is, to be amused also; and, as that of Rome conferred power agreeably interested in the display of all the tragic over the fairest portion of the earth by its votes; passions; and it is only when he feels love, that as all Europe, Asia and Africa then worth postheir sorrows excite pain, and urge him to relieve. sessing, were under the dominion of Rome, aspiWithout love, he would feel towards his fellow-rants for office vied with each other in the means beings, what in society he feels towards the beasts of propitiating those who had the means of bestowof the forest; whose pursuit and destruction are ing what ambition so much covets. Public specevery where a source of pleasure. All know tacles were as important as bread to an idle people; something of the pleasures of the chase-of the and men, as well as the various animals of the enjoyment derived from hunting the wolf, the wild-forest, were introduced to the amphitheatre, to boar, the fox, and many other animals.

shed their blood for their amusement. The men During the dark ages, a large portion of Europe were first selected from among the prisoners of was kept in a forest state, to breed game for the war-of whom the boldest, handsomest and most amusement of sovereigns and potent barons. To active, were preferred; but it soon became a cuskill animals of this kind, was thought far too high tom to train up slaves also for this cruel purpose; a pleasure for the common people; and they were and they were kept in great numbers by the wealthy, interdicted from hunting, and even from defending not only for the entertainment of the public, but for their property from animals preserved as game, private parties. "They were sworn to decline no under the severest penalties. Laws of this cha- combat, and to shun no hardship to which they racter prevailed in France up to the time of the were exposed by their masters: they were of difrevolution. "Game of the most destructive kind, ferent denominations, and accustomed to fight in such as wild-boars and herds of deer, were permit- different ways; but those from whom the whole ted to go at large through spacious districts, with- received their designation, employed the sword and out any enclosure to protect the crops. Numerous buckler, or target; and they commonly fought naked, edicts existed which prohibited hoeing and weed- that the place and nature of the wounds they reing, lest the young partridges should be disturbed; ceived might the more plainly appear. mowing hay, lest the eggs should be destroyed; taking away the stubble, lest the birds should be deprived of shelter; manuring with night soil, lest their flavor should be injured."(6)

"Even in this prostitution of valor, refinements of honor were introduced. There were certain graces of attitude which the gladiator was not permitted to quit, even to avoid a wound. There was Man in general feels more for his own race than a manner, which he studied to preserve, in his fall, he does for other animals; but his affection may in his bleeding posture, and even in his death. He be in some cases so cold as to regard a mortal was applauded or hissed according as he succeeded conflict between two men, as he would one be- or failed in any of these particulars. When, after tween two beasts of prey. The Roman amphi- a tedious struggle, he was spent with labor and the theatre for ages presented to the inhabitants of loss of blood, he still endeavored to preserve the that mistress of the then civilized world, specta- dignity of his character-dropt or resumed the cles of both kinds for their amusement, leaving sword at his master's pleasure, and looked round it doubtful which afforded most enjoyment, the to the spectators for marks of their satisfaction combats of wild beasts, or of that unfortunate class and applause."(8) of men called gladiators. A slight reference to "When a gladiator was wounded, he lowered the manners of the Romans, at this period of their his sword in token of submission; and his doom history, will make this subject more intelligible. then depended on the will of the spectators; who After the power of Carthage was overthrown, pressed down their thumbs if they chose to save and Rome had no longer a formidable rival to fear, him, but held them up if it was their pleasure he the simplicity of ancient manners underwent a should be slain. Incredible as it may appear, this speedy change. The custom of making gratuitous inhuman signal was very commonly given,—aldistributions of corn to the people, was gradually ways indeed if the unfortunate man betrayed either introduced, and became soon a confirmed habit. inexpertness or timidity; and it was only when his The bulk of the community was supported from skill and courage seemed to promise future sport, the coffers of the State. "The frequent and regu- that his life was spared."(9)

death

lar distributions of wine and oil, of corn or bread, The fairer sex eagerly joined in the signal for of money or provisions," says Mr. Gibbon, "had almost exempted the poorer citizens of Rome from the necessity of labor.”(7)

(6) Introduction to Thiers' History of the French Revolution, by the Editor-p. 18. Philadelphia: 1840.

(7) Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire-vol. 2, p. 83.

-Pectusque jacentis,

Virgo modesta jubet, converso pollice rumpi.(10)

(8) Ferguson's Roman Republic-vol. 2, p. 238-'39.
(9) Manners of the Romans-p. 192.
(10) Prudent de Vestal.

sic fiunt octo mariti Quinque per autumnos.(15)

These shows constituted at length so material a or pleasure.”(14) Juvenal reproaches a Roman lady part of the public festivities, that ten thousand with having eight husbands in five yearsgladiators are said to have fought in Rome alone during the celebration of Trajan's triumph over the Dacians; and in the European part of the Roman At a subsequent period, St. Jerome mentions a RoEmpire only, twenty thousand men have perished by them in one month. (11) For, every city of the Empire, in the progress of wealth and luxury, was possessed of an independent revenue, destined to purchase corn for the multitude, and supply the expense of games and public entertainments.(12)

man who had had twenty wives, and a lady twentytwo husbands. It is worthy of remark, that this state of manners was regarded as most unfavorable to the male sex, as was manifested by their resistance when pressed to marriage by Augustus.

The corruption of married life is fatal to the A people who, without scruple, indulged their most important portion of the ties on which society thirst for excitement at such an enormous expense depends; for, it is from the domestic affections, of human blood, would not be sparing of any other that love of country and of mankind is derived. means that could warm the passions or soothe The husband feels no love for the child of whose the senses. The pleasures of the table were car- paternity he is doubtful;—the wife, in the round of ried to the utmost extreme; and the cook, once re- licentious pleasures, is forgetful or regardless of garded as the meanest of the slaves, became the most maternal duties; and the child neglected, or otherimportant officer of the household. The purchase wise maltreated, has its infant affections withered of a cook, we are informed by Pliny, cost as much in the bud. Experiencing no love, it learns to feel as the expense of a triumph; and the price of one none, and becomes a being of exclusive selfishof the magnificent tables in use, was greater than ness, indifferent to kindred and to country, which that of a large field. Articles of food became va- is chiefly loved for being the home of those we lued rather for their rarity and enormous cost than love. for other qualities. Maltese cranes, peacocks and The pleasures which terminate in self, are all rare singing birds, although in general not relished easily exhausted. The sensibility which is essenelsewhere, were esteemed great delicacies, and tial to their pleasurable action is rapidly worn by their tongues and brains still more so. The second exercise, and they require a constantly increased Apicius held a public school of gluttony at Rome, pungency, in the agents which act on them, to proexpended immense sums to satisfy his own, and duce the customary excitement. As in the case of composed a treatise, (de gula irritamentis,) in the opium taker, or the drinker of ardent spirits, which he taught the means of sharpening the appe- the quantity at first which is productive of suffitite. Having reduced his fortune, he poisoned cient excitement is small, but it requires rapidly himself in despair.(13)

to be increased to produce the same effect; and The passion which unites the sexes-the source the wretched victim of these unfortunate appetites of so much happiness and virtue where it is che- clings, with increasing devotion, as his system berished in purity-presents too many sources of comes more torpid, to these agents of his ruin. So excitement to remain uncorrupted among a sen- it is with him who has grown up in scenes of selsual people. Where the appetites are stimulated fish indulgence: his capacity for amusement dimin to excess, and indulged without restraint in other ishes as his appetite increases; and, as the princirespects, the marriage tie soon becomes relaxed ple of love has had no culture or opportunity for and loosened by the desire of new loves. This exercise, he readily yields to the excitement which was the case, to a frightful extent, among the Ro- the tragic scenes of his fellow-beings afford, withmans. Although the liberty of divorce always ex-out any of the pity or desire of relief which makes isted among them, they abstained from its exercise them painful. for more than five hundred years after their estabA person thus constituted is unfitted to live any lishment as a people. But, after the Punic tri- where, except in scenes pungent enough to act on umphs, when the system of gratuitous distributions his jaded faculties; although there he is far from of corn, wine and oil took place, and public spec- being happy. He feels the lassitude of wasted tacles were frequent; when, in short, idleness and appetite. He feels in a society, where the affeeits attendant desires became universal, a great tions of love and friendship are nearly extinct, change occurred. "Passion, interest, or caprice," that, although in a crowd, he stands alone. He is says Mr. Gibbon, "suggested daily motives for the subject to the cravings of depraved appetite-to dissolution of marriage;-a word, a sign, a mes-fear and to ennui; and, although habit may give sage, a letter; the mandate of a freedman declared the separation; the most tender of human connections was degraded to a transient society of profit (11) Manners of the Romans-p. 193. (12) Gibbon-vol. 1, p. 165.

(13) Note 8th-Satire 4. Juvenal, Paris, 1826.

him the power of appearing cheerful in public, his real enjoyments are far below those of the peasant who labors for his bread. "When I think," says (14) Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire-vol. 4, p. (15) Satire 6th.

275.