A Residence in France During the Years 1792, 1793, 1794 and 1795, Complete. Charlotte Biggs
no order is of very modern foundation, nor that the preſent century has, in a great degree, exploded the faſhion of compounding for ſins by endowing religious inſtitutions. Thus, neceſſarily, by the great change which has taken place in the expence of living, many eſtabliſhments that were poorly endowed muſt have become unable to ſupport themſelves, but for the efforts of thoſe who were attached to them. It is true, that the rent of land has increaſed as itſ produce became more valuable; but every one knows that the landſ dependent on religious houſes have always been let on ſuch moderate terms, as by no means to bear a proportion to the neceſſities they were intended to ſupply; and as the monaſtic vows have long ceaſed to be the frequent choice of the rich, little increaſe has been made to the original ſtock by the acceſſion of new votaries:—yet, under all theſe diſadvantages, many ſocieties have been able to rebuild their houſes, embelliſh their churches, purchaſe plate, &c. &c. The love of their order, that ſpirit of oeconomy for which they are remarkable, and a perſevering induſtry, had their uſual effects, and not only baniſhed poverty, but became a ſource of wealth. An indefatigable labour at ſuch works as could be profitably diſpoſed of, the education of children, and the admiſſion of boarders, were the means of enriching a number of convents, whoſe proper revenues would not have afforded them even a ſubſiſtence.
But the fruits of active toil or voluntary privation, have been confounded with thoſe of expiatory bequeſt and miſtaken devotion, and have alike become the prey of a rapacious and unfeeling government. Many communities are driven from habitations built abſolutely with the produce of their own labour. In ſome places they were refuſed even their bedſ and linen; and the ſtock of wood, corn, &c. provided out of the ſavingſ of their penſions, (underſtood to be at their own diſpoſal,) have been ſeized, and ſold, without making them the ſmalleſt compenſation.
Thus deprived of every thing, they are ſent into the world with a prohibition either to live ſeveral of them together, wear their habits,* or practiſe their religion; yet their penſionſ** are too ſmall for them to live upon, except in ſociety, or to pay the uſual expence of boarding: many of them have no other means of procuring ſecular dreſſes, and ſtill more will imagine themſelves criminal in abſtaining from the mode of worſhip they have been taught to think ſalutary.
* Two religious, who boarded with a lady I had occaſion to ſee ſometimes, told me, that they had been ſtrictly enjoined not to dreſs like each other in any way. ** The penſions are from about ſeventeen to twenty-five poundſ ſterling per annum.—At the time I am writing, the neceſſaries of life are increaſed in price nearly two-fifths of what they bore formerly, and are daily becoming dearer. The Convention are not always inſenſible to thiſ—the pay of the foot ſoldier is more than doubled.
It is alſo to be remembered, that women of ſmall fortune in France often embraced the monaſtic life as a frugal retirement, and, by ſinking the whole they were poſſeſſed of in this way, they expected to ſecure a certain proviſion, and to place themſelves beyond the reach of future viciſſitudes: yet, though the ſums paid on theſe occaſions can be eaſily aſcertained, no indemnity has been made; and many will be obliged to violate their principles, in order to receive a trifling penſion, perhapſ much leſs than the intereſt of their money would have produced without loſs of the principal.
But the views of theſe legiſlating philoſophers are too ſublimely extenſive to take in the wrongs or ſufferings of contemporary individuals; and not being able to diſguiſe, even to themſelves, that they create much miſery at preſent, they promiſe incalculable advantageſ to thoſe who ſhall happen to be alive ſome centuries hence! Moſt of theſe poor nuns are, however, of an age to preclude them from the hope of enjoying this Millennium; and they would have been content en attendant theſe glorious times, not to be deprived of the neceſſaries of life, or marked out as objects of perſecution.
The private diſtreſſes occaſioned by the diſſolution of the convents are not the only conſequences to be regretted—for a time, at leaſt, the loſſ muſt certainly be a public one. There will now be no means of inſtruction for females, nor any refuge for thoſe who are without friendſ or relations: thouſands of orphans muſt be thrown unprotected on the world, and guardians, or ſingle men, left with the care of children, have no way to diſpoſe of them properly. I do not contend that the education of a convent is the beſt poſſible: yet are there many advantageſ attending it; and I believe it will readily be granted, that an education not quite perfect is better than no education at all. It would not be very difficult to prove, that the ſyſtems of education, both in England and France, are extremely defective; and if the characters of women are generally better formed in one than the other, it is not owing to the ſuperiority of boarding-ſchools over convents, but to the difference of our national manners, which tend to produce qualities not neceſſary, or not valued, in France.
The moſt diſtinguiſhed female excellencies in England are an attachment to domeſtic life, an attention to its oeconomies, and a cultivated underſtanding. Here, any thing like houſe-wifery is not expected but from the lower claſſes, and reading or information is confined chiefly to profeſſed wits. Yet the qualities ſo much eſteemed in England are not the effect of education: few domeſtic accompliſhments, and little uſeful knowledge, are acquired at a boarding-ſchool; but finally the national character aſſerts its empire, and the female who has gone through a courſe of frivolities from ſix to ſixteen, who has been taught that the firſt "human principle" ſhould be to give an elegant tournure to her perſon, after a few yearſ' diſſipation, becomes a good wife and mother, and a rational companion.
In France, young women are kept in great ſecluſion: religion and oeconomy form a principal part of conventual acquirements, and the natural vanity of the ſex is left to develope itſelf without the aid of authority, or inſtillation by precept—yet, when releaſed from this ſober tuition, manners take the aſcendant here as in England, and a woman commences at her marriage the aera of coquetry, idleneſs, freedom, and rouge.—We may therefore, I think, venture to conclude, that the education of a boarding-ſchool is better calculated for the rich, that of a convent for the middle claſſes and the poor; and, conſequently, that the ſuppreſſion of this laſt in France will principally affect thoſe to whom it was moſt beneficial, and to whom the want of it will be moſt dangerous.
A committee of wiſe men are now forming a plan of public inſtruction, which is to excel every thing ever adopted in any age or country; and we may therefore hope that the defects which have hitherto prevailed, both in theirs and our own, will be remedied. All we have to apprehend is, that, amidſt ſo many wiſe heads, more than one wiſe plan may be produced, and a difficulty of choice keep the riſing generation in a ſort of abeyance, ſo that they muſt remain ſterile, or may become vitiated, while it is determining in what manner they ſhall be cultivated.
It is almoſt a phraſe to ſay, the reſources of France are wonderful, and this is no leſs true than generally admitted. Whatever be the want or loſs, it is no ſooner known than ſupplied, and the imagination of the legiſlature ſeems to become fertile in proportion to the exigence of the moment.—I was in ſome pain at the diſgrace of Mirabeau, leſt this new kind of retroſpective judgement ſhould depopulate the Pantheon of the few divinities that remained; more eſpecially when I conſidered that Voltaire, notwithſtanding his merits as an enemy to revelation, had been already accuſed of ariſtocracy, and even Rouſſeau himſelf might not be found impeccable. His Contrat Social might not, perhaps, in the eyes of a committee of philoſophical Rhadmanthuſ's, atone for his occaſional admiration of chriſtianity: and thus ſome crime, either of church or ſtate, diſfranchiſe the whole race of immortals, and their fame ſcarcely outlaſt the diſpute about their earthly remains.*
* Alluding to the diſputes between the Convention and the perſon who claimed the excluſive right to the remains of Rouſſeau.
My concern, on this account, was the more juſtifiable, becauſe the great fallibility which prevailed among the patriots, and the very delicate ſtate of the reputation of thoſe who retained their political exiſtence, afforded no hope that they could ever fill the vacancies in the Pantheon.—But my fears were very ſuperfluouſ—France