agent which the law requires; in the small
communes, these are the only agents of the revolutionary government, and
I fancy that, in most cases, their Jacobin fervor is moderate. Municipal
officer, national agent or mayor, the real peasant of that day belongs
to no party, neither royalist nor republican;[3361] his ideas are
rare, too transient and too sluggish, to enable him to form a political
opinion. All he comprehends of the Revolution is that which nettles him,
or that which he sees every day around him, with his own eyes; to him
'93 and '94 are and will remain "the time of bad paper (money) and great
fright," and nothing more.[3362] Patient in his habits., he submits to
the new as he did to the ancient regime, bearing the load put on his
shoulders, and stooping down for fear of a heavier one. He is often
mayor or national agent in spite of himself; he has been obliged to take
the place and would gladly throw the burden off. For, as times go, it
is onerous; if he executes decrees and orders, he is certain to make
enemies; if he does not execute them, he is sure to be imprisoned; he
had better remain, or go back home "Gros-Jean," as he was before. But he
has no choice; the appointment being once made and confirmed, he cannot
decline, nor resign, under penalty of being a "suspect;" he must be the
hammer in order not to become the anvil. Whether he is a wine-grower,
miller, ploughman or quarry-man, he acts reluctantly, "submitting a
petition for resignation," as soon as the Terror diminishes, on the
ground that "he writes badly," that "he knows nothing whatever about law
and is unable to enforce it;" that "he has to support himself with his
own hands;" that "he has a family to provide for, and is obliged to
drive his own cart" or vehicle; in short, entreating that he "may be
relieved of his charge."[3363]--These involuntary recruits are evidently
nothing more than common laborers; if they drag along the revolutionary
cart they do it like their horses, because they are pressed into the
service.

Above the small communes, in the large villages possessing a
revolutionary committee, and also in certain bourgs, the horses in
harness often pretend to draw and do not, for fear of crushing some
one.--At this epoch, a straggling village, especially when isolated, in
an out-of-the-way place and on no highway, is a small world in itself,
much more secluded than now-a-days, much less accessible to Parisian
verbiage and outside pr