inst the
French revolution. This movement--which now appears sacrilegious, since
it armed citizens against their country, and led them to implore the
assistance of foreign powers to combat France--did not at that time
possess in the eyes of the French noblesse that parricidal character
with which the more enlightened patriotism of the present age invests
it. Culpable in the eyes of reason, it could at least explain itself
before feeling. Infidelity to their country was termed fidelity to their
king, and desertion, honour.
Allegiance to the throne was the religion of the French nobles; and the
sovereignty of the people appeared to them an insolent dogma, against
which it was imperative to take arms, unless they wished to be partakers
of the crime. The noblesse had patiently supported the humiliation and
the personal spoliation of title and fortune which the National Assembly
had imposed on them by the destruction of the last vestiges of the
feudal system; or rather, they had generously sacrificed them to their
country on the night of the 6th of August. But these outrages on the
king appeared more intolerable to them than those inflicted on
themselves. To deliver him from his captivity--rescue him from impending
danger--save the queen and her children--restore royalty--or perish
fighting for this sacred cause, appeared to them the duty of their
situation and their birth. On one side was honour, on the other their
country: they had not hesitated, but had followed honour; and this was
sanctified even more in their eyes by the magic word devotion. There was
real devotion in the feeling that induced these young and these old men
to abandon their rank in the army--their fortune--their country--their
families, to rally around the white flag in a foreign land, to perform
the duty of private soldiers, and brave eternal exile, the spoliation
pronounced against them by the laws of their country, the fatigues of
the camp, and death and danger on the battle-field. If the devotion of
the patriots to the Revolution was sublime as hope, that of the emigrant
nobles was generous as despair. In civil wars we should ever judge each
party by its own ideas, for civil wars are almost invariably the
expression of two duties in opposition to each other. The duty of the
patriots was their country; of the _emigres_, the throne: one of the two
parties was deceived as to its duty, but each believed it fulfilled it.
XIII.
The emigration was c
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