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/

M EM O I R S

OF T H YEAR

TWO THOUSAND
FIVE HUNDRED.

Le Terns prefent eft gros de 1*Avenir..

Leibnitz,

Tncflated from the French

% W. HOOPER, M. D.

IN. TWO VOLUMES.

V. O L. R.

L O N D O N,
\

Piinted forG, Robinson, in Pater-nofter-Row.

T.

MDCCLXXII^ .

iV'-'
 ADVERTISEMENT.
T he tide of this work in the original Is
The Ypr Two Thoufand Four Hun¬
dred and Forty ; but aS'there appears no reafoir
for fixing it to any particular year, we have,
for the fake of a round number, called it The
Year Two Thoufand Five Hundred. Irmay
be proper to add, that this is the only altera¬
tion made by the tranflator. Though the fcenc
of this narrative lies in Paris, yet the refleftions
in general may be applied, by changing the
names of places and perfons, to almoft all the
capital cities of Europe. Who the author of
this work is, we will not pretend to determine;
perhaps the reader will be fatisfied with finding
that he is a man of fenfe, of tafte, and learning,
of a lively imagination, a ftrong fpirit of li¬
berty, and, what is worth them all, a warm
benevolence of heart.

The notes in Italics are hy-the tran/ktor.

E R, R A T A.
Page 14. line 1. for nvill rt^Ayou 5 line 2. after you read *
m)iIL Page 89. line 2. zitQthead read and. Page 104. line
12. (ov prelates read prelate. Page 119. note, line 4. for an
God read that God, Page 120. line 15. {or befices vtzA benetr
fees. Page 148. I ine 5. for tkdr read the. Page 213. line
ior your read cur.
 CONTENTS
IntroduSiion — — — P.
Chap.I. RejieSl'tons on Parisy by an old Eng-
itjhman — — _
ir.1 am fsven hundred and f.xty years
—! — —
II r.
/ purchafe a fuh of ready-made'cloaths
*5
20
IV. The Porters of Paris •— ^4
V. The Carriages — _ _ 27
VI. The embroidered Hat — _ 32 ^
VII. The Bridge re- baptifed — _ 36
VIIL The new Paris — _ __
39
IX. The Petitiom — — _
54-
X. The Man with a Adajk — —
XI. The New Tejlaments — -—
63
XII. The College of ^atre Nations — 67
XIII. Where is the Sorbonne — 78
XIV. The Hofpital for Inoculation — 8s-
XV. Theology and Jurifprudence ' — 87
XVI. Execution of a Criminal — _
97
XVII. Not fo far off as we thought — 136
XVIII. The Minifters of Peace — 123
XIX. The Temple — —. _ iSr
XX. The Prelate — — — 149
XXL The Communion of the two Infinites 152
XXII. A remarkable Monument — 166
XXIII. The Breads the Wine^ — J73
XXIV. The Prince a Publiccn <— t88
XXV. The Theatre — —
^93
XXVI. The Lamps — ~ — 205-
XXVII. A Funeral — — 211
An Eclipfe of the Moon - — 216

EPISTLE
/

EPISTLE DEDICATORY

TO THE YEAR

TwoThoufand Five Hundred.

A ugust and venerable Year!

thou who art to bring felicity
upon the earth! thou, alas! that I
have only in a dream beheld, when
thou (halt rife from out the bofom of
eternity, thy fun Ihall enlighten them
who will tread upon my afhes, and
upon thofe of thirty generations, fuc-
ceflively cut off, and plunged in the
profound abyfs of death. The kings
that now fit upon the throne fliall be
no more their pofterity fliall be no
more. Then flialt thou judge the de¬
parted monarch, and the writer who
lived in fubjedtion to his power. The
names of the friends, the defenders of
humanity, fliall live and be honoured,
VoL. I, a . ' their

■pf^. '
 vi EPISTLE DEDICATORY,
their glory fliall be pure and radiant;
but that vile herd of kings, who have
been, in every fenfe, the tormentors of
mankind, ftill more deeply plunged
in oblivion than in the regions of death,
can only efcape from infamy by the fa¬
vour of inanity.

The thought furvives the man, and

forms his molt glorious pofleffion; the
thought rifes from his tomb, alTumes
an immutable body, becomes immor¬
tal. While the thunders of defpotifm
fall and vanilh, the pen of the writer,
.bounding over the interval of time, ab-
folves or punifhes the mailers of the
univerfe.

I HAVE exercifed that authority which

nature gave me ; I have cited before
my folitary reafon the laws, the cuf-
toms, and abufes of the country in
which I have lived obfcure and un¬
known. I have felt that virtuous hatred
which
 EPISTLE DEDICATORY, vii
’which is due to oppreflion from a being
of humanity ; I have detefted, purfued
with infamy, to the utmoft of my
power, oppofed all tyranny. But, alas!
Auguft and Venerable Year, perhaps
to little piirpofe, when contemplating
thee, have I animated, exalted my
■s

ideas ; they may appear in thy eyes

the mere conceptions of fervitude.
Forgive me*, tjie genius of my age
furrounds and oppreffes me. Stupidity
now reigns *, the tranquility of my
country refembles that of the grave. I
fee nought around me but coloured
carcafes, who move and talk, but in
whom the a6live principle of life has
never produced the leaft emotion.
Even now, the voice of philofophy,
wearied and dejedted, cries in the midft
mankind as in the center of a boundlefs
defert.

Oh! could I but divide the term of

my exiftence, with what pleafure would
2
 /

viii EPISTLE DEDICATORY.

I inftantly defcend to_ the grave !

with what joy fhould I part from the
gloomy, wretched afpefls of my co-
temporaries, to awake in the midft of
thofe fair days that thou lhalt bring
forth; that blifsful period, when man
lhall have regained his courage, his
liberty, his independence, and his vir¬
tue! How happy, could 1 but behold
thee otherwife than in a dream !
Halle I thou age fo defirefJ, thou ob-
jefl of my earneft wilhes ! Come,
and pour down happinefs upon the
earth ! But what do I fay ? Deli¬
vered from the illufions of a pleafing
dream, I fear, alas ! I fear, that thy
fun is more like to call a gloomy
light on a formlefs mafs of afhes, and
of ruins.

C ON-‘
 memoirs
OF THE YEAR

TwoThoufand Five Hundred.

•ococooocoooooooeooocooocooooooocooocooccooocooooooocooocoocooooooeocoooociOooooo

INTRODUCTION.

T H at all fhould be well is the wifli of

the philofopher. By that term, which
I

doubtlefs has been abufed, I mean that faga-

' cious and virtuous being, who defires the ge¬
neral happinefs, in confequence of thofe de-
terminate ideas of order and harmony that he
entertains. Evil is difgufting to the fight of
the wife man; lie therefore declaims againft it:
he is accufed of ill-nature; but wrongfully:
he knows that evil abounds on the earth ; but,
at the fame time, he has conflantly prefent to
his mind that beautiful and fti iking perfection,
which might, and which ought to refult from
the conduct of a rational being.

VuL.I. B
2 INTRODUCTION.
In cfFedI, what fliould prevent us from hop¬
ing, that, after running round the wide-ex-
tended circle of their follies, guided by their
paffionSj men, jaded and difgufted, may not
return to the pure lights, of reafon ? Why may
not the human race refemble an individual ?
Touchy, hafly, thoughtlefs, in youth; gentle,
patient, prudent, in age(<^). The man who
argues thus impofes on himfelf the duty of
being juft.
*

But do we know what is perfeclion ? Can

it appertain to a weak and limited being ? Is
it not that great fecret hid from us by the
prefent life? Muft we not put off mortality
ere we can comprehend that fublime enigma?

In the mean time, let us endeavour to ren¬

der this life tolerable ; or, if that be too much,

{a) Was this world created merely for that fmall num¬
ber of men who row inhabit the furface of the earth?
What are all the beings that ever exifted, in comparifon
of ihofe that God can create? Other generations will
behold the fame fun occupy the place we now polTefs, and
pufh us fo far back into antiquity, that there (hall not
remain of us either footflcps or remembrance.

let
 INTRODUCTION. 3

let us at lead dream that it is fo. For me,

concentered with Plato, I dream like him. O
my dear countrymen, whom I have fo often
heard groan under that load of abufes, of which
we are wearied v/ith complaining, when will
our dreams be realifed ? Let us then fleep on i
for in that muft we place our felicity.

B 2 CHAT.
 m

( 4 )

C H* A P. 1.

ReJIeSIlons on Paris by an old Engltflmian^

T hou troublefome friend, why didft

tkou wake me? Ah ! what injury haft
thou done me ! Thou haft fnatched me from a
dream, whofe fweet illufions were to me more
defireable than the importunate light of truth.
How pleafmg was the deceit! Would that I
were plunged in it for the remaindej: of my
days! But, alas ! I am again furrounded by
that frightful chaos from which I thought
myfelf delivered. Sit down, and liften to
me, while my mind is yet filled with the
obje£ts by which it was but now,enrapt.
/

Late lafl night, I converfed with that old

Eriglifhman, whofe foul is fo free. You know
that I love the man truly Englifli ; we no
where find better friends; among no other
people do we meet with men of a charadfer
fo ftedfaft and fo generous; that fpirit of liberty
with which they are animated gives them a
degree
 Reflexions on Paris, 5,
degree of force and conftancy rarely to be met
with among other nations.

Your nation, he faid, is filled with abufes

dramie as multifarious ; they are neither to
be numbered or conceived; the mind is there
loll. Nothing is to me fo furprifing as that re-
pofe, that apparent calm, which broods over the
horrid jars of fo many inteftine troubles. Youf
capital is an incredible compound (^2); the hi¬
deous monfter is the receptacle of extreme opu¬
lence and exceffive mifery ; - their conteft is
eternal. How amazing that this devouring
body, w'hich is confurning in every part, can
fubfift in its horrid inequality {b),

{a) The whole kingdom is in Paris. France refem-

bles a ricketty child, whofe juices feem only to increafe
and nourish the head, while the body remains weak and
emaciated. This fort of children have frequently more
wit than others j but they are generally Ihort lived.

(^) The manner in which it exifts is ftill more aftonifh-

ing; It is not uncommon to fee a man, who cannot live
upon orie hundred thoufand livres •f* a year, borrow mo¬
ney of another, w’ho lives at his eafe on a hundredth part
of the money.
■p ^he livre is equal to ten pence half penny ^ consequently the
French croivn of fx li’vres is equal to fiue fillings and three¬
pence, andthe huis-d'er of mentj four livres equal to our guinea,

B 3 In
6 RejleShons on Paris,

In your kingdom, all things are made fub-

fci vieiit to the capital; cities, nay, whole pro¬
vinces, are facrificed to it. Alas ! what is it
but a diamond in the midfl of a dunghill ! what
all inconceivable jumble of fenfe and flupidity,
of genius and folly, of grandeur and bafenefs!
I left England with precipitation ; I fiew with
iiO|^es of arriving at that bright center, where
men, by uniting their mutual talents, had efta-
b)ifiled the throne of all the pleafures, fur-
rounded by eafe and complacency. But, hea¬
vens! how cruelly were my hopes deftroyed !
On this fpot, where all things abound, I behold
wretches perifhing for want; in the midft of fo
many fagacious laws, a thoufand crimes are
committed ; among fo many regulations of the
police, all is diforder; nothing to be feen but
fhackles, embarraffments, and pradices con¬
trary to the public good.

The throngs of people are every moment in

danger of being crufhed by the innumerable
quantity of carriages, in which are borne at
their eafe thofe who are infinitely lefs valuable
than they whom they fplafh and threaten to de-
ftroy. I tremble when I hear the precipitate
tread
 V Reflexions on Paris, 7
tread of horfes in the midfl of a crowd of the
aged and infirm, of children, and teeming
women. In reality, nothing is more infulting
to human nature than that cruel indltference,
with which they regard the dangers that each
moment produces

Your affairs compel you to frequent a quar¬

ter of the town, where there exhales a foetid
and mortal vapour ; thoufands of mankind a^e
forced to breathe that poifoned air(Z'). Your
churches afford more occafion for fcandal than
inn;ru61:ion ; they are made the.high road for
paflengers, and fometimes fomething worfe ;

(^) Ye original inhabitants of the earth, could you

have thought that a city would ever exift, where they
fhould, without concern, drive over the unfortunate paf-
fengers at fo much per leg and per arm !

(^) The cemetery of the church called the Innocents

ferves twenty-two paiilhes j they have interred the dead
there for a thoufand years paid. A place for this purpofe
fhould furely have been chofen without the walls j on
the contrary, it is placed in the center of the city j and
left it ftiould not be fufficiently frequented, as it Ihould
feem, they have furcounded it with (hops. It is a grave
always open, always filling, always empty. Our delicate
ladies there walk over the mouldering bones of millions of
their forefathers to purchafe pompons and other bawbles.

B 4 you
 W>

8 R^fledilons on Parh.

you are not fufTered to feat yourfelf there but

by virtue of money ; a (hameful monopoly in
a facred place, where all men, when in the
prefence of the Supreme Being, Biould fureUr
be regarded as equals.

"When you would copy after tlie Greeks

and Iiomans, you have not even the ability to
fupport their manner, which was pure and
noble ; you disfigure it, you deflroy it, by a
puerile longing after what you call pretty.
You have fome dramas that are mafter-pieces ;
but, if on reading them, I find a defire to
fee them reprefented, 1 no longer know them.
You have three fmall, dark, and dirty thea¬
tres (<?); in one you are, at a great expence,
magnificently dunned, while you gspingly ad¬
mire a heap of ridiculous machinery; in an¬
other, you are forced to laugh, when ^^ou
fliould weep 5 nature is never confuked; and
befides that -your tragic a^ors are beneath all
criticifm, you there find fome impertinent

{a) T^he French and Italian comedies^ or iheatreSy and the

opera. I'be epithets here ufed are applicable enough to the t%vo
comedies; but Jurelp the opera rather merits thofe of grand and
elegant^

* ; com-
 Rejle5liom on Paris. 9
companion, who is alone fuflicient to banifli
the moft perfect illufion; with regard to the
third, they are a fet of buffoons, who fometimes
quaver the drolleries of Momus, and fometimes
diriek an infipid air. 1 prefer thefe, however,
to your dull French comedians, bccaufe they
are more natural, and confcquently more pleaf-
ing ; .and becaufe they afford the public rather
more entertainment (^). But I muff confefs at
the fame time, that a man ought to have an
uncommon fliare of leifure, to amufe himfelf
with the wretched trifles they exhibit.

It affe^ls me with an indignant pity, to fee

,fuch people as thefe, who are fupported by a
fort of contribution from each fpe6lator, im¬
pudently crowd their judges together in a
fciinty pit, where, continually on their feat,
and preffmg againft each other, they fuffer a
thoufand tortures ,j and where they are not per-

{a) There is an effential difference between the French

and Italian comedians 5 the firft are fully perfuaded that
they are perfons ofmerir, and in confequence are infolent j
the fecond are directed enUrely by mercenary motives ;
the one, from felf conceit, fhew a want of due refpedl
for the public j the others flrive to plcafe it from a prin- ,
crple of avarice.
B 5 mi t ted
10 on Vqtu,

mitted to complain, though on the point of

being fuffocated(^), A people who, even in
their entertainments, can endure fo troublefome
a fervitude, fliovv to what degree of davery they
may be reduced, Phus, all thofe pleafures
boafted of at a diftance are, on^ a near ap¬
proach, but troubles ; and we muft walk over
the heads of the multitude, if we would
breathe at our eafe.

As I don t find myfelf endowed with that

haibarous courage, adieu ; I fliall be gone.
You may boaft of your fine buildings that are
fahing into ruins; fliow with admiration your
Louvre, whofe afpecf docs you more dif^race
than honour, efpecially when furrounded by fo
many gawdy bawbles, which cofl you more to
fupport, than it did to eredl your public ^iO-
iiiiments.

fa) Inhere are no feats in the pit at any of the French thea-
ires 5 and as tbofe that are behind are continually endeavouring
to get forHvardy and thofe before endeavour to keep their fation^
they are tn confant agitation^ not much unlike the mob at a
lord mayoF s Jho%u: to mend the matter, there are fix of the
king's guards pofed in the pity three on each fide j and if any
one offers to cry outy one of the guards, if it be his voill and
fleajure, takes him immediately into cuftody.

But
 Rejl'e^liom on Paris^ II

But all this is yet nothing. If I fliould

dwell on the horrible difproportion of fortunes ;
if I fhould explain the fecret caufes from
whence it proceeds ; if I were to defcribe your
manners, without tender and polite, within
haughty and cruel if I fhould paint the
indigence
o
of the unfortunate, and the impofu-
bility of redrefs, while they preferve their pro¬
bity; if I fliould enumerate the riches a bad
man has acquired, and the degrees of refpect
that is diown him, in proportion as he becomes
more depraved (^b) ;—this would take up too
much time. Good night. To-morrow will I
leave you ; I fay, to-morrow ^ for I can no

(a) If we except the financiers, who are in general cruel

and unpoUte, the reft of the rich have but one of thofe two
faults j they either politely fuffer )OU to die of hunger, o*
they roughly give you feme relief,

[b] Formerly, though they did rot afiift the virtuous

man, they, however, efteemed him. It is now no longer
fo. I remember the reply of a princefs to her intendant :
his wages were fix hundred livres, and he complained that
he was not fufficiently paid. How then did )our predecef-
for manage ? faid the princefs; he was but ten years in
my fervice, and retired with an eftate of twenty thoufand ^
livres a year. Madam, he robbed you, replied the inteh-
dant. Very well, fays the princefs, then do you rob me
too,
B 6 longer
 12 ReJle5flons on Paris,

longer live In a city fo full of mifery, and that

has fo many opportunities of preventing it.

I AM difgufled with Paris as with London.

All great cities refemble each other. Roufleau
has very well faid, ‘Mt feems as if the more
laws men make for their happinefs, when
united in one body, the more depraved they
become, and the more they augment the
fum of their miferies/’ One would, how’-
ever, rcafonably imagine the contrary ; but toa
many are interefted in oppofing the general
good. I will fearch out fome village, v/here- in
a pure air, with tranquil pleafures, I may de¬
plore the lot of the wretched inhabitants of thofe
fafluous prifons they call cities (<?).

It was to little purpofe that I reminded him

of the old proverb, ‘ Paris was not built in a
daythat all was now perfection in compari-
fon of pall ages. Perhaps, a few years hence,
I faid, there will be nothing left for you to de-

{a) Amidft the torrent of modes, projects, and amufe-

m^nts, of which one deftroys the other, and none lafis,
the minds of the great are loft, depiived of enjoyment,'and
become as incapable of perceiving the great and beautiful,
as they aic of producing it»
fi r e j
 AeJieSitons on Paris, 13

fire ; if they fliall accomplilli, in their full ex- ^

tent, the different projects that have been pro-
pofed. Ah ! he replied, there is the foible of
your nation*; proje^fs forever ! And can you
regard them ? You are a Frenchman, my
friend ; and with all your good fenfe you have
an attachment to the foil. But, be it fo; when
all thofe projecfls arc accomplifhed, I wiilcome
again to fee you ; till then will I find another
dwelling-place ; I like not to inhabit amidft fo
many unhappy and difeontented mortals, whofe
very fuffering looks pierce my heart {a),

I KNOW that it would be eafy to remedy the

mofi: preffing evils; but, believe me, they will
never be remedied ; the means are too fimple
to be regarded. I am convinced that they will
avoid them ; I am convinced alfo, that they
will repeat amongfl: you the facred word Hu¬
manity, with much affedlation, only to avoid
performing the duties it implies (/»). It is a
long

[a) There is no one eflablifhment in France that does

not tend to the detriment of the nation.
[b] Accurfed be the writer who flatters the age in which
he lives, and helps to deceive it j who lulls it with the hif-
tory of its ancient heroes, and virtues that are no more 5
pal-
/
14 Refie^iions on Paris*

long time fince will erred through ignorance,

and therefore you never reform. Adieu,

palliates the evils that undermine and devour it ; and,

like a fubtle mountebank, talks of its florid complexion,
while the gangrene is preying upon its members. The
writer of fortitude will never avail himfelf of thefe dan¬
gerous deceits. He cries, O my countrymen, you by no
means refemble yourfathersj you are polite and cruel j
you have only the appearance of humanity j bafe and faith-
lefs, you have not even the courage to commit great
crimes j yours are all mean and daftardly, like ycurfelves.

CHAP.
 'P

( 15 )

CHAP. ir.
1 am feven hundred and ftxty years old.

I T was midnight when my old Englifhman

left me. I began to be weary ; 1 faftened
my door, and retired to reft. When I had
clofed my eye-lids, I dreamt that ages had
pafted fince I laid down to reft, and that I was
awake(<^). I rofe, and found a weight opprefs
me to which I was not accuftomed ^ my hands
trembled, and my feet ftumbled ; v/hen I look¬
ed in the glafs, I could fcarce recoiled my
vifage ; I went to bed with black hair and a
florid complexion ; but when I rofe, my fore¬
head was furrowed with wrinkles, and my hair
was white ; 1 faw two prominent bones under
my eyes and a long nofe ^ a colour pale and
wan was fpread overall my countenance ; when
I attempted to walk, I was forced to fupport
rnyfelfby my cane j I did not find, however,

{a) When the mind is much affe<fled with any obje<fh,

it readily returns in fleep. There are aaonifhing circum-
ftances attending dreams. This, as will appear by the fe-
quel, is not very extravagant,
16 1 am [even hundred and fixiy years old»

that I had any ill-nature, the too common

companion of old age.
i

As I went out, I faw a public place, which to

me was unknown ; they had juft erected a py-
ramidial column, which attradfed the regard of
the curious. I advanced towards it, and read
diftindlly, The year of grace MMD. ; the cha-
radfers were engraved on marble, in letters of
gold. At firff, I imagined that my eyes deceived
me, or rather, that it was an error of the artilb’s ;
but 1 had fcarce made the refledtion, when the
furprize became flill greater \ for, diredling my
looks towards t'wo or three edidls of the fove-
reign fixed to the wall, which I have always
been curious to read, I faw the fame date,
MMD. fairly printed on all of them. Ha! I
faid to myfelf, I am then become old indeed,
without perceiving it. What! havelflept feven
hundred and thirty-two years (^)?

All things were changed ; all thofe places

that were fo well known to me prefented a
different face, and appeared to be recently em-
belliflied ; I loft myfelf amidft grand and beau-

(ij) This work was begun in 1768,

tiful
 / am feven hundred andfixiy years old. 17
A>

tiful ftreets, that were built in ftrait lines ; I

entered a fpacious fquare, formed by the ter¬
minations of four ftreets, where there reigned
fuch perfe(ff order, that I found not the lead
embarrafiinent, nor heard any of thofe confufed
and whimfical cries that formerly rent my
ears \ I faw no carriages ready to crudi me ;
the gouty might have walked there common
dioufly ; the city had an animated afpect, but
without trouble or confufion.

I WAS fo amazed, that I did not at firdob*

ferve the padengers dop and regard me from
head to foot with the utmod adonifhment.
They {drugged the fhoulder and fmiled, as we
life to do, when we meet a mafk ; in fa^t, my
edrefs might well appear original and grotefque,
when compared with theirs.
* I
- >

A CITIZEN (whom I after found to be a

man of learning) approached me, and faid po¬
litely, but with a fixed gravity, “ Good old
man, to what purpofe is this difguife ? Do
you intend to remind us of the ridiculous
cudoms of a whimfical age ? We have no
‘inclination to imitate them. Lay afide this idle
frolick.:^
 18 lam [even hundred and fixiy yean old,

frolick.’* What mean you ? I replied ; I am

not difgulfed; I wear the fame drefs that I
wore yefterday ; it is your columns and your
edicts that counterfeit. You feem to acknow¬
ledge another fovereign than Lewis the XV,
1 know not what is your defign j but I efleem
it dangerous ; and fo I tell you : mafquerades
of this fort are not to be countenanced ; men
muft not carry their folly to fuch extent.
You are, however, very free impoftors; for
you cannot imagine that any thing can convince
a man againfl the evidence of his own mind.

Whether he thought that I was deli¬

rious, or that my great age made me dote, or
whatever other fufpicion he might have, he
afked me in what year I was born. In 1740,
I replied.—Indeed ! why then you are feven
hundred and fixty years of age. We fhould
be aflonidied at nothing/* he faid to the crowd
that furrounded me ; Enoch and Elias are
not yet dead^; Mathufalem and fome others
have lived nine hundred years; Nicolas Fla-
mel traverfes the earth like a wandering Jew ;
and perhaps this gentleman has found the
immortal elixir, or the philofopher's (tone,”
On

■i'
/

/ am feven hundred and fixty years old, 19

On pronouncing the lafl; words he fmiled;

and every one prefled toward me with a very
particular complacency and refpecl:. They
feemed all eager to interrogate me ; but dif-
cretion held them mute ; they contented them-
felves with faying, in a low voice, “ A man of
the age of Lewis XV. Oh ! what a curiofity
 ( 20 )

CHAP. III.

I pur chafe a fuit of ready-made cloaths,

I Began to be anxious for my fafety.

man of letters faid to me, ‘‘ I fee you are
The

confounded, and therefore willingly offer to he

your guide. But let us begin, I entreat you,
by entering the firfi: cloth-fhop we fhall come
to 5 for/’ he frankly added, I cannot be
your companion, if you are not decently
dreffed.

You muft allow, for example, that, in a

well-regulated city, where the government for¬
bids all duels, and anfwers for the life of every
individual, it is ufelefs, not to fay indecent, to
wear a murdering weapon by your fide, to put a
fword on, when you go to pray to God, or to
vifit the ladies or your friends. A foldier can
do no more in a town that is befieged(^7). In
your age, there were ftill fome remains of the

(^) Jn PariSf C'very r>:an nvho is not a fern/antf or in tradcf

•wears a fword, if be can fnd money to purchafe one, which be
ma^do there for a few fhillings.
Gothic
 I .purchafe new deaths. 21
Gothic chivalry ; it was a mark of honour to
wear at all limes an ofFenfive weapon • and I
have read, in an author of your days, that an
old man would parade with a fword that he
could no longer ufe.

How girding and troublefome is your

drefs ; your Ihoulders and arms are imprifoned;
your body is preffed together; your bread: is
con drained, you can fcarce breathe; and, why,
1 befeech you, do you expofe your legs and
thighs to the inclemency of the feafons ? Each
age produces new modes; but either I am much
deceived, or our drefs is both agreeable and fa-
lutary. Obferve it.”

In facf, the manner in which he was drelTed,

though new to me, had nothing in it difguftfuL
Elis hat [a) had not the dark and gloomy co¬
lour, nor the troublcfom.e corners of ours; there
remained nothing but the cap, or body of the
hat, Avhich was furrounded by a fort of cape,

(a) If I were to write a hiftory of France, I fhould pay

a particular regard to the chapter of hats. This little fub-
je^I, treated with care, would be curious and interefting,
I would contrail the Englifh and French j and Ihow, that
when the former wore a large, the latter wore a fmall hat,
and the reverfe, • '
that
2,2 I pur chafe new cbaths,
that rolled up, or was extended, as the feafon
required.

His hair, neatly combed, formed a knot be¬

hind his head, and a flight tinge of powder left
the natural colour vifible (^). Far diftantfrom
the plaiftered pyramid of feented pomatum ; or
thofe flaring wings, that give a frightful afpe6l
to the wearer ; or thofe immoveable buckles,
that deftroy the grace of the flowing curls. His
neck was not tightly bound with muflin(Z>);
but furrounded with a cravat more or lefs warm,
according to the feafon. His arms enjoyed
their full liberty in fleeves moderately large ;
and his body, neatly inclofed in a fort of veft,
was covered with a cloak, in form of a gown,
falutary in the cold and rainy feafons.

Round his waift he wore a long fafh that

had a graceful look, and preferved an equal

(^z) There are at prefent three or four hundred methods

of drefling the hair of a man of fafhion, O, how profound
are the arts ! Who can pretend to purfue them through all
their details !
{b) The neck-pieces that are now worn are of more fer-
vicethan the fuperficial obferver may imagine. The town
air, high living, and other matters, make us look pale.
Now, thofe necks, by driving the blood up into the face,
reftore us to a natural compltxion,
6 warmth.
 1 purchafe new cloathu _ 23

warmth. He had none of thofe garters that

bind the hams and reftrain the circulation. He
wore a long (locking, that reached from the
foot to the waift ; and an eafy (lioe, in form of a
bufkin, inclofed his foot.

He carried me into a (hop, where I was to

change my drefs : I fat down in a' chair; but it
was not one of thofe that are hard (luffed, and
fatigue inflead of refrelhing ; it was a fort of
fmall alcove, lined with mat, and turned on a
pivot, according to the dire£lion of the body.
I could fcarce think that I was in a tradefman’s
fhop ; for it was quite light, and I heard no
prating about honour and confcience.

C H A P.

I
i I

( 24 )

CHAP. IV.

The For ten of Paris (a).

M y guide became every moment more fa¬

miliar : he agreed for the price of my
new drefs, which came to a louis-d’or. When I
gave it the fhop-keeper, he promifed to keep it
as an antiquity. They paid ready money at
every (hop j for thofe people, lovers of a feru-
pulous probity, know not the meaning of the
word credit, which, on one fide or the other,
ferves as a veil to an induftrious fraud. The art
of contratling debts and not paying them was
no longer the fcience of the beau-monde(i^).
When

(a) ^he porten of Paris carry their burdens in a long bajket

Jlrapped over the poulders, and reaches doivn to the loaiji', and
of thefe there are near as many ivonien as men.

(b) When Charles VII. king of France, was at Bourges,

he ordered a pair of boots to be made for him. As they
were trying on, his intendant entered, and faid to the (hoe-
maker, “ Take away your boots 5 we can’t pay for them
foF fome time 5 his majefty can wear his old ones a month
longer.” The king commended the intendant 5 and he
deferved to have fuch a man in his fervice. What will fome
voung rake fay to this, who, vyhile he is trying on his
boots.
 ne Porters of Parts. I5

When I came out, the crowd flill fiirround-

ed me ; but there was nothing either jeering
or infulting in their behaviour ; merely a buzz
from every fide ; “ That^s the man who is fe-
ven hundred and fixty years old. How unfor¬
tunate mufi: he have been in the firft part of his
life [a) r’

I WAS afhoniflied to find fo much elegance,

and fo little embarraflment in the ftreets. One
would have faid it was the Fete-Dieu(^). The

boots laughs within himfelf, to think how he thall trick the

poor woikman. He defpifes the man whom he has defraud¬
ed, and fpends the money in debauchery. It were happy, if
the bafenefs of his foul was imprinted on his front j on
that front which biulhes not, when he turns down the
corner of each ftreet to fhun the eye of a creditor. I could
wifh, that every man in Pas is, who was drefled beyond his
flation, fhould be obliged, under a fevere penalty, to carry
his taylof’s receipt in his pocket,

{a) He who is in poiTeflion of the fubfidies and finances

of a flate is defpotic in the full extent of the term ; and if
he does not make al! bend before him, it is becaufe it is not
always for his intereft to exert all his power.

(b) rhisfecijf, 'which js in the month of Juney is, at Paris, the

greateji in the year, the Jhops are not only JJjut, but every honj'e
is hung nwitb tapejiry, from the f^ fi floor to the ground j all the <
Jlreets through 'ivhtch the fever al proceffons pafs are fivept, and
jlre'wei •withji$wers 3 and no carriages are fujfered to pafs.

VoL, I, C
2t6 Thi PorUrs of Pam,

city, however, appeared to be extremely po**

pulous.

There was in each ftreet a guard that pre*

ferved the public order, and directed the courfe
of the carriages, and of the porters; it took par¬
ticular care to procure a free palTage for the
latter, whofe burdens were proportioned to their
ftrength. You heard not here a wretch panting
for breath, covered with fweat, his eyes red
with flraining, and his head bent down, groan
under a load that would have charged a beafl
of burden, among a humane people 5 the rich
were not permitted to fport with humanity, by
virtue of a few pieces of money ; nor did you
fee the weak and delicate fex, born to perform
the foft and pleafing duties of life, transformed
into beads of burden ; in the public markets,
bending under weights to which their ftrength
was unequal,’and accufmg the cruel infenfibility
of thofe men'Who were the tranquil fpedators
of their labours. Reftored to their proper Ra¬
tion, the women attended to thofe duties only,
which the Creator has enjoined them, to bear
children, and be the confolation of thofe who
protect them from the evils of life,

CHAP.
 ( 27 )

CHAP. V.

The C A R R I A G E S.

I Observed, that all who went took the

right hand, and all who came the left(^).
This fimple method of avoiding obftruclion
has been lately difeovered ; fo true it is, that
all iifeful inventions are produced hy time(Z').
By this regulation all obflru^lions are avoided-,
and every paffage is left free. From the public
fe-ftivals, where the greatefl; concourfe of people
refort, to enjoy an entertainment of which they
are naturally fond, and of which it would be
unjuft to deprive them, each one returns to his
home without detriment or danger. I faw not
there that ridiculous and turbulent fight of an
innumerable number of coaches entangled with

{a) A ftranger can by no means conceive wliat it is that

in France occafions a perpetual movement among the peo¬
ple, who, from morning to evening, are abfent from their
houfes, frequently without any bulinefs, though in an in-
comprehenfible agitation,

{b) ^hh method^ 1 am infertnedy bas been long ufed in the

ferial city sf Fienna,

C 2 each
2S I'he Carriages,

each other, and the whole body remain im^

moveable for three hours together ; while the
gilded fop, the helplefs wretch who fuffers
himfclf to be drawn along, forgetting that he
has legs, cries out from the coach-window,
and laments that he is not able to advance (<?).

The greatefl: quantity of people form^a cir¬

culation that is free, eafy, and perfectly regu¬
lar. 1 met a hundred carriages loaded with
provifions or moveables for one coach, and
even in that there was only a man who appeared
to be infirm. AVhat are become, I faid, of thofe
carriages completely gilt, paintedj and varnifh-
ed, that in my time crowded the flreets of Paris?
Have you then no farmers of taxes, no courte¬
zans no petits maitres? Formerly thofe
three defpicable tribes infulted the public, and
vied with each other in attradling the regard of
the honeft citizen, who fled with precipitation
f

(j) This droll fight of a number of carriages, intended

for expedition, blocked up for a long time by each other,
while the mafters are fretting and the coachmen fwearing,
affords fome fatisfadlion to the perfecuted foot-palTenger.

(^) We have feen a fuperb carriage, drawn by fix horfei,

fumptuoufly harnelTed, through two rows of wondering
artifans, who bare-headed falufed a—ftrumpet,
before
 ^he Carriages,
o
t

before them, left he fhould be crufhed by their

chariot-wheels. The nobility of my days re¬
garded the fbreets of Paris as the lifts of the
Olympic games, and placed their glory in the
havock they made with their horfes ; then it
v/as, ‘‘ let him fave himfelf thatcan.’^
I

Those fort of courfes,” he replied, are

no longer permitted. Juft fumptuary laws have
fupprefted that barbarous luxury, which ferved
only to propagate a race oflackies and horfes (^?).
The favourites of fortune no longer indulge in
that criminal luxury fo injurious to the poor.
The nobles of our day ufe their own legs, and
therefore have more money and lefs of the
gout.

You fee, however, fome coaches : they

belong to ancient magiftrates, or to men diftin-
guiftied by their fervices, and bending under the
weight of years. It is permitted to them only to
roll flowly over the pavement, where the low-
eft citizen is refpe61;ed.
A.
Should one of thefe
have the misfortune to lame an,y paftenger, he

(a) Thofe expenfive fots, who parade with a crowd of

valets, have been juftly compared to certain infedts, who,
though they have many feet are remarkably flow in motion,

C 3 would

/
 3^ The Carriages,

would Infmntly defcend from Ills coach, pliicc

the injured perfon in it, and, at his own ex-
pcnce, provide him with a carriage for the re-
aitainder of his days. But this never happens %
they who are permitted to have coaches are men
of merit, who think it no difgrace to let their
horfes give place to a citizen.

Our fovereign himfelf frequently goes oh

foot amongfl; us ; fometimes he even honours
our dwellings with his prefence; and almoft al¬
ways, when tired with walking, refts himfelf in
the fhop of fome artifan {a); he loves to obferve
that natural equality which ought to reign
among men *, he meets in our eyes with no¬
thing but love and gratitude; our acclamations
proceed from the heart, and his heart receives
them with complacency; he is a fecond Henry
IV. he has the fame dignity of foul, the fame
benevolence of temper, the fame noble fimpli-
clty; but he is more fortunate : the public ways
receive from his footfteps a facred impreffion
that every one reveres ; none dare breed riot;
they are alhamed to caufe the leaft diforder.

(a) Thh n.vai a frequent praBice of the late StanifauSf king

tf Volandy in the latter part of his life,
« If
 v%^2r/> -'V -i'"’’ - ••■
... '-''t '^\

>a.. ‘i.-

^he Carnages- 31

If the king fhould come by,’’ they fay ; that

foie refle(ftion would, I believe, flop a civil war.
How powerful is example, when it proceeds
from the firfl perfon in the nation ! how does
it affedl! what command it has over all men !
it becomes an inviolable law.

C 4 CHAP,
 ( 32 )

CHAP. VI.

The embroidered Hat,

^T^HINGS feem to mefomewhat changed^,

-L I faid to my guide; I obferve that every
one is drefied in a fimple modeft manner ; and-
in all our walk, I have not feen either gold
clothes or laced ruffles. In my time, a puerile-
and deftriuSlive luxury had turned all their
brains ; a body without a foul was covered with
lace; and'the automaton then refembled a man.
—That is the very reafon which induced ua
to defpife that ancient livery of pride ; our eyes
are not confined to the furface. When a man
is known to excell in his art, he has no need of a
rich habit, nor of magnificent apartments, to
recommend him ;■ he wants not admirers to ex¬
tol him, or protedlors to fupport him ; his ac¬
tions fpeak, and each citizen is defirous that he
fhould receive the recompence of his merit;
they who purfue the fame career are the firfi: to
follicit in his favour; each one prefents a peti¬
tion, in which the fervices that he has rendered
the ftate are difplayed in the ftrongeft cok)urs.

Our
 The embroidered Hat. ’ 33
Our monarch fails not to invite to his
court the man who is dear to his people ; he en¬
deavours to receive inftrudion from him ; for
he does not imagine that all knowledge was
given him at his birth ; he profits by the lucid
inftrudlions of him that has made fome grand
objedl the conflant fubjedl of his enquiry ; he
prefents that man with a hat, on which the
wearer’s name is embroidered ; and that dif-
tindlion far outweighs thofe ribbands, blue, red,
and yellow, with which Avere formerly drelTed
up, men that were abfolutely unknown to their
country (^).

You will readily believe, that an infamous

charadler dare not prefent itfelf before a public
that would immediately difcover the deceit. >
Whoever bears one of thefe honourable hats has
free accefs to all places ; at all times, he is ad-

{a) The vanity of the ancients confifted in deriving

their origin from the gods j fome laboured to prove them-
felves the nephews of Neptune, the grandfons of Venus,
the coufin* germans of Mars; others, more modefl, con¬
tented tbemfelves with being defeended from fome river,
nymph, or nayaid- ■ Our modern coxcombs have a more
gloomy ambition ; they would derive their defeent from
the depths of obfcurlty.

c 5 mitted
34 embroidered Hat,

mitted to the foot of the throne ; that is a fun¬

damental law : therefore, when a prince or a
duke has done nothing to obtain the embroider¬
ed hat, he enjoys his wealth, but is intitled to
no honours; he is regarded with the fame in¬
difference as an obfcure citizen, who mixes and
-is lofl in the crowd.

Both policy and reafon authorife this dif-

tin£lion 3 it can be difpleafing to thofe only who
find themfelves incapable of ever attaining it,
Man is not fufficiently perfect to do good mere^-
ly for the fake of good. This fort of nobility,
as you will eafily believe, is perfonal only, nor
hereditary; nor is it venal. At the age of twen¬
ty-one, the fon of an illuftrious citizen prefents
himfelf before a tribunal, who determine whe¬
ther he fhall enjoy the prerogatives of his father.
From his pafh conduft, and fometimes from the
hopes that he gives, they confirm the honour
that appertains to a citizen dear to his country j
but if the foil of Achilles be a bafe Therfites^
we turn our eyes from him, that he may not
have the fhame of blufliing before us; he de-
fcends into an obliidon, as deep as his father’s
glory was exalted.
«« In
 The embroidered Hat, 35

In your time, they punIQied vice,,but they

afligned no recompcnce to virtue *, a very im-
perfcd legiflation. Among us, the man of cou¬
rage, who has faved the life of a citizen {a), who
has prevented fome public calamity, who has
performed fome a6l of great utility, wears the
embroidered hat, and his refpedlable name cx-
pofed to the public view, gives him precedence
to the man of wealth, though it were equal to
that of Midas or Plutus That, I replied,
is highly juft. In my time, they gave, indeed,
a red hat, which they fetched from beyond the
feas j but it implied no merit in the wearer ; it
was a mere inftance of ambition ; and I know
not well on what pretence they obtained it.

[a) It is aftoni(hing tliat they allot no reward to the

man who has faved the life of another, perhaps, at the rifK
of his own. An ordinance of the police gives ten crowns
to the waterman who takes up a drowned body, but no¬
thing to him who faves a citizen in imminent danger of
drowning^
(^) When an extreme thirft for wealth poflefles every
breaft, the glow and fpirit of virtue vaniflies, and go¬
vernment can only rewarxl by large premiums, thofe who
were formerly fatisfied with titles of honour. Monarchs
fhould rherfore create that fpecies of wealth j but, as we
faid, it will be current only while the minds of men are
fufcefptibk of noble iraprelTions..
C 6 CHAP,
 ( 3^ )
9

CHAP, VII.

TZv 2?/ Idge re-hapiifed,

our converfation is intercftlng^

V V the length of the way becomes imper»
ceptible. I no longer felt the weight of age, bc-
ing quite re-juvenated by the fight of fo many
new objects. But what did I difcover ! O hea-
vens, what a profpe6l ! I found myfelf on the
borders of the Seine, where my enchanted fight
beheld a long extent of the moft beautiful build¬
ings ; the Louvre was linilhed; and the fpace
that was between that and the palace of the Thu-
iller les formed an immenfe place, where they «

celebrated the public fhews ; a new gallery cor-

refponded to the old one of Perrault, which was
fliil beheld with admiration. Thefetwo auguft
3nonuments, thus united, formed the the moft
magnificent palace in the univerfe. All the
artifts of diftinguifhed merit refided in this
palace, and formed the moft refpeiSfable part of
the attendants of a monarch, who valued no-
tiling fo‘ much as patronizing thofe arts that
gave
 57;^ Bridge re-laptlfed, 37

gave birth to the glory and happinefs of his em¬

pire. I faw a fuperb public place that was capa¬
ble of containing the whole body of the citi¬
zens ; a temple was in front; it was the temple
of Juftice; the architeeflure of that building
correfponded with the dignity of the object.

Is that the Pont-Neuf? I cried. How it is

decorated!—What mean you by the Pont-
Neuf We have given it another name; and
many others have we, changed, to give them
fuch as were more appofite or fignificant; for
nothing has a greater influence on the people
than the ufe of jufl and expreffive terms. Be¬
hold the bridge of Henry IV. As it forms a
communication between the two parts of the
city, it could not bear a more refpedlable title.
In each of the femicircles, we have placed the
flatues of thofe great men, who, like him, were
the friends of mankind, and fought nothing but
the good of their country. We have not hefi-
tated to place befide him the chancellor L’Hopi-
tal. Sully, Jeannin, and Colbert. What a trea-
tife on morality ! What public lecture is fo
eloquent, fo perfuafive, as this range of heroes,
whofc figures, though dumb, yet expreffive,
tell to every one how great and defireable it is
to
3^ The Bridge re-baptifed,

to obtain the public efteem. Your age had not

the glory to perform fuch an aaion/’ —Alas-!
my age found the greateft difficulties in the
fmalleft enterprifes j they made the moft extra-
orardiny preparatives to announce with pomp an
abortion; a grain of fand flopped the movement
of the moft boafted fprings; in fpcculation,they
crefled the moft noble fabrics 5 the tongue and
the pen- feemed to be the univerfal inftru-
ments. All things have their time. Our age
was that of innumerable projefts; yours is that
of execution. I congratulate you on your feli^
city, and rejoice to think that I have lived fa.
long..

CHAP
 rA
<■
■f ■<

39 )•

CHAP. VIIL

The new Paris*

turning my fight toward that part where

flood the bridge formerly called Pont-au-
Change, I faw that it was no longer loaded
with wretched hovels (<^); my view extended
with pleafure along the vaft courfe of the Seine,
and the profpeeft, flri£lly regular,, was further
gi'aced by novelty.

These, indeed, are admirable improve¬

ments !—‘‘ Tis true j yet ’tis pity, that they
fliould remind us of a fatal accident caufed by

(a) The thoufands of men that refort to the fame foot.

A ^

who dwell in houfes of feven ftories, who crowd together

in narrow ftreets, who ince/Tantly labour an exhaufted foil,
while nature fets before them a vaft and pleafant country,
is an objedl, in the eye of a philofopher, highly aftonifh-
ing. The rich repair thither to int;Veafe their power, and
prevent an abufe of their power by that power itfelf. The
poor cheat, flatter, and fet themfelves to fale. They who
don’t fucceed are hanged j the others become perfons of
confequence. It is eafy to conceive, that in this perpetual
and brutal confli^l: of interefts, the duties of the man and
of the citizen are fcarce longer to be found*

youil
f-

40 Thi new Paris.

your negligence.”—How our negligence ? If you
pleafe.—Hlftory relates that you talked per¬
petually of pulling down thofe miferable houfes,
without performing It. On a certain day, there¬
fore, when your magiflrates preceded a fump-
tuous feaft with afire work, in order to comme¬
morate the anniverfary of fome faint, to whom,
doubtlefs, France had great obligations: the fir¬
ing of the cannon, the petards, and mines, over¬
threw the ruinated houfes built on thofe old
bridges ; they tottered, and fell on the wretched
inhabitants ; the fall of one was the ruin of an¬
other ; a thoufand citizens perifiied; and the
magiflrates, to whom appertained the revenues
of the houfes, curfed not only the fire-work, but
the very feafl.

The fucceeding years they made not fo

much noife about nothing ; the money that
fprung up in the air, or caufed dangerous indi-
geftions, was employed in forming a capital for
the refloring and maintaining ofibridges; they
regretted the not having obferved this method
before ; but it was the fate of your age to difre-
gard their follies, though enormous, till they
were completely finifhed.

Let
f

-M.,

The new Paris, 41

Let us walk, if you pleafe, tliisway ; you

will fee fome demolitions that we have made, I
think, not improperly. The two wings of the
Quatre Nations (^) no longer fpoil one of the
iineft quays, and perpetuate the vindi6live tem¬
per of a cardinal. We have placed the town-
houfe oppofite to the Louvre. When we give
any public entertainment, we think juftly that
it is intended for the people ; the place is
fpacious ; no one is-injured by the fire-works,
or by the brutality of the foldiers, who, they
fay, in your time, (can it be believed ?) fome-
times wounded the citizens, and wounded
them with impunity (^).

*‘You fee that we have placed the flatueof the

feveral kings that fuceeeded yours on the middle
of each bridge. This range of monarchs, elevated
without pomp, in the center of Paris, affords a

{d) A college of that namef marly oppofte the Lou^vrSy founded

hy cardinal Ma^ariny for the education of fxty pupils of four
nationsy nvhich are Italyy Germanyy Flanders, and Roujjilkn^
a county in \he PyreneeSy betsween Languedoc and Catalonia,

{b) This is what I have feen, and of which I here pub¬

licly accufc the magiftrates, who ought to be more follici-
tous for the life of one citizen than for twenty public fire¬
works,
grand
42 The new Paris,
grand and interefling profpeft over the river
that adorns and refrellies the city, and of which
they appear to be the tutelary deities. Thus
placed, like the good Henry IV, they have a
more popular air than when inclofed in fquares,
where the eye is bounded(<?). Thefe, grand
and natural, were erected without any great ex¬
pence ; our kings, after their deceafe, did not
impofe that laft tribute, which in your age op-
prelTed the fubjefl:, already exhaulled,”

I OBSERVE, with great fatisfa£lIon, that you

have taken away the flaves that were chained to
the feet of the ftatues of our kings (Z*); that you
have obliterated every faftuous infcription (^);

(a) The houfes of the farmers of the public taxes, for

the moft part, encircle the ftatues of our kings; fo that
they cannot, even after their death, avoid being furrounded
by fcoundrels.

(S) Lewis XiV. ufed to fay, that of all the governments

in the world, that of the grand Turk pleafed him moft. A
greater inftance of pride and ignorance cannot be pro-
duced.
(f) Tl/s evidently referi to the outre'ftatue of Lewis in
the Place des ViBoireSf and to the bombajiic infcription on the pe»
dtjlal, which calls him, ** the immortal man'* It is but juficf
to the Parijians to add, that they are in general iifgufied with
the one and the ether,

and
 The new Pat is. 43
^nd though that grofs flattery is of all others the
leaft dangerous, you have carefully avoided even
the appearance of falfliood and oftentation.

They tell me, that the Baftile has been to¬

tally demoliflied by a prince Avho did not think
himfelfa god among men, but held the Judge
of kings in due reverence. They fay, moreover^
that on the ruins of that hideous caftle (fo pro¬
perly called the Place of Vengeance, and of a
royal vengeance) they have erected a temple to
Clemency; that no citizen is fnatched from
fociety, without his procefs being firft publicly
made ; that a lettre de cachet is a term unknown
to the people, and ferves only to exercife the cu-
riofity of thofe who bufy themfelves with invef-
tigating the antiquated terms of barbarous ages.
There had been, they added, a treatife com-
pofed, intitled, A Parallel between a Lettre
de Cachet and the Afiatic Bow-String.”

We arrived infenfibly at the Thuillerles,

where every one was admitted ; and it now ap¬
peared to me more charming than ever(^). They

(a) To refufe the common people an entrance into Uiis

garden feems tome a wanton infult, and of a higher dc»
gree than is commonly imagined.
made
 1

44 Paris,

made me no demand for a feat in that royal gar¬

den. We found ourfelves at the Place of Lewis
XV. My guide, taking me by the hand, faid,
with a fmile, \ ou muft have feen the inau¬
guration of this equeftrian itatue.’"—Yes; I
was then young, and no lefs curious than at pre-
fent.—But, do you know,” hefaid, that it
is a chef-d’oeuvre worthy of our age? We
conftantly admire it; and when we furvcy the
perfpe(fl:ive of the palace, it appears, efpecially by
the fetting fun, crowned with the mofl illullrious
rays. Thefe magnificent vifias form a happy en-
clofure; and he who projected the plan was, by
no means, deftitute of tafle ; he had the faga-
city to forefee the efFe6t they would one day
produce. I have read, however, that, in your
day, there were men as jealous as ignorant,*
who vented their cenfure againfl this ftatue and
place, which they ought to have admired (/^)c
If, at this time, there fhould be a man fiupid,

(^) It is only in France, that the art of keeping Alence

is not regarded as a merit, A Frenchman is not more
cafily known by his countenance and his accent than by the
legerity with which he talks and determines on all fub-
jedls; he never knows how to fay, I underhand no¬
thing of that,’*
enough-
 Tht new Paris*
45
enough to utter fuch abfurdities, he would cer*
tainly be treated with the higheft contempt.”

I CONTINUED my entertaining walk; but

the detail would be too long: befide, in recol*
lefting adream, fomething is always loft. The
corner of every ftreet prefented a beautiful
fountain, from which there flowed a pure and
limpid ftream that fell into a ftiell, whofe fur-
face rcfenibled the beaten filver, and the tranf*
parency of the water invited the thirfty paflen-
gers to a falutary refreftiment. The clear
ftream that fell from the fountain, as it flowed
through the ftreets plentifully waftied the pave¬
ment. '

Behold the projeft of your M. Defpar-

' cieux, memberof the academy of fciences, com¬
pletely accompliftied. Sec how every houfe is
furnifhed with that which is of all things the
moft ufefulj the moft neceflary. ^W^hat elegance
to our dwellings, what refreftiment to the air,
is derived from this Angle circumftance.

‘‘ We no longer ered thofe dangerous chim-

nies which threatened to crufti each paflenger
•^by .their fall ; our roofs have not that Gothic
6 de»
46 T-he new Pans,
declivity, from which a gufl of wind could blow
the tiles into the moft frequented ftreets.”—
We afcended to the top of one of their houfcs
by a luminous flair-cafe. What a pleafure was
it to me, who love the free air and an extenfive
profpedl, to find the tops of the houfes orna¬
mented with pots of flowers, and covered with
fweet-fcented arbours ; the fummit of each
houfe ofFered fuch a terras, and as they were all
of an equal height, they formed together one
vaffc and delightful garden; fo that the whole
city, when viewed from the top of fome tower,
appeared to be crowned with verdure, fruits,
and flowners.
I

I NEED not tell you, that the Hotel Dieu was

no longer inclofed in the center of the city. If
any flranger or citizen falls fick, when diflant
from his country or his family, we do not, they
faid, imprifon hi/n as they did in your time, in a
noifome bed, between a corpfe and one expiring
in agonies, to breathe the noxious vapours from
the dead and the dying, and convert a firnple in-
difpofition into a cruel difeafe. We have divided
that hofpital into twenty diflinfl houfes, which
are placed at the different extremities of the city.
2 By
 The new Paris. 47

By that means, the foul air which exhaled from

that horrid gulph {a) is difperfed, and no longer
dangerous to the capital. The fick, moreover
are not driven to thofe hofpitals by extreme in¬
digence ; they do not go thither already ftruck
with the idea of death, and merely to fecure an
interment ; but becaufe they there find more
ready and efficacious fuccour than in their own
habitations. You there no longer fee that hor¬
rid mixture, that fiiocking confufion, which
announced a place of vengeance rather than of
charity. Each patient has a feparate bed, and
can expire without reviling the human race.
They have ferutinifed the accounts of the di-
reefors. O ffiame ! O grief! O incredible

(a) six thoufand wretches are crowded together in the

wards of the Hotel Dieu, where the air has no circulation.
The arm of the river, which flows by it, receives all its
filth, and abounds with the feeds of corruption, is drank
by one half of the city. In that part of the river which
waflies the quay Pelletier, and between the two bridges,
a great number of dyers pour in their dregs three times a
week. I have feen the water retain a dingy hue for more
than fix hours after. The arch that compofes the quay
de Gevres is the fink of peftilence 3 the inhabitants of all
that part of the town drink an infedled water, and breathe
empoifoned air. The money that is fo prodigally fpent In
fire-works would be fufticient to rid the city of this curfe,

guilt I
 > %

^8 ^he new Paris.

\

guilt ! that men fliould enrich themfelves with

the fubftance of the poor, find happinefs in the
miferies of their fellow-creatures, drive a gain¬
ful bargain with death !—But no more ; the
time for thofe iniquities is pafl: ; the afylum
of the wretched is regarded as the temple
where the Divinity pours his facred influence
with the greatefl: complacency ; thofe enor¬
mous abufes are all correded, and the poor fick
mortal has now nothing to encounter but his
difeafe, and, opprelTed by that alone, he fuffers
in filence (a).
Learned
^ \

(tf) I have fometimes walked with flow and folitary

i\eps through the wards of the Hotel Dieu at Paris. What
place more proper to meditate on the fate of man? I have
there feen inhuman avarice decorated with the name of
public charity ; I have feen the dying, crowded clofer to¬
gether than they ought to be in the grave, precipitate the
death of their miferable companions 5 I have feen their
pangs and their tears regarded with a general unconcern 5
the fword of death ftruck on the right and on the lelt, and
not a figh was heard ; one would have thought that they
were killing beads in a flaughter-houfe. I have feen men fo
hardened by this fight, as to wonder that any one fliould b« '
affedted. A few days after, I have been at the opera.
What a profufe amufement! Decorations, adlors, mufi-
cians ! an enormous expence to procure a pompous enter¬
tainment ! What will pofterity fay, when they (ball be told
chat
M

Thi new Paris, 4<}

%

Learned and humane 'phyficians here

^iTiduoufly examine each particular patient; not
/

pronounce ientence of death, by promifeuoufiy

didating general precepts, liy their difeerning
and attentive condud, health is foon rcflored.
The phyficians we rank among the moll; re-
fpedable of our citizens. In fad, what em¬
ployment more amiable, more illuftrious, more
worthy of a virtuous and fagacious being, than
to preferve the delicate thread of our days, by
nature frail and fleeting, but by art rendered
firong and durable ?”~-Butyour general hofpi-
tal, where is that fituated ?—We have no
general hofpitai (a), no Bicetre (Z), no places
of
that two fo different places could fubfift in the fame city.
How, alas! can tjiey exift on the fame fpotf Dce^ not
the one neceffarily exclude the other ? A fhort time after
the royal academy of. mufic overwhelmed my foul j the
firfl ftrokeofthe bow brought before my eyes the mourn¬
ful bed of thofe dying wretches.

(<^) The Hofpttal General of Paris js a f,rt of general 'work *

hoaje. It IS Jaid to contain ten or elc^ven thoujandperfons,

{b) In the prifonof t!>e Bicetre, there is a room called

the Sal e de Force, that is a type of the internal regions.
Six hundred wretches, crowded together^ oppreffed by
their mifeiies, by a foul air, by the vermin that de^’car
VoL. I, D them.
•

50 ihe new Paris,

of confinement, or rather diftradlion. A found

body has no need of the cautery. Luxury, in
your time, had gangrened the vital parts of your
conftitution ; your political body was covered
with ulcers ; and, inltead of gently healing
thofe fliameful fores, you added to them frefh
malignity. You thought to have extinguifiied

them, by defpair, and by a rancour ftill more cruel, live in

the fermentation of a ftifled rage 5 it is the punifhment of
T^lezentius a thoufand times multiplied 'j'. The magiftrates
are deaf to the cries of thefe unhappy people. We have
feen them murder their coalers, the furgeons, the very
priefl that attend them, with the foie view of being deli¬
vered from that place and expiring with more freedom on
the fcaffold. It has been juflly remarked, that death would
be a lefs barbarous punifhment than what tliey fufFer. O
je inhuman magillrates! iron-hearted wretches, unwor¬
thy the name of men ! you offend againft humanity ftill
more than thofe you punifh! No band of ruffians in the
midft of their ferocity, ever exercifed cruelties like yOurs.
Dare to feem ftill more inhuman, but execute more fpeedy
juUice 5 fet fire to their prifon, and burn them all alive ;
you will fpare them the greater mifery of attending your
determinations in their horrible flavery : but, alas! you
feem only anxious toprotradl it.
Might not each of thefe unhappy men, have a heavy
weight fixed to his foot, and be fent to till the ground ?
No j they are the vidlims of an arbitrary power that you
would conceal from every eye,—-I underftand you,

f Vide Virg, Mn, lib, viii, ver, 483,

vice
 ^he new Paris,

vice by cruelty; you were inhuman, becaufe

you were incapable of forming jufl laws {a).
i:h

You found it more eafy to torment the

guilty and unfortunate than to prevent diforder
and mifery. Your barbarous violence has only
ferved to harden the hearts of criminals, and ■ I, .

•If
to make them more defperate. And what have
you gained by this condu£l ? Tears, diflraded
i'l-
.V

. cries, and curfes. You feem to have modelled r

»
your places of confinement after your idea of A

that horrible dwelling you called the infernal re¬ s

r- •

‘f
gions, where the minifters of vengeance ac¬
cumulate tortures, for the horrid pleafure of
inflidling a lading punifliment on beings full
of agony and imploring mercy, ..a

‘‘To conclude, for to enumerate all would . A

take up too much time, you even knew not

(a) Yes, magirirates, it is your ignorance, your Idlc-

nefs, and precipitation, that caufe defpair among the poor.
You imprifon a man for a mere trifle, and place him by
the fide of a mifcreant: you corrupt, you poifon his
mind, and then leave him, forgot, amidft a herd of aban¬
doned wretches ; but he does not forget your injuftice ; as
yOu obferve no proportion between the crime and the pu-
punjfhment, he imitates your example, and all things be¬
come to him equal,

^ how
9
 The new Paris.

howto employ your beggars \ the utmofl clifcern’’

ment of your government confifled in fhutting
them up, and leaving them to periflr with hun¬
ger. Thefe wretches, who expired by a flow death
in a corner of the kingdom, have notwithftand-
ing made us hear their groans , we have not
been deaf to their obfeure complaints ; they
have pierced through a feries of feven ages-, and
your bafe tyranny in that inftance has recalled a
thoufand others/’

I HELD down my head, and was unable to

reply ; for I had been a witnefs to thefe cruel¬
ties, which 1 could only lament, for more was
not in my power (c?). After a fliort filence, I
laid, Ah ! do not renew the wounds of my
heart. God has avenged the evil they did to
mankind ; he has puniflied the hardnefs of
their hearts : you know--But let us purfue
our walk. ' You have, I think, fuflered one of
our political evils to fubfifl: ; Paris appears to
•me as populous as in my time ; and it was then
proved, that the head was three times too large
\

(rt) I have fatisfied my heart, and executed juftice, in

announcing this invafion of humanity, this horrid outrage
that will fcarce be believed5 but, alas! it nevertheleffs
fublitls.
for
 The nevj Path,

for the body.—I am v/ell picafcd to inform,

you, ’ replied my guide, “ tliat the number of
inhabitants in the kingdom is doubled ; that
all the lands are cultivated ; and confetiucncly
the head bears now a jufl proportion to the
members. This great city conflantly produces
as many men of the firfl rank, men of learn¬
ing, of ufeful induflry, and refined genius, as
all the other cities ol France together.’’—BiU:
one word more, of too much importance to be
forgot : Do you place your magazines of pow¬
der in the center of the city?—We are far
from that imprudence. Nature produces fuffi°.
cient explofions. We need not conllruct thofe
that are artificial, and would be a hundred
times more dangerous (a).'*

(a) There are magazines of powder in the center of al-

moft every town. The lightning, and a thoufand other
unforefeen, nay unknown, incident?, may blow them up,
A thoufand terrible examples (a thing fcarce credible)
have not been fufficient to corredf, even to tliis hour, the
weaknefs of mankind. The lofs of two thoufand five hun¬
dred people, who periled in the ruins at Brefcia, will per¬
haps render our governors attentive to an evil, which may
jufily be called the work of their hands, as it is in their-
power fo eafily to prevent it*

^ R3 CHAP.
\
 I

#
( 54 )

CHAP, IX,
r

Petitions,
t

i Observed feveral officers, liabited with th^

enfigns of their rank, who came to receive
the complaints of the people, and make a faith-
^ ful report of them to the chief magillrates. Every
thing that regarded the adminiftration of the
police was treated with the greatefl: difpatch j
juhice was rendered to the injured ; and every
one bleffied the adminiftrators {a). I poured
forth my praifes on this wife and prudent
government. But, gentlemen, I faid, you,
are not intitled to all the glory of this inllitu-
tion. In my day, the city began to be weH go¬
verned. A vigilant police watched over every
rank and all tranfa6lions. One of thofe who
maintained it in the greatefl or^der, deferves to

(a) When a mlnifter of Rate, by liis bad managemenf,

puts the monarchy in danger, or when a general (beds the
blood of the fabjedfs to no purpofe, and fhamefully lofes a
^ battle, his punifliment is known ; he is forbid to come
into the monarch’s prefence. Thus crimes that may ruin
the nation are treated as mere trifles,
be
\
^Ihe Peiltions*

be named with eulogy amidfl: you. We rend,

among his judicious ordinances, that for abo-
lilhing thofe ridiculous and heavy figns which
disfigured the city, and endangered the paflen-^
gers; that for completing, or rather inventing,
of lamps ; and lor the admirable plan of a fpeedy
ftipply of water, by which the inhabitants have
^ been preferved from thofe fires which were for®
merly fo frequent {a).

is true,” they replied,

It that magiftrate
was indefatigable, and equal to the duties of
his office, extenfive as they were. But the po¬
lice had not then received its full perfedion ;
fpies were then the principal agents of a go¬
vernment weak, reftlefs, and mutinous (/»).
They were moreover very frequently employed

(a) If this author thinks the fres in Paris frequent^ where

there is fcarce a houfe burned in a yeary and where no one eojer
thought It worth while to ereEi an office of infurance, what would
he fay to thofe at London, In fa^ly the French houfes are fo con-
jiruEied as not eafJy to be burned,

{b) rhe quantity of fpies in Paris is incredible j befides a

great number who make it their foie bufmefsy alnioft all that
large corps, who by day clean Jhoes, and at night carry a faJot,
that IS, a farthing candle in a paper lanthorn, are of that ho-*
nourable order.
5^ T- 'hs Peiiilons,

in a criminal curiofity, rather than in what

ftridlly regarded the public utility ; all their
(iifcoveries, fo artfully procured, frequently
produced nothing more than a hdfe light that
deceived the magiflrate. What was worfe,
this corps of informers, feduced by bribes, be¬
came a corrupted mafs that infedled fociety ;
all the pleafures of converfation were banifli-
eJ [a); men could no longer open their hearts
to each other; they were reduced to the cruel-
alternative of imprudence or hypocrify. In
Vain did the foul (Irimeleto exprefs its ideas of
patriotiirn ; it dared not declare its fentimentsj
iaw the fnare tliat was fpread, and pierced
with grief, returned cold and folitary to its
fecret abode. In a word, men were then
inceilantly obliged to difguife their words,
their looks, and a£lions. O ! how diflradf-.
ing to the generous foul, who faw the mon-
llers of his country fmile while they preyed

{a) All fuch frivolous and capricious regulations, all

tbcfe refinements in the police, can impofe on them
only who have never fludied the heart of man. Such
rigid reftricffions produce a hateful fubordination, fe-
cured by bands on which very little dependence can be
placed.

upon
 4

Petitions*

upon it; who faw, and dared not point them

out(^).' I
(a) We have not yet had a Juvenal. What age ever
more deferved fuch a fatirifl ? Juvenal was not a felfifli
wretch, like the liatterer Horace, or theinfipid Boileau 5 he
had a firm foul, that thoroughly detefted vice, frankly de¬
clared waragainft it, and puifucd it when fheltered under
the purple. Who now dare atTuniie that fublime and gene¬
rous tafk ? Who now has fortitude fufficient to render up
his foul to truth, and fay to his age, 1 leave thee the
teftament that virtue hath didfated to me j read and blufh % •
it is thus I bid thee farewell*”

CIIA P.
 ( 58 )

C H A P. X.

*The Man with a Majk,

B U T, pray, who is that man that pafles

with a mafic on his face I How fah; he
wallcs, or rather flies!—‘‘ It is an author that
has wrote a bad book. When I fay bad, I fpeak
ivot of the defeds of judgment or ftyle ; an ex¬
cellent work may be made by the aid of plain
flrong fenfe alone [a) *, I only mean that he has
publidled dangerous principles, fuch as are in-
coafiflent with found morality, that univerfal mo¬
rality which fpeaks to every heart. By way of
reparation, he wears a mafk, in order to hide his
fliame, till he has effaced it by writing fome-
thing more rational and beneficial to fociety.
He is daily vifited by two worthy citizens, who
combat his erroneous opinions wdth the arms
of eloquence and complacency, hear his objec¬
tions, confute them, and will engage him to
retrad when he fliall be convinced. Then he

[a) Nothing is more true ; for even the homily of fomc

councry curate is of more folid utility, than a book artfully
ftlied with truths and fophifnis,
will
 The Man with a Majk, 59 '

Will be re-eftabliflied ; be will even acquire

from the confeffion of his errors a greater glory;
for what is more commendable than to abjure
our faults (^f),'and to embrace hew lights with
a noble fincerity —But was his book well
received —‘‘ What private perfon, I befeech
you, can dare to judge of a book againfl the
opinion of the public I Who can fay what may
be the influence of a particular fenriment in a
particular circumffance ? 'Each author anfwcrs
perfonally for what he writes, and never con"
ceals his name. It is the public that marks
him with difgrace, if he oppofe thofe facred
principles which ferve as the bafis to the con-
duef and probity of man. He mud of himfelf
iikewife fupport any new truth that he advances,
and that is proper to fupprefs fome abufe.
lira word, the public voice is the foie judge in
thefe cafes ; and it is to that alone regard is
paid. Every author, as a public man, is to be
judged by the general voice, and not by the >
caprice of a Angle critic, who rarely has a
difeernment fufficiently jud, and knowledge
fulTiciently extenfive, to determine what will

(a) All things are demonftrative in theory j even error

has its geometry.

13 6 appear
6o The Alan with a Majk,

appear to the body of the people truly deferving

of praife or blame.

It has been abundantly proved, that the

lioerty of the prefs is the true meafure of the
liberty of the people (<?). The one cannot be
attacked, without injury to the other. Our
thoughts ought to be pcriedlly free ; to brid’e
them, or flifle them in their fancluary, is the
crime of leze humanity. What can I call my
own, if my thoughts are not mine?'*

In my time, I replied, men in power feared

nothing fo much as the pen of an able writer;
d heir louls, proud and guilty, trembled in
their inmofl reccTes, when equity boldly pluck¬
ed off the veil that covered their flrame
There-

(-7) This is equivalent to a mathematical demonftration.

^ {b) In a drama, intitled The Marriage of a King’s Son,

a minifter of juftice, a court fcoundrel, fays to his valet,
fpeaking of philofophical writers, “ This fort of people
are dangerous ; vvecan’t countenance the leaU aft ofinjuf.
tice hut they will remark it. It is in vain that we bide our
faces under an artful mafk from the moH; difcerning palTen-
ger. Thtfe men have a manner of faying, en pajfant, 1
know you,”—MefTieurs Phiiofophers, I hope you will
leara
/

The Man with a Mafk. • (>l

Therefore, inftead of protecting that public

cenfure, which, well adminiftered, would have
been the flrongefl: check to vice and folly, they
obliged all writings to pafs through a fieve ; and
one which was fo clofe that frequently the moll
valuable parts were left behind. The flights of
genius were in fubjeclion to the cruel flieers of
mediocrity, who dipt its wings without mer¬
cy {a). They began to laugh. It muft have
been a droll fight,’’ they faid, to fee men
gravely employed in cutting a thought in two,
and weighing of fyllables. It is wonderful that
you produced'any thing good, when fo fiiackled.
How is it pofiible to dance with grace and eafe,
when loaded with heavy fetters ?—Our beft
writers took the moft natural means to fliake
them off. Fear debafes the mind, and the man
who is animated with the love of humanity
ilrould have a noble and dauntlefs fpirit. You
may now write againft all that offends you,’’

learn that it is dangerous to know a man of my fort. I

will not be known by you,

(a) One half of thofethey call royal cenforers cannot

be ranked among men of letters, not even thofe of the low-
eft clafs ; for it may be literally faid of them, that they
know not how to read,

they
62 The Man with a Mafi,
they replied, for we have no fieves, nor
flieers, nor manacles ; yet very few abfiirdities
are publiflied, becaufe they would of themfelves
perifh among their kindred dirt. Our govern¬
ment is far above all inventive ; it fears not the
keeneft pens; it would accufe itfelf by fearing
them. Its condu£l: is juft and fincere; we can
only extol it; and when the intereft of our
country requires, every man, in his particular
ftation, becomes an author, without pretend- .
iag to an exclufive right to that title*’^

CHAP..
 ( 63 )

CHAP. XI,

^he new Teflaments*

O Heavens! What is it you tell me?

All the world authors ! Why your walls
will catch fire like gunpowder, and blow into
the air. Mercy on us ! A whole nation of
authors !—Yes ; but without ill-nature,
pride, or difdain. Every man writes the
thoughts that occur in his brighteft moments ;
at a certain age, he colIe6ls the moft judicious
refleiSlions that he has made in the courfe of his
days ; in his lafl: years, he forms them into a
book, greater or lefs, according to his talent for
refledlion, and mode of expreflion. This book
is the foul of the deceafed. On the day of his
funeral, it is read aloud ; and that is his eulogy.
Our children colle^l with reverence all the re-
fle6lions of their forefathers, and meditate on
them. Thefe are our funeral urns ; and feem
to us more valuable than your fumptuous mau-
foleums, your tombs covered with wretched
inferiptions, dictated by pride, and executed
by bafenefs,
,Ws
64 T^he new ^ejiaynenis,
<< We thus make it a duty to leave our de-
fcendants a faithful image of our lives. An
honourable remembrance is the foie property
that can remain to us on the earth (a); and we
do not negledf it. Thefe immortal leflbns that«
\ve leave our pofterity make us ftill more be¬
loved by them. Portraits and ftatues preferve
the body’s femblance only. Why not reprefent
the foul, and the virtuous fentiments by which
it was alFedfed? They arc multiplied by the
animated expreffion that afFeclion excites j the
hiftory of our thoughts and of oiir adlioiisin-
flrudl our families 5 they learn, by the choice
and comparifon of thoughts, to improve their
manner of thinking and judging. Obferve,
moreover, that the predominant writers, the
men of genius, in every age, are the funs that
attradl the mafs of ideas, and caufe them to cir¬
culate. It is they that give the firfl movements ;
and as their generous hearts burn with the love
of humanity, all other hearts obey that fublime
and vidlorious voice, which has lain tyranny
and fuperftition in the dufl.’^—Gentlemen, per-

(^) Cicero frequently afked himfelf what they would fay

of him after his death. The man who has no regard to re¬
putation, will the means of acquiring it'.

• mit
 The 7:ew Teflamefiis. 65-..

me, I entreat you, todefencl my age, at leafc

in thbfe points in which it cleferves com.mcncla-
tion. We had, I think, amongft us, home
men of virtue and of genius.—Yes, barba¬
rians ! but they were either difregarded orper-
fecuted by you. Yi?e have thought ouriclvcs
obliged to make an expiatory reparation to their
offended manes ; we have creeled tbicir flatues
in the public places, where they receive our
homage as well as that of foreigners. Under
the right foot of each is placed the ignoble head'
of fome Zoilus or tyrant; under the buflein of
Corneille, for example, you will fee the head
of Richelieu {a). Yes, there were in your time
men of amazing talents ; and we are unable to
account for the foolifh brutal rage of their per-
fecutors ; they feem to have proportioned their
rancour to the degree of fublimity thofe eagles
attained , but they are conligned to the oppro-
bium which deferves to be their eternal inheri®
tance.”“

(a) I heartily wifh the author had informed us on whofa

heads ftood the feet of RoulTeau, Voltaire, and others
whofe names are ranked with thefe. We fhould certainly
have heard of heads mitred and unmitred, in an uneafy
fituation i but every one has his day,

On
6
66 The new Tejlaments.

On faying tbefe words, he conduced me to-

Vv'ards a place where the flatues of thofe great
men viere ereded. There I faw Corneille,
IMoIiere, Fontaine, Montefquieu, RoufTeau {a\
BufFon, Voltaire, Mirabeau, &c. All thefe
celebrated writers are then known to you ?—
Their names form our childrens alphabet ;
and when they attain the age of rationality, we
put into their hands your famous Encyclopedic
Di6lionary, which we have carefully digefted.”
—You furprife me ! the Encyclopedia ! an ele¬
mentary book ! O what a flight you muft
have taken' toward the higher fciences ! and
how do I burn to receive inltrudlion from you!
Let me behold your treafures, and enjoy In
one inftant the accummulated labours of fix,
glorious centuries.

(a)The author of Emelius is here meant, and not that

frothy poet, void of ideas, who had no other talent than
that of arranging words, and giving them a fidlitiaus pomp,,
under which he l)id the fterility of his invention, and th®^
torpid ftate of his genius,

.
C H 'A P4
 it'

{ 67 )

C II A P. xn.
College of ^atre Nations (a).

D O you teach your children Greek and

Latin ? In my time they tortured them
■with thofe languages. Do you confecrate ten
years, the moft precious and pleafing of their
lives, in giving them a fuperficial tin£lure of
two dead languages they will never fpeak I—
We know better how to employ their time.
The Greek language is doubtlefs very venerable,
on account of its antiquity 3 but we have Ho¬
mer, Plato, and Sophocles perfeddly tranflat-
ed {b)y whatever fome pedants may have faid of
the impoflibility of exprelTing their beauties.
As to the Latin language, which, being more

(a) See the note (^a) on page 41.

{h) Inftead of giving us differtations on the head of

Anubis, onOfiris, and a thoufand ufelefs rhapfodies, why
do not the members of the Royal Academy of Infcriptions
employ their time in tranflating the Greek authors, whom
they pretend to underftand fo well? Demofthenesis fcarce
known to us. That would be of more utility than to
know what fort of pins the Roman ladies wore in their
head-drefs, the form of their necklace, and whether th^
dafps of their gowns were round or oval*
mo-
68 The College of Sfiatre 1\ 'a! ions,

modern, muft in confequence be lefs excellent,

It lias died a natural death.’’—How is that —-
T he French language has prevailed univer-
Hlly. 1 hey at firfl made fuch nniOied tranfla-
lions as almofl; lendered it fuperPiUous to have
recourfe to the originals ; and they have fince
compoied fuch works as are worthy to efface
thofe of the ancients. Tiicfe new poems are
incomparably more ufeful, and more intereff-
ing to us, more relative to pur manners, to our t

government, to our progrefs in philofophical

knowledge and in politics, and laftly to that
moral view of which we ihould never lofe fight.
The two antiquated languages, of which we
fliall i'ay more hereafter, are now ufed by a few
learned men only. We read Livy almoft in
the fame manner as we do the Alcoran.’’—I
perceive the college, however, ffill bears, on^
its front, in large charadlers, Ecole des ^atre
Nations.—We have preferved this building,^
and even its name, in order to apply it to bet¬
ter purpofes. There are now four claffes in
this college, who are taught Italian, Englifh,
German, and Spaniffi, Enriched with the
treaiures of tnefe living languages, we do not
in the leaft envy the ancients. This na¬
tion^,,
 The College of ^uaire Natlonu 69

4ion, which contained within itfelf the feeds of

^grandeur that nothing could deftroy, has been
fuddenly enlightened by one of thofe powerful
•ftrokes, that it is iinpolTible to expc61: or fore¬
fee ; the revolution has been as fudden as hap¬
py, becaufe the light fell at firfl on the head ;
whereas, in other ftates, that has been almoft
always plunged in darknefs.

Stupidity and pedantry are baniOied frorn

this college; and flrangers have been invited
thither to facilitate the pronunciation of the
languages there taught. The bed authors in
^each of them have been tranilated. Frorn this
mutual correfpondence mafles of light have
been reciprocady refleded. Another advantage
arifes from this, which is, that as the com¬
merce of thoughts is extended, natural preju¬
dices are infenhbly extinguifhed ; men have
been convinced that a few particular cufloms
ought not to deftroy that univerfal reafon wbich
fpeaks from one end of the world to the other ;
and that their thoughts were in reality very near
the fame on thofe fubjeds, that have occafion-
■ed fueh long and warm difputes.”—But what
does the uiiiverfity', that eldefl daughter of our
kings ?
*jO The College of ^aire Nations.

kings ?—Slie is become a cafl-ofF miftrefs.'

That old maiden, after receiving the laft fighs
6f a faftidious and afFe£led language, would
have paired it on the world for new, blooming,
and enchanting. She tranfpofed the periods,
mangled the h^miftics, and in a barbarous and
flovenly jargon, pretended to revive the lan¬
guage of the Augultan age. It was at laft per¬
ceived, that her difcordant voice was near ex-
haufted, and that (he brought a yawning upon
the court, the city, and efpecially on her difcr-
pies. By an arret of the French academy, Ihe
was ordered to appear before their tribunal, to
give an account of the good fhe had done for
the four laft centuries ; during which fhe had
been fupported, honoured, and penfioned. She
would have pleaded her caufe in her ludicrous
idiom, which certainly the Latins themfelves
would never have underftood ; for of the French
file was totally ignorant; fhe therefore dared
not to hazard herfelf before her judges.

The academy took pity on her embarralF

ment ; fhe was charitably ordered to remain
filent. They had afterwards the humanity to
teach her the language of the nation; and from
that
 ■H'lO l^ ‘

The College of Sluatre Nations. *ji

t^.at time, defpoiled of, her cowl, her crabbed

looks, and her ferule, (he has applied herfelf
folely to the teaching of that fine language,
I

which the French academy is every day im¬ I

proving ; and which, lefs timid, lefs fcrupu-

lous, coi reefs it, without always diminifhing
its force.”—And the military academy, what
is become of that It has fuffered the deftiny
of all the reft of the colleges. It contained every
other abufe befides thofe that were peculiar to
its inftitution. Men are not made as they make
foldiers.^’—Pardon me, if I trefpafs on your in-
dulgence ; but this point is of too much impor¬
tance to be abandoned. In my youth, they
talked of nothing but education. Each pedant
made his book, and well it was, if merely ftu-
pid. The beft of them all, the moft fimple,
the moft rational, and, at the fame time, the
moft profound, was burned by the hands of the
common hangman, and decried by thofe who
underftood no more of It than that hangman’s
deputy. Inform me, I entreat you, what me¬
thod you purfue in the forming of men }_
Men are rather formed by the wife lenity of
our government than by any other inftitution.
But to confine ourfelve^ to the culture of the
mind ;
>7 2 T. he College of Slggatrc Nations»

mind : while we familiarize our children with

the letters, we bring them acquainted with the
operations of algebra. That art is fimple, of
general utility, and not more difficult to learn
than it is to read ; even the fliado w of difficulty
has been removed ; the algebraic chara61:ers no
longer pafs among the vulgar for thofe of ma«
gic (a). We have found, that this fcience ha¬
bituates the mind to confider matters rigouroufly
as they are : and that this mode of reafoning is
of the higheft importance when applied to the
fciences.

They formerly taught youth a multiplicity

of knowledge that in no degree conduced to '
the liappinefs of life. We have feledled thofe
objedls only that will give them true and ufeful
I

[a) Soon after the art of printing was known at Paris,

fonoe one undertook to print Euclid’s Elements. The
workman employed, feeing it contain a number of fquares,
circles, triangles, &c. imagined that it was a book of for-
cery, intended for raifing the devil, who, for ought he
knew, might fetch him away in the midft of his work ; he
therefore declined itj but his mafter infifted on his perfe-
vering. The poor fellow, believing that they were deter¬
mined on his deftruftion, w as fo terrified, that, deaf to
reafon and his confeffor, he died of the fright a few days
after,
ideas
 The College of ^latre Nations, 73

ideas ; they vrere iiiftrufled univciTally in two

dead languages, which were imagined to con¬
tain every fort oi i'cicnce, but which could not
give them the lealt idea of thofe men Vv'ith.
whom they were to live. We content ourfelvcs
with teaching them the national language, and
even permit them to modify it after their own
tafte; for we do not wifli to form grammarians,
but men of eloquence. The flyle refemhles
the man ; and the man of genius ought to have
a correfpondent idiom ; very different from the
nomenclature, the only refource of weak
minds, whofe memories are treacherous.
j

We teach them little hifhory, becaufe hiflory

is the dilgrace of humanity, every page being
crowded with crimes and follies. God foi hid
that we fhould fet before their eyes fuch exam¬
ples of rapine and ambition. By the pedantry of
hiftory, kings have been raifed to gods. We
teach our children a logic more certain, and
ideas more juft. Thofe frigid chronologies,
thofe nomenclatures of every age, all thofe ro¬
mantic or debafed writers, who have been the
lirft to bow down before their idols, are oblite¬
rated, together with thepanegyrifts of the princes
VoL. 1. E of
 74. College of ^latre Nations»

of the earth [a). What! when the time is fo

Ihort and rapid, (hall we employ our children
in crowding their memories with a number of
names, of dates, of fadls, and genealogical trees ?
What wretched trilling, when the vad fields of
morality and phyfics lie open before us I It is to
no purpofe to fay that hillory furniihes exam¬
ples of inn-ru6tionto fucceeding ages; they are
pernicious and infamous examples that
fcrve merely to encourage arbitrary pow'er, and
to render it more haughty and more cruel, by
iirewing that men have in all ages bowed the
neck like flavcs ; byexpofing the fruitlefs efforts
of liberty, expiring under the attacks of men
«

[a] From Pharamonc! to Henry W. we can fcarce name

two kings, I Will not fay vv’ho knew how to reign, but who
knew how to employ that good fenfe in their adminlAra-
tiod that a private perfon obferves in the oeconomy oi his
family,

(h) The fcene changes in hiAory, it is true, but for

the moA part to introduce new evils ; for kings are follow¬
ed by an indilToluble chain of calamities. A monarch, on
his advancement to the throne, thinks he. does not reign,
if he putfue the ancient plans; the old fyAeins, that have
coA fo much blood, muA be aboliOied, and new ones eAa-
blliked j thefe agree not with the former, and, at the
famii time are not lefs piejudicial.

' who

‘ r'i'

■I
 The College of ^atre Nations, 75
who found a modern tyranny on that of the
ancients. Ifa man of an amiable, virtuous cha-
rader arofe, his coteinporaries were rnonflers,
by whom all his efforts were rendered abortive.
This pidure of virtue trampled under foot is
doubtlefs very juft j but, at the fame time, it is
highly dangerous to be expofed. It is only for
the man of determined refolution to behold
fuch a reprefentatioii without terror ; and lie
feels a fecret joy in refteding on the tranficnt
triumph of vice, and the eternal reward that is.
the portion of virtue. But from children fuch
pidures fhould be concealed j they fhould be
made to contiad a placid habit, with notions ob
order and equity, which ftiould, fo to fpeak,
compofe the fubftance of their minds. We do
not tOetch them an idle morality that confifts in
frivolous queftions,-but one that is practicable
and may be applied to all their adions, that
fpeaks by images, that forms their hearts to hu¬
manity, to courage, and to facrifice fclf-inte-
left, or, to fay all in one word, to generofity.

‘‘We have a fuftident contempt for meta-

phyfics, thofe gloomy regions, where every
one ereds a fyftem of chimeras, and always to
m

y6 The College of ^uatre Nations,

VO purpofe. It is from thence they have drawn

imperfe(fl images of the divinity, have disfi¬
gured his eflence by refining on his attributes,
and have confounded human reafon by placing
it on a flippery and moveable point, from
whence it is continually ready to fail into doubt.
It is by phyfics, that key to nature, that living
and palpable fcience, we are enabled to run
through the labyrinth of this marvellous aiTem-
blage of beings, and to perceive the wifdom
and power of the Creator; that fcience, pro¬
perly inveftigated, delivers us from an infinity
of errors, and the unformed mafs of prejudices
give place to that pure light which it fpreads
over all objefts. ^

At a certain age, w’e permit a young man

to read the poets. 7'hofe of the prefent day
know how to unite wifdom with enthufiafm ;
they do not deceive reafon by a cadence a ^d
harmony of words, and find themfelves led,
as it were againft their inclination, into
the falfe and the capricious ; nor do they
amufe themfelves with drefiing of puppets,
with fpinning of counters, or fhaking the
cap and bells. They are the recorders of
thofe
 The College of ^atre Nations, 77

thofe great a6lions that illiiftrate humanity ;

their heroes are taken from all nations where
are to be found courage and virtue : that falfe
and venal clarion, which vauntingly flattered
the colofles of the earth, is totally deflroyed.
Poetry has preferved that veridical trumpet only,
W’hich can refourid through a long ferics of ages,
becaufe it declares, fo to fay, the judgment of
pofterity. Formed by fuch models, our chil¬
dren acquire juft ideas of true greatnefs ; and
the plow, the fliuttle, and the hammer are
become more brilliant objedfs than the feepter,
the diadem, and the imperial robe.
 ( 78 )

CHAP. N
XIII.

JVher^ is the Sorhonne F

I N what language then dlfpute the do6lors of

the Sorhonne ? Have they ilill their ludi¬
crous pride, their long gowns, and their furred
hoods?—“ There are nownodifputations at the
Sorhonne , for fince the French language has
been every where ufcd, that troop of wranglers
has difappeared. The roofs, thank heaven, no
longer echo to barbarous terms, though lllli
lels extravagant than the abfurdities they were
intended to exprefs. We difeovered that the
feats on which thefe whimfical dodlors lat,
w^ere formed of a certain wood, whofe baneful
quality difordered the bed formed head, and
taught it to ibpliifticate methodically.’’—O !
that I had been born in your age ! Thofe mi-
ferable manufacturers of fyllogifms were the
pel fecutors of my younger days. I thought my-
felf for a long time deilitute of all ability, be-
caufe I could not underftand their arguments.
But what have you done with the palace erefted
by
 mere IS ihe S&rhcmie P 79
by that cardinal (^7), who made wretched verfes
with enthuhafm, and cut off worthy heads
with all the coolnefs poihhle ?—‘‘ That ]ar[;e
building contains feveral fpacious apartments,
where they now purfuc a courfe of ftudies far
more ufeful to humanity. 1 hey there difre<ft
all forts of dead bodies ; fagacious anatomihs
fearcli, in the recedes of the dead, the m(?ans
of diminiiliing the phyfical evils of the living.
Infteadof analyfing ridiculous propofitions, they
endeavour to difeover the fecret origin of thofe
maladies that torment us j and the deceafed
thus contribute to the good of their pofterity.
Such are the dodlors now honoured, ennobled,
and penfioned by the ftate. Surgery is more¬
over now united with phyfic, and the latter is
no longer at variance with itfelf.’^

O HAPPY prodigy ! they talk of the animofity

of contending beauties, of the jealous fury of
poets, and of the rancour of painters ; but thofe

(a) O cruel Richelieu, thou rueful author of a!! our mi-

fe:i€s, how I hate thee ! How doth thy name diliradl n>y
ear! After tiaving dethroned Lewis XllI, it uas thou
that eftabli/hed an arbitrary power in France. Since that
period, this nation has never performed any great aiflion 3
and what can be expedied from a people of flaves ?

E 4 are-
 8o Whert is the Sorbonrie P

arc tender palTions in comparifon of that hatred

w'h ch in my time inflamed the fons of Efcula-
pius. We have feen more than once, as a cer¬
tain droll expreffed it, phyfic on the point of
calling furgery to its aid.

‘‘ All is now changed ; friends, and not

rivals, they now form one body only ; they af-
foid each other mutual affiflance, and their
operations, thus united, fometimes appear almofl
miraculous. The phyfician does not difdain
to pracfife himfelf the operations that he thinks
necefTary ; when he prefcribes any reme¬
dies, be does not leave the care of preparing
them to afubaltern, who, by negligence or ig¬
norance might render them mortal; but judges
with his own eyes of the quality, the quantity,
' and manner of compounding them ; a matter of
the greated; importance, as on that the cure ab-
folutoly depends. The Tick man does not now
fee by his bed-fide three practitioners who lu-
dlcroufiy contemn each other, difpute, fneer,
and 'vatchfor feme blander of their rivals, with
which they might divert themfelves at their lei-
fure. A phyfician is no longer a compound of
the moll oppofite principles j the patient’s fto-
mach
‘1., _
 Where h the Soibonne? 8r
macli Is not now tlie fpot where the polfons of
the foiith rencounter thofe of the north ; the
beneficent juice of plants, natives of our foil,
and adapted to our temperaments, difTipate each
noxious humour without deftroying our en¬
trails.

This art is edeemed above all others ;

for they have now banifhed the fyflcmatic fpirit
and that blind rotation of pradficc, which was
as deftrudlive to mankind as the rapacity of
kings and the cruelty of their miniflers.”—I am
charmed to hear that matters arc thus ; your
phyficians appear to me highly amiable, as they
are no longer avaricious and cruel empirics,
fometimes addidlcd to a dangerous rotation of
pradlice, and fometimes, by making barbarous
experiments, prolong the fuiTerings of the Tick,
whom they at laft aiTaffinate without remorfe.
But, pray, to what floor will they go up ? — To
every floor where there is anyone in want of
then afliflance. —That s wonderful : in my
time, the mofl: eminent among them would nc-
-ver go higher than the firfl floor ; and as certrdn
fine ladies admit novihtors thatdo not wear lac'.,’d
ruffles, fo they would cure no patients that did
^ 5
32 Whc.VC iS the Soj bonne ?

not keep an equipage.—“ A phyfician among

us, who ihould be guilty of fuch inhumanity,
would lhamp an indelible difgrace on his eha-
rafter. Every one has a right to fend for them ;
they feek only to reflore health to the hek; and
if he be not able, which is rarely the cafe, to
offer a fuflicient gratuity, the hate then pro-'
vides it. Every month a regiher is made of the
fick that die or are cured; the names of the
dead are always followed by thofe of their phy-
ficians; and each one is to give an account of
his preferiptions, and juftifyhis manner of treat¬
ing the Tick. This detail is laborious ; but the
life of a man appears to us of too much impor¬
tance to omit any means of preferving it ; and
the phyncians themfelves are interefted inob-
ferving this fagacious law.

They have rendered their art more fimple,

and diveiled themfelves of many branches of
fcience that are abfolutely foreign to the art of
healing. You thought, unjuftly, that a phyfi-
cian’s head fhould contain every fcience pofTi-
bie; that he Oiould be a complete mailer of
anatomy, chemillry, botany, and the mathema-
Ucs s and though each of thefe arts require the
whole
 i

Where is the ^or bonne P 83

whole life of a man, yet your phyficians were

in no elVeem unicfs tliey were beficles men of
tafte, wit, and humour. Ours confine them-
felves to a thorough jcnowledge of difeafes, to a
critical difcernment of their feveral divifions,
and of the fymptoms that attend them, and
more particularly to the diflinguifliing of the
temperaments in general, and that of each pa-
tient in particular. They life fcarcc any of
thofe remedies called precious, or of fecret and
myfferious compofitions; they find a fmall
number of medicines fufficient; they have dif-
covered that nature adds uniformly in the vege¬
tation of plants and in the nutrition of animals*
Behold the gardener, they fay; he is defirous
that the fap, that is, the univerfal fpirit, circu¬
late equally in every part of the tree. The dif-
eafes of the plant arife from the glutinous date
of that wonderful fluid. In like manner, all
the diforders that afflidl the human race proceed
from the coagulation of the bloodand humours;
redore them to their natural dilution, and as
fooii as the circulation attains its jud courfe,
health begins to be redored (r^). This being
pie-
{a) 'Tbis IS not Jlrjfriy trueif it were, •whenever the fruid^
E 6 •ivers

<
84 Where /i the ^orhonne ?

premifed, there is no need of a very extenfivc

knowledge to attain thefe ends, for they pre-
fent themlelves to us. We conlider all the
odorif'erous plants as univerfal remedies, feeing
they abound in volatile falls, which are in the
highefl degree proper to dilute the vifcuous
blood. Thefe are the moft precious gifts of
nature for the prefervation of health. We ad-
ininifter them to all the Tick, and have conflantly
found them to elfe6l a cure {b),

Kvcrc Juficlcr.t'y diluted, the body *would be In healthy ^hicb,

unhappllyy ii by no meant the cafe.

[b) though there It Jcarce any dljeafe that may not be cured
ly the juice of plantt^ properly prepared, yet at the mof eflcacicut
1 err,edict not kncio are obtained from minerah, it nvotild be as ex-
ira-vagant totally to icjebi them as to-exclude the others^

CHAP
/

( 85 )
i'

« ' ' '

CHAP. XIV.

77v Hofpital for Inoculation,

P RAY, tell me what building is that I fee,

which Hands by itfelf, at a diftance in the
''fields?—‘‘ It is the hofpital for inocularlon ; a
pradice oppofed in your days; as were all the
good things; that were offered to you. You
muft have been egregioufly obftinate, when fuch
manifefl and repeated experiments were not
able to convince you for your own good. Had
it not been for fome ladies, more anxious for
beauty than life, and fome princes not very de-
. firous of refigning their feepters into the hands
of Pluto, you would never have ventured on
that happy difeovery. Succefs having fairly
crowned it, the homely dames were obliged to
remain filent, and they who had no diadems
were neverthelefs defirous of remaining fome
time longer here below.

“ Sooner or latter truth will prevail over the

inoft intradable fpirits. We now pradtife ino¬
culation, as they did in your time in China,
Turky,
86 - The Hofpltalfor Inoculation

Turky, and England. We are far from pro«

fcribing falutary aids becaufe they are new ; we
have not, as you had, a rage for difputation,
merely for the fake of making a hgure in the
eye of the public. Thanks to oirr indudry, and
to a fpirit of inquiry, we have difcovered many
admirable fecretS) which I have not now time
to explain to you. A profound ftudy of thofe
wonderful fimples which you trod under foot,,
has taught us the art of curing the confuinption,
the phthific, the dropfy, and other diforders,
which your remedies, of wTofe virtues you had
little knowledge, commonly made worfe; the
hygiena (^?) efpecially is fo clearly invefligated,
that each one is able to take care of his owni
health. We do not depend intirely on the phy-
fician, haw fkillful foever he may be. We ap¬
ply ourfelves to the fludyof our own tempera¬
ments, and not leave it to be guefled at by a
ftranger cn the lirfl fight. Temperance, more¬
over, that true redorative and confervative elixir,
contributes to form bodies healthful and
vigorous, and that contain minds pure and
llrong as their blood.

(a) The art of prefer'ving leaUp,

CHAP.

S
 ( 87 ) i
A

CHAP. XV.

Theology and ^tirifprudeuce^

H appy mortals ! you have then no theo¬

logians among you {a) ? I fee none of
thofe mighty volumes that feemed to be the pil¬
lars of our libraries, thofe ponderous folios, that
none but the printer, I fhould imagine, ever
read. Theology, however, is a fublime fcience,
and-As our only contemplation on the
Supreme Being is to praife and adore him in fi-
lence, without difputing on his divine attributes,
which are forever infcrutable, we have deter¬
mined never more to write on that topic ; fo
much too fublime for our intelligence. It is

(j) We Oiould not here confound the moralirts with the

the theologians j the former are the benefa(flors, the latter
the opprobium and fcourge of mankind *.

^ JJ bdt OUT author here fuyi of tkeolo^iam evidently relates

ie thofe of the church of Romey ctmong'ivbom ht linjety and of
-tvhefe frlde and tyranny he appears to banje a juft abhorrence,
had It been his good fortune to have liojed among uSy and banoe
feen that charity and brotherly kindnefsy that temperancty humili¬
ty y and contempt of au or Idly riches, Jo conjpicuous in our dicnifted
elergy, be %oouid doubtlejs hwve bad a •very different opinion of ihea,-
logians.

^ the
 i

—.^7

88 Theology and Jurlfprudence.

the foul that communicates with God, and It

has no need of foreign aids to raife itfclf up to
him [a).

All the volumes of theology, as well as

thofe of jurifprudence, are confined by large
bars of iron in the fubterraneous apartments of
the library ; and if we fhould have a war with
any neighbouring nation, inftead of attacking
them with our cannon, we fhall fend thefepef-
tiferous works among them ; Ave preferve thefe
volcanos of inflammable matter merely for the
deftruclion of our enemies, which they will

{a) Let us defcend into ourfelves, and afk cur own

minds, from whence they receive perception and thought ?
they will reveal to us their happy dependence j they will
atteft that Supreme Intelligence, from which they are no¬
thing more than feeble emanations. When the mind re-
fledfs on its own nature, it cannot divert itfelf of the idea
of that God of whom it is the offspring and image j it can¬
not doubt of its heavenly origin. This is a truth of per¬
ception that has been common to all people. The man of
fenfibiliry will be rtruck v.'ith the profpe(rt of nature, and
Twithout difficulty acknov;JecIge a munificent God, who
has in rtore for us cth.er bounties. The man void of fen-
fibility will not join to our praifes the hymn of his admira¬
tion. The heart that never loved was that of the firrt
atheift.

cer-
 Theology and Jurifpr udence, ~ 89
certainly effe6l, by incans of their fiibtlc poi-
fons, that feize at once the head the heart.’'

To live without theology, I can eafily enough

conceive ; but how without law, I can by no
means comprehend.—“ We have a jurifpru-
dence ; but different from yours, which was
both Gothic and capricious. You flill bore
the marks of your ancient fervitude ; you ad¬
opted laws that were made neither for your cuf-
toms nor your climate. As almofl every indi-
vidual became, by degrees, enlightened, they
have refo! med thofe abufes, that made of the
fan(d:uary of juflice a den of thieves. We are
aftoniOied how that foul monfler, that deflroyed
the widow and the orphan could triumph fo
long unpunilhed ; nor can we conceive how it
was poiTible for a pettifogger to pafs the ftreets
of the city without being honed by thofe he had
brought to defperation.

“ The potent arm which bears the fword

of juhice has fmote that enormous body, but
void of foul, in which were united the avidity
of the wolf, the cunning of the fox, and tlie
croaking of the raven. Their own fubalterns,
whom
90 T^hcohgy aud yur ifprudence,
<

whom they made to perilli by famine and vexa- -

tIon,wcre thehrll; to reveal their iniquities, and
to arm againfl them. Themis commanded,
and the herd difappeared. Such was the tra¬
gical end of thole rapacious vermin, who de-
ftroyed whole families by blotting of paper.”

But in my time they pretended, that without

their aid a confiderable part of the citizens
would remain idle at the tribunals, and that
the courts of juftice themfelves might pofiibly
become the theatres of licence and diforder.*—
“ They were certainly the proprietors of
ftamped paper, who talked in that manner.”-—
But how can caufes be decided without the aid,
of attornies —“ O, our caufes are decided in
the beft manner imaginable. We have referved
the order of counfellors, who know the dignity
and excellence of their inftitution, and being
Bill more difinterefted, they have become more
refpeclable. It is they who take upon them to
explain clearly and concifely the caufe of com¬
plaint, and that without vehemence or exagge¬
ration. We do not now fee a pleader, by la¬
bouring a tedious inhpul brief, though duffed
with inve^divcs, heat himfelf to a degree that
colts
/

Theology and Jurifp-udence, 91

cofts him his life. T he had man can find no

advocate among thefe defenders of equity;
their honour is anfwerable for the caufe they
undertake ; they oblige the guilty, by refufing
to defend them, to appear trembling and en¬
deavour to excufe themfelves before a court
where they have no advocate.

“ Every man now enjoys the primitive

right of pleading his own caufe. They never
fufier a procefs to have time fufficient to become
perplexed; they are inveftigated and determin¬
ed in their origin ; the longefi: time that is al¬
lowed for the developing any caufe, when it is
obfeufe, is that of a year ; the judges, more¬
over, never receive any prefents; they became
aOiamed of that difgraceful privilege, by which,'
at firff, they received but trifles, but, at lafl,
exadfed the moft enormous fums (^?); they 'were
fenflble that they thereby gave examples of ra¬
pacity ; and that if there be any cafe in which
interefl; ought not to prevail, it is in that im^

(<2) It cenfifted at firA of feme boxes of fvveetmeats 5

but now the boxes muA be filled with pieces of gold ; fo
dainty is theprefent CaAs of thofe auguA fenators, and la¬
thers of their country,

portant
g2 Theology and Jurlfprudence,

portant and awful indance where man pro¬

nounces in the facred name of juftice.’’—I find
that you have naade amazing alterations in our
laws.—Your laws ! Stop there. How could
you give that title to an indigefled mafs of con-
tradi£lory cuftoms, to thofe old diattered papers
that contained nothing but ideas without con-
neflion and grotefqiie precedencies ? How
could you adopt that barbarous mafs, in which
there was neither plan, nor validity, norobjed^;
that confided merely of a difgudful compilation,
w here genius and perfeverance were abforbed in
a noifome abyfs ? There have arofe men of
ability, of a love for the human race, and of
courage fufficient to induce them to undertake
an entire reformation, and of that capricious
mafs to form a regular and jud body of laws.

‘‘ Our kings have given all their attention

to this immenfe projecl, in which fo many
thoufands w'ere intereded. It has been acknow¬
ledged that legiflation 'was the nrd of dudies.
The names of Lycurgus, Solon, and thofe who
have followed their deps, are of all others the
mod refpedlable. The luminous point proceed¬
ed from the utmod north ; and, as if nature
would
 Theoloiy and Jurifprudence. g3

would humble our pride, it was a woman who

began that important revolution (a).

Justice has fpoke by tlie voice of nature,

fovereign legiflator, mother of virtue, and of all
that is good upon the earth ; founded on reafon
and humanity, her precepts are wife, clear,
concifc, and few. All general caufes have
been forefeen and Included in the laws. Parti¬
cular cafes have been derived from them, as
the branches that fpring from a fertile trunk ;
and equity, more fagacious than law itfelf, has
applied practical jullice to every event.

Thefe new laws arc above all things thrif¬

ty of human blood; the punilhment is propor¬
tioned to the crime ; we have difearded your
captious interrogatories, and the tortures of
confeffion, worthy of the tribunal of the inqui-
fition; and thofe horrid punilhments calculated
for a nation of cannibals. We do not put a
robber to death, becaufe we know that it would
be injuflice to murder him v/ho has never mur-

(a) They privately burned at Paris, an entire impreffion

of the code of Catharine II. except a fingle copy, that J, by
chance, faved from the flames.

dered
 94 Theology and yurifpriiderice.
N.

dered any one ; all the riches on the earth is

not equal to the life of a man ; we puniOi him
by the lofs of his liberty ; blood is rarely fpilt;
and when we are forced to flied it, as a terror to
bad men, it is done with the greatefl: folemnity.
A minifter, for example, who abufes the confi¬
dence of his fovereign, by employing the power
with which he is entrufled againft the people,
can find no pardon {a). He does not, however,
languifii in a dungeon ; the puniftiment attends
the crime ; and if a doubt arifes, we chufe ra¬
ther to fhew him mercy than to run the horrid
rilk of keeping an innocent man longer in
prifon.

A CRIMINAL, when feized, is expofed in

fetters, that he may be a public and ftriking
example of the vigilance of juftice. Over the
place of his confinement there continually re-

[a) A droll pidure that of the rife of a minifter. This

is advanced to adminidration by means of a polite copy of '
veifes i that, after having lighted the lamps, is preferred to
command a fleet, and imagines that lamps and fhips are to
be trimmed in the fame manner: another, while his father
ftill holds the yard, governs the finances, &c. It feems as if
there was a determination to put thefeonly at the head of
aflfairs who knew nothing of the matter,
mains

r’
. *
I
i

l?a.'!aSP
 Theology and Jurdfprudence, qc

mains a writing which explains the caufe of k.

W.e do not confine men, while living, in the
darknefs of the tomb, a fruitlefs punifliment,
and more horrible .than death itfelf! It is in the
public eye our prifoners fufer the fhame of
their chaftifement. Every citizen knows why
this man is condemned to imprifonment, and
that to labour at the public works. Ide whom
three chadifements docs not reform, is marked,
» not on the fhoulder, but the forehead, and ba-
nifhed for ever from his country.’^

Inform me, I entreat you, about thelettres

de cachet; what is become of that ready and in-
Mible expedient, which cut fliort all diiHcuI-
ties, and was fo convenient to pride, revem’-e,
and perfecution ?—«« If you ad: this queftion
ferioufly, replied my guide, in a fevere tone,
you offer an infult to our m.onarch, to the
nation, and myfelf. The torture and the
lettie de cachet (a) are ranked together, and
only
(a) A citizen is fuddenly fnatched from his family, from
his friends, and fociety j a piece of paper becomes an in¬
vincible thunder-bole. An order for banifliment or im-
prifonment is dtfpatched in the king’s name, and proceeds
^nerely from his will and pleafure,- it has no other au¬
thenticity

.T'CHr
g6 Theology and Jurlfprudence.

only remain to pollute the pages of your

hiftory.”

thenticity than the fign^ture of a minifter. Intendan^s

and bifhops have in their pofleflion leities de cache-t, and
have nothing to do but put in the name of any one they
wifh to dertroy j the place is left vacant. We have feen
the wretched grow old in prifon, forgot by their perfecu ^
tors, while the king has never been informed of their
crime, of their mifery, or even of their exigence.

It were to be wifhed, that all the parliaments in the

kingdom would unite againft this monftrous abufe of
power, and one that has no foundation in our laws. This
important caufe, once agitated, would become that of the
nation ; and defpotifm would be deprived of its moft for¬
midable weapon.

CHAP.
 ( 97 )

\ i
■ I
-*>

k i'

Execution of a CrhninaL

HE repeated mournful founds of a drcad-

J. fill clarion fuddenly ftruck my ear, and '■i

fcemed to murmur, to the air the names of mi-

fery and death ; the drums of the city guards
ft
went ilowlyroundjbeating the alarm ; and thefe
ominous founds, repeated by the mind, hlJed
it With a profound horror.' I faw the citizens
come forth with doleful afpecls; each one ad-
drelTed his neighbour, and lifting his eyes to
heaven, wept, andflriowed all the tokens of the
molt piercing grief. 1 afked one of them, why
tolled the funeral bells, and what accident had
happened ?
»

0^7E that is moll terrible,” he replied, with

a groan. “ Juftice this day is forced to con¬
demn a citizen to lofe his life, of which he
has rendered himfelf unworthy, by embruiiig
his murdering hands in his brother s blood.
More than thirty years have palled fince the fun
beheld a crime like this. Before the day is

1 *'
 Execution of a CrimiruiU

finifliedj he mufl: expire. O, what tears have

I died for the. fury that drove him to fuch a
blind vengeance 1 Have you heard the parti¬
culars of the crime that was committed the
night before lafl ? O grief! is it not enough
that we have loft one worthy citizen ; but muft
another fuffer death ?”—He fighed bitterly.—
‘‘ Hear, hear the ftory of that direful event,
, which has fpread over us anuniverfal lamenta-
tloin

One of our fellow-citizens, ofa fiery dii-

pofition, from his birth remarkable for pafTion,
though otherwife a man of merit, was on the
point of being married to a young woman
whom he loved to diftradlion. Her temp^^i
was as gentle as that of her lover was impe¬
tuous ; fhe flattered herfelf, however, with be¬
ing able to foften his manners ; but the many
failles of wrath that efcapedhim, notwithftand-
inr all his care to conceal them, made her
trenabje for the direful confeejuences that might
proceed from a union with a man of his violent
temper. Every woman, by our law, is abiolute
mifirefs of her perfon ; fhe therefore determin¬
ed, from a fear of being miferable, to many
 . . 99
Execulien of a Criminal,

another, who was of a charadler more conform-

ab'e to her own. The torch of thefe nuptials
fet fire to the rage of an implacable heart, which
in the tendercft years had never known mode¬
ration. He gave many private challenges to his
happy rival, who defpifed them for he knew
there was moi'c bravery in difdaining an infult,
and in ftiflinga refentment, than in yielding to
the impulfe of pafhon, in a manner that both
our laws and reafon piofcribe. The enraged
man, liftening to nothing but jealoufy, ren¬
countered the other, the day before yefterday,
in a private path without the city, and on his
refufing again to combat with him, he feized a
branch of a tree, and laid him dead at his feet.
After this horrid acl, the inhuman wretch dared
to come amongfl us ; but his crime was already
engraved on his front ; we no fooner faw him,
than we'difeovered that he was criminal, though
then ignorant of the nature of his offence. But
foon we faw feveral citizens, their checks wet
with tears, v/ho bore, withfolemn fleps, to the
foot, of the throne of juflice, the bloody corpfe
that cried for vengeance.

F2 \
At
ICO Eaecuiion of a CriminaL

At the age of fourteen, they read to us

the laws of our country. Every one is obliged
to write them with his own hand, and to make
oath that he will obferve them (a). Thefe lawa
command us to inform the police of all thofe
infraftlons that offend againft the order of fo-
ciety ; but they jntend thofe matters only that
caufea real detriment. ' We renew this facred
oath every ten years ; and without being bufy
informers, religioufly watch over the preferva-
tion of our venerable laws.

Yesterday they publifhed the monito-

rv. which is an a£l entirdy civil.' Whoever
fliould delay to declare wdiat he knew would be
branded with infamy. By this mean it is that

(j) U is fcarce robe believed, Chat the moft important

of our laws, as well civil as criminal, are unknown to the
greatefi part of the nation. It would be extremely eafy
to imprint them with a chara(5Ier of majefty ; but they are
only publiibed to thunder on the guilty, and not to excite
the citizen to virtue. The facred code of the laws is wrote
in a dry and barbarous language, and deeps among the
dud of ihe rolls. VI’ould it not be proper to clothe it with
the charms of eloquence, and by that mean render It re-
fpsdlable to the multitude ?

homi-
 Execution of a Criminal, lOI

homicide is foon difcovercd. None but a vil¬

lain, for a long time familiarifed'with guilt, can
cooly deny the crime he has juft committed ;
.and of this fort of monflers our nation is purg¬
ed*, they no longer terrify us, but in the hiftorics
of pail: ages.

‘‘ Obey, with me, the voice ofjuflice, that

calls all the people to be witnefs of its awful
decrees. It is the day of its triumph ; and,
hUal as it is, we receive it with applaufe. You
will not fee a wretch who has been plunged for
fix months in a dungeon, his eyes dazzled by
the light of the fun, h:s bones broken by a pre¬
vious and fecret punifhmefit more horrible than
that he is going to fuffer (a), advance with hi-

(a) Wretched is the ftate that refines on its penal laws.

Is not the punilhment of death fufii;ient 5 but muft man
add to its horror ? Can he be called a magiftrate who in¬
terrogates with torturing machines, and gradually ci ufhes
a wretch by a flow progrefiion of the moft horrid pangs ?
who, ingenious in his tortures, flops death, when, gentle
and chari able, it advances to deliver the vidtim ? Here
nature revolts. But if you would be more fully convinced
of the inutility of the torture, fee the admirable Treatife
on Crimes and Punifliments. I defy any pian to produce
one fclid reafon in favour of that barbarous law.

F 3 deous

fir
 102 Execution of a Criminal,

deous and dying looks,towards a fcafFoId croft¬

ed in anobrcure nook. In your time, the cri¬
minal, judged in the fecrecy of a prifon, v^as
fomctimes b oke on the wheel in the fdence of
the night, at the door of fome fleeping citizen ;
who waking with terror at the cries of the ex¬
cruciated wretch, was uncertain whether he was
fuffei ine
O
under the iron bar of an executioner,
or the fword of an affaflin. We have none of
thofe tortures that are (liocking to nature ; we
have a regard to humanity even with them who
have offended againff it. In your age, they
feemed not to be content with mierely putting
a man to death, fo little effeft the tragic feenes
had upon you, all horrible as they were, and
multiplied in cold blood. The guilty, far from
being dragged along in a iiTanner that is dif-
graceful tojudice, is net even fettered. Alas !
why fbould he be loaded with chains, when he
freely delivers himfelf up to death ? Juffice
has full power to condemn him to death, but
not to charge him with marks of ilavery. You
will fee him walk freely in the midffof fome
foldiers, who furround him merely to keep off
the multitude, \Ye have no fear that he will
a fccond time difgrace himfelf by endeavouring
to

;,''v . ■■ ,
 S»a.

Execution of a Criminal, 103

to fly fiom the terrible voice that accufes him.

Whither fliould he fly? What country, what
people would receive among them an afTaf-
fin ? and how could he ever efface that hor¬
rid mark which the hand of the Divinity im¬
prints on the front of a murderer ; the temped
of remorfe is there painted in glaring charac¬
ters \ and the eye accudomed to the afpedf of
virtue willeafily didinguifh thephyfiognorny of
guilt. How, in fhort, can he ever be free \A ho
feels the immenfe weight that prefles upon his
licart

WE arrived at a fpacious place that furround-

ed the palace of judice. Along the front of the
hall of audience there ran a large night of deps.
It v/as on this kind of amphitheatre that the fe-
nate aflembled on public affairs, in the fight of

ia) They fay that Europe is civilifec) p and yet a man

who has committed a muider, or made a fraudu¬
lent bankruptcy, can retire to London, Madrid, Lifbon,
Vienna, &c and thcie peaceably enjoy the fiuits of his
iniquity Among fo many puerile treaties, can they not
ftipula e, that the murderer (hall no where findanafy-
lum ? Is not every ftate and every man interefled in his
punifhment ? But monarchs will as foon agree on the de-
ftrudion of the Jefuiis.

r 4 the

- rri* vi.
104 Execuiion of a Criminal,

the people; it was under their infpeftion that

it chofe to tranfaft the moft important affairs of
the nation; the numerous body of citizens there
aiTembled infpired them with fentiments worthy
of the augult concerns committed to their care.
The death of a citizen was a calamity to the
ftate. The judges failed not to give their fen-
tence all that folemnity, all that importance it
deferved. The order of advocates were on one
fide, conftantly ready to plead for the innocent,
but filent in the caufe of the guilty. On the
other fide, the prelates, accompanied by the
paftory, bare-headed, filently invoked the God
of Mercy, and edified the people, fpread in
crowds over all the place (^7).
. The

{a) Our form of juAice does not command awe, but ex¬
cites difguA. It is an odious and (hocking figlit to fee a
man take off his laced hat, lay down his fword on the
fcafiold, mount the ladder in a fuit of (ilk or lace, and
dance indecently on the body of the wretch that is hang¬
ing. Why not give the executioner that formidable afped^
he ought to fiiew ? To what purpofe is this cold barbarity^?
The laws thereby lofe their dignity, and the puniAiment
its terror. The judge is ftiil more fprucely powdered than
the hangman. Shall I here declare the fenfations that I
have felt ? I have trembled, not for the criminal’s of¬
fence, but for the horrid unconcern of all thofc that fur-
rounded
 Execution of a CriminaL IC^
The criminal appeared ; he was drefTed in
a bloody fliirt; he beat nis breafl, and fliewed
all
rounded him. There has been none but that generous
man who reconciled the unfortunate finner to the Supreme
Being, who afTifted him in drinking (he cup of death, that
appeared to me to have any remains of humanity. Do we
only wifli to deflroy mankind ? Are we Ignorant of the art
of terrifyingthe imagination without violence to humanity?
Learn at length, thoughtlefs and cruel men,learn to be judges,
learn bow to prevent crimes j conciliate what is owing to
the law with what is owing to man. I have not the power
to fpeak here of the fe artful tortures that fome criminals
have fufFered, who feem to have been referved, fo to fay,
for a privileged punifhment. O difgrace to my country !
the eyes of that fex which feems made for pity remained
the longed: fixed on that feene of horrors, Lee us draw
the curtain. What can I fay to thofe who underhand me
not ? f

'I' The author here evidently refn to 'zvhat is improperly

called the breaking on the nvheel j for the criminal is pretched
nakedf except a cloth that goes round his ivaip, upon t^vo planks,
in the form of ivhat is called St, Andre'tv s Cfc/sj and then the
executioner^ nvitb an iron bar^ breaks all the bones of his armsy his
legSy and thighs, A cruel punifhmenty the reader ’ivill jay j hut it
is trifang to n.vhat he has to juffer for he is then laid, ^lih his
face upwardy on a jmall n.vheel, about as nuide as the length of ids
body only, and is trufj'ed up like a fo<ivI for the /pit j his broken
legs and thighs are brought back to his arms, and be is bound
round 'With cords, hard as a merchant binds a bale of goods that
is to go a long voyage, till the ropes cut into the jlefb, and thus
F 5 left

14%
lo6 ExeiUiion of a CrlininaL

rJl the marks of*a fincere repentance. His vH

lage, however, expreffed nothing of that dread¬
ful embarralTment fo unbeeoming a man, who
ought to know how to die when neeeirity calls,
and efpeeiaily when he merits death. They
made him pafs by a fort of cage, v^here, they
told me, the body of the murdered man was

left, •with his head hanging backwards uff the wheel, to expire
by agonies ; while the gay, polite Parijiar.s throng from every
quarter to behold a fight that is a difyrace to their capital, to
their country, and to mankind j and while the fofter fex, as
the author fa\s, gaxe f>'oin the windows with infatiable ettriof-
ty, Tfhis punifoment foews how frong the powers of life are in
fame men \ what tortures human nature is capable of fuftaining.
One would imagine that a man could live but a very port time in
fuch a fituation 5 but the wretch I faw, who if as joung, and ef
a vi orous confitution, was placed on the wheel about fix in the
evening j at four the react morning, he complained of tbirf,. and
drink was given him j about an hour after, he expired.

On revifnr this it occurred to me that the hard binding

With robes may be humanely intended to porten the crtmiinal s
tortures by flopping the circulation:, fo when the executioner
jumps on the pouldp's of tJot man that is hanging, he certainly
intends, and does, in many infances, porten his fferings,
Doubtlefs too, a great part of the fpcblators are carried to thefe
executions by a dejire to fympathife in the criminal's fperings 5

as. when a pip is in difrefs, the fondgnother f:es to the fea-

pore, amd while pe f rains her infant to the breaf, cemmife-
talcs their calamity, though utterly unahU to relieve them.

ex-
 A
Execution of a CrhmnaJ. 107
4-

expofed. On his near approacli, he was feized

with luch Anolent remorfc, that they fuOcred
him to retire. He approached the judges, and
put one knee to the ground, to kifs the facred
volume of the law. It was then opened to him,
and they read, with a loud voice, the fentence
relative to homicides; they placed the book be¬
fore him, that he might read it ; he then fell
on his knees, and confefled his guilt. T he
head of the fenatc, mounting a platform that
was prepared for him, read his condemnation
with a drong and majeflic voice. All the coun-
fellors, as well as the advocates, who were
danding, then fat down, by which they de¬
clared that no one of them would undertake Itis
defence.

When" the head of the fenate had done

reading, he deigned to ffretch out his hand to
the criminal, and raife him up ; he then fuid.
Nothing now remains for you but to die
with iirmnefs, and obtain your pardon of God
and ot men. We do not hate you ; we grieve
for you, and your memory will not be held in
detedation by us. Obey the law with chcar-
fulnefs; and revere its falutary rigour. Our
r 6 tears
loS Bxicutlon of' a GriminaL

tears bear witnefs that afTcelion will take place

ill our hearts, when jullice fliall have accom-
pliflied her fatal decrees. Death islefs dreadful
than ignominy. Submit to the one, to avoid
the other. It is ftill in your power to choofe.
If you will live, you may ; but it mull be in
difgrace, and loaded with our indignation.
You will behold the fun conflantly upbraiding
you with having deprived your fellow-being
of his genial and brilliant rays ; to you they
will be hateful,^ as they will only difcover thofe
difdainful looks wdth which all men regard an
aiTalTin. You will bear about with you every
where the load of your remorfe, and the eter¬
nal fliame of having refufed to fubmit to that
jufl law which has condemned you. Do juftice
to fociety, and condemn yourfelf
The

{a) They who are inverted with a power that gives

them authority over mankind ought to take great heed how
*

they treat them merely according to their own demerits 5

they rtiould regard every criminal as a wretch more orlefs
ioTane j they fhould therefore treat them as beings who,
by fome unknown caufe, have been led out of the right
path. Even when the judge pronounces condemnation
with majerty, he fhould fecretly lament that he cannot
fereen the criminal from purirtirnent, To tertify vice by
thjjmort awful apparatus of jurtice, and privately to re-
' claim
 Execution of a Crlminah ’109

The criminal bowed his head ; by wljicli

he declared that he judged himfelf deferving of
death {a). He immediately prepared to lubmit
with conflancy, and with that refignation which,
in our laid moments, is fo highly becoming of
humanity {b). He was no longer regarded
as guilty; the body of pallors furrounded
him; the prelate, taking off the bloody fhirt,
clothed him in a while veftment, which was the
token of his reconciliation with mankind, and
gave him the kifs of peace. His friends and re¬
lations crowded to embrace him ; he appeared
fatisfied by receiving their careffes, and by be¬
ing veiled with that garment, which was a
proof of the pardon he received from his coun¬
try. Thofe teftimonies of friendfhip took from

claim the guilty, lliould be the two grand points of crimi¬

nal jurifprudence.

{a) Propitious confcience, thou equitable and ready

judge, be never abfent from me I Tell me conHantJy,
that I cannot do the leaft injury to another withoat receiv¬
ing the counter-flroke ; that I muft neceflarily wound
myfelf, when I wound another,

[h) iAgefilaus feeing a malefactor endure punilhment

with unconcern,O wicked man,” he faid, “ to make
fo bad a ufe of fortitude,*’

liim
I 10 Execution of a CrlminaL

him the horrors of approaching death. The

prelate, advancing toward the people, feized
that moment to make a nervous and pathetic
difcourfe on the danger of pafiion ; it was fo
eloquent, fo jidl and alTecling, that every heart
was filled with admiration and terror. Each
one rcfolved to watch carefully over his tem¬
per, and to llifle thofe feeds of refentmerit,
which iiicreafe in a manner unknown to our-
felves, and foon produce the moil unbridled
pafiion s.

During this interval, a deputy from the

fenate bore the fentence of death to the mon¬
arch, that he might fign it with his own hand;
for no one could be put to death without his
confent, as in him refided the power of the
fword. That good father would gladly have
fpared the life of the criminal {a) ; but, in that
moment, he facrificed the carnefi; defire of his
heart to the neceffity of an exemplary jufiice.

(i?) I am forry that our kings have renounced that an¬

cient and wife cuAom. When tliey fign fo many papers,
wl:y rtaould they negled one of the moR auguft privileges
of their crown ?

The
 Execution of a Criminal. Ill
\

The deputy returned. Idicn again the

bells of the city began their funeral tolls, the
drums repeated their mournful march, and thofe
deploring founds meeting in the air with the
groans ol the numerous people, one would
have thought that the city was on tlic brink of
an univerfal dedriuftion. The friends and re¬
lations of the unfortunatie man going to meet
his death gave him the lafl embrace ; the pre¬
late Invoked, wich a loud voice, the forgive-
nefs of the Supreme Being, and the vaulted
roof of heaven refounded with the fupplications
of the whole people, who cried, with one
mighty voice, O Almighty GoeC receive his
foul! O God of Mercy him^ even as we
forgive hbn!''^

They condu6fed him, with flow fleps, to

the cage I have mentioned, flill furrounded by
his friends. Six fufileers, their faces covered
with crape, advanced ; the head of the fenate
gave the fignal, by holding up the book of the
law y they bred, and the foul difappeared {a).
They
[a] I hav€ frequently heard It debated, whetlier the
perfon oi an exetutioner be iinfanious, I have always been
cen-
112 Execution of a CriminaU

They took up the dead body. His crime being

fully expiated by his punifbment, he was again
received into the clafs of citizens ; his name,
that had been clFaced, was infcribed again in
the public regifter, with the names of thofe
who had died the fame day. This people had
not the cruelty to purfue the memory of a man
even to his tomb; and to refleft on a whole in¬
nocent family the crime of an individual (n) ;
they did not find pieafure in difhonouring, with¬
out caufe, ufeful citizens, and make menmife-
*
rable, for the fatisfaction of making them hum¬
ble. His body was carried to be burned with¬
out the city, with his fellow-citizens, who, the
preceding day, had paid the inevitable debt to
nature •, his relations had no other grief to en¬
counter than that which arofe from the lofs of a
friend. The fame evening, a place of truft
and honour becoming vacant, the king con¬

cerned when they have given it in his favour, and could

never have a rerpe(Sl for thofe who ranked him with the
clafs of other citizens. I may be wrong ; but fuch is my
(Opinion.

(a) Bafe and defpicable prejudice, that confounds all

notions of juflice, is contrary to reafon, and only calcu¬
lated for a weak or wicked people,
ferred
 Execuilon of a Crhnlnal, i: 5

ferrecl it on the brother of the criminal ; and

every one applauded a choice that was dictated
by equity and beneficence.

With a heart full of tendernefs and com mi-

feration, I faid, O, how is humanity refpecled
among you! The death of a citizen is the caufe
of univerfal mourning to his country.—‘‘ It is
becaufe our Jaws,” they replied, “ are wife
and humane; they are calculated more for re¬
formation than for chaftifement; the way to
\

intimidate vice is not to render punifihment

common, but formidable; it is our fludy to
prevent crimes; we fend the refraclory to places
of folitude, where they are attended by thofe
who endeavour to bring them to repentance,
who operate'by degrees on their hardened
hearts, and gradually difplay the refined charms
of virtue, to whofe attradlions the mofl deprav¬
ed of mortals are not infenfible. Does the
phyfician at the firfi; attack of a violent fever
abandon his patient ? Why, therefore, fhould
we defert the guilty, who may yet be recovered ?
There are few hearts fo corrupted, as not to be
reflored by perfeverance 5 and a little blood,
properly poured forth, cements our tranquility
and our happinefs.
Your
IV

114 Execution of a CrimmaL

“ Your penal laws were all made in favour

of the rich ; all fell on the head of the poor ;
gold v/as become the god of nations ; cdicls
and gibbets furrounded all poiTefrions; and ty¬
ranny, with fword in hand, bartered the clays,
the fweat and blood of the unfortunate j it
made no diflincllon in chafbfements, and there¬
by taught the people to make none in crimes ;
it punifhed the lead offence as the miod infa¬
mous villainy, What was the confequence?
The multiplying of laws multiplied crimes,
and the offenders became as inhuman as their
judges. Legiflation, v/hen it attempted to unite
the members of fociety, drew the bands fo tight
as to throw it into convulfions; and, inftead of ^
miaintaining, dedroyed the conne6lions 3 mourn¬
ful humanity fent forth the cry of grief, and^ftw
too late, that the tortures of the executioner
never infpire virtue

(a) When we examine ihe validity of that, right which

human focletles have afTumed of punifhing with death,
we are terrified at the imperceptible point which feparates
equity from injuflice. It is to liitlc purpofe here tliat we ac¬
cumulate arguments j all our lights ferve but to lead uj a-
ftray.j we muft return to the law of nature only, which has
far more regard than our inftitutions, for tlie life of a man;
that teaches us, that the law of retaliation is, of all others,
the

- iMLBaffjwwiaML.LgJtJaBPi
 Execution of q CriniinaL 115
the moft conformable to right reafon. Among rifing go¬
vernments, which have yet the fjgnaiure of nature, thet«
is fcarce any crime puniilied with death. In the cafe of
murder there is no doubt j for nature tells us, that we
(li ould arm ourfelves agaioft alTafTins j but in the cafe of
robbery, the inhumanity of inflidling death is notorious;
it is a punirt)ment th.at bears.no proportion to the crime j
and the voice of millicns of men, worrtiippers of gold,
can never make that authentic, which is in its nature in¬
valid. It Will be faid, “ The robber made a conirad with
me to be puniflied with death if he invaded my property
but no man has a right to make fuch a contiadl, as it is
unjuft, barbarous, and fenfeltfs j unjuft, as his life is
not his own 5 barbarous, as no p'oportion is obfervtd j
and fecfelefs, as it is incomparably more eligible that two
men live, than that one of them thould enjoy fomcexclu-
fi'e or fupeifluous property.
h
This note, fays the author, is taken from a good novel, r,-

intitled The Vicar of Wakefield.

* Not^ithjiandinr^vhat is here faid, thispojltton certainly

admits cf doubt, at leaji. The ends of punipment are three j to
redrefs the injured, to reform the offender, and to deter others, .1
neither the murderedy nor his reprejentatinoey can recei’ve t \

any redrefs from the death of the offender 5 and 'With regard to
the other tuco endsy / think it 'iviil appeary upon a cloje infpec-
■ f
tioriy that there are many continued puirijhinents, ivithout ha'ving
fecourje to hai haritieSy that •zvoiild be far more efficacious, }h\
cannot he too cautious in dtprinjing our fellonv creatures of that
'which God alone can gi'vCy and 'which, it feems to me, he alone
has the right to take a'way.
‘4

C II Ai P.
 ( i>6 )

CHAP. XVII.

Not fo far off as we thought.

W E converfed a long time on tbis im¬

portant fubjecl; but as we became
earneftly engaged, and our debate wanted that
fcrenity which is fo necellary in an inquiry af¬
ter truth, I thus bluntly interrupted my learned
companion : Tell me, I befeech you, what is.
become of the Molinifts and Janfenifts ? He
, anfwered me with a loud burft of laughter; I
could get nothing elfe from him. But, pray,
anfwer me, I faid ; here flood the Capuchins,
there the Cordeliers, a little farther on the Car¬
melites. What is become of thofc frocked gen¬
try, with their fandals, their beards, and their
difciplines I

“We no longer fatten, in our ftate,’’ he

faid, “ a fet of automatons, as troublefome to
themfelves as to others, who make a foolifh vow
never to be men, and hold no conneclion with
thofe that are. We thought them, however,
more worthy of pity than reproach. Engaged
frorii
 Not fo far off as we thought, 117

from the moft tender age, in a ftate of which

they were ignorant, it was the laws that were
culpable, in permitting them blindly to pro ft i-
tute that liberty of which they knew not the va¬
lue. Thofe reclufe beings, whofe manfions of
retreat were ereefted with pomp in the midfl; of
a tumultuous city, perceived, and gave them-
feives up by degrees to the charms of fociety ;
when they beheld happy fathers, united bre¬
thren, and tranquil families, they regretted
their not being able to participate of that hap-
pinefs. They fighed in fecret over that fatal
moment, when they abjured a life of all others
the mod: pleafing, and curfed each other like
galley-flaves at the oar [a) ; while tliey longed
for the hour that fliould open their prifon
doors. It was not far diftant, the yoke was
thrown off without danger or difficulty ; for
the hour was then come : juft as we fee the

(a) All thofe religious houfes, where men are crowded

together, teem with inteftine wars j they are ferpents that
prey upon each other in obfeurity. A monk is a cold and
morofe animal 5 the ambition of advancing himfelf in his
corps makes him felfifh ; he has leifure fufficient to reflea
on his plan, and his concentered ambition has a gloomy
turn j when he once gets the commarid, he is by nature
rougli and inexorable,

ripe
Ii8 Not fo far off as we thought,

ripe fruit fall from the branch by the leaf!

touch {a), liTuing forth in crowds, with the
higheil demonldrations of joy, they became,
all haves as they had been, initantly men*

Those robufl monks (Z»), in whom feemed

to be revived the vigour of the prifline ages of
the world, their fronts glowing with love and
joy, efpoufed thofe panting doves, thole fanefi-
lied virgins, who, under the monadic veil, had
more than once lighed for a flate lefs holy and
more pleajing(r) ; they performed the devoirs
of
(ti) In matters of public admlniftration, there fhould b£
no violent flsock ; nothing is more dangerous. Reafon
and time produce the greateft events, and fix on them an
indelible fiamp.
[b) Luther, thundering with his fiery eloquence againft
the nionafiic vows, afierts, that it was as impofiible to
keep that o? continence as to change our fex*.

(c) What a cruel fuperftitlon, to confine in a facred pri-

fon fo many young beauties, who conceal all the fires pet-
rnitted to their fex, which an eternal confinement redou¬
bles, and even to the producing thofe confiirSfs they have

* Luther, it is like, judged from hi mjeif. There are, how-

c^i’cr, great r.ujnbers of men, who, from an ill-natured conflitu-
tion, are. under no fort of tem^ation (q- break the ntew of conti¬
nence from women,
with
 I

Not jo far off' as we thought. 119

of Hymen with an. edifying fc;vour, and pro¬

duced an offspring worthy of fo fair a lineage ;
their
with each other f, To have a juft fenfatlon of all the mi-
feriee of a heart that devours itfelf, we ftioul-l be in its
place. Timid, credulous, abufccl, intoxicated by e pom¬
pous enthufiafm, a girl believes for a long time, an God]
and religion abforb all her thoughts j in the midft of the
tranfports of her zeal, nature awakens in her heart that in¬
vincible, and to her unknown, power, and makes herfub-
mit to its imperious yoke. Thefe fires, once liehted uo
make havock among her fenfes; fhe burns in the calm of
her retreat 5 fhe combats, but her conftancy is overcome j
file biufhes and defires ; file looks round her, and finds her-
‘feh furrounded with infurmountable barriers, while all her
being is carried with violence toward an ideal objeeft, that
her heated imagination has adorned with frefh ch.a:ms.
From tliat moment, adieu repofe. She was born for a
happy fertility j an eternal chain confines her, and con¬
demns her to ftc'ihty and mifery. She then difeovers, that
the law has deceived her j that the yoke which deftroys li¬
berty is not the yoke of God 5 and that the religion, to which
fhe is irrevocably bound, is the enemy of nature and of rea-
fon. But to what purpofe are her forrows and complaints ?
Her tears and her fighs are loft in the filence of the night j

i" ohjenre, and as I kno^v not

•zvcll how to make it more explicit, I Jhall here give the words
Mfthe original. ‘‘ Quelle cruelle fuperftition enchaine dans
une prifon facree tant des jeunes beautes, qui recelent tous
les feux permis a leur fexe, que redouble encore une clo¬
ture eternelle, et jufqu’aux;combats qu’elks felivrent.’*

. the

. I
i:

120 Not fo far off ai ive thought,

\

their happy and rofy hufbands were no longer .

follicitous for the canonization of fome rotten
bones ; they contented themfelves with being ,
good fathers and good citizens ; and, I firmly
believe,are as likely to go to heaven after death,
as if they* had made a purgatory of the prefent
life.

‘‘ It Is true, that, at the time it happened,

this reformation appeared to the bifiiop of Rome
fometliing extraordinary \ but he foon had fe-
rious affairs of his own to manage.”—Vv^ho do
you call the bifiiop of Rome ?—Him whom
you called the pope 5 but, as 1 obferved before,
we have changed many Gothic terms; \ve no
longer know what are canonicates, bulls, be-
fices, and bifiiopricks of an immenfe revenue [a) j

the burning poifon that ferments in her veins defirojs her

beauty, corrupts her blood, and leads her, with precipi¬
tate Aeps, to the grave ; glad thither to defcend, fne opons
herfclf the tomb, where all her griefs are loft in peaceful
fiumbers.
(j) I cannot fee without horror, ecclefiaftic princes, fur-
rounded by all the pomp of luxury, fmile difdainfully at
public miferies, and prefume to talk of morals and leligion
in their dull mandates, wrote by fome curate’s journeyman,
and whichinfult common fenfe with fcandalous effrontery.

I I we

■■■
 . Not fo far off as we thought. 121

we do not go to kifs the flipper of the fucceflbr

of an apofUe, to whom his mafler gave no
other-examples than thofe of humility ; and as
that apodle recommended poverty, as well by
his example as his precept, we no longer fend
our pure gold, fo neceflary to the flate, to pur-
chafe indulgences, of which that good magi^
cian was very liberal. All thefe matters gave
him at firfl: fome difgurt:; for we do not love to
part with our privileges, even though they he
fomewhat illegitimate ; but he foon found that
his true heritage was in heaven : that his kinu-
dom was not of this world ^ and that all earthly
riches were vanities, as are all things beneath
the fun.

Time, whofe invifible and filent hand

undermines the loftiefl towers, has laid that
fuperb and incredible monument of human
credulity in the dufl; {a) ; it fell without tu¬
mult ; its flrength was in opinion ; opinion
changed, and all exhaled in frnoke. So wc

(a) The mufti, among the Turks, extends his infal¬

libility even to hifloric fadls. He thought proper, in the
reign of Amurat, to declare all thofe heretics who did not
believe that the fultan went into Hungary,

VoL. I. G fome-
T

122 Not fo far off' as we thought,

fometimes behold nothing but a tranhent vapour,

where late was feen a tremendous conflagration.

“ A PRINCE worthy to govern, rules over that

part of Italy, and that ancient Rome has again
beheld her Cicfars; by that word I refer to
Titus and Marcus Aurelius, not to thofe mon-
fters who bore a human face. That fine
country is reanimated fince it has been
cleanfed from thofe lazy vermin that throve in
filth. That kingdom now holds its proper rank,
bears a lively and exprefilx^e afpe£l, after hav¬
ing been wrapped up, for more than feventeen
centuries, in ridiculous and fuperflitious rags,
which flopped its breath, and deprived it of all
power of utterance,
 ■( ' 123 )

CHAP. XVIIL

The Minijlers of Peace,

P ROCEED, thou charming Inflruftor [

This revolution, you fay, was made in
the mofl peaceful and happy manner.—It
was the work of philofophy ; it a^Ied without
nolle, and, like nature, with a force the more
certain, as it was inlenlible.”-—But I have many
difficulties to propofe; there muft be a religion. i '
—Without doubt,he replied with warmth.
Alas ! where is the man fo ungrateful as to
remain dumb in the midfl; of the miracles of crea- '
tion, under this brilliant firmament ofheaven ?
We adore the Supreme Being ; but the worfliip vi
we render him caufes no diforder nor debate;
we have but few minifters, and they are wife,
experienced, and friends to toleration ; they
are free from the fpirit of faction, and therefore
more beloved and refpedted ; they are only ■-
follicitous to lift up pure hands toward the
throne of the Father of mankind ; they are be- -
neficent toall, In imitation of God, abundant i 'l
in goodnels; the fpirit of peace and concord |
G 2 anio

• ♦
/24 ^he Mintjlers of Peace*
\

animates their aflions as well as their precepts;

they are therefore univerfally beloved. We
have, moreover, a holy prelate, who lives with
his pallors, as with his brethren and" his equals.
Thefe fundlions are not alTumed by any, till
they are forty years of age; for not till then are
the turbulent palTions at refl ; and reafon, fo
How in man, exerts its peaceful empire. Their
exemplary life difplays the highell degree of
human virtue ; it is they that comfort the af-
fii(fted ; that point out to the unhappy a merci¬
ful God, who watches over them, and will one
day recompence their fufferings. They fearch
out poverty when concealed under the cloak of
fhame, and adminilter relief without compel-
ing it to blufh ; they reconcile adverfe tempers
by the words of gentlenefs and peace; the mod
inveterate enemies embrace in their prefence,
and all the ulcers of their hearts become in-
ftantly healed. Jn a word, they fulfil all the
duties of men who prefumes to fpeak in the
name of an Eternal Mailer.”

I AM highly pleafed to hear of minillers like

thofe, I replied; but have you a fet of men pe¬
culiarly confecrated to repeat at all hours of the
day,
 Minijlers of Peace* 125

day, with a nafal twang, canticles, pfalms, and

hymns ? Does any one among you afpire to
canonization ? How do you celebrate that
rite ? Who are your faints ?—“ Our faints !
You doubtlefs mean thofe who purfue the
highefl degree of perfe6lion, who are elevated
above human Aveaknefs. Yes ; we have men
of that celeflial temper; but you will eafily be¬
lieve that they do not lead an obfciire and foll-
tary life ; that they do not make a merit of faff¬
ing, of chanting bad latin, or of remaining
dumb and flupid all their days ; it is in the
fight of the world that they difplay the forti¬
tude, the conffancy of their fouls; they charge
themfelves, by choice, with the mofl painful
..labours, and fuch as are difguftful to other
men; they think that good and charitable works
are to the Deity more grateful than prayer
alone.

‘‘If men, for example, are wanting to

clean the ftreets, or repair the highways, they
readily offer themfelves; they undertake the
moff dangerous as well as the meaneff employ¬
ments, as to carry water through the flames to
extinguifh a fire, and walk over the burning
G 3 planks j
126 27y'^ MiniJUTs of 'Peau,

planks ; or to plunge into a river, to fave the

life of a man ready to perilh, &c. Thefe ge¬
nerous vidiins to the public good are filled,
animated by an aftive fpirit, by the grand and
fiiblirne idea of being ufeful members of fociety,
and of alleviating the miferies of others. They
make a duty of thefe occupations with as much
pleafure as if they were perfectly eafy and en¬
gaging j their a£fions are altogether direfted
by humanity and the love of their country, and
never by felf-intereft. Some conftantly attend
the bed of the lick, and adminifler relief; while
others defeend into the mines, and perform all '
the laborious offices of thofe regions, fo that you
v.*ould take them to be flaves bowing under the
iron yoke of fome tyrant; but the defign of their
beneficent fouls is to pleafe the Eternal by ferv-
ing their brethren. Infenfible to prefent mife¬
ries, they look forward to that reward which
God has in ftore for them, as they do not facri-
fice the pleafures of this world to a capricious
bigotry, but to a real utility.

It is needleft to tell you that we refpeft

them during their lives and after their deaths ;
and as our moll lively acknowledgements would
be
 The Minijlen of Peace» 127

be infufficicnt, we leave it to the Author of all

good to difeharge that immenfe debt, being
perfuaded that he alone knows the juft meafure
of merited rewards.

Such are the faints that we venerate, with¬

out fuppofing any thing more than that they
have extended human nature, of which they are
the glory, to its higheft perfedlion: they perfoim
no other miracles than thofe I have mentioned.
The martyrs to Chriftianity had certainly their
merit; it was doubtlefs very commendable to
brave the tyrants of the mind ; to fulfer the mod
horrible deaths, rather than facrifice thofe fenti-
ments that the head and the heart had adopted.
But how much more true greatnefs is there in
rendering ourfelves the perpetual benefaflors to
afflicted humanity, to dry up every tear, and to
flop or prevent the cfFufion of a fingle drop of
blood {a)f
‘‘ These
{a) A counfellor of parliament, in the laft century,
gave all his fortune to the poor, and then went about beg¬
ging for them. He met a farmer-general in the ftreet ; he
attacked and followed him, faying, ** Give me fomething
for my poor people, fomething for my poor people.’*
The tax-gatherer refufed, and replied in the ufual tone,
** 1 have nothing for them j fir, I have nothing for them.”
The counfellor would not quit hifi j he argued and en-
G 4 treated
128 The ATmiflers of Peace,

“ These wonderful men do not offer their

manner of living as a model to others ; they do
not glory in their heroifm ; they do not debafe
themfelves to be exalted by the public ; and
lead of all do they rail at the defends of their
neighbours, but are much more folllcitous
to procure them happy lives by their innumer¬
able labours. When one of thefe exalted fouls
rejoins that All-perfecl Being, from whom it is
an emanation, we do not enclofe the corpfe
in a metal dill more worthlefs \ we write the
hidory of his life, and endeavour to imitate it,
at lead In fome degree.”—The farther I ad¬
vance, the more unexpedled alterations I per¬
ceive.—You will yet fee many others. If a
great number of pens did not atted the fame
matters, we fiiould certainly call in doubt th«
hidory of your age. Was it pofiible } Could
the fervants of the altar be riotous, caballers,
perlecutors F Could a fet of miferable reptiles
hate and perfecute each other during the fhort

treated 5 he followed him quite to his hotel, and up to his

apartment, continually interceding; for his poor people.
The brutal hoarder of millions, at lalt enraged, gave him
a blow on the ear. “ Very well,” faid the counfcllor,
that is fomething for me and my poor people,”

fpace
 The Minijleri of Peace, 129

fpace of their lives, becaufe they chanced

to think differently on certain vain fubtilties,
or matters that are by their nature incom-
prehenfible? Thofe weak wretches, it feenis,
bad the audacity to found the defigns of
the Almighty, and to make them quadrate
with their ignorance, their pride, and their
folly.

‘‘ I have read, that they who had the lead:

charity, and confeqiiently the lead; religion,
\vere they that preached to others; that the
number of thofe who bore that lucrative habit,
the pledge of a continued idlenefs, was become
incredible; and, to conclude, that they lived in
an infamous celibacy (a). They fay, more¬
over, that your churches refembled the public
market-place ; that they were equally offenfive
to the fight and the fmell ; and that your cere¬
monies were calculated rather to diftradl the
mind, than to elevate it to God-But I hear
the facred trump, whofe pleading founds

^ (a) What a leprofy in a ftate is a numerous clergy, that

make a public profefTion to know no wives but thofe of
other men i
IV ».

130 77;^ ^Minifiers tf Peaa*

announce the hour of prayer. Come with

me, and behold our religion v let us go to
the neighbouring temple, and offer our thanks
to the Creator, for having once more beheld
the rifing fun.’’
 ll
( I JI )
✓

CHAP. XIX.

r H E TEMPLE.

W E turned the corner of a ftreet^ and

I perceived in. the midft ofafpacious
place a circular temple crowned with a magni¬
ficent dome. This edificCj fupported by a (in¬
gle range of colomns, had four grand portals ;
on the front of each was written, The Temple of
God. Time had already imprinted a venerable
complexion on its walls, from which it received
an additional majefty. When I arrived at the
door of this temple, what was my furprife, to
read the four following lines- in large char
rasters :

Loin de rein decider fur cet Eire Suprhne-

Gardons^.enVodorant^ unftlenceprofondi
Sa nature ef Immenfe etd^ejprli s'y confond;
Pour favolr ce qiill ejiflfaut etre. lul-nieme^

In awful filence let us God adore.

Nor ever dare his nature to explore

G - &. TIa

X
 *32 n'e Tmple.

Po fcarcli thofe boundlefs powers, by rnan

were vain,
WhicQ nought but boundlefs wifdom can
explain.

, O, by the way, I faid in a low voice, you can¬

not affert that this is of your age.—It is no
commendation to yours,” he replied, for
your theologians fhould have flopped there.”
I his reply, which feems to have proceeded
from tne Divinity itfelf, has lain confounded
among verlcs, of which very little account was
made: I know, not, however, if there be any
more excellent, for the fenfe they contain; and,
I think, they are here very properly applied.

We followed the people, who, with thought¬

ful looks, and tranquil, modefl fleps, advanced
toward the interior part of the temple. They
all took their feats, in turn, on rows of flools ;
the men feparate from the women. The altar
was in the center ; it was totally unadorned, and
each one could diflinguifh the priefh who burn¬
ed the incenfe. At the moment he pronounced
the facred hymns, the choir of affiflants alter¬
nately elevated their voice; their fweet and gentle
4 founds
 The Temple. ' *3J

. founds exprefled the avvM feiitlments of thdr

liearts; theyfccmed filled with the Divine Ma-
jelty. There were no paintings, no ftatues, no
allegorical figures to be feen (^)j the facred
name of God, a thoufand times repeated, and
in different languages, was fpread over all the
walls ; all declared the unity of the Godhead ;
' all foreign ornaments were rigouroufly baniih-
cd ; in a word, God alone pofleffed his temple.
■ I

When I lifted my eyes to the fiimmit of this

teiyiple, I faw the face of heaven ; for the dome
was not covered with flone, but the cleared:
glafs. Sometimes a ferene and lucid fky an¬
nounced the complacency of the Creator;
fometimes dark clouds, that poured down in
torrents, recalled to the mind the dark vale of
life, and told us that this dull earth is but a
place of exile ; the thtinder anounced, how ter¬
rible is God, when offended ; and the calm that
fucceeded to the flafhing lightnings declared,
that contrition unarms his avenging hand ; but

(^) The Proteftants are in the right; all thofe works of

men difpofe the people to idolatry. To exprefs an invifi-
b!e and prefent Deity, the temple (hould contain him
alone.

when
 r34 l:he Temple..

ivhen the breath offering poured down its Balmy'

ftreams, then every heart was impreffed with;
that falutary and comfortable truth, that thc-
treafures of the divine clemency are inexhauft-
ihle*. Thus the feafons and the elements,
whofe voice is fo eloquent to thofe who can.
comprehend it, fpoke to this difcerning people, ,
and difplayed- to them the Author of the uni-
verfe under all his various relations {a).

There were here no difcordant founds s.

even the voice of the infant was taught to join
the majeftic choir y there was no profane or'
frifky mufic ; the organ alone^ whicli was far
from being clamorous, was accompanied by.
the voice of the numerous people, and feemed
the fong of immortals, who joined thefe public
orifons ; no one entered or went out during the
time of prayer; no burly Swifs, no troublefome
beggar, interrupted the adoration of the faithful
fupplicantsj, the whole people were ftruck with

{a) Afavage wandering through the woods, contem¬

plating heaven and earth, and difeovering, fo to fay, the-
only Mafter that he knows, comes nearer to the true reli¬
gion than the Carthufian, buried in his cell, and convert
ing with none.but the phantoms of a heated imagination*

are*
2

V
 The Temple, I JJ

a religious and profound awe ; many lay pro-

ftrate, their faces agalnft the earth. In the
midft of this uniyerfal filent meditation, I was
feized with a facred terror; it feemed as if the
Divinity had defcended into the temple, and
filled it with his invifible prefence.

There were boxes to receive alms; but they

were placed in obfcure nooks. Tliis people
could perform a<fts of charity without oftenta-
tion. During the time of adoration, the filence
was fo religioufly obferved, that the fandity of
die place, joined to the idea of the Supreme
Being, pierced every heart with a profound and
aife6fing imprefllon.

The exhortation of the pallor to his flock was

Ample, natural, and eloquent; but more from
the matter than the llyle,. He talked of God
'only to.make him beloved by men,, and to re»
commend humanity, gentlenefs, and patience
he did not endeavour to difplay his wit, when'
it was his bufinefs to alFe6l the heart; it was a
father that converfed with his children on thofe
matters that were moll eligible for them to pur-
fue. Thefe precepts had the greater, effeft, a^
they
 "•~-~'^'-^imr'T~'minTniri —iMi'-f miiiii'i ms

13^ TejnpU*
they pioceecled from the mouth of a man whole
character was perfedly amiable. I could never
have been tired ; for this difeourfe confifted not
of pompous declamation, or vague charaders,
‘ or far-fctched figures, and ftill lefs of feraps of
poetry mixed with the profe, by which it com¬
monly becomes yet more infipid {a).

is thus, faid my guide,

It that every
morning we make a public prayer ; it lads an
hour, and the red of -the day the doors remain
fliut. We have fcarce any religious feads ; but
wx have thofe that are civil, which relax the
people without making them iicentrous. On
no day fhould man remain idle , by the exam¬
ple of nature, which never quits its operations,
he ought never to reproach himfelf with having
been quite inaclive. Repofe, however, is not

(tf) What, in our preachers, gives me the greateft dif-

guft, is, that they have no fixed principle with regard to
morals ; they dra w their ideas from their text, and not
* from tlie heart. To-day they are moderate and raliona)j
to-morrow pcrfecutors and enthufialls. They offer nothing
but words j and it is of little concern to them whether they
contradia themfelves or not, provided they make out
their three points, I have heard one of them pillage the
Encyclopedia, and declaim againf^ theencyclopsdiafts,

idle’-

*/4>

V
 temple* '37
idlenefs. Total ina£l:ion is a real damage to our
country ; and ceflation from labour is in fa61: a
diminutive of death. The time determined for
prayer is fufficient to elevate the mind to God ;
long offices produce inattention and difguff ;
and all private prayers have lefs merit than thofe
that excite the public devotion.

Let me recite to yoifthe form of prayer

ufed among us. Every one repeats it, and me¬
ditates on every fentiment it contains.

Thou one, uncreated Being ! the wife

Creator of this vaft univerfe ! fince thy good-
nefs hath prefented it as a fpe6tacle to man,
fince fo weak a creature hath received from thee
the precious gift of refiefting on this great and
beautiful work, fuffer not, that after the man¬
ner of the brute, hepafs over the furface of this
globe, without rendering homage to thy omrd-
potence and thy wifdom. Y7e extol thy glorious
works; we blefs thy fovereign hand ; we adore
thee as our Judge; but we love thee as the uni-
verfal Father of beings. Yes, thy goodnefs is
equal to thy power ; all things declare it; but,
above all, our own hearts. If feme tranfient
evil^
 evils here afflifl us, it is, doubtlefs, becaufe
they are inevitable; moreover, it is thy plea-
fure, and that is to us fufficient ; we fubmit
with confidence, and rely on thy infinite good-
iiefs , far from complaining, we offer up our
thanks for thy having created us to know thee,

‘‘ May- every one adore thee after his own

manner, according to the moft afiedfionate,
and mofl: animated didlates of his heart* We
do not wifh to fet bounds to his zeal. Thou
haft deigned to fpeak to us by the voice of na-
tureoiilyj all our devotion is confined to the
adoring of thee> in bleffing thy name, in cry¬
ing toward thy throne, that we are weak, mi-
ferable, limited creatures, and have for ever
need of thy fupporting arm.
' * r

If we deceive ourfelves, if any other wor-

fliip, ancient or modern, is more pleafing in
thy fight than ours, O vouchfafe to open our
eyes, and diflipate the clouds that hang over
our minds; we will faithfully obey thy precepts.
But if thou art fatisfied with this feeble homage,
which we know to be due to thy power, and to
thy truly paternal tendernefs; give us the con-
 ^The Temple. 139
flancy to perfevere in thefc fentiments of adora¬
tion with which w'e are inflamed. Preferver
of human kind! thou, who with thy compla¬
cent regards embracefl: the whole human race,
grant that charity may, in like manner, em¬
brace the hearts of all the inhabitants of this*
earth, that they may all love like brethren, and
pour forth to thee one fong of love adoration
and thankfgiving !

We do not prefume to pray for long life;

whether thou takeft us from this earth, or per-
mitteft us here to remain, we lhall never be ab-
fent from thy fight; we alk for virtue only, led
we ftiould offend againft thy impenetrable de¬
crees ; but humble and totally refigned to tliy
«

will, vouchfafej whether we pafs by a gentle

or painful death, vouchfafe to draw us toward
thee, the fource of eternal happinefs. Our
hearts pant after thy prefence. May this mor¬
tal veflment fall off, and may we fly to behold
thy glory I What we now fee of thy greatnefs
makes us long for a more extenfive profpe<St.
Thou haft done too much for man to refufe
freedorh to his thoughts; he therefore offers up
his
 ^ '

140 'The Tmpk.

his ardent vows to thee^becaiifejas thy creature^
he knows himfelf born to receive thy favours. yy

ak t
But, my dear br, I faid, your religion, if
you will permit me to declare it, is, in a man¬
ner, the fame with that of the ancient patri¬
archs, who adored Gcd in fpirit and in truth,
on the tops of the mountains.—“ Right ; you
have judly expreffed it; our religion is that of
Enoch, of Elias, and Adam, and therefore is
•i'' at lealb the mold ancient. It is with religion as
with laws ; the moft fimple are the befl. Adore
God, love thy neighbour ; hearken to thatcon-
fcience, that judge which continually attends
thee; never ftifle that fecret and celellial voice;
all the refl: is impofture, fraud, falfhood(^).
Our priehs do not pretend to a particular in-
fpiration from God ; they call themfelves our
eq‘uals ; they acknowledge, that, like us, they
.walk in darknefs ; they follow, however, that
luminous point which God has been pleafed to
fet before us, and (hew it to their brethren
without defpotifm, and without oflentation.

(^) Our author cannot ref rain from refe^mg on the

turto of the Komijh church*

Cheriili

' •t
.V. :A^'
 The Temple, 141.

Chcrldi a pure morality, free from dogmatic

principles, and you will banifli atheifm, fana-
ticifm, and fuperflition. We have found this
happy method, for which wc return our fincere
thanks to the Author of every good.’’

You adore a God ; but do you admit of the

immortality of the foul ? What is your opinion
of that great and impenetrable fecret ? All
philofophers have endeavoured to refolve it;
the wife man and the fool have pafled their
judgment; fyItems the moit diverfified, the
molt poetic, have been eredted on that famous
dodtrine ; it feems above all things to have ex¬
cited the attention of legiflators. What is the
opinion of your age concerning it ?

We need but look round us,” he replied,

to know that there is a God; we need but
look into ourfelves to know that there is fome-
thing within us, which lives, which perceives,
which thinks, which wills, and determines.
We believe that the foul is diflindl-from mat¬
ter, that it is intelligent by its nature. We
reafon but little on this fubjedi ;. we love to
believe all that elevates human nature; the
fyflem
 EW

14^ Temple*

fyftem which exalts it moft is to us the moft

pleafing ; and we cannot think that ideas which
do honour to the creatures of an Almighty
God can ever be falfe. To adopt the mod fub-
lime plan is not to deceive ourfelves, but to
attain the true end. Incredulity is nothing but
weaknefs, and boldnefs of thought is the faith
of an intelligent being. Why fliould we creep
towards inanity, when we find that we have
wings, by which we can afcend to the Moft
High, and when there is nothing which contra-
didls that noble daring. If It were poflible
that we could deceive ourfelves, man would
have conceived of an order of things more ex¬
cellent than that w'hich exifts; the fovereign
»

power would then become limited, I had almoft

laid his goodnefs.

We believe that all fouls are equal by their

cflence, but different by their qualities. The
foul of a man and that of a brute are equally im¬
material ; but one has advanced a ftep farther
than the other toward perfeftion ; and it is
that which conftitutes its prefent ftate, which,
however, is at all times liable to change.
 The Temple* 1^3

We fuppofe, moreover, that all the flars

and all the planets are inhabited, but that no¬
thing which is contained in one is to be found
in another. This boundlefs magnificence, this
infinite aflemblage of various worlds, this glo¬
rious circle of exifience, feems neceflary in the
vaft plan of creation. Thefe funs then, thefe
worlds fo fair, fo grand, fo diverfified, appear
to us habitations all prepared for man ; they
circulate, they correfpond, and are fubordinate
to each other. The human foul afcends to all
thefe worlds, as by a gradual and brilliant lad¬
der, that leads, at every ifep, to the higheft
degree of perfedion. In this journey it forgets
nothing it has feen, or has learnt; it preferves
the magazine of its ideas, v/hich are its mod:
valuable treafure, and by which it is conftantly
attended. When it launches forth to fome fub-
lime difcovery, it foars above the peopled
worlds already explored, and mounts in propor¬
tion to the knowledge and virtue it has acquir¬
ed. The foul of Newton has flown, by its native
vigour, over all the worlds that it once v/eighcd.
It would be unjud to fuppofe that death had
power to extingjuifh that mighty genius.
Such a deftrudlion would be more affiiaing.
1%^4* Temple,

more Inconcelvablejthaii that of the v/hole ma¬

terial unlverfe. It would be equally abfurd to
fuppofe, that his foul fhould be placed on a le¬
vel with that of an ignorant or llupid being.
In fafl:, it were to no purpofe for a man to im¬
prove his mind, if it were not capable of ele¬
vation, either by contemplation, or by the ex-
ercife of virtue : but an internal fenfe, more
powerful than all objections, fays to him. Exert
ell ihy powersy aud dejpife 'death ; it depends on
thyfelf to conquer^ and to augment thy life^ which
is thought,

‘‘ For thofe groveling fouls that are plunged

in the filth of vice, or of doth, they will return
to the point from whence they parted, or be yet
more degraded ; they have been for a long time
attached to the rueful borders of inanity, have
inclined toward fenfelefs matter, and have
formed a vile and brutal race; while the gene¬
rous fouls have foared toward the divine and
eternal light, they have plunged into that dark-
nefs, where fcarce is feen one pale ray of exig¬
ence. A monarch, at his deceafe, becomes a
mole ; a minifter, a venemous ferpent^ inhabit¬
ing fome filthy marfh ; while the writer he dif-
daiued, or rather could not comprehend, hath
obtained
 T]}e Temple. 14*5

obtained a glorious rank among Intelligent be¬

ings, the friends of humanity,

‘‘ Pythagoras difcovered this equality of

fouls ; he difcerncd the tranfmigration from
one body to another ; but it was in the fame
circle, and never extended beyond this globe.
Our meteinpfychofis is more rational, and fu-
perior to the ancient. 7'o thofe noble and ge¬
nerous fouls, who have made the happinefs of
their brethren the rule of their condudl, death
opens a glorious and brilliant career. What
think you of our fyftem ?”—I am charmed with
it ; it is in no wife inconfiflent either with the
power or goodnefs of God. This progreflive
march, this afeent to different worlds, to the
various revolving fpheres, all the work of his
hands, feems to me perfedfly agreeable to the
dignity of that Sovereign, who lays open all
his dominions to the eye formed to furvey
them.—Yes, my brother/’ he replied, with
rapture ; “ what profpeef fo interefling as the
fight of all thofe worlds, that will enrich our
fouls with millions of novelties, by which they
will inceffantly advance toward perfedlion, and
become more fublime, in proportion as they ap-
VoL, I, H proach
 146 The Temple,

proach the Supreme Being ; will know him

more perfe61;]y', will love him with a more en
lightened ardour, and at laft plunge into the
ocean of his immenfity. O my foul, rejoice !
thou canfl not pafs but from wonder to wonder;
a profpedl perpetually new, perpetually mira¬
culous, attends thee. How great are thy hopes ?
Thou (halt run through the immenfe fcene of
nature, till thou arflofl in God, from whom
thou derived thy lofty origin.’'—But the wick¬
ed, I faid, they who have finned againft the
laws of nature, have fhut their hearts againft the
cry of pity, that have murdered the innocent,
•and reigned for themfelves alone, what will be¬
come of them? Though I love not vengeance,
yet I could with my own hands erefl: a hell for
the punifliment of certain inexorable fouls, who,
by pouring down tortures on the weak and the
innocent, -have made my blood boil with in¬
dignation.—It is not for our weaknefs, con-
ftantly fubordinate to fo many paffions, to fay in
what manner God will punifli them. 7'his,
- however, is certain ; the wicked mud feel the
weight of judice ; banilhed far from his fight
will be every perfidious and cruel being, and
all thofe that are indifferent to the misfortunes
of
 The Temple.

of others. Never fhall the foul of Socrates, or

Marcus Aurelius rencounter that ot Nero,
This we may venture to affirm ; but it is not
for us to fix the weights that fliall enter the
eternal balance. We believe, however, that
' thofe crimes which have not entirely obliterated
the fentiments of humanity, that the heart
which is not become totally infenfible, that even
kings, who have not thought themfelves Cods,
may become purified, by improving their na¬
tures eluting a long courfe of years ; they will
defeend into thofe globes where phyfical evils .
predominating will be the ufeful fcourge to
make them fenfible of their dependence, and
of the need they have of clemency, and may
ferve to obliterate the preftiges of their former
pride. If they humble themfelves under the
hand that correcls them, -if they follow the
lights of reafon, if they become fenfible how
far diftant they are from the date they might*
enjoy, if they make fome efforts to obtain it,
then their pilgrimage will be greatly abridged ;
they will die in the prime of life, and wdll be
lamented; while, fmiling with great compla¬
cency on their rueful habitation, they wdil la¬
ment the lot of thofe who are compelled to re-
H 2 malni
 148 The Temple.

main after them upon an unhappy planet, from

whence they are delivered, llius it is, that
they wdio fear death know not what they fear ;
their terrors are the offspring of their ignorance;
and that ignorance is their firft punifhment of
their crimes.

Perhaps too, the moft criminal will be

deprived of the precious fenfation of liberty :
i. they will not be annihilated ; for the idea of
annihilation is repugnant to the nature of the
human foul : there can be no annihilation un¬
der a creating, preferving, and reftoring God.
Let not the wicked man flatter himfelf with that
refource ; he will be for ever expofed to the
all-piercing eye ; perfecutors of every kind will
yet wretchedly fubfifl, but in the lowed; clafs of
exidence they will be inceffantly fubje£l; to
frefh tortures, that will renew their flavery and
their mifery ; but the duration of their punifh-
ment God alone can determine.”

CHAP.

")
1

»
 ii
( M9 )

CHAP. XX.

THE PRELATE.

rr^HERE goes a living faint. That man

X you fee in a plain purple robe, who
rupportshimfelf by a flick, and whole gait and
afped difcover neither oflentation nor adciled
modefty, is our prelate.”—How ! your prelate
on foot.—“ Yes, in imitation of the firfl apof-
tles. They have, however, lately given him
a chair ; but of that he makes no ufe, except
from abfolute necefilty. His revenue fiows al-
mcil entirely into the bofom of the poor ; and
when he bellows his donations, he does not firfl
inquire if the man be of his particular opinioa;
it is fufTicient for him that they are men, and
that they are miferable; he is not opinionated,
fanatic, inflexible, or perfecutivc ; he does not
abufe his facred authority to place bimfelfon a
level with the throne; his afpe<fl is conflantly fe-
rene,the image of a gentle, uniform,and peace¬
ful mind, that never knows warmth or follicitude^^
but in doing good. He frequently fays to thofe
he meets, ‘ My friends, charity,as St. Paul fays,
 prelate,
*

* goes before faith ; be beneficent, and you

‘ have acconiplifhed the law. Reprove your
‘ neighbour, if he err ; but without pride,
* without bitternefs. Perfecute no man on ac-
* count of belief ; and take heed how youpre-
‘ fer yourfelf, in the bottom of your heart, to
‘ him that you have feen commit a fault;
‘ for to-morrow you will, perhaps, be even
‘ more criminal. Preach by example only.
* Reckon not among the number of your ene-
‘ mies the man who difpofeth abfolutely of his
* thoughts. Fanaticifm, in its cruel perfever-
* ance, hath already caufed too much evil, not
* to be dreaded, and prevented, even in its
‘ leaft appearances. That monfter feems at firft
^ to flatter human pride, and to aggrandife the
* foul to which it hath accefs ; but it foon hath
* recourfe to fraud, to perfidy, and to cruelty ;
‘ it tramples under foot every virtue, and be-
^ comes the moft terrible fcourge to humanity,’’

But who, I faid, is that magiflrate, with a

venerable port, that flops him, and with whom
he converfes fo much friendfhip That is
one of the fathers of his country ; he is the
head of the fenate, who takes our prelate to dine
with
 The Prelate.

with him. During their temperate and (hort

Tcpaft, frequent mention will be made of the
poor, the widow, and the orphan, and of the
means of relieving their misfortunes. Such is
the intereft that unites them, and which they
treat with the mofl: lively zeal; they never enter
into vain difcuffions of thofe antique and ludi¬
crous prerogatives, which exercifed, in fo pue¬
rile a manner, the grave heads of your times. ’

H A CHAP.
 ( 152 )

C H A P, XXI.

The Communion of the two Infinites.

B ut who is that young man that I fee fur-

rounded by a bufy crowd ? *What Joy is
expreffed in all his motions! How his vifage
glows 1 What happinefs has befel him ? From
xvhence comes lie.?—“ He comes from bein?
initiatedj my guide gravely replied ; ‘‘ though
we have but few ceremonies, yet we have one
that anfwers to what, in your time, they called
the firjl communion. We obferve with a watch¬
ful eye^ the genius, the charafter, and moft fe-
cret acSlions of a young man. When we per¬
ceive that he fearches out folitary places for
refleclion ; when we furprife him with a melt-
ing eye, gazing earnehly on the vaulted roof of
heaven, contemplating, in a fweet extafy, the
azure curtain that Teems ready to be drawn from
before him, then there is no time to lofe ; then
reafon appears to have attained its full maturity,
and he is become capable of receiving to advan¬
tage a difplay of the wonders of creation.

<< We

' .mmtJMUu”:' -H- j imiEKg.gi

 The Communion of the two Infinites, 153

♦< We make choice of a ferene night, when

the ftarry hoft filing forth in their fulled luflre.
Accompanied by his friends and relations, the
young man is condu(ded to our obfervatory;
his eye is iiidantly applied to a telcfcope (<^);
we caufe Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, all the mighty
bodies that float in order amidd the ethereal
fpace, to pafs before him ; we open to him, fo to
fay, the infinite abyfs ; all thofe radiant globes
prefs in crowds upon his adonifhed fight; then '
a venerable pador fays to him, with an awful,.
majedic voice, ‘ Young man, behold the God
of the univerfc, who reveals himfelf to thee in
* the midd of his works ; adore the God of
‘ thefe worlds, whofe extenfive power exceeds
^ not only the fight of man, but even his ima-
* gination ; adore that Creator, whofe refplen-
‘ dent majedy, is imprelTed on the front of
* thefe dars that obey his laws. When thou be-
^ bolded thefe prodigies, the works of his hand,
)

(a) The telefcope is the moral carmon that has lain in

ruins all thofe fuperftitions and phantoms that tormented
the human race. It Teems as if our reafon has been en¬
larged in proportion to the immeafurable fpace that has
been difeovered and traverfed by the fight. ■

H 5j think
 154 Communion of the two InfmUi,

‘ think with what bounty (<j) he is able to re-

‘ ward the heart that is devoted to him.
I
Re-
^ member, that among his ftupendous works,
man, endowed with the faculty of perceiving
^ and difcerning them, holds the lirft rank ;
• and that, as the child of God, he ought to
* venerate that refpe61:able title/

The fcene is then changed ; a microfcopc

is brought, and a new univerle, more aflonifn*
ing, more wonderful than the former, is dif-

{a) Montefquieu fomewhere fays, that the pictures vve

draw of hell are finifhed j but that when we would fpeakof
-eternal liappinefs, vve know not what to promife the good
folks. This thought is an a-bufe of that lively wit he fome-
tioies applies improperly. Let any fenfible man refierft but
3 moment on the number of keen and delicate pleafures
that proceed from the mind. How far do they furpafs
thofe of the fenfes ! and what is the hody without the
mind ? What are our fenfations when vve chance to fall
into a profoundand delicious reverie, where the imagina¬
tion roves without reftraint, and creates to itfelf exquifite
and variegated delights that have no refemblance to any
material pleafures ? Why cannot the power of the Crea¬
tor encreafe and prolong that happy ftate ? Is not that
extafy w hich fills the foul of the juft man, w'hen meditat¬
ing on his future date, a type of its future pleafure, when
the veil fhall be taken away, and he fhall range over the
'iraft plan of the univerfe.
p-layei
6
 The Cctnmunion of the two Infinites^ 155
played before him. TThofe animated points that
his eye for the firft time beholds, that move in
their inconceivable exility, and are endowed
with the fame organs as the giants of the earth,
prefent to him a new attribute of the intelli¬
gence of the Creatoa-

Xhe pallor then, proceeds in the fame

tone: * Feeble beings as we are, placed .be—
^ tween two infinites, opprelled on every fide
« by the force of the divine greatnefs, let us
‘ adore in filence the fame hand that has. illu-
mined fo many funs, andimprefled with life
«-thefe imperceptible atoms. That fight, doubt-
^ lefsj, which ,has compofed the delicate llruc*
< ture of the heart, the nerves,,the minutell
^ fibres of an. .emmet, can eafily penetrate the
• inmoll recedes of our hearts. What thought
• fo hidden *as to he concealed from that al-
• mighty eye. to .which the ladeal way appears
. ^ mo more than the.horn of a mite ? Let us
‘ render our thoughts all worthy to be known
by God, to whom they are ever expofed,. .
How oft, in the courfe of the day, may the •
‘ foul mount towards the Supreme, and be
•* ftrengthened by his prefence! Alas! the
H 6 ‘ whole
 156 The Com7mnion ef the two Infimtes.
whole courfe of our lives cannot be better em-
‘ ployed than in forming, at the bottom of our
hearts, an eternal hymn of praife, andaiSts of
* thankfgiving.’

The young man remains agitated and

nftoniflied by the double imprefTion that he re¬
ceives almofi: at the fame iiidant; he weeps
with joy ; he cannot fatisfy his ardent curiofi-
ty; he is tranfported at every advance he makes
in thefe two worlds ; his words are nothing
but a long hymn of admiration ; his heart
pants with furprife and awe. At thefe moments,
with what energy, with what hncerity does he
adore the Being of beings ! How is he filled
with the divine prefence ! How does the tele^
fcops extend, ennoble his ideas, and render
him worthy to be an inhabitant of this wonder*-
ful univerfe? He is cured of his terreftial am¬
bition, and of the little hatreds that it engen¬
ders 5 he refpefls all men as animated with the
fame breath of life ; he is the brother of all that
the Creator has formed (^).

His

(a) They endeavoured to ridicule a faint, who faid,

<< Feed on, thou ewe, my fi/terj leap for joy, ye fifhthae
aro

\
 ^he Communion-'of the two Infinites. 157

His glory, from that hour, is to reap in the

heavens ftore of wonders ; he appears to himfelf
of more confequence, fmce he has been'endow-
ed with the capacity of underftanding thefe
great truths *, he fays to himfelf, God is mani'»
fed to me ; my eye has vifited Saturn, the ftar
Sirius, and thofc funs that crowd the milky
way ; I find that my being is more noble than
I imagined, fince the Supreme has vouchfafed
to eftablifh a relation between my nihility and
his greatnefs. O ! how happy am I to have re^
ceived life and intelligence 1 I begin to fee
what will be the lot of the virtuous man, O
mod bountiful God ! grant that I may eternally
love and. adore thee !
I
I

He returns many times to feafi: on thefe

fiiblime obje<fls. From that day he is initiated
to the rank of thinking beings j but he reli-
gioufly keeps the fecret, that others, who have
not yet attained the age to enjoy fuch prodigieSa.
may feel the fame degree of pleafure and fur-
prife. On the day confecrated to the praife of
the Creator, it is an affedfing fight to fee on our

are my brethren.'’ This faint was much more eftImablQ

than his fellows j he was, indeed, a philofopher*
Ob'*
 Communion of the two Infinites*

obfervatory the numerous adorers of God fall¬

ing on their knees, the eye applied to thetele-
fcopc, and the fpirit in prayer, fending forth
their fouls with their fight, towards the Fabrica¬
tor of thefe ftupendous miracles {a). We then
fing certain hymns, compofed, in the vulgar
tongue, by the firfl writers of our nation ; they
are in every mouth, and defcribe the wifdora
and munificence of the Divinity- We cannot
(Conceive how a whole people could formerly in¬
voke God in a language they did not under-
fland : that people mull either have been very
abfurd, or have burned with a moil devouring
zeaL

Frequently, among us, a young man,

giving way to his tranfports, exprefles to ali the
affembly the fentiments with which his heart is

{a) If to-morrow the finger of the Almighty fhould

write thefe words upon the douds, in letters of fire, Mor¬
iah, adore a God t doubttefs, every one would fall on his
Rnees in adoration. Alas ! thoughtlefs, ftupid mortals I
Js it neceflary that God fpeak to thee in French, Chinefe,
or Arabic ? What are the innumerable ftars, rolling in
“^vacuity, but facred characters intelligible to every eye, and
•|hat ra^nifeftly fieclare a God, whojeve^ls himfelf to us>

filled;
 ' ’'^SSii!SSu!r'

’The Cmnmunion of the two Infinites. 159

St-

filled {a); he communicates his enthufiafm to

■the moft frigid tempers ; divine love inflames
and invigorates his exprefllons. I'he Eternal
then feems to defcend in the midft of us, to
.liftento his children, Avho entertain each other
with his facred cares and his paternal goodnefs.
Our philofophers and aflronomers are eager,
on thofe days of feflivity to reveal their choicefi
difeoveries ; as heralds of the Divinity, they
make-.us fenfibleof hisprefence, even in thofe
objedbs that appear to us the moft inanimate.
All things are filled with God, they fay, and
all things reveal him {b). We tliercfore doubts

(a) When a young man is feized with the enthufiafm of

virtue, even though it fhould be falfe or dangerous, we
fhould be cautious how we undeceive him. Leave him to
himfelf j he will difeover his error. Should you endea¬
vour to correct him, you may, by one word, chance to
tJeAroy his foul’s health.

(b) The exterior worfhip of the ancient.^ confifled of

feafts, of hymns, and dances, together with a very few
dogmas. The Divinity was not regarded by them as a fo-
litary being, armed with thunder-bolts 3 he vouchfafed to
communicate himfelf, and to render his prefence vifible.
They thought they did him more honour by feafts than by
tears and lamentation. The legiflature that is beft ac-
.quainted with the human heart will always lead it to vir¬
tue by the road of pleafure.
whether^
 li6o The Communion of the two Infinites.

whether, in all the extent of the kingdom, it is

poffible to find one atheift {a). It is not fear
that keeps him filem; we (hould think him to©
much worthy of pity to inflift any other punifh-
ment on him thanfhame; we Ihouldonly ba-
nifli him from amongft us, if he became an
enemy to the public good, and obftinately de¬
termined to oppofe a palpable, comfortable, and
falutary truth [b) -, but' firft'we fhould enjoin
him logo through an affiduous courfe of expe¬
rimental phyfics. It would not be poffible for.
him to oppofe the evidence of that demonflra-
tive fcienc^ it has difeovered relations fo fur-
prifingi fo remote,, and, at the fame time, fo-
fimple, when once they are known ; there are
fo many accumulated wonders that lay hid in
in its bofom,.and which are now expofed to

(a) It is for the atheift to prove that the notion of a ‘

God is contradidory, and that it is impofiible there ftiould
be fuch a being ; it is the duty of ^him that denies to pro¬
duce his reafons.

(If) When they tell me of the atheiftic mandarins of

China, who preach the moft admirable morality, and de¬
vote themfelves entirely to the public good, I will not -
give the lie to the hiftory, but I will fay, that, of all
things in the world, it appears to me the moft incredible,

openr:

.iifiiMi|ii|iiniiHll■'I \. ~~n-- --II r

 'The Conwiunhn of the two InfniteS, 761
open clay j in a word, nature is now fo eluci¬
dated, even in its minutelt parts, that he who
fliould deny an intelligent Creator would not
only be regarded as a (lupid wretch, but as da
being totally perverfe ; and to find fuch a one
among us would be acaufeof mourning to the
whole nation (^7).

But, thank heaven I as no one in our

city has the miferable folly to defire to diflin-
guifh himfelf by notions that are extravagant,
and diametrically oppofite to the imiverfal judg¬
ment of mankind, we are all of one opinion on
that important point; and that being fettled^
you will readily believe, that principles of the
pureftimorality are eafily deduced, fupported, as
' they are, on that unfhaken bafis {b).

They thought, in your age, that it was

impofilble to poflefs the people with a religion

(tf) The omniprefence of a great and bountiful God en¬

nobles the frame of nature, and fpreads every where z
certain vivifying and animated air, which a fccptic and de-
fponding doftrine can never give.

{b) ** I fear God,” faid a certain perfon.; ** and after

God, I fear none but that man who does not fear him.”
purely

/
 i t32 Th^ Communion of the two Infinites,

purely fpiritual; that was a grievous error ;

many of your philofophers reviled human na¬
ture on that falfe fuppolition. 7 he idea of a
Cjod devoid of every imperfedlion was not^
however, fo difficult to conceive^ It is proper to
repeat here once more, ‘ That it is the foul that
perceives God.’ Why ffiould falfehood be
more natural to man than truth ? It would
have been fufficient for your age to have banifh-
ed thofe impoflors that trafficked in facred
things, who pretended to be mediators between
God and man, and who diffufed prejudices
even more vile than the gold by which they
were rewarded. In a word, idolatry, that an¬
cient monfter, whom the painters, the ftatua-
ries, and poets, have, to the misfortune and
blinding of mankind, rivalled each other with
deifying, has been overthrown by our triumph¬
ant hands.

THAT there is but one God, an uncreated,

fpiritual Being, is the bafis of our religion.
There needs but one fun to enlighten the uni-
verfe ; there needs but one luminous idea to
enlighten human reafon’; all thofe foreign and
fadlitious aids, with which they would affift the
mind^
 T^he Communion of the two Infinites, 163

!Tiindj ferve only to confound it, they fonie-

times give it, we confefs, an energy that the
fimple truth does not always fliow ; but that is
a ftate of intoxication which becomes dangerous.
A religious fpirit has produced fuperftition ;
particular forms of adoration have been pre-
feribed ; and the liberty of mankind, being at¬
tacked in its moft valuable privilege, has juftly
revolted. A\^e abhor that fort of tyranny; we alk
nothing of the heart that it does acknowledge ;
but is it poflible for any one to oppofe thofc lu¬
minous and afFecl:ing imprelTions that are offer¬
ed him merely for his own happinefs ?

It is to offend agrdnft: the Infinitely perfe£l

Being, to calumniate human reafon, or to re-
prefent it as an incertain and falfe guide. That
divine law, which fpeaks from one end of the
world to the other, Is far preferable to all fac¬
titious religions invented by priefts, whofe fa¬
tal effedfs prove them to be falfe 5 they form a
tottering edifice that is in perpetual need of
frefh props. The natural law is an unfhaken
tower, from whence iffue, not difeord, but
peace
 c!
.4 *

fata si&

164 ^'he Communion of the two Infinites.

peace and unanimity (^2). TTbofe impGflorSj who

have made God fpeak according to the particu¬
lar paflions, have caufed the mofl horrid actions,
to pafs for virtues j and by proclaiming a barba¬
rous God, thofe wretches have drove many men
of tender feelings into atheifm, who naturally
became more defirous of delbroying the idea
of a vindictive being, than of difplaying it to
mankind [b).
a g
{a) The natural law, fo fimpfe and To pure, fpeaksan
uniform language to all nations j it is intelligible to every
Csnfible beingit is not furrounded by fhadows and my-
flericsj it is animated j it is graved on'every heart in in¬
delible characters j its decrees are fecure from the rcvolu*
tion of the earth, from the injuries of time, and from the
caprice of cuftom 5 every virtuous man is one of its priefts j
errors and vices are its vidti'ms; the univerfe is its temple 5
and God the only Divinity it adores* Thefe things have
been faid a thoufand times ; but it is good fiill to repeat
them. Yes, morality is the only religion necefTary to man j
when he is rational, then he is religious ; when he is ufe-
ful, then he is virtuous. Every‘man perceives, when he
ferioufly examines his own heart, when he coniiders his
own fituation, what he owes to himfelf and to others.

{h) It is by crufhing men by the weight of terrors,, it

kS by confounding their underftanding, that moft legifla-
tors have made rt3ves,.and have Batttered themfelves with
keeping
 T. he Communion of the tvjo hfnites, 165

We, on the contrary, it is on the good-

nefs of the Creator, fo manifeftly exprefled,
that we elevate our hearts towards him. The
fliadows of this low world, the tranfient evils
that afflaSl us, even death itfelf, cannot terrify
us. All thefe are douhtlefs ufeful, necelTary,
and even tend to produce our greater felicity.
Our knowledge is bounded, and therefore can¬
not comprehend the defigns of the Omnifcient
If the whole univerfe were to pafs away, what
Iliould we fear, feeing, whatever happens, we
mufl: neceflarily fall under the protedlioi^ of
God.*’

■keeping them eternally under their yoke. The hell that

fome Chriftians have imagined, is, without doubt, the
moft injurious blafphemy that ever was offered to the di¬
vine juftice and mercy. Evil ever makes a Wronger im-
preflion on men than good ; therefore, a malevolent di¬
vinity ftrikes the imagination more ftrongly than one that
is beneficent. For this reafon it is, that a gloomy,-
mournful afpe£^ prevails in all the religions of the world ;
they difpofe mankind to melancholy j the name of God
perpetually renews in them a fenfe of terror. A filial con¬
fidence, a refpe^lful hope, would do far more honour to
the Author of every good.

CHAP.
 ( i66 )

CHAP. XXII.

A remarkable Monument,

S I came out of the temple, they con-

jl\. dufted me to a place not far diftant, to fee
a monument lately eredled. It was of marble ;
it excited my curiofity, and infpired me with
a defire to fee through that veil of emblems with
which it was furrounded. They would not
explain it \ but left me the pleafure and repu¬
tation of the difeovery.

A COMMANDING figure attracted my regard;

by the fweet majefty of its countenance, by the
dignity of its ftature, and by the attributes of
peace and concord, J faw that it was facred
Humanity. It was furrounded by other kneel¬
ing ftatues, reprefenting women in the attitude
of grief and remorfe. Alas ! this emblem was
not difficult to explain; they reprefented the na¬
tions demanding pardon of Humanity for the
cruel wounds they had given her during the laff:
twenty centuries. France, on her knees, im¬
plored pardon for the horrible night of St. Bar-
tho-
 A remarkable Monument, 167

tholomew, for the cruel revocation of the ecllcl

of Nances, and for the perfecution of thofc
fages thatfprung upon her bofom, Hovv, with
her gentle afpe£f, could fhe ever commit fuch
foul crimes ! England abjured her fanaticifm,
her two rofes, and ftretched out her hand to
■philofophy ; flie promifed to fhed no blood but
that of tyrants (^). Elolland detefted the par¬
ties of Gomar and Arminius, and thepunifli-
ment of the virtuous Barnevelt. Germany
concealed her haughty front, and faw with horror
the hiftory of her inteiline divifions, and of her
frantic theologic rage, that was fo remarkably
contrafced by the natural coldnefs of her confti-
tution. Poland beheld, with indignation, thofe
defpicable confederates, who, in my days, tore
her entrails, and renewed the atrocities of the
croifades. Spain, ftlil more criminal than her
fifters, groaned at the thought of having cover¬
ed the new continent [h) with thirty-five mil¬
lions of carcafcs, with having purfued the de¬
plorable remains of a thoufand nations into the

(tf) She has kept her word,

[b) The Europeans in the new world ! what a book

yet unwrotc !
depths
 ,. J--,

s68 A remarkable Monument*

depths of forefts', and into the caverns of rocks,

and having taught animals, lefs ferocious than
themfelves, to drink human blood. Spain
may figh and fupplicate her fill, but never
ought to hope for pardon ; the punifhment of
fo many wretches condemned to the mines
ought for ever to be urged againfl: her {a). The
ftatuary had reprefented feveral mutilated Haves,
who, looking up to heaven, cried for ven¬
geance. We retired with terror ; we feemed
to hear their cries. The figure of Spain was
compofed of a marble veined with blood \ and

(<») 'When I think on thofe wretched beings who enjoy

nought of human nature but grief, buried alive in the en¬
trails of the earth, fighing after that fun which they have
had the misfortune once to fee, but (hall never more be¬
hold, who groan in their horrid dungeons each time they
breathe, and who know that they (hall never efcape from
that frightful night, but to enter into the eternal darknefs
of the grave ; then a (hivering runs through all my frame,
Ifeem to defeend into their infernal regions, I breathe with
them the ftench of the torches that illumine their hideous
dwellings; I fee that gold, the idol of mankind, in its true
afp€<ff 5 and fomething tells me, that Providence ought to
attach to that metal, the fource of fo many barbarities, the
chaftifement of.thofe innumerable evils that it caufes, even
before it fees the day.
 A rernarkalle Monument, 169

thofe fn<^htful ftreaks are as indelible as the me¬

mory of her crimes [a).

At a didance, was feen the dgnre of Italy,

the original caufc of fo many evils, the iird
fource of thofe furies that have covered the two
worlds. She was piodratc, her face againd the
earth ; fhe dided with her feet the flaming
torch of excommunication ; die feemed fearful
to follicit her pardon. I would have examined
her afpe^l more clofely ; but, on a near ap¬
proach, I found a thunder-bolt that lately fell
had blackened her vifage and dedroyed all her
features.

Radiant Humanity raifed her pathetic

front amidlf all thefe humble and humiliated
figures. I remarked, that the datuary had
given her the features of that free and courage¬
ous nation, who broke the chains of tyrants ;
the hat of the great Tell {h') adorned her head,
and
{a) Twenty million^ of men have fell by the f^vord of
Spaniards, and the kingdom of Spain contains fcarce feven
millions.

[h) IViUiam Ti?//, thefam%ut S’wtfs, ivho •was commanded by

Crijler, go’vernor of S'wltz.erland for the emperor Alhertuiy to
VoL, I, 1 f:oot

V
 170 A remarkable Monument,

and formed the mofi: refpedlable diadem that

ever bound the brows of a monarch {a). She
fmiled upon augufl Philofophy, her fifter, whofe
pure hands were fpread toward heaven, -by
wliom {he was regarded with the higheft com¬
placency.

In going from this place, I obferved toward

the right, on a magnificent pedeftal, the figure
of a negro; his head was bare, his arm extend¬
ed, his eye fierce, his attitude noble and com¬
manding; round him were fpread the broken
relicks of twenty fcepters; and at his feet I read
thefe words : Ti? the avenger of the new world,

an apple off bis fons heady Jianding at a corjiderahle diff

lance, luhicb he did ^cvithout hurting the child. He^as one of
the principal perjons concerned in the revciution %vhich happened
tK that country, in the year 13^7*

(a) IfPiato was to revifit the earth, he would certainly

regard with admiration the Helvetic republics. The Swifs
have excelled in that which conftitutes the elTence of a re¬
public, which is, to preferve its own liberties without at¬
tempting any thing againft that of others. Good faith,
candour, a love of labour, an alliance with all nations,
unknown in hiflory, ftrength and courage fupported in
the mid(\ of a profound peace, notwithftanding the differ¬
ence of religions, are what may ferve as a model to all
nations, and make them blulh at their follies.
I CRIED
 A remarkable ]iIo7iument» 17^ H
I CRIED out with furprire and joy.—Yes,
they faid, with equal rapture ; “ nature has at
]aft produced this wonderful man, this immortal
man, who was to deliver a world from the moll
outrageous, the moft inveterate and atrocious ty¬
ranny. His fagacity, his valour, his patience, his
fortitude, and virtuous vengeance, have been re¬
warded ; he has broke afundcr the chains of all
his countrymen. So vaft a number of Haves, op-
preHed by the rr.oll odious fervitude, feemed but
to wait his fignal to become fo many heroes. Not
the torrent that breaks the dykes, nor tlie burfl-
' ing thunder, have a more ludden, or more vio¬
lent efrecl:. At the fame inftant, they poured
forth the blood of all their tyrants ; French, Spa-
iiifh, Englidi, Dutch, and Portuguefe, all be¬
came a prey to the fword, to lire, and poifon^
The foil of America drank with avidity that
blood for which it had fo long thirlled 5 and
the bones of their anceidors, cowardly butcher¬
ed, feemed to rife up and leap for joy.
#
t

d'HE natives have realTumed their unalien¬

able rights, as they were thofe of nature. 1 his
heroic venger has given liberty to a world, of
which he is the titular deity ; and the other
1 2 world
172 A remarkable Monument.

world has decreed him crowns and homages.

He came like the ftorm which extends itfelf
over fome criminal city that the thunder is ready
to deftroy ; he was the exterminating angel, to
whom God refigned his fword of juftice ; he
has fiiown, by this example, that, fooner or
later, cruelty will be punifhed ; and that Pro¬
vidence keeps in refer\ e fuch mighty fouls, to
fend them upon the earth, that they may reflore
that equilibrium which the iniquity of ferocious '
ambition had deftroyed {a).

(a) This hero, doubtlefs, would have fpared thofc ge¬

nerous quakers, who have lately given their flaves their li¬
berty ; a memorable and afFedting epoch, at which I flied
tears of joy, and that makes me deleft thofe Chriftians
who do not imitate them.
 ( 173 )

CHAP, xxiir,
T'he Bready the IVlne^ ^V.

I Was To pleafed with my condu^lor, that I

was fearful every inflant, left he fiiould
quit me. The hour for dinner had been rung ;
as I was fir diftant from my lodging, and as all
my acquaintance were dead, 1 was looking out
for fome tavern, where 1 might civilly invite
him to dine, and acknowledge his complaifance
at leaft ; but was continually at a lofs, for we
paired through feveral ftreets without feeing one
place of entertainment.

What Is become, I faId,.of all thofe taverns,.

all thofe eating-houfes, that, united and divided,
in the fame employ, were continually at va¬
riance with each other [a)y that fwarmed at every
corner,
(a) He that turns the fpit muft not lay the cloth, and
he that lays the cloth muft not turn the fpit. It would be
curious to examine the bye- laws of the feveral communitiesi
of the good city of Paris. The parliament fat gravely ter
feveral days/m order to fix the invariable rights of a roafting
1 % COOlfa
 174 T^he Breads the Wine^ ^V.

corrxer, and formerly p'eopled the city ?—That'

was one of the abufes your age fufFered to fub-
fnl: •> they tolerated a mortal fophiflication that
^ killed the citizens when in perfedf health. The
poor, that is to fay, three parts of the town,
not being able to procure the natural wines,
compelled by thirft, and by the neceflity of re¬
pairing their exhaufted ftrength after labour,
drank a flow poifon in that deteflable liquor,
whofe daily ufe concealed the perfidy ; their
nerves w'ere weakened, their entrails dried up.
“ What could you expc6l? The duty was be¬
come fo excelBve, that it greatly furpafied the

cook. A remaikable caufe of this kind has lately occurred.

‘i lie company of bookfellers of Paris pretend, that the ge¬
nius of a Moritefquieu, a Corneille, &c.* belongs of right to
thernj that whatever proceeds from the brain of aphilofopher
forms a part of their patrimony ; that all human learning,
when once damped upon paper, becomes a commodity in
which no man has a right t® deal but themfelves j and that
the author of the work can reap no fort of advantage from
it but what they pleafe to grant him. Thefeextraordinary
p-etenfions have been publicly expofed in a printed me¬
moir. M. Linguet, a man ofletters, of eloquence, and of
a fruitful genius, has poured down ridicule in great plenty
on thofe ludicrous venders of books j but, alas, the force
of the ridicule falls on the wretched legiAaiion of the com¬
merce of France.

’ price
 The Bread, the Wine, iffc. *75

price of the commodity. One would have ima¬

gined that wine was forbid by the law, or that
the foil of France was become that of England.
Of but little confequence was it that a whole
city was poifoned, provided the farmers of the
taxes were able to advance in their contrails
every year T he taxes muft be raifed, the
price of the wine muft be enormoufly enhanced,
to fatisfy the horrible avarice of the farmer-ge¬
neral ; and as the great people were not affect¬
ed by this fecret poifon, it was very indifferent

(a) A peafant had an afs that carried panniers, which

his mafter filled with apples to the brim. The poor ani¬
mal, though heavily loaden, trod on with obedient and
patient fteps. At a fmall difiance from his villagf, the
clown faw fome ripe apples that hung over the path. “ O,
fays he, you can carry thefe, as you catry the others fo
well.** The afs, as patient as his mafier was rapacious,
redoubled his efforts, but his firength was unequal to his
obedience. They had not gone far before the clown faw
an apple lie upon the ground. ‘‘ O, for this one, he
faid, one can never make any difference.” The poor
beaft was unable to reply ; but his firength was exhaufieef,
he funk, and died under his burden.

Now, the moral is this. The peafant is the prince, and

the afs is the people ; but they mufi be a very pacific, afs-
like people indeed, who will fuffer themfelves to be ci ufiied
to death j if they have any fpirit, they will die firfi,

I 4 to
 176 ^he Breads the tVlne^

t0 them how fafl: the feum of the earth difap-

peaied, for fo they called the labouring^ part of
the nation. How was it poflible that they could
^volIlngIy turn their eyes from a murderous
abufe, and one that was fo fatal to fociety ?
V hat ! could they publicly fell poifon in your
city, and the magiflrate give himfelf no con¬
cern about it? O barbarous people ! i\mong
us, the crime of the cheating adulterator is ca¬
pital ; the poifoner would be'put to death ; but
we have fvvept away thofe vile tax-^’atherers,
who corrupted every commodity they touched.
Our wines arrive in the public market as nature
has formeti them, and the citizen of Paris, rich
or poor, drinks, in a lalutary liquor, a health
to his king, to the king that he loves, and by
whom he is both loved and eflecmed.”—And
the bread, is that dear?—“ It is conflantly
at the fame price [a) ; for we have wifely
eldablifhed public granaries, always full of

(^) The beft method to diminifh tlie vicfs of a people

is to render themeafy and content, NecefTity begets three
fourths of their crimes. The people,among whom reigns
plenty, aie not peftered with thieves or murderers. The
firfl maxim that a king fhould learn is, that the good man¬
ners of a people depend upon a competency 0/ provifions.

conij
 The Breads the IVine^ Ijfjc, 177'
corny in cafe of neceffity ; and which wc do
not imprudently fell to Grangers, to buy it
again twice as dear three months after. 1 hey
have balanced the intereft of the grower and
the confumer, and both have therein found
their account. Exportation is not fcibid, as it .
is highly ufeful ; but is confined to judicious
bounds., A man of ability and integrity watches
over this equilibrium, and fhuts the ports,
when it inclines too much to one fide {n). Bc-
fides, canals are now cut through-thc kingdom ;
we have joined the Saoii'to the Mofelle and the
Loire, and have thus formed a new juridlion
between the two feas infinitely more ufeful than
the ancient. Commerce fpreads its treafures

[a) We make-thc fineft fpeculations in ilie world; we

calculate, we write, we are imrnerfed in political ideas,
and never were errors fo multiplied. Common fente
would certainly fet thefe matters in a much clearer light.
We are become barbarians and fceptics, with t e preiend-
cd balance of tcafon in our hands. Let us again becorr<e
men. It is the heart, and not the head, that forms g eat
and generous aftions. Henry IV. w'as the beft of kings,
not becaufe he had more extenfive views than o.hers, but
be,.aufe, being fincerely the friend of man, his heart dic¬
tated thofe meafures that fecured their happinefs. What
an unhappy age is that, when they only icafcn about it.

I 5 from
 178 The Bread, the TVinCy (fc,

fiom Amderdam to Nantes, and from Rouen to

JMarfeilles ; we have formed a canal in Pro¬
vence, which was wanted by that fine country,
favoured by the moft benign regards of the fum
In vain, did a zealous citizen offer you his dif-
coveries and his labour , while you maintained
a number or trifling workmen at a great ex-
j^ence, you fuffered that great man to attend
lor twenty years in a forced inaclivity. In a
word,-our lands are fo well cultivated, the rank
ofa hufbandman is become fo reputable, and
Inch order and liberty reign throughout the
country, that if any man in power fliould abufe
it, by committing a monopoly, jufiice, who-
lilts her balance over the palace of the king,
would immediately bridle bis temerity. Jufiice
is no longer an empty name, as it was in your
age; her fvvord defeends on every guilty head
and examples of this fort fhould be calculated
more to intimidate the great than the common
people, as they are a hundred times more dif-
pofed to fraud, to rapine, and oppreffion of
every kind.”—Inform me more particularly, I
entreat you, of this important matter. It feems
you have adopted the prudent method of ma-
gazining your corn ; that is wifely done; you
are
 The Bread, the Wine, l^c. I 79
are thereby fure to prevent a public calamity.
My age committed grievous errors In this mat¬
ter j they w^ere fkilful in calculations j but they
never made allowance for the horrid quantity
of abufes. Writers, who had good defigns,
fuppofed a juft regulation, becaufe with that all
things run on perfedly eafy. O, how they ar¬
gued about the famous law of exportation (^v)!
and

(£:) This famous law, which W’as to have been the fjp-
ral of public felicity, has been the fignal of famine. It
has deflroyed the good eftefts of themoft fruitful harvefts j
it has devoured the poor at the door of the granaries that
cracked with the weight of corn, A mortal fcourge, un¬
known to the nation, has rendered it: own foil a Granger,
and has difplayed the moft horrid depravation of humani¬
ty ; man has fhown himfelf the moft cruel enemy to man.
Terrible example, and as dangerous as the fcourge iifelf!
In a word, the law has confecrated private inhumanity,
I am very ready to fuppofe great benevolence in thofe wri¬
ters, who have been the fupporters of this law 5 perhaps, it
may one day do good ; but it muR be eternaily reproach¬
ed with having caufed, though undefignedly, the death of
thoufands of men, and themiferies of thofe that death has
fpared. They were too precipitate 5 they forefaw all, ex¬
cept the avarice of man, fo Rrongly excited by that dan¬
gerous allurement. It is a fyphon (as M Linguet has em¬
phatically exprelfed it) that has been put into the hands of
commerce, and by whicli it has fucked out the fubRance of
the people. The public clamour Riould take place of th.e
1 6 public
t

180 Bread^ the tde,

:ind while they were bufied in their fine difpu-

tations, how the people fuffered by famine?

“ Thank
public gazeffes. We have heard the cries of grref; there-
<ore the ir^nitution is bad. That the evil proceeds from a
Jocalcaufeis no a-gumentj it fhculd be fotefeenand pre¬
vented ; it fliould be remembered, that an article of the
utmofl necefTify ought not to be abandoned to fortuitous
events ; that fo great a novehy, in fo vaff a kingdom^
would give it a (hock that v/ould certainly opprefs the
weaken part. The oeconomifts, hov^'ever, promifed
themfelves the contrary. They muft avow, tiiat they have
been miHed, even by a defire to ferve the pubHe ^ that they
had not fufficiently matured their projea j that they bad
eonfidered it feparately only, u'hereas, in the political
oeconomy all thmgs are conneded. It is not fufficient to
be calculators ; they fhould be datefmen j they fhould
confider what wili be deftroyed or altered by the palTions,
and what effedf the weight of the rich will have on the-
poor. They have confidered the objed from three points
of view only, and have emitted that which was of the ut-
moft importance, that which related to the labouring part
of the people, and who compofe three fourths of the na-
t»on. The pdee of their daily labour is net increafed,
and the avarice of the farmers-general holds them in a ftill
greater dependence j they are not able to appeafe the
cries of their children by redoubling their labours. The
dearnefs of bread has been the thermometer of other pro-
vifions, and each private perfon has found himfelf lefs
rich by one half. This law, therefore, has only ferved
So A kreeii to encreafe legally the moA horrid monopolies;
it
 T^he Breads the Wine, i8i.
I
Thank Providence,who has watched over this
kingdom, or you would have fed on the grafs
of the field ; but it had pity on you, anil par¬
doned you, becaufe you knew not what you
did. How prolific is error !

“ There is one profeflion, which is common

to almofi: all the inhabitants, which is that of
agriculture, taken in its fullefl: extent. The
women, as weak, are deftined to cares purely
domefiic, never laboured the land ; their hands
prepared the wool, the flax, &c. Man would
blufii to load them with any laborious employ.

Three things are held in peculiar honour

amang us ; to be the father of a child, to cul¬
tivate a field, and to build a hoiife. The cul¬
ture of the land is alfo moderate ; the hufband-
man does not toil from early dawn till after fun-

;t lias, been turned againfl the nation whom it was to have*

made flourith. Sigh, writers ! and though you have fol¬
lowed the generous motions of a heart truly patriotic, learrv
how dangerous it is not to know your age and mankind,
and to give them a whoJefome gift which they may turn
into a poifon. It remains for you now to comfort the fick,
to point our their remedy, and, if it be poflible, to favc,
ihtm fi ojT) dedcudljou. Hic labor, hoc o^ui^

fet^
182 Breads the Wine^

fet, bear all the heat of the day, and exhaufted

fink, imploring in vain a fmall portion of what
fprings from the labour of his hands. Can there
be a defliny more diftrefsful, more horrid, than
that of the poor peafant, who finds his labours
continually increafing, and fills with groans the
fhort fpax:e of his days? What flavery is not
preferable to the eternal flruggle againfl thofe
vile tyrants who continually pillage their huts,
by impofing taxes on extreme indigence? The
excefs of contempt, with which they are treated,
makes them infenhble even to defpair ; and, in
in his deplorable condition, the opprefTed, de¬
graded villager, while he plo^vs the heavy land,
bows down his head, and finds no difference
between himfelf and his ox.

Our fertile plains refound with fongs of

joy; the father of each family fets the example:
the talk is eafy; and when it is done, joy be¬
gins ; the intervals of repofe render their la¬
bour more vigorous; and it is conflantly at¬
tended by fports or rural dances. Formerly,
they went to the towns in fearch of pleafure ;
now they find it in the villages, where each
one bears a fmiling vifage. Labour has no
longer
 The Brecidy the Wine^ 183

longer an ugly and forbidding afpe61, as it no

longer refembles flavery ; a gentle voice invites
them to their duty, and all becomes eafy, and
even agreeable. In fhort, as we have not that
✓
number of idle fubjecls, which, like ftagnating
humours, impedes the circulation of the body
- politic, each individual has time for pkafing
amufement, and no one rank is crufhed to
fupport another.

“ You will eafily conceive, therefore, that

having no monks, nor priefts, nor numerous
domellics, nor ufelefs valets, nor workmen
employed in childifh luxuries, a few hours of
labour are fufheient for the public wants. Our
lands produce plenteous crops of every kind ;
what is fuperfluous we fend to foreigners, and
receive in return other commodities.

You will find our markets abundant in all

things neceflary to life; pulfe, fruits, fowls, fifii,
&c. The rich do not, by their extravagance, op-
prefs the poor; far from us is the fear of not hav¬
ing a fufliciency ; we never pradice the infati-
able avidity of procuring three times more than
we can confume ; we regard dlfiipation with
horror.
‘‘ If .
 The Bread^' the Wine^ ifc.

If nature, during one year, treats us with *

rigour, the fcarcity does not cofl: the lives of
thoufands; the granaries are .opened, and the -
wife precautions of man, foftens the inclemen¬
cy of the air and the wrath of heaven. A food
that is meagre', dry, badly prepared, and of un-
wholeforae juices, does not enter the ftomach-
of the man accuftomed to hard labour; the rich
do not feparate the fineft flour, and leave to *
others the bran only ; fuch an outrage would ,
be regarded as a fhameful crime *, if we fhould '
know that a fnigle man languiOled for want,
we ihould all regard ourfelves as culpable ;
every man would lament his crime with tears.
i

The poorefl: fubjedl, therefore, is free -

from- all apprehenfions of want; famine, like a ^
threatning fpedlre, does not call the labourer ^
from his ftraw, while he is drowning his griefs
for a few minutes in deep. He rifes without
forrowfully regarding the dawning day. When
he would appeafe the fenfations of hunger, he ^
is not fearful of conveying, v/ith his food, poi-= ^
fon into his veins.

They who are in poffeffidn of riches em¬

ploy them in making new and ufefiil expcrl-j
ments ^
 Ml
The Bread) the IVine) ifdc. 185

ments; fiich as fervc more clearly to invelVigate f

a fcience, or carry an art toward perfe(^l:ion ;

they ere£l majellic edifices; they are diftin-
guiihed by honourable enterpiizcs; their for¬
tune does not flow into the lap of a foul concu¬
bine, or upon an iniquitious table, where roll . I

three dice ; their wealth takes a form, a con-

fiftence that is refpe(Slable in the pleafed eyes
of the citizens. The darts of envy, therefore,
never attack their poflelfions ; we bleis thofe
generous hands, which, as depofitaries of the
gifts of Providence, have fulfiiled its views, by
creeling fuch ufeful monuments.

But when we confider the wealthy of

your age, the fcavengers carts, I think, did not
contain matter more vile than their fouls ; gold
in their hands, bafenefs in their hearts, they
formed a kind of confpiracy againft the poor ;
they rioted in the labour, the care, and pains of
a numerous, unfortunate people ; they regard¬
ed with unconcern the fweat of their brows,
and thofe terrors that made them fee an old age
abandoned to want; their violence became juf-
tice; the laws were only exerted to fanclify
their robberies. As a fire deftroys all that is
near
 l86 Hoe Bready the Wine.^ is’e.

near it, fo they deftroyed all that joined to their

lands; and if they were robbed but of an apple,
they raifed incelTant clamours, and death alone
could expiate fo enormous a crime.”—What
could I reply ? I held down my head ; and
falling into a profound reverie, I walked con¬
centered in my thoughts.—You will have
other fubjedls for reflexion,'' faid my guide;
remark (as your eyes are fixed on the ground)
that the blood of animals does not flow in the
flreets and awake the idea of carnage ; the air
is freed from that cadaverous fcent, which en¬
gendered fo many difeafes. A clean appearance
is the mofi: certain fign of public order and har¬
mony ; it reigns in every part. From a falu-
tary, and I will venture to fay, moral precau¬
tion, we have eftablifhed flaughter-houfes out
of the town. If nature has condemned us to
eat the flefh of animals, we fhould at Jeafl; fpare
ourfelves the fight of their death. The trade of
a butcher is followed by foreigners driven from
their country , they are protebled by the law ;
but we do not rank them in the clafs of citi¬
zens; no one of us exercifes'that fanguinary
and cruel art; we are fearful left it fliould in¬
fen fibly accuftom our brethren to lofe the natu¬
ral
 0

\ The Breads the Wine^ ^c, 187

[ lal imprefTion'of pity, which, you know, is the

[ 'moft amiable and moft worthy prefent nature
[ has given us (^)*”

{a) The Banians eat nothing that has had life ; they are
i ■ even fearful of killing the leafl infe(5f j they throw i ice and
beans into the river, and grain upon the earth, for the
nourithment of thefifh and birds. When they meet a
hunter or fiflier, they pray him earneflly to defift from his
enterprize j and if he be deaf to their prayers, they offer
him money for his gun or nets j and if that won’t do, they
trouble the waters, and cry with all their flrength to drive
away the birds, Hiftory of Voyages,

CHAP.
 ( i8g )

chap. XXIV.

"T^he Prince a Publican,

Y O U are defirous to dine,” faid my

guide; ‘‘ for the walk has procured
you an appetite. Very well ; let us enter this
public houfe.”—1 flopped fliort. You do not
obfcrve, I faid, this is fome nobleman’s gate ;
there are his arms ; it is a prince that lives here.
• “ Ay, certainly, he is a prince; for he al¬
ways keeps three open tables ; one for himfelf
and his family,another for fl;rangers,and a third
for the neceffitous.*’—Are there many fuch ta¬
bles kept in town.—Yes, by all the princes.”
You muft then have a great number of idle
parafites. Not at all ; for when any one
makes a prac3:ice of it, and is not a ftranger, he
is marked ; the cenfors of the city inquire into
his abilities, and affign him an employment;
or if he be found fit for nothing but to eat, he
is banifhed the city, as in the republic of bees,
they diive all thofe from the hive who are only
able to confume the common ftock.”—You-
have then cenfors?—Yes; or they rather
merit
 ^he Prince a Publican, 189
merit another name ; they arc monitors that
bear about the torch of reafon, and cure indo-
-cile or rebellious fpirits, by employing fome-
tlmes the eloquence of the heart, and fome-
times gentlenefs and addrefs.

These tables are intended for the aged,

the fick, teeming women, orphans, and Gran¬
gers. Every one fits down without Giame, and
witlput hefitatlon ; they there find a whole-
fome, light, and plentiful repaft. This prince,
who refpeiTs humanity, does not difplay a lux¬
ury as ofienfive as it is faftuous ; he does not
employ three hundred men in providing a din-
^ ner for twelve perfons ; his table does-not re-
prefent the decorations of an opera; he does not
glory in what is a real difgrace, in a fenfelefs,
monfirous profufion {a); when he dines, it is
fufficient that he has an appetite; he thinks, it
would be to make a god of himfelf, to have a

(4) When we fee the print of Gargantua, that has a mouth

as large as an oven, and fwallows at one meal twelve
hundred pounds of bread, twenty oxen, a hundred flieep,
fix hundred fowls, fifteen hundred hares, two thoufand
quails, a thoufand barrels of wine, fix thoufand peaches,
&c. &c. who does not fay, ** That is the mouth of a
king ?”

him»
 190 The Prince a Publican,

hundred diflies ferved up to him, which, like

the ancient idols he could nottafte.*’

While we were converfing, we crofTedtwo

courts, and entered a very long hall, which was
that for ftrangers, One table, already ferved in
feveral places, ran the whole length of the hall.
They honoured my great age with an armed
chair; they gave us a nouriflnng foup, fome
pulfe, a few wild fowl, and fome fruit, all
plainly drefled {a).

This, I faid, is admirable.O, how excel¬

lently are riches employed, when they feed the
hungry! I find this way of thinking far more
noble, and more worthy of their rank.All
pafled with thegrea'tefi: order; a decent and ani¬
mated converfation gave an additional pleafure
to this public table. The prince appeared ; he
gave his orders on one fide and the other, in a
noble and affable manner ; he came fmiling to

(^2) I have feen a king, entering the hotel of a prince,

through a large court filled with wretches, who cried, with
alanguilhing voice, “ Give us'fome bread!" and after
hearing their cries, without making any reply, the king
and the prince have fat down to a dinner that coft near a
million of livres,
me.
 I

’The Prince a Publican, ' 191

me, and inquired about the age I lived in ; he

conjured me to be llncere. Alas ! I faid, your
diilant anceflors were notfo generous as you are;
they palled their days in hunting [a) and at ta¬
ble i if they killed hares, it was from idlencfs,
and not to feed thofe who had fed them ; they
never raifed their minds to any great and ufeful
work ; they expended millions in dogs and va¬
lets, in hoifes and flatterers. In a word, they

[a) The chace fhould be regarded as an ignoble, wretch¬

ed diverfion j we fliould never kill any animals but from
necefTity } and of all employments, it is furely the moft
ungrateful, i always read with a repeated attention what
Montaigne, Roufleau, and other philofophers have wrote
on the chace. I love thofe good Indians who refpedl even
' the blood of animals. The natural difpofitions of men are
painted in the fort of pleafures they purfue 5 and what a
wretched pleafure to bring down a bloody partridge from
the air! to maflacre a number of hares under their feet!
to follow twenty howling dogs, and fee them tear a poor
animal! Ke is weak, he is innocent, he is timidity it-
felf } a free inhabitant of theforeft, he falls into the cruel
jaws of his enemies, while man purfues, and pierces his
heart with a javelin j the barbarian fmiles to fee his beau¬
teous Tides befmeared with blood, and the fruitlefs tears
ftream from his eyes. A diverfion like this mufl take its
fource from a heart naturally infenfible; and thecharadler
of a hunter is that of an indifference prompt to change
into cruelty.

6 fol-
 192 Prince a Publican.

followed the trade of courtiers; they abandoned

the caufe of their country.

Every one lifted up his hands in amaze¬

ment : I had the greatefl difficulty to make them
believe it.—Hiftory,” they faid, does not
tell us this ; on the contrary-Ah ! I
replied, the hiftorians were ftill more criminal
than the princes.

r*

CHAP.
 ( 193 )

C H A P. XXV I

THE THEATRE.

FTEll dinner, they propofed going to tlie

jLJl play- I always loved the theatre, and
il^all love it a thoufand years hence, if I fliould
live fo long. My heart bounded with joy.
What play is it ? Which of all your dramas
is reckoned the mailer-piece by the people?
Shall I fee the Periian, Grecian, Roman, or
French drefs ? Will they dethrone fome
flupid tyrant, or llab fome weak unguarded
wretch ? Shall I fes a confpiracy, or fome
ghoft afcend from the tomb at the found of
thunder ? But, gentlemen, have you any good
a£lor6 ? they have been at all times as fcarce as
great poets.—AVhy, yes, they take pains ;
they fliidy; they fufFer themfelves to be inflruel-
ed by the bed; authors, that they may not
wretchedly murder the fenfe;*they are docile,
though lefs illiterate than thofe of your day.
You could fcarce, they fay, produce one toler¬
able a6lor or attrefs; the reft wt^re all worthy
K
 ii^BmatLKiHKnaM

•'.y

^94 ^he T^heatre,

ot the booths on the Boulevards [a), Yot

had a fmall miferable theatre in a city that
rivalled Rome and Athens; and that thea-
tie was miferably governed; The comedian,
to whom a fortune was given that he was far
from meriting, had the infolent pride to harrafs
the man of genius, who found himfelf obliged
to lefign to him his long-laboiired piece (^).
T. hefe men did not blufli to refufe, or play with
regret, the bed dramas, while thofe they re-

{a) The Boule-uards are a part of the ancient ramparts of ^

Pans, avhich in the fummer months ate lined with a great
mtrr.ber of coffee ana mufc houfes, puppet Jhews, ccnjurtrs, wild
beajis, rope~dancerSj and euery other kind of low dia/erjion,

{h) In France, ihe government is monarchical and the

theatre republican f. By their prefent manner of proceed-
irg, the dramatic art will not be foon brought to perfec¬
tion. I will venture to affirm, that every piece of any ex-
C£ hence will be prcfcribed by the government. Authors
wiite tragedies on antique fubjedts j we muft have ro¬
mances, and not reprefentations capable of affeaing and
inlfru(fling the nation; lull us with fome old ftory of a
cock and a bull ; but do not defchbe modern events, and
leaft of all fuch men as now exffi.

f There are no managers, or at leaf feparate proprietors, at

either of the^ theatres of Paris. The whole company make one
body, and divide the profits among them.
i
 I

The Theatre, 195

ceived with rapture bore, by that very teflimo^
ny, the marks of fu'dden reprobation. To con¬
clude, our a6lors do not intereft the public
with the quarrels of their dirty, miferable
barn.

We have four theatres, in the middle of

the four quarters of the city. They are fup^
ported by the government ; for they are made
public fchools of taflc and morality. We have
difcovered all that influence which the afcen^
deucy of genius has over fenfible minds [a].
Genius
(^i) At the fair, and on the rampaits, they give the
people pieces that are gtofs, ridiculous, and obfcene, when
it were fo eafy to give them fach as aie elegant, pleating,
inftrudive, and adapted to their capacities j but it is of
little concern to thofe that govern, whether tl e body be poi-
foned at the public houfe, by adulterated wine poured into
pewter Velfels, or the mind corrupted at the fair by wretch¬
ed farces. If the lelTons for theft that are given by the
buffoon Nicokt, and which are regarded as ftrokes of wit,
a.e followed, a gibbet is prefently eredled. There is even
a fentence of the police that exprefly condemns the people
to fee licentious exhibitions, and that forbids the players
of the Boulevards to perform any thing that is rationa/,
and that out of legard to the refpedable privileges of the
king’s comedians. It is in a polite age 5 it was in the year
3767, that this fentence was publilhed. Wi:h what con-
K 3 leinpt
196 The Theatre,

Genius has produced the mofl wonderful ef¬

fects, without labour and without violence. It
is in the hands of the great poets that are de-'
pofited, fo to fay, the hearts of their fellow-ci¬
tizens, and which they modify after their own
pleafure. How criminal are they, when they
produce dangerous principles ! but how fhort is
our moll lively acknowledgment, when they
combat vice and fupport humanity ! Our dra¬
matic authors have no other view than the im¬
provement of human nature ; they all drive to
elevate and llrengthen the mind, and to render
it independent and virtuous. The good citi¬
zens (hew themfelves ready' and affiduous in
promoting thofe chef-d’oeuvres that affect, in-
tereft, and endow the heart with that falutary
emotion that difpofes it to compalTion j the cha-
radteriflic of true greatnefs
We

tempt do they treat the poor people ! How is their inftruc-

'tion negleded, as if there were reafon to fear their acquiring
any juft lights! It is true, that, in return, they cull,
with the greateft nicety, the verfes that are to be pro¬
nounced on the French theatre.

(^) What force, what effea, what certain triumph,

would not our theatre have, if government, inftead of re¬
garding it as an afylum for idlers, would confider it as the
fchool
 The Theatre* ^97

We arrived at a fpacious place, in the

midfl: of whiGh was fituate an edifice of a ma-
jefiic compofition. On the top of the front
were placed feveral allegorical figures. On the ^
right was I'halia, plucking off the mafk with
w?hich v?ce had covered'her vifage, and wfith
her finger pointing to her deformity. On the
left, Melpomene, armed wfith a poignard, open¬
ed the breaft of a tyrant, and expofed to
every eye the ferpents that devoured his
heart.

The infide of the theatre formed an advanced

femicircle ; fo that the fpecflators were all com-
moJioufiy difiributed. Every one was feated ;
and when 1 recolie£led the fatigue I had for-

fekool of virtue and of the duties of a citizen ! But what

have men of the greateft genius amongft us done ? They
have taken their fubjeds from the Greeks, the Romans,
Perfians, &c. they have prefented us with foreign, or ra¬
ther faftitious manners, Harmonious poets, but faithlefs
painters, they have drawn ideal pidlures ; with their he¬
roes, their tumid verfes, their monotony of paiTions, and
their five afts, they have depraved the dramatic art j which
is nothing more than a fimple, faithful, animated painting
of the manners of our cotemporaries.

K 3
 3 9^ theatre.

merly fuffercd to fee a play, I found this people

more prudent, more attentive to the conve¬
nience of their fellow citizens ; they had not
the infolent avidity to cram in more perfons than
the houfe would conveniently hold ; there were
fome places always left empty for flrangers ;
the company was brilliant; the ladies were ele¬
gantly dreffed, and decently difpofed.

The performance opened with a fymphony

adapted to the piece that was to be reprefented,
Are we at the opera? I exclaimed ; this mufic
isfublime.—“ We have found the mean of
uniting, without confufion, the two exhibitions
in one, or rather of reviving the alliance of
poetry and mufic that was formed by the an¬
cients. During the interadls of our dramas,
they entertain the audience with animated
fongs, that paint the fentiments, and difpofe
the mind for the enjoyment of what is going
to be offered. Far from us is banifhed ail ef¬
feminate, capricious, orrioify mufic, thatfpeaks
not to the heart. Your opera was a grotefque,
monftrous compofition. We have referved all
of it that was good. In your own time, it was
far
 The Theatre.. 199

far from being fecure from the jufl: reproach

of men of fenfe and taHe (^7) *, but no\v.

As he fjid thefe words, the curtain rofe.

The feene was at Touloufe; 1 faw its capirol,
its maglftratcs, the judges, the executioner,
and the fanatic people. 'I he family of the un¬
fortunate Calas appeared, and drew tears from
my eyes. The old man came forward with his
hoary locks, his tranquil firmnefs, his gentle;
heroifm : I faw the fatal deifiny mark his inno¬
cent head with all the appearance of criminali¬
ty. What moft afletled me was the truth that
ran through this drama. They had been very
cautious not to disfigure this pathetic fubje(T by
improbabilities, or by the monotony of our
rhiming verfes; the poet, in following the heps
of this cruel event, had attached himfelf to
thofe incidents only which the deplorable fitua-
tion of each vi6llm produced, or rather he had
borrowed their language ; for all the art con-
fifts in faithfully repeating the voice of nature.
At the end of the tragedy, they pointed me out:

{a) The opera cannot but be very dangerous ; but there

is no fpeitacle fo expenfive to government : it is even the
only one about which it is interefted,

K4 That
 :■

200 ^hc ^hcatrt.

Xhcic IS the niciii,’’ they faicl, who was

rotemporary to that u?}happy age ; he heard the
cries of the unhridied populace, excited by this
-David ! He was a witnefs to the fury of that
abiiird fanaticilai !’’—I wrapped myfelf up in
my cloak; 1 hid niy face, while I blufhed for the
age in whicli I was born. They gave out, for
the next day, the tragedy of Cromwell, or the
Death of Charles 1. (^a) and all the people ap¬
peared highly pleafed. That piece,’’ theyfaid,
“ was a chef d’oeuvre ; the caufe of kings and
of the people, had never been reprefented with
that force, that eloquence, and truth. Crom¬
well was an avenger, a hero worthy of the
feeptre he caufed to fall from the hand of one
that was perfidious and criminal towards to the
flate. Kings/’ faid they, ‘‘ whofe hearts
are difpofed to injuftice, can never read that
drama without blanching their haughty fronts.’’

They announced for the fecond piece. The

Hunting-Match of Henry IV, His name is

{a) On what are you dreaming, tragedians ? While

fuch a fub}e(5l offers itfelf, you tell us about Perfians and
Greeks j you give us romances in rhime j ah! give us
Cromwell.

con*
 'The Theatre* 201 H
conftaritly adored ; future good kings have not
been able to efface his memory. This piece
does not fho\v that the man disfigures the hero.
The conqueror of the league never appeared to
me fo great as at that inftant, when, to fave
trouble to his hofts, his vi6lorious arm bore a
pile of difhes. The people clapped their hands
with tranfport; and by applauding the great
and beneficent mind of that monarch, they
heaped commendations on their own king.

I CAME away highly fatisfied. Thefe a6lors,

I faid to my guide, are excellent ; they have
fouls, they feel, they exprefs *, they have no¬
thing conflrained, afl'ecled, gigantic, or outre*,
even the very affiftants perform their parts : in
facl, that is extraordinary.—‘‘ It is,” he replied,
on the theatre as in common life ; every one
places his glory in a^fing well his part, which,
how low foever it may be, becomes honourable
to him who therein excells* Declamation is
regarded as an efiimable and important art by
our government. Heirs of your capital works,
we perform them with a perfe^lion that, would
aflonifli you *, we know how do honour to that
which genius has traced, O, what art is more
K 5 pleafirg
202 The Theatre*

pleafing than that which paints all the combi¬

nations of fentiments by the looks, the voice,
and the gefture ! What an harmonious and af-
fedlirig whole ! and what energy does it borrow
from fimplicity!”—You have then divefted
yourfelves of great prejudices? I doubt whe¬
ther you regard the profeflion of a comedian as
bafe.—It has ceafed to be fo, fince they have
been men of principle. There are prejudices
that are dangerous, and others that are ufeful.
In your time, it was doubtlefs proper to bridle
that reducing and dangerous difpohtion, that
led youth to a profefiion, of which licentiouf-
nefs was the bafis. But all is changed j wife re¬
gulations, by making the players forget them-
felves, has enabled them to recover the path to
honour ; they are entered into the clafs of citi¬
zens. But lately our prelate befought the king
to give the embroidered hat to a comedian by
whom he had been remarkably affedled.”-
How ! does your good prelate go to the play I'
—Why not, fince the theatre is become the
fchool of manners, of virtue, and fentiment ?
They write, that the father of the Chriftians
amufed himfelf highly, in the temple of God,
with liftening to the equivocal voices of mutilated
1 wretches;
 The Theatre. 203

wretches ; we never hear fuch deplorable ac¬

cents j they muftaffli^l at once the ear and the
heart. How was it poffible for men to liften
to fuch cruel mufic ? It is far more eligible, 1
think, to fee the admirable tragedy of Maho¬
met performed^ where the heart of an ambitious
villain is laid bare^ where the furies of fanati-
cifm are fo energetically exprelTed, as to make
uninftrufled fouls that have any difpofition to
it, tremble.

There goes the paftor of this quarter, -

who, as he returns, is reafoning with his chil¬
dren on the tragedy of Calas. He enlightens
their underftanding and forms their tafte; he
abhors fanaticifm ; and when he thinks on that
foul rage, which, like an epidemic dihemper,
defolatcd one half of Europe for twelve centu¬
ries, he thanks heaven for having aa'rived fo late
in the world. At certain times of the year, we
enjoy a pleafure, which to you was abfolutely
unknown ; we have revived the pantomime
art, fo pleafing to the ancients. Plow many
organs has nature given to man! and how many
refources has that intelligent being to exprefs
the almoh infinite number of his fenhitlons ! All
K 6 is
 ap
t

204 Tie Theatre,

is countenance with thefe eloquent men ; they

talk as clearly to us with their fingers as you
can with your tongue. Hippocrates formerly
faidj that the pulfe difeovered a ruling Deity.
Our expert pantomimes fhew what magnifi¬
cence Providence has ufed in forming the hu¬
man head.^’—O, I have nothing to fay ; all is
perfe£lion How is that ? Much yet re¬
mains to be done ere we attain perfection. We
are freed from that barbarifm in which you was
plunged ; fome heads were foon enlighten^ed;
but the nation in general was inconfequent
and puerile; it is by degrees that minds are
formed; more remains to be done than we
have yet accomplifhed ; we are fcarce yet half¬
way up the ladder ; patience and refignation
produce all things 3 but much I fear, thatabfo-
lute good is not of this world. It is, however,
by conftantly purfuing it, I imagine, that we are
enabled to render matters, at leaft, tolerable.’'

CHAP.
 ( 205 )

CHAP. XXVI.

THE LAMPS.

E came out of the theatre without trou«

ble or confufion; the paflages were
numerous and convenient. I beheld the ftreets
perfe£lly light; the lamps \Vere placed againft
the walls ; and their united luftre left no fhade;
nor did they caft a reverberated glare that was
dangerous to the fight; the opticians did not
promote the intereft of the oculifts. I faw not
at any corner thofe proftitutes, who, with their
feet in the kennel, their painted faces, and
looks as bold as their geftures, invited the paf-
fenger, in a brutal ftile, to an entertainment
as infipid as grofs. All thofe places of de¬
bauchery, where men went to degrade their na¬
ture, and to make themfelves contemptible in
their own eyes, were no longer tolerated ; for
every vicious inftitution has its fellow ^ they are
all connected ; unhappily for man, there is no
truth better proved than this that is fo fatal {b).
I OB

(^) It is a great misfortune to any city to be peftered

with
206 The Lamps4

I OBSERVED that there were guards who pre-

ferved the public fecurity, and prevented any
one from difturbing the hours of repofe.-
<< You there fee,” faid my guide, ‘‘ the only
fort of foldiers for which we have any occalion 5
we. have no devouring army to maintain ia
time of peace. Thofe maftifFs, which we for¬
merly nourilhed, that they might, when com¬
manded, fly upon the ftranger, were well nigh
devouring the children of the houfe ; but the
torch of war, once extinguifhed, will never,
more be relumined ; the fovereigns of the earth
have deigned to hear the voice of philofophy {a) j
con-
with a number of proftitutesj the youth exhauft their
ftrength, or perifli in a bafe and criminal debauchery j or
when totally enervated, they marry, and fufFer their
young deluded wives to languilh by their fides 5 as Colar-
deau fays, ‘‘ They refemble thofe mournful lights that *
burn by the dead, but are unable to warm their alhes.”

Semblables a ces Jlambcaux, a ces luguhres feux,

bruUnt pres des mortSf fans echauffer leur cendre,

(a) Charles XII. was in the hands of a governor void of

ability; he mounts the throne, at an age when we are
full of fenfations, and thofe that make thefirft impreffions ..
appear immutable truths; every idea feems good, becaufe
we know not which to prefer. In this pernicious flate of
 ne Lamps* 207^

connecSled by the ftrongeft bands, by thofe of

intereft, which they have difcovered after fa
many ages of error ; reafon has taken pofTefliou
of their minds; they have attentively confidered
that duty which the health and tranquility of
their people impbfes on them ; they place thein

ailivity and ignorance, he reads Quintus Curtius j he there

fees the charaderof a conquering monarch pompoufly de-.
fcribed and propofed as a model, which he adopts ; he
no longer finds any thing but war that can make a prince
illufirious} he arms 5 he advances j fome fuccefs confirms
him in his flattering pafflon j he lays wafie countries, de-
firoys cities, ravages provinces and ftates, breaks down*
thrones; he imrnortalizes his folly and his vanity. Suppofe
that he had been taught in early youth, that a king fiiould
aim at nothing but the peace and pi ofperity of his fubjedsj
that his true glory confifis in their love; that a peaceful'
heroifm, which fupports the laws and the arts, far out¬
weighs a warlike heroifm; fuppofe, in Ihort, that they,
had given him juft ideas of that tacit covenant which a
people neceftarily make with their king j that they had
pointed out to him the conquerors blafted by the tears of
their cotemporaries, and by the hatred of pofterity : his in¬
nate love of glory would have been carried toward ufeful
objeds ; he would have employed his abilities in polifhing
his people and eftablilhing their happlnefs; he would not
have ravaged Poland, but have governed Sweden. Thus,
one falfe idea, taking pofleflion of the mind of a monarch,
carries him away from his true intereft, and is the caufe
of mifery to millions of people.

glory
2o8 The Lamps,

glory in good government, preferring the plea-

fure of making a fmall number happy to
the frantic ambition of ruling over countries
defolated, or filled with ulcerated hearts, to
whom the power of a conqueror muft forever
be odious. Thefe kings, by common confent,
have fixed bounds to their dominions, and fuch
as nature itfelf feems to have afligncd, in fepa-
rating them by feas, by forefts, or mountains;
they have learned that a kingdom of but fmall
extent is fufceptible of the beft form of govern¬
ment. The fages of each nation diftated the
general treaty, and it was confirmed by an
unanimous voice ; that which an age of iron
and dirt, that which a man without virtue
called the dream of a pedant, has been realifed
among the moft enlightened and difcerning of
mankind. Thofe ancient prejudices, not lefs
dangerous, that divided men on account of
their belief, arealfo abolifhed. We regard all
men as our friends and brethren. The Indian
and the Chinefe are our countrymen, when
they once fet foot on our land. We teach our
children to regard all mankind as compofing one
and the fame family, aflembled under the eye
of one common father. This manner of think¬
ing

A
 ^he Lamps. 209'

iiig muft be the befl, becaufc it has prevailed

with inconeeivablc'rapidity. Excellent works^.
wrote by men of fublime genius, have ferved
as fo many torches to illumine a thoufand others.
Men, by increafing their knowledge, have
learned to love and efteem each other. The
Englifh, as our neareft neighbours, are become
our intimate allies \ two generous people no
longer hate each other by foolifhly efpouring
the private animofities of their rulers. Our
learning and arts unite us in a communication
equally advantageous. The Englidi, for ex*
ample, full of refletfllon, have improved the
French, who abound in levity ; and we French¬
men have diifipated furprifingly the melancholy
humour of the Englifli; thus the mutual ex¬
change has produced a fruitful fource of conve¬
niences, of pleafures, and of new ideas, happily
received and adopted. It is printing {a) that,
by
{a) It has another excellence ; it is the formidable bridle
to arbitrary power, by making public its leaft encroach¬
ments, by fufFering nothing to be concealed, and by eter¬
nizing the vices and even the weaknefs of kings. One re¬
markable a£l of injuftice is by this mean echoed through
all the nations of the earth, and roufes every free and
fenfible mind. The friend to virtue will cherifh this art 5
 rrmrrr

210 *lhe Lampu

by enlightening mankind, has produced tliis

grand revolution.’^

I SPRUNG with joy to embrace the man

who told me thefe gladforne tidings. O heaven !
1 cried with tranfport, then mankind are at laft
become worthy of thy regard; they have difcu-
veied that their real ftrength is in their union,
1 fiiall die content, fince my eyes now behold
what they have fo ardently defired. How fweet
it is, when we abandon life, to be furround-
ed by happy mortals, that meet each other
like brothers, who, after along voyage, are go¬
ing to rejoin the author of their days !

but the bad man muft tremble, when he fees the prefs
le^dy to publifli his iniquities to all ages and all nations.
 2II ]

C PI A P. XXVII.

the f u n e r j l, .
I Saw a carriage covered with white cloth, pre¬
ceded by inftruments of miific, and crown¬
ed with triumphant palms. It was condu6Ied
by men cloathed in light blue, with laurels
in their hands.—What carriage is that? I
Paid.—It is the chariot of viclory,” they re¬
plied. They that have quitted this life ;
that have triumphed over human miferies,
thofe happy men that have rejoined the fu-
preme Being,' the fource of all good, are re¬
garded as conquerors; we hold them as facredj
we bear their bodies with refpedl to the place
that is to be their eternal refidence. We fing
the hymn on the contempt of death. Inftead of
thofe grim fculls that crowned your tombs,
you will here fee heads with a fmiling air ; it
is with that afpedf we regard death. No one '
weeps over the infenfible aflies. We weep
for ourfelvcs; not for them. We conftantly
adore the hand of Providence, that has taken
them
212 '^
The FuneraL

them from the world. As we mufl fubmlt to

the irrevocable law of nature, why fliould we
not freely embrace that peaceful 'flate, wbick
cannot but improve our being [a) ?

This corpfe is going to be reduced to allies

at three miles from the city: furnaces conftantly,
burning for that purpofe, confume our mortal
remains. Two dukes and a prince are enclof-
ed in that chariot with a common citizen. By
death all are levelled ; and we then reftore that
equality which nature has obferved among her
children This wife cuftom diminiflies, in
the minds of the people, the dread of death,
at the fame time that it humbles the pride of:
the great. They then are only great in pro-
portion to their virtue; the reft, dignities,
riches, honours, are all effaced. The corupt-
able matter that compofed their bodies is riot
them; it goes to be mixt with the aftics of
their equals-; we annex no other idea to the
perifhable carcafe.

(a) He that is in great fear of death, if he be not of a

Cpnftitution remarkably timorous, is certainly a bad man.

We
 The Fulleral. 213

'We ere6l no pompous tombs, decorated

' with falfe, tumid, and puerile epithaphs {a).
Our kings, after their deceafe, do not fill their
fpacious palaces with an imaginary terror;
‘ they are no more flattered at their deaths than
during their lives. When they leave the earth,
their icy hands do not fnatch from us a part
''of your fubfiflence; they die without involv-
‘ ing a city in ruin (/^).

[a) O, death,'I blefs thy power! It is thou that fells

^he tyrants of the earth ; that bridles cruelty and am-
■ bition j it is thou that layeft in the duft thofe that the
'world had flattered, and that treated mankind with con¬
tempt ; they fall, and we breathe. Without thee our
miferies would be eternal. O, death! Who holdeft in
’ awe the inexorable and the triumphant, who pierceft
the guilty fouls with terror ; thou hope of the unfortu¬
nate j at length extend thy arm over the perfecutors of
my country, And you, devouring infe^Is, that people
the fepulchers, our friends, our avengers, come in
crowds to receive the carcafes of thofe that have fatten¬
ed by their crimes.

{b) To that funeral pomp which oftentatioufly conveys

a king to an obfcure cavern, to thofe mournful ceremo¬
nies, to thofe numerous emblems of public grief, of
univerfal mourning, what is there wanting ? One fin-
eere tear.
6 To

1
IV

The FunreaL

To prevent all accidents, no dead body Is

removed till the vifitor has fixed on it the feal
of death. This vifitor is a man of known ability,
who remarks, at the fame time, the age, fex,
the anddifeafe of the deceafed; they print in
the public papers the name of the phyfician by
whom he was attended. If in the book of re¬
flexion, that each man, as I have faid, leaves
at his death, there be any thing truly great or
ufeful, they are feleXed and publifhed, and
that is the only funeral oration in ufe amongft
us.

It is a falutary belief received amongfl us,

that the fpirit has the liberty of frequenting
thofe places that was 'dear to it; that it delights
in beholding thofe it loved; that it hangs in
filence over their heads, contemplating the
lively forro\Vof friendfiiip ; that it does not lofe
that fympathy, that tendernefs which former¬
ly united it to fenfible hearts j that it finds a
pleafure in their prefence, and in proteXing
them from thofe dangers that furround their
tender frames. Thefe benign manes corref-
pond to your guardian angels. This opinion fo
pleafing and confolatory, infpires us with a
confi-
 I

The Funeral, 215

confidence, as well in undertaking as execuc-

ing, that was unknown to you; who, far from
enjoying thefe delightful conceptions, filled
your imaginations with gloomy and frightful
chimeras.

You can eafily perceive with what a pro-

found veneration fuch an opinion infpires a
young man, who having lately loft his father,
believes that he is ftill a witnefs of his moft fe-
cret aaions. He^ talks to him in folitude;
he becomes animated by that aweful pre¬
fence which enjoins him to virtuous ac¬
tions ; and if he finds himfelf tempted to evil,
he fays, “ My father fees me! My father
hears me {a) !’*

The’young man dries up his tears, be-

caufe ihe horrible idea of inanity does not af¬
flict his foul; it feems to him that the ftiades
of his anceftors only wait for his coming that
they may advance together towerd the eternal

An opintm like this peM feem juferjiuous tc him -who

kno-ws, that the great Father of the univerfe it fertetualU
prefent to all his aBions ; hat, alas, the human mind feems
•tncapable of retaining that great idea for any long time to-

abode.
abode. And who can deny himfelf the hopes
of an immortality ! Were it even an illufion,
would it not be pleafing and aweful to us ?
I think it will not be improper to add here the follow¬
ing refle(5^ions, as they correfpond with the preceding
chapter, and may ferve to explain it. They are in the
manner of Young, though compofed in Ftench.

ocoo0000ocoooooooooooocooooo00000000000000050C030000ooooooosocooooooocoooooooeoo

An eclipfe of the Moon.

'(It is a folitary that fpeaks.)

I inhabit a fmall country houfe, that con-
tributes not a little to my happinefs. It has
two different profpeds. One is extended over
fertile plains, where grows that precious grain
that is the nourifhment of man. The other,
more confined, prefents the laft afylum of the
human race; the term that bounds its pride ;
a narrow fpace, where the hand of death lays
up, with equal care, its peaceful viftims.

The profpeft of this cemetery, far from

producing gloomy ideas, the children of a
vulgar terror, roufes in my mind wife and
ufeful refle£lions. There I no longer hear
the tumult of the town, which confounds the
mind.
 An Edipfe of the Moon, 2 17

mind. Attended by none but auguft melan¬

choly, I -am filled with important objects. I
look, with an eye, ferene and immoveable, on
that tomb where man fleeps to rife again ; when
he fhall acknowledge the munificence of na¬
ture, and juftify the Eternal Wifdom,

The pompous glare of day to me feems dull;

I wait the dawn of night, and that fweet obfeu-
rity,' which lending its charms to filence, aids
the foaring of fublimefl thought. Then, while
the bird of night, fending forth a mournful cry,
beats the thick darknefs with her heavy wing.
I feize my lyre. All hail! majeftic fiiades !
while from my eyes you hide the tranfient
feenes of this low world, to nobler fights exalt
my foul; let me behold that radiant throne,
where fits refplendentTruth !

My ear purfues the folitary bird; foonfiie fet-

tleson the fcattered bones; and with her beating
wing rolls, with a hollow found, that fcull
where lately dwelt ambition, pride, and pro-
jedbs bold and vain, f hen to fome cold fione
file flies, where ofientation graved thofe names
VoL, I. L that

1
2i8 An Echpfe of the Moon,

that time hath quite effaced ; and then to po¬

verty’s fair hillock, crowned with flowers.

Dust of proud man! that never more fhall

fee this earth, to empty titles dareft thou fllll
pretend ? O miferable pride in death’s do¬
main ! See, where the coffin, with its threefold
fides, forbids the mouldering bones to mingle
with their kindred dull.

Approach, proud mortal! to yonder tombs

direcfb thy fight. Say, what imports a name to
that which knows no name ! A falfe epitaph
expofes to the day that wretched praife, which
were far better in oblivion’s fhade concealed ;
even as the gaudy ftreamer for a moment floats,
and then the veffcl follows, by the waves de¬
voured.

O ! far more happy he, that not vain pyra¬

mids hath built, but in the path of honour and
of virtue conflant trod. He j@yful looks to
heaven i -dun when this fragile frame diffolves,
wfficre fwa-u.: of pains diftradi the immortal
foul, he gladly meets that flroke; which rills the
finner

k
 An Eclipfe of the Moon, 219

/inner with difmay. By oft re/ledling on the

bright example of the expiring jufl:, we ulfo
learn to die.

He dies, the juft man dies: he fees thofe

tears that not for him, but for ourfelves we
/lied. His brethren furround the mournful bed;
Of thofe delightful truths they talk, with which
his foul was filled, and of that Power Divine
to. him revealed fo clear. The immortal curtain
feemed to rife before his dying fight.He
raifed his radiant head, ftretched forth his
friendly hand, hefmiled, and then expired.

But thou, vile /inner! thou who in fuccefs-

ful villainy hail lived, far different thy end
fliall be, thou horrid tyrant ! Then agonizing,
pale, to thee fhall death prefent a dreadful afped;
of his bitter cup /lialt thou drink deep, drink
in all its horrors. Thou canft not lift thy eyes
to heaven, nor fix them on the earth ; for well
thou knowcfl: that both renounce, that both re-
jea thee. Expire in terrors^ that thou mayd no
longer live in hatred !

^ 2 That
i^T-. j,-.-. .>YTfri T lit •rinmhnmatK-wt--mm^^imiaiit

220 Edipfe of the Mooru

_ \
That moment dire, which turns the finirer
pale, the good man placid views ; to nature’s
fixed decrees he tranquil yields ; thefe tombs
regards as vefTels formed to purge, by fire, the
purer gold from every drofs; the mortal frame
diffolves, and to the blifsful regions flies the
foul refined. Then why regard with dread
thofe cold remains that once confined the foul?
They rather fhould remind -us of its happy
flight. The antique temple fomewhat of its
priftine majefly preferves, even when in ruins
hurled.
*

Penetrated with a facred refpeft for the

ruins of humanity, I defcended to that earth
flrcwed with the holy afhes of my brethren.
The calm, the filence, the cold immobility, all
faid to me, E’hcy fcep, 1 advanced, I avoided
treacling upon the grave of a friend but jufl fill¬
ed up ; I recollecled myfelf, that I might re¬
vere his memory ; I flopped ; I liftened at¬
tentively, as wifliing to catch fome of thofe
founds which might chance to efcape from that
celeflialharmony he now enjoys in the heavens.
The planet of the night, in her full luflre, pour¬
ed her filver beams upon the mournful fcene.
1 lifted
 ,)■

»
An EcUpfe of the Moon* 221

I lifted my eyes toward the firmament of hea¬

ven. They roll, thofe worlds innumerable,
thofe flaming funs, fo profufely fpread through
all the ethereal' fpace. Then again my fight
was fixed on that lilent grave, where perifii tile
eyes, the tongue, the heart of him with whom I
had converfed on thefe fublime wonders, and
who extolled the Author of thefe tranfcendeiit
miracles.

Suddenly there came on an eclipfe of the

moon, which I had not forefeen. I was not even '
fenfible of it till the darknefs began to furround
me. I could then difcern a fmall a fhiningv
fpace only that the fhadow haftened to cover.
A profound darknefs flopped my fteps ; I
could no longer difcover any obje6l; I loft the
path ; I turned a hundred times; the gate
I
feemed to fhun me ; the clouds gathered ; the
winds whiftled; I heard a diftant thunder *, it
arrived with uproar on the wings of the light¬
ning; my mind was confounded ; 1 ftiivered ;
I ftumbled over the fcattered bones ; terror
precipitated my fteps; icame to a tomb juft
opened to receive the dead ; I fell in ; the
grave received me Jiving ; 1 found myfelf bu¬
ried
 I

222 An EcUpfe of the Moon,

ried In the humid entrails of the earth j I fecm-

ed to hear the voice of all the dead that hailed
* my aiTival ; an icy trembling feized me \ a cold
fweat came over me funk into a lethargic
fl urn her.

Why did I not die in that peaceful flate ?

1 was already entombed ; the curtain that con¬
ceals eternity was drawn up. I do not regard
this life with horror ; 1 know how to enjoy it \
I endeavour to render it ufeful; but all
cries out from the bottom of my heart, that the
future life is preferable to theprefent.

I RECOVERED, however, my fenfations. A

faint light began to brighten the flarry vault;
feme fcattering rays pierced through the clouds;
by degrees they became more bright ; they
difperfed, and I perceived the moon half difen-
gaged from the fhadow ; at length it (hone
with all its former luflre , that folitary planet
purfued its courfe. My fpiiits returned, and I
fprung from the grave. The fre/hnefs of the air,
the ferenity of the (ky, the blufliing rays of the
morning, all re-animated me, and diflipated
thofe terrors that night had produced.
I THE?^
 An Eclipfe of the Moon, 223 ln

I THEN regarded with a fmile, the grave

that had received me into its bofom. What
was there frightful in it? It was the earth from
whence I fprung, and that demanded, after a
^ time, the portion of clay it had lent me. I then
faw none of thofe phantoms that the darknefs
had impreded on my credulous imagination. It
is that, that alone, which produces inaufpicious
images. I expelled, in this accident, to have
known what was death. I fell into the grave
with the terror of that which is, perhaps, the
foie fupport againft the troubles of this life ;
. but ,there I only experienced a gentle and, in
feme degree, even a pleafing {lumber. If this
feene was terrible, it lafled but a moment; it
fcarce exifted for me. I awaked to the bright-
nefs of a ferene and pleafing day. 1 have banidi- k
ed a childidi terror, and joy has taken pofl'eHlon
of my who'C heart. So after that tranfient
deep, which men call death, we fliall awake to
a
behold the fplendor of that eternal fun, that by
elucidating the immenfefyflem of beings, fhall.
difeover to us the folly of our timorous preju¬
dices, and an inexhauflible and unknown fource
of felicity, whofe courfe nothing can ever in¬
terrupt.
There-
 1
224. An Ed'tpfs of the AAoon^

Therefore, mortal, that thou may ft dread

nothing, be virtuous ! Whilft thou paiJeft
through the (hort path of life, put thy heart in
a oondition to fay to thee, ‘‘ Fear nothing ; ad-
vance under the eye of a God, that is th$
Univerfal Father of mankind; inftead of
^ regarding him with terror,^idore his bounty,
“ and rely on his clemency 5 have the confi-
dcnce of a fon that loves, and not the terror
of a flave|that trembles, becaufe he is guilty.”

END OF VOL. I

5*'
 . $a,JPdL

M 55 5a. f ,

MEMOIRS
OFT HE YEAR

TWO THOUSAND
FIVE HUNDRED.

Le Terns prefent eft gros de TA venir.

Leibnitz,

Tranflated from the French

By W. H O O P E - R, M. D.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
506156
S. 4-.50
LONDON,
Printed for G. Robinson, in Pater-nofter-Row.

MDCCLXXII.
 . . ?i

CONTENTS
Chap.
II.
I.

The
The King's Library
Men of Letters •
—
— — 34
III. The Academy of Science 42
IV. 7fo JErn/j C*£/W — —
. 61
,V. The Academy of Painting — — 88
VI. Emblematical Paintings. — 96
VIL and Engraving — — 10
Sculpture

VIJI. The Hall of Audience — - up

IX, The Form of Government — — tj6
X. The Heir Throne —
to the — 36 1

XI. The Women — — 15*

XII. The Taxes — _ 169
XIII. On Commerce — — 185
XIV. The Evening — — *93
XV. The —
Gazettes
207
XVI. Funeral Oration of a ~ 241
Peafant
XVII. Verfailles ~ — ~ 246

ME-
 R

Page 40. note, line 1. for Promotheus tzzà Prometheus

4. for contejiible read incontefible. Page
Page 6 5 note, line
.

80. cote, line 8. for faculty read faculties. Page 233,

line

6, for 8.67 read 1867,

 MEMOIRS
OF THE YEAR
Two Thoufand Five Hundred.

•«ooceooocoeooeo seoocooocoooeoooeoeoceoocoooceoooooocoooooooooooooooooflooooocoo*

CHAP. L
The King's Library*

A .

concerted
N unlucky door, placed near to my pillow,
!

by creeking on
my ideas.
its hinges, totally dif-
I loft fight of my guide,
and of the city ; but as the mi«d is continually
agitated by the fcene that has once
made a
ftrong impreffion, I happily returned to my
dream. I was now quite alone ; it was broad
day; and by a natural propenfity I found myfelf
in the king's library ; but more than once was I
under the neceffity of affuring myfelf
that it was
fo.

Vol. II. b 1N
2 - The King's Library.

In the room of thofe four galleries of an im-

menfe length, and which contained many thou-
fands of volumes, I could find only one fmall
clofet, in which were feveral books that feemed
to me far from voluminous. Surprifed at fo
great a change, I ventured to afk if fome fatal

conflagration had not devoured that rich col-

lection ? —" Yes," they replied; " it was a
conflagration ; but by our own hands was it de-
fignedly allumined."
4

Perhaps I have forgot to tell you, that

thefe are the mod affable people in the world ;

that they (hew a very particular regard forage i

and that they do not leply to inquiries, in the

manner of the French, by anfwering with a

queftion. The librarian, who was a man of
real learning, prefented himfelf to me ; and,
well confidering all the objections, as well as
reproaches, that I made, he gave me tlje follow-
ing account,

u Convinced, by the mod ftrict obferva-

tion, that the mind is embarraffed by a thou-
fand extrinfic difficulties, we were fenfible that
a numerous library was the feat of the greateft
4 extra-
 The Kings Library. 3

extravagancies and the mod idle chimeras. In

your time, to the difgrace of reafon, men firft

wrote and then thought. We follow the oppo-

flre and have therefore deftroyed all

courfe ;

thofe authors who buried their thoughts under

a monftrous heap of words or phrafes.

" Nothing leads the mind farther aftray

than bad books; for the firft notions being

adopted without attention, the fécond become
precipitate conclurions ; and men thus go on
from prejudice to prejudice, and from error to

to error. What remained for us to do, but to

rebuild the ftruflure of human knowledge ?

This proje£t appeared of infinite labour ; but,

in fact, we fojmd it only neccflary to deftroy
thofe ufelefs fabrics that hid from us the true
point of view ; Louvre became a new
as the
building by fweeping away the ruins that fur-
rounded it. The fciences, amidft this labyrinth
of books, were in a perpetual circulation, return-
ing inceflantly to the fame point ; and the ex-
aggerated idea of their riches ferved only to
conceal their real indigence.

B 2 " Itf
 4 . The King's Library.

" iN-facl, what did that multitude of vo-

lumes contain? For the moft part, nothing
more than perpetual repetitions of the fame
thing. Philofophy prefented itfelf to us under

the image of a ftatue, always celebrated, always

copied, but never embellifhed ; it appeared
ftill more perfect in the original. Itfeemed to
degenerate in all the copies of fil ver and gold
that have made of it doubtlefs, it
fince been ;

was more beautiful when carved in wood by a

hand almoft favage, than when covered with
extrinfic ornaments. Since men, from a
wretched indolence, have given themfelves up
to the opinion of others, they have neceflarily
become fervile imitators, deftitute of invention

and originality. What immenfe projects, what

fublime fpeculations, have been extinguifhed
by the breath of opinion ! Time has brought
down to us nothing but thofe empty, glaring
notions that have been applauded by the multi-
tude, while it has fwallowed up thofe ftrong
and bold thoughts, which were too fimple to

pleafe the vulgar.

u As our days are fhort, and ought not to

be confumed in a puerile philofophy, we have
given
 The King's Library. 5

given a decifiye ftroke to the miferable contro-

verfies of the fchools." — What have you done?
Proceed, if you pleafe. — " By an unanimous
confent, we brought together, on a vaft plain,
all thofe books which we judged either frivo-

lous, ufelefs, or dangerous; of thefe we form-

ed a pyramid, that refembled, in height and
bulk, an enormous tower •, it was certainly an-
other Babel. Journals crowned this ftrange
edifice ; and it wa3 covered, on all fides, with
ordinances of biihops, remonfh ances of parlia-
ments, petitions, and funeral orations ; it was
compofed of five or fix hundred thoufand com-
mentators, of eight hundred thoufand volumes
of law, of fifty thoufand di&ionaries, of a hun-
dred thoufand poems, of fixteen hundred thou-
£and voyages and travels, and of a milliard (a)
of romances. This tremendous mafs we fet on
fire, and offered it as an expiatory facrifice to ve-

racity, to good fenfe, and true tafte. The flames

greedily devoured .the follies of mankind, as
well ancient as modern; the fire continued
long. Some authors faw themfelves burning
alive ; their cries, however, could not extinr

(a) A thoufand m miens,

B 3 guifli
6 The Kings Library.

guifh the flames. "We found, notwithftanding,

amidft the embers, fome pages of the works of
P , of De la H , of the abbé A ;

for they were fo extremly frigid, that the fire

could have no effe&on them.

<c
We have therefore done from an en-
lightened zeal, v/hat the barbarians once did
from one that was blind : however, as we are
neither unjuft, nor like the Sarrazins, who
heated their baths with the chef d'oeuvres of
literature, we have made an cle£Hon ; thofe
of the greateft judgment amongft us have ex-
tracted the fubftance of thoufands of volumes,
which they have included in a fmall duodeci-
mo; not unlike thofe fldlful chemifts, who
concenter the virtues of many plants in a fmall

phial, and caft afide the rcfufe [a).

« We
(a) On trnVglobe, ail is revolution: the minds of men
vary to an infinity the national character, alter books,
and make thern no longer to be known. Is there any one
author, if he refkcis, that can reafonably indulge himfelf
ill the hope of not being dcfpifed by the next generation ?

Do we not deride our anceftors ? Can we fay what pro-

g e's our children may make ? Have we any idea of the

feciets that may fuddenly fpnng fiom out of the bofom of

nature }
 The Kir, g$ Library. 7

" We have abridged what feemed of mod

importance ; the bed have been reprinted ;

and the whole corrected according to the true

principles of morality. Our compofers are a

fet of men eftimable and dear to the nation ;

to knowledge they have added tafle ; and as

they are capable of producing, they have made
a judicious fele&ion. We have remarked, to
fpeak juflly, that it appertains to the ages of
philofophy only, to produce a fmall number ol

works. In yours, when real knowledge was not

fufficiently eftablifhed, it was neceflary to bring
together a great number of materials. The la-
bourer mud work before the architect.

¥ At the beginning, each fcience is treated

in parts \ every one applies his attention to that

portion which has fallen to his lot. By this me-
thod the fmalleft details are obferved -> nothing

nature ? Do we completely know

the extent of the human
understanding ? Where work that is founded on a
is the
real knowledge of the human heart, on the nature of
things, on right reafon ? Does not our phyfics prefent
us an ocean with whofe coafts we are yet fcarce acquaint-
ed ? How ridiculous, therefore, is that pride, which ig-
norantly pretends to prefcribe the bounds of any art.*

B 4 can
8 The King s Library.

can efcape.
It was neceflary for you to make an

innumerable quantity of books ; it is our bufi-

nefs to colled the fcattered parts. The igno-
rant babble eternally ; the learned and faga-
cîous fpeak little, but well.

" Tmsclofet, that you fee, contains thofe

bocks that have efcaped the flames. Their
number is fmall $ but by their merit they have
obtained the approbation of our age/'

I approached with curiofity 5 and, on ex-

amining the firft divifion, I found, that of the
C reeks, they had preferved Homer, Sophocles,
Euripides, Demofthenes, Plato, and particu-
larly our friend Plutarch ; but they had burned
Heroditus, Sappho, Anacreon, and the vile

Ariftophanes. I would have defended, in feme

degree, the caufe of Anacreon ; but I was an-
fvvered by the bed reafons in the world,

though fuch as I fhall not here mention, be-

caufe they would not be intelligible to the
prefent age.

In the fécond divifîon, appropriated to the

Latin authors, I found Virgil, Pliny, and Titus

Livy,
 Tlk Kings Library. 9-

JLivy fa) entire ; hut they had burned Lu-

cretius, except fome poetic paflages, be.*

caufe his phyfics they found falfe, and his'

morals dangerous. 'I hey had deftroyed the

tedious pleadings of Cicero, an able rhetor:

rather than a man of eloquence; but they

had preferved his philofophic works, one of
the moft precious productions of antiquity,
Salluft alfo remained. Qvid aad Horace (b)

were purged -,. the Odes of the latter appear

ed far inferior to his Epiftles. Seneca was
reduced to one fourth part. Tacitus was
preferved; but, as his writings breathe a
dark vapour that blackens the human .race, and I

(a) I have lately read this hiftorian again ; and 1 am

convinced, that the virtue of the Romans confined in fa-
crificing the human race on the altar of their country. As
citizens, they are to be applauded j, as. men, to be a b*

borred.

(b) This writer had all the delicacy, all the flowers of
wit, every poflîble urbanity ; he has, neverthelefs, been
too much admu ed in every age. His mufe inspires a vo-
luptuous repofe, a lethargic flumber, a pliant and dange-
rous indifference; it, therefore, muft pleafe the courtier
and every effeminate mind, whofe whole morality is con-
fined to theprefent moment, and to the enjoyment of fo.fi.

aa&folitary pleafures.

&S as
 10 Tfje Kings Library.

as we ought not to nourifh a bafe idea of man-

kind, for tyrants are not of their number, the
reading of this profound author was permitted
to thofe only whofe hearts were well formed.
Catullus and Petronius had vanifhed in fmoke.
Qumtilian was reduced to a volume of the
fmalleft fize.

The third divifion contained the Englifl>

authors, and here I found the greateft number
cf volumes. Here I faw all thofe philofophers
that warlike, commerciant, and politic ifle

hath produced ; Milton, Shakefpeare, Pope,

Young (<?), andRichardfon, here ftill enjoyed
their

(a) M. TournetM* has published a translation of this

poet, which has had the greateft and moft determined
fuccefs. Every one has read this moral work j
(the au-
thor muft here allude te the Night thoughts,) every one ad-
mires that fublime language, which elevates, cheers, and
captivates the foul $ becaufe it is founded on great truths,
prefents great objecls only, and derives all its dignity from

their real grandeur. For my own part, I have never read

any thing fo original, fo new, nor even fo interesting. I

admire that profound fentiment, which, though always

the fame, yet has an infinity of connexions and diverrl-
ties 5 it is a ftream by which I am borne down j I am
pleafed with thofe ftrong and lively images whofe boldnefs
 The Kings Library. XI

their full renown; their creative genius knew

no reftraint, while we are obliged to rneafure all
our

correfpond with the fubjecT: to which they are applied.

We there fee, moreover, the moft demonftrative proofs of
the immortality of the foul j in no part is the mind fo

much ftruck as in this $ the poet attacks the heart, fubdues

ir, and deprives it of all power of contraction $ fuch is

the magic of exprefiion, the force of eloquence, that it

leaves a poignant fenfation in the mind.

Young is in the right, in my judgment, (though, in

the translator's note, cenfure lias extorted a different opi-
nion) when he a/ferts, that, without the profpect of eier-
ni y and future rewards, virtue would be but a name, a

chimera : Aut <virtus nomen Inane tft, ant deem et pretium yefle
petit expertens vir, What is that good from which there
refults no good, either in this world or in the other ?

What good refultr, in this world, from virtue to fuffering

innocence ? Afk of a dying Brutus, a Cato, a Socrates.

You there fee ftoicifm at its laft proof, and there it fat ly

difcovers the vanity of the feci. I remember, and ever

mail remember, a fti iking expreflion of J. J. Routfeau to

a friend of mine. He was fpeaking of a proportion made

to him of making his fortune by a means that was dif-

gracefuJ, but of a nature to be kept feci et. " Sir,** he

faid, (i
thank God, I am not a mateiialift; ill were, I

mould not be worth more than all of them are. I know,

of no reward, but that which is attached to virtue."

r
I freely con efs, that I am not more worthy than Rouf-
feauj and would to God, that I were as wonhy ! bur, if

B 6 I thought
12 The King* s Library.

our words ; the fruitful energy of thofe free

fouls was the admiration of a difficult age.
That futile reproach we make them, of their
wantoftafte, was difregarded by men, who>
charmed with juft and flrong ideas, could read

with affiduity, and knew how to meditate on

1 thought myfelf altogether mortal, I would in ftantly be-

come my own deity ; I would make all things fubfervient
to my divinity, that is, to myfelf 5 I woulft ptactife what
they call virtue, when it promoted my pleafure $ and, in
like manner, vice. I would 10b today, to give to my
friend or miftrefs 5
quarrel with, and rob them to-mor-
row, to gratify fome trifling pleafure \ and in all this 1

ihould act very confequentially, becaufe I fliould always do

that which is agreeable to my divinity 5 whereas, by lov-
ing virtue for the fake of a reward, and that reward not
being attached to arbitrary actions, I am obliged to govern
myfelf, not by my momentary inclination, but by that in-

variable rule which the Eternal Legiftator and Remunerator

has prefcribed» It will therefore frequently happen, that
1 muft do what I ought, though not what 1 pleafe • and>
if my liberty decides for that which is right, in oppofition

to a contrary inclination, then I do that which I would,

not that with which I am pleafed. If it had been the wilt
of God to direct us by a love for goodnefsonly, he would
have given usa rational mind, without having added the
fenfibility of the heart $ but he guides us by the profpect
of rewards, becaufe he has made us liable to pallions and
affections»

what
 The Kings Library. 13

what they had read. They had, however, cut

off from the philofophers thofe dangerous fcep-
tics who would have fhaken the foundations of
morality j that virtuous people, influenced by
what they felt, difdâined fuch vain fubtilties ;

for no argument could convince them that vir-

tue was a chimera.

In the fourth di'vifibn were the Italian au*

thors. The Jerufalem Delivered, that moifc

beautiful of all poems, was at the head of them.
They had, however, burned a whole library of
criticifms againft that enchanting poem. The
celebrated Tread fe on Crimes and Puni fo-
ments had received all the perfe&ion of which,

tbat important work was fufceptible. I was

agreeably furprifed to fee a number of judicicus
and philofophic works, which had arofe from 1

out the bofom of that nation. They had bnoke

that talifman which feemed to promife a per-
petuity of ignorance and fuperftition amongft
them. ^

At laft, I came to the French writers. I

haftily feized the firft three volumes 5 they

were Defcartes, Montaigne, and Charron.
Mon-
 14 The King's Library.

Montaigne had fufTered fome retrenchment ;

but as he is the philofopher, who of all others

was the beft acquainted with human nature,
his writings were preferred, though all his
ideas are not absolutely irreproachable. The
vifionary Ma'lebranche, the gloomy Nicole,
the unpitying Arnauld, and the cruel Eourda*
loue, they had burned. All that related to fcho-
laftic difputes was fo. completely deftroyed, that

when Ifpoke of the Provençial Letters and the

deftruclion of the Jefuits, the learned librarian
made a very great anachronifm, of which I

informed him, and received a candid ac-

knowledgment. I could never meet with thofe
Provençial Letters, nor the moft modern hifto-
ry of that grand affair ; they talked of the Je-
fuits, as we at this day do of the Druids.

Into an oblivion, from whence they fhould

never come forth, were caft that crowd of
theologians called fathers of the church, writers
the moft fophiftic, the moft whimfical, obfcure,
and irrational, that were ever diametrically op-
c<
pofed to Locke or Clark. They feem," faid
the librarian, u to have fet boundsto human

iuianity.'?
I SEARCHED
 —
The King's Library. 15

I searched for\ I examined the authors of

iïiy acquaintance. Heavens! what deftruftion !

what mighty works evaporated in fmoke !

"Where is that famous Bouflet, who, in my

time, figured in fourteen quarto volumes ? I

was a'nfwered, " They are all vanifhed."

What ! that eagle who ibared to the higheiï re-
gions of the air ? that genius " What, in
conference, could we preferve ? That he had
genius we allow (a) -, but to a wretched uic
did he apply it. We have adopted the maxim
of Montaigne : Let us not inquire who is the mojî

learned^ but who is the bejl learned. The uni ver -

fal hiftory of that Bouflet was nothing more
than a miferable fkeleton of chronology (b). It

had
(a) What benefit might not human reafon have
received from fuch men as Luther, Calvin, Me-
lanchtbon, Erafmus, Bouflet, Pafchal, Arnauld, Nicole,
&c. if they had employed their genius in attacking the er-
rors of the human mind, in improving morality, legifla-

tion, and phyfics, inftead of oppofing or eftablifhing ridi-

culous dogmas !

(b) To give an air of truth to chronology, they have

formed certain epochs $ and on this delufive foundation
they have erected that imaginary fcience, which has been
entirely directed by caprice. They know not to what
period
 —

1'6 72^ Kiug^s Library,.

had befide, a turn fo affected, and there were To

many refleftions of immoderate length, that ac-
companied that meagre production, that we can
fcarce think it was read for more than half a
century/* — But, at leaft, his Funeral Orations^
** We are highly incenfed againftthem j they
breathe the miferable language of fervitude and
adulation* Shall a mini (1er of the God of peace»
of the God" of truth » mount the pulpit to extol
a gloomy politician^ an avaricious ftatefman, a,

mean woman s a blood-thirfty hero 5 and agi-

tated like a poet with thedeicription of a bat-

tle, never utter one figh when thinking on that

horrid fcourge that defolates the earth. At
that moment» he has no thought of maintain-
ing the laws of humanity, of declaring to an
ambitious monarch, by the facred voice of reli-
gion, ftrong and 1

terrible truths ; he rather

wifhes to hear it faid, That man talks well ; be

makes the encomiums of the deady while their ajhes

period they mould refer the principal revolutions of the

world, and yet they would fix the age in which each king
reigned. The greaieft errors reft fecure by means of
chronological calculations. They fet out, for example,

from the foundation of Rome ; and that foundation is fdp-

ported by probabilities, or rather fuppofitions*
 The King^t Library, ij

ire yet warm. With much better reafon womd be

give a gooddofe ofincenfe to mwaichs that are JIM

living,

u We are no friends to Boufiet ; for he was

not only a man proud and obdurate, a courtier
fawning and ambitious, but tahim alfowe owe
thofe funeral orations, which have fince multi-
plied like funeral torches, and which, like them,
exhale a noxious vapour as they pafs. This fpe-

cies of flattery appears to us the moft odious*

futile, and dangerous of all others ; for it is at

ôncefalfe, ftupid,and fhamelefs, and confiant»

ly contradicts the public voice, which echoes
again ft thofe walls where the orator, whilft
pompoufly declaiming, inwardly laughs at thofe

falfe colours with which he has drefled: out his

Mo!.

11
Behold his rival, his gentle and modeft
conqueror, the amiable, the pathetic Fenelon.
His Telemachus and other works we havq
carefully preferved, beçaufe in them we find a.

rare and happy agreement between reafon and

fenfibility (<j). To have compofed the Tele-
machus
(*) The French academy have propofed his eulogy as

th«
 8

•
1 The Kings Library..

machus at the court of Lewis XIV. appeats to

ns an admirable, aftonfihing virtue. Certainly
that monarch did not comprehend the book ;

and that is the moft favourable fuppofition we

can make for his honour. Doubtlefs,' that work
required a more extenfive knowledge, a more
profound penetration ; but, with all its fimpli-
city, what force, what truth, what dignity, is

there difplayed ! We have placed next to his,

the works of the good abbé St. Pierre, whofe
pen was weak, but his heart fublime. Seven
ages have given to his great and beautiful ideas
a juft maturity. His cotemporaries regarded
fiim as a vifionary . his dreams, however, have,

become realities."

Among the French poets, I found Cor-

neille, Racine, and Molière \ but their com*

the next prize for eloquence 5 but if the work be what it

ought to be, the academy cannot crown the difcourfe.

Why give fubjecls that cannot be treated in their full ex-
tent ? 1 admire, however, this fpecies of writing, where,
by investigating the genius of a great man. the art itfelf
gated and exemplified.
is invefti We have had excellent
works of this kind, and efpecially thofe of M. Thomas,
which is the rooft infttuclive bo:k we can put into the
hands of a young man, and from which he may draw at
once ufeful knowledge and a rational love for glory.

mentators
 —

The King's Library. jg

mentators were burned (#). Iafked a queftion
of the librarian, that will probably be afkedfeven
centuries hence, To which of the three do you
give the prefence ? H We underftand but lit-

tle of Molière," he replied ;

" the manners
that he painted are paft ; he feems to us to have
attacked ridicule more than vice, and you had
more vicious than ridiculous qualities (^). For
the two tragedian s,whofe colours are moredur-
able, I know not how a man of your age can

{a) They are the works of envy or ignorance. Thefe

commentators, with their zeal for the law» of grammar,.
excite my pity. The worfl defliny that can attend any
man of genius, either living or dead, is to be judged by
pedantifm, which fees nothing, and feels nothing. Thefe
wretched critics, who creep from word to word, refemble
thofe purblind mortals, who miferably pore over every
ftroke of a picture of Le Seuer or Pouflîn, inrtead of em*
bracing the whole at one view.

{b) It is not true, as advanced in the eulogy on Molière*

that the cure of the ridiculous is more eafy than that of V e
vicious. But, ifitweie, to which diforder of the human
heart fhould we ûrîï apply remedies ? Shall the poet be-
come an accomplie; in the general pervetfity, and be the
firft to adopt thofe miferable compacts, which bad men
m.'-ke the better to difguife their viJlainy ? Unhappy is he
who does not fee the full effect that an excellent drama can
produce, who is ignorant of the fublimity of that faience
which can unite ali hearts in one.
aft
XO The King*s Library.

afk the queftion. He who excelled all others m

painting the human heart, who elevated and
enlarged the miné to the greateft degree he ;

who was thebeft acquainted with the (hocks of

paflion an*! the depths of policy, had doubtlefs

more genius than his harmonious rival [q\ who,

with a ftyle more correft and flowing, had lefsof
force and concifion, who had not the piercing
view, nor the etevation>nor the fire, nor theargu-
ment,northe amazing diverfity of chara£ters, of

the other. Add to this the moral aim, conftant-

ly marked in Corneille, and which drove man-
kind towards the element of every virtue, to-
wards liberty. Racine, after effeminating his
heroes, effeminated the fpe&ators (b). Tafte

(a) Corneille has frequently an original air of freedom

and fimplicity, and even fometrung more natural than
Racine.

(£) Racine and Boileau were two dartardly courtiers,

who approached their monarch with the awe of two trades-
men of the Rue St. Dennis. It was not fo that Horace fre-
quented Auguflus. Nothing can be more mean than tho
letters of thefe two poets, in raptures to find themfelvesat
the court. It is difficult to conceive of more miferable pro-
ductions. Racine at laftdied of chagrin, becaufe Lewis
XIV. caft a contemptuous look at him in the public
walks*

is
 The King's Library. %i

is die art o£ elevating low fubje£ls; and in this

Corneille was inferior to Racine. Time, that
fovereign judge, who equally deftroys both eu-
logies and cenfures, time has declared, and has
placed a wide diftance between them ; the one
i6a genius of the fir ft order; the other, fome few
paft ages borrowed f>om the Greek excepted, is

nothing more than a fine writer, as was olferv-

ed in his own age. In your time, men had no
longer the fame energy ; they required finifhed
works, and the great has ever a certain rough-
nefs attending it ; ftyle was then become the
principal merit, as is conftantly the cafe
with thofe nations that are enfeebled and cor-
rupted,

I here found the terrible Crebillon, who

has painted crimes in all thofe frightful colours
by which they are charafterifed. This people
fometimes read his works, but never fuffer

them to be a died.

It is eafy to be imagined, that I recollefted

my friend Fontaine, equally beloved and con-

ftantly
 $2 The King's Library.

ftantly read [a). Molière, that jufl: judge of

merit, prefented this firft of moral poets vvitl>

immortality. Fable, it is true, is the allego-

rical language of a flave, who dares not talk to

his mafter ; but, at the fame time,
it mode- as

rates that feverity which there may be in truth,

it muft conftantly be highly valuable in a world
^expofed to all forts of tyrants. Satire is, perhaps,
the weapon of defpair alone.

How far has this age placed that inimitable

fabulift above Boileau (b) 9 who (as the abbé
Coftard fays) made himfelf the dictator of Par-

fa) Fontaine was the confidant of nature, and merited,

by pre-eminence, the title of poet. I amfurprifed at the
audacity of thofe who have fince wrote fables with the
preemption of imitating him.

(b) The critic who only endeavours to depreciate an

author, inftead of explaining him, difcovers his own va-

nity, ignorance, and jealoufy. His malignity will not let

him clearly difcern the good and bad parts of a book. Cri-
ticifm belongs to them only whofe judgment and candour
are not, in any degree, infecled by perfonal intereft. Cri-
tic, know ihyfelf j and if thou wouldft form a right judg-

, ment of any work, remember, that depending on thy

own lights only, thou canft judge of nothing.

naflus,
 The King's Library. 23

naffus, and who, void of invention, force,

grace, and fentiment, was nothing more than

a tame and fcrupulous verfifier. They had
preferved feveral other fables, among which
were feme by La Motte, and thofe of Niver-
nois (a).

The poet Roufleau made a diminutive

-figure : they had preferved fome of his odes and
cantatas, but all his gloomy epiftles, his te-

dious and dry allegories* his Mandragora, his

epigrams, the work of a depraved heart, had
.all, it is eafy to imagine, perifhed in thofe
ilames they had long defervecl. I cannot here
enumerate all the falutary mutilations that had
been made in many works otherwife juftly re-
nowned. I faw none of thofe frivolous poets,
who flattered themfelves that the tafte of their
age, which diffufed over the molt ferious fub-
jefts that falfe varnifti of wit which debafes
reafon, would have preferved them (b). All
thofe

(a) Seven hundred years hence, it will not be remem-

bered, perhaps, that this charming fabu!ift was a duke,

and wore a blue ribband, but doubdefs that he was a

uprightly philofopher.

(h) When Hercules faw the ftatue of his favourite Ado-

S.4 The Ring's Library.

thefe fallies of a light and giddy imagination*

reduced to their juft value, were evaporated,
like thofe fparks that fhine with the greater
luftre only to be the fooner extinguifhed. All
thofe writers of romances, whether hiftoric,
moral, or political, where fcattered truths are
only met with by chance ; and thofe in which
the objeft is not confidered in all its dif-

ferent points of view ; and laftly, thofe who

led aftray by a prejudice for a particular fyftem,
had followed their own ideas only; all thefe au-
thors, I fay, deluded by the abfence or prefence
of genius, had difappeared, or had undergone
thcpruning-knife of a judicious critic, which
is far from being a fatal inftrument (a). Sa-
gacity and a love of order had prefided over this
new ftru&ure ; as in thofe thick forefts where
the branches, intwined with each other, conceal
all the paths, and where there reigns an eternal

nis, in the temple of Venus, he cried out, u There is no

divinity in thee." The fame may be faid of all thofe po-

lished, delicate, ingenious, and effeminate works.

(a) It would be a work worthy of a man of found judg-

ment, to form a rational and cemprehenfr/e catalogue of
the bed books in every fcience, and to point out the man-
ner of reading them, and thofe partages that are mod wor-
thy of a tention.

and
 The Kings Library. 2*5

and noxious (hade"; if the induftry of man bears

the hatchet and the flame, the genial rays of
the fun enter, the flowery paths recreate the
fight, and we traverfe each route without fear or

difguft. I perceived in a corner a curious book

which feemed to me judicioufly compofed, and
was intitled, Ufurped Reputations. It contain-
ed the reafons that determined the extinction of
many books, and of the contempt that was caft
on the pen of certain writers, who were never*
thelefs admired in their own age. The fame
book redreffed the wrongs pf the cotemporaries
of great men, when their adversaries were un*
juft, jealous, or blinded by fome other paf-
iîon (a). I chanced to lay my hand on a Voh
taire, O heavens ! I cried, to what a fize is

lieflirunk! Where are thofe twenty-fix quarto

volumes that flowed from his brilliant, exhauflr-

lefs pen? If that celebrated writer could come

again upon the earth, how would he be afh>

(a) There ftill remains a good book to be wrote, though

already done ; Great "Events from Utile Caufes. But, where
Î3 the man who can difcover the real clue 5 I will men*
tion another, very proper for the prefent age, The Place-
men toho become Perfe:utors to fer<ve the Bafenefs of thofd they

de$f>ife\ and one more, The Crimes of Sovereigns.

Vol. II C nifhed !
 —

26 .
The King* s Library.

niflied! u We have been obliged to burn a

large portion," was replied. " You know-
that fine genius paid a tribute, fomewhat too
large, to human frailty. He precipitated his
ideas, he gave them not time to ripen.
He preferred whatever had the character of
boldnefs, to a flow difcufiion of the truth.
Rarely had his writings any depth. He was a
rapid fwallow that glanced with grace and eafe
along the furface of a large river, where he
drank, and dipped his wings as he fkimed
along. He was at once a man of genius and
of wit. We cannot refufe him the firfl, the
moft noble and amiable of virtues, the love

of humanity. He has combated with ardour

for the intereft of man. He rot only de-

teftcd, but rendered deteftable, perfecution
and tyranny of every kind. He brought
a rational and affecting morality on the ftage.

He has painted heroifm in its proper colours.

In a word, he was the greateft poet of the
French nation. We have preferved his Epo-
peae ; for, though the plan be trifling, yet the
name of Henry IV. has rendered it immortal.
We are, above all, captivated with his beauti-
ful tragedies, in which there fhines a pencil fo

facile,
 The Kings Library, *Jf

facile, fo various, and To juft. We have alfo

preferved all his profe pieces, where he is not

ridiculous, too fevere, or improperly fatyrical;

, it is there he is truly original (*). But you

know* that toward the fifteen laft years
of his life, he had only a few remaining ideas,

{a) I am charmed with the painter of nature, who lets

his pencil run freely over the cloth, who prefers a certain

eafy and bold liberty, that gives a luftre to his colours.j

to that frigid precifion, that tame regularity, which con-
ftantly reminds me of the art, and its fubrerfuges. O,
how brilliant is the writer who gives himfelf up entirely
to his genius 1 Who indulges in voluntary negligencies,
and fhews, with a light hand, happy and variegated
touches. Who deigns to have foibles, is pleafed with a
certain irregularity, and never fo engaging as when in
diforder. Behold the man of fuperlative genius. A tedious
fymmetry can pleafe none but fots. Every man of a lively

imagination, wimes that we would aid him with our

wings It is to this happy vivacity, which roufes the
minds, that we owe the crowd of readers. Like the
elementary fire, the writer mould be forever in action*
But this fecret is communicated only to the few. The
numbers labour, fweat, make a thou fand efforts to obtain
a gelid perfection, He who is born to wiire in a bold,
rapid, brilliant ftyle, above all rules, with the fame
ftroke of his pen exprefs his idea, and imprints it with
pleafure on the heart of his reader. Behold Voltaire,
who, like a flag, bounds over the plains of literature,

while fome pretended imitator, fome congealed copyifts,

fuch as La H***, comes like a toi toife, creeping after.

C 2 which
 28 "The Kings Library.

which he reprefented under a hundred diffe-

rent faces. He perpetually retailed the fame
fubjeâ:. He engaged in controverfies with
thofe he ought to have defpifed. He had
the misfortune to write infipid and grofs re-
flexions againft J. J. Roufleau ; a furious
jealoufy fo far tranfported him, that he even
wrote without judgment. were obliged We
to burn thofe wretched performances, which
would have dishonoured him to the moft diflant
pofterity ftill more jealous of his glory than
;

he was himfelf, we have been obliged to de-

flroy one moiety of that great man to pre-
ferve the other."

I am charmed, I cried, to find, that you

have preferved J. J. Rouffeau entire. What
a work is the Emelius [a) ! What a fenfibility
of foul is diffufed over that beautiful romance,
thenewEloifa ! What bold, comprehenfive, and
penetrative ideas in his letters to De la Mon-
tagne ! What vigor, what fire in his other
works ! With what thought does he infpire his

(a) What infipidities have been printed againft this

immortal work ! How can a man dare to write when

he knows not even how to read.
reader !
 The King's Library. 29

reader ! Every particular appears to me worthy

to be read. — " So we have judged/' replied
the librarian " There muft have been a very
mean and cruel pride in your age. In fa£t,

you muft not have underftood him ;

your
trifling difpofition woul^l not permit you to
purfue his arguments. He had reafon to def-
pife you. 'Your philofophers themfelves were
of the vulgar people. But I think we are
agreed concerning this philofopher, it is there*

fore needlefs to fay more.

In turning over the books of the lafl di-

vifion, I faw with pleafure many works for-

merly dear to my nation. L'Efprit des Loix ;

L'Hiftoire Naturalle ; the book De l'Efprit

commented in fome parts (a). Nor had they

excluded the friend of man, the Belifarius;
the works of Linguet ; the eloquent harangues
©f Thomas (b) St. Servan, Dufaty, Le Tour-
neur^

(a) The fpider draws poifon from the fame rofe

whence the bee extracts honey ; fo à bad man frequent!/

nourishes his malignity from the fame book whence a
good man derives the greateft confolation.

(b) There is at prefent no tribune for harangues 5 elo-

quence however is not dead. It ftill fpeaks, fometimes
C 3 thunders 5
30 Tlje Kings Library.

neur, and the difcourfes of Phocion. I diflm-

guifhed the numerous and philofophic works
that the age of Louis XV. had produced (a).

The Encyclopedia was formed on a new and

more happy plan. Inftead of that wretched
practice of reducing all things to a dictiona-
ry, that is, of mincing the feveral fciences>
they had preferved each art entire. With a
fingle glance of the eye you faw all their dif-

ferent parts. This work contained vaft and

exact drafts that followed each other in regu-
lar order, and were connected in a fimple
and pleafing manner. All that had been
wrote againft the Chriftian religion was burn-
ed* as books that were become abfolutely
ufelefs.

I inquired for the hiflorians, and the

librarian faid, " We affign that province in
part to our painters. Facts have a philofo-

thundets ; and though it cannot roufe us to virtuous

fentiments, yet, at leaft, it confounds us with fhame.

(a) The philofopher who is employed in examining

the nature of man, of policy and manners, dift'afes ufe~
ful lights over the community 5 his detractors are eithtt
fots, or malignant citizens.

phicaï
 The King's Library. 31

pbieal certainty, which is to be exprefled by

the pencil. What is hiftory? In reality no-'
thing more than the knowledge of faCts. The !

reflections and inferences appertain to the'

hiftorian, and not to the fcience itfelf. The

facfts however are innumerable. What po-
pular reports ; what fuperannuated fables ;

what endlefs details ! The tranfaCtions of each

age are the moft interesting of all others for
the cotemporaries ; and of all ages, thofe of
the prefent only are not to be investigated.
They have wrote laborioufly of ancient and
foreign hiftory, but have turned their atten-
tion from prefent fa£t$ (a). The fpirit of
conjecture is difplayed at the expence of accu-
racy. Many have fo little known their own
weaknefs, that feveral fingle pens have at-
tempted an univerfal hiftory, more romantic
than the good Indians, who allowed at leaft

four elephants to fupport the world. In a

word, hiftory has been fo disfigured, fo fluff-

ed with falfhoods and puerile reflections, that

a romance, to every judicious mind, is more

(a J This is natural enough in France, where there is fo

much danger in writing on recent facls^ but, to our good

firtune, it is not fo here,

C 4 elegible
32 The King's Library*

e legible than thofe colle&ions of fa£ts 5 where,,

as on a boundlefs ocean, we fail without a:

compafs [a }^

* We. have made a flight extraft, "painting:;

each age in ftrong characters, -and defcribing

thofe perfons only who have had a real influ-
ence on the defuny of empires (b). We have
omitted thofe reigns where there were nothing
to be feen but wars and cruelties. They,
ought to be concealed ; for nothing fhpuld be.
prefented that will not do honour to humani-

(a) When we reflect on the nature of ths human mind,

we muft be convinced of the impoflibility of a real anci-

ent hiftory. The modern is more probable ; but between

probability and truth there is aimoft as great a diftance,
as between truth and falihood.^ Moreover, we learn no-,

thing from modern hiftories. Each hiftcrian accom-

modates the facls to his ideas, aimoft in the fame man-
ner as a cock does the difhes to his palate ; we mu(V
dine in the tafte of the cock $ we muft read in the hu-
mour of the hiftorian.

(£) To fay the reign of Charles VI. or Louis XIII. is

a mifnomer, and muft miflead the unattentive reader. A

monarch, who has no influence on the age in which he
lives, as is frequently the cafe, mould be ranked in the

clafs of common men, and we mould fay, for example,

after the death of Henry IV. wejbji kqiu describe th: age

9/ Rickelieu, &c.
ty..
 The Kings Library. 33

ty. It is perhaps dangerous to preferve all

the excefles to which vice has been extended.

The number of the guilty feems to palliate
the crime; and the fewer outrages we
fee, the lefs we are tempted to commit them.
We have treated human nature like that fon.
wrro revered his father, and covered with a<

vail the diforders of ebriety."

I approached the librarian, and a(ked, in a

Ibw voice, for the Age of Louis XV. which
might ferve as a continuation to that of Louis

XIV. by Voltaire. I found that it had been

compofed in the twentieth century. Never
have I read any thing more curious, more
Angular and aftonifhing. The hiftorian, from a
regard to the extravagance of the circumftances,
hadnotfacrificed any detail; My curiofity, my
aftonifhment redoubled at every page. I was
taught to reform many of my ideas ; and to
know, that the age in which we live, is, of
all others, the moft diftant from us. I laugh*
ed, I admired greatly ; but I wept at leafi as-
much I can fay no more here ; the
C 5 cyents
34 The Men of Letters.

events of the prefent day are like fruit tHàti

fijiould not be tafted till it is ripe(tf)'

CHAP. IF.

The Msn of Letters,

AS I went out of the

accofted me, and we entered
library, a ftranger

into con»
verfation. It was concerning, men of letters*

I have known but few in my time, I faid,

but thofe I have known were gentle, modeft,

friendly, and full of probity. If they had de-
feats, they redeemed them by fo many valu-
able properties, that a man muft be in*
capable of friendfhip who had not an attach-
ment to them. Envy, ignorance, and calumny
have disfigured the characters of authors ; for
every public man is expofed to the brutal dif-

courfe of the. vulgar, who, however ignorant

(a) Time produces all things. Thofe fecrets which

are thought to be completely concealed will offer them*
fclves to the public, as the rivers run into the fea. To,
our children all will be known.

they
 Th* Men of Utters. 35

they may be, pronounce boldy (a). The great,

as deftitute, for the moft part, of talents as of

virtue, are jealous of their attra£Hng the re-
gard of the nation, and pretend to defpife
them (/>)• Writers have alfo frequently, to

combat

(à) A man of this clafs who Is incapable of writing

a fingle line, but has a talent for verbal fatire, in con*
fequence of ridiculing authors, and gratifying malignity,
becomes at laft perfuaded, that he is himfelf a man of
tarte and ingenuity 5 but he is miferably deceived, both
in judging of himfelf and of others,

(b) It is not to the moft powerful monarchs, nor to\

the moft opulent princes, nor to the chief rulers of ai
nation, that moft ftates owe their fplendor, force and x

glory. It is private perfons, who have made the moft

aftoniihing improvements in the arts, in fciences,

and even in the art of government. Who meafured

the earth? Who difcovered the fyftem of the heavens?
Who invented thofe curious manufactures with which-
we are cloathed ? Who has laid open the fecrets of na-
tural hiftory ? Who has explored the intricacies ofche-
miftry, anatomy, and botany ? Certainly private perfons j
who, in the eye of the wife man, muft eclipfe the pre-

tenders to greatnefs, thofe proud dwarfs, who cheriftt

nothing but their own vanity. In effecT, it is not kings/

jminifters, perfons inverted with authority that govern-*
the world. No, it is thofe men of fuperior genius, who
cry to their cotemporaries, with a bold and irrefiftible*

voice, Banijh thofe ivretcked prejudices furjue more ekvat*

5

C 6 id-i
36 The Men of Letters.

combat with the contemptible tafte of the

public, who, the more it is enriched by their
works, becomes the more fparing of its ap-
plaufe, and fometimes abandoning works of
genius, run gaping after fome wretched buf-
foonery. In a word, they have need of the
greateft fortitude to fupport themfelves in a
carreer where the pride of mankind offers them
a thoufand indignities. They have, however,,
braved both the infolence and difdain of the
great, and the ignorant attacks of the vulgar.
A juft renown, by blading their enemies, has ;

crowned their noble efforts with fuccefs.

" I acknowledge this portrait to be juft, ,>7

my interlocutor politely replied, "Men of let-
become the moft refpe&able of citizens.
ters are

Everyone feels how defirable it is to be diflblved

in tendernefs ; it is the moR lively pleafure the
mind can enjoy. It is to them, therefore, that
the ftate has confided the care of developing

ed thoughts, defpife-what thou baft fodlijhly reJpeBed, and'

rtJpeB that which, through ignorance, thou haft defpifed
;
-profit by thy paft follies, and ham better to diftinguijh the
rights of mankind-, adopt the ideas that I have fet before thee.
Vhy route is dearly traced, march ! And I will anjiverfor thy,
Juçcefu

this
 The Men of Ltttem 37
this principle of virtue. By exhibitinginajeftic,

terrible, and tender pictures, and by improv-

ing the fenfibility of mankind, they difpofe
them to all thofe great qualities that proceed

fromit. We find," he continued, u that the

writers of your age, as to what concerns mo-
rality, and grand and ufeful purfuits, have far
furpafied thofe of the age of Lewis XIV. They
have freely painted the faults of kings, the mis-
fortunes of the people, the ravages of the paf-
fions, the efforts of virtue, and even the fuccefs-
of vice; faithful to their vocation (#), they have

{&) The famous Locufta, fkilful m the art of preparing:

fubtle poifons, was lodged by Nero in his palace 5 and fo
defirous was he of preferving a woman fo ufeful to his de-
fjgns, tha: he appointed guards to attend her. It was fhc
who compofed the cup by which Britannicus perifhedi
When the poifon had blackened the vifage of that unfortu-
nate prince, Nero caufed it to be fpread over with white-
paint, fo that it appeared with the palenefs of a natural
death j but, as they bore it to the tomb> a fudden and co-
pious (how er of rain warned off the paint, and expofed '

what the tyrant thought he had fafely concealed. I find

in this fact an allegory fufficiently juft. Princes fondly ca-
refs faithful monfters ; and either from ftupidity, or con-
tempt of the laws, or a confidence in their own power,
they think to conceal their real qualities from the public $
but foon hiftory, the fudden mower, wames off the falfé
«cburs, and all their vices Hand full expofed to view.
had
j9 ¥he Men of Letters;

had the intrepidity to infutt thofc bloody tro- :

phies which fervility and error had confecrated'

to tyranny. Never was the caufe of humanity-
more ftrongly pleaded ; and though they have-
îoft it by an inconceivable fatality, yetthefc
dauntlefs advocates remain not the lefs covered
with glory.

*' All the ftreams of light that have ifiued

from thefe vigorous and undaunted fouls, are

preferved and tranfmitted from age to age (a) y

like a feed that for a long time is trod under
foot, but being fuddenly tranfported, by a fa-

vourable wind to fome. place of (helter, it

fprings up, increafes, becomes a tree, whofe

fpreading branches prefent both ornament and
refuge.

<c If, better informed of the nature of true

greatnefs, we defpifethe pomp and oftentatioix
of power ; if we turn our eyes towards thofe ob*
jecls that- are worthy the refearch of men we ;

(a) Men of common capacities, and they who have nor

fathomed the depths of government beyond a certain point,

are very far from being able to difcover the connections of

fpeculation and fcience with the riches and happinefs of a
nation,
fliall

7
 The- *Mcn: rf Letters #JL

ffiallfind that it is to letters we owe it (a). Ou*

writers have ftill fuarpafled yours in courage ; if

a prince deviates from the laws, they revive

the renowned tribunal of the Chinefe ; they

engrave his name on a dreadful plate of biafs*

by which his-difgrace is eternally recorded-

Hiftory in their hands is the rock to falfe glory,

the fentenGe pafied on illuftrious criminals, the

crucible from which the- hero exhales, if he
has not been a man.

Ci
How ought the princes of the earth, who
complain that all who approach them areaffecl-

ed by conftraint and diffimulation,. to be con*

founded! Have they not always- with them
thofe dumb, but independent and intrepid ora-

{a) We may afifert, with' a degree of certainty, that the

new lights, which are every day difcovered, defcending by

degrees in almofVevery ftate, will, by a fare method, anni-
hilate the prefent capricious jumble of laws, and fubftitute
others more natural and more ju(V; the judgment of the
public will have a powerful and penetrating voice that will
change the face of nations j it will be printing that will
render this great fervice to humanity. Let us therefore,
continue to print ; and let every one, from the higheft to
the loweft, read 3. but, at the fame time, let us print that
only which is true and ufeful j and let us well meditate
before we write,

tors 3
 4<5 The Men of Letters*

tors, who can, without offence, inftruft then**,

and who, from their thrones, have neither fa-

vours to expeft nor difgrace to fear (a) ? We

ought to render that juftice to thofe noble wri-
ters, to acknowledge that there is no race of
men who have better fulfilled their deftination.
Some have overthrown fuperflition, others fup-
ported the rights of the people. Thefe have
dug the fruitful mine of morality, thofe dis-
played virtue under the figure of an indulgent
fenfibility (a). "We have have forgotthe foibles

which;
[a) The Promotheus of Efcbyîus contains a beautiful*
and clear allegory. Is is that of an arbitrary monarch
crufhing a man of genius $ for having brought down fire

from heaven, with which he enlightened mankind, he isi

fixed to the fummit of a rock £ being (lowly fcorched by
the fun's rays, the colour cf his body is changed $ the
nymphs of the woods and fields furround him with lamen-
tations, but are unable to affift him j the Furies load him
with irons that eat into his flefti ; but a remorfe for having
been virtuous can never enter his heart*

(a) How great the recompense to an author who is the

friend of truth and virtue, when, as we read, we drop the
burning tear upon his book, and, at the fame moment,
draw from the bottom of the heart the ftruggling figh 5;

then clofe the book, and, lifting our eyes to heaven, form
ardent virtuous refoluiions ! This, doubtlefs, is the moft:

brilliant reward that any writer ought to wifh. What, to

this
 The Men of Letter*. ft
which they might have as private pcrfons ; we
fee that mafs^ of light only which they have
formed and aggrandiied, that moral. fun, which,

can never be extinguiflhed but with the grand

luminary of the univerfe."

How glad fhould I be to enjoy the prefence pf

thofe great men ! for I have ever had a ftrong

attraction towards writers of real merit ; I love

to fee them, but ftill more to hear their difcourfe, •

" It happens right luckiry^ to-day they

open the academy, in order to receive a nrm of
letters." —In the room,, doubtlefs, of one that
deceafed. — "What fay you? Mud merit wait
till death has deftroyed his fellow, that he may
fupply his place? No; the number of oufa
academicians is not fixed ; every talent; receives,

the crown of its reward ; there are fufEcient to

recompenfe them all (#),

this, are thedifcordant fhouts ofapplaufe, as empty as they,

are tranfuory, as envied as they are uncertain,

(û) An author, who is not much influenced by perfonal,

motives, will not give himfelf great concern to think that,
he is a writer of merit in an ignorant age;if he be more

defirous of the progrefs of human knowledge, than of

gratifying his own vanity, inftead of being aSi&ed, he will-
wjoice that he. cannot launch forth from his ©bfcurUy,

CHAR
 C 4* )

CHAP. III.

The Academy of Science*

WE advanced toward the academy.

ftill preferred that name ; but how
It

different its fituation from that where it was for-

merly held ! It no longer made a part of the
palace of a king. How wonderful are the re-

volutions of ages ! A pope now fits in the place

of the Caefars ! ignorance and fuperftition in-
habit Athens ! the fine arts have flown to Ruffia!
Would it have been believed in my time, that a
mountain marked with ridicule for merely af-
fording nurture to- a few affes by its thiftles,
fhould become the juft image of the ancient
Parnaffus, the feat of genius, the habitation of
renowned writers They would have aboliflied
?

the name of Montmartre (tf), but from a com-

plaifance to received prejudices.

This auguft fpot, cloathed on all fides by

venerable woods, is confecrated to folitude ;

(a) The bill Montmartre is on the north fide of Paris, and..

aJmoJi adjoining to it. They fay, that on itsfummit there w<**,

$nce a temple dedicated to Mars, from which it took its name,

au,
 The Academy of Science* 43
an exprefs law forbids the approach of all dif-

cordant noife. The earth has produced frefh

beds of ftone to form the foundations of this

noble afylum. On this mount, blefled with the

1110ft genial rays of the fun, are nourifhed fais

trees, whofe towering fummits fometimes em-
brace each other, and fometimes at diftancekeep*
to afford the exploring eye a profpeft of the faca

of heaven.

As I mounted with my guide, I obferved,

here and there, elegant hermitages, diftinft
from each other. I afked who inhabited thofe
flowery fpots, half concealed by the woods,
and half expofed to view, whofe afpeft appeared
fo engaging. —" You fhall foon know," was
replied ;
cc
let us now haften the hour ap- ;

proaches." In fa&, I faw a great number of

perfons arrive from every fide, not in coaches,
but on foot. Their converfation feemed to be
highly pleafingand animated. We entered an
edifice fuffieiently large, but decorated with
great fimplicity. I obfcrved no Swifs, armed
with a heavy halberd, at the door of the tran-
quil fan&uary of the Mufes ; there was no-
thing
44' *Tke Academy of Science.

thing to forbid entrance amidft a crowd of wor*

thy men (a).

The hall was remarkably fonorous ; fothat

the moft feeble academic voice might be heard
at the greateft diftance. The order that there
reigned was not lefs remarkable 5 feveral rows
of benches furrounded the hall ; for they knew
that they ear fhould be at its eafe in an acade-
my, as the eye in the fallon of a painter. Icon-
fidered every obje£t at my leifure. The num-
ber of academics feats was not ridiculouily
fixed ; but what feemed moft fingular was, thaç,
on the back of every chair, a fcroll was difplay*
cd, on which were diftindtly wrote the titles

®f that academician who chofe it for his feat r

every one might place himfelf in an armed,

chair without any other previous ceremony
than that of difplaying the fcroll that contained
the title of his works. It is eafy to conceive»

(a) I have ever been highly curious to fee a man of ge-

nius, and have thought that I difcovered in his port, his
anions, the air of his head, hia countenance, and afpec%.
fomething that diftinguiflied him from the common race of
men. The fcience of phyfiognomy ftill remains to bfc

properly invefligated*
that
 —

The Academy of Science. 45

t"hat no one offered to difplay a charte blanche,

as was done in my day, by bifhops, marfhals,

and preceptors (a) ; ftill lefs would they dare

to expofe to the fevere public eye the title of a
work of mean merit, or a fervile imitation ; it

muft be a work that points out fome new dif-

covery in the arts, or, at leaft, that excels all

others on the fame fubjeâ: (b).

My guide pulled me by the ileeye Xt

You
feem aftonifhed ; let me increafe your wonder,
Thofe charming habitations which you obferved
on afcending the mountain, form the retreats

of thofe who are flruck by an unknown power

(a) We have feen on the Boulevards, (the old ramparts

»f Paris, ivhich noto feme for recreation,) an automaton that

articulated founds, and the people flock to admire it. How

many automata, with human faces, do we fee at court,

at the bar, in tte academies, who owe their fpeech to the

breath of invifible agents 5 when they ceafe, the machines

remain dumb.

(£) There are no longer any means left to diftinguifh

ourfelves, they fay. Wretches ! that hunt after fmoke,

the path of virtue ftill lies before you 5 there you will find
bat few competitors 5 but that is not the fort of glory that
you feek. I underftand you ;
you would become the fub-
je& of popular difcourfe, I figh for you, and for the hu-
man race.

Z that
4.6 The Academy of Selena,

that commands them to write. Our academi-

cians are Carthufians(tf) ; it is in folitude that

genius difplays its powers, forfakes the beaten

path, and difcovers unknown regions. When
does enthufiafm fpring forth ? When the au-
thor defcends into himfelf, when he invefli-

gates his own foul, that profound mine, of

whofe value the pofieflbr is not unfrequently

ignorant. What infpirers are retreat and

friendfhip (û) What more
! is necefiary to

thofe who fearch for nature and truth ? Where

do we hear their fublime voice ? In the tumult
of cities, amidft that crowd of low purfuits,
that, unknown to ourfelves, befiege the heart ?

No ; it is amidft the rural fcenes that the foul

rejuvenates -, it is there that it contemplates
the majefty of the univerfe, that majefty elo-
quent and all-gracious ; the thought ftrikes,

the expreffion glows ; the image and its fplen-

(a) Let him who would acquire a ftrength x>f mind, afll-

duoufly exert its powers 5 the greateft fluggard is ever

the greateft flave.

(*) Man has much longer time to live with the mind
than with the fenfes j he would therefore act wifely to de-
pend for his pleafures on the former rather than on the
v
latter,

dor
 The Academy of Science. 47
dor become widely extended, like the horizon
that furrounds us.

u In your day, the men'of letters frequented

the circles to amufe the coquettes, and obtain
an equivocal fmile ; they facrificed all that was
bold and manly to the fuperftitious empire of
fafhion ; they diverted the foul of its real nature,
topleafe the age. Inftead of looking forward
to an auguft feries of ages, they rendered them-
felves flaves to a momentary tafte. In a word,
they purfued ingenious falflioods ; they ftifled

that inward voice which cries, Be fevere ay the

time that.flies; be inexorable aspojîerity.

<c
These academics* morever, here enjoy
that happy mediocrity (a), which, amongft us,
conftitutes fovereign wealth. We do not offer

to interrupt them, either with a defire to difco-

ver the leaft movements of their minds, or from

a vanity of being admitted to their company.
We revere their time, as we do the hallowed

(a) The great man is modeft 5 the man of mediocrity

difplays his indifferent advantages ; fo the majeftic river
glides filently along, while the rivulet runs chattering over

the rugged pebbles.

bread
4§ ^he Academy of Science.

bread of the indigent ; but attentive to their de-

fires, at the leaft fignal they find tnem grati-

fied. "—If that be the cafe, you mud have fuffi*

<:ient employment. Are there not thofe who

aflame the rank to cover their idlenefs or real

weaknefs ? —" No ; this region rs fo ftrongly

illuminated, that the leaft fpot is eafily difco-

vered. Impofture dare not here intrude ; it

can never bear the look of a man of genius,

whofe piercingeye nought can deceive. For thofe
whom prefumption may bring hither (a)> there
areperfons of a benign temper, who effectually

difluade them frorn a project that cannot re*

dound to their honour. In a word, the law

enjoins . . .
." — Our converfation was inter-

rupted by a fudden general filence in the aflem-

bly. My whole foul flew to my ear, when I

beheld one of tbe academicians prepare to read

a manufcript which he held in his hand, and
with a grace by no means infignificant.

O ungrateful memory, how could I re-

proach thee \ Why didft thou defert me i
[a) yhere is no objeft that may not be viewed from a
hundred different ftations 3 but there is only one from
whence it can be juftly beheld j and if that is not chofen,
genius and labour become ufelefs.
Would
 The Academy of Science. 49

Would that I could repeat the perfuafive dif-

courfe pronounced by that academic ! The

force, the method, the flowing periods have
efcaped me ; but the impreffion on my mind
can never be effaced. No ; never was I fo en-
raptured. The vifage of each auditor reflected
thofe fentiments with which I was agitated ; it

was one of the moft delicious enjoyments my

heart ever felt. What depths what images ! !

what truths ! what a noble flame ! how fublime

a tone ! The orator declaimed againft envy (a) y
defcribed the fources of that fatal paflîon, its

horrible effects, the infamy it has caft on the

laurels that have crowned many great men ; all

its vile, unjuft, deteftable qualities were fo

ftrongly painted, that while we deplored the fate
of its blind, unhappy vidiims, we trembled left

our own hearts fhould be infe£led by its poifon.

1 he mirror was fo properly prefented before

(a) How I pity the envious and jealous mind, that

glances over the valuable parts of a work, and knows not
how to enjoy them. By analogy it dwells on thofe parts
only that are imperfect. The man of letters who by an
habitual exercife of reafon ançl tafte, improves the one and

the other, and inceflantly creates to himfelf new joys, is

of all men the moll happy-— if he can dived himfelf of jea-

louiy or of an over feniibility.

Vol II. D each

5 The academy çf Science.

each particular character, their meannefs ex*

pofed in fuch various and ridiculous lights,
the human heart difplayed in a manner fo new,
fo refined, fo ftriking, was impoffible
that it

not to know them ; and when knowing, not

to form the defign of abjuring that miferable
weaknefs. The fear of bearing fome refem-
blanceto that frightful monfter, envy, produced
a happy eifeét. I faw, O inftru£live fight! O
moment unheard of in the annals of literature!
I faw the members of that afiembly regard each

other with a tender and fympathizing look -, I faw

them mutually open their arms, embrace, and
cry with joy; their bofoms refting and panting
againft each other; I faw (will it be believed ?)

the authors difperfed abouttheroom imitate the

affe&ionate tranfports of the academicians, and
convinced of the talents of their brethren, fwear
an unalterable, eternal friendfhip ; I faw the
tears of afFe&ion and benevolence flow from
every eye. They were a company of brothers,
who fubilituted that honourable applaufe in the

room of our ftupid clapping of hands (a).

After
(a) When, at the theatre or the academy, an affe&ing
or fublime paflage (hikes the afiembly, inftead of that figh
from
 The Academy of Scienct. 5 1

Aï" ter the full enjoyment of thofe delicious

moments; after each one had exprefied the va-
rious fenfations that he had felt, and thofe
ftrokes by which he was moft ftrongly affected;
and after frequently repeating the vows of end-
lefs friendfhip, another member of this auguft
fociety arofe with a fmiling air ; an applauding
murmur ran through the hall, for he was
adeemed a Socratic railer .(*). He raifed his

voice, and faid,

« Gentlemen,
* Many reafons have induced me to offer
* you to-day a fhort, but, I think, curious ex-
* tract of what our academy was in its infancy,
« that is, about the eighteenth century. The
* cardinal who was our founder (£), and whom
from the bottom of the heart, and the filent emotions, I
hear thofe clappings redoubled till they make the roof, I
fay to myfelf, thefe people have no feeling 5 they are men
of wood that ftrike two boards together,

(a) As a malignant raillery is the fruit of an iniquitious

difpoution, fo an ingenious pleafantry is the fruit of wif-
dom. A fprightly temper and graceful manner were the
mofl triumphant arms of Socrates.

(£) Cardinal Richelieu»

D 2 our
52 The Academy of Science.

* our predeceflbrs have fo extravagantly extoll-

* ed, and to whom they attributed, in our eftab-
i
lifhment, the mod profound defigns, would
' never have formed this inflitution, (let, us
* confefs it) if he had not himfelf made wretch -
* ed verfes which he idolized, and which he
c
was defirous that we fhould celebrate. That
* cardinal, I fay, at the time he invited the au-
4
thors to form one body, difcovered his de-
4
fpotic temper when he made them fubjett to
* rules ever unknown to genius. Our founder
4 imperfe£t an idea of what fuch a
had fo fo-
* ciety ought to be, that he limited the num-
4
ber of members to forty ; fo that Corneille
* and Montefquieu might have waited at the
4
door to the end of their days. This cardinal
4
imagined, moreover, that genius would na-
4
turally remain in obfeurity, if titles and dig-
€
nities did not roufe it from its inanity. When
* he formed this ftrange judgment, finely, he
4
could think of fuch rhimers only as Colletet
c
and his colleagues, whom he fupported out
' of mere vanity.

4
From thence it became an eftablifhed cuf-
4
torn, that they who had money in the room
* of
 The Academy of Science. 53

of merit, and titles inftead of genius, feated

themfelves by thofe whofe names had been

celebrated by fame throughout all Europe.
He was himfelf the firit example, and he was
but too well imitated. When thofe great

men who drew the attention of their own age,

and whofe regards were fixed on that of pof-

terity, had covered with glory the place

where they held their aflemblies, the gilt and-

titled idiots befiéged the door ; nay, almoft

prefumed to declare, that they reflected ho-
nour on the fociety by their paltry ribbonds,
and, in fa£t, believed, or pretended to be-
lieve, that, by feating themfelves by men of
genius, they actually refembled them.

• Then were feen marfhals, as well victo-

rious as beaten, mitred heads that had never

made a mandate, men of the long robe, pre-
ceptors, and financiers, who pretended to the
title of men of genius ; and though they were
nothing more than the decorations of the
theatre, really believed themfelves to be ca-
pital performers. Some eight or ten among
:
the forty (hone by their own luftre the reft ;

had only a borrowed light ; yet it was necef-

D 3
« fary
 54 W& Academy of Science.

4
fary to wait for the death of an academician
* in order to fill his place, and which, never-
4
thelefs, for the mod part, flill remained
* empty.

* What could be more ludicrous than to

4
fee that academy, whofe renown was fpread
* over all the capital, hold its aflemblies in a
* fmail, clofe, mean room? There, in feveral
* armed chairs, that were formerly red, were
4
feen, from time to time, a number of indolent
* wretches, carelefly feated, weighing of fylla-
* bles, or carefully culling the words out of
* fome piece of profe or poetry, in order, at laft,

* to applaud the moft unmeaning among them.

4
But, on the other hand, pray remark it, gen-
* tlemen, they never erred in calculating the
* number of counters that each gained by the
* abfence of his brethren. Can you believe
* that they gave the conqueror a gold medal in
4
the room of a branch of oak, and that en it

* there was engraved this ridiculous inferip-

4
tien: A Immortalité? Alas! that immortality
4
palled the next day into the goldfmith's cru-
4
cible ; and that was the moft real advantage the
4
vi&orious champion obtained.
* Could
 The Academy- of Science. -
55
1
Could you imagine, that thofe little vi£to-.

1
ries fometimes turned the conquerors brains,
1
fo great was their ridiculous vanity {a) ? and
c
that the judges exercifed fcarce any other
* function than that of diftributing thofe ufelefs
c
prizes, about which no one even ever made
* inquiry ?

4
The place of their affembly was open to
* none but authors ; and they were admitted by
€
tickets only. In the morning was performed
e
a mufical mafs \ then a trembling prieft pro-
* no'unced the panegyric of Lewis IX. (I

* know not very well why) extolling him for

(a) Except the univerfity prizes, which give rife to a

foohfh pride in childifh heads, I know of nothing more
pernicious than the medals of our literary academies. The
conqueror really thinks himftlf a perfon of confequence,
and îs ruined for the remainder of his days ; he difdains
every one who has not been crowned with fo rare and il-

luftrious a laurel. See in the Mercure de France, for the

month of September, 1769, page 184, an inflance of the
mod ridiculous egotifm. Avery diminutive author informs
the public, that when he was at college, he performed his
theme better than his colleagues ; he glories in it, and
imagines that he maintains the fame rank in the republic
of letters.—Rifum tcneatis, amicif

D 4 « more
56 The Academy of Science.

4
more than an hour, though he was certainly
4
a bad fovereign (a). Then the orator declaita-
4
ed on the croifades, which highly inflamed
4
the archbifhop's bile, who interdicted the
* prieftly orator, for his temerity in difplaying
c
good fenfe. In the evening was another eu-
4
logy ; but as that was on a profane fubjedl
4
the archbifhop happily did not concern him-
' felf with the doftrine.it contained.

4
It is proper to remark, that the place where
4
they difplayed their wit was guarded by fufi-
4
leers and gigantic Swifs, who underftood no
4
French. Nothing was more comic than the
4
contraft between the meagre figure of the man
4
of letters, and the enormous blufteringftature
4
of the Swifs. This was called a public ajpmbly.
4
The public, it is true, were there ; but it

4
was at the door ; a poor acknowledgement
4
for their complaifance. In the mean time,
4
the fole liberty that remained to the nation
4
was to pronounce abfolutely onprofe or verfe,

(a) The firft penal edict againft particular fentiments or

opinions was denounced by Lewis IX, vulgarly called St.
Lewis.

to
 The Academy of Science. 57
c
to condemn one author, applaud another*
* and iometimes laugh at them all.

< The academic rage, however, poflefled

* every brain ; every one would be a royal
* cenfor (a), and then an academician. They
i
calculated the lives of all the members of the
1
academy, remarked the degree of vigour that
* their ftomachs difcovered at table ; death
4
feemed to the candidates to be flow in his ap-
i
proach ; the cry was, They are immortal !

4
When a new member was chofen, fome one
i
muttered foftly, Ah when mall I make thy!

4
eulogy at the bottom of the long table, (land-
* ing with my hat on, and declare thee to be a
1
great man, as well as Lewis XIV. and the
4
chancellor Seguier, while you fleep profound-
c
ly under your tomb-ftone decorated with a
4
curious epitaph.

* The men of money at laft fo far prevailed

4
in a golden age, that they completely banifli-

(a) Royal cenfor ! I never hear that word without

laughter. We Frenchmen know not how ridiculous wa
are, nor what right we give pofterity to regard us with
pity.

D 5 ed
58 The Academy of Science.

4
ed the men of letters j fo that in the follow-
4
ing generation, rneffieurs the farmers- gene-
4
ral, were in poflefTion of the forty armed
4
chairs, were they fnored as much at their eafe

1 as their predeceffbrs ; and were flillmore dex-

4
trous in dividing the counters. From thence
4
it was that the old proverb arofe, There is no
4
entering the academy without an equipage.

* The men of letters, unable to regain their

* ufurpe*! dominion, and drove to defpair, con-
4
fpired in form. They had recourfe to their
4
ufual weapons, epigrams, fongs, and vaude-
4
villes (a) ; they exhaufted all the arrows from
4
the quiver of fatire ; but, alas ! all their at-
4
tacks were fruitlefs ; the hearts of their ad-
4
verfaries were become fo callous as to be
4
no longer penetrable, even by the piercing
4
ftrokes of ridicule ; all the bon mots of mef-
4
fieurs tfie authors would have been thrown
4
away but for the aid of a violent indigeftion,
4
that furprifed the academicians on a certain
4
day, when afTembled at a fplendid feaft.

\a) Poor arms Î which even are now prohibited, and

vhich the infolent pride of the great at once feeks after
«nd dreads,
4
Thofe
 27;* Academy of Science. 59
c Thofe three divinities, Apollo, Pluto, and
4
the god of the digeftive faculty, quarrelled
4
with each other ; Indigeftion attacking them
4
under the double title of financiers and aca-
4
demies, deftroyed them almoft all ; the men
4
of letters again entered their ancient domi-
4
nion, and the academy was faved . . .
."

There was an univerfal burft of laughter in

the aflembly. Some of them afked me, in a

low voice, if the account was juft. Yes, I re-

plied, for the moft part ; but when we look

down on paft times from the fummit of feven
hundred years, it is doubt! efs eafy to give a ri-
diculous turn to what then exifted. For the
reft, the academy agreed, even in my time,
that each member who compofed it was of
more worth than the inftitution itfelf. Nothing
can be added to that confeffion. The misfor-
tune is, that when men meet in afTemblies,
their heads contrail, as Montefquieu faid, who
ought to know.

I passed into an apartment that contained

the portraits of the academicians, as well an-
'

D 6 cient
6o The Academy of Science.

cient as modern ; I took particular notice of

thofe that fucceeded the academics now liv-
ing ; but, to avoid offence, I (hall not name
them.

Helas ! la véritéft fouvent ejî cruelle^

On Vaime^ et lei humains font malheureux par

elle. Volt.

Alas ! the truth we love, though oft we

find

Her cruel, and a foe to human kind.

I cannot, however, refrain from relating

a fa£l that will certainly give great pleafure to
every generous mind, that loves juftice and
detefts tyranny ; which is, that the portrait of

the abbé St. Pierre was reinftated in its rank

with all the honours due to fuch exemplary vir-
tue. They had effaced the turpitude of which
the academy had rendered itfelf culpable, while

it bowed the neck to a yoke of a fervitude it

ought never to have known. They had placed

this eftimable and virtuous writer between
Fenelon and Montefquieu. I gave the praifes
due to this noble equity. I faw no portrait of
Riche*
 The Kings Cabinet. 61

Richelieu, nor of Chriftina, nor of — , nor

f
nor , which, though but paintings,
had been for ever difcardeck

As I defcended the mountain, I caft my eyes

many times on thofe lovely groves where dwelt
the men of brilliant genius, who, in filence,

and in the contemplation of nature, laboured

to form the hearts of their countrymen to vir-

tue, to the love of the true and beautiful; when

foftly I faid : Would that I could render myfelf
worthy of this academy!

CHAP. IV.

The Kings Cabinet*

NOT far from this enchanting fpot,

held a vaft temple that ftruck me
I be-
with
awe and admiration. On its frontifpiece was
wrote, An abridgment of the univerfe. u You
fee," faid my guide, " the king's cabinet,
though the edifice belongs not to him, but to
the
I
62 The King's Cabinet.

the ftate. Wc give it that title merely as a

mark of the refpect we bear his perfon. Our
fovereign, moreover, after themanner of the
ancient kings, exercifes medicine, furgery, and
the arts. The happy time is returned when
men in power, who are provided with the ne-
cefiary means for performing experiments, are
charmed with the glory of making difcoveries
of importance to mankind, and are anxious to
carry the fciences to that degree of perfection
which attends their influence and their zeal.
The mod confiderable perfons in the nation
employ their opulence in difcovering the fecrets

of nature; and gold, formerly the fourceof'

vice and the wages of floih, rewards thofe la*
bours that are fubfervient to humanity.

On entering, I was (truck with a pleafing

furprize. This temple was the animated palace

of nature ; all her productions were here col-
lected with a profufion that was completely
regular. The temple confided of four wings
of an immenfe extent, in the center of which
was the moil capacious dome my eyes ever be-
held.
Ik
 The Kings Cabinet 6J

In different parts were placed marble ftatues,

with thefe infcriptions : To the inventor of the

faw, To the inventor of the plane, the fcrew,

the pulley, the capftane, the crane, &c. &c.
All the different forts of animals, vegetables»
and minerals were placed under the four
wings, and were vifible by one glance of the
eye. What an immenfe and aftonifhing aflem-

blage !

Under the firft wing, were feen all from

the cedar to the hyffop.
Under the fécond, from the eagle to the

fly.

Under the third, from the elephant to the

ant.

Under the fourth, from the whale to the

gudgeon.

In the middle of the dome were the Iports

of nature. Monfters of every kind. Produc-
tions enormous, unknown, fingular in their
gender. For Nature, the moment (he aban-
dons her ordinary laws, difcovers an intelli-

gence dill more profound than when flie ad-

heres ftriclly to them. On the fides were feen

complete
64 "The King's Cabinet.

complete portions of matter, taken from the

mines which prefented the fecret laboratories,
where nature prepares thofe metals that man
has rendered fometimes ufeful, fometimes dan-
gerous. Long beds of matter (kilfully taken
up, and artfully placed, mowed the interior
face of the earth, and the order obferved in
the different ftrata of ftone, clays, and loam,
there depofited (<?).

How
(a) What follows was wrote me by a friend. " I

" have now a greater tafte than ever for the quarries.
*' I think it will make me dwell among the minerals
" and petrifactions, and, perhaps, prepare me a tomb
" in the bowels of the earth. I have dtfeended near
c< nine hundred feet into her bofom, hard by ****,
*' much concerned that I could go no far her, I would
*' have printed my footfteps on her kernel, and have
4i there enquired concerning the different nations thac
" had fojourned on her furface would have afked, if;

ft among the infinite number of her children, any one

«« had ever acknowledged, her benefactions ? If at

*« the fpot where I meditate, far from the light of
" day, (he had ever produced nourishing fruits ? And if
** a people or a throne had been there ; and how many
" beds, formed of the ruins of mankind, (he concealed
" from the depth of this abyfs to the laft point of her

f« diameter ? I would have entreated her to let me read

" all the cataftrophes that (he had fufferedj and I fhould
" havfc
 The King's Cabinet. 65

How great was my aftonifhment, when,

inftead of a parcel of dry bones, I faw the

complete

" have bathed them with my tears, when I had learnt

11 from which (he had not been able to
all the difafters
" defend her numerous family ; difafters engraved on
•• conteftible medals, but whofe remembrance is utterly
" effaced 5 difafters that will again return when me
11
fhall bury in her fides the prefent generation, who (hall
u in their turn be trod under foot by generations with-
M out number, who perhaps will have no other refenv
11
blance to them, than the participation of the fame
11
misfortunes. Then, in the midft of my grief, as juft
" as humane, I mould have formed cruel and charitable
" vows 5 I mould have wifhed that (he would have fwal-
" lowed up every animal exiftence ; that fhe would have
V fnatched every being endowed with fenfibility, from the
<c
light of the fun j all of whofe favours are inefficient
" to repair the oppreflion of tyrants, who divide and
11
confume her amongft them.

" This globe, which now bears fo many wretches*

" would then roll in a univerfal and happy ftlence ; it

•' would prefent to the fun* s rays no unfortunate being

i€ compelled to curfe it. No cry of lamentation would
" arife from this planet 5 it would then traverfe the hea-
" vens with a tranquil majefty. Her children, fleeping
" in one common tomb, would fuffer her to obey the
" laws of the creation, while they were no longer the
" victims of deftruclive laws, that fall on the head of
*' man as on the meaneft grain of fand 5 and death fur-
" rounding
66 The King's Cabinet.

complete whale, the monftrous hippopotamus,

the terrible crocodile, &c. They had followed
the arrangement, the degradations and varie-
ties that nature has obferved in her produ£lions.

" rounding this double hemifphere with his peaceful

44
fhadow, would perhaps prefent an appearance more
" /Viking than the bluftering reign of this vain-glorious
44
life, that draws after it a long feries of crimes, an in?
** undation of misfortunes, and a terror even of its very
•' difiblution."

I replied to this friend, that I did not join with him

in the laft wifh 5 that phyfical evils were of all others

the moft fupportabiej that they were tranfieht, and be-

fide, inevitable i
and we had nothing to do but fubmit ;

but that it was in a man's own power to defend himfelf

from thofe unhappy partions, that torment and difgrace

Kim, I anfwered him in conformity to the principles
that are fufficiently explained in the courfe of this work.
I thought it but juft, however, to preferve this extract,

a$ it abounds with a ftrong fenfibîHty *.

* That there is a confider able degree of fenfibility> and fame

ingenuity in this extra ft, cannot be denied j but, at the fame
time, it has certainly the air of a philofopbic rant. The
writer feems to have not believed, or at leaft not fufficiently re-

garded, the doclrine of a future ftate. Would it have been un-

worthy the vuifdom and goodnefs of God, to have created this

earth for the exigence of one man only, if after a port dura •
tien here, he were to inherit a glorious immortality ?

The
 The Kings Cabinet. 67

The eye thus traced without labour the chain

of beings, from the greateft to the leafl. We
there law the lion, the tyger, the panther,
in the fierce attitudes by which they are cha-
ra&erifed ; the voracious animals were repre-
fented as darting on their prey \ even the
energy of their motion feemed in a manner
to be preferved, as well as the creative breath
by which they were animated. The more
gentle, or more fubtle, had loft nothing
of their phyfiognomy. Labour, cunning,
and patience, art had clofely imitated. The
natural hiftory of each animal was engraved
under it, and the attendants explained verbal-
ly, what would have been two long to be
read.

That fcale of beings, fo contefted in our

day, and which many philofophers had judi-
cioufly fuppofed, was here confirmed by the
cleareft evidence. Wc faw diftinctly that the
feveral fpecies touch ; that they run, fo to
fpeak, into each other \ that by the delicate
and fenfible connections between the mere
*

Hone and the plant, the plant and the animal,

the animal and man, there remained no inte-

refticet.
68 The Ki^s Cabinet.

reftices. That their growth, duration, and

definition, were determined by the fame
caufes. It was moreover remarked, that na-
ture in all her operations, tended with ener-

gy to the formation of man; and that labour-

ing patiently, and even at a difbmce, that

important work, (he endeavoured, by various
effays, to arrive at the gradual term of his
perfection, which feemed to be the utmoft ef-
fort of her power.

This cabinet was by no means a chaos, an

undigefted mafs, where the objecls, either

widely fcattered, or heaped together, afforded

no determinate idea. The gradations were
fkiifully difpofed and preferved. But what
moft of all favoured the arrangement, was,
that they had difcovered a preparation, which
preferved the feveral fubje&s ,
from thofe in-
fers that fpring from corruption.

Ifound myfelf opprefled by the weight of

fo many miracles. My eye embraced all the
luxury of nature. How at that moment did I
reverence its Author! What homage did I
render to his power, his wifdom, and what is

even
 The King s Cabinet. 69

even ftill more precious, his goodnefs ! How

important a being does man appear, when
ranging amongft thefe wonders, collected by
his hands and which feem created for him,
-,

as he alone has the power of difcerning their

various properties. That line fo juftly propor-

tioned, thofe connections, thofe feeming va-

cuities, but conftantly filled; that gradual

order, that plan which admits of no interme-
diate ; after furv eying the heavens, what fight
is more magnificent on the earth, which it-

felfj at the fame time, is but an atom (a) ?

By

(a) It muft be cc tTefled, that the hiftcry of nature is no-

thing more than that of our own weaknefs. The little that
we know difcovers the extent of our ignorance. Pbyfics
are to us, what an occult fcience was to the ancients. We can-
not conteft fome parts of it, but we can deny the whole.
What axiom is there peculiar to it ? The project of a natu-
ral hiflory is highly commendable, but it is fomewhat
faftuous. A man fpends his whole life in difcovering the

leaft props: ty of a mineral, and dies before he has ex-

haufted the fubjeft. The immenfity of objects, animals,

trees, and plants, is fufficient to awe the capacity of a

Tingle man. But ought it to difcourage him ? No ; it is

here that audacity is virtue, cbAinacy wifdom, and pre-

emption utility. We mould watch nature fo clofely,

that (he may at laft, by furprife, difcover her fecret j to

find it out feems not impoffible to the human mind, pro-
vided
 70 Thé Ring*s Cabinet.

By what wonderful perfeverance, I faid, hare

you been able to perform fo great a work ?

11
It is the work of many kings/' they re*

plied ;
u All jealous of honouring the title

of an intelligent being; a fublime and ge-

nerous paflion, fupported by a confiant ardor,
has infpired them with the curiofity of pluck-
ing off the veil from the bofom of nature. In-
ftead of counting battles gained, towns taken by
.affault, unjuftice, and bloody conquefts ; they
fay of our kings,
u He made fuch a difcovery
in the ocean of beings ; he accomplished fuch
a project for the good of mankind. They no
longer fpend a hundred million of livres

for the deftru£lion of their brethren in

one campaign ; but employ it in augmenting
their real riches ; in the. encouragement of
genius and induftry, and by encreafing jheir
force, complete the general happinefs."

There have been fecrets difcovered in all

ages, by men in appearance the mod ftupid.

vkled the chain of observations be not interrupted, and

that each philofopher be more anxions for the perfection

of fcience than for his own glory 5 a rare, but necefiary

facrifice, and one that points out the real friend to man.

7 Many
 The King's Cabinet. Ji

Many of them have like lightning (hone for

a moment on'y. We are fenfibie however
that nothing is loft we wifh to fave. All is
laid up in the bofom of nature we need ;

but fearch ; it is vaft, it prefents a thoufand

refources. Nothing is annihilated in the order

of beings. By perpetually agitating the mafs of

idea?, the mod unexpe&ed rencounters arife (a).

Fully

(«) When we regard the point from which men have

fet out in their philofophical inquiries, and that to which
they are now arrived, it muft be confefled, that with
all our machines, we do not fufficiently extend the force
of the human mind. Man, left 10 himfelf, feems more
ftrong, than with all thofe foreign helps. The more
we acquire, the more indolent we become* The infi-
nite number of experiements has ferved fcarce any other
purpofe than to confecrate error. Content with feeing,
we have thought that we touched the extremity, and
have difdained to feek further. Our philofophers glide

over a thoufand important objecls, of which they ought

to give the folution. Experimental philofophy is become
an exhibition, a fort of public legerdemain. If the ex-

periment that has been promifed is tardy or difobedienf,

the operator frequently corrects it with a touch of his
finger. What do we now fee ? Unconnected, ufelefs

difcoveries ; dogmatical who facrifice

philofophers, all

to their fyftems retailers of words, who confound

$ the
vulgar, and excite pity on the man who can take the
polifhed
y2 The King's Cabinet.

Fully convinced of the pofTibility of the moil

aftonifhing difcoveries, we have not lingered
in the purfuit.

We leave nothing to chance ; that word,

totally void of meaning, is banifhed from our
language. Chance is a fynonomous term for

ignorance. Sagacity, labour, and patience,

are the inftruments by which nature is com-
pelled to difcover her mofl hidden treafures.

Men have learnt to derive every poffible ad-

vantage from the gifts they have received. By
perceiving the degree to which they could af-
cend, they have been flimulated by glory to
perfue_ the abound! efs carreer that is fet be-
fore them. The life of a fingle man, it is faid is

too fhort ; it is true ; and what have we done ?

polifhed covering from off their jargon. The memoirs

of the academy of fciences prefent a multitude of facls,
of furprifing obfervations; but ail thofe obfervations re-

ferable a relation of fome unknown people, where one man

only has been, and where no one can go again. We
muft believe the traveller and the philofopher, even
though they mould have deceived themfelves 5 nor can
we draw any utility from their relations, on account of
the diftance of the country, and the difficulty of apply-
ing their obfervations to any real objects.

We
 The King's Cabinet. 73

we have united the force of each individual ;

they have acquired an immenfe empire ; the one

finifhed what the other began. The chain
was never interrupted, but each link clofely
connedted with that which went before ; thus
it has been extended through feveral centu-
turies, and this chain of ideas and of fuccef-
five labour, may one day furround and* em-
brace the univerfe. It is not merely a per-
fonal glory, but the intereft of the human race,

fcarce thought of in your day, that fupports

the moft difficult enterprifes.

" We no longer amufe ourfelves with vain

fy Items (a). Thanks to heaven (and to your
folly) they are all exhaufted. The torch of
experience alone direfts our fteps. Our end
is to know the fecret caufes of each appear-
ance, and to extend the dominion of man, by
providing him with the means of executing

(a) Let the fabricators offyftems, phyfical and metaphy-

fical, explain to me the following incident. Father Ma-
billon was, in his younger days, an idiot. When he
was fix and twenty, he fell with his head againft a ftone
ftair-cafe. He was trepancd, and became a new man $

endowed with a lively imagination, an amazing memory,

and a zeal for ftudy rarely equalled.

Vol. II. E all

 .

74 The Kings Cabinet*

all thofe labours that can aggrandife his ex-

iftence.

« We have certain hermits, (of one order

who live in the forefts but it is to her-

only) ;

balife, which they do by choice, and from a

natural propenfity. On certain ftated days

they repair hither* to communicate their va-

luable difcoveries.

<s
We
have efefted towers on the fiimmits
of feveral mountains, where they make ob-
fervations that are continually encreafing,

and that confirm each other. We have form-

ed artificial torrents and catara£ts, by which
is acquired a force fufficient to produce the
greateft efFeas by motion (*). We have efta-
bliflied aromatic baths, to rejuvenate the
bo-

(a) The moft brilliant and expenfive undertakings are

not the moft to be admired, if they are eretfed merely
oflentation. The machine that raifes the water
for
which fupplies the gardens of Marley, is not, in the eyes

of a wife man, of fo much confequence as a fingle wheel,

vil-
turned by a rivulet, that grinds the corn for feveral
of the manufacturer. Genius
lages, or aids the labour

may be powerful, but it is only great when ufeful to

mankind,
dies
 The Kings Cabinet. 75

dies of thofe who are grown rigid by age ;

for God has not created fo many falutary

plants, and given the knowledge of their vir-

tues to man, but to confign to his vigilance

the care of preferving his health, and extend-
ing the fragile and precious thread of his

days.

cc
Our public walks, which among you feem-
ed calculated for pleafure only, pay us a ufe-
ful tribute. They are formed of fruit-trees*

that delight the view, and embalm the air

with their odours. They have taken place

of the lime, the barren cheftnut, and the
Hunted elm. We engraft, and render prolific,
wild trees, that our labours may correfpond
with the blifsful liberality of nature, who only
waits for that matter's hand, to whom the
Creator, fo to fay, has fubmitted them.

"We have menageries of large extent, for

all forts of animals ; and have found in the
depths of the forefts, feveral fpecies that were
altogether unknown to you. We mix thefe
tribes to fee the efFe£ls they will produce*
The difcovcries we have here made are afto-
E 2 fcifhing,
 76 The King's Cabinet.

nifhing, and highly ufeful, for the fpecres

has fometimes encreafed to twice the common

fize. To conclude, we have remarked, that
our pains beftowed on nature, have rarely-

been ineffeûual.

" We have alfo recovered many fecrets that

were loft to you, merely for want of perfeve-

rance in the fearch ; for you were more folli-

citous to heap up a great number of words in

the form of a book, than to recover, by dint

of application, extraordinary inventions. We
now poffefs, as did the ancients, malleable
glafs ; the tranfparent flone ; the Tyrean pur-

ple, with which the imperial robes were dyed}

the mirror of Archimîdes [ci) \ the /Egyptian

art ofembalming; the machine by which they
ere£led their obelifks the cloth in which ;

their bodies were confumed on the funeral

pile; the art of liquifying ftones ; the inex-

tinguhliable lamps, and even the Appian

fauce.

«Walk into thefe gardens, where botany

has received all the perfe&ion of which it was

a) the moderns bave not precifely this mirror f they have

( If
very like it %
Jfomethin?
fufcepu-
 The King's Cabinet. 77

iufceptible {a). Your blind philofophers com-

plained that the earth was replete with poifons,
we have difcovered, that they are the molt ef-
ficacious remedies that can be employed. Pro-
vidence has here been juftified, as it would
be in every inftance, but for the weaknefs of
our knowledge. We now no longer hear com-
plaints upon the earth ; no mournful voice
cries out„ " All is evil !" We fay, that in the

fight of God, « All is good IV Even the effe&s

of thefe poifons we not only forfee, but know
how to prevent.

€C
We have extra£ted from plants certain pe-
netrating and benign juices, which, by infi-

nuating themfelves into the pores of the fkin,

mix with our fluids, eftablifh the temperament,
and render the body more healthful, more fu-
ple and robufh We have difcovered the fe-

{a) Thou, who wandereft over the fields, while think-

ing on the veflfel- that plows the waves, and bears thy
treafure; flop, (hort-fighted wretch ! Thou treadeft upon
an obfeure, but falutary herb, that would communicate
health and joy to thy heart 5 a treafure far more valuable
than all thy rtiip contains, After having purfued a thou-
fand chimeras, end thy labours like by
J. J. Roufieau,
herbalifing*

E 3 rret
78 The Kings Cabinet.

(fret of difîblving the flone without burning

the entrails. We now cure the phthifis, and
every other diforder formerly deemed incura-
ble (#). But the moil excellent of all our en-
terprifes was, the exterminating that dreadful
hydra, that cruel and fhameful plague, which
attacked the fource of life and pleafure. The .

human race was on the brink of deflrudtion

when we difcovered that happy fpecific, which
has preferved its being and its pleafure, ftill

more precious {a). In the courfe of our walk,

the Buffon of that age joined demonftration
to words, by pointing out to me the objeû?
of nature, and adding his own reflexions."

(a) It is fhameful for a man to declare that he has a

fecret ufeful to the human race, and referve it for the ad-

vantage of himfelf and his family. Alas ! What recom-

penfe would he have ? Wretch ! Thou mayft pafs through
the midft of thy brethren, and fay to thyfelf, " Thefe
beings are indebted to me for a part of their health and
felicity !" But thou art not poffeffed of that noble pride,

not affected by that benevolent idea ! Go, get gold, thou

tnifcreant ! and debar thy foul of that enjoyment. Thou
executeft juftice, thou punifheft thyfelf.

(£) I am concerned when I hear any one jeft on this

terrible fcourge. We mould never mention it without
tears, and not, in this inftance, imitate the buffoon Vol-
taire.

But
 .

The Kings Cabinet. 79

But what mod of all furprifed me, was an
optical cabinet, where they had aflembled all

the properties of light. It was a perpetual

fcene of magic. They caufed to pafs before

my eyes landicapes, profpe£ts, palaces, rain-

bows, meteors, luminous cyphers, imaginary
feas ; and which were more ftriking than even

the realities \ it was the region of enchantment.

The profpett of creation rifing out of inanity
could not have given me a fenfation more ex?
quifite and aftonifhing.

They prefented me with a microfcope, by

the aid of which, I perceived . new beings that
had efcaped the piercing fight of our obfer-
vers. So fimple and wonderful was the art..,

was never fatigued. Every ad-

that the eye
vance they made, fatisfied the mod ardent
curiofity ; the ftronger avidity it appeared
to have, the more numerous were the objects
that prefented themfelves. O ! How great
does man here appear? I more than once ex
claimed, and how pitiful, comparatively, were
they, whom, in my time, they called great (a).
What
(a) A voluminous work might be compiled of the fe-

vera! guettions, natural, moral, and metaphyseal, that

E 4 prefent :
So The Kings Cabinet.

What related to acouftics was not left mi-

raculous. They had acquired the art of imi-.
taring all the articulations of the human
voice, of the cries of animals, and the vari-
ous notes of birds. By touching certain fprings
we feemed to be inftantly tranfported to fome
wild foreit -, where we heard the roarings of
the lyon, the tyger, and the bear, who feem-
ed to be in conflict with each other, The
noife rent the ear. You would have faid that

the echo, ftill more terrible, repeated at a

diftance thole horrid and barbarous cries.

But foon the fongs of nightingales fucceded

to thofe difcordant founds. By their harmo-
nious organs each particle of air became me-
lodious ; the ear difcerned even the tremblings
of their amourous wings, and thofe tender

prefent themfelves in crowds to the mind, and about which

the man of genius knows no more than the fool 5 and we
might reply in one word to all thefe metaphyfical, moral,

and natural queftions ; but it mould be that of the pro-

found logogriph or enigma, which furrounds us. I do

not defpair but that they will one day difcover it. I ex-
pect every thing from the human mind, when it mall
know its own faculty, and unite them and when it
5 (hall

regard its intelligence as a power that ought to penetrate

all that is, and fubjecl all that it contemplates.

and
 1 .

The Kings Cabinet. 8

rmd enchanting founds which the voice of

man can never perfeâly imitate. To the in-
toxication of pleafure was joined the fweet
furprife, and the voluptuous fenfation that arofe
from this happy union, feized every heart.

This people, who had conftantly a moral

aim even in the prodigies of art, had happily
deduced an advantage from this furprifing in-
vention. When a young prince talked of com-
bats, or discovered a warlike difpofition (#),

they conduced him to a room, which they

properly named 3 the Hell. The artift imme-
diately put the fprings in motion, and faluted
his ear with all the horrors of a battle, the
cries of rage and of grief; the lamentations
ef the dying; the founds of terror.; the bel-

(<*) Ye mighty potentates, who divide the globe among ;

you, and are furnifhed with cannons, mortars, and nume-

rous weapons, which are displayed by the dazling ranks
of thofe armies you fend to conquer a province or exter-
minate a kingdom, 1 know not bow it is, but amidft all
your waving enfigns, you appear to me mean and wretched.
The Romans, in iheir public games, diverted ihemfelves
with the pigmies, whom they made fo combat each other,
but little thought that they were in the eye of a wi/e man,
what the dwarfs appeared to them.

E 5 lowing
 —
82 The King's Cabinet.

lowing of that hideous thunder which is the

fignal of definition and bears the execrable
found of death. If nature did not then prevail
on his mind, if he did not fend forth a cry of
horror, if his countenance remained unmoved
and placid, he was confined to that room for
the remainder of his days. Every morning,
however, they repeated a piece of this mufic,
that he might be fatisfied without the deflruc-
tion of the human race.

The director of this cabinet, to my great

furprife, exhibited all his infernal opera, with-

out acquainting me of his intention. O hea-

vens ! mercy ! mercy ! I cried with all my
Ylrength, doping my ears. O fpare me, fpare

me ! He flopped the exhibition. —" How !"

he faid, " does not this pleafe you ?" — None

but a demon, I replied, can be pleafed with
cc
fuch an horrid uproar. This, however, was
in your time a very common diverfion, which
the kings and princes of Europe all enjoyed, as
they did the chace (<?), which, as has been very
juftly

(a) Among the many calamities that now opprefs Eu-

rope, that which 1 find the moft advantageous is the de-
pop u-
 The King's Cabinet. 83

juftly remarked, is the true piûure of war (b).

Your poets moreover extolled them for having.

fright-

population. Since men muft be miferable, there are the

fewer to fuffer. If this reflection be cruel, let it fall on
them from whom it proceeds.

{b) How ftrange and deplorable is the conftitution of

our political world Î Eight or ten crowned heads hold the
human race in chains j they correfpond, they afford each
other mutual aid, they keep them in their royal hands to
gripe them at their pleafure, even till they produce con-
vulfive motions. This confpiracy is not covered with a
veil, but is open, public, and conducted by ambafiadors.
Our complaints no longer reach their lofty ears. Look
around through Europe 5 it is no other than a vaft arfenaf,
where thoufands of barrels of powder want only a fingle

fpark of fire to fet them in combuftion. Frequently icis the

hand of a hare-brained minitfer that puts them in explo-

sion ; he fets fire at once to the north and the fouth, to

the two extremities of the earth. What an immenfe quan-
tity of cannons, mortars, mufkets, balls, bullets, fwords,
balloons, &c. of murdering flaves, obedient to the whip
of difcipline, attend the orders of a cabinet, to difplay its
Woody parade! Geometry itfelf has profaned its divine
attributes by a/fifting the fury fometimes of ambitious, and
fometimes capricious fovereigns. With what precision *

do ^hey deftroy an army, bombard a camp, befiege or burn

a city i I have feen academicians in cool blood confult on
the charging a cannon. Alas ! gentlemen, ftay till you
have at leaft a principality. What imports it you whofe
name governs in any particular country f Your patriot-
E 6 ifm.n
84 The King's Cabinet.

frightened all the birds from the fky for ten

leagues round, and for fagacioufly providing
provender for the ravens ; but, above all

things, thofe poets were extremely fond of de-

ifm is a falfe virtue, and dangerous to humanity. Let us

examine a little into the lignification of the word patriot,

To have an attachment to any ftate, it is neceflary to be a

member of that ftate. Now, if you except two or three
republics, there is, properly fpeaking, no fuch thing as a
country. Why fhould the Engliihman be my enemy ? I

am connected to him by commerce, by the arts, and by

every other relation pofiible ; there is no natural antipathy
between us. Why, therefore, would you, that by paiTing
certain limits, I mould feparate my intereft from that of
other men ? What we call patriotifm is a phantafy in-
vented by kings, and deftrudive to mankind 3 for, if my
nation were three times lefs than it is, I mould have three
times as many more to hate; my affections therefore muft
depend on the variable limits of dominions j in the courfe
of the fame year, I muft deftroy my neighbour, and be
friends with him that I endeavoured to mafiacre the day
before j fo that, in fact, I only maintain the rights of a
capricious matter, who would hold my foul in fubje&ion.

No $ in my judgment, Europe fhould form but one vaft

fUte ; and I dare to wifh that it may be united under one
government. All things properly confidered, it would be
highly advantageous. Then I could be in reality a patriot $

but, at the prefent day, what is it we call liberty ? " No-

thing more" (fays a certain writer) " than theheroifm of
ilavery."

fcribing
 The King's Cabinet. 85

fcribing a battle." — Oh ! I intreat you, fpeak

no more of the epidemic difeafe which then

affli&ed the human race. Alas ! they were
all feized with the fymptoms of rage and folly ;

cowardly kings, from their faftuous thrones,

gave the word for murder; and the paflive herd,
guarded by one dog only, ran chearfully to the
flaughter. How was it poflible to reclaim them
at that time of illufion ? how break the magic
talifman ? A little club, a ribband red or blue,

a fmall enamelled crofs, communicated every

where a fpirit of intoxication and fury. Others
became poffeffed by the mere fight of a cock-

ade, or a few doits. The cure neceflarily re-

quired time ; but I was fully convinced, that,
fooner or later, the lenient balm of philofophy
would cicatr ife all thofe fhameful wounds (#)•

(a) What a fight ! two hundred thoufand men fpread

over a vaft country, and only wait for the fignal to cut
each other's throat, to mafiacre one another in the face of
the fun and amidft the flowers of the fpring. It is not
hatred that excites them : No j they are commanded by
kings to murder each other. If this cruel event had ne-
ver happened but once, would not they who had not been
witnefles to it have had a juft right to doubt its veracity ?
This thought is M, GaiHard's.

They
 —

86 The King's Cabinet.

They conduced me to the cabinet of thé

mathematics. It appeared richly ftored, and in
the mod perfeft order. They had banifhed
from this fcience all that refembled the fport of
children, all that was merely dry and trifling

fpeculation, or that furpafled the bounds of the

human capacity. I faw machines of every kind
that were proper to affi ft the arm of man, and
fuch as contained much greater powers than are
known to us ; they were adapted to all forts of
motions ; and by the aid of thefe, the heavieft

weights were managed with facility. i;

You
cc
have feen," they faid, thofe obelifks, thofe
triumphal arches, thofe palaces, and other ftate r

ly buildings that aftonifh the fight. They are

not the produce of mere ftrength, of numbers,
or dexterity: it is by the aid of finifhed ma-
chines, that they have been conftrutted." In a
word, I here found the greateft variety of the
moft accurate inftruments, for the ufe of geo-'
snetry, aftronomy, and the other fcienees.

All they who had attempted experiments

that were new, bold, mafterly, and that pro-
mifed great utility, even though they did not
Cucceed (for iuftruction may be gained from
dif-
 The King's Cabinet. 87

difappointment) had their bufts ereûed, and

decorated with their proper attributes.

They whifpered, moreover, that many re-

markable, and even wonderful fecrets, were

confided to the care of a fmall number of their
fages ; for there are matters, good in themfelves*
thatmay be abufed in their application (a).
The human mind, in their opinion, was not
yet fufficiently ftrong to make ufe of the moil

rare or mod powerful difcoveries without dan-

ger (b).

(a) King Ezechias (as the Scripture informs us) fup-

prefTed a book that treated of the virtues of plants, for fear
that, by making a wrong ufe of it, they mould even
create difeafes. The fa& is curious, and affords matter
for much reflection.

(b) What a horrible day was that for the human race,
when a monk formed of falt-petre a murdering powder !

Ariofto tells us, that the devil having invented a carabine,

touched by pity, threw it into a river. Alas! there is no
longer any afylum upon the earth 5 courage now is ufe-
lefs 5 the artillery is in the hands of a fmall number of
men, an<J renders them abfolute matters of our exigence,

CHAP.
 ( 88 )

C H A P. V.

The Academy of Painting.

AS the arts among this people are conne&ed

not only in a figurative, but in a real
fenfe ; before I had gone many fteps I found
myfelf at the academy of painting. I entered
feveral large falons, adorned with the works
of the greateft mailers, each of which af-

forded a moral and inftruftive treatife. There

was no longer feen that perpetual mythology,
a thoufand times repeated, which though in-
genious in the infancy of the art, was now be-
come difguftful. The mofl pleafmg objects
lofe at laft their charms : repetition is the lan-
guage of a dunce. Thus it had happened to

all thofe grofs flatteries, with which the fawn-

ing painters had deify'd Lewis XIV. Time,
like truth, had devoured all the lying canvas ;

as it had fent to their proper place the infipid

verfes of Boileau, and the prologues of Qui-

nault, the arts were forbid to falfify (a).

There
(a) When I fee, in the gallery of Verfailles, Lewis XIV,
with a thunderbolt in his hand, fcated upon the azure
clouds,
 The Academy of Painting. 89

There, moreover, no longer exifted any of that

order of men they called connoifl'eurs, who di-

rected the artift with a golden ingot in their

hands. Genius was free, followed it own laws
and no longer debafed itfelf.

Among thefe moral paintings there were feen

no brutal battles, no fhameful debaucheries of the
fabulous gods, much lefs fovereigns furround-
ed by virtues of which they were remarkably
deficient. Such fubjeûs only as were proper
to infpire fentiments of dignity and virtue were
here exhibited. All the pagan divinities, equal-
ly abfurd and fcandalous, were avoided by the
precious pencil, now deftined to commemo*
clouds, like an avenging deity» the difdainful pity I
feel for the pencil of le Brun is almoft reflected on the
art : but when I confider that the painting furvives both
the thundering god, and the artift who created him, I
fmile.

The firft time Lewis XIV, faw a Teniers, he turned

away his head with an air of difdain, and ordered it to
be removed from the apartment, If that monarch was
difgufted with thofe good folks that dance and fing j if

he preferred the furious trooper fcowering through the

duft and fmoke of à camp, the complexion of his mind
is manifeft.

rate
 —

90 r JThe Academy of Painting.

rate the mod important actions ; by whic his

meant thofe that give a noble idea of man ; fuch
as clemency, generofity, perfeverance, courage,
and a difdain of luxury.

I found that they had exhibited all thofe im-

portant fubjefts that deferve to pafs down to pof-
terity : thegreatnefs of foul confpicuous in cer-
tain fovereigns was in particular immortalized.
I faw Henry IV. nourifhing the city he befieg-
€d ; Sullyflowly counting out a fum of money,
that was deftined for his mailer's pleafures ;

Lewis XIV. on his death-bed, crying out, u I

now find I have been too fond of war j" Trajan
tearing his veftment to bind up the wounds of
an unhappy man $ Marcus Aurelius defcending
from his horfe, durkig a hafty enterprize, to

receive the petition of a poor woman. Titus

diftributing food and remedies to the fick. St.

Hilaire ftretching out his arm, and (howing

his fon, who wept, Turenne feated amidft the
duft ; the generous Fabius putting on the chains
of a galley Have in the room of his father, &c.
I faw no gloomy or cruel fubje&s. No beggar-
ly courtiers here faid, with a fneer, " Even the
painters now preach!" Every one acknow-
ledged,
 The Academy of Painting. 91

Judged their merit, in having fele&ed the moft

fublime obje&s in human nature, that is, grand
reprefentations of the fubje&s of hiftory. They
had wifely determined that nothing was more
important. All the arts had made, fo to fay,

a wonderful aflbciation in favour of humanity.

This happy agreement had thrown a greater
on the facred effigy of virtue it was be-
luftre ;

come more adorable, and its afpeft, always

charming, afforded a public inftruftion, asjuft
as it was ftriking. Alas i how is it poflible to

refift the power of the fine arts, when with

x>ne voice they extoll and dignify the free and
noble citizen ?

All thefe pi&uresattratted the eye,~as well by

the execution as by the defign. Thefe painters
had united the Flemifh colouring with the Ita-

lian drawing ; or rather they had, by a pro-

found ftudy, furpafled them. Honours, the
only riches of the great man, at once animated
and rewarded his labours. Nature feemed to
appear as in a mirror. The friend of virtue was
unable to contemplate thefe beautiful painting
without the tender figh of pleafure. The guilty

dared not to look upon them ; they feared left

thefe
92 The Academy of Painting.

thefe animated figures fliould aflume a voice,

accufe, and confound them.

They told me that thefe pictures were exhi-

bited to the people ; ftrangers werealfo admit-
ted ; for they praftifed not that mean tyranny
which excludes all who come from beyond a
certain limit. Every year they propofed four
fubjefls, that the artift might have time to give

his work a due degree of perfection. The moft

finifhed eafily obtained the fufFrage of the peo-
ple; for attention was paid to the general voice,
wliich is commonly that of equity itfelf. The ,

others, however, were fure to receive their

due portion of praife. They were far from
the injuftice of difcouraging the fcholar. The
eftablifhed mafters were void of that unworthy
and bafe jealoufy, which banifhed Pouffin far
from his country, and caufed Le Seur to perifh

in the flower of his days. They had diverted

themfelves of that dangerous and fatal preju-

dice, which, in my time, permitted no fcholar
to follow any other manner than that of his
mafter. They did not make infipid copyifts
of thofe who, directed by good precepts, and
then left to themfelves, would have attained
the
 The Academy of Painting. 93:

the height of their profeflion. The difciple, in

a word, did not bend under a yoke that ren-

dered him fpiritlefs ; nor pace, with flow and

trembling fteps, after a capricious mafter, and
one too whom he was obliged to flatter. If he
proved to be a man of genius, he went before
him, and his preceptor was the firftto glory in

his advancement.

There were feveral academies of drawing,

painting, fculpture, and praftical geometry.

Thefe arts, dangerous in my age, becaufe they

encouraged luxury, pride, cupidity, and de-
bauchery, were now become highly ufeful, as
they were only employed to infpire fentiments
of virtue, and to give to the city that majefty,
thofe charms, that noble and fimple tafte, which
by a fecret connexion elevates the minds of the
people.

These fchools were open to the public. The

difciples worked under its aufpices. Every one
was permitted to declare his opinion. This did
not, however, prevent the anthorifed directors

from making a proper infpe£lion. But no fcho-

lar was confidered as dependent on any parti-

cular
94 The Academy of Painting.

cular matter, but as related to them all in ge-

neral. By avoiding the appearance of a defpo-
tic power, fo fatal to a mafterly and free ge-
nius, they were enabled to produce artifts who
had furpafled the chef-d'œuvres of antiquity.
Their paintings were fo highly finHhed, that
the remains of Raphael and Rubens were no
longer fought after, but by fome obftinate and
opinionated antiquaries.

It is needlefs to fay that all the arts and pro-

feffions were equally free. It is only in a weak,
barbarous, and tyrannic age, that fetters are
; that a fum of money is re-
given to induftry
quired ofhim who would labour in any profef-
Con, inftead of affording him a recompenfe.
All thofe little ludicrous corporations ferve no
other purpofe, by collecting a number of peo-
ple together, but to ferment their pafTions to a
more violent degree. A multitude of indeter-
minable incidents arife from that bondage,
which neceflarily render them enemies to each
other. So in a prifon, men, when chained to-

gether, communicate their rancour and their

vices. By endeavouring to prevent private in-
terefts, they have rendered it more adlive,

6 which
 The Academy of Painting. 9$
which is juft thecontrary to what a wife legif-

lature fhould purfue. A thoufand diforders pro-

ceed from this perpetual conftraint, by which
men are prevented from exercifing their parti-

cular talents. From hence fpring idlenefs and

fraud. The misfortune arifes from the impo-
tence of thofe who would relieve themfelves

from that deplorable ftate, in which they are

held by an arm of brafs, and which nothing
but gold can relax. The monarch, to enjoy a

trifling tribute, has deflroyed the moft facred li-

berty, and choaked up all the fources of fpirit

and induftry.

Among thefe people, well inftru&ed in the

rights of mankind, each one followed that par-

ticular employ to which his genius led him ;

the fure pledge of fuccefs. They who had no
propenfity to the fine arts, applied themfelves
to more attainable profeffions ; for no medio-
crity is allowable in works of genius. The
glory of the nation appears to be affe£ted by
thofe talents, which diftinguifh not only men,
but empires.

CHAP.
 (96)

CHAP. VI.

Emblematic Paintings.

Entered a feparate apartment, where

I they had represented the feveral ages. To
each of them was given, befides its natural phy-

fiognorny, thofe features by which it was dif-

tinguifhed from its brethren. The age of igno-

rance was clothed in a black and mournful

robe. Her eyes were red and gloomy, and in

her hand ftie bore a torch. At a diftance was

feen a funeral pile, before which flood priefis
covered with a long veil, and human victims,
their eyes concealed by bandages, who were
devoted to the flames.

Further on I faw a wild enthufiaft, with-

out any other merit than that of a heated ima-
gination, with which he fired thofe of his fel-
low citizens, not lefs inflammable ; and by
thundering forth die name of the deity, he drew
after him a crowd of people, as a docile herd
run after the voice of the fhepherd. Even kings
quitted their thrones, abandoned their depopu-
lated
 Emblematical Paintings. Q7
lated ftates, and believing they heard a voice
from heaven, facrificed themfelves,theircrowns,
and their fubje&s, in the midft of vaft defert?.

In the back ground was feen Superflition ftrid-

ing over the heads of mankind, and (haking
her murdering torch. Gigantic monfter ! her
feet touched the two extremities of the earth,
and her arm, holding the palm of martyrdom,
was extended to the clouds.

Another, lefs ardent, but more contem-

plative, was devoted to myftery and allegory,
and wrapt up in the marvellous; was conftantly
furrounded by enigmas, and endeavouring to
thicken the fhades by which he was enveloped.
There were feen the Platonic years, the num-
bers of Pythagoras, the verfes of the Sybils,
the powerful charms of magic, and thofe pref-

riges, fometimes ingenious and fometimes inlî-

pid, that the mind of man has created.

Another held in his hand an aftrolabe,

attentively regarded the calendar, and calcu-
lated the hours fortunate and unfortunate. A
cold and filent gravity was "imprinted on his
protrafted vifage. He turned pale at the con-
Vol. II. F junction
-Ç? Emblematical Paintings.

junction of two ftars. The prefcnt hour was

nothing to him, and the future was his executio-
ner. His religion was directed by the iidiculous
jargon of aftrology, and he embraced that
phantom as an immoveable column.

Then appeared a figure covered with armour;

his head was enclofed in a brazen helmet, and
in his hand he bore a lance. He breathed no-
thing but fmgle combat. The foul of this hero
was more hardened than the fteel that covered
him. It was by arms alone that right, opinion,

juftice, and truth, \v;ere to be decided. In the

back ground were feen the field of combat,
judges and heralds fupported the vanquiftued, or
rather the guilty.

In another part was feen a figure totally bur-

lefque. A Gothic architect, erecting columns

that had no proportion to the weight they fup-
ported, and which were charged with ridicu-
lous ornaments.^ and thofe hethought a refine-
ment in building, unknown to the Greeks or
Romans. The fame irregularity was confpicu-
ous in his logic, which confided of abftraéfc

ideas, and perpetual chicanery. At a diftance

were
 Emblematical -Parniingi .
g9

were feen a fort of fleep-walkers, who talked

and a£ted with their eyes open, but, plunged in
a long dream, never coiwie£ted two ideas, un-
lefs by chance.

Thus every age fucceffively preferited itfelf ;

but the detail would be here too long. I

flood for fome time regarding the eighteenth

century, induced by my ancient connection
with it. It was reprefented by the painter
under the figure of a woman. A number of
borrowed and coftly ornaments loaded her proud
and delicate head. Her neck, her arms, and
breaft, were covered with pearls and diamonds.
Her eyes were bright and fparkîing, but a
fomewhat affccSted fmile gave an air of grimace
to her mouth. Her cheeks were covered with
a flaming red. Art appearedto be mixed with

her words, as with her looks ; they were allur-

ing, but not true. She held in each hand a
long rofe-coloured ribband, which feemed or-
naments, but concealed two iron chains, by
which flie was ftrongly bound. She had, how-
ever, liberty enough to gesticulate, to prançe,
and gambol, and this (he did to excefs, in or-

der, (as it fliould feem) to difguife her flavery,

or at leaft tt make it more eafy and pleafing.
F 2 I ex-
 ICO Emblematical Paintings.

I examined her figure with attention, and trac-

ing the drapery of her veftmenr, I perceived
that her pompous robe was at the bottom in
tatters, and covered with dirt. Her naked feet

were plunged in a kind of bog ; her lower ex-

tremities were as hideous as her head was bril-

liant. She appeared in this drefs not much un-

like one of thofe ftrumpets who walk the ftreets

at the beginning of the night. I difcovered

behind her a number of children, with meagre
livid afpefts, who cried to their mother while
they devoured a morfel of black bread. She
endeavoured to hide them with her robe, but
between the tatters thofe wretched infants ftill

appeared. At a diftance in the picture were

feen fuperb palaces, buildings of marble, par-
terres artfully laid out, vaft forefts peopled with

deer, where the horn reiounded from afar. But

the country, half uncultivated, was filled with
wretched peafants, who harrafled by fatigue,
funk under their burthens : then appeared men
who forced away part of them to the wars, and
tookfrom the reft their beds and their kettles (a).

The
(a) Tyranny is a dangerous tree, which (hould be root-
ed out as foon as planted. The beauty of this tree is de-
ceitful*
 Emhlemattcal Paintings. i oi

The characters of the different nations were

cxprefled with equal fidelity. By colours varie-

gated with a thoufand mixtures, by a gloomy

and melancholy countenance, was diftinguifh-
ed the jealous and vindictive Italian. In the
fame pi&ure his thoughtful looks difappeared
in the midft of a concert ; the painter had

feized, with remarkable addrefs, that crifis to

make him become fuple in an inftant. The

back ground contained a reprefentation of the
droll jefts of pantomimes.

The Englifliman, in an attitude rather

Baughty than majeftic, ftanding upon the point

ceitful. While young it appears crowned with flowers

and laurels, but is fecretly nourished by blood. It foon
grows, fpreads its branches, and lifts its lofty head. It

covers all that forrounds it with a failuous and deadly

made. The neighbouring fruits and flowers perim, de-
prived of the beneficent rays of the fun, which it inter-
cepts* It compels the earth to nourifh none but itfelf.

It at la(l becomes like ihat venomous tree, whofe fweet

fruit is poifon, and that changes the drops of rain which
diftil from its leaves into' a corrofive fluid, that give the
weary traveller at once fleep and death. In the mean
time its trunk becomes knotty, its fap is changed into
hard wood, and the branches of its brazen root are ex-
tended ; the ax of liberty becomes blunt, and can make
no imprefiîon on it.

F3 of
102 Emblematical Paintings.

of a rock, commanded the ocean, and gave to

a veflel the fignal to vifit the new world, and
bring him back its treafures. His bold looks
declared that his private liberty was equal to
that of the. public. Contending fleets, growl-
ing under the ftrokes of the temped, affordedf
his ear fweet harmony. His hand was cori-

ftaatly ready to feize the fword of civil war,

and with a fmile he looked ftedfaft at a fcaf-

fold, on which fell a head and a crown.

The German, under a fky that flaflied with

lightning, was deaf to the roaring of the ele-
ments : it was hard to fay whether he braved
them, or was infenfible. His eagles tore each
other by his fide, which to him it was mere di-

verfion. Wrapped up in himfelf he beheld his

deftiny with aphilofophic or infenfible eye.

The Frenchman, full of noble and elevated

graces, prefented a refined afpeft. His figure
was not original, but his manner was great.
Imagination and judgment were exprefled in
his countenance; he fmiled with an addrefs
that feemed to approach deceit. There ran
through the whole of his figure much unifor-
mity..
 Sculpture and Engraving. IÔ3

imty. His colours were pleafing, but there was

nothing of that boldnefs, nor of that fine effe£l
of lights, which were admired in the other pic-
tures. The fight was fatigued by a multipli-
city of details, that reciprocally injured each/
other. An innumerable crowd bore little

drums, which they were continually beating,

and thought they imitated the roaring of ca-
non : It was a paffion as bufy and boiflerous,
as it was weak and tranfient.

CHAP. VII.

Sculpture and Engraving*

SCulpture, not lefs pleafing than her elder

fifter, difplayed in turn all the wonders of
her art, which was no longer proftituted to thofc

impudent fons of wealth, who debafed it by

executing reprefentions of their venal figures,
or fome other fubjeft equally defpicable. The
artift, provided for by the government, confe-
crated his talent to merit and virtue only.
There was not here feen, as in our apartments,
F 4 by
104 Sculpture and Engraving.
V
ty the fide of the king's buft, the vile tax-ga-
therer who deceived and defrauded him, pre-
fenting without fhame his bafe phyfiognomy.
Does a man, by advancing himfelf in a career
of memorable aftions become worthy of the re-
gard of pofterity ? Does another perform feme
great and valiant exploit ? The animated artift

then charges himfelf with the public acknow-

ledgment ; he meditates in private one of the
moft mafterly performances of his days, and,
without adding the portrait of the author, he
prefently produces his work and obtains per-
miffion to immortalife himfelf with the hero i

his labour ftrikes every eye, and has no need of

a frigid commentary. The fculptor was ex-
prefly forbid thofe fubje&s that did not fpeak to

the mind, and confequently the fine marble, or

other matters equally valuable, were no longer
wafted.

All thofe licentious fubje&s that loaded

our chimney pieces were ftri&ly prohibited»
Men of merit had no conception of our legifla-
tion, when they read in hiftory that in an age
which fo frequently pronounced the words Reli-
gion and Morality, the father of a family fhould
exhibit
 Sculpture and Engraving* 105

exhibit fcenes of debauchery to the eyes of his

children, under pretence that they were mafter-
pieces of art ; that they fhould expofe objects

capable of heating the moft tranquil imagina-

tion, and of filling young minds, open to every

impreflion, with diforderly ideas j they were

grieved at this public and criminal pra&ice of
depraving the mind before it was completely
formed (a).
An
(a) Among other public abufes propofed to beredrefled,
may be ranked thofe licentious (hews that offend not only
againft found morals but good fenfe, equally refpetlable.'

When fpeaking of the theatres, we forget to mention the

tumblers and rope dancers 5 but the difpofuion of a work
is of no great momen", provided the author there includes
all his ideas. I mall, like Montaigne, turn back upoa
every occafion ; I difregard the cenfure of the critics 5 I

flatter myfelf, that, at leaft, I (hall not belike ^hem, dif-

guftful. To return then to the tumblers and rope-dancers,

fo common and fo (hocking (hould they be tolerated by
;

humane magiftrates ? After having employed all their

time in exercifes equally aftonifhing and frivolous, they

rtfk their lives in public, and tell a thoufand fpedators,
that the death of a man is a matter of very little confe-

quence. The attitudes of thefe performers are befide in-

decent, and offend both the eye and the heart. They per-
haps alfo accuftom minds not yet formed to find no plea-
fure but in that which is attended with danger, anfi to

think that the life of a man may make part of our diver-

F 5 fions.
ïbô Sculpture and Engraving.

An artift, to whom I applied for information,

carefully explained to me allthefe great changes.

He told me, that in the nineteenth century there

was a great fcarcity of marble, fo that they were

obliged to have recourfe to the heap of finan-
ciers, tax-gatherers, and fecretaries bufts, which
were fo many blocks in part ready prepared ;

they were therefore eafily reformed, and became

finifiied pieces,

I passed into the laft gallery, not Iefs curious

than the others for the multiplicity of pieces it

contained. There was aflembled an univerfai

collection of drawings and engravings. Not*
withftanding the great improvements in the
laft art, they had preferved the works of the
preceding ages ; for it is not with prints as

with books ; a book muft be either good or

bad, whereas a print, which prefents itfelf to

the eye only, may always ferve as an objeel of

iomparifon.

fions. It will be fard, that this is moralifing on very tri-

fling fubjecls ; but I have remarked that thefe wretched

performances have much more influence on the multitude
tba* all thofe arts that have fome appearance of ratio-
nality.
This
 Sculpture and Engraving* 1<>J

This gallery, which owed its origin to the

age of Lewis XV. was now very, differently

difpofed. It was no longer a fmall room, in the

midft of vihich was a table that could fcarce
contain a dozen artifts, and where you might
go ten times before you found a vacant place.
Thatclofet, moreover, was open only on cer-
tain clays, in the whole fcarce a tenth part of
the year, and which fmall portion was liable

to be abridged at any time by the caprice of the

director. Thefe galleries were open every day,
and committed to the care of polite affiftants,
who were punctually paid, that they might ferve
the public with the fame punctuality. In this
fpacious room, you were fure to find a print of
each painting and fculpture contained in the
other galleries ; it prefented an abridgment
of thofe chef-d'eeuvres which they had la-

boured to immortalife, and to diffufe to the

greateft degree poflible*

Engraving is as fruitful and happy aè

printing ; it has the advantage of multiplying
its impreffion, as printing does its copies ; and
by that mean every private perfon, every ftran-
ger, may procure a rival copy of a painting. All
F6 the
ïe8 Sculpture and Engraving*

the inhabitants decorate, without jealoufy, their

walls with thefe interefting fubje&s, which re-
prefent examples of virtue and heroifm. We
no longer fee thofe pretended connoifieurs, no
ïefs futile than ignorant, who purfue an imagi-
nary perfection at the expence of their eafe aiid

their wealth, conftantly liable to be duped, and

to which they were remarkably difpofed.

I ran over with avidity thofe «voluminous

works in which the engraver had described, with
,fo much facility and precifion, not only the
contours, but the colours of nature ; all the
paintings were exprefled to perfedion ; but
what had moft engaged their attention were
thofe objects that relate to the arts and fciences.
The plates of the Encyclopedia had been entire-
ly regraved, and they had more carefully at-
tended to that rigourous precifion which is

their chief merit, as the leaft error is of the

higheft confequence. I obferved a magnificent

courfe of natural philofophy treated in the fame

jnanner ; and as that fcience is, in a peculiar

manner, the obje& of the fenfes, it is by the

figures relative to it, that, perhaps, we attain

juft ideas of all its parts* An art that affords

fo
 Sculpture and Engraving. lûg

{o many ufeful fubjech is deferving of high

efteem, and they had here given it frefli marks
of confideration.

I observed, that all was executed in true

tafte ; manner of Ger-

that they followed the

rard Audran, and which they had improved

by carrying it to the higheft degree of perfection

poflible. The flour ifh es in books were no longer

called cochins ; and many other like miferable

phrafes were aboliflied (a).

The engravers had defifted from the ufe of

that pernicious glafs, which deftroyed their
fight entirely. The connoiflfeurs of this age

were no admirers of thofe little points in which

all the merit of modern engraving confifts;
they preferred large, free, regular ftrokes, that
exprefled every thing with certain touches that
were juft and nobly defigned., The engraver
readily confulted the painter, who, in his turn,
avoided affe&ing the caprice of a mafter. They
efteemed one another, they lived together as
friends and equals, and were far from reflecting

(a) M. Voltaire fliould be fatisfied before-hand ; he,

who has fo long pleaded for this important reformation*

the
 .

tlô The Hall of Audience*

the faults of any work on each other. Engraving

was, moreover, become of great advantage to
the ftate, by the commerce of prints with fo-

reigners, fo that of thefe artifts it may be faid,

that under their propitious hands copper be-
comes gold.

CHAP. VIII.

The Hall of Audience.

Could not quit thefe rich galleries without

I the greateft regret ; but my infatiable cu-

riofity, that would leave nothing unfeen, car-

ried me into the center of the city. I faw a

great multitude, compofed of each fex, and of
every age, that flocked with precipitation to-
ward a portal that was magnificently decorated.
I heard from different parts, " Let us make
hafte ! our good king has* perhaps, already
mounted his throne ; we {hall fcarce fee him
afcend it to-day." — I followed the crowd, but
was much aftonifhed to find that there were no
ferocious guards to beat back the thronging
people.
 fie Hall of Audience. tm
people. I came to a moft fpacious hall, fup-

ported by many columns ; 1 advanced, and at

laft came near to the monarch's throne. No ;

it is impofhble to conceive an idea of royal

majefty more pleafing, more auguft, more
graceful and engaging. I was melted, even to
tears. I faw no thundering Jupiter, no terri-

ble apparatus, no inftruments of vengeance.

Four figures of white marble, reprefenting
fortitude, temperance, juftice, and clemency,
fupported a plain armed chair of white ivory,
which was elevated merely to extend the voice.

The chair was crowned with a canopy, fupport-

ed by a hand, the arm of which feemed to
come out of the vaulted roof. On each fide of
the throne there were two tables ; on one fide
was engraved the law of the ftate, and the limits

of the royal authority ; and on the other, the

duties of kings and of fubje£ls. In front was
a woman fuckling a child ; a faithful emblem of
royalty. The firft ftep to the throne, was in
form of a tomb. . Upon it was wrote in large
charaders, ETERNITY. Under this ftep
repofed the embalmed body of the laft monarch,
there to remain till deplaced by his Ton. From
thence he cried to his heirs, that they were all

mor-
 .

122 The Hall ofÀndtwce»

mortal ; that the dream of royalty was near?

finifhed; that then nothing would remain to*

them but their renown.

This vaft place was already filled with peo*

pie, when I faw the monarch approach, clothed
in a blue mantle that gracefully flowed behind
him j his forehead was bound with a branch of
olive, that was his diadem ; he never appeared
in public without this refpe£lable ornament,,
which was revered by others and by himfelfV
There were loud acclamations when he mount-
ed the throne, and he did not appear infenfible
to the cries of joy. Scarce was he featedj when
an awful filence was fpread over the whole af-

fembly. I liftened with attention. His minifters

read to him,withaloudvoice,an account of every
thing remarkable that had pafled fince the laft

audience. If the truth had been difguifed, the

people were there to confound the detraâor.
Their demands were not forgot. An account
was rendered of the execution of orders before
given. This reading always concluded with,
the daily price of provifions and merchandife.
The monarch hears, and approves by a nod,
or refers the matter to a more minute exami-
nation ;

2
 The Hall of éditrice* 113

nation. But if from the bottom of the hall there

fliould be heard a voice complaining, or con-
demning any one article ; though it were that
of the meanefl citizen, he is brought forward
to a little circle formed before the throne ; there
he explains his ideas (a) 5 and if he appear ta
be right, he is attended to, applauded, and
thanked ; the fovereign regards him with a fa-
vourable afpett i but if, on the contrary, ha
advances nothing to the purpofe, or what ap-
pears plainly to be founded on private advan-
tage, he îs difmifled with difgrace, and the
hoots of the people follow him to the door»

Every man may prefent himfelf without any

other apprehenfion than that of incurring the
public derifion, if what he propofe be unjuft or
felf-interefted.

(#) It is one of the greateft misfortunes in France, that

the police and adminiftration of all affairs is directed en-

tirely by the magiftrates, by men inverted with a place*
and a title, who never deign to confult (at leaft on the
part of the public) private perfonsthat are frequently en-
dowed with knowledge and fagacity to an eminent de-
gree. The moft worthy and accomplished citizen cannot
difplay his ufeful talents and the dignity of his fentiments,
unlefs poiTeiTed of a public employment ; he muft ftifle-

his noble deiîgns, bea witnefs ta the mod flagrant abufes,

and be filent.

Two
114 ^ Hdl of Audience.

Two principal officers of the crown accom*

pany the monarch in all public ceremonies, and
walk by his fide ; the one carries, on the point
of a fpear, an ear of corn, and the other a branch
of the vine (a) 9 which ferve conftandy to re*
mind him that they are the two fupports of the
ftate and the throne. He is followed by the
pantler of the crown, bearing a bafket of
loaves, which he diftributes to every one that
afks. This bafket is the fure thermometer of
the public diftrefs ; and when it is found empty,
the minifters are difmifled and puniflied ; the
bafket, however, conflantly remains full* and
declares the public profperity.

This auguft feffion is held every week, and

lafts three hours. I went from the hall with a
heart filled with complacency, and with the
profoundeft refpeâ: for this monarch, whom I
loved as a father, and revered as a protecting di-
vinity.

(*)The emperor Taifang walking in the country, and

feeing anumber of peafants at woik, faid to his fon, who
attended him, " Without the fweat and labour of thefc
men, neither you nor Ilhculd have any empire."

Icon-
 5

The Hall cf Audience. 1

1

I conversed with fevcral perfons on all that

I had feen and heard ; they were furprifed at

my aftonifliment ; all thefe things feemed to
them quite fimple and natural. —" Why," faid

one of them, u will you have the rafhnefs to

compare the prefent time to an cxtravagantand
capricious age ; that entertained falfe ideas of
the moil fimple matters, when pride was great-
nefs,when fplendor and (tentation were all>
and when virtue was regarded as a phantom,
the mere imagination of dreaming philofo^
phers (*).

(a) We mould pay a refpecl to popular prejudices H !

the language of narrow and pusillanimous fouls, to whom

the mere exigence of a law is fufficient to make it facred.
Does the man of virtue, to whom alone it belongs to Jove
or hate, acknowledge this criminal moderation ? No ; he-

charges himfelf with the public vengeance, his right i*

founded on his genius, and the juftice of Ms caufeon the-

acknowledgment of pofterity,

CHAP,
 ( u6 )

C H A P. IX.

The Form of Government*

MAY what is the prefent form of go-

I afk

vernment? Is is monarchical, demo-

cratic, or aristocratie (a)? —
« It is neither of
them j it is rational, and made for man. Mon-
archy is no more. Monarchical governments,,
as you knew, though to little purpofe, lofe

themfelves in d'efpotifm, as the rivers are loft

in the bofom of the ocean; and dèfpotifm
foon finks under its own. weight (b). This has

been

(a) The genius of a nation does not depend on the at*

mofphere that furrounds it 5 the clima e is not the phyfi-
cal caufe of its grandeur or debafement. Force and cou-
rage belong to all the people of the earth 5 but the caufe*.
that put them in motion and fuftain them* are derived
from certain circurmlances, that are fometimes fudden,
fometimes flow in their operations j but, fooner or later,
they never fail to arrive- Happy are the people who, by
information or by inftinct, feize the crifis !

{b) Would you know what are the general principles

that habitually prevail in the councils of a monarch ? here
follows the fubflance of what is there faid, or rather of

what is there done. Taxes of every kind fliould be mul-

tiplied^
 "The Form of Government. 117

been all literally accomplifhed, and never was

there a more certain prophecy.

"When
tiplied, for the prince can never be rich enough, confider-
ing that he is obliged to maintain armies and the officers

of his houfhold, who ought, by all means, to be ex-

tremely magnificent. If the people complain of thefe
loads they do wrong, and muft be curbed.

No injuftice can be done them, for in reality they

have nothing but what the good will of the prince gives
them, and which he may take again whenever he (hall
think fit, efpec'alîy if the intereft orfplendor of his crown
require it. Bu de, it is notorious, that a people at their
eafe, and in the rnidft of plenty, become lefs laborious,

and may become infolent. We mould therefore retrench

their profperity that we may add to their fubmiflion. The

pove ty of the fubjecl is forever the ftrongeft rampart of
a monarch ; and the poorer the individuals are, the more
obedient the nation will be. Once taught to. fubmit,
they will perform it by habit, which is the mod certain
method of being obeyed. It is not fufficient that they
merely fubmit, they mould be taught to believe, that the
fpirit of wifdom here prefides in the higheft perfection,

and fubmit accordingly, without daring to difpute about

the decrees that proceed from our infallible knowledge.

If a philofopher mould have accefs to this prince, and

advancing to the midft of his council, mould fay to him,
M Take heed how you give credit to thefe evil coun*
fellors 3
you are furrounded by the enemies of your fa-
mily : your grandeur and fecui ity are founded lefs on an
arbitrary
t\8 The Form of Government.

*' When we confider the lights that have been

acquired, it would doubtiefs be a difgrace to
the human race, to have meafured thediftance
between the fun and the earth, to have weighed
the heavenly orbs, and not to have difcovered
thofe fimple and efficacious laws by which man-
kind fhould be governed. It is true, that pride,

luxury, and felf-intereft produce a thoufand ob-

ftacles ; but how glorious is it to difcover the

means of making thofe private paflions fubfer-

vient to the general good ! The veflel that

plows the ocean commands the elements at the

fame moment that it is obedient to their em-

pire ; fubmiflive to a double impulfe, it incef-

arbitrary power, than on the love cf your people. If

they are unhappy, they will the more ardently wifli for

a revolution, and will make either your throne, or that

of your children. The people are immortal, but yon
mud pafs away. The majefty of the throne refides

more in a truly paternal tendemefs, than in an unlimit-

ed power j that .power is violent, and contrary to the
order of nature. v
By being more moderate, you wit)

become more potent. Set an example of juftice, and

know that it is by morality alone that a prince becomes
powerful and refpeclable." This philofopher would
certainly be taken for an enthufiaft, and perhaps they
•would not even vouchfafe to punifti him for his virtue*

7 famly
 9

TJje Farm of Government. 1 1

fantly re-a£ts againfl them. You there fee, per-

haps, the mod lively image of a ftate ; born up

by tempeftuous paffions, it receives from them
its movements, and at the fame time refifts the

itorm. " The art of the pilot is all." Your

political light was nothing more than a crepuf-

cule ; and you wretchedly complained of the

Author of nature, at the fame time that he had
given you both intelligence and ftrength for
government. There only wanted a loud voice
toroufe the multitude from their lethargy. If op-
preffion thundered on your heads, you ought to
have accufed your own weaknefs only. Liberty
and happinefs appertain to thefe who dare tofeize

them. All is revolution in this world ; the

moft happy of all has had its point of maturity»
and we have gathered its fruits [a).

(a) In certain Hates it is an epoch that becomes neceC-

fary 3 an epoch terrible and bloody, but the fignal of

liberty. It is of a civil war that I fpeak. It is that calls

forth all the men of exalted genius, fome to attack, and
others to defend liberty. A civil war difplays the moft

hidden talents, Men of wonderful abilities arife, and

appear worthy to command the human race. It is a
horrid remedy ! But in the ftupor of a ftate, when the
minds of men are plunged in a deep lethargy, it becomes
necefiary.

« Freed
120 The Form of Government.

" Freed from oppreflion, we have taken

care not to place all the ftrength and fprings
of government, all the rights and attributes of
power, in the hands of one man (a). Inftruft-
ed by the misfortunes of paft ages, we are
become lefs imprudent. If Socrates or Mar-
cus Aurelius fhould again vifit the earth,
we fhould not confide to them, an arbitrary
power ; not from a miftruft, but from a fear
of depreciating the facred chara&er of a free
citizen. Is not the law the voice of the gene-
ral will of the people ? And how can we dare

(a) A defpotic government is nothing more than a

league between a fovereign and a fmall number of fa-
vourite fubjefts, in order to cheat and plunder the reft.

In that cafe the monarch, or he that reprefents him, di-

vides and deftroys fociety, becomes a feparate and cen-
tral body, that lights up every paflion as it lifts, and fets

them in motion for its perfonal intereft. He creats juf-

tice and injuftice, his humour becomes a law, and his

favour the meafure of public efteem. This fyftem is

too violent to be durable. Juftice, on the contrary, is a

barrier that equally protects the fubjeft and the prince*
Liberty alone can form animated citizens, the only citi-

zens, in faft, among rational beings, A king is never

powerful but at the head of a free and contented people.
The nation once debafed, the throne finks.

to
 The Form of Government* 121

to commît fo important a depofit to a fingle

man ? Has he not his unguarded moments ?

And, even fuppofing him to be free from

them, (hall men refign that liberty which is

their mod valuable inheritance (à) ?

" We have experienced how contrary an

abfolute fovereignty is to the true intereft of a

nation. The art of railing refined tributes, all

the powers of that terrible machine progreffive-

ly multiplied ; the embarrafment of the laws,
one oppofing another; chicanery devouring
the poflefiions of individuals ; the cities crowded
by privileged tyrants; the venality of offices -,

minifters and intendants treating the different

parts of the kingdom as conquered countries 5
a fubtle hardnefs of heart th§t juftifies inhu-

(a) Liberty begets miracles, it triumphs over nature*

it caufes harvefts to grow upon rocks 5 it gives a fmiling
air to the moft doleful regions ; it enlightens the pea-
fant, and makes him more penetrative than the proud
flaves of the moft polimed court. Other climates, the
moft finifhed works of the creation, delivered up to fer-
vitude, exhibit nothing but defolated lands, pale and de-
jected vifages, that dare not lift their eyes to heaven;
Choofe then, man! be happy or miferable ; if yet it be in
thy power to choofe : fear tyranny, deteft flavery, arm
thyfelf, live free, or die.

Vol. II, G manityj

122 The Form of Government*

inanity ; royal officers, who are in no degree

refponfible to the people, and who infult them,
Head of liftening to their complaints ; fuch
was the effeâ: of that vigilant defpotifm,
which collected every intelligence, to employ
it to a bad purpofe ; not unlike thofe burning
glaffes that coll eft the fun's rays, to deftroy
fuch obje£ts as are prefented to them. When
we pafled through France, that fine kingdom,
which nature has favoured with her propi-
tious regards, what did we behold ? Diftri&s
defolated by tax-gatherers ; cities become bo-
roughs, and boroughs villages ; the people
pale and meagre ; in a word, beggars inftead

of inhabitants. All thefe evils were known ;

but evident principles were avoided to em-

brace a fyftem of diflipation (#), and the fhad-
dows that were raifed, authorifed the general
depredation.

{a) An intendant of the province, defirous of giving

the ****, who was going to Soiflbns, an idea of the
abundance that reigned in France, caufed the fruit-trees
of the country round about to be dug up, and planted in
the ftreets o< the city, by digging up the pavement.
Thefe trees he decorated with garlands of gilt paper. This
intendant was, without knowing it, a very great pain-
ter.

«Can
 The Form of Government. '

ïaj

u Can you believe it? The revolution was

effected without trouble, and by the heroifm
of one great man. A philofophic prince,

worthy of a throne, becaufe he regarded it

with indifference more follicitous for the hap-
;

pinefs of mankind than for the phantom of

power, diftrufting pofterity, and diftrufting
himfelf, offered to put the eftates of the na-
tion in pofleflion of their ancient prerogatives;
he was fenfible, that in an extenfive kingdom
there mould be an union of the different pro-

vinces, in order to its being well governed ;

as in the human body, befide the general cir-

culation, each part has one that is peculiarly
adapted to itfelf ; fo each province, while it

obeys the general laws, modifies thofe that are

peculiar to it, agreeable to its foil, its pofition,
its commerce and refpe&ive interdis. Ilence
all lives, all flourifhes. The provinces are no
longer devoted to ferve the court, and orna-
ment the capital (a). A blind order from the
throne,

(a) From error and ignorance fpring all the evils that
epprefs humanity. Man is wicked only becaufe he mif-
takes his true in'ereft. In fpeculative phyiics, in aftro-
oomy, and mathematics, we may err without any real
G & detriment;
124 Tb* Form of Government.

throne, does not carry troubles into thofe parts

where the king's eye has never 'penetrated.
Each province is the guardian of its own fe-

curity and its own happinefs ; its principle of

life is not far too diftant from it ; it is with-
in itfelf, always ready to alTift the whole,

detriment j but politics will not admit of the leaft error.

There are vices in government more destructive than natu-

ral plagues. An error of this kind depopulates and impo-
verimes a kingdom. If the moft fevere, the moft pro-
found fpeculation is ever neceftary, it is in thofe public
•nd problematic cafes, where reafons of equal weight
hold the judgment in equilibrium. Nothing is then more
dangerous than the tricks of office j they produce incon-
ceivable errors ; and the (late is not fenflble of its condi-
tion till arrived on the brink of ruin. We cannot, there-
fore, be too clear in the complicated art of government, as
the leaft deviation is a line thatconftantly recedes as it in-

Creafes, and produces an immenfe error. The laws have

been hitherto nothing more than palliatives, that have
been turned into general remedies ; they are, as has been
very juftly faid, the offspring of necefiity, and not of phi-
lofophy ; it belongs to the latter to correct, their defects.
But what courage, what zeal, what love of humanity muft.
he have, who, from fuch a chacs, (hall form a regular fyf-

tem Bur, at the fame time, where

! is the man that
would be more dear to the human race ? Let him re-
member, that it is of all objects the moft important } that

the happinefs of mankind, and confequently their virtues,

are therein highly interefted»

and
 .

The Form of Government. 125

and to remedy evils that may arife. The prefent

fuccours are left to thofe who are intruded in
its welfare, and will not palliate the cure, much
lefs will they rejoice at thofe incidents that may
weaken their country.

" The abfolute fovereignty is now abolifh-

cd ; the chief magiftrate preferves the name of

king ; but he does not foolifhly attempt to bear
all that burden which opprefled his anceftors.

The legiflative power of the kingdom is lodg-

ed in the ftates affembled. The adminiftra-
tion of affairs, as well political as civil, is

affigned to the fenate j and the monarch, arm-

ed with the fword of ju.fticc, watches over the
execution of the laws. He propofes every
ufeful eftablifhment. The fenate is refpon-
fible to the king, and the king and fenate are
refponfible to the ftates ; .which are affembled
every two years. All is there decided by the
majority of voices. The enacting of new
laws, the filling of vacant pofts, and" the re-

dreffing of grievances, appertain to them ; par-

ticular, or unforefeen cafes are left to the wif-.

dom of the monarch.

G 3 ?--He
 £26 ?3S Form of Government.

u He is happy (/?), and his throne is fixed

upon a bafis the more folid, as his crown is

guaranted by the liberty of the nation (£).

Thofe foufe, that would have been but mean,

owe their virtue tô that eternal iource of great-

nefs. The citizen is not feparated from the

itate*, he is incorporated with it (t), and, in
return,

(a) M. d'Alembert fays, that a king who does his duty

is of all men the moft miferable ; and that he who does it
not, is of ail others the moft to be pitied. *f But why is the
king who does his duty the moft miferable ? Is it from
the multiplicity of his labours ? No ; a happy labour is a
j-eal pleafure. Does he make no account of that inward
fatisfaclion which arifes from a confcioufnefs of having
promoted the happinefs of mankind ? Does he not believe
that virtue is its own reward ? Beloved by all, except the
wicked, can the heart of fuch a king be infenfible to plea*
fure ? Who has not felt the fatisfa&ion that refults from
doing good j The king who does not fulfil his duty is the
moft to be pitied. Nothing more .true, efpecially if he be
fenfible to remorfe and infamy ; if he be not, he is ftiil the

more to be pititd. Nothing more juft than this laft pro-

portion.

{I) It is good in every ft a te, even in a republic, to have

a limited chief. It is a fort of fpeftre that drives away
ail projects from the mind of the ambitious. Royalty in
this cafe is like a fcare-crow in a field, that prevents

the birds from feeding upon the corn.

(r) They who have faid, that in a monarchy, the

 The Form of Government. \
12/

return, he fliows witK what zeal he exerts

himfelf, in all that can interefl; its glory.

M Every a£fc publiflied by the fenate, ex-

plains, in a few words, its origin and its de-

fign. We cannot conceive how it was pof-
fible in your age, that pretended fo much dif-

cernment, for magiftrates to dare, in their

furly pride, to publifti dogmatic arrets, like

the decrees of the theologians. As if the law
was not the public reafon, or it was not ne-
ceflary that the people fhould be inftru&ed,
in order to their more ready obedience. Thofe
ancient magiftrates, who called themfelveâ
the fathers of their country, mud have been
ignorant of the great art of perfuafion ; that
art which afts fo powerfully, and without la-
bour \ or rather, they muft have had no fixed
point of vie at, no determinate courfe, but
fometimes riotous and feditious, and fometimes
creeping flaves, they flattered or harrafled the

king is the depofitary of the will of the people, have af*

fer ted an abfurdity. There is, in fac>, nothing more ridi-

culous, than for intelligent beings, like men, to fay to

one or more, " .Will for us/* the people have always
faid to their monarch $
* Act for us," after you have
clearly underftood what is our will.

G 4 throne
 128 The Form of Government.

throne: by turns wrangling for trifles, and

felling the people for a bribe.

u You will readily believe that we have dif-

carded thôfe magi ftrates, accuftomed from their

youth to all that infenfibility which is necef-
fary coolly to defpofe of the property, the ho-
nour, and lives of their fellow citizens. Bold
in defence of' their meaneft privileges, care-
lefs of what concerned the public welfare, they
funk at laft into a perpetual indolence, and
even fpared others the trouble of corrupting
them. Very different are our magiftrates ;

the title of fathers of their country, with which

we honour them, they merit in the fulieft ex-
cf the term.

" The reins of government are now com-

mitted to wife and refolute hands, that pur-
fue a regular plan. The Jaws reign, and no
man is above thçm \ which was a horrid evil

in your Gothic government. The general

good of the nation is founded on the fecu-

rity of each individual. No one fears man,
but the laws ; the fovereign himfelf is fenfible

that
 The Form of Government. 129

that they hang over his head (a). His vigi-

lance renders the fenator* more attentive to
their feveral duties ; the confidence he repo-
fes in them foftens their labours, and his au-
thority gives the neceflary force and activity

(a) Every government where one man alone is above

the laws, and can violate them with impunity, muft be
iniquitious and unhappy. In vain has a man of genius
employed all his talents to make us acquiefce in the prin-

ciples of an Afiatic government : they offer too great

violence to human nature. Behold the proud veffel that

plows the ocean, there needs but an imperceptible paf-

fage to admit the water, ancf caufe her perdition. So
one man that is above the law, may caufe thofe acls of

injuftice and iniquity to enter a ftate, which, by an ine-

vitable effect, will haften its ruin. What matters it whe-
ther we perifti by one or many ? The misfortune is the
fame. What imports it whether tyranny have a hundred
arms, or one only, that extends itfelf over the whole
«mpire 5 if it fall on every individual, if it fpring out
frem at the very inftant it is cut off? Befide, it is not
defpotifm that terrifies and confounds 5 it is its propaga-
tion. The viziers, the pachas, &c. imitate their maf-
ters ; they devour others while they expect to be devour-
ed. In the government of Europe, their mocks, the fi-

multaneous re-aclion of their feveral bodies, affords mo-

ments of equilibrium, during which the people breathe 5

the limits of their refpe&ive powers, perpetually difor-

<lered, holdss the place of liberty ; and the phantom is,

at lead confolatory to thofe who cannot attain the reality*.

G 5 to
1 30 The Form cf Government.

to their decisions. Thus the fcepter, which

opprefled your kings, is light in the hands of
our monarch. He is not a viâim pompoufly
decorated, and inceflantly a facrifice to the
exigencies of the ftate ; he bears that burthen
only which is proportioned to the limited
ftrength he has received from nature.

u We have a prince that fears the Almighty,

that is pious and juft, whofe heart is devoted
to God and his country, who dreads the di-
vine vengeance, and the cenfure of pofterity y
and who regards a good confcience, and à^

fpotlefs fame, as- the highefl degree of felrci*-

ty. It is not fo much great talents, or an ex-

tenfive knowledge, that does good, as the fm^
cere defire of an upright heart that loves it,

and wifhes- to a-ccomplifli it. Frequently the

Boafted genius of a monarch, far from ad-
vancing the happinefs of a kingdom, is ex-
erted in deftroying its liberties*

u We have conciliated what feemed almoflE

incomptatible, the good of the nation with that

of individuals. They even pretended that the

general happinefs of a ftate was necefTarily dif-

tin£t
 The Form of Government. 131
tîn£t from that of fome of its members. We
have not efpoufed that barbarous policy, found-
ed either on an ignorance of juft laws, or on a
contempt of the pooreft, but mod ufeful men
in the ftate. There were cruel and deteftable

laws that fuppofed men to be wicked ; but we

are much difpofed to believe that they have only
become fo fince the inftitution of thofe- laws.
Arbitrary power has griped the human heart,
and by its irritation has rendered it inflamed and
ulcerated.

u Our monarch has every neceflary powerand

opportunity to do good, but is prevented from
doing evil. <* We reprefent the nation to him
always in a favourable light; we difplay • its--

valour, its fidelity toward its prince, and its

hatred of a foreign yoke,

** There are cenfors who have the right of

expelling from about the prince all who are in-
clined to irreligion, to licentioufnefs, to falfhood,
and to that baneful art of covering virtue with
ridicule (a). We do not admit amongft us

(a) I am much inclined to believe that (bvereigns are al-

moft always the moft honeft men in their courts. The -

foul of Narciflus was ftill more foul than that of Nero.

G 6 that
Ï32 7be Form of Government»

that clafs of men, who, under the title of nobi-

lity (which, to render it completely ridiculous,
was venal) crawled about the throne, and
would follow no other profeffion than that of
a fcldier or a courtier ; who lived in idlenefs,
fed their pride with old parchments, and dif-

played a deplorable fpedtacle of equal vanity

and mifery. Your grenadiers fhed their blood
much intrepidity as
with, as the moft noble
among them, without rating it at fo high a
price. Such a denomination, moreover, in
our republic would give offence to the other
orders of the ftate. Our citizens are all equal ;
the only diftin£lions we know are thofe which
naturally arife among men from their virtue,
their genius, and induftry (a).

f* Besides

(a) Why cannot the French fuffer a republican govern-

ment ? Who in this kingdom is ignorant of the pre-emi-
nence of the noblefTe, founded on the inftiiution itfelf, and
confirmed by the cuftom of many ages ? Yet when under
the reign of John, the third eftate rofe from their abject
condition, jthey took their feat in the afiembly of the
nation ; that haughty and barbarous noblefle beheld
it without commotion, aiïbciate With the orders of the
kingdom, though the times wereftill filled with prejudices;
of the police of the fiefs, and the profeffion of arms. The
honour
 The Form of Government. 133
« Besides all thofe ramparts, thofe barriers,
and precautions ufed to prevent the monarch
from forgetting, in time of public calamities,
what he owes to the poor, he obferves every
year a folemn faft, which continues for three

days, during which time he fuffers continual

hunger and thirft, and fleeps upon the ground.
This fevere and falutary faft imprints on his
heart the moft tender commiferation towards
the neceffitous. Our fovereign, it is true, has

no need of this penance to remind him ; but

il is a law of the ftate, a facred law, conftantly
followed and refpeâed. By the example of
our monarch, every man who has any connec-
tion withsgovernment, makes it his duty to feel

what is want; and is from thence more difpof-

ed to affift thofe who are obliged to iubmit ta

honour of the French nation, a principle ever active, and

fuperior to the wifeft inftiiutions, may therefore one day
become the foul of a republic ; efpecialîy when a tafte for
philofophy, a knowledge of political laws, and the expe-
rience of fo many evils, mail have deftroyed that levity,
that indifcretion which biafts thofe brilliant qualities that

would make the French the firft people in the univerfe^if

they would well conûder, ripen, and fupport their pro-
feels,

the
>34> Tfo Form of Governments

the imperious and cruel law of extreme tfe-

oeffity (*)."

But

(<x) In the front of a philofopherV hermitage there war

a rich and lofty mountain, favoured with the moil benign
regards of the fun. It was covered with beautiful paftures,-

with golden grain, with cedars and aromatic plants.

Birds, the moft pleating to the1
fight, and delicious to the
tafte, fanned the air in flocks with their wings, and filled<

it with their harmonious warblings. The bounding deer-

peopled the woods. Some genial lakes produced in their
filver waters the trout, the perch, and dace. Three hundred
families were fpread over this mountain, and there found '

a bleft abode, in the midft of peace and plenty, and in

the bofomof thofe virtues they conftantly praclifed : each
morn and eve they fen t their grateful thanks to heaven.
But behold the indolent and voluptuous Ofman mounts
the throne, and all thefe families are prefently ruined,
driven from their abodes, and become vagabonds upon he t
-•

earth. The beauteous mountain was feized by his vizier, a

noble robber, who feafted his dogs, his concubines, and his .

flatterers, with the plunder of the unhappy people. Of-

man one day lofing himfelf in the chace, met the philoso-
pher, whofe hut had efcaped that torrent which had fwept
all elfe before it. The pbilofopher recollected the monarch,
without his fufpecling it : he treated him with a noble
courtefy. They times.—« Alas !
talked of the prefent
fa id the fage old man, we knew what pleafure was fome
ten years fince ; but now all fuffers : extreme poverty has
drove the poor from their habitations ; wrings their fouls,

and:
 The Form of Government.
'

135

But, I faid that thefe changes muft have

been long, laborious, and difficult. What efforts-
you muft have made! —The philofopher, with
a pleafing fmile, replied, " Good is not more
difficult than evil. The human pallions are
frightful obftacles ; but when the mind is once
convinced of its. true intereft, the man becomes
juft and faithful. It feems to me that a fingle
perfon might govern the world, if the hearts of
men were difpofed to toleration and equity.
Notwithstanding the common inconfequence
of thofe of your age, it was forefeen that rea-
fon would one day make a great progrefs; rts
effetts have become vifible, and the happy

principles of a wife government have been the

firft fruits of its reformation;"

and each day fees them go drooping to the grave, opprefled

by extreme mifery."— " Pray tell me, faid the monarch;

what is that mifery ?" The philofopher fighed, remained
latent, and fet the prince in the way to his palace.

CHAP.
 { <3 6 )

CHAP. X.

The Heir to the Throne.

MORE liff of
inquifitive than

Huron (a),
was ever the
I continued to exer-
bai-

cife the patience of my companions. I have

feen the monarch on his throne, but I forgot to

afk, Gentlemen, where was the king's fon ;

whom in my time they called the dauphin.

One of the moft polite among them replied ;

V As we are convinced that it is on the edu-

cation of the great that depends the happinefs of
the people, and that virtue is learned as vice is

communicated, we watch with the greateft alTu

duity over the early years of our princes. The
heir to the throne is not at court, where fome
flatterers would dare to perfuade him that he is

fomething more than other men, and that they

are lefs than infeûs. His high deftiny is care-
fully concealed from him. When he is born, a

(a) The Huron, or the Candid Man, a romance by Vol-

taire, and one of the beft his pen has produced. The Hu-
ron confined in the Bafttle with a Janfenift, is of all things

m the world the moft happily imagined,

royal
 The Heir to the Throne. 1 37

royal mark is imprinted on his fhoulder, by

which he is afterwards known. He is placed

in the hands of thofe whole difcrete fidelity has

been as well proved as their probity. They

take a folemn oath before the Supreme Being
never to reveal to the prince that he is one day
to be king : a tremendous oath, and which they
never dare to violate.

As foon as he comes out of the hands of the

<c

women he is inured to exercife and regard is -,

had to his natural education, which fhould al-

ways precede the moral. He is cloathed like

the fon of a common peafant ; he is accuftomed
to the plaineft meats 5 and is early taught fo-
briety ; he will be the better able hereafter to
teach œconomy by his own example, and to
know that a falfe prodigality ruins a ftate, and
dishonours thofe that promote it. He travels*
fucceffively, through all the provinces ; they
explain to him the various labours of the huf-
bandman, the different manufactures, and the
productions of the feveral foils ; he fees all

things with his own eyes ; he enters the hut of

the ploughman, eats at his table, affifts in his
labours, and learns to refpe£t him. He con-
verfes
1 38 The Heir to 'the. throne.

verfes, freely with every man he meets; his

chara£ter is differed to difplay itfelf freely,

while he thinks himfelf as far diftant from the

throne as he is near to it.

u Many kings have become tyrants, not be-

caufe they had bad hearts, but becaufe they
never knew the real ftate of the common peo-
ple of their country (a). If we were to aban-
don a young prince to the flattering idea of a

certain power, perhaps even with a virtuous

mind, confidering the unhappy difpofition of
the human heart, he would at laft endeavour to

extend the limits of his authority (Z>). For ia

(a) Prejudice conftantly attends the throne, ready to
pour its errors into the ears of kings. Timorous Truth is in
doubt of obtaining a victory over them, and waits for the

fignal to approach $ but (he fpeaks fo ftrange a language,

that they turn to thofe deceitful phantoms that are matters
©f the common dialect. Kings! learn the fever e philofo-

phic language of truth ! It is in vain that you feek her, if

you underftand her not.

{b) Men have a natural difpofition to aibitrary power,
as nothing is more convenient than to be obeyed by merely

moving the tongue. Every one has heard of that fultan

who commanded, hi» attendants to amufehim wrh enter-
taining ftcries, on pain of being ftrangled. Other monarcl s
hold pretty much the fame language, when they f3y to the ;

people, Divert me, and dre with hunger,

that
 The Heir to the Throne. 139

that it is that many princes unhappily make the

royal grandeur to confift ; and confequently
their intereft is always at variance with that of
the people.

<c
When the prince has attained the age of

twenty years, or fooner, if his mind appears to

be early formed, he is conducted to the hall of

audience ; he mixes with the crowd as a com-
mon fpeftator ; all the orders of the ftate are
then prefent, and all have received their inftruc-
tions. On a fudden the king rifes, and calls

the young man three times by his name 5 the

crowds of people open ; aftonifhed, he advances
with timid fteps toward the throne, and trem-
bling mounts the fteps ; the king embraces
him, and declares him in the fight of all the
people to be his fon. " Heaven," he fays with
<c
an affe&ing and majeftic voice, Heaven has
u deftined thee to bear the burden of royalty 5
" we have laboured for twenty years to render
" thee worthy of it -, do not fruftrate the hopes
«' of this great people that you fee before you.
" My fon I expeft from you the fame zeal that
• I have (hown for this nation." What a cri-
fis ! what a crowd of ideas prefs upon his mind?
Ths
140 The Heir to the Throne.

The monarch then fhows him the tomb where

refts the preceding king ; that tomb on which
is graved in large chara&crs, ETERNITY. He
proceeds with the fame awful voice ;
(i
My fon,
" all has been done for this moment. You now
*c
ftand on the afhes of your grandfather; in
" you he is to revive ; fwear to be juft as he
Ci
was, I fhall foon defcend to fupply his place ; s

u but remember, that I {hall accufe you from

u this tomb if you abufe your power. Ah!
*? my dear fon, the eyes of the Almighty and
u of this nation are upon you ; no one thought
u can be concealed. Jf any incitements to am-
€i
bition or pride reign at this moment in your.
" heart, there is yet time to avoid their effe£te ;
" renounce the diadem, defcend from the
" throne, and mix again with the people i you
** will be greater and more refpeftable as a com-
cc
mon citizen, than as a vain and daftardly
€6 monarch. Let not the chimera of authority
(i
flatter your young heart, but the great and
4C
pleafing idea of being reaiiy ufeful to man-
" kind ; I promife -you for rccorr^enfe the
*\ love of this people that furrounds us ; of my
<4
affection, the efleem of the world, and the
" affiftance of the Monarch of the univerfe ; it

" is
 The Heir to the Throne. 141

** is lie that is king, my fon, we are only his

fc agents, that are fent upon the earth to accom-
u plifh his great defigns (a)"

" The young-prince is furprifed and affe&ed,

his vifage is covered with a modeft fliame ; he
dares not look upon that great aflembly, whofe
regards are eagerly fixed on him. His tears
begin to flow ; he weeps at the profpeft of his
extenfive duties ; but foon an heroic fpirit pof-
fefles him ; he is taught that a great man ought
to facrifice himfelf for the good of mankind ;

and that as nature has not prepared for man a

happinefs without allay, it is by that benign
power which the nation has depofited with him,
that he is enabled to do that for them which na-
ture has refufed. That noble idea penetrates,
animates, inflames him the oaths are admi-
;

(a) Gamier caufes it to befaid to Nabuchedonofer, puffed

up with his power and his victories, " Who is that God
who commands the rain, the winds and the tempefts ?
Over whom reigns he ? Over the feas, the rocks, &c." To
which he replies, " Infenfible fubjecls ! command over
I

men 5 I am the only God of this earth where we dwell.

Infenjibles fujets ! moi je commande aux hommes j

Je fuis F unique Dieu de la terre ou n$us femmes.

niftered
*4^ 27* H* ir to the Throng.

niftered to him by his father ; he calls the fa-

cred afhes of his grandfather to witnefshis fin-
cerity ; he adores the Supreme Being ; he is

crowned. The orders of the ftate falute him,

and the people with transports of joy cry out,
" O thou that are taken from amongft us,
iC
whom we have fo long and fo nearly beheld,
u may the preftiges of greatnefs never make
" thee forget who thou, art, and who we
" are [a).V.

" He cannot mount the throne till the age of

two and twenty; for it is repugnant to com-

mon fenfe, that a nation fhould be governed
by an infant king. For a like reafon the king
lays down the fcepter at the age of feventy
years, becaufe the art of governing requires an
activity of body, and a certain fenfibility, which

{a) The Greek» and Romans experienced fenfations

far more poignant than ours. A religion altogether fen-
fible; thofe frequent occurrences that concerned the
grand intereft of the republic; a ftate dignity that was
aweful without being faftuous ; the acclamations of the

people; the aflemblies of the nation, and the public

harangues ; what an inexhaftible fource of pleafures !

When compared with thofe people, we Teem but to lan-

gui fh, or fcarce to exift.

7 unlucky
 The Heir to the Throne: 143

unlucky age extinguifhes in the human mind(d).

Befide, we are fearful leaft habit fhould pro-
duce in his mind that concentered ambition
they call avarice, which is the laft and mod
rueful paflion that man has to encounter (b).

The inheritance is in the line direft, and the

feptuagenary monarch ftill ferves the ftate by
his councils, or by the example of his paft
virtues. The time between the public acknow-
ledgement of the prince, and the day of his
majority, is ftill fubjeâ: to new proofs. They
conftantly talk to him by ftrong and fenfi'ble
images. If they would prove, that kings are
not otherwife formed than common men ; that
they have not a hair more on their heads ;

that they are equally weak at their entrance

(a) How pleating is it when years have whitened our

heads, to be able to retire, and reflect on thofe actions
of humanity and beneficence that we have performed
in the courfe of our days ! Of all thatwe now are, there
will then nought remain but the fenfation of having been
virtuous, or the marne and torment of vice.

(b) Prodigality is equally to be feared. A young prince

will fometimes refufe, becaufe he has that in him which
may atone for refufal ; but the old man conftantly con-
fents, becaufe he has nothing to fupply the vacuity of
the want of liberality,

into
j 44 %l\$
H et r t0 ti)e
.
Throne*

into this world; equal in infirmities, and equal

in the fight of God, and that the fuffrage of

the people is the fole bafis of their grandeur *

9

they introduce, by way of diverfion, a young

porter of his fize and age, and they wreftle
together; though the king's fon be vigorous,
he is commonly overcome ; the other conti-
nues the attack, till the prince is forced to
own the defeat. They raife him up, and fay
to him, C4
You fee that no man by the law of
nature ought to fubmit to another, that no man
is born a Have ; that monarchs are born men,
and not kings ; in a word, that the human'race
were not created for the pleafure of fome parti-
cular families. That even the Almighty, accor-
ding to the natural law, would not govern
by force, but over the free-will. To endea-
vour therefore to make men flaves, is to a£l

with temerity toward the fupreme Being, and

to exercife tyranny over the race of mankind."
The young man who had conquered, then
bows before him, and fays, " I may be ftronger
" than you,-but there is neither right nor glo-
«c
ry in that ; true ftrength is equity, and true
cc render you ho-
glory greatnefs of mind. I
<c
mage as my fovereign, and the depofitary of
" the
 The Heir to the Throne. 143
Xi the force of every individual ; when any"one
" would tyrannize over me, it is to you I mufl:
M fly for fuccour ; you will then hear and fave
"me from the unjuft and powerful." • . . .

u If the young prince commits any remarka-

ble fault or imprudence, the next day he fees it in
the public papers (a)± he is fometimes aftonifli-

ed and offended. They anfwer him cooly,

* It is a faithful and vigilant tribunal, that
ci
records each day the allions of princes. Pof-
" terity will know and judge all that you have
(*
faid and done ; it depends on yourfelf to
" make them fpeak honourably of you." If the
young prince reflect, and acknowledge his fault,
then the papers of the next day declare that
token of a happy character, and give to the
noble a£tion all the eulogy it deferves (a).
Bur

{a) I could wifh that a prince had fometimes the curî-

cfity to know what the people think of him j he would
learn enough in a quarter of an hour to afford him matter
of reflection for the reft of his life.

(£) You fay, " I fear not the fword of man. I am crave. 1 *
But you deceive yourfelf. To be truly brave you muft
Vol. II, H fear
J46 The Heir to the throne.

41
But what they moft ftrongly recommend,
and imprcfs on him by multiplied images, is

a horror of that vain pageantry, which has

deftroyed fo many liâtes, and dishonoured fo

many fovereigns (a). Thofe gilded palaces,

fay they, are like the decorations of a theatre,

where paper appears to be maffy gold. The
child imagines that it beholds a real palace.
Be not a child. Pomp and oflentation are
abufes, introduced by pride and policy. They
difplay that parade to infpire the greater re-

fpe£t and fear. By that means the fubjeft

contraûs a fervile difpofition, and becomes aC-

cuftomed to the yoke. But is a king ever de-

bafed by putting himfelf on a level with his

fubjeûs? What are thofe inceflant empty (hews,
in compariforrwith that open and affable man-
ner that attradls the arTe&ions of all the peo-

ple to his perfon ? The wants of a monarch

fear neither their tongues nor their pens. But in this

cafe, the greatefl kings of the earth have ever been the

greatefl poltroons. The Gazette of Amfterdam prevented

Louis XIV. from fleeping

{a) That luxury, which is the caufe of the deftrucVion

of Aates, and that tramples under foot every virtue, takes
its fcurce from corrupted hearts, and which all others
~opy af:er#

are
 The Heir to the Throne: 147

are not lefs than thofe of the meaneft of his

fubjefts. There is no difference between his
ftomach and that of a clown, fays J. J. Rouf-
feau. If he would tafte the pureft of all plea-

fures, let him tafte that of being beloved, and

let him render himfelf worthy of it (a).

" To conclude : their paffes no day on which

he is not reminded of the exiftence of a fu-
preme Being, whofe eye conftantly furveys
this world of the duty that he owes him, of
;

a reverence for his providence, and a confix

dence in his infinite wifdom. The mod hor-
rid of all beings is without doubt an atheifti-
cal king : I had far rather be in a veflel tofled

by the tempeft, and dire&ed by a drunken

(a) Duke *** of Wirtemberg, the fiift of that name,

was dining with a fovereign prince, his neighbour, and

fome other petty potentates, each of whcm was talking of
his forces and power. After hearing all their pretentions,
•the Duke faid, " I do not envy any one of you that power
which God has given you, but there is one thing of which
I can boaft, which is, that in my little ftste I can walk at
-all hours alone, and in fecurity. t ramble among the
woods, I lay me down to fleep under fome tree, quite
unconcerned, for I fear neither the fword of a robbtr,
nor of an injured fubjeft.

H 2 pilot,
 14$ The Heir to the Throne.

pilot ; I (hould at leaft have a chance to %t

faved.

" It is not till the age of twenty- two that he

is permitted to marry. He takes a native of
our country to his throne. He does not
fend in queft of a foreign wife, who frequent*
ly brings from her country a difpofition, which
being widely different from the manners of
our nation, baftardizes the blood of France*
and caufes us to be governed by Spaniards or
Italians, rather than by the defcendants of our
brave anceftors. Our king does not offer that
infult to a whole nation, to imagine that
beauty and virtue are to be found in a fo-
reign foil only. She who, in the courfe of his

jôurnies, has touched his heart, and has loved

him without a diadem, mounts the throne
with her lover, and becomes dear and refpeft-
ab!e to the nation, as well from her own vir-

tues, as for having been able to pleafe a hero.

Befide the advantage of infpiring all the
young women with a love of wifdom and vir-
tue, by fetting before them a recompence
worthy of their efforts, we hereby avoid all

thofe family wars, that are absolutely foreign

to
 The Heir to the Thrme. 1*49

tb the intereft of the ftate, and that have fo

often defolated Europe {a).

" On the day of his marriage,inQead of fool-

iihly fquandering money in pompous and tire-

fome feafts, in fenfelefs and gaudy fhews, in

fire- works, and other expences equally extra-

vagant and difguftful, the prince erects fome

public monument, as a bridge, an aqueduû,
a public road, a canal, or a theatre. This
monument bears his name. We remember
his benefaction, while thofe irrational profu-
fions are forgot, or only remembered by the
horrid accidents they occasioned {b)\ The peo-
ple,

(a) Moft of our wars have proceeded, as every one

knows, from thofe alliances that are pretended co be poli-

tical. If indeed Europe and Africa could efpoufe Afia

and America, well and good,

(£) Shall I here recall the horrible night of the 30th

March, 1770 ? It will eternally accufe our police, that is

favourable to the rich alone, and that protects the bar*

barous luxury of carriages *. If was by them that hor-
rid difafter was occafioned. But if this dreadful accident
has produced no Uriel ordinance by which the citizens

* Carriages are far more dangerous in Paris than London,

as they drive much fafier, and there is no feparati path for

foot pajjengers,
H 3 may
150 The Heir to the Throne.

pie, fatisfied with the generofity of their prince,

are under no temptation to whifper to each
other that ancient fable, in which the poor frog
laments ^n his marfh the fight of the nuptials of
the fun(rf)."

may walk the ftreets without danger, what are we to expe&

of other evils that are more deeply rooted, and mo e dim>
cult to remedy ? Near eight hundred perfons periihed by
being crowded together, and fix weeks after h wa6 not
mentioned.

(a) I met, in a piece of poetry, with thefe vei fes :

Ces rois enorgueillis de leur grandeur fupréme^

Ce font desmtndians que couvre un diadème.

" Thefe puffed up monarch», with their mighty grandeur,

are nothing moie than beggars covered with a crown."
In faO, they are craving inceflantly : it is the people that

pay for the robes of the pompous bride 5 for the feafts, the

fire works, the embroidery of the nuptial bed, &c. and

when the royal babe is born, each one of its cries is met**
mcrphofed into a new tax.

CHAP.
 ( m )

CHAP. XL
THE JV O MEN.

M
know
Y affable

that our
and

women
polite inftru&or

bave no other portion

continued

than their virtue and their charms ; they are,

therefore, interefted in improving their moral
faculties. By this ftroke of legiflation we have
deftroyed the hydra, Coquettry, fo fruitful of
contention, of vices and ridicule." — How !

no portion? the women bring nothing with

them ? and who will marry them ? — " Women
have no portion, becaufe they are by nature de-
pendant on that fex from whom they derjve their
ftrength and glory ; and that nothing may with-
hold them from that legitimate empire, which
is conftantly lefs terrible than the yoke
they give themfelves in their fatal liberty.

Befides, the confequencé is the fame ; a man

who marries a wife without any fortune, is

enabled to difpofe of his daughters without

emptying his purfe. We never fee a girl proud
of her fortune, who feems to do her hufband a
H 4 favour
*52 T/?â Women.

favour by accepting him (*). Every man is

bound to provide for his wife ; and {he, de-

pending entirely on her hulband, is the better
difpofed to fidelity and obedience. The law be-
ing univerfal, no one can complain. The wo-
men have no other diftinûion than what is re-

flected on them by their hufbands. Confiant-

ly fubmiflive to the duties that their fex requires,
their honour is to obferve the ftrift laws that
refults from them, by which alone th^y can fe-

cure their happinefs»

tc
Every citizen that has not defamed him»
felf, though he (hould be of the lowed clafs>

may claim a daughter of the higheft, provided

flie confent, and there be no feduftion nor dis-
proportion of age. Every one refumes the
primitive equality of nature In forming a con-
tract fo pure, fo free, and fo necefiary to our
happinefs, as is that of matrimony. There

(a) An Athenian lady afked a Lacedemonian, what

portion (he brought her hufband ? " Chaftity," (he
replied. J

It is no uncommon thing for a modern lady to bring her huf-

J
Band this portion, though /he may chance to difyeje of i: after-
wards for her own private emolument,
ends
 The Women. 153

ends the bounds of paternal power (a), and

that of civil authority. Our marriages are
fortunate, becaufe intereft, which corrupts

all things, does not foil their amiable bands.

You cannot eafily imagine how many vices

and foibles* fuch as flander, jealoufy, idle-

nefs, the pride of excelling a rival, crimes
of every kind, have been banifhed by this fim-

ple law {b). Women, inftead of exercifing

(a) How indecent, how monftrous is it, to fee a father

appeal to twenty tribunals, animated by a barbarous pride

that will not let him give his daughter to a man, becaufe
fie had fecretly defined her for another. He dares, in this
cafe, to cite civil ordinances, while he forgets the moft fa-
ered laws of nature, which forbids him to opprefs an un-
fortunate daughter, over whom he has no legitimate au-
thority, but what may conduce to her happinefs. It is a
remarkable and melancholy circumftance, that in this age
the number of bad parents has exceeded that of unnatural
children. Where is the fource of this evil ? Alas in ow !

laws.

(6) Nature has deftined women to domeftic employ-

ments, and to cares every where of the fame kind. They
have much lefs variety in their characters than have men 5
aîmoft all women referable each other 5 they have but one
end, and which they manifeftîn every country by fimilar
cge&s,

H 5. their
154- The tVomen.

their vanity, have cultivated their minds ; and

in lieu of riches, have fumifhed themfelves with
gentlenefs, modefty, and patience. Mufic and
dancing no longer form their principal accom-
plifhments ; they have vouchfafed to learn the
arts of oeconomy, of pleafing their hufbands*
and educating their children. That extreme in-
equality of rank and fortune, the moft deftruc-
tive vice in every political fociety, is here no
longer feen ; the meaneft citizen has no reafon
to blufh at his condition ; he affociates with the

higheft, who difdains not his connexion. The

law has equalled mankind to the greateft de-

gree in its power ; inftead of creating thofe in-

jurious diftinftions, that produce nothing but
pride on one fide, and hatred on the other, it

has been follicitous to deftroy all thofe obftacles

that might divide the children of the fame

mother.

" Our wives are, what were thofe of the an-

cient Gauls, fincere and amiable companions,

whom we refpe£t and confult on all occafions.
They do not affeâ that miferable jargon

fo much in vogue among ycu, and which

they
 The Women. 155

they called wit {a). They do not bufy themfelves

with afligning the rank due to the feveral forts
of genius \ they are content with good fenfe, a
qualification far preferable to thofe artificial

flafhes that are the wretched amufements of

idlenefs. Love, the fruitful fourceof the moil
excellent virtues, prefides over, and guards the
intereft of our country. The more happinefs
we enjoy in her bofom, the more dear fhe be-
comes. Judge then what is our attachment to
her. The women, doubtlefs, make a part of

this felicity. Inftead of thofe empty and fafti-

dious pleafures, which they purfued from vanity,

they now enjoy all our tendernefs and efteem,
and find a felicity more folid and more pure in
the pofleffion of our hearts, than in thofe tranf-
îent pleafures, whofe very purfuit was attended
with anxiety. Charged with the care of fuper-
intending the firft years of our childien, they

[a) A woman mews very little difcretion, who is de-

(irous of (hewing lier wit upon every occafion. She ou?ht,
on the contrary, to ufe all her art to conceal it. In fa&,
what is it we men look after ? Innocence, candour, fim-
pîicity, truth, an intereftlng timidity. A woman that
difplaysher wit feems to fay to you, «« Sir, addrefsyour-
f#lf tome; I am a woman of wit ; I (hall be more p«rfi-
éious, perveife, and artful t^an another,"
H 6 have
j 56 The Women.

have no other preceptors ; for being more {aga-

cions and vigilant than they were in your days,
they are more fenfible of the delicious plcafure
of being mothers in the full extent of the term."

But, I faid, notwithftanding all your im-

provements, man is ftill man, liable to weak-
nefs, humour, and difguft. If Difcord, witb
her torch, Ihould take the place of Hymen,
what do you then ? Are divorces permitted [a) ?'

(a) Nicholas L erecting himfelf into the reformer of the

laws divine, natural* and civil, abrogated divorces in the

ninth century. They were then in ufe among all the peo-

ple of the earth, authorifed by the Jews and the Chriftians.

How flrange is the lot of human kind ! One man alone
lias deprived them of a precious liberty; of a civil contract
has made a facred indiflcluble chain, and for ever foment-
ed domeftic variance* Many paft ages have given to that,

foolilhand whimfical law an inviolable fandtion ; and thofe

inteftine wars that diftracT: the domeftic oeconomy and'
promote the depopulation of ftates, are the fruits of the
caprice of a pontif. It is evident, that were divorces per-
mitted, marriages would be more happy •• We mould
be

* There are no divorces permitted in France, not even in cafe

êfthe moft flagrant adultery, " They" fays the lordly prieft,
44 whom God," that is, J and my church, " has put together
if
no man can fut afunder" The only refource f*r the hujhandii-

to

a
 <Be Women. *57

—w Doubtlefs, when they are founded on le-

gitimate reafons as when both parties, for

-, ex-
ample, follicit a divorce at the fame time ; ai*

incompatability of humours is fufficient to dif-

folve the band. People marry only to be happy»

be lefs fearful of forming a contrat, when we knew that

it could not bind us to mifery. The wife would be more
a-ttentive and fubmiffive. The durability of the band de-
pending on the will of the parties bound, would become
more ftrong. Population, moreover, being far below its true,

ftandard, it is to the indiffblubility of marriages that we

eught to attribute the fecret caufe of that evil which under-
mines the catholic monarchies, If it mould be tolerated
for any considerable time longer* and celibacy mould con-
tinue to prevail among them, (the fruit of a. wretched ad-
miniflration) together with the ecclefiaftic celibacy, which
feems to be of right divine, they will have none butener-
vated troops to oppofe the numerous, healthful, androbuft
armies of thofe people who permit divorces» The fewer
firtgle people there are in a ftate, the more chafte, happy,,

and fruitful man iages will be. The diminution of the hu-
man race neceflarily tends to the total ruin of an empire

to petition the king y and if, by great chance, he have intereffuf*

ficient, the wife is fent to a convent ; where fie will pafs her-

time disagreeably enough, iffie be not able to bribe the Cerberus

at the door y which, they fay , is not urfrcqucnfly done. I rumem»
ber a lady of the firjî quality, who was fent to amonajlery, and
early the next morning, the good abbejs came to her bed-fide, and
gave ber a lor.g leclure on tkefubjeel of incontinence."— The gallant'
all the iv hile layfnug under the bed-cloathu

it
 158 The Women.

It is a contract of which peace and mutual re-

gard fhould be the end. We are not fo fenfelefs
as to force two people to live together, whofe
hearts are eftranged from each other, and there-
by to renew the punifhment of the cruel Me-
zentius, who faftened a living body to a loath-
fome carcafe. A divorce is the only eligible re-

medy, as it at leaft renders to fociety two per-

fons that are loft by their conneflion with each
other. But (would you believe it ?) the greater

the facility is, the more averfe they are to profit

by it, as there is a fort of difhonour in not be- ;

ing able to bear together the troubles of a trans-

ient life. Our women, virtuous by principle,
are delighted with domeftic pleafures. We are
always happy when our duty coincides with our
defires ; nothing is then difficult, all things
bear a pleafing afpe£t."

O how unfortunate I am to be fo old ! I ex-

claimed ; would immediately marry one of

I

thefe amiable women. Ours were fo haughty

and infolent, and, for the mod part, fo faith-

lefs, fo badly educated, that marriage was re-

garded as an egregious folly. Coquetry, with

an
 The Women. 159

an immoderate love of pleafure, and an abfolute

unconcern for every thing but themfelves, com-
pofed the character of a woman of my time.
They derided all fort of fenfibility, and had
fcarce any humanity but toward their gallants.

Every tafte but that of luxury was in a man-

ner a ftranger to their minds. I fpeaknot of
modefty, for that was efteemed ridiculous.

Therefore, a prudent man being to choofe of

two evils, preferred celibacy as the leaft. The
difficulty of bringing a child up, was an argu-
ment not lefs ftrong. Men avoided giving
children to a ftate that would load them with
diflrefs. So the generous elephant, once made
captive, refufes to indulge himfelf in the moft
pleating inftin£l, that he may not entail flavery
on his pofterity. The hufband himfelf, in the
midft of his anxiety, watched an opportunity of
getting rid of a child, as we endeavour to drive

away a voracious animal. Human beings fled

from each other, as their union neceflarily re-
doubled their mifery ; the wretched virgins, fix-
ed to the foil where they were born, languished
like flowers, that, fcorched by the fun turn
pale, and drop from their ftalks ; the greater
part carried with them, even to the grave, the

1 defire
 t6o The Women..

defire of being wives ; difguft and anxiety em-

bittered every moment of their days ; and they/
could not procure any atonement for that pri-
vation, but by the rifle of of their honour, and?
the lofs of therr health. In fhort, the number-
of fingle perfons was become frightfully great;:

and, to complete the mifery, reafon feemed to •

juftify that outrage to humanity (a). But pro-

ceed, that you may comfort me by defcribing a<

pleafing piâure of your manners ? How was>

you able to drive away that plague, which»
threatenedlo devour the human race.?

My guide raifed his voice, and* with an.

animated dignity, faid, lifting his eyes to hea-
ven, " O God, if man is unhappy, it is by,

(a) A tafte for celebacy will begin to prevail when a

government is become as bad as it polTibly can be. The?-
citizen detached from the moft pleafing connection, will in-

fsnfibly detach himfelf from the love of life itfelf } fuicide.

will be frequent ; the^art of living will become fo painful,

that exiftence itfélf will be a burden. Men can bear all the
phyfical evils united 5 but the political e^ils are a hundred *

times more horrible, becaufe they are not necefifary, Man

curfes that fociciy which ought to alleyiate his pains and
break his fetters. They reckoned at Paris, in the year

1769, one hundred and forty-feven perfons who put an

end to their own live»,
his*
 The Women. lût

Ms own fault ; it is becaufc he fhuns focietyy

and confines all his cares to himfelf. Our in*-

duftry is confumed on futile objefts ; and thofe

that would enrich us we ncgkdt. By form-
ing man for fociety^ Providence has placed

by our misfortunes thofe aids that are deilined

to relieve them. What ftronger obligation is

there than mutually to affift each other? Is it

not the general defire of mankind? Why then

does he fo frequently miftake his intereft?

€i
I repeat it j our women are wives and
mothers; and from> thofe two virtues all others
are derived. They would difhonour tfcemfelves,
were they to daub their faces with paint, or
fluff their heads with fnufF, or debauch their
ftomach with drams ; if they were to fit up all

night, or fing licentious fonga, or pra&ife the

lead indecency with men*. They have more
certain attractions ; gentlenefs, modefty, the
native graces, and that noble decency, which
are their inheritance, and their true glory {a).

* They
(*) While the women govern in France, while all things
afe made to conform to their tarte, while they judge of the
genius and merit of men, the French will never have that
ûability*
\bi The Women.

cc
They fuckle their own children without
thinking it a labour ; and as it is done without
affectation, their milk is pure and plentiful.
The body of the child is early invigorated ; he
is taught to fwim, to hurl, and to carry bur-
dens. The bodily education appears to us of
importance ; we form his conftitution before
we excrcife his mind, which, fhould not be that
of a parrot, but that of a man,

" His mother watches over the morning of

his rifing thoughts ; (he refle&s on the method
to be purfued in forming his mind to virtue ;

how (he (hall turn his fenfibility into humanity,

his pride into greatnefs of foul, and his curio-

fity into a knowledge of fublime truths. She

meditates on thofe engaging fables flie mail ufe,
not to conceal the truth, but to render it more
amiable ; that its luftre may not dazzle the
weaknefs of his inexperienced mind ; (he care-
fully weighs all her words and a£lions, that no
one of them may make a bad imprefliorf on his

heart. Thus (he preferves him from that breath

inability, that fage oeconomy, that gravity, nor that ner-

vous character which becomes free men.

of
 The Women. 1
63

tof vice, by which the flower of innocence is fo

iuddenly withered.

" Education differs among us according

to the ftation the child is hereafter to hold in
focietyj for though we are delivered from the
yoke of pedantry, it would be (till ridiculous to
teach him what he muft hereafter forget. Each
art is unfathomable, and to excell in it requires
our whole attention. The mind of man, not-
withftanding all thofe aids recently discovered,
miracles apart, is not able to embrace more
than one objed ; it is fuffkient for him to at-

tach himfelf ftrongly to that, without attempt-

ing excurfions that cannot but diftradt him. It

was the ridicule of your age to endeavour to be

univerfal ; we regard it as a madnefs.

a In a more advanced age, when his mind

is able to diftinguifh thofe connexions by which
he is united to fociety, then, inftead of that
futile knowledge with which the minds of
youth are indifcriminately loaded, his mother,
with that natural and tender eloquence peculiar
to women, teaches him what are manners, de-
cency,
1Ô+ The Women,

eency, virtue. She makes choice of tliat feafottV-

when nature, drefled in all her fplendor, fpèaks

to the moft infenfible heart, when the genial
breath of fpring, has decorated the groves, the
fields,, and forefts, with all their ornaments.
" My fon>" fhefays,preffing him to her mater-
nal bofom (û), " beholdthefe verdant fields» thefe
" trees adorned with fprcading branches-, it is

" not long fince, that, deprived of all their otna-

" ments, they w ëre congealed by that cold
T

" which pierees the inward parts of the earth ;

u but there is a gracious Being, who is our

c<
common. Parent, and who never abandons
u his children j he dwells in heaven, and from
u thence beholds, with the kindnefs of a father,
c*
all his creatures. At* the moment that h*
" fmiles, the fun darts its rays, the trees flôa-
<c
rifh, the earth is crowned with flowers, and
ct
with herbs for the nourifhment of thofe
iC beafts whofe milk w e drink. r
And why do
u we fo love the Lord ? Hear, O my child V

(a) Cebes rcprefents Impofture a« iltting at the gate

that leads to life, and obliging all who prefent themfelves

to drink of the cup of &rror. That cup is fuperftitition,

Happy are they who on)/ tafte it, and then throw the
velTel away».
a fa
 The Women. .165

*' it is becaufe he is powerful and good; all that

*< you fee is the work of his hands, and all this

•*'
is nothing to what is concealed from you.
" Eternity, for which every immortal foul was
c<
created, will afford thee an endlefsproceiTion
c
t of joy and wonder. His power and goodnefs
i6
know no bounds ; he loves us, becaufe we
ili
are his children ; from day to day he will
4< (how us greater kindnefs, if we are virtuous,
" that is, if we obey his laws.- Oi my fon,
44
how can we but adore and blefs his name V*
At thefe words, the mother and the child fall

proftrate, and their united prayers afcend toge-

ther to the throne of the Almighty.

" It is thus that fhe poffefles him with the

idea of a God, that fhe nourifhes his foul with

•the milk of truth, and that (he fays to herfelf,

;M I will fulfil the will of the Creator, who has
cl
committed him to my care. I will be fevere
** to thofe baneful paffions that may injure his
u happinefs ; tdthetendernefs of a mother I will
«' unite the unwearied vigilance of a friend."

11 You have feen at what age he is initiated

-to the communion of the two infinites. Such
is
1 66 The Women.

is our education ; it is, as you fee, altogether

fentimental ; we deteft that jeering wit, which

was the mod terrible fcourge of your age ; it

dried up, it burned all it touched ; its buffoon-

eries were the fource of all your vices. But,
if a frivolous difpofition be fo dangerous, what
is reafon itfelf without fentiment ? A meagre
frame, without colour, without grace, and
almoft without life. What are new, and even
profound ideas, if they have nothing animating
and affe&ing ? What need have I of a cold

truth that chills my blood ? It lofes its force

and its effeft. It is in the heart that truth dif-

plays its charms and its power. We cherifh

that eloquence which abounds in lively and
ftriking pictures it is that gives wings of fire
;

to our thought ; it fees and ftrikes the objeâ ;

it becomes attached to it, becaufe the pleafure

of being arTeûed is joined to that of being en-
lightened (a).

"Our
(a) We reckon more on exterior manners, that is,

upon cuftom, than on any thing elfe, fer which reafon it

is that we neglecl education. The ancients treated each

fnbjecl: in a manner altogether fentimental, and threw on
the fciences I know net what allurement, the fecret of
which U loft to us. The genius of the moderns is con-
ftantly
 The Women. 167

H Our philofophy, therefore, is not fevere ;

and why (hould it be fo ? Why not crown it

with flowers ? Are difguftful or mournful

ideas more honourable to virtue than thofe that

are.pleafing and falutary ? We think, that plea-

fure, proceeding from a beneficent hand, is

not fent upon earth to make us fhun its ap-

proach. Pleafure is not a monder*, it is, as
Young fays, virtue under a gayer title. Far
from endeavouring to deftroy thepaflions, the

invifible movers of our being, we regard them

as precious gifts that we fhould carefully oeco-
nomife. Happy is the man endowed with
ftrong paffions ; they form his glory, his gran-
deur, and his opulence. A wife man among
us cultivates his rnind, difcards his prejudices,
and acquires ufefui and agreeable fciences. All
the arts that can extend his judgment and ren-

ftantly defective for want of fentiment. The moft happy

talents are become calJous under the ferule of pedantry.
Is there in the world a more ridiculous institution than
that of our colleges,when we compare their dry and Lftlefs
maxims with the public education the Greeks gave their
youth, ornamenting wifdom with all thofe attractions
which charm that tender age? Our preceptors appear
like favage matters $ it is no wonder, therefore, that their
difciples ate thefirft to avoid and fly from them.

der
tS8 The Women.

tier it more difcerning, are exercifed and Im-

proved by his mind ; that done, he attends to
the voice of .nature only, fubje£t to the law of
reafon, and reafon directs him to happi-

nefs (a).

(a) The warmth of the paflions is not the caufe of our

irregularities 5 the furious, ungovernable courfer, that runs
away with the bad rider, that throws and tramples him
under foot, is obedient to the bridle under the direction of
a fkillful matter.; and gains the prize in a glorious couife.

The weaknefs of paflions difcovers a poverty of nature.

What, in facl, is that heavy, filent citizen, whofe inri-

pid foul is void of all fenfibility ; who is peaceful, becaufe

he is incapable of action 5 who vegetates, and fuffers hirn-

felf to beeafily led by the magiftrate, becaufe he has no

defires ? Is he a man, or a ttatue ? Place by him a ma»
full of lively fentiments, who rides upon the impe-
tuofity of his parlions. He tears off the veil from the fci-

ences ; he will commit faults, and he will difplay genius.

An enemy to repofe, and thirtting after knowledge, he will
draw from the commotions of the world a luminous and
fublime fpirit that will enlighten his country ; he will
afford, perhaps, occafion for cenfure ; but he will have
exerted aH the energy of his foul 5 the fpots in his charac-

ter will difappear, becaufe he will be greatly ufeful to

mankind.

CHAP.
 The Taxes. 169

CHAP. XII.

THE TAXES (*)•

TELL me, I befeech you, how are your

public taxes levied ? for let the legifla-
ture be as perfe£t as it may, -taxes, I think, muft
; lways
{a) My friends hear this apologue. Toward the begin-
ning of the world there was a vaft foreft of citron-trees,

that bore the moft beautiful, large, and pleafant fruit. The
branches bent under their burthens, and the air far round
was embalmed with their fragrant odour. The impetuous
winds chanced to blow down feveral citrons, and to break
fome of the branches : certain travellers pafling that way,
quenched their thirft with the juice of the fruit, and caft

away the rind. This accident induced the race of citron*

trees to choofe guardians, who were to drive away paiTen-
gers, and to inclofe the foreft with high walls, to oppofe*
the fury of the winds. Thefe guardians appeared at firft
faithful and difinterefted, but they foon found that fuch
bard labour produced a violent thirft ; they therefore made
this propofuion to the citrons: "Gentlemen, we are
ready to perifh by thirft in labouring for you j
permit us
to make a fmall incifion in each of you, that we may have
a drop of liquor to refrem our parched throats ;
you will
not be poorer, and we and our children (hall thereby ac-
quire frefli ftrength for your fervice.

Voi. II. i The

ï7'o The Taxes.

always be paid. As a full anfwer, the worthy

man my condu£tor took m« by the hand, and
led me to a fpacious place, formed by the ter-

mination of four flreets. I obferved a (Iron g

cheft that was twelve feet high; it was fup-
ported on four wheels ; there was a fmall open-
ing at top, which was fecured from the rain by
a kind of awning ; on this cheft was wrote, 7W-
bute due to the king reprefentlng the Jlate. Hard
by was another cheft, of a fmaller fize, with

The credulous citrons thought this requeft not unrea-

fonable, and fubmitted to the imperceptible contribution.
But what was the confequence ? When the incifion was
once made, the hands of mefiieurs, the guardians, prefifed

them every day more clofely. They at laft found that

was neceflary in all their
citron juice food ; they obferved
too that the clofer they preiTed the fruit, the more juice ic

yielded. The citrons feeing themfelves thus profufely

bled, thought to have reduced their contribution to the

primitive ftipulation 5 but the guardians, grown more

flrong, difregarding all their complaint, put them in the
prefs ; and when nothing elfe remained, they forced a
juice from the rinds, by the aid of terrible machines.
They at laft bathed themfelves in the juice of citrons. The
beautiful foreft was foon defpoiled 5 the race of citrons be-

came extincl j and their tyrants, habituated to that re-

frefhing liquor, by their prodigality had totally deprived

themfelves of it. They all fell fick, and died of the putrid

fever, Amen, fo be it,

thefe
 The Taxes. 171

thefe words ; Free gifts. I faw feveral people

with eafy, ch earful, contented looks, throw
fealeJ packets into the cheft, as in our days
they threw letters into the pQfl-office. I was

fo aftoniflied at this eafy maimer of paying

taxes, that I made a thoufand ridiculous inqui-
ries ; they therefore regarded me as a poor old
man that was come from a far diftant country;
yet their indulgent arlability would never iuf-

fer me to wait for a reply. I confefs that it is

only in a dream a man can expect to meet with

people fo completely complaifant. O, what a
loyal nation !

"That large coffer you fee, they faid,is our

receiver-general of the finances. It is there
that every citizen depofits his contribution for

the fupport of the ftate. We are there obliged

to depofit the fiftieth part of our annual income.
He that has no property, or what is only juft
fufficient for his maintenance, is exempt ; (a)

for

(a) Hear what the labourer, the inhabitant of the coun-

try, in ftiort, the people, fhould fay to their fovereigns.
" We have raifed you over us, we have engaged our lives
and properties to fupport the fplendor of your throne, and
I z the
1J2 The Taxei.

for why fliould we take bread from him whofc

daily labour is but fufficient for his main-
tenance ?

thefecuiity cf your perfon. You have promifed, in re-

turn, to procure us abundance, and to protect us froni

alarms. Who would have believed that, under your go-
vernment, joy fliould have fled from us, and that out
feafls mould be turned into mourning 5 that fear and ter-
ror (hould have fucceeded to a pleafing confidence! Fori
merly our verdant fields fmiled upon us, and promifed to
repay our labours. Now the fweat of our brows prcdu*
ces fruit for Grangers. Our villages, that once we were
pleafed with improving, now fall into ruins : our oJd men
and children know not where to lay their heads. Our
complaints are loft in the air, and each day a more cruel
poverty fucceeds to that we yefterday deplored. The ap-
pearance of humanity is fcarce left us, and the animals
that crop the grafs are far lefs miferabie.

The moft heavy ftrokes have fell upon our heads. We

are defpifed by the man in power, who will not alow us
to have any fenfation of honour 5 he comes to rnoieft our
huts, and to feduce the innocence of our daughters : he
fnatchcs them from us, and they become a prey to brutal
luft. In vain do we implore the aid of jufticej juftice
turns from us, it is deaf to our cries, and only ready to
afiift them that opprefs us»

The parade of magnificence infults our mifery, and

renders it ftill more infupportable. They drink our blood,
and forbid us to complain. The hardened wretch, fur-
rounded by aninfolent luxury, prides himfelf on the works
that
 The Taxes. 173

tcnance ? In the other coffer are the voluntary

offerings, intended for ufeful defigns, for the
execution

that our hands have ere&ed. While he thirfts for gold,

©ur ir.durtry is forgot j he regards us as (laves, becaufe
we are not riotous nor revengeful.

Thofe inceffant wants that furroMnd u$ have corrupted

the purity of our manners : perfidy and rapine have crept

in amongft us j for the necefiities of life commonly over-

come virtue. But who has given us examples of rapine?
Who has extinguimed in our hearts that fource of can-
dour which made us dear to each other ? Who has caufed
our mifery, the mother of our vices ? Many of our inha-
bitants have refufed to give exigence to children that mud
be a prey to famine in the cradle. Others/ in their dcf*
pair, have blafphemed againft Providence, Who are the

real authors of all our crimes ?

May our complaints pierce through that vapour by

which thrones are furrounded ! May kings roufe from
their lethargy, and remember that they might have been
born in our Ration, and that their children may one day
defcend to it Î Attached to our country, or rather forming
the moft eflential part of it, we do not wifh to be exempt
from contributing to its fupport. All we wifh is a man
of equity, who will eftimate the degree of our force, and
notcrufhusby a burden, which, if proportioned to our
ftrength, we mould bear with pleafure. Then tranquil
and rich in cur ceconomy, contented with our lot, we
ihould behold the grandeur of others without repining at
©ur humble dation,
I 3 More
j 74 The Taxes.

execution of fuch projefts as have been approv-

ed by the public. This fometimes is richer

than the other ; for we levé liberality in our

gifts, and no other motive is neceflary to excite
it than equity and a love for the ftate. Whenever
our king fends forth an ufeful edict, that me-
rits the public approbation, we run in crowds
to the cheft with our marks of acknowledgment;
he has but to propofe, and we furnifli him with
the means of accomplifning every important
projeft. There is a fimilar trunk in every quar-
ter of the city, and in every city in the provin-
ces -, which receives the contributions of the
More than the moiety of our days is aheady paft. Our
hearts are more than half delivered of their gtief : we have
buta little time to Jive. Our prayers are more for our
country than for ourfelves. It is we that fupport it : but if

opprefilon mall continually increafe, we muft fir;k ; our

country will be overthrown, and by iis fall it will ctufli

our tyrants. We do not wifh for this fruitlefs and rueful

vengeance. What folace can the miferies of others affoid
us, when furrounded by the grave ? We fpeak to you, O
fovereigns ! If you be yet men, if your hearts be not
totally hardened, you will yet remember that we know
how to die j and that the death by which we fliall foon
all be fwallowed up, will one day be to you far moie
dfeadful than to us.
This note is taken, in parr, from a book intitled La
Ilcmmss,
country,
 The Taxes. 175

country, that is, of the farmer at his eafe, for

the labourer whofe property is in his arms and
his hands, pays nothing. The beef and the
hogs are likewife exempt from that odious tax,
which was firft laid on the head of the Jews (a) %

and which you paid without being fenfible of

your fervile date."

How ! I faid, do youleave it to the good-will

of the people to pay their taxes ? there muft be

then a great number that pay nothing, without
your knowing it.
—" Not at all ; ypur fears are
vain. In the firft place, we give with a free
will ; our tribute is not by compulfion, but
founded on reafon and equity. There is fear ce

a man amongft us who does not efteem it a

point of honour to difcharge the mod facred
and moft legitimate of all debts. Befide, if a
man in condition to pay fhould dare to negleft
it, you there fee the table on which the name of
(a) The Jews in France are at this day liable to pay a tax on
entering a town, in the fame manner as oxen and hogs 5 there

feems Jomething whimfical in connccling them with the lafi men-

tioned animals : it is however certainly far more infamous for a
nation that pretends to humanity to impofe a tax on any people
on account of their religion, than it is for them to pay it when
compelled,

I 4 the
Jj6 The Taxes.

the bead of every family is engraved, by whîcîi

we (houldfoon fee who had not thrown in his
packet, on which fhould be his feal. In that
cafe he covers himfelf with an eternal infamy,
and we regard him as you regard a thief ; the
appellation of a bad citizen follows him to the

grave.

"Examples of this fort are very rare, for the

free gifts frequently amount to more than the
tribute. We know that by giving a part to the
ftate, we render a benefit to ourfelves, and that
if we would enjoy certain conveniences, we
xnuft make a previous advance. But what are
words, when we can teach by example ? You
ihall prefently fee much better than I can ex-

plain to you. It is to-day that there arrives

from every part, the juft tribute of a faithful
people to a beneficent monarch, who confiders
himfelf merely as the depofitory of the gifts
they offer.

<(
Let us repair to the king's palace ; the de-
puties of each province are by this time near ar-
rived." — In faft,we had gone but a fhort way
before I faw men drawing fmall cars, on which
were
 The %axes. 177

were, placed chefts covered with laurels. They

broke the feals of thofe coffers, and put them
in the balance, by which, allowing for the weight
of the cheft, they found the juft quantity of
filver that each contained ; and as all the pay-

ments were made in filver, they knew the ex-

att produce of the whole, which was publicly
declared by found of trumpet. After the gene-
ral examination, an account in writing was
fixed up for public infpe&ion, and by that each
one knew the revenue of the ftate. The money
was then placed in the royal treafury, under the
care of the comptroller of the finances.

This was a day of rejoicing 5 they wore gar-

fends of flowers, and cried, " Long live the
king." They came in proceflion before each
car of tribute. The deputies of the feveral pro-
vinces faluted each other, and made reciprocal
prefents. They drank to the health of the mo-
narch by the found of cannon, which were an-
fwered by thofe of the capitol, as expreffing the

thanks of the fovereign. The whole people ap-

peared on that day as one family. The king
prefented himfelf in the midft of this joyful
people ; he replied to the acclamations of his

I 5 fubje&s
I 78 The Ftaxes.

Tubje£ts by thofe tender and affable regards*

that infpire confidence, and render love for

love : he difdained the art of treating politically

with a people whom he regarded as his chil-

dren. His vifits did not diftrefs the citizens,

"as they coft them nothing but cries of joy (a) f
the

(a) I once faw a prince make his public entry into a

'foreign city. The cannon proclaimed his approach. He
was magnificently diefTed, and drawn in a gilded car,

loaded with pages and lacquies. The horfes neighed and

bounded as if they had drawn the chariot of felicity. All
the windows were thrown up, the roofs were covered,
and the ftreets crowded with the multitude. The cavalry
brandifhed their fabres, and and the infantry exercifed
their mufkets. The air refounded with the echo of the
trumpets. The poet ilrung his lyre, and the orator at-
tended his defcent from the chaiiot. The prince arrives j

he is conducted to the palace, and his prefence infpires an

awfol joy. I was at a window, and faw all that pafïed,

which afforded me fome lingular reflections. Walking in

the ftreets a few days after, I was furprifed to meet this
prince on foot, alone, and in difguife. No one took any
notice of him, but treated him as a vulgar perfon. At
that moment there arrived a mountebank, feated in a fort

of chaife, drawn by a number of large dogs, with a mon-

key for their poftilion. The windows were all thrown
up, the people fhcuted, and all their looks were fixed on
the mountebank : the piince himfelf, attracted by the
crowd, became one of his admirers, I looked attentively
 The Tax eu 179

the mod brilliant and mod flattering of all re-

ceptions. They did not defift from their la-

bours, on the contrary, every citizen was proud
of appearing before his king in the occupation
he had embraced.

An intendant, invefled with all the neceffary

marks of power, went into every province, re-

ceived their petitions, examined himfelf the

abufes, and bore directly to the foot of the
throne the complaint of the fubjecl. He vifited
indifcriminately every town> and where any
abufe was abolifhed, they erected a pyramid in
commemoration. Whathiftory moreinflruo
tive than thefe moral monuments, which afferted
that the fovereign really applied himfelf to the

art of governing. Thefe intendants fet off and

arrive incognito, they are perpetually difguif-
cd, and made their informations fecretly ; they

at him, and methought I heard him fay to himfelf, " The

" empty acclamations of the multitude (hall never more
" dazzle my mind with a foolim pride. It is not this man
*' the people throng to fee, but his ftrar.ge equipage. It
** was not I that attracted their regards, but my vale's,
«• my horfes, the richnefs of my diefs, and the fptendor
** ofmy glided chariot,"
I 6 arc
,i8o TbeTtxés.

are fpies, but they a£te for the good of their

country (#).

But your comptroller of the finances, I faid,

mull be a man of wonderful integrity (k). You

remember the fable the faithful dog, dire&ed:

by temperance, carried his matter's dinner,

without every offering to touch it, but freely

to eat his part at laft, when invited by exam*
pie. Your officer muft have a double virtue
conflantlyto defend, and never dare to touch
it !
" Be aflured he builds no palace or villa. He
does not advance his diftant coufins, or ancient
valets, to the firft ports in the government. He
does not fcatter his wealth as if ail the revenue

of the kingdom was at his difpofal (c). Befide*

all

(<z) In Turky, and at prefent in France, a governor

is as much mailer as the mofl abfolute monarch $ it is that

which caufes the mifery of the people. This fort of civil

admin ift ration s is of all others the moft deplorable.

(£) Fouquet faid, " I have all the money, and the tarif

cf all the virtues of the kingdom."

(c) After the minifters, the financiers, the monopoliz-

ers, have facrifked their reputation for probity to a de -

fire of enriching themfelves j after they fcavejSbmittcd to

become
 Tbt Taxes. î8i

all thefe whofe hands the public treafurc is

in

depofited cannot make ufe of money on any

pretence whatever. It would be high treafon

to receive from them a fingle piece of coin,

They pay fome particular expences by notés

Cgned with the king's own hand. The fiâtes

provide for all their expences ; but they have

not the lead property (a). They can neither -

buy, nor fell, nor build. Their lodgings,

their tables, their diverfions, are all charged to

the flate. They enter a draper's fhop, order

fuch cloth as they want, and depart ; the tradef-

become odious, they do not even thinking of making

a good ufe of their plunder 5 they endeavour to cover

their original meannefs under a pompous appearance.

They intoxicate themfeives with diflipations in order to
drown the remembrance of what they have been, and
what they have done, even this is not the greateft evil,
for by their oftentatious wealth they corrupt thofe who
behold it with envy.
k
{a) The interior vices, that prepare the ruin of a ftate,

are, that enormous difiipation of the public treafure ;

thofe extravagant gifts beftowed on fubjecls without me-

rit 5 thofe faftuous prodigalities unknown to the moft law-
lefs ufurpers. We may obferve in hiftory, that the moil
fubtle tyrants have been the raoft prodigal. I have fome-
where read, that Auguftus, the mafter of the world, main-

tained an army of 40 legions for 12 millions per annum.

This furely affords matter for reflection.
men
 "

l82 The Taxes.

man enters In his book ; delivered fuch a day,

to fuch a dépofitary of the (late, fo much ; the
ftate pays it : arid fo of every otrrer profeffion.

You will eafily imagine, that if a comptroller

of the finances has any modefty, he will make

a moderate ufe of this privilege ; and if he
fhould even abufe it, we {hall be flill gainers,
compared with what the comptrollers coft you.
We have likewife fupprefled the regifters,
which ferved only to fcreen the robberies of
the nation, and to make them authentic by a
method that maybe called legitimate.

And who is your prime minifler ? " Can

you afk it ? The king himfelf. Can royalty
be transferred [a). The general, the judge,
the ftatefman, may then a£t by their proxies.
In cafe of ficknefs, or when on a journey, or

engaged in fome particular bufinefs, if the

monarch charges any one with the accomplish-
ment of his orders, it is perhaps his friend
only ; there is no motive but that which can

[a) The general hiftory of wars may be called, The

bifiory of the private fafiioni cfmnifters. One of thefe, by his

infiduous negotiations, (Vts a diftant and tranquil empire

in flames, merely to revenge fome trifling offence he has
perfonallv received.
induce
8
 The Taxes. 1
83

induce a man to charge himfelf voluntary with

fuch a burden ; and our efteem alone gives
him the momentary power. Animated and
recompenfed by friendfhip, he knows, like
Sully and Amboife, how to fpeak the truth to
his matter, and the more faithfully to ferve

him, fometimes to oppofe him. He combats

his paffions. He loves the man while he has
ât heart the glory of the monarch {a). By
bearing part in his labours, he acquires a
{hare of the veneration of his country, doubt-
lefs the moil honourable inheritance he can
leave his defendants, and that alone of which
fee is jealous."

When we talked of taxes, I forgot to afk,

If you have periodical lotteries, where, in my

time, the poor people depofited all their little

hoards ? " Certainly not. We do not fo

(a) Fidelity does not confift in that fervile obedience to

the will of another, which is reprefented by the emblem
of a dog, who every where follows, continually flatters,

and implicitely obeys the orders of an unjuft or tyrannic

mafter. It feems to me, that true fidelity is an exact ob-

fervance of the laws of reafon and juftice, rather than a
fervile fubmiffion. Sully appears to me faithful when he
tore the promife of marriage that Henry IV, had made.

abufe
 184 The Taxes.

abufe the credulous hope of man ; we do not

levy on the, indigent part of our people a tax
fo ingenioufly cruel. The wretched, who
weary of the prefent, lives on expectation on-
ly, carries the price of his labour and watch-
ings to that fatal wheel, from whence he is in
continual hope that Fortune will vifit him ; but
is conflantly deluded by that cruel goddefs.
The urgent defire of happinefs prevents him
from reafoning, and though the fraud be pal-
pable, as the heart is dead to hope before life

dies, every one imagines that at laft he (hall

be fuccefsful. It is the favings of the indigent

that have built tlrofe fuperb edifices, to which
they go begging their bread. It is them
to

thofe altars owe their luxury, to which they

are hardly admitted. Forever a ftranger, for-
ever repulfed, the poor are not permitted to
fit on the ftone they have paid for carving;,
pompous priefts richly endowed, live under
thofe roofs, that in equity, at leaft> ought ta
afford them an affylum."

C H A F;
 ( m >

CHAP. XIII.

ON COMMERCE.

feems, by what you have told me, that

ITFrance has no longer any colonies in the

new world ; that each part of America forms a

feparate kingdom, though united under one
fpirit of legiflation ? " We fhould be highly ri-
diculous to fend our dear fellow citizens two
thoufand leagues from us. Why fhould we
thus eflrange ourfelves from our brethren ?

Our climate is at leaft as good as that of Ame-

rica. Every neceflary produ&ion is here com-
mon, and by nature excellent. The colonies
were to France what a country-houfe is to a

private perfon : the houfe in the country,

fooner or latter, ruins that in town.

" We have a commerce, but it confifts

merely in the exchange of fuperfluities among

ourfelves. We have prudently banifhed three
natural poifons, of which you made perpetual
ufe ; fnuff, coffee, and tea. You fluffed your
heads with a villanous powder, that deprived
you
1 86 On Commerce.

you Frenchmen of what little memory you had.

You burned your ftomach with liquors that
deftroyed it by encreafmg its aftion. Thofe
nervous diforders fo common among you, were
owing to the effeminate liquor which carried
off the nourifhing juice of the animal life.

We cultivate an interior commerce only, of

"which we find the good effefts ; founded prin-
cipally on agriculture, it di {tributes the moft
neceflary aliments ; it fatisfies the wants of
man, but not his pride.

u No man bluffies to till his own ground, and

to improve it to the higheft degree poflible. Our
monarch himfelf has feveral acres which are
cultivated under his own eye. We have not
among us any of thofe titled gentry, whofe
only purfuit was idlenefs.

<c
Foreign traffic was the real father of that
deftrucStive luxury, which produced in its turn,

that horrid inequality of fortunes, which caufed

all the wealth of the nation to pafs into a few
hands. Becaufe a woman could carry in her
ears the patrimony of ten families, the pea-
fant was forced to fell the land of his ancef-
tors,
 On Commerce, 187

tors,and to fly, with tears, from that foil

where he found nought but mifery and dif-

grace : for thofe infatiable monfters, who

had accumulated the gold, even derided the
misfortunes of thofe they had plundered (#).

(a) I fmile with indignant pity when I fee fo ma-

ny fine projets offered for the improvement of agricul-
ture and population, while the taxes continually increaf-
ing, rob the people of the fweat of their brow ; and the
price of corn is augmented by the monopoly of thofe who
have all the money of the kingdom in their hands. Muft
we forever cry to thofe proud and obdurate ears, " Give
us a full and unbounded liberty of commerce and naviga-
tion, and a diminution of taxes." Thefe are the only
means of nourishing the people, and preventing that de»
population which we fee already begun. But, alas ! Pa-
triotifm is a contraband virtue. The man who lives for

himfelf alone, who thinks of nought but himfelf, who is

fi'enr, and turns away his eyes for fear of horror, he is

the good citizen j they even praife his prudence and mode-
ration. For my own part, I cannot remain filent, I muft
declare what 1 have feen. It is into moft of the provin-
ces of France that we muft go to fee the people complete-
ly miferable. It is now, in 1770, three winters together
that we have feen bread dear. The laft year one half of
the peafants had need of public charity, and this winter
will complete their ruin $ for they who have lived till now
felling their effects, have nothing left to fell. Thefe poor
people have a patience that makes me admire the force
of the laws and of education.

We
XoS On Commerce'.

We began by deftroying tbofe great compa-

nies that abforbed all the fortunes of indivi-
duals, annihilated the generous boldnefs of a
nation, and gave as deadly a blow to morality
as to the ftate.

" It may be very agreeable to fip cholo!ate>

to breathe the odour of fpices, to eat fugar and

ananas, to drink Barbadoes water, and to be
clothed in the gaudy fluffs of India. But
are thefe fenfations fufficiently voluptuous to
clofe our eyes againft the crowd of unheard
of evils that your luxury engendered in the
two hemifpheres ? You violated the moft fa-

cred ties of blood and nature on the coaft of

Guinea. You armed the father againft the
fon, while you pretended to the name of Chrif-
tians and of men. Blind barbarians ! You
have been but too well convinced by a fatal

experience. A third: for gold extolled by every

heart ; amiable moderation banifhed by avi-
dity ;
juflice and virtue regarded as chimeras;
avarice, pale and refllefs, plowing the -.waves,
and peopling with carcafes the depths of the
ocean ; a whole race of men bought and fold,

treated
 On Commerce. 1 89

treated as the vileft animals ; kings become

merchants, covering the fcas with blood for
the flag ôf a frigate : Gold, to conclude, flow-
ing from the mines of Peru like a flaming ri-

ver, and running into Europe, burned up

every where in its courfe the roots of happi-
nd>, and was then forever loft on the eaftern
world, where ûiperftition buried in the earth,
on one fide, what avarice had painfully drawn
from it, on the other. Behold a faithful pic-

ture of the advantages that foreign commerce

produced to the world.

" Our veffels do not make the tou r of the globe,

to bring back cochineal and indigo. Know you
wliere are our mines? Where is our Peru?
In labour and afliduity. All that promotes
cafe and convenience, that directly tends
to aflift nature, is cultivated with the
greateft care. All that belongs to pomp, to
orientation and vanity, to a puerile defire of an
exclufive pofleffion of what is merely the work
of fancy, is feverely prohibited. We have caft

into the fea thofe deceitful diamonds, thofe

dangerous pearls, and all thofe whimfica! ftones
that rendered the heart, like them, impene-
2 trable.
 1 9° On Commerce.

trable. You thought yourfelves highly inge-

nious in the refinements of luxury, but your
purfuits were merely after fuperfluities, after

the fhadow of greatnefs ; you were not even

voluptuous. Your futile and m iferable inven-
tions were confined to a day. You were no-
thing more than children fond of glaring ob-
jets, incapable of fatisfying your real want?.
Ignorant of the art of happinefs, you fatigued
yourfelves, far from the obje£l of your pur-
fuits, and miftook, at every ftep, the image
for the reality.

<c
When our veflels leave their harbours,

they take not thunder with them, to feize on

the vaft extent of waters, a fugitive prey that
forms a point fcarce perceptible to the fight.

The echo of the waves bears not to heaven the

hideous cries of furious wretches that difpute,
at the expence of lifeitfelf, a pafTage over the
immenfe and vacant ocean. We vifit diftant

nations, but inftead of the productions of their

lands, we bring home the molt ufeful disco-
veries relative to their legiflature, their phyfical

life, and their manners. Our veflels ferve to

connect our aftronornical knowledge ; more

than
 On Commerce. igr

than three hundred obfervatories ere£leJ on this

globe are ready to mark the lean: alteration that

occurs in the heavens. The earth is the pofl

where watches the centinel of the firmament
who never fleeps. Aftronomy is become an im-
portant fcience, as it proclaims, with a majeftic
voice, the glory of the Creator, and the dignity
of that thinking being who has proceeded from
his hands. But now we talk of commerce, let

us not forget the mofl extraordinary kind that

ever exifted. You ought to be very rich," he
faid, "for in your youth, doubtlefs, you placed
out money on annuities, efpecially on furvivor-
fhips, as did one half of Paris. An invention of
wonderful ingenuity was that fort of lottery,
where they played at life and death, and the
winnings were to go to the longeft liver ! You
fliould have a mod plentiful annuity ! They re-
nounced father and mother, brother and fifter,

all friends and relations, to double their*reve-

nue. They made the king their heir, then

flept in a profound indolence, and lived only for
themfelves/' —Ah ! why do you tell me of
thefe matters ? Thofe rueful edi£ts that com-
pleted our corruption, and diflblved connexions,
till then held facr/edj that barbarous refine-
ment
 —

1 92 On Commerce*

ment which publicly confecrated felf-love, that

detached the citizens from each other, and made
them folitary and lifelefs beings, drew tears

from my eyes, when I reflected on the future

condition of the ftate. I faw private fortunes
melt away, and the exceflive mafs of opulence
fwell by their diflblution; but the fatal blow
that was given to morals affected me ftill more
deeply ; no longer any connection between
hearts that ought to be devoted to each other ;

they gave to interefl a keener fword ; intereil

of itfelf already fo formidable ; the fovereign

authority laid thofe barriers at its feet, that it:

would never have dared to attack of itfelf.

w Good old man," faid my guide, " you have
done well to fleep, or you would have
tccn the annuitants and the ftate punifhed for
their mutual imprudence. Politics, fince that

period, has made no fuch folecifm ; it does not

now ruin> but unite and enrich the citizens»"

C H A P.
 (
i93 )

C H A P. XIV.

THE EVENING.

TH vited
E fun was going down.
me to go with him
My guide in-
to the houfe of
one of his friends, where he was to fup. I did
not want much entreaty. I had not yet feen
the infide of their houfes, and that, in my
judgment, is the mod interefting fight in
every city. In reading hiftory, I pafs over

many paflages, but am ever curious in ex-

amining the detail of domeflic life : that once
done, I have no need to learn the reft ; I can
form a natural conjecture.

On entering, I found none of thofe petty

apartments that feem to be cells for luna-

tics, whofe walls are fcarce fix inches thick,

and where they freeze in winter, and fcorch
in fummer. The rooms were large and fo-

norous ; you might walk at your eafe. A folid

roof guarded them from the piercing cold and
the burning rays of the fun $ thefe houfes,
Vox,. II. ~ K more*
194 The Evening.

moreover, did not grow old with thofe that

built them.

I entered the falloon, and prefently di-

ftinguifhed the mafter of the houfe. He fa-

luted me without grimace or referve {a). His

wife and children behaved in his prefence ill

a free but refpecTful manner ; and monfieur,

or the eldeft fon, did not give me a fpecimen
of his wit by ridiculing his father; neither
his mother, nôr his grand-mother would have
been charmed with fuch witticifms {b). His
fifters were neither affectedly polite, nor totally

infenfible; they received us in a graceful man-

ner, and refumed their feveral employments;
they did not watch all my motions, nor did

(a) How falfe and artd diminkive is our politenefs ! And

how odious and infuïtîng is that aflumed by the great f

It is a malk more hideous than the moft ugly of all faces.

All thofe reverences, thofe affected gefticulations, are infuf-

ferable to a real man. The falfe brilliancy of our man-
ners is more difguftful than the grofleft behaviour of at

clown.

{b) There is a licentioufnefs of the mind which is far

more dangerous than that of the fenfes ; and it is at this

time the principal vice that infers the youth of our ca-
pital.

my
 The Evening. 19^

my great age and broken voice make them once

fmile ; they difplayed none of that unnatural

complaifance, which is fo contrary to true po-

litenefs. This room was 'not decorated with
twenty brittle, taftelefs bawbles. There was
no gilding, varnifhing, porcelain (#)., or wretch-
ed figures- In their place was a lively tapef-
try, pleafing to the fight, and fome finifhed

prints ; a remarkable neatnefs graced this fal-

loon, that of itfelf was elegant and light-

fome.

We joined eonverfation, but there was no

fporting with paradoxes (b) ; that execrable
wit,

(a) What a miferable luxury is that of porcelain ! A

cat, a brum with the fleeve, may deftroy in a moment
more than the produce of twenty acres.

(b) Conversation animates the rencounter of ideas,

brings forth the treafures of the mind, and is one of the
grtateft pleafures of life : it is moreover that of ail others
I moft highly enjoy. But in the world, I have remark-
ed, that inftead of nourifhing, ftrengtbening, and elevat-
ing the mind, it enervates and degrades it. All things
are now become problematical. By an abufe of reafon,
the very exiftence of objects is in a manner deftroyed*

We meet with panegyrics on the moft enormous abufes,

K z All
 —

196 The Evening.

wit, which was the plague of the age I live<â

in, did not give falfe colours to things that

were by nature perfectly fimple. No one
maintained the dire£l contrary of what was
aflerted by another, merely to difplay his ta-

lents (a). Thefe people talked from prin-

ciple, and did not contradi£l themfelves
twenty times in a quarter of an hour. The
fpirit of this converfation was not directed by
ftarts; and without being profufe or dull, they

All things are juftified. They embrace, unknown to

themfelves, athoufand puerile and extravagant ideas.
There minds become diverted by the collifon of oppofite

opinions. There is, I'knownot whatpoifon, that insinuates

itfelf, mounts to the head, and clouds your primitive ideas,

which are ccrnmcnîy the mod juft. Avarice, ambition,
and luxury, have fo fubt'e a logic, that after hearing

them, you have no longer your former abhorence for

thofe by whom they are praclifed ; they all prove them-
felves to be innocent. We muft quickly fly to folitude to

regain a vigorous abhorence of vice. The world makes us

familiar w kh thofe crimes it applauds, and affects us with

its delufive frii;r. By too much frequenting men, we be-

come leTs men ; we receive from them a falfe light that

leads us allray,. :i is by (hutting the door that we re-

collect; ourfeives, that we perceive the pure light of truth,

which never fair.es among the multitude.

[a) The decrees of idlenefs are as unjuft as thofe of

vanity.
did
 The Evening. 197

fiel not pafs, in the fame breath, from the

birth of a prince to the drowning of a dog.

The young people did not a(Fe£t a childifti

manner, a drawling or Hfping language, nor
a proud carelefs afpedt and attitude [a). I

heard no licentious propofal, nor did any one

declaim in a gloomy, tedious, heavy man-
ner, agamft thofe confolatory truths, that are
the delight and comfort of fenfible minds (b).

The women did not affect a tone by turns

languiOiing and imperious ; they were decent,
referved, modeft, and engaged in an eafy and
fuitablc employment ; idlenefs had no charms
for them ; they did not rife at noon becaufe
they were to do nothing at night.- I was
highly pleafed with their not propofing cards ;

(a) A pretty fellow in France muft be (lender, weakly,

and not have more than twelve ounces of flefli on his

bones ; he mould likewife have a pain in his ftomach, and

a very poor ftate of health. A man that is ftrong and
hearty is a hideous creature. It becomes the Swifs and
and porters only, to have a mafculine figure and a florid

ftate of health.

(b) Pyrrhonifm fuppofes fometimes more prejudices

than a natural difpofuion to receive the appearances of
of truth.
K 3 that
jç8 7$* Evening*

that in lipid diverfion, invented to amufe an

idiot "monarch, and which is constantly pleaiing
to the numerous herd of dunces, who are there-
by enabled to conceal their profound igno-
rance, had difappeared from among a people
who knew too well how to improve the mo-
ments of life to wafte them in a practice at

once fo dull and faftiduous (#). I faw none

of thofe green tables, on which men ruin
themfelves unpitied. Avarice did not molefl;
thefe honeft citizens, even in the moments
-confecrated to leifure. They did not make a
fatigue of what mould be a mere relaxation (b).

(a) With our author's have, card-playing is not akvays a

proper employment for dunces : for though cards are frequently^
indeed commonly, introduced to fupply a dearth of converfatien,
yet there are federal games that require a Jlrong exertion of

all the faculties of the mind. No dunce, no man of indifferent

capacity, ever played the game of piquet or ombre well,

{b) I dread the approach of winter, not for the feveri-

ty of the feafon, but becaufe it brings with it a wretched

thirft for gaming;. That feafon is the moft fatal to morals,

and the moft infupportable to philofophy. It is then

thofe noify and infipid aflemblies Mart up ; where all the
futile paflions exercife their ridiculous empire. The tafte

for trifles then dictates the mode. All the men, meta-
morphofed into effeminate flaves, are fubordinate to the
caprice of the corner, for whom, at the very time,
nhey have neither efteem nor affeclion*
if
 The Evening. .199

If they played, it was at draughts, or chefs,

thofe ancient and ftudious games, that offer

an infinite variety of combinations to the mind.

There were alfo other games they called ma-
thematical recreations, and with which even
.their children were acquainted.

I observed that each one followed his in-

clination, without being remarked by the reft

of the company. There were no female fpies,

who, by cenfuring others, difcharged them-
fslves of that foul humour which rankles their
fouls, and which they frequently owe as -much
to their deformity as their -folly. Thefe con-
verfed, thofe turned over a hook of prints,
one examined the pi&ures, and another amuf-
ed himfelf with a book in a corner. They
formed no circle to comrrîunicate a gaping that
runs all round. In a room adjoining was a
concert ; it was that of fweet flutes united
with the human voice. The clanging harpfi-
cord, and the monotonous fiddle, here yielded
to the enchanting powers of a fine woman \ what
inftrufnent can have greater effe£t upon the
heart ? The improved harmonica, however,
feemed to difpute the prize ; it breathed the
K 4 mqf|
 2.00 The Evening.

mort pure, full, and melodious founds that can

charm the ear. It was a ravifhing and celeftiat

mufic, that is far from being rivalled by the

clamour of our operas, where the man of tafle
and fenfibility feeks for the confonancc of uni-
ty, but feeks in vain.

I was highly charmed. They did not Re-

main continually feated, nailed to a chair, and
obliged to maintain an eternal converfation
about nothing, -and that too with the utmoft
folemnity {a). The women were not conti-
nually wrangling about metaphyfics ; and if

they fpoke about poetry, of dramas, or authors*

they conftantly acknowledged themfelves,
notwithftanding their great abilities, unequal to
the fubjea (/>).

(a) In common converfation we meet with two ciiv

cumftances equally difagreeabîe, to have nothing to fay,

and yet be forced to talk j or to have fomething to fay
when the converfation is over.

(b) A woman never thinks clofcly but when (he medi-

tates on the leflbns of a favourite gallant * 5 and how
many men are there like women ?

* This is certainly not juji ; our author, as a Frenchman,

Jhouid have remembered the name of Dacier, and not bave cx-
pnjfed himfe/fin Jucb unlimited terms.
They
 The Evening. 201

They defired me to walk into an adjoining

room, where fupper was prepared. I looked
at the clock with furprize, it was not yet fe-

ren. Come, Sir, faid the mafter of the houfe,

taking me by the hand, we do not pafs our
nights by the light of wax candles. We think
the fun fa beautiful, that it is to us a pleafure

to fee its firft rays dart on the horizon. We

do not go to bed with a loaded ftomach, to
experience broken fl umbers, attended by fan-
taftic dreams. We carefully guard our health,
as on that the ferenity of the mind depends (a).
We are moreover fond of. gay and pleafmg
dreams (b).

(a) Health is to happinefs, what the dew of heaven is

to the fruits of the earth.

(b) Happy are they who enjoy the fenfation of health j

that tranquil Aate of body, that equilibrium, that per-

fect agreement of all the humours, that happy difpofiticn

of all the o-gans, by which their ftrength and agility

are fupporud. That general peifecl health, is of itfelf

a high enjoyment. It is not rapturous }

granted : but as
it alone furpaiTes all other pleafures, it gives that con-
tentment to the mind, that internal and delicious calm,
which makes exigence dear to us, enables us to ad-
mire the face cf nature, and render grateful thanks to
the Author of our being. Not to be fick, is alone a
toothing pleafure. I readily call him a philofoplier, who;
K 5 fenfible
20'2 'The Evening.

There was a general filence. The father

>of the family blefled the food that was fet be-
fore us. This graceful and holy cuftom was
-revived; and it appeared to me important, as
perpetually reminding us of that gratitude we
owe to God, who inceflantly fupplies us with
fubfiftence. I was more bufy in examining
the table than in eating, -tfhall not dwell on the
neatnefe and elegance that there prevailed. The
domeftics fat at the bottom of the table, and
eat with their matters ; they had therefore the
more refpeft for them ; they received by this
mean leflbns of probity, which they laid up in
their hearts ; they thereby became more en-
lightened, and were not coarfe or infolent, as
they were not longer regarded as bafe. Liberty,
gaiety, -a decent familiarity, dilated the heart
and globed in the front of every gueft. Every
one had his mefs placed before him ; no one
crowded his neighbour ; no one coveted a difh
that was diftant from him ; he would have been
reckoned a glutton, who was not content with
his portion, for it was .quite fufficient. Many
fenfible of the dangers, of excels, and the advantages
of moderation, knows how to bridle his appetites, and
4ive without pain : how important a fecret !

6 people
 The Evening. 203

people eat exceflively more from habit. than real

appetite (a). They had learned to corredt that

fault without a fumptuary law.

None of the meats I tafted had any difcern :

able feafoning, for which I was not forry. I

(a) Anatomy demoftrates, that our organs of plea-

sure are covered with fmall pyramidical eminences.
The lefs obtufe they are made by frequent ufe, the more
fenfible and elaftic they remain, and the more ready to re-
cover their tone. Nature, a tender and careful mother,
has fo conftructed them, that they prefer ve their fpring to
an advanced age, when their requifite fubtilty, their due
afperity is not deftroyed. It depends therefore on man to
referve pleafurefor every age of life. But what does the
intemperate wretch ? He deftroys this precious organifm j

he vitiates that delicate fenfation, by making thofe parts

fiat and hard ; he reduces a being almoft celeftial, and

endowed with pleafures peculiar to himfelf, to the rank
of a wretched automaton. What animal, in matters of
enjoyment, has been more favoured than man? Who
but he can contemplate the firmament, diftinguifh the

pleafing forms and colours of the minuteft bodies, breathe

the moft grateful odours, comprehend all the various in-
flections of the voice, receive rapturous pleafure from
paintings, eloquence, and poetry, and plunge with the
greateft delight into the depths of algebra and geometry,
, &c. ? He who fa id that man was an abridgment of the
univerfe, afTerted a great and pleafing truth, Man appears
to be connected with all that exifts.

K 6 found
204 The Evening.

found a favour in them, a natural fait, which

feemcd tome delicious. I faw none of thofe
refined difhes that pafs through the hands of
feveral fophifticators, of thofe ragouts, thofe

inflammatory fauces, rarified in fmall, but coft-

Iy difhes, which haflen the deftru£tion of the
human race, at the fame time that they burn up
the entrails. Thefe were not a voracious peo-
ple, who devour more than the magnificence
of nature, Avith all her generative faculties, can
produce. If ever luxury be odious, that of the
table is the mod deteftable ; for if the rich, by
an abufe of their wealth, diffipate the nourifh-
ing fruits of the earth, the poor muft neceflarily
pay the dearer for them, and, what is worfe,
frequently not have a competency (#).

The herbs and fruits were all of the feafôn ;

they knew not the fecret of producing wretched

cherries in the midft of the winter ; they were

not follicitous for the firft produce, but left na-
ture to ripen her fruits. The palate was there-

by better pleafed, and the body better nouriflx-

ed. They gave us a defert of fome excellent

(a) The unfeeling man is precifely him whom the world

«alls a man of tafte,

fruit,
 The Evening. 205

fruit, and fame old wine; but none of thofe co-

loured liquors diftilled from brandy, fo much
in ufe in my time ; they were as feverely pro-
hibited as arfenic. This people were fenfible v

that there was no pleafure in procuring, a flow

and cruel death.

The mafter of the houfe faid to me, with a

fmile, 6<
You rauft certainly think this a piti-

ful defert ; here are neither trees, nor caftles,

nor wind- mills, nor any other figures of coiir

feâionary (a)-, that ridiculous extravagance,

which could not produce thejeaft real pleafure,

was formerly the delight of thofe great chil-

dren that were become dotards- Your magif-
trates, who, at lead, ought to have given ex-
amples of frugality, and not authorifed by their
practice, an infolent and pitiful, luxury ; thofe

(a) O France ! O my country ! wouldft thou know

wherein thy true glory now confifts, thy real pre-emi-
nence over other nations ? Hear : thou excelleft in tho

invention of fafliions ; they are adopted in the extremiies

of the North, in all the courts of Germany, even within the
'

Seraglio ; in a word, by all the four parts of the earth.

Thy cooks, thy confectioners are the moft excellent in the

univerfe 5 and every nation of Europe admires thy
dancers.

magi-
 266 The Evening.

magiftrates, they fay 5 thofe fathers of the people,

at the commencement of every parliament,
were in extafies at the fight of grotefque figures

made of fugar ; from whence we may eafily

judge of the emulation of other ranks to excel!

the men of the long robe." — You can have but

an imperfeft idea of our induftry, I replied ; in
my time, they exhibited, on a table ten feet

wide, an opera of fweetmeats, with all its ma-

chines, decorations, orcheftra, a&ors, and
dancers, with the fhifting of the fcenes,
in the fame manner as at the theatre of the Pa-
lais-Royal. During the exhibition, the whole
.people befieged the door, ta enjoy the great

happinefs of a glimpfe of this fuperb defert, the

whole expence of which they certainly paid.

The poor people admired the wonderful mag-

nificence of their princes, and thought them-
felves very infignificant, when compared with
fueh greatnefs. ... .The whole company laughe4
heartily ;we rofe from table with gaiety we ;

rendered thanks to God and no one complain-

;

ed of vapours or indigeftion.

£ H A P,
 ( 2T>7 )

CHAP. XV.

THE GAZETTE S.

ON returning to the former room,

lying on the table large ftieets of paper,
I faw

twice as long as the Englifh news-papers. I

eagerly feized thefe printed (heets, and found

that they were intitled, News public and pri-
vate. As nothing can equal the furprife I felt

on reading every page, determined as I was ne-

ver more to be furprifed, I fhall here tranfcrihe
thofe articles that ftruckme moft, as near as my
memory will permit.
#jiO. *Jfe

From Pekin, the . . ...

They reprefented before the emperor th«

tragedy of Cinna. The clemency of Auguftus,
with the beauty and dignity of the other cha-
raûers, jcnade a great impreflion on all the au-
dience.

O what an impudent lying gazette is here!

1 faid to the perfon who flood next me. Read
--.. ..* u Nay," he replied very coolly, " there
is
 208 The Gazettes.

is nothing more likely. I myfelf have feen the

Orphan of China reprefented at Pekin. You

muft know, that I ama mandarin, and that I

love letters as much as juftice. I have traverfed

the Royal Canal (a) ; I arrived here in about

four months, and amufed myfelf by the way;

I was anxious to fee that Paris, of which I had
heard fo much, and to inform myfelf of a thou-
fand things, which it is abfolutely neceffary to

fee, clearly to comprehend. The French lan-

guage has been common at Pekin for thefe two
centuries paft ; and, on my return, Ifhall take
with me feveral good books that I intend to
tranilate.
" — You do not then, Mr. Mandarin,
ftill ufe your hieroglyphic language, and have,

abrogated, that extraordinary law, which for-

(a) The Royal Canal divides China, fronr north to fouth,

for the fpace of fix hundred leagues. It is joined by lakes,

rivers, &c. This empire abounds with like canals, many,

of which run ten leagues in a ftrait line ; they fupply moft
of the cities with proviens. Their bridges have a bold-
nefs and magnificence fuperior to any thing of the kind*
that Europe can produce. And we, weak, trifling, pitiful

in all our public woiks, we employ our ingenuity, la-

bour, and wonderful knowledge, in ornamenting objecls of

mere vanity, in erecVing magnificent bawbles j almoft all
that we call mafter-pieces of art are nothing more than
the fports of children,
bade.
 The Gazette's. 209

bade anyone of you to leave the empire? —" It

was quite neceffary to change our language and

adopt more fimple characters , if we would
maintain a correfpondence with you. This was
rcot more difficult than it is to learn algebra or
geometry. Our emperor has repealed the law
that forbade travelling, as he very rightly
judged, that you did not all refemble thofe
priefts whom we named demi-diables, from
their attempts to allumine the torch of difcord

even in our diftant country. If I do not miftake

the epoch, a more clofe and intimate connec-
tion was formed on account of certain copper-

plates which you had engraved. That art was

then new to us, and highly admired. We have
fince almoft equalled you."— O, I underftand
you ; the defigns of thofè plates reprefented bat-
tles ; they were fent to us by that poetic mon-
arch to whom Voltaire addrefied a beautiful
ode ; and our king having charged his bed: ar-
tifts with their execution, fent them as a pre-

sent to The charming emperor of China. —"Right.

Since that time the intercourfe has been eft ab-

Kfbed, and by degrees the fciences have paffed

from one country to the other, like bills of ex-.
change. The opinions of one man havebe-
come
2ïO The Gazettes

come thofe of the univerfe. It is printing, that

iioble invention,' which has propagated this

light. The tyrants of human reafon, with their

hundred hands, have not been able to flop its

invincible courfe. Nothing can be more rapid

than that falutary motion given to the moral
world by the fun of arts ; it has furrounded
£very object with a pure and durable fplen-
dor.

" The baftinado is no longer pra&ifed in

China; and the mandarins dô not now refem-
-ble the heads of a college \ the common people
are not flothful and fraudulent, as the greateft
pains has been taken to improve their minds i

ignominious punifhments no longer crufli them

to the earth ; they have been infpired with no-
tions of honour. We conftantly venerate Con-
fucius, who was almoft cotemporary with your
Socrates, and who, like him, did not fubtilife

on the Principal of Beings, but contented him-

felf with declaring that nothing is hid from him,
and that he will punifh vice and reward virtue.

Our Confucius had one advantage over the

Grecian fage ; he did not boldly attack thofe
religious prejudices, which, for want of a more
xioble
 .

The Gazettes. 2ïi

noble firpport, were the bafis of the morals of

the people ; he waited patiently, till truth,

without tumult and labour, fhould exert its

own power. In fhort, it was he, who proved

that a monarch muft neceflarily be a philofopher

to govern his people juftly. Our emperor flill

holds the plow, ; but it is not an act of vain

oeconomy or puerile oftentation. . .
."

Urged by a defire to read and hear at the

fame time, while I liftened on one fide, my

eye, not lefs curious, ran over the pagea of this
gazette. I read as follows,

Jeddo, the capital pf Japan, the. . .

The defendants of the great Taico, who

caufed Dairi, to be regarded as an impotent,
though revered idol, have juft tranflated the
Spirit of Laws, and the Treatife on Crimes and
Punifhments.

The venerable Amida has been conduced

through all the ftreets -, but no one offered him-
ielf to be cruflied by his chariot- wheels.

A. FREE
212 The Gazettes.

A free entrance is granted at Japan ; ancf

every one there eagerly profits by the arts of fo-
reigners. Suicide is no longer a virtue among
thefe people ; they have difcovered that it was
the confequence of defpair, or of afoolifli and
criminal infenfibility.
w * ?RS

Persia, the ....

The king of Per.fia has dined with his bro-
thers, who have remarkable fine eyes. They
afiift in the government of the empire; their

principal employment is to read the difpatchcs.

The facred books of Zoroafter and Sadder arc

conftantly read and refge&ed j but there is now
so mention made of Omar, or of All.

Mexico, the . . . .

This city has completely regained the an*

cient fplendor it enjoyed under the auguft go-
vernment of princes defcended from the re-

nowned Montezuma.. Our emperor, on his

advancement to the throne, rebuilt the palace

in the form it had in the days of his anceftors.

The Indians no longer go bare-foot and without

linen. They have erected in the great fquare
the
 The Gazettes. 213

the ftatueof Gatimozin, extended on the burn-

ing coals ; and under it are wrote thefe words,
And 7, am I on a bed ofrofes ?

Pray tell me, I laid' to the mandarin, is it

then forbid to name the empire of New Spain ?

He replied, <c
When the avenger of the New
World had drove away the tyrants, (the talents
of Mahomet and Caefar united would not have
nearly equalled thofe of that wonderful man)
this formidable deliverer contented himfelf with
l>eing a legiflator. He laid down the fword, to
difplay to the nations the facred code of the laws.
You can form no idea of fo tranfeendent a ge-
nius ; his powerful éloquence refembled the
voice of the Divinity defcended upon the earth,
America was divided into two empires ; that of
North America contains Mexico, Canada, the
Antilles, Jamaica, and St. Domingo ; to that

of South America belongs Peru, Paraguay,

Chili, the land of Magellan, and the country of
the Amazons ; but each of thefe kingdoms has
a feparate monarch, who is himfelf fubje£i to a
general law, almoft in the fame manner as, in
your time, the flourifhing empire of Germany,
2 white
214 2Tk Gazettes.

while divided into various monarchies, formed

but one body under one general fovereign.

<c Thus the blood of Montezuma, for a long

time obfcured and concealed, again mounted'

the throne. All thefe monarchs are patriot
princes, who have no other objeft than the
maintainance of public liberty. This great man,
this renowned legiflator, this negro, in whom
nature had exerted all her force, has infpired
them with his great and virtuous fpirit. Thefe
vaft liâtes repofe and flourifh in a perfeft con-

cord, the flow, but infallible work of reafon.

The ravages of the ancient world,, their cruel
and childifti wars, the rivers of blood idly

wafted, and the (hame for having caufed them ;,

in a word, the folly of ambition» plainly de-

monftrated, has been fufficient to induce the
new continent to make peace the titular deity
of their country. In our day, a war would dif-
honour a ftate, as robbery dilhonours a private
perfon." I continued to read and liften.

Para-
 The Gazettes %i£

Paraguay, from the city of the Affumption,

the ... .

We have juft held a folemn feaft, in memory

of the abolition of that difgraceful flavery to
which this nation had been reduced, under the
defpotic empire of the Jefuits. For fix centu-
ries paft, we have regarded it as a fpecial fa-

vour of Providence that enabled us to drive

out thofe wolf-foxes from their laft retreat. This
nation, however, is not ingrate^ for it acknow-
ledges the advantage of being raifed from
wretchednefs and inftiu&ed in agriculture and
the arts by thofe Jefuits. Happy, if they had
contented themfelveswith inftru&ing mankind*
and giving them facred laws of morality,
w W w
From Philadelphia, the capital of Pen fyl-
vania, the ....

This province, where humanity, faith, li-

berty, concord, and equality, have taken re-

fuge for more than eight hundred years, is co-
vered with the moft elegant and flourishing ci-
ties. Virtue has performed more here than
has courage among other nations. Thofe ge-
nerous
 6

2 1 The Gazettes.

nerous quakers (a) y the moll virtuous of man»

kind, by affording to the world a people that
are all brethren, have ferved as a model to hearts
that have become humanized by their example.
We know that they have been able, from the
time of their origin, to give mankind a thou-
sand examples of generofity and beneficence.
It is well known that they were the firft who
refufed to fhed the blood of man ; and that

they regard war as a weak and barbarous frenzy.

It is they that have undeceived thofe nations
who were the miferable vi&ims'of the quarrels
of their kings. They have juft publifhed their

(-«) How can the princes of the North refrain from co-
vering themfelves with immortal glory by baniming flavery
from their dominions, by reftoring to the labourer of the
lard at leaft his perfonal liberty ? How can they be deaf to
tt>e cry of humanity, which conftantly excites them to
that ac"l of glorious beneficence ? By what motive can
they be induced to hold in an odious fervitude, and one
that is contrary to their real intereft, the moft induftrious
part of their fuhjects, when they have before their eyes the

example of thofe quakers who have given liberty to all

their negro flaves ? How is it poflible for them not to be

fenfible, that their fubjefts will be more faithful by being

more free : and that they muft ceafe to be flaves ere they
can become men ?

annual
animal exhortation, in which are contained
thofe pra&ical virtues, which fet to their faith

the feal of perfection.

#Ak. SU.

Morocco, the ....

We have discovered a comet that is going

toward the fun. This is the three hundred
and fifty-firft that has been obferved fince the

erecting of our obfervatory. The obfervations

made in the interior J arts of Africa, correfpond
ex#£Uy with ours.

They have put to death an inhabitant who

had afiaulted a Frenchman, in conformity to
the ordinance of our fovereign, whofe will it is

that every ftranger fhall be regarded as a bro-

ther who is come to vifit his intimate friends.

Siam, the . . . .

Our navigation makes a mod aftonifhing

pro^refs. We have launched fix veflels of three
decks, which are deftined for long voyages.

Our king prefents himfelf to all that defire

to behold his auguft perfon. There is not a

Vol. II; L more
 .

Il8 The àaïettts.

more affable monarch exifting, efpccially whelS

he reforts to the pagod of the great Sommomr*

codom.

The white elephant is kept at the menagery,

but merely as an objeft of curiofity, as he is

perfect in the exercife of the riding-fchool.

to? y& vjfc

from the Coast of Malabar, the . . .

The widow . . * ; who is young, handfome,

and adorned witfi every accomplifhment, ha'3

iincerely deplored the death of her hufband, who

was burned alone 5 and sifter mourning, more

in her heart than in her drefs, has been re-mar-
ried to a young, man by whom ïhe is alfo ten*
derly beloved. This new connexion has ren-

dered her fl ill more refpe&able to all her fellow-

citizens.
$& * & TO* TO* 11^

From the Land of Magellan, the. . .

The twenty fortunate iflands, who lived*

without knowing it, in all the innocence and

happinefs of the firft age, are lately united ;

they now form aii affoeiation truly fraternal and

reciprocally ufeful.

7 Front
 From the Land of Papôs (a), the . . •

As we advance into this 'fifth part of the world *

our difcoveries become every day more exten-
five anditlterefting. We are furprifed at its

riches, fertility, and its numerous inhabitants*

who here live in continual peace. They may
juftly difdain our arts ; their morality is ftill

more admirable than their phyfics. The fun,

in all thefe immenfe regions, more extenfive
'than Afia arid Africa united, beholds not one
unfortunate being; while Europe* fo diminu-
tive, fo poor, and divided into fo many parts*
has almoft hardened her foil withhuman bones»
*fc
*H* 3&V
»1> #
1r

From the Iflatid of Taiti, hi the South Sea*

the». ..

When M. Bougainville difcover<ed this

happy -ifland, where reign the manners of the

golden age, he did not fail to take polTeffion of
it in the name of his matter. He at lad re-em-
barked, and took with him a Taitian, who iri

1770 attracted the curiofit'y of Paris for a

week. It was not then known that a French-

es The land of Papos is four thoufand leagues diilant

from Paris.
 j

220 TJjâ Gazettes.

man, induced by the beauty of the climate* the

candour of its inhabitants, and ftill more by the
mifery which threatened that innocent people,
concealed' himfelf at the time his comrades em-
barked. The veflelhad nofooner difappeared,
than he prefented himfelf to the people; he af-

fembled them in a large plain, and made the

following fpeech :

" I have chofe to remain among you for my

u own happinefs, and for yours. Receive me as
u a brother ; you will fee that I deferve that ti-
<l
tie, as I offer to fave you from a mo ft horrid
** calamity. O happy peop'e, who live in all
" the fimplicity of nature ! little do you think
"of the miferies that threaten ycu ! Thefe
4i
ftrangers you have entertained, and who
u feemed fo polite, whom you have loaded with
u civilities and prefents, and whom at this mo-
" ment I betray, if it be treachery to prevent the
"ruin of a virtuous people ; thefe ftrangers,
" my countrymen, will foon return, and bring
U with them all thofe plagues that affliâ: other
^countries ; they will infeft you with poifons
" aad maladies of which you have no concep-
" tion.
 The Gazettes. 2z\

** tion ; they will load you with fetters ; and*

•* by their cruel arguments, they will prove it

" to be for your advantage. Behold this pyra-

" mid they have ere&ed, which declares, that.
" this land is already dependent on them, and
" marks you as the fuhjefts of a monarch, of
•f whofe very name you are ignorant. You tire
" aM deftined to obey new laws. They will
•' ftrip the harveft from your lands, will defpoi!
"your trees of their fruit, and feize on you.-
£* perfons. That happy equality which reigns
<l
among you will be aboli (lied. Perhaps, your
il
blood will bathe tbofe flowers that now bend
M under the weight of your innocent embraces-.
"-Love is the god of this ifland 3 it is conferral*
<c
ed, foto fay, tohisworfhip. Hatred and Ven-
" geance will take his place. You are yet evoti
il
ignorant of the ufe of arms; they will teach

f* you what is war, murder, and ilavery. .

."

At thefe words, the people turned pale, and

remained fixed in aflonifhment. Thus a^com'-
pany of children, interrupted in the midft of
their pleafing fports, will be feized with terror,

when a dreadful voice (hall tell them the world

L 3 is
Z 2% The. Gazette^

is at an end, an J make them fenGble of CirJuW

inities that thçir tranquil ininds.had never con-..

chived.

The orator continued,.. u People, whom I:

u love, and for whom my heart yearns! There is.

fi
. yet a way to preferve your liberty and your
6C
happinefs* Let every (hanger that lands on
f* your coaft be façriSced to the fafety of you£
" -country. The decree is cruel ; but the lov^
" of jtour children and of ycur pofterity fliould.
?f make you embrace it. "V ou would be mere
<c
fhocked, were I to relate to you the horrid
** cruelties that the Europeans have exercifed
g<
toward people, who, like you, were weak an4
4<
innocent, Guard yourfelves againft the con*.
*< tagious breath that proceeds from their lips $

f
[ even their very fmiles are fignals of the mife*
4i
ries with which they intend to overwhelm
« you."

The heads of the nation afTembled, and by

an unanimous voice inverted him with the chief
authority who had been their general benefac-

tor, bypreferving them from fuch horrible cala^.

inities. The decree of. death againft every
iUange*
 \

7be Gazettes 1 23

ftnmger was executed with a virtuous ami pa-

triotic rigour ; as it was formerly in Taurida,

by a people in appearance as innocent, but jea-

lous of forming any connection with nations

who were flcillful in arts, but at the fame time,
cruel and tyrannic*

They write, that this law has been lately

abolifhed, becaufe, by repeated informations,

they have learned that Europe is no longer the
enemy of the other four parts of the globe * that-

it does not now attack the liberty of peaceful

nations far diftant from it 5 that it is not fharne-
fully jealous of the power of its feveral fovs*

jtigns ; that it is ambitious of forming friends,

and not making flaves $ that its veflels go ia
fearch of examples of fimple and refined man*
tters, and not of contemptible riches, &c. &c.
&c.

Tt TERSBURGH, the ... .

The moft noble of all titles is that of Iegifla-

tor. A fovereign tfyen approaches neareft to
the Divinity, when he gives fagaçious and dur-
able laws to t* nation. We ftill repeat with
h 4 rapture
SfiSj. "fc Gazettes.

rapture the auguft name of Catherine III Wé

no longer talk of her conquefts and her tri-
umphs, but of her laws. Her ambition was to
diffipate the darknefs of ignorance, and tofub*
ftitute, in room of barbarous euftoms, laws
the
dilated by humanity. More happy, more glo
rious than Peter the Great, becaufe more hu-
mane, fhe applied herfelf, notwithftanding all

oppofite examples, to make her people flourifh 1 '

ingand happy; which they were, in defiance of

public and domeftic ftorms that (hook her
throne. By her courage, (he was enabled to for*
tify acrown that the univerfe beheld with plea-
fure on her brow. We
mud go very far back
into antiquity to find a legislator of-equal digni*
ty and fagacity. — The chains that bound the
labourers of the land were broken. She raifed

lier front,, and faw them with delight exalted to

the rank of men. The fabricators of luxury no

longer found their profeffibns more lucrative
or more honourable. The genius of humanity
cried aloud to all the inhabitants of the Ncnth,
Men ! be free ; and remember future generations^
that :1 is to a woman you owe all the happinefsjou
 The Gazettes. 225

At the laft; numbering of the inhabitants of

all the Rufiias, they amounted- to forty-five

millions of people. In 1769, they counted only

fourteen millions ; but, by the fagacity of the
legiflator, her humane code of laws, and the
throne of her fucceflbrs being firmly eftàblifhed,
by their generofity- and affability, the popula-
tion of this empire is become equal to its extent,
which is greater than . that of Auguftus or
^Alexander. The conftitution of government,
moreover, is no longer military; the fovereign
calls himfelf only autocrate, the univerfè in gé-
rai is too enlightened to bear the former odious
government (a).
jjfc. àk. 4fc

Warsaw, the . . -
•'.

An anarchy the mod abfurd and injurious to

the rights of man, who is born free, and the
mod oppreffive to the people, no longer trou-
bles Poland. The renowned Catherine II. had

(a) He who had fa id fou rfcore years fince, that atPe*

terlburgh they would, at this time, follow our modes, our
pexukes, our coifs, and comic operas, would certainly.
bave*pafled for a madman. We muft patiently confen.t to
to bo called tools, when we publifh ideas that extend be-
yond the horizon of the vulgar. All things in Europe;
tend to a fudden révolu; ion.
L J; foir-
 The Gazette:.

rly a wonderful influence over the affairs

61 ,.,.<> kingdom ; and they il ill remember with

gratitude, that it was me who gave to the pea-
sant hi perfonal liberty, and the property of his
effects. The king died at fix laft night : his
fon mounted the throne in peace the fame even-
ing, and received the homage of all the palatine
nobles.

JUL 4fc. AtL

3jy ?|F ?!&

Constantinople, the . . .

It wa3 a great happinefsfor the world when

the Turk, in the eighteenth century, was dri-

ven out of Europe. Every friend to humanity

rejoiced at the fall of that baneful empire,
where the monfter Defpotifm was careffed by
the infamous bafhaws, who only proftrated
"themfelves before him, that they might exceed
his horrid oppreffions. The fons, a long time/

exiled, re-entered the poffeffions of their fa-

thers, not dejecled, but triumphant, robtift,

in a ftate to improve them. The ufurpers of

the throne of the Conftantines funk into the;
bogs of their ancient marfhes ; and thole bar*
tiers that Superftition, and its infeparable and
dreadful colleague, Tyranny, had placed a-

gaina
 7hiM Gazettes. 227

gainfl reafon and the arts, f;om the n vers Save

and the Danube, to the borders of the ancient

Tanais, were broke clown by a people of the

North, with the iron hand that fupported them.
Philofophy again appeared in her original fanc-
tiiary, and the country of Themiitocles and
Miltiade? again embraced the ftatue of. Liberty :

It rcfe as bold and noble as in thofe fair days

when it (hone in all its fplendor, and with a

power extended over all its original domain.

There was no more feen a Sardanapalus fleep-
ing, opprefled by the weight of barbarities,,
caufed by a vifier and a bow- firing, while his
vail dominions, defpoiled and languifhing,
were plunged in the fleep of death.-

The animating breath of liberty now gives

them frefii vigour. It has a creative fpirit
that produces prodigies unknown to flavifh ca-
nons. The dominions of the Grand Signior
were at fir-ft pofiefled by his neighbours \ but
two Centuries after they formed a republic,
that commerce renders flourifliing and form*-
duhls.

L6 They
 ~
2x8 The Gazettes.

They havegiven a grand mafquerade, where

formerly was the feraglio ; the moft delicious
wines, and every other refrefh ment, was there
provided, with a profufion- that did not in the
lead interfere with the moft refined delicacy»
The following evening they reprefented the
tragedy of Mahomet, in the theatre built on
the ruins of theancient mofque called St. Son
phia»

TW TfP ^^

Rome, the , . , (a):.

The emperor of Italy has received, at the,-

Capitol, ..the. vifit of, the bifhop of Rome, who,

very
(a) How execrable is the name of Rome to my ears Ï :

How fatal has been that city to the univerfe Î From its

firft foundation* owing to a handful of ruffians, how

faithful has it been to its original inftitution. Where
Aiall we find a more voracious, iubtle, .and inhuman am?
bition ? It hath extended the chains of oppreffion over
the whole known world. Neither ftrength, nor valour,
mot the moft heroic virtues, has been able to preferve man-
kind from flavery. What demon has prefided over irs

coftquefts, and precipitated the flight of its eagles ! O*

fatal republic 1 What monftrous defpotifm has ever had
fuch deteftable effects ! O Rome, howl hate thee ! What
a people are they who go about the earth deftroying the
(jberties of others, and at foftdeftroy their own ! What
a people-
 -

Tin Gazettes^ 229

^efy refpe&fully offered up his prayers to hea-

ven for the preservation of that monarch's days^

and
a people were they, who, when furrounded by all thç
arts, could enjoy the entertainment of gladiators, fix a
curious eye on the wretch whofe blood gufhed forth, and
required the victim to aflume an unconcern for death, to
give the fie to nature in his lafY moments, by appearing
delighted with the applaufe of myriads of barbarous hands!
What a people were they, who, after having aflumed an
unjuft dominion over the univerfe, could fuffèr, without
complaining, fo many emperors to rule them with a rod
of iron, and who fltewed a fervilfty as bafe as their ty-
ranny had been arrogant. But all this was trifling. A
foperftition, the moftabfurd and moft ridiculous, afiumed

in its turn, the throne of defpotic power, and had for her
minifters Ignorance and Barbarity. After Rome had de-
voured mankind in the name of its country, it devoured
them in* the name of God. . Then blood was (hed for tho ,-

chimerical fervice of heaven, a cruelty of which the world

had produced no inftance. Rome was the infecluous gulr* ,

from whence exhaled thofe fatal opinions that divided

mankind, and armed them againft each other for phan- ,

toms. Soon it engendered, under the name of pontiff^ ,

who called themfelves the vicars of God, the moft odious,

monfters. When compared with thofe tygers that bcre^
the}<eys and the triple crown, Caligula, Nero, and DomU
tian, were but vulgar villains. The people, as ifftrucfr*

by a petrifying rod, vegetated a thoufand years under a

defpotic theocracy. Tiie facerdotal empire covered aiî>

concealed all in its darknefs» Human beings no longer.

txilUd
<%yyr The Gazttleu

and the profperity of his, dominions (/)/ Thé

bifhop returned on foot, with all the humility

exifted but to obey the decrees of a deified mortal. . He

fpoke, and his voice was the commanding thunder. Then
were feen croif.i^es, a tribunal of inquifitors, profciip r
tions, anathema;, excom-muniCationv: invifibie- thunders,,

-that were, bulled to the ends of the earth. Thofe Chrif-

tians, with faith and rancour in their hearts, were- not
able to fatisfy themfelves with murders : a new world, a
world en' ire, was neceiTary to glut their rage. They
would compel mankind by force to adopt their chimeras.
It was the irmge of the crofs that was the fignal for tho re
horrible devaluations : wherever it appeared, blood flowed
in torrents: and even at this day the fame religion autho-

lifts the flavery of wretches, who fearch, in the entrails

of the earth, that gold of which Rome is the mofl mamer-
kfs idolater.

Thou city of feven hills !'

what 4warms of calamities
hive iiïued from thine infernal womb * What art thou 2

Whence deriveft thou thy powei over this unhappy globe ?

Has the maleficent Arimanis, the origin of evil, fixed his

feat within thy walls ? Ait thou the gate at which mis-
fortunes enter ? Do thy foundations touch the roof o£

hell ? When will that fatal tahfman be broken, which,

though it has loft fomewhat of its power, is /till fo bane-
ful to mankind ? O Rome» haw I hate thee! May at
leaft the memory of thy iniquities remain I may it «*onftt-
tute thy infamy, and never be effaced Î and may every
heart, burning with juft indignation, be filled, hke mine,
with horr«r at thy name !

(b) The throne of defpotic power is fixed on tbe altar*

which only fupporis it to fwallow it up,

of
 Thr Gazettes. 23$

of a ttue fervant of God. All thofe' beautiful-

antique monuments- that were caft into the Ty-
ber, where they have lain buried for fo man p.
years, have been lately ta-ken up and placed in#
different parts of Rome. They have found
means of recovering them without infecting
the air with any dangerous exhalation»

THEbifbopftf Rome ^continually employed

in forming a code of rational and affedling mo-
rality. He has publilhed the Catechifm of hu-
man reafon. He particularly applies himfelf
in furnifhing anew degree of evidence to thofe -

truths that are of real importance to man. He

keeps a regifter of all generous, charitable, and
iîluiliious actions ; he makes them public, and
chara£terifes every fpecies of virtue. Judge of
kings and of nations, by virtue of his ardent
love for humanity, he reigns by that invisible
empire which invefts him with the fpirit of wif-
dom,of juftice,and truth. He foftens, he conci-

liates the differences of mankind, His bulls*

wrote in all languages, announce not obfcu;e ?
ufeiefs dogmas, or fentences of eternal divî-
fions, but expatiate on the attributes of the Di-
vinfcy,
 .

Tie Gazettes.

vinity, of his univerfal prefence, ofthelifeto^

come, and the fublimity of virtue. The Chi-
nefe, the Japanefe, the inhabitants of Surinam.
4&nd Kamfchatka, read them with edification.,

Naples, the. . .

Our academy of belles lettres has given the

prize to a candidate named . The fubjecl:

was, an exact determination of what cardinals

were in the eighteenth century, the principles
and manners of that extraordinary fort of men :

what pafled in the prifon of th'e conclave, and

the preciie time when they became again what
they were in the infancy of Chriflianity. The
fiiccefsful author has fully fatisfied the inquiries

of the academy. He has even given a defcrip-

tion of the cap and red hat. This diflertation

is not lefs entertaining than elaborate.

. They have. reprefen ted atabooth in the fair»

the farce of St. Januarius, which was formerly

treated in fo ferious a manner. All the worlds,
knows that his blood was fuppofed to liquify

every year. They have parodied this ridicu—

tous, (lory iaa manner highly comic.

The,
 The- Gazettes. 233

The treafures of our Lady of Lorretto (*),

that ufed to be employed in feeding and clothe

ing the poor, have been lately applied to the j

conftrudting an aqueduâ, as there are no-^i

longer any poor. Tile riches of the ancient
cathedral of Toledo, deftroyed in the yean 867*
ought to be applied to the fame purpofe. See
on this fubje&the learneddiflertations of- >

printed 1111999.

^p w? w
Madrid, the . • .

Enacted, that no perfon fhall take the

name of Dominic, ash is that of the barbarian

{a) For fifteen centuries paft we have fcen fcarceanp

other public buildings in all Europe than Gothic churches* »

with high-poinredfteeples. The pictures we there fee offer

very few fubjecTs but what are hideous and difguftful. But
what monafteries richly endowed! "What opulent univer-
ffties Î What afylums open to idlenefs and a theological
jargon ! It was, however,, at the time the people were in
the greateft poverty, that the fecret was found of erecting
thefe fumptuous cathedrals and monafteries. How flou-
rilhing would thofe nations have been, if they had em-
ployed in aqueducts and canals, thofe immenfe fums that
were fquandered away in enriching priefts and nuns?

who*
234 7fo Gaztiissi

who formerly eftablifhed the ir/quifition (h)\

Enafted, that the name of Philip II. {hall be.

^rafed from the lift of the Spanifh monarchs.

The fpirit of induflry is every day more ma>-

nifeft, by the ufeful difcoveries they make in.

all the arts. The academy, of fçiences have juft

given a new fyftem of ele&ricity, founded on,
more than twenty thoufand feparate experi?
inentç,

# * #.-

London, the . . .

This city is three times as large as it was-

in the eighteenth century. The whole ftrength
of the nation may refide, without any ill con„- :

fequence, in the capital, as commerce is the

foul of it, and the commerce of a repute,

(&) Every mind in which fanatifm has not ftifted all fen-

timents of humanity, muft be diftrac*red with indignation

and pity on the thought of thofe barbarities, thofe ftudied

tortures that religious fury has incited men to invent. The

ftories of Canabals and Anthropophagi are lefs horrible,

Torquemada, inquifitor of Spain, boafted of having de-

ftroyed, by fire and fword, more than fifty ihoufand he-
retics. We every where find bloody traces of that religi-

cusferocity, Is that the divine law which calls i feif the

fypport of politics and morality Î

UOMfct
 9% Gazettes 7$$

Ikan people does, not draw after it thofe fatal.

evils thatattenda monarchy. England confiant-

ly maintains its ancient fyflem. It is good,.

becaufc it enriches, not the monarch, but the

people ; from whence arifes that equality,

which prevents ç^ceffive opulence and excef*

iive mifery.

The Englifh are conftantly the firft people

in Europe. They enjoy the ancient glory of
having offered to their neighbours, an example
of that form, of government which becomes
men jealous of their rights and their happi-
nçtu.

They no longer regard the anniverfary of

the death of Charles I. They are more per*
fe& in their politics. A new flatute of Crom-
well has been lately ere&ed ; the colours of
the marble are fo intimately blended, that it

i$ hard to fay whether it be black or white.

The afiemblies of the people will be hereafter
held, m the prefence of. this, ftatue, as that
%$& The Gazetted

great man was the real author of their happy*.

and immutable conftitution [a] *.

The Scotch and Irifii have prefented a pe-v

tition to parliament, that the names of Scot-
land and Ireland may be abolifhed, and that
they may make but one body, fpirit, and name*
with the Englifh, as they are one by that-

patriotic fpirit with which they are animated.

Vienna, the . . .

Austria, who has ever provided Europe

with a race of amiable princefles, announces,
that fhe now has feven marriageable beauties,
who will efpoufe thofe princes of the earth
that have given the fairefl proofs of tendemeft
for their people.

fa)
J, J.
Rouieau attributes the flfength, the fplendor*

and liberty. of England to the dertru&ion of thofe wolves

with which it was formerly infefted. Happy nation It I

has drove away wolves a thoufand times more dange-

rous, and fuch as ftill defolate other countries.

* Many obji'fli a diftance ; it would he baj>py

look left at

f»r us if rue could fee our country from the fame point of light
ivitb tlii foreigner ,

from
 Y!x Gazette 237

W
&c ^
&- àki
?7F

From the Hague, the . . .

"This lahorious people, who have made a

garden of a foil the moft marfhy and barren,

who have brought all the produftions Scatter-

ed over the earth to a fpot that fcarcely pro-

duces a flint, are inceflantly exercifing their

furprifing iriduflry, and fhowing the world,

what fortitude, patience, and perfeverance can
perform. An extreme thirft for gold no lon-
ger prevails among them. This republic has
become more powerful by difcovering thofe
fnarès that were fecretly intended to deftroy
it. They found 'that it was more eafy to fee
bounds to the enraged ocean, than to reflft an

infidious metal ; and they now defend them-

fclves with as much refolution againft luxury as
againft the aflaults of the fea.

Paris, the . • .

Twelve veflels, of fix hundred tons each,

are arrived at this capital, and have brought
plenty of provifioris. We now eat fifh with-

out -paying ten times the original value. The

new
•^38 $& GûzeUcu

'new bed ôf the Seine, dug from Roiiéh ïù

this city, requiring forri'e reparations, they have
affigned the fum of. a mil ion and a half of

livres, to be taken from the public trcafury*

That fum will be fufRci?-nt, as they make no
tife of registers or undertakers.

A most devouring, infolent, puerile^ capri-

cious, and enormous luxury, no longer reigns
on the borders of the Seine; biit one that pro-
tnotes induftry> that creates new commodities,
and adds to our conveniences 5 a ufeful and
neceflary luxury, fo eafy to be diftinguifhed*
and which ought never to be confounded with
that of pride and orientation, which infults the

ftation of the common people, and tends to

tender it wretched by its efTe&s and exam-
ple (*).
Thev
{a) When fiiaîl we ceâfe tô fee that monftrous inequa-

lity of fortunes, that exceffive opulence, which produces

fo much extreme indigence, and is the fource of all

our crimes! When (hall We cea'fe 10 fee the poor labourer,

unable to relieve himfelf by his induiftry, from a m fer y
i i h
which he is held by the very laws of his country \ An-
other ftretcbing forth a trembling hand/ fearful at once of
the looks and the repulfe of his fellow-mortal Î Wheri
fhall
 Tue Gazètîeh î$$

Tk e y have repaired the ffotue of Voltaire*

%hich the literati, the moft diflinguifhed by
their talents and their probity, erecled while
he was yet living. His right foot is placed on
the ignoble front of F*'**j but as the public
xontempt has much disfigured the face of that
Zoilus, they would repair it in a manner that
fhall fhow all fenfelefs critics the fate that wilt
attend them. As they have not preferved the
portrait of that fcribler, who wrote a periodi-
cal work for bread ; they want to know the
head of what bafe, envious, and malignant
animal they fhall put in its (lead ?

The Parifians have now juft notiofis of their

natural, civil, and political rights. They nd
longer ftupidly imagine that they have affign-
ed to another the property of their perfons and

fhall we ceafe to fee thofe nionfters, that turn away their

heads, and refufe him a morfe! of bread ! When .will

thofe very men ceafe to famim a city, by making the

provifions as dear as in a town that is befieged But the!

finances are cxhaufted, commerce in general finks, the

nation is harrafTed with miferiesj all fuffers, and the
manners of people confequently fuffer a horrid deprava-
tion. Alas! alas!

leffe&s;
$40 Tk* Gazettes.

cffe&s. They are ftill fond of bon mots, of

of fongs and vaudevills j but they have learn-
ed, at the fame time, to give a folidity to thofe

pleafantries.
i, a a
I turned and returned thefe loofe fheets ;

I ftill fought fomething curious. I looked for

the artide Vrerfailles, but my eager fight could
never find it. The mafter of the houfe. per-
ceived my embarrafment, and afked me what
I fought. The moft interrefting article in the

world, I replied;news from the place where

the court commonly refides ; in (hort, the ar-
ticle of Verfailles ; fo particular, fo various,

and interefting in the French gazette (a). Be

fmiled and faid ;
c
$ I know not what is become
of the French gazette, ours is that of truth,
and .is never guilty of the fin of omiflion.
Our monarch conftantly refides in the capital.
He is furrounded by the regards of the peo-

(j) How fevete a fcourge is printing, when it tells a

whole nation, that, on fuch a day, fuch a man put on at
court the habit of a flave ! That another dishonoured him-
felf with all the pomp imaginable ! And that a third had

at length obtamed the reward of his infamous conduce !

What a collection of infipidities ! What a groveling

wretciied ft y le ?

pic.
 1

77v Funeral Oration of a Peajant. 2 4.

pie. His ear is conftantly open to their cries.

He does not hide himfelf in a fort of defart,
furrounded by a herd of gilded (laves. He
refidcs in the center of his dominions, as the
fun in the center of the univerfe. That, more-
ever, is a bridle that holds him within the
courfe of his duty. He has no other way to
learn all that he ought to know, than by that
univerfal voice which pierces direftly to his

throne. To check that voice would be to re-

bel againft the laws ; for the monarch is made
for the people, and not the people for the mo-
narch.

CHAP. XVI.

The Funeral Oration of a Pea/ant.

CURIOUS to fee what was become of that

Verfailles, where I had formerly beheld
on one fide, the fplendor of a king in the
higheft degree of oftentation ; and on the
other, a race of clerks, infolent fcribblers, ex-
tending their impertinent idlenefs to the high-
eft degree poffible. I dreamt, that like Jo-
fhua, I flopped the courfe of the fun, as it

Vol. II. M was

 24,2 The Funeral Oration of a Pea/ant.

was haftily'declining ; it flood ftill at my prayer,

as at that of the Jewifli general ; and my in-
tention was, I think, lefs criminal than his.

I was on the road in a carriage, that was not

a pot-de chambre (a). Pafiing by a village I
few a company of peafants, their eyes dejefted

and wet with tears, who were entering a tem-

ple. The fight ftruck me ; I ordered the car-
riage to flop, and followed them in. I faw in
the middle of the temple the corpfe of an olcj

man, in the habit of a peafant, whofe white

hairs hung down to the ground. The pallor
of the village mounted a fmall eminence, and
faid ;

4<
My fellow countrymen,
" THE man you here fee was for ninety
" years a benefadtor to mankind. He was the
" fori of a hufbaridman, and in infancy hia
** feeble hands attempted to guide the plough.
" As fo'on as his legs could fuppcrrt him, he
** followed his father in the furrows. When
(a) This is the name given to the hackney coaches that
go between Paris and the court. They are commonly
filled with valets, that go to Versailles in feârcb of plun-
der, and may therefore properly be faid to carry the
dregis of France.
4i years
I
 The Funeral Oration of a Peafant. 243
u years had given him that ftrength for which
" he long wifhed, he faid to his father, Ceafe
" from your labours : and from that time, each
" rifing fun has feen him till the ground»
<c
fow, plant, and reap the harveft. He has

y cultivated more than two thoufand acres of

" frefh land. He has planted the vine in all

u the country round about and to him you ;

u owe thofc. fruit-trees that nouiifli your village,

"and afford you fhelter from the fun. It was
u not avarice that made him unwearied in his
'< labours ; no, it was the love of induftry for
€<
which he was wont to fay, man was born*
11
and the great and facred belief that God
" regarded him when cultivating his lands for
<c
tjie nqurifhment of his children.

" He married, and had twenty-five chiî-

" dren. He formed them all to labour and
u to virtue, and they have, all maintained an
" unblemifhpd character. He has taken care
"to marry them properly, and led them, vvith
«c
a fmiling afpeft, to the altar. All his grand-
" children have been brought up in his houfe,;
" and you know what a pure, unalterable joy
u dwells upon their countenances. All thefc
M2 u brethren
 244 The Funeral Oration of a Ptafant.

44
brethren love one another, becaufe he loved
44
them, and made them fee what pleafure he
44
found in loving them.

f
i
On days of rejoicing, he was the firft to
il
found the rural inftruments ; and his looks,
44
his voice, and geflure, you know, were the
*4
fignals for univerfal mirth. You cannot but
44
remember his gaiety, the lively efFecl; of a
44
peaceful mind, and his fpeeches full of fenie
44
and wit -, for he had the gift of exercifing
14
an ingenious raillery without giving offence*
44
He cherifhed order, from an internal fenfe
*4
he had of virtue. Whom has he ever re-
44 fufed to ferve ? When did he mow him-
44
felf unconcerned at public or private mif-
44
fortunes? When was he indifferent in his
44
country's ca*ufe ? His heart was devoted to
iC
it; in his conversation he conftantly wifhed
44
for its profperity.

44
When age had bent his body, andhia
44
legs trembled under him, you have feen him
4<
mount to the fummit of a bill, and givelef-
44
fons of experience to the young hufbandmen.
4
His memory was the faithful depofitory
44
"of obfervatiôns made during the courfe of
44
four-
 'The Funeral Oration of à Pea/ant. 245
" fourfcore fucceflive years, on the changes of
c«
the lèverai feafons. Such a tree, planted by
« his hand, in fuch a year, recalled to his me-
" mory the favour or the wrath of heaven. He
" had by heart what other men forget, the
" fruitful harvefts, the deaths and legacies to
<c
the poor. He feemed to be endowed with
<c
a prophetic fpirit, and when he meditated
Sf by the light of the moon, he knew with
" what feeds to enrich his garden. The even-
" ing before his death hefaid, My children, I
ct
am drawing nigh to that Being, who is the
M Author of all good, whom I have always
" adored, and in whom I truft. To-morrow
ic
prune your pear-trees, and at the fetting of
" the fun, bury me at the head of my grounds.

<c
You are now, children, going to place
a him there, and ought to imitate his exam-
r pie. But, before you inter thefe white
<c
hairs, which have fo long attracted refpect,
" behold with reverence his hardened hands ;
<c
behold the honourable marks of his long la-
" bours."

The orator then held up one of his cold

hands. It had acquired twice the ufual fize by
continual labour, arid feemed to be invulner-
able
246 Ver/ailles

able to the paint of the briar, or the edges of tbp

Aim. He then refpeftfully kifled the hand*
and all the company followed his example.

His children bore him to the grave on three

fheaves of corn, and buried him as he had de-
fired, placing on his grave, his hedging-bill,
his fpade, and a plow-fhare.

Ah ! I cried, if thofe men celebrated by

Bofluet, Fiechier, Mafcaron, and Neuville, had
the hundredth part of the virtue of this villager*
I would pardon them their pompous and futile

eloquence.

CHAP. XVIL
VERSAILLES.
Arrived at Verfailks, and looked round
I for that fuperb palace, from whence iffued

the deftiny of many nations. What wa*

my furprife ! I could perceive nothing but
nuns, gaping walls, and mutilated ftatucs ;

feme porticos, half demolished, afforded a con*

fufedideaof its ancient magnificence. As I

walked over thefe ruins, I faw an old man fit-

ting upon the capital of a column. Alas! I

faid to him, what is become of this vaft palace ?

—"It
 Verfailks* ï'$[

—« It is fallen.''— How ?—" It was crufhed

" by its own weight. A man in his impatient
u pride would have here forced nature. He
u haftily heaped buildings upon buildings;
" greedy of gratifying his capricious will, he
" harrafled his fubjefts ; all the wealth of the
u nation was here (wallowed up ; here flowed
u a ftream of tears to compofc thofe refervoirs
c<
of which there are now no traces. Behold all
" that remains of that colpffus which a million
u of hands erected with fo much painful
<c
1-abour. The foundations of this palace were
c<
laid in iniquity; it was an image of the
<4
wretched greatnefs of him that built it (#)•
C
V The kings, his fucceiTors, were obliged to

(a) We magnify thofe pompous fpec"lacles given to tire

Roman people ; and from them we would infer the gran-

deur of that empire ; but it was wretched when it began

to exhibit thofe faftoous (hews, in which the fruits of their
victories were ditfipated with prodigality. Who built.
Cheir circufles, their theatres, their baths i
1
Who dug
thofe artificial lakes, where a whole fleet was exercifed as
inopenfea? Thofe crowned monfters, whôfe tyrannic
pride crufhed one half of the people to divert the other*:
The enormous boafted pyramids of Egfpt are nothing-
more than monuments of defpotifm. Republics may con-
ftruc! â<Jueduc"rs, canals, highways, and public places j but
every palace that is ereéhd-by an arbitrary moriarch,
forms the foundation of an approaching calamity.
u fly
 248 Ver/ailles.

" fiy from it, left they fhould be crufhed by

" its fall. O, may thefe ruins cry aloud to all
i(
fovercjgns ; that they who abufe a momen-
<c power, only difcover their weaknefs to
tary
c<
future generations " —
At thefe words, he
fced a flood of tears, and turned his eyes to
heaven with a mournful, repenting look. Why
do you weep? I fajd. All the world is happy,
and thefe ruins by no means declare any
public calamity. He raifed his voice and faid :

" Oh, how wretched is my fate! Know that I

w am Lewis XIV. who built this rueful palace.
<c The Divine Juftice has again allumined the

" torch of my days, to make me contemplate

€<
more nearly my deplorable enterprize. How
« tranfient are the moments of pride! I mud
<c
now and for ever weep. O, that I had but
u known (a) " I was going to afk him a
queftion, when one of the adders, with which
this place fwarmed, darted from a broken co-

lumn, flung me on the neck, and I waked.

(a) Placed in the middle of Europe, commanding the
ocean, and by the long extent and winding of its.coafts
over the feas of Flanders, Spain, and Germany, communi-
cating with the Mediterranean, &c. what a kingdom is

France! and what people feem to have more right to be

happy I

THE EKD.