Mrs. Wheedle. Well, what a thing is this!
Mrs. Voluble. Bob, I could beat your brains out!
Bob. Why, Lord, mother, where’s the great harm of saying there’s a cat in the closet?
Jack. The best way is to look.
[Goes toward the closet.
Dabler. Not for the world! I won’t suffer it!
Jack. You won’t suffer it? — Pray, sir, does the cat belong to you?
Bob. Mother, I dare say she’s eating up all the victuals.
Jack. Come then, my lad, you & I’ll hunt her.
Brushes past Dabler, & opens the door.
All. Mrs. Sapient!
Mrs. Sapient. [Coming forward.] Sir, this impertinent curiosity —
Jack. Lord, ma’am, I beg your pardon! I’m sure I would not have opened the door for the world, only we took you for the cat. If you please, ma’am, I’ll shut you in again.
Lady Smatter. That’s a pretty snug retreat you have chosen, Mrs. Sapient.
Censor. To which of the Muses, madam, may that temple be dedicated?
Jack. I hope, ma’am, you made use of your time to mend your furbelows?
Codger. Madam, as I don’t understand this quick way of speaking, I should be much obliged if you would take the trouble to make plain to my comprehension the reason of your choosing to be shut up in that dark closet?
Censor. Doubtless, sir, for the study of the occult sciences.
Lady Smatter. Give me leave, madam, to recommend to your perusal this passage of Addison; Those who conceal themselves to hear the counsels of others, commonly have little reason to be satisfied with what they hear of themselves.
Mrs. Sapient. And give me leave, ma’am, to observe, — though I pretend not to assert it positively, — that, in my opinion, those who speak ill of people in their absence, give no great proof of a sincere friendship.
Censor. [Aside.] I begin to hope these Witlings will demolish their Club.
Dabler. [Aside.] Faith, if they quarrel, I’ll not speak till they part.
Beaufort. Allow me, ladies, with all humility, to mediate, & to entreat that the calm of an evening succeeding a day so agitated with storms, may be enjoyed without allay. Terror, my Cecilia, now ceases to alarm, & sorrow, to oppress us; gratefully let us receive returning happiness, & hope that our example, — should any attend to it, — may inculcate this most useful of all practical precepts: That self-dependence is the first of earthly blessings; since those who rely solely on others for support & protection are not only liable to the common vicissitudes of human life, but exposed to the partial caprices & infirmities of human nature.
Finis.
The Non-Fiction
An engraving of Leicester Fields, c. 1760, today Leicester Square, central London — Burney attended many social events here, including her first masquerade ball on the 10th of January 1770. She wrote about attending the previous week at the house of a fashionable “French Dancing master” in Leicester Fields and “for three months thought of nothing but the Masquerade”.
BRIEF REFLECTIONS RELATIVE TO THE EMIGRANT FRENCH CLERGY
Burney had married her French husband in July 1793; he was an artillery officer who had fled to England in 1791 during the Revolution. The author’s sister was also involved in attempting to assist French immigrants and offer them a place of safety and security. It is perhaps unsurprising then that the author was concerned about the relations between France and England and was somewhat resistant to the increasingly xenophobic and Francophobic discourse prevalent in her homeland. In this 1793 non-fiction work, Burney argues for aid relief for those in need, encouraging rich women of England to help French Catholic priests that she believes are close to starvation. She attempts to persuade people to provide help and funds by developing two contrasting ideas of England and what it represents.
The picture of the nation assisting poor and hungry priests is one with an appeal to a self-regarding and nationalistic form of identity. Burney wishes to promote a notion of England resplendent with female beneficence, which is admired by people far and wide. While there is certainly this element of national myth making involved, the author also to reach beyond nationalism and create a society that views itself as connected and responsible for all people regardless of their birth place, or what language they speak. It is interesting that in her novel The Wanderers, which was released twenty years later, the England she depicts is nothing like her optimistic vision in this earlier work, but is instead an unwelcoming land of prejudice and bigotry.
Burney’s husband, Alexandre d’Arblay (1748-1818)
CONTENTS
APOLOGY.
BRIEF REFLEXIONS RELATIVE TO THE EMIGRANT FRENCH CLERGY.
⁂ The profits of this Publication are to be wholly
appropriated to the Relief of the
EMIGRANT FRENCH CLERGY.
APOLOGY.
However wide from the allotted boundaries and appointed province of Females may be all interference in public matters, even in the agitating season of general calamity; it does not thence follow that they are exempt from all public claims, or mere passive spectatresses of the moral as well as of the political œconomy of human life. The distinct ties of their prescriptive duties, which, pointed out by Nature, have been recognised by reason, and established by custom, remove, indeed, from their view and knowledge all materials for forming public characters. The privacy, therefore, of their lives is the dictate of common sense, stimulated by local discretion. But in the doctrine of morality the reverse is the case, and their feminine deficiencies are there changed into advantages: since the retirement, which divests them of practical skills for public purposes, guards them, at the same time, from the heart-hardening effects of general worldly commerce. It gives them leisure to reflect and to refine, not merely upon the virtues, but the pleasures of benevolence; not only and abstractedly upon that sense of good and evil which is implanted in all, but feelingly, nay awefully, upon the woes they see, yet are spared!
It is here, then, in the cause of tenderness and humanity, they may come forth, without charge of presumption, or forfeiture of delicacy. Exertions here may be universal, without rivality or impropriety; the head may work, the hand may labour; the heart may suggest, indiscriminately in all, in men without disdain, in women without a blush: and however truly of the latter to withdraw from notice may be in general the first praise, in a service such as this, they may with yet more dignity come forward: for it is here that their purest principles, in union with their softest feelings, may blend immediate gratification with the most solemn future hopes. —— And it is here, in full persuasion of sympathy as well as of pardon, that the Author of these lines ventures to offer to her countrywomen a short exhortation in favour of the emigrant French Clergy.
BRIEF REFLEXIONS RELATIVE TO THE EMIGRANT FRENCH CLERGY.
The astonishing period of political history upon which our days have fallen, robs all former times of wonder, wearies expectation, sickens even hope! while the occurrences of every passing minute have such prevalence over our minds, that public affairs assume the interest of private feelings, affect domestic peace, and occupy not merely the most retired part of mankind, but even mothers, wives, and children with solicitude irresistible.
Yet the amazement which has been excited, though stupendous, though terrific, by the general events that in our neighbour kingdom have convulsed all order, and annihilated tranquility, is feeble, is almost null, compared with that produced by the living contrast of virtue and of guilt exhibited in the natives of one and the same country; virtue, the purest and most disinterested, emanating from the first best cause, religion; and guilt, too heinous for any idea to which we have hitherto given definition.
The emigrant French Clergy, who present us with the bright side of this picture, are fast verging to a situation of the most necessitous distress; and, notwithstanding the generous collections repeatedly raised, and the severest œconomy unremittingly exercised in their distribution, if somethi
ng further is not quickly obtained, all that has been done will prove of no avail, and they must soon end their hapless career, not by paying the debt of nature, but by famine.
That the kingdom at large, in its legislative capacity, will ere long take into consideration a more permanent provision for these pious fugitives, there is every reason to infer from the national interest, which has universally been displayed in their cause. To preserve them in the mean time is the object of present application.
So much has already so bountifully been bestowed in large donations, that it seems wanting in modesty, if not in equity, to make further immediate demands upon heads of houses, and masters of families.
Which way, then, may these destitute wanderers turn for help? To their own country they cannot go back; it is still in the same state of lawless iniquity which drove them from it, still under the tyrannic sway of the sanguinary despots of the Convention.
What then remains? Must their dreadful hardships, their meek endurance, their violated rights, terminate in the death of hunger?
No! there is yet a resource; a resource against which neither modesty nor equity plead; a resource which, on the contrary, has every moral propensity, every divine obligation, in its favour: this resource is Female Beneficence.
Already a considerable number of Ladies have stept forward for this Christian purpose. Their plan has been printed and dispersed. It speaks equally to the heart and to the understanding; it points out wretchedness which we cannot dispute, and methods for relief of which we cannot deny the feasibility.
The Ladies who have instituted this scheme desire not to be named; and those who are the principal agents for putting it in execution, join in the same wish. Such delicacy is too respectable to be opposed, and ostentation is unnecessary to promulgate what modest silence may recommend to higher purposes. There are other records than those of newspapers, and lists of subscribers; records in which to see one fair action, one virtuous exertion, one self-denying sacrifice entered, may bring to its author, that peace which the world cannot give, and a joy more refined than even the praise of the worthy.
Such names, nevertheless, will ultimately be sought, for what now is benevolence will in future become honour; and female tradition will not fail to hand down to posterity the formers and protectresses of a plan which, if successful, will exalt for ever the female annals of Great Britain.
The minutest scrutinizer into the rights of charity cannot here start one objection that a little consideration will not supersede. No votaries of pleasure, ruined by extravagance and luxury, forfeit pity in censure by imploring your assistance; no slaves of idleness, no dupes of ambition, invite reproof for neglected concerns in soliciting your liberality. The objects of this petition are reduced, indeed, from affluence to penury, but the change has been wrought through the exaltation of their souls, not through the depravity of their conduct. Whatever may be their calls upon our tenderness, their claims, to every thinking mind, are still higher to our admiration. Driven from house and home, despoiled of dignities and honours, abandoned to the seas for mercy, to chance for support, many old, some infirm, all impoverished? with mental strength alone allowed them for coping with such an aggregate of evil! Weigh, weigh but a moment their merits and their sufferings, and what will not be sooner renounced than the gratification of serving so much excellence. It is to itself the liberal heart does justice in doing justice to the oppressed; they are its own happiest feelings which it nourishes, in nourishing the unfortunate.
By addressing myself to females, I am far from inferring that charity is exclusively their praise; no, it is a virtue as manly as it is gentle; it is christian, in one word, and ought therefore to be universal. But the pressure of present need is so urgent, that the ladies who patronize this plan are content to spread it amongst their own sex, whose contributions, though smaller, may more conveniently be sudden, and whose demands for wealth being less serious, may render those contributions more general.
Nor are the misfortunes we would now mitigate so foreign to our “business and bosoms” as we may lightly suppose: all Europe is involved by the circumstances which occasioned them, and with indignation as strong, though with sensations less acute, has watched their wonderful progress.
Whatever by unbelievers may be urged in defence of what they style the religion of nature, its inefficacy, even for the exclusive purposes of morality, is now surely exposed beyond all theory or controversy: and the religion of God has received a testimony as clear of its moral influence, by the atrocious acts of the Convention since it has been cast aside, as of its divine, in the voluntary sacrifices offered up at its shrine by those who still adhere to its holy doctrines.
And shall we, with our arms, our treasures, our dearest blood, resist the authors of these wrongs, yet forbear to protect their victims?
All ages have furnished examples of individuals who have been distinguished from their contemporaries by actions of Heroism: but to find a similar instance of a whole body of men, thus repelling every allurement of protection and preferment, of home, country, friends, fortune, possessions, for the still calls of piety, and private dictates of conscience, precedent may be defied, and the annals of virtue explored in vain.
Shall we deem it a misfortune to be burthened with beings such as these? No; let us, more justly, conclude it a blessing. Prosperity is apt to be forgetful, to confound what it possesses with what it deserves; but the claims we here feel to give, awaken us to remember the abundance we have received.
Thankfully, and not disdainfully, let us bow down to an admonition thus mildly instilled through the medium of borrowed experience. What a contrast to the terrible lesson given to the distracted country which offers it! where both crimes and afflictions are of such enormous magnitude, as to engross the whole civilized earth between resentment and compassion!
Already we look back on the past as on a dream, too wild in its horrors, too unnatural in its cruelties, too abrupt in its succession of terrors, even for the exaggerating pencil of the most eccentric and gloomy imagination; surpassing whatever has been heard, read, or thought; and admitting no similitude but to the feverish visions of delirium! so marvellous in fertility of incident, so improbable in excess of calamity, so monstrous in impunity of guilt! the witches of Shakespeare are less wanton in absurdity, and the demons of Milton less horrible in denunciations.
Of the present nothing can be said but, what is it? — It is gone while I write the question.
The future — the consequences — what judgment can pervade? The scenery is so dark, we fear to look forward. Experience offers no direction, observation no clue; the mystery is as impervious, the obscurity as tremendous, as that we would vainly penetrate for our destinies in the world to come. Ah! might the veil but drop to clearness as refulgent!
Let us not, however, destroy the rectitude of our horror of these enormities, by mingling it with implacable prejudice; nor condemn the oppressed with the oppressor, the slaughtered with the assassin. Are we not all the creatures of one Creator? Does not the same sun give us warmth? And will not the days of the years of our pilgrimage be as short as theirs? It is an offence to Religion, an injury to Providence, to suppose That vast tract of land wholly seized by evil spirits; though licentiousness, rapacity, ambition, and irreligion have given rulers to it, of late, abhorrent to all humanity.
We are too apt to consider ourselves rather as a distinct race of beings, than as merely the emulous inhabitants of rival states; but ere our detestation leads to the indiscriminate proscription of a whole people, let us look at the Emigrant French Clergy, and ask where is the Englishman, where, indeed, the human being, in whom a sense of right can more disinterestedly have been demonstrated, or more nobly predominate? O let us be brethren with the good, wheresoever they may arise! and let us resist the culpable, whether abroad or at home.
The world, in all its varied stores of good, contains nothing that can vie with Philanthropy — that soft milk of human kindness, that benign spirit o
f social harmony, that genuine emblem of practical Religion! seeking some extenuation from goodness even amongst the fallen, accepting some apology from temptation even amongst the sinful; lenient in its judgments, conciliating in its awards, forgiving in its wrath! and receiving in bosom-serenity all the solace it humanely expands.
But while to the individual we talk of alms, and plead distress, sickness, infirmity; to the community we may be bolder, juster, firmer, and talk of duties.
Flourishing and happy ourselves, shall we see cast upon our coasts virtue we scarce thought mortal, sufferers whose story we could not read without tears, martyrs that remind us of other days — and let them perish? Behold age unhonoured, disease unattended, strangers unfed? and not till they are no more, till the compassionating hand of Death has closed their miseries, learn to do them justice? then, when we can only lament, — not now, when we may also succour? Is it to that period we must wait to enquire, to exclaim “How came they to this pass?”
Anticipate the answer, anticipate the historians of times to come: will they not say, “These holy men, who died for want of bread, were Priests of the Christian Religion. They had committed no sin, they had offended against no law: they refused to take an oath which their consciences disapproved; their piety banished them from their country; and the land in which they sought refuge received, admired, relieved — neglected, forgot, and finally permitted them to starve!
“And what was this land? some wild, uncultivated spot, where yet no arts had flourished, no civilization been spread, no benefits reciprocated? no religion known? Where novelty was the only passport, and where kindness was the short-lived offspring of curiosity? Unhappy men! to have struck on such inhospitable shores, amidst a race so unapprized of all social, all relative ties, as to confer favours only where they may be expected in return, unconscious, or unreflecting that every unoffending man is a brother!
Complete Works of Frances Burney Page 370