IMPRESSIONS OF THE LATE REVOLUTION (From the London "Times," March 9.)

New Zealander, Volume 4, Issue 222, 15 July 1848, Page 3

IMPRESSIONS OF THE LATE REVOLUTION (From the London " Times," March 9.)

To the Editor of the Times. Sir,— On my return to England, I hear, with ox* treme surprise, that what ha* been passing m France is regarded by many persons, cren of the most educated tlasici, not only with the interest, and udmirntion which certain features of it arc so well calculated to excite, hut with unqualified approbation and enthusiasm. As it is to be presumed (or hoj.cd) that the persons who judge tho matter thus arc led to do go by the] pcrauaiion, that the change which has been wrought, at so vast and unquestioned nn expense of i individual suffering and terror, is for the good of the people, and that the people arc convinced that it is so, allow an eye witness to recommend to them a little tnoro careful inquiry into fact?, and a little more thoughtful view into the future. It ia impossible thut any who are excited to entliu* siaim by a relation of these astonishing events can feel 1 so profound nn interest in the Fiench people as those who, like myself, owe life and property to their forbearance ; who have seen und heard from eye witnetics various touching traits of magnanimity, and who have been the objects of generous s >licitude on the part of men trembling for the very existence of their all, and so worn out with incessant watching, that they might well have been forgiven for losing all recollection of the dangers or fears of strangers. Personally, then, the impressions I received wore calcu» \ luted to raise my opinion of the French people, and to strengthen my attachment to the country, rather than the contrary. It is, perhaps, for this very reason — it is became I do care a great deal more for Fiance than those Who so recklessly hail this disorganization of the entire frame of her society, that I view it, on tho contrary, with the profoundost regret, sadness, and alarm. 1 must add that these, and no other, ate the sentiments which I have heard expressed by Frenchmen oi every party and of every class, without exception. I have seen daily and intimately persons of all parties ; Lc^itiinatists, Cimscivutcurs, or adhevents of tho late Government — adherents of the Molo Ministry of half an hour — adherents of the BarrotMinistiy, equally shoitlived — friends and intimates of members of the Provisional Government. I can most truly and distinctly affirm, that 1 saw and heard nothing from any of them but alarm and consternation, mingled with the strongest condemnations of the two conflicting partir* whose obstinacy had brought about n collision which everybody had feared, though no one's lears had come within the widest iange of the reality. I heard only expiessions of the conviction that the presentoider of things could not last ; that, in spite of the heroic elfoils, the excellent intentions, and the acknowledged talents of several members of the Government, it had u di rtaken to construct an edifice which must fall and crush them under its ruins ; that it was now forced by fear upon promises, and would be forced upon acts, utterly inconsistent with tho stability of any Oovcrnmen. whatever. In short, the profonndest anxiety and alarm sit at the heart of the educated elasscßof Fiance, of whatever party ; and, not tho least, of those who have undci taken the twful task of ruling her. Of that you may be fully assured. " English Liberals will perhaps say, " This we expected ; but, the people?" Well, I must affirm that, if by " people" they mean the industrious, quiet working classes, the real basis of society, the object of the respect and solicitude of all enlightened rulers, — if they mean these men, the alarm and comtcrnution are greater among tliera than in the higher classes, in proportion to the slendemrss of the resources they have to fall hack upon ; in many cases this amounts to a sort of blank despair. The more clear sighted among them lee the terrible chances that await them ; they •cc capital leaving the country, confidence destroyed, »nd employment suddenly suspended or vrithdiawn, to in extent never seen before. Let me mention a few small but significant facts :— My locksmith told me he had always employed four men ;he has discharged three. An English pastrycook who has constantly employed fifteen journeymen, was about to discharge nearly all. Everybody is turningaway servants, especially men, as the more expensive. I was told that good carriage horses had been sold for 500 froncs each. A vast number of houses arc becoming tenantless j the removal of the English alone would make a visible change in this respect. And what think you are the feelings of all the tribes of water-carriers, washerwomen, and the humble dependents for existence on these houses? Nothing, during the three (lays, seemed to be more affecting and alarming than the sight of these humblest mmistrants to the prime wants of life rushing from door to door, even in the quietest streets, to get their hard labour accomplished in s.ifcty. Our pot teur d'eau was every morning our eaihest informant of the events of the night, and I was shuck with the good sense and clearness of his views- " Ces messieurs parlent d'cgalitc," he said ;< " cstquils vculcnt se faire porteurs d'eau?" '* G'est absurdc — cc sont dcs mensonges." (" These gentlemen talk of equality ; will they turn water cnrrieis? It is absurd — these aio lies.") "11s yon nous raincr tons," (" Ihey aie going to ruin us all." These last words I heaid ficqucnily repeated by persons of the woiking classes. A poor commissioner (poiter), who, for high pay, and through long detours, conveyed a letter for me on the 23rd, came in looking aghast. " Nous voila sans nmilrc." (" Here we arc, without a master"), said ho. "Bon Dicu ! q'est cc que nous allons devenir?" (" Good God! what will become of us?") "Un pays sans maitrc cc nest plus un pays" (" A country without a master is no longer a country); " Nous, allons retomber dans la barbaric." ("We shall F.ill hack nilo barbarism.") This, indeed, whs so soon fell by all th.it masters were appointed. But has that restored the feeling of reverence (or authority, or of confidence in those who wield it, indispensable to civil soeiely ? 1 heard with astonishment English people on the road suyh.g, " Oh, all is quiet now," " All is going on

veiy well now." Fiom no Frenchman have I heard this superliei.-il view of the case. Pans ib indeed quid enough, hut it is the i|iiii'l of exhaustion, fear, distrust, and dejection. The absolute silence of the streets at night was awlul. Utit a few nights before the 22nd I had complained of the incessant i oil ol cairiagcs during this Hcnson of balls. From the night ol the 26th to tlic 3rd ot March the most retired village could not have been more utterly noiseless. Not a carnage-— not a footfall — except at intervals the slridy ami silent stq> of tho patrol ol the National Ouaid, listened for as the* sole guarantee for salety. '' Kvciyman," said agrocti, wealing the unifoim of a guaid, to me in his shop, "must now defend his own. We luvo no piotectiou but ourselves ; no police; no aimy." 'J hat so little violent distuihance to piivatc life occurred in this clementaiy stiifc of society is wh ii can never he admired enough ; but to •'tdmiic the state, or the mcasuies that led to it, is to abdicate all claim to reason. Fiom tho time that the National Guaul felt tint it had to defend what all men have an inieie-it in delending, its evcitions have been almost supei human. A fuend of mine, a gentleman of delicate 1 and icfined habits, had been in a bud once between the 22nd of February and the 2nd ol Maieh. "Les J'ansiens sont sur les dents," said an ollicer of the line, with whom I travelled liom l'.uis to Amiens. Muf how long can this last .' How long aic ilie gentlemen of i'aiis to have to cscoit ciimmals liom the piisoiis to the com l« of justice, oi to do duty .it the doors ol the thoalies I Already, it is to he hoped, some police is oigmi/cd; but how long will it be bcfoie the people will lepose with confidence undei the oidmaiy piotcclion oi the low I The teal deep-sealed and deeply felt calamity is tho increasing disposition ol the Fiench people to icsortto violence for the rcdi ess of their grievances. Thinking men see with alarm tii.it this is becoming the lwuit of tho countiy, or rather ol Paris. The least oideily, the least liuslwoilhy, the least estimable part ol its population, have discovered the secret of their power, and have giovvn confident from lepcatcd success. They aic generally men whom youth, disposition, povcily, and independence of all ties lendei consummately caieless ol life ; they are brave, prompt, and clever. The more! sober and stable pait of society will not move till thu necessity is urgent— that is, till it is too lute. When passions and tenois have subsided, and men. may safely say what they know and think (which nobody can now), the woihl will be nstonishc 1 to leant how insignificant (is foice) wine the beginnings of this mighty movement. A l'Vnchman ol'gieat intelligence, who followed and watched the whole liom fust to list, and who on the Tuesday night assured me it was nothing— a geminerio — i elated to me the whole learlul giowlh of the toirent. The ait'ick on the Government was (as one ofyour conespondents has justly remarked) contemptible enough, but its exticme unpopularity had left it without defence. The National Guard— little dreaming of what was to come— would not turn out to save a Ministry, or even a King, it hated oi despised ; the army will never act without the National (<iiaid ;— that is now asceitained and acknowledged. The Government fell belbio a mob of daring hoys, aided by :i few desperate men. But nothing can he more complete than the mistake of those that think that the people who weio hostile U> the Government and the King, intended the total ovcillnow ol the constitution. l''ven among the aimed ruffians who rushed into the Chinnbei ol Deputies, it was only one voice that called out, on the nomination of the Duchess ot Orleans Regent, " 11 est hop laid." This I hciud fiom a fiiend who was piescnt, and who witnessed the whole of that drc.ullul scene ; where all aulhoiity, all older, all leveicncc, whether for peisons or institutions, for youth or age, Toi rank or woith, for childhood or womanhood — for eveiylhing that has ever claimed the respect, the tenderness, the obedience, or ;''c piety of man, was tiodden in the dul. General — I might almost say universal— as is the conviction in France that the Republic cannot stand, that " les choses nc neuvent pan allcr oimimo ya" (to use the people's expression), nionaichy has been so completely di.igged in the mire, that one cannot hut doubt thu expediency of attempting to revive it, or tho possibility of establishing it on the only solid basis— the icspecl of the people. It lias, it is true, been very unfoitunale in its lepiescntative ; for though pei lection is not to he expected in a king, some ilegiee of elevation and dignity of sentiment — .some ol the qualities of a gentleman, are ; at all events, they are indispensable; and the want of them left Louis Philippe without a friend, and rcidcred bis fall unhonouied and unl.imontcd. Jiut it is cne thing to preserve a venerable building fiom decay and iuin, and another to build it up again when it has been desecrated, polluted, and levelled to the ground. We may well ask, wheic is tho power competent to this task ? I cannot have so little f lith in the good sense of my countrymen as to doubt that they will see how suicidal has been the course taken by a portion of the workmen of Franco. It is impossible that they can believe that manufacturers will continue to pioduce, when there is nobody to buy, or that governments can compel those to consume who have no money to pay with. Hut if. there bo any who are obnoxious to inch gioss delusion, I recommend them to go to Paris ; to walk along the once g<iy, and now gloomy boulevaids ; to look into the deserted shops ; and above all, to see the pale, anxious, unquiet faces in them. Thuic shops, when filled with buyers, repiesented the labour of tens of thousands. What becomes of these when they are> empty 1 " Are you a little more tranquil?" I said to a eremiere, or milkscller, in her little shop, some days aflei the event. " Not much, madam ; •la chose nest pis linie ;'— things cannot go on thus." She spoke tho language ot all Fiance. At Amiens the ppopio openly avowed theii entire dislike to the idea of, a Republic', and declared that they conformed only for the sake of order, and in the confidence that another slate of (lungs mubt nnse — the sentiments, we weio assurod, of neatly all the province. But, be opinions what they may, it is consolatory to nee that there is now but one paitv m France, — that of order and peace. The L<giUmatists, who have so long declined all bhaio in public life, ate acting with admiiable devotion to their country. Theie is also a piodi^ioiib amount of yood feeling and yood sen^u m tln» mass, mingled with the more obvious eitor and vice, and with deploiable and dangerous, ignorance. It is impossible, it would be criminal, io despair of France, lint while we look on her with interest, admiration, and hope, let us not fall into so gioss a blunder as to admiie what all her best sons deplore, or to effect an enthusiasm and >i confidence they aie so far fiom feeling. Let us imitate them j let each, accoiding to his station and ability, try to sustain order, to silence malignant passions, to collect dangerous delusions and false hopes, and losuppoit the coinage of those who have the will, and may have tho powei,to save their countiy and iiutope fiom more ten lfic calamities.