Part 50

"Men of fashion at this day follow the trade of _mouchards_; most of them style themselves _Monsieur le Baron_, _Monsieur le Comte_, _Monsieur le Marquis_. There was a time, under Lewis XV, when spies were so numerous, that it was impossible for friends, who assembled together, to open their heart to each other concerning matters which deeply affected their interest. The ministerial inquisition had posted its sentinels at the door of every room, and listeners in every closet. Ingenuous confidences, made from friends to friends, and intended to die in the very bosom where they had been deposited, were punished as dangerous conspiracies.

"These odious researches poisoned social life, deprived men of pleasures the most innocent, and transformed citizens into enemies who trembled to unbosom themselves to each other.

"One fourth of the servants in Paris serve as spies; and the secrets of families, which are thought the most concealed, come to the knowledge of those interested in being acquainted with them.

"Independently of the spies of the police, ministers have spies belonging to themselves, and keep them in pay: these are the most dangerous of all, because they are less suspected than others, and it is more difficult to know them. By these means, ministers know what is said of them; yet, of this they avail themselves but little. They are more intent to ruin their enemies, and thwart their adversaries, than to derive a prudent advantage from the free and ingenuous hints given them by the multitude.

"It is entertaining enough to consider that, in proper time and place, spies are watching him who, at his pleasure, sets spies to watch other citizens. Thus, the links which connect mankind in political order are really incomprehensible. He who does not admire the manner in which society exists, and is supported by the simultaneous reaction of its members, and who sees not the serpent's _tail_ entering its _mouth_, is not born for reflection.

"But the secrets of courts are not revealed through spies; they get wind by means of certain people who are not in the least mistrusted; in like manner the best built ships leak through an imperceptible chink, which cannot be discovered.

"What is interesting in courts, and particularly so in ours," says MERCIER, "is that there is a degree of obscurity spread over all its proceedings. We wish to penetrate what is concealed, we endeavour to know till we learn; thus it is that the most ingenious machine preserves its highest value only till we have seen the springs which set it in motion.

"After having considered the different parts which form the police of the capital, we still perceive all the radii reaching from the centre to the circumference. How many ramifications issue from the same stem! How far the branches extend! What an impulse does not Paris give to other neighbouring cities!

"The police of Paris has an intimate correspondence with that of Lyons and other provincial cities: for it is evident that it would be imperfect, if it could not follow the disturber of public order, and if the distance of a few leagues skreened him from researches.

"The correspondence of the Parisian police is not therefore limited to its walls; it extends much farther; and it is in towns where imprudent or rash persons would imagine that they might give their tongue greater freedom, that the vigilant magistrate pries into conversation, and keeps a watchful eye over those who would measure their audacity by the degree of distance from the capital.

"Thus the police of Paris, after having embraced France, penetrates also into Switzerland, Italy, Holland, and Germany;[3] and when occasion requires, its eye is open on all sides to what can interest the government. When it wishes to know any fact, it is informed of it to a certainty; when it wishes to strike a serious blow, it seldom misses its aim.

"It may easily be conceived that the machine would be incomplete, and that its play would fail in the desired effect, did it not embrace a certain extent. It costs but little to give to the lever the necessary length. Whether the spy be kept in pay at Paris, or a hundred leagues off, the expense is the same, and the utility becomes greater.

"Experience has shewn that these observations admit of essential differences in the branches of the police. Weights and measures must be changed, according to time, place, persons, and circumstances. There are no fixed rules; they must be created at the instant, and the most versatile actions are not destitute of wisdom and reason.

"Of this wholesale legislators are not aware: it is reserved for practitioners to seize these shades of distinction. There must be a customary, and, as it were, every-day policy, in order to decide well without precipitation, without weakness, and without rigour. What would be a serious fault at Paris, would be a simple imprudence at Lyons, an indifferent thing elsewhere, and so on reciprocally.

"Now this science has not only its details and its niceties, it has also its variations, and sometimes even its oppositions. Ministers must have a steady eye and great local experience, in order to be able to strike true, and strike opportunely, without espousing imaginary terrors; which, in matters of police, is the greatest fault that can be committed.[4]

"LYCURGUS, SOLON, LOCKE, and PENN! you have made very fine and majestic laws; but would you have divined these? Although secret, they exist; they have their wisdom, and even their depth. The distance of a few leagues gives to matters of police two colours, which bear to each other no resemblance; and there is no principal town which is not obliged, in modeling its police on that of Paris, to introduce into it the greatest modifications. The motto of every Minister of Police ought to be this: _The letter of the law kills, its spirit gives life._

"The safety of Paris, during the night, is owing to the guard[5] and two or three hundred _mouchards_, who trot about the streets, and recognize and follow suspected persons. It is chiefly by night that the police makes its captions."

The manner in which these captions are made is humorously, gravely, feelingly, and philosophically described by the ingenious MERCIER. Long as this letter already is, I am confident that you will not regret its being still lengthened by another extract or two relative to this interesting point; thus I shall terminate the only elucidation that you are likely to obtain on a subject which has so strongly excited your curiosity.

"The comic," says our lively author, "is here blended with the serious. The fulminating order, which is going to crush you, is in the pocket of the _exempt_, who feels a degree of pleasure in the exercise of his dreadful functions. He enjoys a secret pride in being bearer of the thunder; he fancies himself the eagle of Jove: but his motion is like that of a serpent. He glides along, dodges you, crouches before you, approaches your ear, and with down-cast eyes and a soft-toned voice, says to you, at the same time shrugging his shoulders: '_Je suis au désespoir, Monsieur; mais j'ai un ordre, Monsieur, qui vous arrête, Monsieur; de la part de la police, Monsieur_.'----'_Moi, Monsieur_?'----'_Vous-même, Monsieur_.'----You waver an instant between anger and indignation, ready to vent all sorts of imprecations. You see only a polite, respectful, well-bred man, bowing to you, mild in his speech, and civil in his manners. Were you the most furious of mankind, your wrath would be instantly disarmed. Had you pistols, you would discharge them in the air, and never against the affable _exempt_. Presently you return him his bows: there even arises between you a contest of politeness and good breeding. It is a reciprocity of obliging words and compliments, till the moment when the resounding bolts separate you from the polite man, who goes to make a report of his mission, and whose employment, by no means an unprofitable one, is to imprison people with all possible gentleness, urbanity, and grace.

"I am walking quietly in the street; before me is a young man decently dressed. All at once four fellows seize on him, collar him, push him against the wall, and drag him away. Natural instinct commands me to go to his assistance; a tranquil witness says to me coolly: 'Don't interfere; 'tis nothing, sir, but a caption made by the police.' The young man is handcuffed, and he disappears.

"I wish to enter a narrow street, a man belonging to the guard is posted there as a sentinel: I perceive several of the populace looking out of the windows. 'What's the matter, sir?' say I.---- 'Nothing,' replies he; 'they are only taking up thirty girls of the town at one cast of the net.' Presently the girls, with top-knots of all colours, file off, led by the soldiers of the guard, who lead them gallantly by the hand, with their muskets clubbed.

"It is eleven o'clock at night, or five in the morning, there is a knock at your door; your servant opens it; in a moment your room is filled with a squad of satellites. The order is precise, resistance is vain; every thing that might serve as a weapon is put out of your reach; and the _exempt_, who will not, on that account, boast the less of his bravery even takes your brass pocket-inkstand for a pistol.

"The next day, a neighbour, who has heard a noise in the house, asks what it might be: 'Nothing, 'tis only a man taken up by the police.' ----'What has he done?'----'No one can tell; he has, perhaps, committed a murder, or sold a suspicious pamphlet.'----'But, sir, there's some difference between those two crimes.'----'May be so; but he is carried off.'

"You have been apprehended; but you have not been shewn the order; you have been put into a carriage closely shut up; you know not whither you are going to be taken; but you may be certain that you will visit the wards or dungeons of some prison.

"Whence proceeds the decree of proscription? You cannot rightly guess.

"It is not necessary to write a thick volume against arbitrary arrests. When one has said, _it is an arbitrary act_, one may, without any difficulty, infer every possible consequence. But all captions are not equally unjust: there are a multitude of secret and dangerous crimes which it would be impossible for the ordinary course of the law to take cognizance of, to put a stop to, and punish. When the minister is neither seduced nor deceived, when he yields not to private passion, to blind prepossession, to misplaced severity, his object is frequently to get rid of a disturber of the public peace; and the police, in the manner in which the machine is set up, could not proceed, at the present day, without this quick, active, and repressive power.

"It were only to be wished that there should be afterwards a

## particular tribunal, which should weigh in an exact scale the motives

of each caption, in order that imprudence and guilt, the pen and the poniard, the book and the libel, might not be confounded.

"The inspectors of police determine on their part a great many subaltern captions; as they are generally believed on their word, and as they strike only the lowest class of the people, the chief readily concedes to them the details of this authority.

"Some yield to their peevishness; others, to their caprice: but who knows whether avarice has not also a share in their proceedings, and whether they do not often favour him who pays at the expense of him who does not pay? Thus the liberty of the distressed and lowest citizens would have a tarif; and this strange tax would bear hard on the very numerous portion of _prostitutes_, _professed gamblers_, _quacks_, _hawkers_, _swindlers_, and _adventurers_, all people who do mischief, and whom it is necessary to punish; but who do more mischief when they are obliged to pay, and purchase, during a certain time, the privilege of their irregularities.

"We have imitated from the English their Vauxhall, their Ranelagh, their whist, their punch, their hats, their horse-races, their jockies, their betting; but," concludes MERCIER, "when shall we copy from them something more important, for instance, that bulwark of liberty, the law of _habeas corpus_?"

[Footnote 1: The office of Minister of the Police has since been abolished. M. FOUCHÉ is now a Senator, and the machine of which he was said to be so expert a manager, is confided to the direction of the Prefect of Police, who exercises his functions under the immediate authority of the Ministers, and corresponds with them concerning matters which relate to their respective departments. The higher duties of the Police are at present vested in the _Grand Juge_, who is also Minister of Justice. The former office is of recent creation.]

[Footnote 2: Voltaire thought otherwise; and he was not mistaken.]

[Footnote 3: I shall exemplify this truth by two remarkable facts. About the year 1775, when M. DE SARTINE was Minister of the Police, several forgeries were committed on the Bank of Vienna; Count DE MERCY, then Austrian ambassador at Paris, was directed to make a formal application for the delinquent to be delivered up to justice. What was his astonishment on receiving, a few hours after, a note from M. DE SARTINE, informing him that the author of the said forgeries had never been in Paris; but resided in Vienna, at the same time mentioning the street, the number of the house, and other interesting particulars!

A circumstance which occurred in 1796, proves that, since the revolution, the system of the Parisian police continues to extend to foreign countries. The English Commissary for prisoners of war was requested by a friend to make inquiry, on his arrival in Paris, whether a French lady of the name of BEAUFORT was living, and in what part of France she resided. He did so; and the following day, the card, on which he had written the lady's name, was returned to him, with this addition: "She lives at No. 47, East-street, Manchester-square, London."]

[Footnote 4: The same principle holds good in politics.]

[Footnote 5: The municipal guard of Paris at present consists of 2334 men. The privates must be above 30 and under 45 years of age.]

LETTER LXXII.

_Paris, February 26, 1802._

Referring to an expression made use of in my letter of the 16th of December last,[1] you ask me "What the sciences, or rather the _savans_ or men of science, have done for this people?" With the assistance of a young Professor in the _Collège de France_, who bids fair to eclipse all his competitors, it will not be difficult for me to answer your question.

Let me premise, however, that the _savans_ to whom I allude, must not be confounded with the philosophers, called _Encyclopædists_, from their having been the first to conceive and execute the plan of the _Encyclopædia_. These _savans_ were DIDEROT, D'ALEMBERT, and VOLTAIRE, all professed atheists, who, by the dissemination of their pernicious doctrine, introduced into France an absolute contempt for all religion. This infidelity, dissolving every social tie, every principle between man and man, between the governing and the governed, in the sequel, produced anarchy, rapine, and all their attendant horrors.

At the beginning of the revolution, every mind being turned towards politics, the Sciences were suddenly abandoned: they could have no weight in the struggle which then occupied every imagination. Presently their existence was completely forgotten. Liberty formed the subject of every writing and every discourse: it seemed that orators alone possessed the power of serving her; and this error was

## partly the cause of the calamities which afterwards overwhelmed

France. The greater part of the _savans_ remained simple spectators of the events which were preparing: not one of them openly took part against the revolution. Some involved themselves in it. Those men were urged by great views, and hoped to find, in the renewal of social organization, a mean of applying and realizing their theories. They thought to master the revolution, and were carried away by its torrent; but at that time the most sanguine hopes were indulged. If the love of liberty be no more than a phantom of the brain, if the wish to render men better and happier be no more than a matter of doubt, such errors may be pardoned in those who have paid for them with their life.

It is in the recollection of every one that the National Convention consisted of two parties, which, under the same exterior, were hastening to contrary ends: the one, composed of ignorant and ferocious men, ruled by force; the other, more enlightened, maintained its ground by address. The former, restless possessors of absolute power, and determined to grasp at every thing for preserving it, strove to annihilate the talents and knowledge which made them sensible of their humiliating inferiority. The others, holding the same language, acted in an opposite direction. But being obliged, in order to preserve their influence, never to shew themselves openly, they employed their means with an extreme reserve, and this similarity at once explains the good they did, the evil they prevented, and the calamities which they were unable to avert.

At that time, France was on the very brink of ruin. _Landrecies_, _Le Quesnoy_, _Condé_ and _Valenciennes_ were in the power of her enemies. _Toulon_ had been given up to the English, whose numerous fleets held the dominion of the seas, and occasionally effected debarkations. This country was a prey to famine and terror; _La Vendée_, _Lyons_, and _Marseilles_ were in a state of insurrection. No arms, no powder; no ally that could or would furnish any; and its only resource lay in an anarchical government without either plan or means of defence, and skilful only in persecution. In a word, every thing announced that the Republic would perish, before it could enjoy a year's existence.

In this extremity, two new members were called to the Committee of Public Welfare. These two men organized the armies, conceived plans of campaign, and prepared supplies.

It was necessary to arm nine hundred thousand men; and what was most difficult, it was necessary to persuade a mistrustful people, ever ready to cry out "treason!" of the possibility of such a prodigy. For this purpose, the old manufactories were comparatively nothing; several of them, situated on the frontiers, were invaded by the enemy. They were revived every where with an activity till then unexampled. _Savans_ or men of science were charged to describe and simplify the necessary proceedings. The melting of the church-bells yielded all the necessary metal.[2] Steel was wanting; none could be obtained from abroad, the art of making it was unknown. The _Savans_ were asked to create it; they succeeded, and this part of the public defence thus became independent of foreign countries.

The exigencies of the war had rendered more glaring the urgent necessity of having good topographical maps, and the insufficiency of those in use became every day more evident. The geographical engineers, which corps had been suppressed by the Constituent Assembly, were recalled to the armies, and although they could not, in these first moments, give to their labours the necessary extent and detail, they nevertheless paved the way to the great results since obtained in this branch of the art military. Nothing is more easy than to destroy; nothing is so difficult, and, above all, so tedious as to reconstruct.

The persons then in power had likewise had the prudence to preserve in their functions such pupils and engineers in the civil line as were of an age to come under the requisition. Whatever might be the want of defenders, it was felt that it requires ten years' study to form an engineer; while health and courage suffice for making a soldier. This disastrous period affords instances of foresight and skill which have not always been imitated in times more tranquil.

The Sciences had just rendered great services to the country. They were calumniated; those who had made use of them were compelled to defend them, and did so with courage. A circumstance, equally singular and unforeseen, occasioned complete recourse to be had to their assistance.

An officer arrived at the Committee of Public Welfare: he announced that the republican armies were in presence of the enemy; but that the French generals durst not march their soldiers to battle, because the brandies were poisoned, and that the sick in the hospitals, having drunk some, had died. He requested the Committee to cause them to be examined, asked for orders on this subject, and wished to set off again immediately.

The most skilful chymists were instantly assembled: they were ordered to analyze the brandies, and to indicate, in the course of the day, the poison and the remedy.

These _savans_ laboured without intermission, trusting only to themselves for the most minute details. Scarcely was time allowed them to finish their operations, when they were summoned to appear before the Committee of Public Welfare, over which ROBESPIERRE presided.

They announced that the brandies were not poisoned, and that water only had been added to them, in which was slate in suspension, so that it was sufficient to filter them, in order to deprive them of their hurtful quality.

ROBESPIERRE, who hoped to discover a treason, asked the Commissioners if they were perfectly sure of what they had just advanced. As a satisfactory answer to the question, one of them took a strainer, poured the liquor through it, and drank it without hesitation. All the others followed his example. "What!" said ROBESPIERRE to him, "do you dare to drink these poisoned brandies?"----"I durst do much more," answered he, "when I put my name to the Report."

This service, though in itself of little importance, impressed the public mind with a conception of the utility of the _savans_, a greater number of whom were called into the Committee of Public Welfare. There they were secure from subaltern informers, with which France abounded. Having concerns only with the members charged with the military department, who were endeavouring to save them, they might, by keeping silence, escape the suspicious looks of the tyrants of the day. There was then but one resource for men of merit and virtue, namely, to conceal their existence, and cause themselves to be forgotten.

In the midst of this sanguinary persecution, all the means of defence employed by France, issued from the obscure retreat where the genius of the Sciences had taken refuge.

Powder was the article for which there was the most urgent occasion. The soldiers were on the point of wanting it. The magazines were empty. The administrators of the powder-mills were assembled to know what they could do. They declared that the annual produce amounted to three millions of pounds only, that the basis of it was saltpetre drawn from India, that extraordinary encouragements might raise them to five millions; but that no hopes ought to be entertained of exceeding that quantity. When the members of the Committee of Public Welfare announced to the administrators that they must manufacture seventeen millions of pounds of powder in the space of a few months, the latter remained stupified. "If you succeed in doing this," said they, "you must have a method of making powder of which we are ignorant."