The Gregg Press Science Fiction Series
David G. Hartwell, Editor
Memoirs of the Year
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With a New Introduction by
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GREGG PRESS
A DIVISION OF G. K. HALL & CO., BOSTON, 1977
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:
This is a complete photographic reprint of a work rst Published
in Philadelphia by Thomas Dobson in 1795. The trlm s1ze of the
original hardcover edition was 4 by 61/2 inches.
Introduction copyright © 1977 by G.K. Hall & Co.
Frontispiece illustration by Richard Powers
Printed on permanent/durable acid free paper and bound in the
United States of America.
Republished in 1977 by Gregg Press, A Division of G. K. Hall
& Co., 70 Lincoln Street, Boston, Massachusetts, 02111.
First Printing, June 1977
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
Mercier, Louis Sébastien, 1740 1814.
Memoirs of the year 2500.
(The Gregg Press science ction series)
Translation of L an deux mille quatre cent
quarante. .
Reprint of the 1795 ed. prmted by T. Dobson,
Philadelphia.
I.Title.
[PZ3.M536Me10] [PQ2007.M6J 843 .6 77-6804
ISBN 0-8398-2380-0
Introduction
1LITERARY GENRES the utopia, for example are sets of
conventions authors adopt in writing. Within these conven-
tions, a text has its own freedom, but some works, by changing
conventions, extend the possibilities within a genre. Louis-
Sébastien Mercier s Mémoires de l An 2440 (1770)1 did this.
Before Mercier, utopias had been located in space, at some
distant place on earth, or on an island found by sea voyagers
blown off course. But Mercier put his utopia at an exact date in
the future, in Paris, a place familiar to all. The change in one
convention necessitated a change in another, the means of get-
ting there. Instead of travelling by foot or on ship, the narrator
travels in a dream, for Mercier knew no other way to travel
through time, and the dream voyage had been a convention of
medieval allegorical literature.
The reason for this change lies in the slow normalization and
acceptance, in the 17th and 18th centuries in England and
Europe, of the idea of human progress. To Condorcet, for
example, in the Esquisse d un Tableau Historique du Progrés
de l Esprit Humain (1793 94), history was a tale of ever more
perfect societies and ideas, of steady upward evolution. But
conceptions like Condorcet s had not always been in the air. To
the Greeks, there was no linear progress, only cycles of birth,
growth, and decline, as in organic nature. Plato s Republic may
have been the progenitor of all utopias, but it had few of the
genre s conventions, for there is no claim made that its ideal
state exists anywhere but in the minds of those engaged in the
vi MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 2500
dialogue, or in the world of pure forms. No journey can be
made, since it is impossible to reach the ideal from the real
world anyhow, unless and this is said with some irony
philosophers become kings. Had Plato told of a journey to the
ideal state, we might have a utopia. Atlantis, described in the
Critias, is the closest we come to one but no voyager ever
went there, and all we know of it is through myth. Atlantis, an
island that sank into the sea at the height of its perfection,
reminded the Greeks that the past had been better than the
present, that history was in a phase of decline.
In the 17th century, we have Sir Francis Bacon s New Atlan-
tis (1624), the rst utopian society intended as a blueprint for
change: Bensalem, where scientists are the philosopher kings.
Not surprisingly, at the center of Bacon s philosophy is the idea
of upward linear progress, of a body of truth which men would
slowly build up by working together over the ages, of truths
that would dramatically improve man s life on earth. St.
Thomas More s Utopia (1516) on the other hand, was not
meant as a blueprint for change; while its features implicitly
criticize 16th-century European society, More wished that men
would make changes in their present lives, if they could, and in
the light of utopian ideals rather than in exact imitation of
them. Still, both Bacon and More placed their utopias rmly in
the present, albeit in remote places.
With Mercier, the possibility that an utopia could be placed
in the future became a part of the genre. Edward Bellamy
would write Looking Backward (1888) in the belief that the
Golden Age lies before us and not behind us, and that it is not
far away. 2 And then George Orwell would satirize the belief
in progress and in human perfectibility in 1984 (1949), an
antiutopia, or dystopia._
L An 2440 bears on its title page a quotation from Leibniz
that captures the faith in progress: Le temps présent est gros
de l avenir ( The present is pregnant with the future ). And
the Paris into which the narrator awakens delights him, as it
would have delighted the 18th century philosophes, its intel-
lectual progenitors, as the realization of their fondest hopes for
mankind. For Paris in 2440 is truly the heavenly city realized
on earth. As the narrator walks about it with his guide, he
observes a society which, from its public buildings to its mar-
Introduction
vii
ketplace, from its prisons to its churches, in its customs, laws,
and everyday practices, is the embodiment of those rational
ideals an optimistic age had formulated.
Mercier s title is paradoxical, for the mémoire is usually
about the past. A walk around Paris, an evening s dinner and
theatre, the reading of the newspapers these are the ele-
ments of the travel narrative, but here is a dream voyage. Yet
Mercier s dream has brought him into such a relationship with
the future that he can write about it as if it were the past
which in fact it is, having already been experienced. The
paradox is only a seeming one.
Both worlds the framing world in which a man falls asleep,
dreams, and wakes up, and the world inside the dream, the
Paris of the future are very real worlds. They are not fantasy:
even in the dream everything seems naturalistic. The 700-
year-old man attracts a great deal of comment until a man of
letters (later to be his guide) jokingly suggests that the visitor
may have found the philosopher s stone, and quiets the crowd s
nderr entg utfof the two worlds, the present is the drearier;
e wor o e uture has a or stal sh '
wish ful lled in dream. y arpneSS, the Clarlty 0f
Yet in spite of the Age of Reason avor of its future, L An
2440 IS, in its frame and in many of its most striking passages
a Romantic work. The sleeper awakens in a world happier than
the present, and at the end is expelled from his paradise by a
snake sbite. He tells us in the Introduction that he prefers
escape Into dreams over waiting out the wearisome processes
of history, and while he may plead for progress, he is dismayed
by 1ts pace: 0 my dear countrymen, whom I have so often
heard groan under that load of abuses, of which we are wearied
w1th complaining, when will our dreams be realized? Let us
then sleep on; for in that must we place our felicity. 3 Events
around him only weaken his faith in progress. The Paris seen
1n his dream is but a wish.
Rather than the dreamer s vision being realized, Paris is
more likely to vanish entirely, like the great cities of past
01v1lizatlons. Louis XIV, found in tears amidst the ruins of
Versallles, cries, The Divine Justice has again illumined the
torch of my days, to make me contemplate more nearly my
deplorable enterprise. How transient are the moments of
viii MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 2500
pride! (p.360). The world will not progress; all empires, over
man and nature, will collapse. Man s efforts will end in a catas-
trophe that destroys all civilization, and rather than shining
on a utopian city, the narrator says, the sun is more like to
cast a gloomy light on a formless mass of ashes, and of ruins
(p. xi).
Mercier makes clear the source of this Romanticism: the
English. A set piece in L An 2440, an imitation of Edward
Young s Night Thoughts, has the narrator wander into a
graveyard at night. During the sudden dark caused by an
eclipse of the moon, he stumbles into an open grave: I seemed
to hear the voice of all the dead that hailed my arrival; an icy
trembling seized me; a cold sweat came over me; I sunk into a
lethargic slumber (p. 165). He asks himself why he did not die
in that peaceful state, and cries out that the future life is pref-
erable to the present. But just then the moon comes out of
eclipse, and he revives, and climbs out of the grave.
Is this despair only the narrator s, an overlay, or is it Mer-
cier s own? Does it seriously question the faith that 1e temps
présent est gros de l avenir ? The answer does not lie in some
telling aspect of characterization within the work. We know
that the narrator is a lover of the English: he admires their
rationality and perhaps their Puritan revolution. The guide,
a "man of letters, seems faceless, 0n the other hand; his pre-
dominant attitudes are profound admiration of his own age,
pity for those who suffered the wrongs of the past, and some
kindness for his visitor.
What is Mercier s attitude toward progress, if distinct from
the narrator s or the guide s, in L An 2440? He rarely address-
es the reader directly. The Epistle Dedicatory is addressed
to the future, and the whole account of the vision is spoken by
the narrator t0 the intruder who has awakened him from his
dream. He recounts the previous night s conversation with an
Englishman, paraphrasing the man s criticisms of French soci-
ety. The rest of the narrative is the dream-voyage. When
Mercier does address the reader directly, it is either in the
Introduction, as above, in Which he says he prefers dreaming
over a life of suffering in the real world, or in the footnotes,
which lash out at contemporary abuses in anger, directly and
topically. Thus does Mercier save his own voice for two occa-
Introduction ix
sions: for direct social criticism, or for a Romantic world-
weariness similar to but less intense than the dream vision
frame. In the former, belief in progress is a living faith' in the
latter, that faith is tempered with impatience anti even
thorough despair. They are contradictory. Which is Mercier?
Indeed, between 18th-century optimism and Romantic wea-
riness and catastrophism, Mercier would never walk an en-
tirely straight path. At Qne point, he seems nally to have
recohciled the poet s role to a shaken faith in progress as he
predicts the ruin of Paris:
Escape, .my book, escape whether the ames or the hordes; tell future
geheratlons what Paris was; and say that I ful lled my duty as a
Citizen, that I did not let go by in silence the secret poisons that bring
citles into the throes of sickness, and soon to their death convulsions.4
His social commitment will serve no real purpose in the face of
future destruction, but it is a simple duty that he paints Paris
as it was, and as it could be.
Andyet, later in his life, Mercier claimed with unambiva-
lent prlde that L An 2440 had predicted and perhaps aided the
Revolution. He speaks of his solace in having been, from the
rst moment of his career, the herald, friend, and collaborator
of the Revolution, and of his belief that posterity Will bene t
from the present sufferings of France:
It is that feeling which, from the rst line ofRéve s il en futjamais to
the last line of Le Nouveau Paris, has sustained, encouraged and
forti ed the author, and has caused him not to abandon his peh ex-
cept 1n the dark night of the dungeon; and that in fact has given
him the epitaph that he engraves now on his tomb, and hopes will
become that of his contemporaries:
Men of all lands, envy my fate;
Born a subject, I die free and a republican.5
Here, Mercier sees the chain of works from L An 2440 through
Tableau de Paris (1781 1790) and Le Nouveau Paris (1799
l800) as being linked by the goal of social criticism, of creat-
lng blueprints for change, goads to action. As the portrayer
of the society around him, he can serve as its conscience
recalllng to memory that which must be changed; if he paints
x
MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 2500
more misery than happiness, it is because his portrait is faith-
ful. The visionary who returns from a dream prophesies rev-
olution and spurs it by portraying a better world to serve as a
model for change in this one.
These contradictions in Mercier s view of his role as an au-
thor underlie L An 2440, and were never entirely resolved. But
the full answer to the question of Mercier s belief in human
progress does not lie in any one work or even in them all;
rather, it lies in both the works and in the age, in the interac-
tion between him and his times. For almost all of his writing,
which spanned 50 years, was allied in some way with his poli-
tics. He produced essays and treatises, over 30 plays, many
volumes of sketches of Paris, and a dictionary of neologisms.
On the eve of the Revolution he chose self-imposed exile in
Switzerland to continue publishing the 12 volumes of his
sketches of Paris, which had been criticized as subversive.
When he returned, he became an editor of Annales pa-
triotiques, a journal which propagated revolutionary ideas.
. When Louis-Sébastien Mercier was born in Paris, in 1740,
France was ruled by Louis XV; when he died there, in 1814, it
was the age of Napoleon. His power as an author ourished
with the coming of the Revolution. He was of the bourgeoisie,
the Third Estate, the class that supplied the revolution with
leadership and ideas; his father, Jean-Louis, was a prosperous
armurier, a furbisher of arms. It would not have been unusual,
a half century earlier, had he attempted to ally himself
through literary success with the aristocracy. Instead, Mercier
was a revolutionary in his writing and in his politics. He was
deputy from Seine-et-Oise to the Convention, a moderate
Girondin, one who opposed the killing of Louis XVI. He was
sent to prison for his criticism of the Montagne, but later sat on
the Counseil des Cinq-Cents. Mercier remained a républicain
under the Empire, taking up the teaching profession that he
had abandoned during his youth.
His mother was Elizabeth-Andrée Le Pas, the daughter of a
wealthy merchant. A brother, Charles-André, was born shortly
after Louis Sébastien; another died in infancy. When Mercier
was three his mother died, leaving his father a widow for the
second time; soon, however, he acquired a stepmother and half
sister. Mercier was usually silent about his family life, but we
Introduction xi
know he had a wife and three daughters, and he speaks of his
brother, Charles-André, in terms of warmest affection in the
dedication of one of his early essays.
His education was careful and expensive. Monsieur Cupis
his danc1ng teacher, was the object of an early satire' here
Mercier speaks of the genesis of his vocation as an author.
When he came to give me my rst minuet lesson, he was sixty and I
was ten, and I was as tall as he was. He took out a little pocket violin,
held out his arm, and made me make a leg; but instead of teaching me
to dance, he taught me to laugh . . . . That evening, I described him
from top to bottom to my friends; without him, I would never have
been an author.6
At the age of 20 he was a member of a group of young lit-
térateufs at the College des Quatre Nations at the University
of Paris, and began his literary career by writing a group of
hérozdes, Ovidian imitations, a popular form at the time (for
example, Hécube d Phyrrus, 1760). These have not attained the
immortahty which Mercier s manuscript couplet, reported by
the sympathetic biographer, Léon Béclard 1d .
himself attributed to them: wou Imply he
Demosthenes, I think, was the son of an armorer,
And although my name is common, I rhyme in steel.7
He also tried essays and translations and became for a time
professor of rhetoric at the College of Bordeaux. When he re-
turned to Paris in 1767 he published a play, L Homme sau-
vagc, about the inhabitants of the new world; in 1768 Les
songes philosophiques appeared; and in 1769, Les contes
morouat all evidence of his immersion in the ideas and forms
of h1s t11ne.L Homme sauvage was in uenced by Rousseau and
the Abbe Prévost, and Les songes is an optimistic, almost re-
ligiousappreciation of philosophy, a collection of dreams often
allegorlcal, on such subjects as tyranny, optimism, and a happy
world, all of which show an almost limitless belief in human
perfectibllity. Based in a form made popular by Marmontel
Les contes moraux offers stories designed to paint virtue in
attractlve colors and Vice in disagreeable ones. But even the
sympathetic Béclard writes that although by the age of 30
xii MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 2500
Mercier had published more than a dozen works, they are of no
interest other than to shed light on what was to come.
Mercier s best subjects were the heirs of M. Cupis: the
people around him and his society. His most important works
are the Mémoires de l an 2440: réve s il en fut jamais (1770),
here reprinted in its English translation as Memoirs of the
Year 2500; his theory of drame and his plays; and the many
volumes of Tableau de Paris, continued into the time of the
Revolution in Le Nouveau Paris. Three of these, L An 2440,
Tableau and Le Nouveau Paris, show the evolution of his ideas
of progress.
In L An 2440, Mercier began to put his strongest literary
skills to work. All is Vivid, all thoroughly felt in his dreamt
future world. The Visitor notes rst the general demeanor of
the Parisians, their attitudes towards one another. They are at
peace with each other and with themselves. Mercier gives us
an acute sense of the city as the microcosm of civilized society,
and Paris as the premier of cities. Thus, Paris is the world, and
the Paris of 2440 is the new world, the world of the future.8
In this future, traf c progresses smoothly because the car-
riages go in one direction on one side of the street; on the
opposite, in the other. The innovation is symbolic: there is no
ghting for precedence, and men are happier because of ra-
tional planning. The sovereign goes among the people and is
well loved, like Henry IV. Clothes are simple, not ornate 0r
cumbersome, and not worn as a show of pride. Indeed, people
seem purged of vanity as well as of anger and aggression. A
simple hat, embroidered with the name of its wearer, is enough
to reward the outstanding citizen. Gone are the aristocracy s
extravagances and jealous ghting for rank.
Paris has a new face: the Pont Neuf has been renamed to
honor Henry IV, and the public buildings centered around it,
in their dignity and solemnity, testify to a well-planned gov-
ernment. The houses of the poor that had disgraced the bridges
have vanished, as has the Bastille; on its ruins stands a temple
to Clemency. Mercier s College des Quatre Nations has been
redesigned: modern languages have replaced the ancient, his-
tory is banned, poetry allowed only in the later years, and
science begun early. At the Hospital for Inoculations, doctors
practice the art of preserving health with natural remedies
Introduction
...
xm
and teach temperate living. A legal code has been written by
men of ability, who, inspired by a love for the human race
have undertaken an entire reformulation of the laws. Punish:
merits now t crimes: a mere robber is not put to death' rather
criminals are exposed in fetters and their crimes written on a
sign aboye them to instruct the public in the outcome of such
wrongdomgs.
Religion is rational. Men worship in a temple whose dome is
not stone, but of the clearest glass, so that nature s many as-
pects may remind worshipers of the Supreme Being s creative
power. The prelates, along with the ministers of peace men
whose greatest motivation is to become useful members of
soc1ety serve the public in tasks from the most menial to the
most heroic.
The Communion of the Two In nites is rational theology s
ceremony of baptism: when a young man has been observed to
have reached maturity of mind, he is taken to an observatory
where, through a telescope and then through a microscope he
communes with the in nite heavens above and the in nite
worlds below. The vastness of creation stretches before him
and he IS cured of all sinful ambition, pride, and of all the petty
hatreds they engender. Young man, behold the God of the
universe IS the command, and he looks through a telescope
the moral cannon that has lain in ruins all those superstitions
and phantasms that tormented the human race (p. 1 13) Then
he looks through a microscope and prays, Feeble beings as
we are, placed between two in nities, oppressed on every side
by the force of divine greatness, let us adore in silence the same
hand that has Illumined so many suns and impressed with life
these imperceptible atoms (p. 115).
Are there atheists in this society? No, his guide explains if
therewere, they would be quickly put through a course in
experlmental physics, a science whose laws are so surprising
so remote, and at the same time so simple, that once they are
known, he who would deny an intelligent Creator would be
regarded as a stupid wretch, a being totally perverse and a
causelof mourning to the whole nation.
Polltics and economies are just and rational. An heroic
avenger, to whom there is a monument in the city has brought
llberty to the whole world, restoring to oppressed men of all
xiv MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 2500
nations the unalienable rights they had held in the state of
nature. In economics, the rights of the consumer and the pro-
ducer are balanced by the state; public granaries store excess
grain; labor has no longer an ugly and forbidding aspect, as it
no longer resembles slavery; a gentle voice invites them [the
peasants] to their duty, and all becomes easy, even agreeable
(p. 137). There is no class of idle citizens which impedes the
health of the state: each does work; each has time for amuse-
ment; and no one rank is crushed to support another.
In describing theatres, the guide sets forth ideas that Mer-
cier would later promulgate in his essay on drame:9 the stage
is a public school of taste and morality, serves and is supported
by the state. Dramatists improve human nature by represent-
ing Virtue. The two plays the visitor sees are about the fall of
Charles I and the avenging Cromwell, and another about
Henry IV, who is incessantly revered. Prelates attend the
theatre, for it teaches virtue, not vice, and upon leaving, no
prostitutes accost the theatregoer.
In the King s library, culture has been sifted and reduced to
its essentials. All those authors who bury their thoughts under
a mass of words have been burned, along with those judged
frivolous, useless, or dangerous. Among the Greeks, Homer,
Sophocles, Euripides, Demosthenes, Plato, and Plutarch
remain Herodotus, Sappho, Anacreon, and Aristophanes
have perished in ames. Among the Latins are Virgil, Pliny,
and Livy Lucretius is gone. Among the English, Milton,
Shakespeare, Pope, Young, and Richardson; the Italians, Tas
so; the French, Descartes, Charron, and Montaigne
Malebranche, Nicole, Arnauld, and Bourdaloue, as well as
Bossuet, are burned. Corneille, Racine, and Moliere are saved,
but their commentators burned, and of Rousseau only his epis-
tles and allegories remain. Voltaire is much reduced, and the
Encyclopédie is done on a different plan, with the arts and
sciences preserved intact instead of being reduced to entries as
in a dictionary.
The government is a constitutional monarchy. The king
watches over the execution of the laws, but the legislative
power is lodged in the assembled states. The senate adminis-
ters, and is responsible to the king; the king and senate are
responsible to the assembled states, which govern by majority
Introduction xv
vote and are elected every two years. There
cachet (writs by which a prisoner is held withbiglgriztlgrefhge
are ranked With torture. We have conciliated that which
seemed almost incompatible, the good of the nation with that
if Erisjll ll'lduflls (p. 2(38). People are not oppressed with taxes
11 In a . . . . ,
more. g y p y a tieth of their Income, and sometlmes give
Marriage customs are reformed. Dowri '
fathers are not impoverished by their Eiggt iigxfhgorhgit
rlages are rnade irrespective of nancial gain. Thus women
depend entirely on their husbands for nances as well as to
their status. They have no desire other than to be wives an;
mothers, and are thoroughly faithful and obedient. The classes
may mix 1n marrlage, for love alone is the basis for vows
Divorces are allowed, for the reason that people marry to b.
happy and should not remain so if the union is a cause 06f3
unhappiness. Women function as the bearers of the ideals of
the soc1ety.: a mother instructs her son in piety when he i
?Ioungc,i tilhng him that there is one Almighty Being Who ha:
loireléeHis irirfutigg that He is good, and that He cares for and
In the evening, the visitor has dinner with '
ty, gaiety, a decent familiarity, dilated the heailenlélgiowlezeih
the front of every guest (p. 324). No one covets anyone else
food, nor IS env10us of another s place at the table 10 S
Readlng the gazettes after the theatre, the Visitor scans the
news of the world. China has become less tyrannical' th
people are not as slothful and fraudulent as they once had be e
for the greatest. pains have been taken to educate them Th:n
have been inspired with notions of honor; they are no Iongei
Erushed by an oppressive upper class; and they revere Con-
nelus. Japan 1s opened to trade, and suicide is no lon er co
s1dered a.v1rtue. In Persia, the sacred books are readgand r111-
mentlon 1s made of warlike Omar or Ali. And from Tahiti iii
ghe E gth Seas: Bougainville, it is recalled, had brought back a
i:16ides): ilsallggdregtviscth hlm: Bu}:Z the journal reads (a passage
_ e warnlng 18 people along similar 1i )
a Frenchman dec1ded not to return to Fran ' h ' ' Iles ,
stayed to warn the Tahitians of the d 06 Wlt hls Shlp but
pose to their civilization, when, with ihgiarrigiii ?h:rtl:egoaiig
xvi MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 2500
vengeance would take the place of love. The Tahitians reacted
by electing the Frenchman their leader, and killed anyone who
came from Europe. Only recently they decided that Europe is
no longer ambitious to invade them and allowed Visitors. Mer-
cier combines the starkest prejudice in his attitudes towards
the East, where a complete reversal is necessary to gain prog-
ress, with the belief that European civilization is corrupt and
would destroy the South Sea paradise where reign the man-
ners of a golden age (p. 338).
His attitude towards the West is that slow progress will in-
evitably work through existing institutions. In Mexico Mon-
tezuma s descendants rule. The Americas are governed by
separate monarchs as separate nations in a manner similar to
the German empire. In Russia, Catherine the Great, who had
patronized Diderot, is venerated as a great lawgiver who made
the land prosper; and in Rome, the Pope is engaged in writing a
set of rational beliefs and rules to replace the Catholic religion.
London is vastly expanded; Paris is no longer a city of luxury
for the few, but of moderate plenty for the many.
Science in Mercier s utopia is heavily in uenced by Bacon s
New Atlantis. The King s Cabinet is a vast museum of nature
in the center of which is a capacious dome which contains busts
of inventors of such useful objects as the plane, the pulley, the
saw. Four wings radiate outwards: the rst holds all the vege
table kingdom, cedar to hyssop; the second, the kingdom of air
animals, from the eagle to the y; the third, land animals, from
the elephant to the ant; and the fourth, water animals, from
the whale to the gudgeon. In the middle of the dome are the
sports of nature, monsters of every kind. As had Bacon, the
guide speaks of the secrets revealed in nature s anomalies:
For Nature, the moment she abandons her ordinary laws,
discovers an intelligence still more profound than when she
adheres strictly to them (p. 215). On all sides, long beds of
earth reveal its interior strata. At an optical cabinet a per-
petually changing scene passes in front of the viewer: land-
scapes, prospects, palaces, rainbows, meteors; a cabinet of
sounds imitates all the wild creatures. Scientists have
gathered medicinal agents from the earth, experimented with
them and found a cure for the plague. They have made arti
cial torrents and cataracts that produce the effect of great
Introduction xvii
motion; they have made aromatic baths to rejuvenate the
bodies of those grown rigid with age. They have recovered the
art of embalming, made malleable glass, and found the Tyrean
purple.11
The rational and progressive world Mercier s narrator en-
counters in L An 2440 bears little resemblance to the 18th-
century world that Mercier observed and described in Tableau
de Paris (Sketches ofParis), whose rst volumes were published
anonymously beginning in 1781.12 Aptly described by one
translator as the waiting city, Paris in Tableau is a city
which stands in stark contrast, in every way, with the Paris of
2440. Streets are crowded, dirty, and poorly lit at night' dress
is extravagant and uncomfortable; modes of fashion are as out-
landlsh as they are eeting; and Parisians are, careworn and
troubled. The aristocracy plagues the shopkeepers with unpaid
bills, and shopkeepers in turn overcharge their customers.
B1cetre, a hospltal and prison, is a
horrible ulcer on. the body politic; large, deep, and oozing, that you
cannot look at Without turning away. From the air of the place that
you smell from half a mlle away, everything tells you that you are
approaching a place of forcible detainment a refu e f '
degradation, of misfortune.13 g 0 mISery, Of
La Bastille is the state prison; Charenton, the one for the in-
sane; Salnt-Lazare; the Saltpetriere for women would it not
be better for the public if detention in one of these did not
depend upon the will of one magistrate alone?
Mer'c1er,.in a footnote in L An 2440, had described an actual
ward 1n Blcétre where 500 men were con ned together and
food brought to them on the point of a bayonet. He remarks in
Le'Tableau that he may have had a part in rousing the public
to 1ts horrors, for it no longer existed in 1781.
Doctors are no better than Moliere s portraits of them
above argument and reason, clouded in a protective veil of
professional mystery, they dispense professional optimism
hand In hand w1th medical theories from the Dark Ages.
The Font Neuf is the heart of the city. Recruiters for the
army assault all young men who pass by; oranges and lemons
xviii MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 2500
are hawked in the middle of the bridge. An Englishman once,
on a bet, walked the Pont Neuf for two hours crying New
six-franc écus for twenty sous! but no one bought; some
examined them and declared them to be false; most walked on,
with the disdainful smiles of those above such trickery.
The Paris of Tableau is a teeming melange of classes,
riddled with inequities and ripe for revolution:
Out of the same window, one can see the man who makes shoes to
have bread, and the man who makes clothes to have shoes, and the
man who, having both shoes and clothes, torments himself over hav-
ing the wherewithal to buy a painting. One sees the butcher and the
apothecary, the midwife and the gravedigger, the blacksmith and the
jeweller, all who work to go, in turn, to the butcher, the apothecary,
the midwife, and the wineseller.14
Civil government is corrupt. The police are either spies
commissioned to report on particular people, or those who do
the work of arrest and pursuit. Parisians are ignorant of any
way of life that is better, so the king rules as he pleases, and
the people have a short memory for abuses. They admire the
liberty of Americans, but never think of civil war to acquire it
for themselves. Mercier is calling for revolution.
The stage lacks seriousness; tragedy and comedy are corrupt
and decadent, and the Comédie Italienne, chartered to present
moral plays, has descended into vaudeville.
The College des Quatre Nations is the most handsome, rich,
and populous of the colleges in the University of Paris, but at
the same time the poorest in capable professors and well-
taught students. In the library, half the books are religious
polemics; Racine and Corneille only recently appeared there,
and a student wishing to read modern literature would be
soundly disappointed.
Marriages are made for money, and women, once sacri ced
on that altar, become outrageous coquettes who think nothing
of breaking their vows; otherwise, they remain unmarried, liv-
ing with sisters or friends on annuities bought with their
dowries.
Paris is a place of stark contradictions vast luxury in the
face of grinding poverty, exploitation and death; desperate
boredom among the rich and crushing dejection among the
Introduction
.
xzx
poor it is the home of a multitude of lives, all perversions of
the. noble poss1b111tles of human nature caused by a corrupt
scolety.
In 1789 came the Revolution that Mercier had anticipated
and he chronicled it in his next work, Paris pendant la revolu:
tzon; ou, le nouveau Paris (Paris During the Revolution' or The
New Pans, 1789 1798). Intended as a supplement to Tab-
leau, it is less discursive and more condensed, as much a his-
tory of events as a portrait of social life; it is also more direct in
its political opinions.
But is this New Paris any closer to the Paris of 2440? The
excesses of terror have only replaced the excesses of wealth
Mercier paints the guillotining of Louis XVI as the death
of a klng who had betrayed his nation, who would not be the
ruler of a freepeople, who had conspired to bring foreigners
onto Freneh s011 to regain his despotic power. He deserved to
die, but stlll he is a half god in the eyes of many, especially the
potentates of Europe, and his death will be cause for quarrel
w1th France. At the guillotine, as his blood runs, the cries of
8009 armed men ring in the air. The executioner sells packets
of his halr; someone buys the ribbon that held it everyone
carrles off some bloody fragment, marching off as, if coming
away from a party. The thirst for blood is unquenchable. Even
those who are about to die feel it: one day two young girls
conv1cted of assassination are guillotined, and they go to their
deaths as 1f to a festival, singing a bawdy song while the crowd
applauds.
D1vorce is now legal, as it had been in L An 2440 after an
absence of s1x months from each other, either spouse may win a
divorce and be free to marry again without delay. Debauched
3:22;?31115 tanctll lu-nprincipledTmen satisfy their desires, their
en 8, elr avarice. '
vows or for proprieties, here is no longer any respect for
Paris is a city at war, full of the sound of drum
of blue uniforms. Instead of playing in the garderslsgfc ictlilEriligeilst
ch1ldrenmake patrols with sticks and paper grenadier s hats,
Citizen is on guard against citizen, trusting no one. Paper
money abounds, but the value of it changes so rapidly that
loans are not worth collecting. Parliament, clergy, and nobility
xx MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 2500
are gone, and there is no one to enforce civil order. Paris is ripe
for a dictator, a dictator who would bring on a long and terrible
con ict, against whom the people would be powerless.
As a result of these excesses, the slogans of the Revolution
lose moral weight: on a wall someone has written Fraternité
ou la mort ( Fraternity or death ); beneath this phrase
another has scrawled, Sois mon frere, ou je te tue ( Be my
brother or I will kill you ).
As conditions change, so does Mercier s tone. No longer the
painter of the vast tableau regarding his subject from a dis
tance, he has become shrill, journalistic, cynical and even more
direct. His opinions at the end of his life seem eccentric: he
opposes removing the remains of Descartes (whom he had once
eulogized) to the Pantheon, and he attacks Rousseau (whom he
had once edited). He writes a diatribe against the theories of
Copernicus and Newton, substituting outrageous theories of
his own, in obvious rebellion against the spirit of a classical
age that has passed, an age which had so deeply misled men
with its faith in progress.15
The same faith in progress, which had earlier led Mercier to
project his ideal society into an exact date in the future, made
the Revolution seem naive. It is not the slowness of progress
but the intractability of human nature that is the issue.
Louis-Sébastian Mercier never enjoyed a great reputation,
nor has posterity been willing to reverse the judgement.
Among his contemporaries, he was thought of as too proli c
( the mortal enemy of the blank page ), of having, with Réstif
de la Bretonne and Cubieres, formed a triumvirate of bad
taste. Nonetheless, he was acknowledged to have had some
in uence, and of having, now and then, written une belle
page. Among biographers, Charles Monselet classed him
among the forgotten and the despised, and Gustave Des-
noiresterres, introducing Tableau de Paris, only praised him
faintly for his ideas, for a utopia more ingenious than prac-
ticable. Léon Béclard wrote an extremely sympathetic biog
raphy, but its 796 pages cover only the rst 49 years of
Mercier s life, up to the Revolution; Béclard died before he
could complete the whole work.
Introduction xxi
Since then, Mercier has fared better.16 Among literary histo-
rians, he has received appreciation for certain aspects of his
work: W. W. Pusey has studied the in uence in Germany of his
plays and his theory of the drama, and H. Temple Patterson
and Henry Majewski have discussed him as a preromantic
Recently, Raymond Trousson, in a French edition of L Ari
2440, defends Mercier on the basis of his in uence on other
authors, even while he makes no attempt to reverse Mercier s
reputation as being prolix, diffuse and lacking in original
ideas; but Trousson does argue strongly for the importance of
L An 2440 as the rst dream Vision utopia located in time
rather than in place.
Mercier was not a truly great intellect nor an imaginative
writer. Perhaps this was because he found himself caught up in
the ideas and Ideologies of two ages, unable to make a syn-
thesis, his career a constant rebellion against ideas he him-
self could never entirely cast off.
What is the contemporary reader s reaction to L An 2440? In
many ways we have attained 2440 and beyond: in our roads
and public buildings; in religion, marriage, and the frame of
our governinent; and in our science and medicine. In others we
have. not; In the arts and in economics. Much of Mercier s
utopia mlght make us uncomfortable were it realized. But in
sp1te_of the fact that we have already reached the level of
Mereler s future in many things, our discontent with the pres-
ent makes us feel that "progress desired change in the
sphere of material and intellectual culture rests uneasily on
:hetsgrfk'ac: of a thumaln nature that we have only little pene-
ra e , 11 ene rate enou
perfectibilit£. gh to shatter the myth of human
1 Let us consider two cases. In L An 2440 a man has killed a
r1val for the love of his betrothed. We know that at a young age
he had the nation s laws read to him and that he copied them
down, so that he acted in full knowledge of the consequences of
1118 act..He confesses his guilt before the judges, who give him
the chowe of ignominy or death. He chooses death; his friends
and reiatlves embrace him; he is clothed in a White garment
face h1s end. But in Tableau, two young girls go to the
xxii MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 2500
guillotine singing couplets from a bawdy song, and the crowd
cheers when their heads fall.
Is it a simple transformation of the shape of society that
would make the rst scene possible? Can society ever be
framed so that man can develop his inherent Virtue, as can
the noble savage? In L An 2440 Mercier expresses a belief in
the nobility of man s nature: society corrupts him, and the
society of 2440 will free him from corruption. His faith was
shaken by the events of the Revolution and Mercier could not
continue to believe in the perfectibility of man through im-
provements in society. In the end, with him, our attention is
turned toimoral, not material, progress, and we are left with a
nal question: is it possible?
Mary Elizabeth Bowen
Columbia University
REFERENCES
1. Begun in 1768, Mémoires de l An 2440: réve s il en flit jamais appeared
anonymously in 1770 from an Amsterdam publisher. It was prohibited,
placed on the Index, and banned in Spain during the Inquisition. But despite
efforts to suppress L An 2440 as we shall refer to Mercier s work here), it was
widely read. It went through nine editions in French during its rst decade of
publication, and it was translated into English by William Hooper, M.D. under
the title Memoirs of the Year Two Thousand Five Hundred (London, 1772). In
1786 Mercier published a de nitive edition, augmented to three times its orig-
inal length and prefaced by a short disclaimer of its imitators. The rst edition
signed by Mercier appeared in 1799 (L An VII) after the Revolution. The En-
glish edition enjoyed a similar popularity, although Dr. Hooper never incorpo-
rated Mercier s additions, nor did he change the apparently intentional
mistranslation of Mercier s title (2440 rounded off to 2500). Another English
translation was made by Harriot Augusta Freeman, entitledAstraea s Return;
or, The Halcyon Days ofFrance in the Year 2440: A Dream (London, 1787), an
expanded version. Hooper s translation was re-edited in 1799, and a new, cor-
rected edition, pre xed with an account of the author, was published in Liver
pool in 1802. There were American editions of both English translations: of
Hooper s in 1795 (the rst American edition, reprinted here) and in 1799, and
of Freeman s in 1797. Most recently, the French version has been edited by
Raymond Trousson and published by Ducros in Bordeaux in 1971.
2. Edward Bellamy, Looking Backward (New York: New American Library,
1960), p. 222. The utopia set in the future is the imaginative ancestor of
futurology, a discipline attempting rational extrapolation from the present. At,
the other end of the spectrum is the fantastic voyage such as Cyrano de
Bergerac s Voyage to the Moon (1657 which intends no comment at all upon
Introductton xxiii
the real world, but plays with the possibilities of other worlds and creations
3, Memozrs of the Year Two Thousand Five Hundred (Philadelphia: Printeti
by Thomas .Dobs'on, 1795), p. 2. All future references to this text, which is
reproduced in this edition, are given in parentheses following the quotation
4. FromLe Tableau de Paris (1781 90) as quoted by Henry Majewski in The
Preromanttc Imagination of L.-S. Mercier (New York: Humanities Press
1971), p. 3.6. Majewski s study is a thorough and sensitive treatment of the
preromantic elements in Mercier s work. The translation is mine.
5. Parts pendant la Revolution, ou Le Nouveau Paris (Paris' Poulet-
Malassis, 1862), p. 20. The translation is mine. '
6.1 Gastatvle Desnoirestzrrg; ed., Tableau de Paris par L.-S. Mercier, Etude
sur a me e es ouvrages e ercier (Paris: Bach ' -
pp. 353 54. The translation is mine. elm D6 0renne et cm, 1885)
7. Léon Béclard, Sébastien Mercier: Sa vie, Son Oeu ' '
B. Champion, 1903), p. 2. The translation is mine. Dre, Son Temps (Pans.
8. Later, in the opening paragraph of the Tableau (Desnoiresterres p. 9) he
woulii write: One can come to a complete knowledge of the human race by
studying the people who gather in this immense capital.
9. Mercier s Traité du Thédtre, ou nouuel essai sur l art drhmatique (1773)
Whlch was in uenced by Diderot s ideas on the introduction of the middle
classes into the drama, would echo ideas expressed in L An 2440. It is an attack
on French classical traditions and the great playrights of the 17th century To
Mereler tragedy has been in decline since Corneille. Racine, though a ne pbet
13.1300 feminine and not moral enough; Moliere is immoral, so Mercier turns to
Diderot and Marmontel. The genre serieux, or drame, must replace the old
degenerate tragedy. It is to be bourgeois in subject and treatment' it should
reveal the ne moments of human life in the family; composed for the people it
must attempt to reconcile the inhuman differences that inequalities of weaith
have placed among citizens. It must have purpose: to give instruction culti-
vate reason, anti enlighten a slumbering nation. Prose i s/preferable to boetry
and unity of action must be kept, although unity of time may be extended to
three days. Shakespeare was, thus, Mercier s hero.
Mereler s plays, thirty-one in number, carry out his theories. They have
generally received brief and chilling dismissal in literary histories although
widely translated and considerable in their in uence outside Fra nce espe-
c1ally in Germany. If their critical reputation has not been high it may in part
lge because of.Mereier s quarrel with the Comédie Frangaise, which, offended
aycggigg 31f]ehis opinions, had refused to perform his plays, although it had
Mercier s plays receive sympathetic treatment in Ele n '
Dramatic Theory and Practice in France, 1690 1808 (LgnggnF'Lg giggh?
Green, 1921), pp. 84 92. See also articles on the theatre in 18th-century-
France in Etudes Littéraires, 1, ii Au us '
Crosier s houis-Sébastien Mercier Eat 1eg thteziltgg§2bgégeg1fg9h Raymond Guy-
.10. Merc1er is attempting to portray natural man in a society which frees
his innate tendenc1es towards love, family bonds, and social harmony. Reports
brought back from the South Seas by travellers such as Antoine Bougainville
who had explored the Archipelago of Oceania, including Tahiti, from 1766 t6
xxiv MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 2500
1769, had aroused much contemporary interest. In 1771, Bougainville pub-
lished an account of his travels, and in 1772, Diderot wrote a ctionalized
Supplément (i la Voyage de Bougainuille, circulated in manuscript but not
published until after the Revolution. In this, a Tahitian, Orou, offers the chap-
lain of the ship his daughter, but the chaplain protests. Orou explains the
simple, open conventions of the Tahitians: procreation is encouraged, mar-
riages are made for love and dissolved when a couple nds occupying the same
hut no longer agreeable; children are supported by the state, as are the aged.
Réstif de la Bretonne, a friend of Mercier s, would write La Découverte australe
par un Homme-volant, ou le Dédale Frangais (1781), a voyage to a society in
which marriage is governed by a set of rational rules governing who marries
whom, and when. Mercier s Paris of 2440 is a Paris freed of the social forces
which disturb man s natural tendencies towards love and fellowship; there is
no complex set of rules, but marriage and the family ourish.
11. The philosophy of science is Baconian: nature s secrets will yield up to
patient labor, and the work of many can build an immense empire, greater
than any one man could conquer alone. The aim of the undertaking is to
provide man with a means to improve his state on earth. Another aspect of
their creed: they con ne a certain number of secrets to a few sages, for there is
knowledge which, good in itself, may nonetheless be abused in its application.
The human mind is not yet strong enough to make use of the most rare and
powerful discoveries without danger, and so the scientists must guard these
secrets in trust for mankind.
12. The anonymous volumes were attacked. Mercier declared his author-
ship and went to Switzerland, where he continued to publish until the coming
of the Revolution drew him back to Paris in 1788.
13. Desnoiresterres, ed., Tableau, p. 138.
14. Desnoiresterres, ed., Tableau, pp. 12 13.
15. Mercier ended his career in open revolt against the ideals of French
classicism. His Néologie ou Vocabulaire des mots nouveaux ou a renouveler
(1801) has been called the door through which the rational neology of the
eighteenth century opens into the literary imagination of the nineteenth. At
the beginning of the 18th century, the French language was thought to have
attained a state of perfection by writers, academicians, and grammarians.
The language of Corneille and Racine was stable and conservative, but the
language in which political and social questions were discussed kept on chang-
ing, with no regard for the strictures of the purists. It was not until its 4th
edition in 1762 that the Dictionnaire of the Academy admitted that neology is
an art. The neological movement of the eighteenth century was in reaction to
this excessive puri cation of language. Its characteristics were regret at the
loss of old words, the desire to enrich the language with them, and to add new
words. Sometimes this improvement of language was made parallel with prog-
ress in the arts and sciences.
Mercier may have begun his Néologie as early as 1791. In any case, it was
published three years after the fth edition of the Dictionnaire de L Academie,
in open and mocking de ance of it. Mercier s principles are to renew words
gone out of usage, to extend language, to reinforce it, as it develops. Language,
he believes, belongs to those who use it; thus, his hostility to those academics
who would claim a special right over it.
Introduction xxv
In the introduction to the Néologie, Mercier speaks almost mystically of 1a
pensée, the only reality, independent of all that surrounds it, suf cient in and
of itself in its own emanation.
Thus, it is his task in the Néologie to open up 1a pensée to new points of
view through new words and expressions of all kinds. See Mario Mormile La
"Néologie" Revolutionnaire de Louis Sébastien Mercier (Rome: Bulzoni IEdi
tore, 1973).
16. See W. W. Pusey, Louis Sébastien Mercier in Germany: His Vogue and
In uence in the Eighteenth Century (New York: Columbia University Press,
1939); H. Temple Patterson, Poetic Genesis: S. Mercier into Victor Hugo
(Studies on Voltaire and the Eighteenth Century, v. 11; Geneva: Institut et
Musée Voltaire, 1960), which refers to an unpublished Bibliographie critique
des ouvrages de Louis-Sébastien Mercier, typescript, 1925; Henry Majewski,
op. cit; and Raymond Trousson, ed., L An Deux Mille Quatre Cent Quarante:
Réve s il en flitjamais (Bordeaux: Ducros, 1971).
1»
I
ri
_4
MEMOIRS
OF
THE YEAR
Two TheWnd Five Hundred.
LE TEMS PRESENT EST GROS DE L AVENIR.
Leibnitz.
Tran ated from the French,
BY W. HOOPER, M.A.
PHILADEt P HTl,
PRINTED BT THOMAS DOBSON',
AT THE STONB-HOUSB, 14°41, SOUTH SECOND-STREET.
MoDCC.XCV.
Y
7""
ADVERTISEJWENT.
rrHE title of this work in the original
is The Year Two Thouf and Four Hundred and
Forty; but as there appears no reaibn for xing
it to any particular year, we have for the fake
of a round number, called it The Year Two
Thoufand Five Hundred. It may be proper to
add, that this is the only alteration made by the
tran ator. Though the {eerie of this narrative lies
in Paris, yet the re eétions in general may be
applied, by changing the names of places and
perfons, to almo all the capital cities of Europe.
Who the author of this work is, we will not
pretend to determine; perhaps the reader will be
fatis ed with nt ng that he is a man of fenfe,
of tai te, and learning, of :1 lively imagination, a.
rong fpirit of liberty, and, what is worth them
all, a warm benevolence of heart.
A2
ie
:
4
CONTENTS.
Introdu ian - - PAGE I
CHAP. I. Rg e iom on Part}, 6y an old Eng-
Ii man; - - 3
II. I am ve» hundred and xiy year:
old - - - 1 I
III. I[mrc/Ja/Z' afuz't qf reaafy-made
[/oI/m' - . . I4
IV. Tbe Parlera qf Par}: 17
V. 77): Carriage: - - 20
VI. 7%: embroidered Hat - 23
VII. 75: Bridge re- apt i/éd - 26
VIII Tb: new Part} - - 28
IX. The Petition: - - 41'
X. 772: Man will) a Mq/é - 4.4.
XI. 7711 Now Tg ammh - 47
X11. 771: College of 231.7 ? Nation 50
XIII erre 1': Me Son 0mm .9 - 58
XIV. 'T/Je HWIta/ r Iheculatian :- 63
A 2. CH .
vi
CHAP.
XV.
XVI.
XVII.
XVIII.
XIX.
XX.
XXI.
XXII.
XXIII.
XXIV.
XXV.
XXVI.
XXVII.
XXVIII.
XXIX.
XXX.
XXXI.
XXXII.
XXXIH.
XXXIV.
XXXV.
XXXVI.
XXXVII.
XXXVIII.
CONTENTS;
Page.
77960103; and zrz rua mce - 65
Execution of a Criminal - 72
Natfa zr a Pm' we Ilmagbt - 86
T/Je Mizzgyler: ofPeace - 92
Tbe Temple - i - 97
7'72: Pre/ate - - - l I I
772: Cammum'azz qf II): two In-
niiie: - - - I I 3
remarkable Monument - 124.
77:: Bread, 1/5: Winc, 8:. - l 29
77;: Prime a Publican - 140
lee Tbmfre - - 14.4.
The Lamp: - - 153
A Funeral - - 157
A71 Ea-VP qf tile Moan. - 16x
77): King : Library - - I 67
Tire Men Lchlter: - - 192
7726 Academy qf Science - 199
7716 King : Cabinet - - 2 I4.
7725 Academy of Painiing - 23 ;
Emb/kmatic'al Pain/z zzg: . 241
Szulpz ure and Engraving 247
Tbe Hall of Audience - 252
T111: Farm qf Government - 256
7716 Hair fa t/Je 771mm - 272
77): Womm - - 28;].
I CHAP.
C 0 NT E N T 8. vii
CRAP. Page.
XXXIX. T65 Taxes - . 298
XL. 071 Coming : - - - 3 I I
XLI. 7'62 Evening - - - 3 I 7
XLII. 77;: Gazette: - - 338
XLIII. Funeral Oratiwz qfa Peq/ ant 355
XLIV. Vei i/[ex - - - 359
EPISTLE DEDICATORY'
To t/Je Tear
TWO THOUSAND FIVE HUNDRED.
AUGUST 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 {hall enlighten them who will tread upon
my afhes, and upon thofe of thirty generations,
fucce ively cut off, and plunged in the profound
abyfs of death. The kings that now t upon the
throne {hall be no more; their pollerity {hall be
no more. Then {halt thou judge the departed
monarch, and the writer who lived in fnbjeétiou
to his power. The names of the friends, the
defenders of humanity, {hall live and be honoured,
their glory (hall be pure and radiant; but that
vile herd of kings, who have been, in every fenfe,
the tormentors of mankind, Hill more deeply
plunged
X EPISTLE DEDICATORY.
plunged in oblivion than in thegegious of death,
can only efcape from infamy by the favour of
inanity.
The thought furvives the man, and forms his
mo glorious poifef on; the thought LfCS from
his tomb, a hmes an immutable body, becomes
immortal. While the thunders of defpo'tifm fall
and vani i, the pen of the writer, bounding over
the interval of time, abfolves or punifhes the
matters of the univerfe.
I have exercifed that authority which nature
gave me; I have cited before my folitary reafon
the laws, the cuftoms, and abufes of the country
in which I have lived obfcure and unknown. I
have felt that virtuous hatred which is due to
oppref on from a being of humanity; I have de-
te ed, purfued with infamy t0 the utmo of my
power, oppofed all tyranny. But, alas! Auguf t
and Venerable Year, perhaps to little purpofe,
when contemplating thee, have I animated, ex-
alted my ideas; they may appear in thy eyes the
mere conceptions of fervitude. Forgive me ', the
ge furrounds and oppreffes me.
the tranquility of my coun-
I fee nought
who move and
1c of life has
Even now,
the
genius of my a
Stupidity now reigns;
try refembles that of the grave.
around me but coloured carcafes,
talk, but in whom the aétive princip
never produced the leak emotion.
EPISTLE DEDICATORY. XI
the voice of philofo h '
. _ p y, weaned and de'eéted'
CHCS 1n the midft of mankind as ' J
a boundlefs defert. 111 the centre Of
Oh! could I but divide the term of m exi
ence, with what pleafure would I in anill d I
fcend to the grave! with what joy {hould- Iy a:
from the gloomy, wretched afpeé ts of my co-tim-
porarxes, to awake in the midft of thofe fair da
that thou {halt bring forth; that blifsful eriofis
xyhen man (hall have regained his courape hi,
liberty, his independence, and his virtue 'g I10 3
happy, could I but behold thee otherwife than inW
dream! Ha e! thou age fo de red, thou objeé :
if my earne wifhes! Come, and pour down
lapPl CfS upon the earth! But what do I fa ?
Delivered from the illu ons of a plea n dreay I
I fear, alas! I fear, that thy fun is morge likeTc:
caft a gloomy 1i ht
and of wing. g On a formlefs mafs 0f afhes,
MEMOIRS
MEMOI RS
1 ear Two Tbozg/ZmdFive Hundrea .
INTRODUCTION.
THAT all fhould be well is the with of the
philofopher. By that term, which doubtlefs has
been abufed, I mean that fagacious and virtuous
being, who de res the general happinefs, in confe-
quence of thofe determinate ideas of order and har-
mony that he entertains. Evil is difgu fting to the
ght ofthe wife man ; he therefore declaims again&
it; he is accufed of~ill-nature; but wrongfully; he
knows that evil abounds on the earth ; but, at the
fame time, he has conftantly prefent to his mind that
beautiful and {hiking perfeétion, which might and
ought to refult from the conduit of a rational being.
In e 'eét, what {hould prevent us from hoping,
that, after running round the wide-extended circle of
their follies, guided by their pa ions, men, jaded and
difgu ed, may not return to the pure lights of reafon!
Why may not the human race refemble an indivi-
dual? Touchy, ha y, thoughtlefs, in .youth; gentle,
B patient,
7-2 INTRODUCTION.
patient, prudent, in age *. The mat} who argues
thus impofes on himfelf the duty ofbemg Ju z.
But do we know what is perfeétion 2 Can it apper-
tain to a weak and limited being? Is it not thatgreat
fecret hid from us by the prefent life? Mult We not
put of? mortality ere we can comprehend that fub-
lime enigma?
In the mean time, let us endeavour to render this
life tolerable; or, if that be too much, let its at lealt
dream that it is ('0. For me, concentered With Plato,
I dream like him. 0 my dear countrymen, whom
I have {0 often heard groan under that load of abufes,
of which we are wearied with complaining, when
will our dreams be realifed? Let us then eep on ;
for in that mutt we place our felicity.
F Was this world created 'merely for that Tmall number
of men who now inhabit the fuxface of the earth ? "What
are all the beings that ever exilted, in comparlfon or thofe
that God can create 2 Other generations Wlll behold the
fame fun, occupy the place we now poffefs, and pttfh us to
far backimo antiquity, that there {hall not remain of us
either vfoot eps or remembrance.
CHAP,
CHAP. I.
REFLECTIONS 0N PARIS BY AN OLD ENGLISH
MAN.
r w
l HOU troublefome friend, why dldll . thou
wake-me? Ah! what injury halt thou done me!
Thou halt {hatched me from a dream, whofe fweet
illu ons were to me more de reable than the impor-
tunate light of truth. How plea ng was the deceit 1
Would that I were plunged in it for the remainder of
my days! But, alas! I am again {urmunded by that
frightful chaos from which I thought myfelfdeliver-
ed. Sit down, and lil ten to me, while my mind is
yet lled with the objeéls by which it was but now
enrapt.
Late lall: night, I converfed with that old Englifh-
man, whofe foul is {0 free. You know that I love
the man truly Englifh ; we no where nd better
friends; among no other people do we meet wixh men
of a charaé ter f0 fledfztf c and f0 generous; that fpirit
of liberty with which they are animated gives them
a degree of force and con ancy rarely to be met
with among other nations.
Yom- nation, he faid, is lled with abufes Grange
as multifarious; they are neither to be numbered
cr conceived; the mind is there loll. Nothing is to
B2 H16
4 REFLECTIONS .ON PARIS.
me To 'furpri ng as that repofe, that apparent calm,
which broods over the horrid jars of {0 many inteitine
troubles. Your capital is an incredible eompound V ;
the [hideous monfter is the receptacle of extreme
opulence and exce ive mil ery; their conte ; is eter-
ml. How amazing that this devouring body, which'
is tonfuming in every part, can {ub in its horrid
inequality'f.
In your kingdom, all things are made fuhfer-
vient to the capital; cities, nay, whole provinces,
arefaeri 'csd to it. Alas ! what is it but a diamond
in the midi? of a dunghill! what an inconceivable
jumhie of Rafe and Pmpidity, of genius and folly, of
grandeur and bafenefs! I left England with preci-
pitation ; I ew with hopes of arriving at that bright
centre, where men, by uniting their mutual talents,
had
'| The hole kingdom is in'Paris. France refembles a
ricketty child, whofejuices {eem only to encreafe and nou-
rifh the head, while the body remains weak and emaciated.
This fort of children have frequently more wit than others ;
but they are generally fhort lived.
1" The manner in which it exil ts is (till m'ore a oni ia
ing: It is not uncommon to fee a man, who cannot live
upon one hundred thoufand livres (11) a year, borrow mo-
ney of another, who lives at his eafe on a hundredth part
of the money.
(ii) The livre is equal to ten pcnce halfpenny, confeqnent-
ly the Ertnch crown of x livres is equal to ve {billings and
three-pcncc, and the louis-d'gr of twenty four livrcs equal tn
our guinea.
REFLECTIONS ON PAR IS. 5
had e abli ted the throne of all the pleafures, fur-
rounded by cafe and complacency. But, heavens!
how cruelly were my hopes deitroyec-l ! On this rpot
yvhere all things abound, I behold wretches perifh:
mg for want; in the midft of {0 many fagacious
laws, a thoufand crimes are committed; among f0
meny regulations of the police, all is diforder ~ no-
thing to be feen but: {hackles, embarraffments ,ancl
praétices contrary to the public good. ,
The throngs of people are every moment in dan-
ger of beingerufhed by the innumerable quantit 0f
carriages, in which are borne at their eafe thofe thd
are in nitely lefs valuable than they whom theyf lafh
and threaten to de roy. I tremble when I heir the,
precnpitate tread of horfes in the midi t of a crowd of
the aged and in rm, ofchildren, and teeming women
In reality, nothing is more infulting to human 11 .
ture than that cruel indifference, with which th '4
regard the dangers that each moment pi oduces*.ey
Your affairs compel you to frequent a quarter of
the town,. where there exhales a foetid and mort l.
vapout': thoufands of mankind are forced to bre"tah
that poxfoned' air 1-. Your churches afford more roc-
* . . . .
n :e original inhabitants of the earth, could you Inve
tong t that a City would ever exift, where they {houlq"
wit
{ hour concern, drive over the unfortunate palfengers "z
0 much per leg and per arm! i
tw-f 'f he cemetry of the church called the Innocents ferves
Y en y-two paxifhes; they have interred the dcacl there
B. 3 foli
Te
H i
5 REFLECTIONS ON PARIS.
ca on for {caudal than initruétion; they are made
the high road for pztffengers, and fometimes {ome-
thing worfe; you are not fuffered to {eat youtfeif
there but by virtue of money; a fhamefui mono-
poly in a facred place, where all men, when in the
prefence ofithe Supreme Being; aould fureiy be re-
garded as equals.
When you would copy after the Greeks and Rm
mans, you have not even the ability to fupport their
manner, which was 'pure and noble ; you idis gure
it, you dei h oy it, by a pueriie longing after what
you call pretty. You have fome dramas that are
mai ter-pieces ; but, if on reading them, I nd a de-
re to fee them reprefenied, I no longer know them;
You have three fmali, dark, and dirty theatres* ; in
one you are, at a great expence, magni cently ft-unned
while you gapingly admire a heap of ridiculous ma-
chinery ; in another, you are forced to laugh, when
you
A place for this purpofe {houid
{ureiy have been choren without the walls ; on the contra-
ry, it is placed in the centre of the city; and left it {hould
not be {uf cientiy frequented as it {hould {eem, they have
illrroumied it with Iiiops. It is a grave always open,
always iling, always empty. Our deiicate ladies there
waik over the monidei ing bones of millions of their fore-
fathers to purchufe pompous andvother baubles.
for a thoufund years pa .
* The French and Italian comedies, or theatres, and the
The epithets here ufed are applicable enough to
opera.
a rather merits thofe
the two~comcdies ; but .furer the oper
ofsgrand and (iegunt.
REFLECTIONS ON PARIS. :1
you Ihould weep; nature is never confulted' and be '
des that your tragic aétors are beneath all criticifm:
you there find fome impertinent companion, who is.
alone fuf cient t0 banifh the moit perfeét-iliu on-
with regard to the thindythey are a fet of bu ooas:
who fometimes quaver the drolleries of Momus a-nci
fometimes {hriek an in pid air. I preferthefe how
ever, to your dull French comedians, 'becaufe the -
are more natural, and confeq-uently more plealin Y
and 'becaufe they afford the.pub1-ic rather more cute?
taiiiment*. But I muit confefs at the fame time -
that a man ought to have an uncommon {hare 0}
13ml , to amufehim elf w th th -
CXhibit.
'1 e wretched t I l es they
It a 'eéts me with an indignant pity, to fee fuch
people as thefe, who are {upp'orted by a fort-of con
tnbutmn from each fpeétator, impudently crowd thei;
Judges together in afcanty pit, where, continuall- on
their feet, and pref ng againf c each other, they {Life
a thoufand tortures; and where they are not-permitr
ted to complain, though on the point of being fu 'o:
catedf. A people, who even intheir entertainments,
*iThere is an eiTential di 'ererice between the French d
Italian comedies; the r are fully perfuaded that the 7""
perfons of merit, and in confequence are infoient 'y :6
fecond are direEted entirely by mercenary motives- the, e
from felf-conceit, thew a want of due reipeft for tl'ie uh???
the others {trive to pleafe it from a principle ofévarice 1C,
, 1~ There are no feats in the pit at any of the French thea-
res , and as thofe that are behind are continually endeavour
" _
ma to get forward, and thofe before'endeavour to keep their
ation
3 REFLECTIONS ON PARIS.
can endure {'0 troublefome afervitude, {how to what
degree of flaverythey may be redhced. Thus, all
thofe pleafures boafted of at a dillance are, on a
near approach, but troubles ; and we mutt walk over
the heads of the multitude, if we would breathe at
our cafe.
As I do not nd myfelf endowed with that bar-
barous courage, adieu ; I Ihall be gone. You rhay
boai t of your ne buildings that are falling into rums ;
{how with admiration your Louvre, whofe afpeé t does
you more difgrace than honour, efpecially when fur-
rounded by {0 many gaudy baubles, which colt you
more to flipport than it did to ereét your public mou.
numents.
But all this is yet nothing. If I {hould dwell on
the horrible difproportion of fortunese 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 {hohld
paint the indigence of the unfortunate, and the 1m-
o ibility of redrefs, while they preferve their pro.
P bity;
Ration, they are in con ant agitation, not much unlike- the
mob at a lord mayor s {how : to mend the matter, there are
x of the king s guards po ed in the pit, three on each tide;
and if any one offers to cry out, one of the gtiards, If 1t be
his will and pleafure, takeshim immediately into cu ody.
"' If we except the nanciers, who are in general cruel
and unpolite, the re t 0f the rich have but one ofthofe two
faults; they either politely fh 'er you to die of hunger or
.they roughly give you fome relief.
RE FLECTIONS 0N PARIS. 9
bity; if I {hould enumerate the riches abad man has
acquired, and the degrees of refpeé t that is fhown
him, in proportion as he becomes more depraved*;v
this would take up too much time. Good night.
Tomorrow will I leave you ; I fay, to-morrow; for
I can no longer live in a city fo full. of mifery, and
that has f0 many opportunities ofpreventing it.
I am difgu ed with Paris as with London. All
great cities refemble each other. Rou 'eau has very
well faid, It {eems 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 {um of their miferies. One would,
however, reafonably imagine the contrary; but too
many are interelted in oppo ng the general good. I
will fearch out fome village, where in a pure air, with
tranquil pleafures, I may deplore the lot of the
wretched inhabitants of thofe faftuous prifons they
call citiesf.
It
* Formerly, though they did not a itt the virtuous man,
they, however, e eemed him. It is now nolonger fo. I
remember the reply of a hrincefs to her intendant; his
wages were fix hundred livres, and he complained he was
not fuf ciently paid. How then did your predecefror ma-
nage? faid the princefs; he wzis but ten years in my fervice,
and retired with an eftate of twenty thoufand Iivres a year.
Madam, he robbed you, replied theintendant. Very well,
{aye the princefs, then do you rob me too.
1' Amidl t the torrent ofmodes, projeéts, and amulements,
of which one deftroys the other, and none laf ts, the minds
of the great arelo , deprived of enjoyment, and become as
incapable of perceiving the great and beautiful, as they are
of producing it.
10 REFLECTIONS ON PARIS.
It was to little purpofe that I reminded him of the
old proverb, Paris was not built in a day; that all
Was now perfeétion in comparilon of pal t ages. Per-
haps, a few years hence, I (aid, there will be nothing
left for you to de re; if they {hall accomplilh, in their
full extent, the different projeéls that have been pro-
pofed. Ah! he replied, there is the foible of your
nation ; projeéts for ever ! And can you regard
them? You are a Frenchman, my friend; and with
all your good {eufe you have an attachment to the
foil. But, be it ('0; when all thofe projeéts are ac-
complifhed, I will come again to fee you; till then
will I nd another dwelliug place; I like not to in-
habit amidl t f0 many unhappy and difcontented mor<
tals, whofe very fu ering looks pierce my lleart*.
1 know that it would be eafy to remedy the mofl;
pre ing evils; but, believe me, they will never be
remedied; the means are too limple to be regarded.
I am convinced that they will avoid them; I am
convinced alfo, that they will repeat among : you the
facred word Humanity, with much a eétation, only
to avoid performing the duties it implies-[a It is a
long time nce you erred through ignorance, and
therefore you will never reform Adieu.
* There is no one e ablifhment in France that does not
tend to the detriment of the nation.
1~ Accurfed be the writer who Hatters the age in which he
lives, and helps to deceive it; who lllllS it with the hi oi'y
of its ancient heroes, and virtues that are no more ; palliates
the evils that undermine and devour it ; and, like a fubtlc
mountebank, talks of its orid complexion, while the gan-
grene
CHAP. II.
I AM SEVEN HUNDRED AND SIXTY TEARS
OLD.
IT was midnight when my old Englif'hmau
left me. I began to be weary; I faftened my door
and retired to tell. When I had clofed my eye lids:
I dreamed that ages had pa 'ed nce I laid down to
relt, and that I was awake *. I role, and found a
weight opprefs me to which I was not accu omed-
my hands trembled, and my feet (tumbled; whenI
looked in the glafs, I could fcarce recolleét
I went to bed with black hair and a orid complex-
ion; but when I rofe, my forehead was furrowed
with wrinkles, and my hair was white; I faw two
prominent bones under my eyes and a long~nofe3 a
colour pale and wan was fpread over all my counte-
nance; when I attempted to walk, I was forced to
my vifage;
fuPport-
grene is preying upon its members. The writer of fortitude
m. never avail hlmfelf of thefc dangerous deceits. He
ones, 0 my countrymen, you by no means refemble your
fathers; you are polite and cruel; you have only the ap-
pearance of humanity; bare and faithlcfs, you have not even
the courage to commit great crimes; yours are all mean
and daftardly, like yourfelves.
*When the mind is much affe ed with any objeé t, it
readily returns 1:1 eep. Thcte are a onifhing circum-
ances attending dreams This as .
- ' Will a e b .
We): )5 notvery extravagant. PP ar y the {e
:2 I AM DCCLX. YEARS OLD.
fupport myfelfby my cane ; I did not nd, however,
that I had any ill-nature, the too common companion
of old age.
As I went out, I {aw a public place, which toiln:
was unknown; the}r had ju : ereéted a pyrartn a
coiumh, which attraéted the regatta. o;1the{:223;
d towards it, and read difhn y,
:fad::::eMMD . the charaé ters were. engvtavsd r;
margble, in letters of gold. At rg, Iitmagiie 6: :
' v t l was ~
es deceived me, or rather, t a . .
3);}: arti z s; but I had fcarce made the reifleéhfm,
when the furprife became [till greater ;ff;r,fdireé:;2§
dié tso t C over
1 oks towards two or three e .
Eidoto the wall, which I have always been cui'xiu:
to read, I'faw the fame date, MMD. fairly pnnher1
on all of them. Ha! I faid to myfelfa I am :1 e
become old indeed, without perceivmg it. ~W*at,
have I ept {even hundred and thxrty-two years .
A11 things Were changed; all thofe places that wet:1
{0 well known to me preijented a difercalntl fgce, 3;
I ' tly embellifhed; o my .-
nppeared to be rece ' 1R eets that were bUIlt
'dft rand and beautifu r . , _
Iiinfltraigit lines ; I entered a fpacwus fquare, ftcilrge
ed by the terminations of four reets, where
' 1 Pt
reigned {uch perteé t order, that I found not the ea
(1
embarra 'ment, nor heard any of thofe cenfufed an
- I faw
whim cal cries that formerly rent my ears,
~ - - the outy' might
no carriages ready to omit: me, g :have
4.
* This work was begun in 1768,.
1 AM DCCLXV YEARS OLD. 13
have \miked there commodiou y; the city had an
animated afpeét, but without trouble or confu on.
I was (0 amazed, that I did not at rft obferve
the pa engers [top and regard me from head to foot
with the utmoft a oni iment. They {hrugged the
{houlder and fmiled, as we ufed to do, when we
met a maik; in faét, my drefs might well appear
original and grotefque, when compared with theirs.
A citizen (whom I after found to be a man of
learning) approached me, and {hid politely, but with
a xed gravity, Good 02d man, to what purpofe
:is this difguife? Do you intend to remind us of the
ridiculous cuftoms of :1 whim cal age 9 \Ve have no
inclination to imitate them. Lay afide this idle
frolick. What mean you? I replied; I am not
difgui -d; I wear the fame drefs that I were yeIter-
day; it is your columns and ycur edi s that counter-
feit. You {eem to acknowledge another fovereign
than Lewis XV. I know not what is your defign;
but I e eem it dangerous; and f0 Itell you; mafquea
rades of this fort are not be countenanced ; men muft
not carry their folly to fuch extent. You are, how-
ever, very free impo ors; for you cannot imagine
that any thing can convince 21 man :Iguin the evi-
dence ofhis own mind.
Whether he thought that I was delirious, or that
ny great age made me dote, or whatever other fuf-
picion he might have, he afked m ein what ye:h- I was
born. In 1740, I'replied. Indeed! Why then\
C you
I4 1 PURCHASE A SUIT OF
'you are fevcn hundred and xty years of age. We
{hould be aftouifhed at nothing, he {aid to the crowd
that furrounded me; Enoch and Elias are not yet
dead; Mathufalem and fome others have lived nine
hundred years; Nicolas Flamel traverfes the ea'rth
like awandering Jew ; and perhaps this gentleman'has
found the immortal elixir, or the philpfopher s Rome.
Om pronouncing the 121R words he fmilcd; and every
mne -pre ed toward me With a very particular com-
placency and rcfpeé t. They fecmed 1111 eager to in-
terrogate me; but diferetion held them mute; they
contented themfeives with faying, in a low voice,
A man of the age of Lewis XV. Oh! what a
turio ty l
C H AP. III.
I PURCHASE A SUIT OF READT /IADE
CLOTHES.
E BEGAN to be anxious For my fafcty.
The man of letters faid tome, ' I fee you are con-
founded, and therefore willingly offer to be )our
guide. ButIEt us begin, I entrent you, by entering
the r cloth- iop we {hall come to; for, he frankly
added, I cannot be your companion, if you are
not decently drefred.
You muft allow, for example, that, in :1 Well.
r eg ulated city, where the government forbids all
duels, and anfwers for the life of every indlvidual,
it
NEW CLOTHES. 15
it is ufefefs, not to fay indecent, to wear a murden
ing Weapon by your de, to put a fword on when
you go to pray to God, or to vi t the ladies or your
friends. A foidier can do no more in a town that
is he eged . In your age, there Were [till fome
remains of the Gothic chivalry; it was a mark of
honour to wear at all times an offenlive weapon -
and I have read, in an author of your days, that:
an old man wouhl parade with a {word that he
could no longer ufe. V
How girding and troublefome is your' dref's -
your fhoulders and arms are imprifoned ; your body
)5 pre ed together}; your brea ; is con rained, you
can {came breathe; and, why, I befeech you, do
you expofe your legs and thighs to the iuclemency
of the feafons? Each age produces new. modes . but
either I am much deceived, or our drefs is both
agreeable and falutary. Obferve it.
In {:16}, the manner in which he was drelfed
though new to me, had nothing" in it difgu ful:
HIS hat!- had not the dark and gloomy colour nor
the troublefome corners of our s; there temhined
. . .
In Pans, everyman Who.isnota fervant, or in ltrade,
w r ' u
hen s a (word, if hour} : nd .money:to purchafeiqne, which
C may do there for a tew (billings.
ylfl were to write a hiflory of France, I iould pay a
pantncularyegard to the chapter of hats. This little fubjeét,
treated wnh care, would be curious and interc ing. I
would contrafl the qulifh and French; and -fho.w, that
'C 2 when
15 I PURCHASE A sun: 0?
nothing but the cap or bé ely of the hat, which was
{utrounded by a fort 6Fcitpe, that rohed up, or was
extended, as the feafon required
His hair, neatly combed, formed a knot behind
his head, and a ight tinge of powder left the natu-
ral colour vi ble *. Far di ant from the plai ered
pyramid of fcented pomatum; or thofe aring wings,
that give a frightful hfpcét to the'wearcr; or thofe
immoveable buckles, that de roy the grace of the
owing curls. . His neck was not tightly bound with
mu in-l ; but furrounded with a cravat more or lefs
warm, according to the feafon. His arms enjoyed
their full liberty in eeves moderately la rge; and
his body, neatly enclo fe d in :1 fort of veft, wa s co-
vatedwvith é. cloak, in form of a gown, {alutary in
the cold and rainy feafons.
Round his waift he wore a long fafh that had a
graceful look, and preferved an equal warmth. He
had
hen the former wore a large, the latter wore a {mall hat,
and the reverfe.
* There are at prefent three or four hundred methods
ofdre ing the hair ofa man of fafhion. 0, how profound
are the arts! 'Who can pretend to purtue them through
all their details l
T The neckLpieces that are now worn are of more {et-
vice than the (uper cial obferver may imagine. The town
air, high living, and other matters, make us look pgde.
Now, thofe necks, by driving the blood up into the face,
rcf tore us to a natural complexiont
NEW CLOTHES. 1 7
had none of thofe garters that bind the hams and
remain the circulation. He wore a long ocking,
that reached from the foot to the wai ; and an
eafy (hoe, in form of a bufkin, inclofed his foot. I
He carried me into a lop, where I was to change
my drcfs: 1 fat down in a chair; but it was notgone
of thofe that are hard ufFed, and fatigue inftead of
refreihing; it was a fort of {mall alcove, lined with
mat, and turned on a pivot, according to the direé tiou
of the body. I could fcarce think that I Was in a.
tradefn tntt s fhop; for it was quite light, and iheard
no pratmg about honour and confcience.
CHAP. IV.
THE PORTERS 0F PARIS 1 .
MY guide became every moment more fu-
miliar; he agreed for the price of my new dtefs,
which came to a louis-d cr. When I gave it the
{hop-keeper, he promifed to keep it as an antiquity.
They paid ready money at every mp; for thofe peo~
ple, lovers of a fcrupulous probity, knew not the
meaning cf the word credit, which, on one de or
3 ._ . .
The porters of Pans carry their burdens in A long baf
ket {trapped over their fhoulders, and reaches down to the
want}; and of thefe there are near as many women as
men.
C 3 the
13 THE PORTERS OF PARIS.
the other ferves as a veil to an indu rious fraud.
The art of contraéting debts and not paying them-
. A la.
was no longer the fctence ofthe beau mon..e
When I came out, the crowd {till furrounded me;
but there was nothing either jeering or infultmg If:
their behaviour; merely a buzz from every de,
That s the man who is {even hundred and xty
years old. How unfortunate mu : he have been in
the tit'part of his life i.
I was-
* When Charles VII. king of France, was at Bourges,
he ordered a pair of boots to be made for him. As they
were tryinnr on, his intendant entered, and {cud to the {hoe-
. D
' ~ we cannot at forthem
maker, Take away your boots , p y
' ' -' wear his old ones a month
for fame time; his maJefty can
longer. The king commeiideti the iTtendaxlgit: and ig é
ferved to have fuch a- man in his fe-rvrice. ' atlwi boo
younrr rake fay to this, who, while he 15 trying (ankiisl 0;);
l-aucriis within himfel-f, to thinkhow he {hail- t-ricd :16 Z d
woiikmun. He defpifes the man whom he has : au e i;
and {pends the money in debatichery. It were fiapfil,on
the bafenefs of his foul- was imprinted on» us (:03 , the
that front which biufhes not, when he turns 0
corner of each {treat to {him the eye. ofa creditor. I Could
with that every man in Paris, who was dreifed beyond his
7
Ration (honid be obhged, under a fevere penalty to carry
) .
.
his tuilor's receipt inhis pocket.
1- He who is in poifeiiion of the {ubfidies and nances :E
:\ ateiis defpotic in the full extent at the term ; and. n 4:
does n ot make all bend before him} it is hecnufe it is no,
always for his intere to exert all his gown.
THE PORTERS OF PARIS. ,9
I was aftonifhed to nd ('0 much elegance, and [0
little embarraffmentin the Greets. One would have
{aid it was the Fete-Dieu i . The city, however,
appeared to be extremely populous.
There was in each reet a guard that preferved the
public order, and direéted the courfe ofthe carriages,
and'of the porters; it took particular care to pro-
cure a free pa 'age for the latter, whofe burdens were
proportioned to their rength. You heard not here
a wretch panting for breath, covered with fwcnt, his
eyes red with (training, and his head bent devm',
groan under a load that would have charged ahea ;
of burden, among a humane people ; the rich were
not permitted to {port with humanity, by virtue of a
few pieces of money ; nor did you fee the weak and
delicate fex, born to perform the {oft and pleating
duties of life, transformed into bea s of burden} in
the public markets, bending under weights to which
their {trength was unequal, and acculing the cruel
infen bility of thofe men who were the tranquilfpee-
tutors of their labours. Refiored to their proper
Ration, the women attended to thoie duties dnly,
wlzich the Creator has enj oined them, to bear children,
and be the confolation of theft: who prote , them
from the evils of life.
0 HA P.
3' This fea , which is in the month ofJune, is at Paris,
the greate in the year; the {hops are not only iut, but
every h'oufe is hung with tape ry, from the rft oor to
the ground; all the {treets' through which the feveral pro-
cetiions pafs are {wept and rewed with owers: and no
carriages are fuffercd to pafs.
CHAP. V.
THE CARRIAGES.
I OBSERVED, that all who went took the
right hand, and all who came the left *2 This m-
ple method of avoiding ob ruétion has been lately
difcovered ; {0 true it is, that all ufeful inventions are
produced by time -|-. By this regulation all ob ruc-
tions are avoided, and every pail'age is left free.
From the public feitivnls, where the greatelt ccn-
courfe of people refort, to enjoy an entertainment of
Which they are naturally fund, and of which it would
be unju to deprive them, each one returns to his
home without detriment or danger. I {aw not there
that ridiculous and turbulent fight of an innumerable
number of coaches entangled with each other, and
the Whole body remain immoveable for three hours
together; while the gilded top, the helplefs wretcll
who fuffers himfelf to be drawn along, forgetting
that he has legs, cries out from the coach-window,
and laments that he is not able to advance i.
The
* A {hanger can by no means conceive what it is that in
France occa ons a perpetual movement among the people,
who, from morning to evening, are abfent from their
houles, frequently without any bu nefs, though in an in-
comprehen ble agitation.
'f This method, I am informed, has been long ufed in
the imperial city of Vienna.
I This droll ght of a number of carriages intended for
expedition, blocked up for a long time by each other, while
the
THE CARRIAGES. 2 I
The greateft quantityof people form a citchlation
but is free, eafy, and perf cftly regular. I met a
mndred carriages loaded with provi ons or move-
ubles for one coach, and even in that there was only
21 man who appeared to.be in rm. What are be-
come, I 11nd, oflhofe ciarriniges completely (gilt, paint-
ed, and varnilhed, that in my time crowded the
{treets of Paris? Have you then no farmers of taxes,
no courtezans *, no petits mnitrcs? Formerly thofe
three defpicable tribes infulted the public, and vied
with each other in attraéting the regard of the ho ne .
citizen, who fled with precipitation before them, lelt
he fhould be crufhed by their chariot-wheels'. The
nobility of'my days regarded the ' {treets of Paris as
thelifts of the Olympic games, and placed their glo-
ry 1n the havock they made with their horfes;.then
it was, let him fave himfelf that can."
Thof'e fort of couffes, he replied, are no
longer permitted. Ju fnmptuztry laws have {up
pre ed that barbarous luxury, which ferved only
to propagate a race oflackies and hot fes "1'. The
favourites
the ma ers are fretting and the coachmen (wearing, affords
fome fattsfaélton to the perfecuted foot pairenger.
=1: ' , - '
We hate {een a fuperb carnage, drawn by x horfes,
ftlmptuonily harne hd, through two rows ofwondering ar-
tifans, who bare-headed faluted a rnmpet.
'l- Thole expen ve fots, who parade with a crowd of
valets, have been Jtl ly compared to certain infeEts, who,
1
:houg.) they have many feet are remarkably {low in ma-
ton.
, IAGES.
22 THE CARR
favourites of fortune no longer indulge in that crimi-
nal luxury f0 injurious to the poor. The nobles of
our day ufe their own legs, and therefore have mere
money and lets of the goat.
«'You fee, however, fume coaches; they belong
to ancient magi rates, or_ to men di mguiiheld b);
by their fervices, and bending under the wlexigl 1i . 3)
years. It is permitted to them only total ew y
ibver the pavement, where the lowe Citizen is re-
fpeéted. Should one of thefe have the misfortune
to lame any pa 'enge-r, he .would mitanitly. defcend
from his coach, place the injured perfon m It, and at
his own expence, provide him with ttcarnage for
the remainder of his days. But this never hap-
pens ; they who are permitted to have coaches ate
men of merit, who think it no difgrace to let their
horfes give place to a citizen.
" Our {overeign himfelf frequently goes on foot
among& us; fometimes he even h@nouts our dwheil-
ings with his pretence; and alrhofi: always, .w an
tired with walking, refts himfeif m the {hop of forlnc
artifan * ; he loves to obferve that natural eq_uahty
which ought to reign among men ; he meets 1n eur
eyes with nothing but love and gratitude; eur .ac-
clamations proceed from the heart, ahd his heart
receives them with complacency; he 15 a fecond
Henry IV. he has the fame dignity'offoul, the fame
benevolence
* This was a frequent praétice of the late Stani aus king
of Poland, in the latter part of his life.
THE CARRIAGES. 23
henextoience of temper, the fame noble mplicity;
But he is more fortunate: the public ways receive
from his foot eps a facred impre ion that every one
reveres; none dare breed riot ; they are afhamed to
caufe the ieaft diforder. If the King fhould come
by, they fay; that {ole re eétion would, I believe,
Rep 21 civil war. How powerful is example, when
it proceeds From the rft perfon iu the nation ! how
does it affeét ! what command it has over all men 9
it becomes an inviolable law.
l
l
CHAR v1,
7H5 E11431? OIDERED HA T.
THINGS feem to me fomewhatto be changed,
I {aid to my guide; I obferve that every one is
drcffcd in a iimple mcdeft manner; and in ail our
walk, I have not feen either gold clothes or laced
ru ies. In my time, a pueriie and deftruétive luxury
had turned all their brains; a body without a foul
\ vas covered with lace; and the ahtomaton then re-
fembled a man. That is the very reafon which
induced us to defpife that ancient livery of pride;
our eyes are not eon ncd to the furf'ace. When a
man is known to excel in his art, he has no need of
a rich habit, nor of magni cent apartments, to re-
commend him; he wants not admi ers to extol him,
01' proteftru s to {apport him ; hi3 ac tions fpeak, and
each citizen is de rous that he fhould receive the
recompence
34 THE EMBROIDERED HAT.
recompence Of his merit; they who purfue the fame
career are the rft to folicit in his favour; each one
prefents a petition, in which the fervices that he
has rendered the Rate are difplayed in the rongelt
colours.
Our monarch fails not to invite to his court the
man who is dear to his people; he endeavours to
receive in ruétion from him; for he does not ima-
gine that all knowledge was given him at his birth;
he pro ts by the lucid in ruétions ofhim that has
made fome grand objeét the con ant fubjeét of his
enquiry; he prefents that man with a hat, on which
the wearers name is embroidered; and that di inc-
tion far outweighs thofe tibbands, blue, red, and
yellow, with which were formerly drefTed up, men
that were abfolutely unknown to their country*.
You will readiLy believe, that an infamous cha-
rafter dare not prefent itfelf before a public that
would immediately difcover the deceit. Whoever
bears one of thefe honourable hats has free accet s to
all places ; at all times, he is admitted to the f0ut of
the throne ; that is a fundamental law: therefore,
when
*The vanity of the ancients eon tled in deriving their
might from the gods; fome laboured to prove themfelves
the nephews of Neptune, the grandfons of Venus, the cou n
germans of Mars; others, more model}, contented them-
1 elt e5 with being (lefccnded from tome river, nymph, or
mind. Ourmodern coxcombs have a more gloomy am-
bition; they would derive their defcent from the depths qt
obfcurity.
a
w
THE EMBROIDERED HAT. 25
when a prince or a duke has done nothing to obtain
the embroidered hat, he enjoys his wealth ibut is
entitled to no honours; he is regarded with the fame
indifference as anobfcure citizen, who mixes and is
loft in the crowd.
. Beth policy and reafon authorife this di inc-
non; it can be difplea mg~to thofe only who nd
themfelves incapable of ever attaining it . Man is
not fufhcielttly perfeé} to do good Iherely for the {-ake
of good. This fort of' nobility, as you will ea ly
believe, is pet'fonal only, not hereditary; nor is it
yenal. At the age ofitwenty-one, the fort of an
illu rious citizen'prefents himfelf before a tiibunal
vyho determine whether {he {hall enjoy the pt'erova:
th65 .Of his father. Frt'm his putt conduét, 20nd
r ClllZCn dear to his
country; but if the {on of Achilles be a hate Ther-
Ilites, we turn our eyes from him, that he mayvnot
,ave me fhame of blut'hing before us; he defcends
is.to an (blivitn '1 d '
_ , , . s eep as his filtllCI"s -l r
exalted. 2 W was
. In your tzme, they punifhed VlCE, but thcv
a ifgneld no recompence to virtue; a very imperfeét
legt atton. Among us, the man 01 cottr-we wh
has fuved the life of a citizen" 0" o
.D
, who has prevented
fome
% If ' . I a
h } is : omfhmg'that they allot no reward to the man
h:sob ;:s axed the lite of another, perhaps, at the rifk of
.6 . n ordinance of the police gives ten crowns to
t W' , . . n
. . d CHILI!) ho 4:~.es up a drowned body but noth' rt
to him who faves '1 r'ti'l ' ' ' P22:
J .Henm 1mmment dangerofdrowninvt
O
26 THE EMBROIDERED HAT.
fome public calamity, who has performed fome act
of great utility, Wears the embroidered hat, and his
refpeftahle name expofed to the public view, gives
him precedence tothe man of wealth, though it were
equal to that of Midas 0r P1utus*. That, I re-
plied, is highlyju . In my time, they gave, indeed,
a red hat, which they fetched from beyond the feas;
but itimpiied no merit in the wearer; it was a mere
in ance of ambition: and I know not well on what
pretence they obtained it.
I
I
I
I
C HAP. VII.
THE BRIDGE . RE-BAP TISED.
WHEN our converfation is intere ing, the
length of the Way becomes imperceptible. I no
longer felt the weight of age, being quite re-jlive-
nated by the ght of f0 many new objeéts. But
what did I difcover ! O heavens, what a profpe !
I found myfelf on the borders of the Seine, where
my enchanted ght beheld along extent of the moft
beautiful buildings; the Louvre was nifhed; and
the
4* When an extreme thir for wealth poffe 'es every
brea , the glow and fpirit of virtue vanifhes, and govern-
ment can only reward by large premiums, thofe who were
formerly fatis ed with titles of honour. Monarchs {hould
therefore create that {pecies of wealth; but, as we (aid, it
will be current only while the minds of men are {ufceptible
of noble impre ions.
THE BRIDGE RE-BAPTIZED. 27
the ne: that was between that and the palace of
the Thuilleries formed an imln'enfc place, where they
celebrated the public fh'ews; a 'new gallery corre-
fponded to the old one of Perrault, which was {till
beheld with admiration. Thefe two augu monu-
ments, thus united, formed the moit magni cent
palace in the univerfi; All the arti s of cii inguifh-
ed merit re ded in this paiace, 21ndthrmed the meft
refpe ahle part of the attendants of a mbnarch, who
valued nothing {0 much as patronizing thofe arts
that gave birth to the glory and happinefs of his em-
pire. I faw a fuperh public piece that was chpable
of containing the whole body of the citizens ; a tem-
ple was in front; it was the temple of Juftiee; the
architeéture of that building cortefponded with the
dignity of the objeé t.
-Is that the Pont-Neuf I cried. How it is deco-
rated ! What mean you'by the Pont-Neuf? we
have given it another name; and many others hive
We changed, to give them fuch as were more appo te
or gni cant; for nothing has a greater in uence on
the people than the ufe ofjuf t and exprefiive terms.
Behold the hridge of Henry IV. As it forms at com-
munication between the two parts of the city, it
could not bear a more refpe able title. In each of
the femicircles, we have ~placed the atues of thofe
great men, who, like him, were the friends of man-
kind, and fought nothing but the good of their coun-
try. .We have not he tated to place be de him the
chancellor L Hopital, Sully, Jeannin, 21nd Colbert.
What a treatife on morality! What public l eé ture is
D 2 f0
23 THE BRIDGE RE-BAPTIZE D.
To eloquent, fo perfua ve, as this range of heroes,
whofe gures,vthough dumb, yet expre ire, tC il to
every one how great and de rable it is to obtain the
public efteem. Your age had not the glory to per-
form fuch an a ion. -A -as!r my age found the
greatet c dif culties in the fmulleft enterprizes; they
made the met : extraordinary preparatives to an-
nounce with pomp an abortion; 2. grain of [and op-
ped'the movement of the mott boalted brings; in
fpeculation, they ereé ted the mo noble fabrics; the
tongue and the pen feemt-d to be the univerfai in rm-
ments. All things have their time. Our age was
that of innumerable projet ts; youls is that of execu-
tion. I congratulate you on your felicity, and re-
joice to think that I have lived fo long.
._ .m
C H A P. VIII.
THE NEW PARIS.
O N turning my ght toward that part where
itood the bridge formerly called Pont-au-Change, I
{aw that it was no longer loaded with wretched ho-
yels my View extend ed with pleafure along the vaft
courfe
*' The thoufands of men that retort to the fame fpot,
who dwell in houfes of feven ories, who crowd together
in narrow reets, who ince 'antly labour an exhautted foil,
while nature fets before them a vaft and pleafant country,
is an objeét in the eye of a philofopher, highly aftonithing.
The
THE NEW PARIS. 29
courfe of the Seine, and the profpeé t, {tri ly regular,
was further graced by novelty.
Thefe, indeed, are admirable improvements!
Tis true; yet tis pity, that they fhould remind us
of a fatal accident caufed by your negligence.
How our negligence"? if you pleafe. Hi zory re-
lates that you talked perpetually of pulling down
thofe miferable houfes, without performing it. On
a. certain day, therefore, when your magi rates pre-
ceded a fumptuous feaft with a re-work, in order
to~commemorate the anniverfary of fame faint, to
whom,'doubtlefs, France had great obligations; the
ring 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 another; a thoufand
citizens perifhed; and the magi rates, to whom ap.
pertained the revenues of the houfes, curfed not only
the rc-work, but the very feat}.
The fucceeding years they made not ('0 much
noxfe about nothing; the money that fprung up in
the air, or caufed dangerous indige ions, was em-
ployed
The rich tepair thither to increafe their power, and prevent
_an abufe of their power by that power itfelf. '1 he poor
,cheat, atter, and {et themfelves to fale. - They who do not-
fucceed are hanged; the others become perfons of confe
quence. It IS eafy to conceive, that in this perpetual and
bttttal- con uft of mtere s, the duties of the man and of the
cmzen are fcart e longer to be» found;
D3
30 THE NEW PARIS.
ployéd in forming a capital for the re oring and
maintaining of bridges; they regretted the not havmg
obferved this method before; but it was the fate of
your age to difregard their follies, though enormous,
till they were completely nithed.
Let us walk, if you pleafe, this way; you will
fee fome demolitions that we have made, I thinh, not;
improperly. The two wings of the (3am: Natrons*
no longer {poil one of the nelt quays; and perpetuate
the vindiétive temper of a cardinal. 76 have placed
the town houfe oppo te to the Louvre. When we
give any public entertainment, we think. Ju lythat
it .is intended for the people ; the place is fpacxo s;
no one is injured by the re-worksz or by the bruta-
lity 0f the. foldiers, who, they fay, In your: time, (can
it be believed ?) fometimes wounded the cmzens, and
wounded them with impunity f.
You fee that we have placed the ame: of the
feveral kings that fucceeded yours on the m1ddle of
each bridge. This range of monarchs, elevated wish;
" A college oflhat name, nearly oppo te the Lagurvre,
founded by cardinal Mazarine, for the education 0 dutty
pupils of four nations,which are Italy, Germany,Flan ers,
and Rou llon, a county in the Pyrenees, between Langue-
doc and. Catalonia.
+ This is what I have feen, and of which I here pub-
licly accufe the magi rates, who ought to, be more foli-.
citous forithe life of one citizen than for twenty public re!
works.
THE NEW PARIS. 3},
out pomp, in the centre of Paris, affords a grand and
intet el ting profpeét over the'river that adorns and
refrefhes 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 ereéted without any great expence;
our kings, after their deceafe, did not impofe that
'laf t tribute, which in your age opprefl ed the fubjeét,
already exhau ed.
I ohferve, with great fatisfaétion, that you have
taken away the aves that were chained to the feet
of'the ames of our kings-f; that you have obliterat-
ed every fattuous infcriptieni; and though, that
grofs attery is of all others the lea dangerous, you
have carefully avoided even the appearance offalfe-
hood anzl o entation.
They
* The houfes of the farmers of the public taxes, for the
moftpart, encircle the ames of our kings; {0 that they
cannot, even after their death, avoid being furrounded by
fcoundrels.
'f Lewis XLV. ufed to fay, that of all the governments
in the world, that Of the Grand Turk pleated him moft,
A greater in ance of pride and ignorance cannot be pro.
duced.
I This evidently refers to the outré {tatue of Lewis XIV.
in the Place des Viétoires, and to the bomba ic infcription
on the pede al, which calls him, the immortal man." It
is but-ju ice to the Pari ans to add, that they are- in gene-
ral difgu ed with the one and the other.
32 THE NEW PARIS..
They tell me that the .Ba ile has been totally de-
molifhed by a prince who did not think himi'elf a god
among men, but held the Judge of kings m chic re-
verence. They fay, moreover, that on the ruins. of
that hideous cattle (f0 properly called the Place of
Vengeance, and of a royal vengeance) they hate
ereéted a- temple to Clemency; that no cmzen lS
fnatched from fociety, without his procefs being r :
publicly made; that a lettre de cachet is..a» tertn un-
known to the people, and ferves only to e.xerc.1fe th'e
curin ty of thofe who bufy themfelves wnth mvelh-
gating the antiquated terms of barbarous ages.
There had been, they added, a treati fe compofed,
intitled, A Parallel between a. Lettre de Cachet and
the A mic Bow String.
We arrived infen bly at the Thuilleties, where
every one was admitted; and it now appeared to
me more charming than eve_r*. They made me no
demand for a feat in that royal gatden. We found
ourfelves at the Place of Lewis XV. My guide,
taking me by the hand, faid, with a (mile, You mull;
have feen the inauguration of this eque rian atue.
- Yes; I was then young, and no lefs curious than
at prefent. But, do you know, he fdld, that it
is a; chief-d oeuvre worthy of our 21'ch We [till con.-
antly admire it; and when we furvey the perfpeétivc
of the palace, it appears,efpecially by the fetting fun,
'crowned
' To reftife the common people an entrance into this gev-
den feems to me a wanton infult,' and of.a higher degree:
than is commonly imagined.
THE NEW PARIS. 33.
crowned by the molt illu riou s rays. Thefe magni-
cent viitasvform a happy en clofute; and he who
projeé ted the plan was, by no means; de itute ofta e;
he had the fagacity to forefee the efi eét they would
one day produce. I have read, however, that, in
your day there were men asje.1lcus as ignorant, who
ventedtheir cenfure again this {tattle and place,
which they ought to have adrnired*. IF,- at this time,
there {hould be a man npid enough to utter fuch
abfurdities, he would certainly be treated with the
highe contempt.
I continued my entertaining walk; but the detail
would be too long; bez ide, in recolle ing a dream,
fomething is always loft. The corner of every {lreet
prefented a beautiful fountain, from which. there
owed a pure and limpid ream that fell into a (hell,
whofe fuxface refembled the beaten lver, and the
tranfparency of the water invited the thirfty patien-
gers to a falutary refrefhment. The clear ream
that fell from the fountain, as it owed through the
meets, plentifully wafhed the pavement.
Behold the projeé t of your M. Defparcieux,
member of the academy of fbiences, completely acv
complifhed. See how every houl e is furniihed with
that
It is only in France, that the art of keeping lence is
not regarded as a merit. A Frenchmim is not more ea ly
known by his countenance and his accent than by the lege-
rity with which he talks and determines on all fubjeéts; he
never knows how to fay, I underfland nothing of that."
34 THE NEW PARIS.
that which is of all things the :molt ufeful, the mail
nece at y. Wth elegance to our dwellings, what
refrelhment to [the air, is derived from this ngle cir-
cumttance.
We no longer ereé t-thofe dangerous chimnies
which threatened to crufh each pairenger by their
fall; our roofs have not that Gothie deelivity, from
Which a gu of wind could blow the tiles into the
moft freqiiented reets. -We afcended to the top of
one of their houfes by a luminous airicafe. What
a pleafure was it to me, who love the free air and an
exten ve profpeét, to nd the tops of the houfes or-
namented with pots of flowers, and covered with
fweet-fccnted arbours; the fummit of each heufe of-
fered fuch a terrae, and as they were all of an equal
height, they formed together one vaft and delightful
garden; f0 that the whole city, when viewed from the
top of tome tower, appeared to be crowned with ver-
dure, fruits, and owers.
I need not tell you, that the Hotel Dieu was no
longer inclofed in the centre of the city. If any
ranger or citizen falls lick, when dittant from his
country or his family, we do not, they faid, imprifon
him as they did in your time, in a noifome bed, be-
tween a corpfe and one expiring in agonies, to breathe
the noxious vapours from the dead and the dying,
and convert a mple indifpo tion into a cruel difeale.
We have divided that hofpital into twenty di in-ft
houfes, which are placed at the di erent extremities
of the city. By that means, the foul air which ex-
haled
THE NEW PARIS. 3;;
haled from. that horrid gulph * is d_ifperfed, and B0
longerrdrangerous to the capital. The_ ck, more
over, are not driven to thofe hofpitals by extreme in'-.
digence'; they do not go thither already {ti'uckiwith-
the idea of death, and merely to fecure an interment;
but becaufe they there nd more ready and ef cacious
fuccour than in their own habitations. You there no
longet fee that horrid mixture, that {hocking confu-
on, which announced it place of vengeance rather
thanof charity. 'Each patient has a feparate bed;
and can'expir-e without reviling the human race.
They have {crutinized the accounts of the direétors.
O Ihamel O grief! O incredible guilt! that men
{hould enrich themfelves with the fubflance of the
poor, nd happinefs in the miferies of their felloW-i
creatures,drive a gainful bargain with death ! But
no more; the time for thefe iniquities~is palt; the
afylum of the wretched is regarded as the temple
where the Divinity pours, his facred influence with
the
* 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
lth, and abounds with the feeds of corruption, is drank by
one halfof the city. In that part of the river which wafhes
the quay Pelletier, and between the two bridges, a great
nuihber of dyers pour in their dregs three times a week.
I have feen the water retain a dingy hue for more than x
hours after. The arch that compofes the quay de Gevres
is the [ink of peflilence; the inhabitants of all that part of
the town drink an infected water, and breathe empoifoned
air. The money that is to prodigally {pent in re works
would be fu icient to rid the city of this curfe.
36 THE NEW PARIS.
the greate : complacency ;. thofe enormous abufes
are alL correé ted, andthe poor tick mortal has notv
nothing to encountcr'but his difeafe, and, oppre 'ed
by that alone, lye {utters in lence 1 .
Learned and humane phy cians here a iduou y
examine each particular patient; not pronounce fen-
tence of death, by promifcuoufiy diétatirtg general
precepts. By their oifcerning and attentive condué t,
health is {con re ored. The phyticians we rank
among the mo refpec table of our citizens; In faft,
what.
* I have fometimes walked with ow and folitary eps
through the wards of the Hotel Dieu at Paris. What
place more pt opei to meditate on the fate of man .> I have
feen there inhuman avarice decorated with the name ofpnb-
lic charity ; 1 have feen the dying crowded clofer-together
than they'ought to have been in the grave, prectpttate the
death of their miferable companions; I have feen their
pangs and their tears regarded with a general unconcern ;
the {word of death {truck on the right and on the left,
and not a figh was heard : one would have thought that
they were killing beu s in a aughterhoufe. I have feen
men {0 hardened by this fight, as to wonder that. any one
fiottld he a l éted. A few days after, 1 have been at
the opera. \Vhat a {refute amufement! Decorations,
aétot s, mnfieians! an enormous expence to procure a port -
yous entertainment! What Will potterity fay, when they
iztil he told that tvto {0 different places could htbti in the
fame city. How, alas! can they exi on the fame {pot ?
Does not the one n.cetTariiy exclude the other? A {hort
time after the royal academy of mu c ovenvhelmed my
foul ; the r fh'oke of-the bow brought before my eyes
the monrnful bed of thofe dying vuetches.
2
THE - NEW .PA RIS; 3.7
What employment more amiable, more illu rious,
more worthy of a virtuous and fagacious being, than
to preferve the delicate thréad of our days, by na-
ture frail and eeting, but by art rendered {trong
and durable ? -" But your general hofpital, where is
that tuated ? We have no general hofpital *,
no Bicetref, rio places of con nement, orrétther dif-
traétion. A found body has no need of the cautery.
Luxury, in your time, had gangrened the vital parts
of your conf titution ; your political body was cover-
ed with ulcers ; and, in ead of gently healing thofe
fhameful fores, you added to them .frefh maiignity.
You
* The Hofpital General of Pttris is a Fort of general
work-houfe. It is {aid to contain ten or eleven thouland
perfons.
"r In the prifun 0f the Bicetre, there'is a room called the
Sane de Force, that is a type of the infernal regions. Six
hundred wretches, erouded together, oppre 'ed by their
miferies, by a foul air, by the vermin that devour them,
by defpair, and by a rancoui; {till moretrueh live in the
fermentation of a i ed rage : it is the pnnifhment of
Mezen tius a thonfztnd times multiplied (11). The magif-
trates are deaf to the cries of thefe unhappy people. We
have feen them murder their gaolers, the furgeons, the
very prief't that attended them, with the {ole view of being
delivered 'from that place and expiring with more freedom
on the fcafFold. It has been ju ly remarked, that death
would be it lets barbarous punilhment than what they
fu 'er. 0 ye inhuman magi rates! iron-hearted wretches,
unworthy the name of men! you offend againft humanity
1 Vide Virg. 1En.1ib. viii. ver. 483.
E iil
38» THE NEW PARIS.
You thought to have textinguifhed vice by cruelty ;
inhuman becaufe you were incapable of forming ju :
laws *2
You found it more eafy to torment the guilty
and uhfortuna re than to prevent diforder and mifery.
Your barbarous violence has only fervéd to harden
the hearts'of ci'iminals, and to make them more def-
perate. And what have you gained by this conduét ?
Tears, diftraéted cries, and curfes. You feem to
have modelled your places of con nement after your
idea
{lill more than thofe you punifh! No band of ru 'ians in the
midft of their ferocity, ever exercifed cruelties like yours.
Dare to feem {till more inhuman, but execute more {peedy
juftice; fet re to their prilon, and burn them all alive;
you will {pare them the greater mifery of attending your
determinations in their horrible avery : but, alas! you
feem only anxious to protraét it.
Might not each of thefe unhappy men, have a heavy
weight xed to his foot, and be fent to till the ground?
No; they are the' viéliiiis of an arbitrary power that you
would conceal from every eye. I underftand you.
* Yes, magi rates, it is your ignorance, your idlencfs,
and precipitation, that'caufe defpair among the poor. You
imprifon a man for a mere tri e, and place him by the
de of a mifcreant : you corrupt, you poifon his mind, and
then leave him, forgot, amid a herd of abandoned
wretches; but he does not forget your injuflice: as you
obferve no proportion between the crime and the punilh-
ment, he imitates your example, and all things become to
him equal.
THE NEW PARIS. 39
idea of that horrible dwelling you called the infernal
regions, Where the mini ers oi vengeance accumug
late tortures, for the horrid pleafure of in iétingia
la ing puniihment on beings full of agony and im-
ploring mercy.
To conclude, for to enumerate all would take
up too much time, you even knew not how to em-
ploy youf beggars ; the utmoft difcemment of your
government con ed in Ihutting them up, and leav-
ing them to perifh with hunger. Thefe wretches,
Who expired by a ow death in a corner of the king-
dom, have notwith anding made us hear their
groans; we have not been deaf to their obfcure
complaints; they have pierced through a feries of
feven ages; and your bafe tyranny in that in ance
has recalled a thoufand others.
I held down my head, and was unable to reply;
for I had been a witnefs to thefe cruelties, which I
could only lament, for more was not in my power 9".
After a f hort filence, faid I, Ah ! do not renew the
wounds of my heart. God has avenged the evil
they did to mankind; he has punilhed the hardnefs
of their hearts; you know But let us purfue our
walk. You have, I think, quered one oFour political
evils to fub : Paris appears to me as populous as
in my time; and it was then proved, that the head
E 2 was
1 I have fatis ed my heart, and executed jultice, in an-
nouncing this inva on ofhumanity, this horrid outrage that
will fcarce be believed : but, alas! it neverthelefs fub s.
49 THE NEW PARIS.
wasthree times too large for the body. 1 am well
pleafed to in orm you, replied my guide, that the
nuinber ofinhahitants in the kingdom is doubled; that
.all the lands are cultivated; and confequentiy the
head bears now a juft proportion to the members.
This great city con antiy produces as many men of
the r raitk, men of learning, of ufefui induftry,
and re ned genius, as all the other cities of France
together. But one word more, of too much im-
portance to be forgot: Do you place yot'tr magazines
of powder in the centre of the city if We are far
from that imprudence. Nature produces fuf cient
cxpio ens. \Ve need not con t uét thofe that are
arti eiii , and would be a hundred times mare dan-
gerous *.
C H A P.
* There are magazines of powder in the centre of aimott
every town The lightning, and a thoufund other unfore
{een, nay, unknown incidents, may blow them up. A
thoufund terrible examples (a thing {carce credible) have
not been fu tcient t0 correft even to this hour, the weak-
nefs of mankind. The iofs of two thoufand ve hundred
people, who perithcd in the ruins at Brcfcia, williperhaps
render our governors attentive to an evil, which may ju ly
be called the work; of their hands, as it is in their power fo
eatiiiy to prevent it.
CHA P. IX.
THE PE I I TIONS.
I OBSERVED feveral o icers, habited with
the en gus of their rank, who came to receive the
complaints of the people, and make a faithful report
of them to the chief magi rates. Every thing that
regarded the admini ration 0f the police was treated
with the greate : difpateh; ju ice was rendered to
the injured;'and every one bleiied the 'admini ra-
tors"; I poured forth my praifes on this wife and
prudent government. But, gentiémen, I (hid, you
are not entitled to all the glory of this in itution. In
my days, the city began to be well governed. A
vigilant police watched over every rank and alltranf-
a ions. One of thofe who maintained it in the
greateft order, deferves to be named with eulogy
amid : you. We read, Iamong his judicious ordi-
nances, that for abolifhing thofe ridiepious atid
heavy . gns whichidis gured the city, a_nd endanger-
ed the. pa 'engers; that for compiletiqgl, or rather
inventing, of lamps; and for the admirable plan of
a fpeedy {uppiy of water, by ,which the inhabitgmts
have
* When a mini er of Hate, by his bad managemem,
puts the monarchy in danger, or when a general {beds the
blood of the fttbjeéts to no Purpofe, and (hamefully lofes
31 battle, his puniihment is known; he is forbid to come
into the monarch s :prefence. '1 hits criines that may 'ruin
the_nation are treated as mere tri es.
E3
42 THE.PETITIONS.
have been preferved from thofe res which were
formerly f0 frequen .
It is true, they replied, that magi race was
indefatigable, and equal to the duties of his of ce,
exten ve as they were. But the police had not then
received its full perfeé tion ; fpies were then the prin-
cipal agents of a government weak, re lefsyand
mutinousf. They were moreover very frequently
employed in a criminal curio ty, rather than in
what (trié y regarded the public utility; all their
'difcoveries, f0 artfully procured, frequently pro-
duced nothing more than a falfe light that deceived
the magiitrate. What was worfe, this corps of in-
formers, feduced by bribes, became a corrupted mafs
that infeéted fociety; all the pleafures of couverfa-
tion were baniihedj; ; men could no longer open their
hearts
3 If this author thinks the res in Paris frequent, where
there is fcarce a houfe burned in a year, and where no one
everthoughtitworth while to ereét an of ce of infurance,
what would he fay to thofe at London .9 In fact the French
houfesare f0 confiruéted as not ea ly to be burned.
+ The quantity of {pics in Paris is incredible; be des a
great number who make it their {ole bu nefs, almo all
that large corps, who by day clean (hoes, and at night
carry a falot, that is, a farming cundleina paperlanthern,
are ofthat honourable order.
i All fuch frivolous and capricious regulations, all thofe
re nements in the police, can impofe on them only who
have never udied the heart of man. Such rigid re rié tions
produce
THE PETITIONS; 43
hearts to each other ; they were reduced to the cruel
alternative ofimprudence or hypocrify. In vain did
the foul {lruggle to exprefs its ideas of patrioti n;
it dared not declare its fentiments; {aw the {hate
that was fpread, and pierced with grief, returned
cold and folitary to its fecret abode. ' In a word, men
were then ince 'antly obliged to difguife their words,
their looks, and aétions. 0! how di raéting to the
generous foul, who faw the mon ers of his country
[mile while they preyed upon it; who faw, and dared
not point them out*.
C H A P.
produ e a hateful lubordination, fecured by bands on which
very little dependence Con be placed
* We have not yet had a Juvenal. What age ever more
deferved fuch a fatiri P jnvenal was not a fol fh wretch,
like the atterer Horace, or the in pid Boileau ; he had a
rm foul, that lhordughly detc ed vice, frankly declared
war again it, and purfued it when {heltered under the
purple. Who now dare a iune that fublime and generous
tafk ? Who now has fortitude fu icient to render up his
foul to truth, and fay to' his age, '1 leave thee the te a
ment that Virtue hath diC'tated to me; read and blufh: it
is thus I bid thee farewell.
,f. .44]
CHAR 'X.
THE MAN WITH A MASK.
BUT, pray, who is that man that paffes
with .a walk, on his face? How fa he walks, Or
rather ies !-. - It is an author that has wrote fa bad
hook, \Vhep I {ay bad, 1 {peak not of the defer
Qf j.gdgment or yle; gm excellent work may bemade
by the aid of plain ftrong fenfe alon_e* ~; I only mean
that he has publiihed dangerous principles fuch as
are incon itent with found morality, that univerfal
morality Whi9h fp¢aks t0 cveryheart- By way of
reparation. he wears a mafk, in order to hide .his
fhame, till he has e aced it by writing fomething
more rational and bene cial to fociety. He is
daily vi ted by two worthy citizens, who combat
his erroneousnpinions with the arms of eloquence
andwmplacency; hsar his objeé ons, con ne them,
:ahd will engage him to retras l when 31: fhall be
convinced. Then he will be re-e ablifhed; he will
even acquire 'from the eonfe ion of his errors a
greater glory; for what is more commendable than
to abjure our faultsf, and' to embrace new lights
with anoble ncerity ? But was his boek well
received 2
* Nothing is more true; for even the homily of fame
country curate is of more {olid utility, than a book artfully
lled with truths and fophifms.
+ All things are demon rative in theory ; even error has
its geometry.
THE MAN WITH A MASK. 45
receivei 3 What private perfon, I befeech you,
can dare to judge of a. book againi c the opinion of
the public ? Who can fay what can be the in uence
ofa particular fentimént in :1 particular circumitance?
Each author anfwers peri onally for what he writes,
and never conceals his name. It is the public that
marks him with dii'grace, if he oppofe thoie {acted
principles which ferve as the ba s to the eonduél and
probity ofman. He rhu ofhimfelflikewife {upport
any new truth that he advances, and that is proper
to fupprefs fome abufe. In a word, the public voice
is the folejudge in thefe cafes; audit is to that alone
regard is p'aid. Every author, as a public man, is
to be judged by the general voice, and not by the
céprice of a ngle critic, who rarely has a defcerm
ment {uf cientiy juft, 'and knowledge fuf ciently ex-
ten ve, to determine, what will appear to the body
of the people truly deferving of praife or blame.
It has been abundantly proved, that the liberty
of the prefs is the true meafurecf the liberty of the
people*. The one cannot be attacked without injury
to the other. Our thoughts ought to be perfeétly
free; to bridle them, or Ri e them in their £mé tuary,
is tie crime ofleze humanity. What can I call my
own, if my thoughts are not mine 2
In my time, I replied, men in power feared
nothing {0 much as the pen of an able writer; their
fouls, proud and guilty, trembled in their inmofi:
recefres,
" This is equivalent to a mathematical demon ration.
46 THE MAN WITH A MASK.
recelfes, when equity boldly plucked off the veil that
cdvered their 1:1me*. Therefore, in ead of pro-
teéting that public cenfure, Which, well adminltered,
would have been the Ptrongeft check to vice and folly,
they obliged all writings t0 pafs through a eve; and
one which was {'0 clofe that frequently the molt valu-
able parts were left behind. The ights of genius
were in fubjeélion to the cruel {hears lot" mediocrity,
who clipt its wings without mercyf. They began to
laugh. It muPc have been a droll ght, they
fai'd, to fee men gravely employed in cutting a
thought in tan, and weighing of fyllubles. It is
wonderful that you produced any thing good, When
[0 mckled. How is it pollible to dance with grace
and safe, when loaded with heaVy fetterSP Our bell;
Writers took the mof t natural means to Ihake them
off. Fear debafes the mind, and the man who is
animated with the love of humanity {hould have a
noble
* In a drama, intitled The Marriage ofa King s Son, 3
miniller ofjuflice, a court fcoundrel, lays to his valet, {peak-
ing of philofophical writers, This fort of people are
dangerous; we cannot countenance the leaft aft of injuflice
but they will remark it. It is in vain that we hide our faces
under an artful mafk from the moft difcerning pafl'enger.
Thefe men have a manner of laying, m pa mzt, I know
you." Me ieurs Philofophers, I hope you Will learn that
it is dangerous to know a man of my fort. I will not be
known by you.
1- One half of thofe they call royal cenforers cannot be
ranked among men of letters; not even thofe of the. loweft
clafs; for it may be literally {aid of them, that they know
not how t9 read.
THE MAN WITH A MASK. 47
noble and dauntlefs fpirit. You may now Write
againft all that offends you, they replied, for we
have no eves, nor lheers, nor manacles; yet very
few abfurdities are publifhed, becaufe they would. of
themfelves pcrifh' among their kindred dirt Our
government is far above all inveétive; it fears not
ghe ke'eneft pens; it would accufe itl elf by fearing
them. Its conduét is juf c and ncere ; we can only
extol it; and when the intereft of our cbuntry re-
quires, every man, .in his particular Ration, becomes
an author, without pretending to an exclu ve right
to that title. '
CHAP. XI.
THE NEW' TESTAMENTS.
O HEAVENS! What is it you tell mei
All the world authdrs! Why your walls will catch
re like gunpowder, and blow into the air. Mercy on
us! A whole nation of authors ! Yes; butiwith-
out ill-nature, pride or difdain. Every man writes
the thpughts that occur it; his brighteit moments;
at a certain age,_ he colleéts the mo judicious re-
eétions that he has made in the courfe of his days;
in his lal c years, he forms them into abook, greater
or lefs according to his talent for re eé tion, and
mode of expreflion. This hook is the foul of the
deCeafe-d. On the day of his funeral, it is read
aloud 5
43 THE NEW TESTAMENTS.
aloud ;»-.and that is his eulogy. Our children colleé t
with reverence all the re eétions of their forefathers,
and meditate on them. Thefe are our funeral urns ;
and feem to us more valuable than your fumptuous
maufcleums, your tombs covered with wretched
inferiptions, dlétated by pride, and executed by
bafenefs.
We thus make it a duty to leave ot1r defce'ndants
afaithful image of our IiVES» An hortourahle re-
membrance is the {ole property that can remam to us
Ion the earth*; and we do not negleét it. Thefe
immortal le i'ns that we leave our po erity make
us ill more beloved by them. Portraits and ames
preferve the body s femblance only. Why not re-
prefcnt the foul, and 'the virtuous fentlments by
which it was aEe&ed? They are multiplied by the
animated expre ion that a eé tion excites ; the hiftory
of our thoughts and of our aétions in ruét our fami-
lies; they l=arn,by the choice and conrparifon of
thoughts, to improve their menner of thll lklllg: and
judging. Obferve, moreover, that the predominant
writers, the'men of genius, in every age, are the
funs that attraét the mafs of ideas, and caufe them
to circulate. It is they that give the rt t movements;
and as their generous hearts burn with the love of
humanity, all other hearts obey that fublime rind
viétorious voice, Which has laid tyranny and fuper-
itiort
* Cicerofrequently afked himfelf what they would fay of
him after his death. The man who has no regard to repu~
tation. will negleét the means of acquiring it.
2
THE NEW TESTAMENTS. 49
Ptition in the du . Gentlemen, permit me, I en-
treat you, to defend my age, at leait in thofe points
in which it deferves commendation. We had, I
think; among us, fome men of virtue and of genius.
Yes, barbarians! but they were either difregard-
ed or perfecuted by you. We have thought ourfelves
obliged to make an expiatory reparation to their
offended names; we have ereéted their ames 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 ferric Zoilus or
tyrant; under the bufkin of Corneille, for example,
you will fee the head of Richelieu". Yes, there
were in your time men of amazing talents; and we
are unable to account for the foolifh brutal rage of
their perfecutors; they feem to have proportioned
their rancour to the degree of fublimity thofe eagles
attained ; but they are con gned to the opprobrium
which deferves to be their eternal inheritance.
On faying thefe words, he conduéted me towards
a. place where the [tatues of thofe great men Were
ereéted. There I {aw Corneille, Moliere, Fontaine,
Montefquieu, RoufTeau *, Bu on, Voltaire, Mira-
beau,
3' I heartily with the author had informed us on whofe
heads (tood the feet of Rou eau, Voltaire, and others whofe
names are ranked with thefe. We {hould certainly have
heard of heads mitred and unmitred, in an uncafy tituation;
but every one has his day.
1 Tl e author of Finilius is here meant, and not that
frothy poet, void of Ideas, who had no other talent than.
F t) uat
50 THE COLLEGE OF
beau, &c. All thefe celebrated writers are then
known to you ? Their names form our children s
alphabet; and when they attain the age of ration<
ality, we put into their hands your famous Encyclo-
pedic Diétionary, which we have carefully digef ted.
- You furprife me! the Encyclopedia! an elementary
bobk! 0 what a ight you mu ; have taken toward
the higher fciences! and how do I burn to receive
in ruétion from you! Let me behold your treafures,
and enjoy in one in ant the accumulated labours of
x glorious centuries.
m:
CH A P. XII.
THE COLLEGE OF QUATRE NATIONS*.
DO you teach your children Greek and La-
tin? In my time they tortured them with thofe lan-
guages. Do you confecrate ten years, the molt pre-
cious and plea ng of their lives, in glvmg them'a
fuper cial tinétnre of two dead languages they Will
never fpeak?- We know better how to employ
their time. The Greek language is doubtlefs very
venerable, on account of its antiquity; but we have
Homer,
that of arranging words, and givmg thern a ftitious pomp,
under which he hid the {terility of his invention, and the
torpid Rate of his genius.
4" See the note *on page 30.
QQATRE NATIONS. SI
Homer, Plato, and Sophocles perfeé tly tran ated 5*,
whatever fome pedants may have {aid of the impof-
hility of expre ing their beauties. As to the Latin
language, which, being more modern, niuPt in confe-
quence be lefs excellent. It has died a natural death}?
How is that ? - The French language has pre-
vailed univerfally. 'They at rf t made fuch nifhed
tran ations as almof t rendered it fuper uous to have
recourfe to the originals; and they have nee com-
pofed fuch works as are worthy to efface thofe of the
ancients. Thefe new poems are incomparably more
ufeful, and more intere ing to us, more relative to
our manners, to our government, to our progrefs in
philofophical knowledge and in politics, and la ly to
that moral view of which we fhould never lofe ght.
The two antiquated languages, of which we {hall fay
more hereafter, are now ufed by a few learned men
only. We read Livy. almo ; in the fame manner as
we do the A1coran. I perceive the college, how-
ever, [till bears on its front, in large charaéters, Ecol:
#53 .Quam: Na!iom. We have preferved thig build-
ing, and even its name, in order to apply it to better
purpofes. There are now four clafres in this college,
who
* In ead of giving us differtations on the head of Anu-
bis, on O ris, and a thoufand u(elefs rhapfodies, why do
not the members of the Royal Academy of lnfcriptions
eniploy their time in tran ating the Greek authors, whom
they pretend to under and (0 well? Demoflhenes is {carce
known to us. That wouid be of more utility than to know
what fort of pins the Roman ladies wore in their head-
dref's, the form of their-necklace, and whether the clafps of
their gowns were round or oval.
F2
g2 THE COLLEGE 01
who are taught talian, Englifh, German and Spani i.
Enriched with the treafures of thefe livinglanguages,
we do not in the lcal t envy the ancients. This lzift
nation, which contained within itfelf the feeds of
grandeur, that nothing could dei troy, has been fud-
denly enlightened by one of thofe powerful rokes,
that it is impo lhle to expect or forefee; the revolu-
tion has been as fudden as happy, becaufe the light
fell at rft 0n the head; whereas, in other Rates, that
has been almolt always plunged in darknefs.
Stupidity and pedantry are hanii hed from this col-
lege: and {trangers have been invited thither to faci-
litate the pronunciation of the languages there taught.
The beft authors in each of them have been tranf-
lated. Fxom this mutual correfpondence maITes of
light have been reciprocally re eéled. Another ad-
vantage arifes from this, which is, that as the com-
merce of thoughts is extended, natural prejudices are
infen bly extinguifhed; men have been convinced
that a i ew particular cufloms ought not to de roy
that univerfal reafon which {peaks from one end 012
the world to the other; and that their thoughts were
in reality very neat the fame on thofe fnbjeéts, that
have occa oned fuch long and warm difputes. . _.
But what does the univer ty, that eldeft daughter of
our kings ? - She is become a ca -cffmi refs. That
old maiden, after receiving the laft ghs of a {21PM-
dious and affeéled language, would have pafTed it on.
the world for new, blooming, and enchanting. She,
tranfpofed the periods, mangled the hemiftics, and in
a barbarous and ovenlyjargon, pretended to revxlve
t 1e
OLJATRE NATIONS. 53
the language of the Augu an age. It Was at la :
perceived, that her difcordmt voice was near exhauft.
ed, and that {he brought a yawning upon the court,
the city, and ef'pecially on her difciples. By an arret
of the French academy, {he was ordered to appear
before their tribunal, to give an account of the good
{he had done for the four lalt centuries; during which
{he had been fupported, honoured, and- pen oned.
She would haveiplea'ded her caufe in her ludicrous
idiom, which certainly the Latins themfelves would
never have under ood; for of the French the was
totally ignorant; {he therefore dared not to hazard
herfelf before her judges.
The academy took pity on her embarraHment;
{he was charitably ordered to remain lent. They
had afterwards the humanity to teach her the lan-
guage of the nation; and from that time defpoiled
of her cowl, her crabbed looks, and her ferule, fhe
has applied herfelf [01er to the teaching of that ne
language, which the French academy is every day
improving; and which, lefs timid, lefs fcrupulous;
eorreéts it, without always diminifhing its force.
And the military academy, what is become ofthat?-
It has {uttered the defliny ofall the reft of the col-
leges. It contained every other abufe be des thofe
that were peculiar to its in itution. Men are not
made as they make foldiers. Pardon me, if I trefi
pafs on your indulgence ; but this point is of too much
importance to be abandoned. In my youth, they
talked of nothing but education. Each pedant made
his book, and well it was, if merely Rupid. The heft
E3 of
54 THE COLLEGE'OF
ofthem all, the moft mple, the molt rational, and,
at the fame time, the molt profound, was burned by
the hands of the common hangman, and decried by
thofe who under ood no more of it than that hang
man 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 in itution. But to con ne our
felves to the culture of the mindz while we fami-
liarize our children with the letters, we bring them
acquainted with the operations of algebra. That
art is mple, of general utility, and not more dif cult
to learn than it is to read; even the fhadow of dif -
culty has been removed; the algebraic charaétens no
longer pafs among the vulgar for thofev of magic *.
We have found that this feience habituates the mind
to con der matters rigoron y as they are: and that
thi5\mode of reafoning is of the-highe importance
when applieJ to the fciences.
They formerly taught youth a multiplicity of
knowledge that in no degree eonduced- to the happi-
nefs
" Soon after the art of printing was known at Paris, fome
one undertook to print .Euclid s' Elements. The wotkman
employed, feeing it contain a number of {quares, Circles,
triangles, &c. imagined that it was a book of forcery, 1n-
tended for railing the devil, who, for ought he knew,
might fetch him away in the mid of his work; he there.
fore declined it; but his mailer in f ted on his perfevering.
The poor fellow, believing that they were determined on
his de ruftion, was f0 terri ed, that, deaf to reufon and ms.
confeffor, he died of-the fright a few days after.
(mA rRE NATIONS. 55
nefs of life. We have felec ted thofe O_bj'eéts only that
will give them true and ufeful ideas; they were in~
Pcru ed univerfally in two dead languages, which
were imagined to contain every fort of fcience, but
which could not give them the lealt idea ofthofe men
with whom they were to live. We content ourfelves
with teaching them the national language, and even
permit them to modify it after their own ta e; for we
do not with to form grammarians, but men of elo-
quence. The yle refembles the man; and the man
of genius cught to haye a correfpondent idiom; very
different from the nomenclature, the only refource
of weak minds, whofe memories are treacherous.
W'e teach them little hiltory, becaufe hi ory is the
difgrace ofhumanity, every page being crowded with
crimes and follies. God forbid that we fhould fet be-
fore their eyes fuch eftamples of rapine and ambition.
By the pedanti'y of hi ory, kings have been raifed
t-o gods. We teach our children a logic more cer-
tain, and ideas more jult. Thofe frigid chronologi s,
thofe nomenclatures of every age, all thofe roman-
tic or debafed writers, Who have been the rft to how
down before their idols, are obliterated, together with
the panegyri s of the princes 0f the earth 9". What!
when the time is {0 {hort and rapid, {hall We employ
our children in crowding their memories with a num-
ber
From Pharamond to Henry IV. we can fcarce name
two kings, 1 will not fay who knew how to reign, but who
knew how to employ that good fenfe in their adminiflration
that a private perfon oblerves in the economy of his u
mily.
56 THE COLLEGE OF
her of names; of dates, of faéts, and genealogical
trees? What wretched tti ing, when the valt elds
of morality and phy cs lie open before us! It is to
no purpofe to fay that hiltory furnifhes examples of
in ru ion to fucceeding ages; they are pernicious
and infamous examples*, that ferve merely to en-
courage arbitrary power, and _ to render it more
haughty and more cruel, by {hewing that men have
in_all ages bowed the neck like Haves; by expo ng
the fruitlefs efforts of liberty, expiring uridert the at-
tacks of men who founded a modern tyranny'on that
of the ancients. If a man of an amiable, virtuous
charaéter arofe, his cotemporaries were mon ers, by
whom all his efforts were rendered abortive. This
pié ture of virtue trampled under foot is d oubtlefs
very ju ; but at the fame time, it is highly dangerous
to be expofed. It is only for the man of determined
refolution to behold {uch a reprefentation without
terror; and he feels a fecret joy in refleéling on the
tran ent triumph of vice, and the eternal reward that
is the portion of virtue. But from children fuch pic-
tures {hould be concealed; they {hould be made to
contraét a placid habit, with notions of order and
equity, which fhould, f0 to fpeak, compote the [ub-
ance
" The {cene changes in hi ory, it is time, but for the
molt part to introduce new eVils; for kings are followed by
an indi oluble chain of calamities. A monarch, on his
advancement to the throne, thinks he does not reign, if he
purfue the ancient plans; the old fy ems that have coft f0
much blood, muft he aboliihed, and new ones efiabli ied;
thefe agree not with the former, and at the lame time are
not lefs prejudicial.
Q UATRE NATIONS. 57
flame of their minds. 6 do not teach them an
idle moritlity that contifls in frivolous qneflions, but
orie that is pra icable and may be applied to all
their a ions, that {peaks by images, that forms their
hearts to humanity, to courage, and t0 {acri ce {elf-
inteieft, or, to fay all in one word, to genero ty.
We have a fu icient contempt for metaphy cs,
thofe gloomy regions where every one ereé ts a fyitem
of chimeras, and always to no purpofe. It. is from
thence they have drawn imperfeé t images of the dii
vinity, have dis gured his e ence by re ning or. his
attributes, and have confounded human reafon by
placing it on a ippery and moveable point, from
whence it is continually ready to fall into doubt. It
is by phy cs, that key to nature, that living and pal-
pable fcience, we are enabled to run through the la-
byrinth of this marvellous affemblage of beings, and
to perceive, the wifdom and power of the Creator;
that feience properly inve igated, delivers us from
an in nity of errors, and the unformed mafs of pre-
judices give place to that pure light which it fprea-ds
over all objeéts.
At a certain age we permit a young man to read
the poets. Thofe of the prefent day know how to
unite wifdom with enthu afm; they do not deceive
reafon by a cadence and harmony of words, and nd
themfelves led, as it were againl t their inclination,
into the falfe and the capricious; nor do they amufe
themfelves with dreHing of puppets, with {pinning of
qqunters, or {baking the cap and bells. They are
the
58 \VHERE IS THE SORBONNE?
the recorders 0f thofe great ailions that illulirate
humanity; their heroes are taken from all nations
where are to be found courage and virtue; that fall e
and venal clarion which vauntingly attered the
cololTes of the earth, is totally deltroyed. Poetry hus
preferved that vetidical trumpet only, which can re-
found through a long feries of ages, hecaufe it de-
clares, ft) to fay, the judgment of polkerity. Formed
by fuch models, our children acquire jult ideas of
true greatnefs; and the plow, the fhuttle, and the
hammer: are become more biilliant objeéts than the
fceptre, the diadem, and the imperial robe.
C H A P XIII.
WHERE IS THE SORBONJVE?
IN what language then difpute the doétors of
the Sorbonne? Have they (till their ludicrous pride,
their long gowns, and their furred hoods? There
are now no difputations at the Sorbonne; for {ince
the French language has been every where ufed, that
troop 0f wranglers has difappeared. The roofs, thank
heaven, no longer echo to barbarous terms, though
[till lefs extravagant than the abfurdities they were
intended to exprefs. We difcovered that the featS'
on which thefe whim cal doétors fat, were formed
of a certain wood, whofe baheful quality difordered
the belt formed head, and taught it to fophi icate
methodi.
WHERE IS THE SORBONNE? 59
methodically. i O! that I had been born in your
age ! Thofe mil'erable manufaéturers of fyllogifms
were the perfecutors of my younger days. i thought.
myfelf for a long time dellitute of all ability, becaufe
I could not undei'l tand their arguments. But what
have you done with the palace ereéted by that car-
dinal * who made wretched verfes with enthuliafm,
and cut off worthy heads with all the coolnefs pof-
blc 9 That large building contains feveral {pa-
cious apartments, where they now purfue a courfe of
ltudies far more ufe xl to humanity. They then
diffeé t all forts of dead bodies; fagacious anatomi fts
fearch in the receffes ofthe dead, the means of dimi-
nilhing the phy cal evils of the living. In ead of
analyling ridiculous propo tions, they endeavour to
difcover the fecret origin of thofe maladies that tors-
ment us; and the deceafed thus contribute to the
good oftheir po erity. Such are the doétors now ho-
houred, ermobled, and penlioned by the Rate. Surgery
15 moreover now united with phy c, and the latter is
no longer at variance with itfelf.
0 happy prodigy! they talk of the animo ty of
contending beauties, of thejealous fury ofpoets, and
of the rancour of painters; but thofe are tender pat"-
ons in comparifon of that hatred Which in my time
in amed
O cruel Riehlieu, thou~rue£ul author of all our mire-
ries, how I hate thee! How doth thy name di i'afi: my
ear!. After having dethroned Lewis X11]. it was thou that
eflablifhed an arbitrary power in France. Since that pe.
riod this nation has never performed any great a ion; and
what can be expeé'ted from a people of aves?
60 WHERE IS "THE SORBONNE?
in amed the fons of Efculapius. We have Tech
more than once, as a certain droll expre l d it, phytic
on the point of calling furgery to its aid.
All is now changed; friends, and not rivals,
they now form one body only; they afford each
other mutual a if tance, and their operations, thus
united, fometimes appear almoi t miraculous. The
phy cian does not difdain to praétife himfelfthe ope-
rations that,he thinks necefiary; when he prefcnbes
any remedies, he does not leave the care of pre-
paring them to a fubaltern, who, by negligence or
ignorance might render them mortal; butyudges
with his own eyes of the quality, the quantity and
manner of compounding them; a matter of the
greate importance, as on that the Cine abfolutely
depends. The lick man does not now ice by his bed-
{ide three praétitioners who ludicroufly contemn each
other, difputc, fneer, and watch for fome blunder of
their rivals, with which they might divert themfelves
at their leifure. A phy cian is no longer a com-
pound of the moth oppo te principles ; the patient s
{tomach is not now the {pot where the poifons 0f the
fouth rencounter thofe of the north; the bene cent
juice of plants, natives of our foil, and adapted to our
temperaments, di ipate each noxious humour With-
out de roying our entrails.
This art is efteemed above all others ; for they
have now b uniihed the fyitemntic fpii-it and that blind
rotation of praé tice, which was as deitru ive to
mankind as the rapacity of kings and the cruelty of
their
WHERE IS THE SORBONNE? 6}
their miniilers. I am charmed to hear that mat-
ters are thus; your phyticians appear to me highly
amiable, as they are no longer avaricious and cruel
empirics, fometimes addiéted to a dangerous rota-
tion of praétice, 2nd fometimes, by making barba-
rous experiments, prolong the fuff erings of the
ek, whom they at lat t affa iuate without remorfe.
But, pray, to what oor will they go up ? To
every oor where there is any one in want of their
afhftance. That s wonderful: in my time, the
moit eminent among them would never go higher
than the rft oor and as certain fine ladies admit
no vi tors that do not wear laced ru ies, f0 they
would cure no patients that did not keep an equipage.
A phy cian among us, who iould be guilty of
fuch inhumanity, would amp an indelible difgrace
on his charaéter. Every one has a right to fend for
them; they feek only to re ore health to the ck;
and if he be not able which is rarely the cafe, to offer;
a fuf cient gratuity, the Rate then provides it. Every
month a regifter is made of the fiek that die or are
cured ; the names of the dead are always followed
by thofe of their phy cians; and each one is to give
an account of his prefcriptions, and ju ify his man-
ner of treating the lick. This detail is laborious;
but the life ofa man appears to us of too much im;
portance to omit any means ofpreferving it; and the
phy cians themfelves are intere ed in obferving this
fagzcious law.
They have rendered their art more mple, and
di-vefted themfelves of many branches offeienee that"
G are
62 WHERE IS THE SORBONNE?
are abfol utely foreign to the art of healing. You
thought unjuitly, that a phylician s head lhould con-
tain every fcience po ible; that he fhould be a com-
plete matter of anatomy, chemiftry, botany and the
mathematics; and though each of thefe arts require
the whole life of a man, yet your phy cians were in
no e eem unlefs they were be des men of talte, wit,
and humour. Ours con ne themfelves to a thorough
knowledge of difeafes, to a critical difcernment of
of their leveral divilions, and-of the fymptoms that
attend them, and moreparticularly to the di inguilh-
ing of the temperaments in general, and that ofaach
patient in particular. They ufefcarce any of thofe
remedies oalled precious, or of fecret and my erious
compo tions ; they nd a {mall number of medicines
fu 'lcient ; they have difcovered that nature aéts uni-
formly in the vegetation of plants and in the nutrition
ofanimals. vBehold the gardener, they fay; he is
de rous that the fap, that is, the univerfal fpirit,
circ.ulate_equally in every part of the tree. The
difeafes of the plant arife from the glutinous Rate of
that wonderful uid. In like manner, all the difor-
ders that a lift the human race proceed from the
coagulation of the blood and humours; reltore them
to their natural dilution, and as [con as the circula-
tion attains its juft courfe, health begins to be re-
- 0red *. This being premifed, there is no need of
a'very exten ve knowledge to attain thefeends, for
they
* This is not {triflly true; if it were, whenever the
uids were fuf ciently diluted, the body would be in health,
which, uuhappily, is by no means the Cale.
HOSPITAL FOR INOCULATION. 63
they prefent themfelves to us. We con der all the
odoriferous plants as univerfal remedies, feeing they
abound in volatile falts, which are in the highel c
degree proper to dilute the vifcous blood. Thefe
are the molt preciOus gifts of nature for the prefer-
vation of health. We adminil ter them to all the
ck, and have con antly found them to effeét a
cure*.
l
l
OHA P. XIV.
THE HOSPITAL FOR INOCULATION.
PRAY, tell me what building is that I fee,-
which (lands by itfelf, at a dillance in the elds ?
,~ It is the hofpital for inoculation; a praé tice op-
pol'ed in your days; as were all the good things,
that were o ered to you. You mul chave been egre-
giou y obltinate, when fuch manifelt 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 rous ofrehgning their fcepters into the hands
of
* Though there is fcarce any difcafe that may no! be
cured by the juice of plants, properly prepared, yet as tl
mofl ef cacious remedies we know are obtained from mi-
nerals, it would be as extravagant totally to reject them
as to exclude the others.
G2
64 IIOSPIPAL FOR INOCULATION.
0f Pinto, you would never have v'entured on that
happy difcovery. Succefs has fairly crowned it,
the homely dames were obliged to remain iilent,
and they who had no diadems Were neverthelefs de-
reus of remaining fome time longer here below.
' Sooner or later truth will prevail over the molt
ixttraé tahle {pirits. We now praé tife inoculation,~ as
they did in your time in China, Turkey and England.
We are far from profcribing falutary aids becaufe
they are new; we have not, as you had, a rage for
dil putation, merely for the fake of making a gure
.in the eye of the public. Thanks to our indultry,
and to a fpirit of inquiry, we have difcovered many
admirable fecrets, which I have not now time to ex-
plain to you. A profound [ludy of thofe wonderful
mples which you trod under foot, has taught us
the art of curing the confumption, the phthi c, the
idropfy, and other diforders, Which your remedies, of
whofe virtL ies you had little knowledge, commonly
made worfe; the hygiena* efpecizllly is {0 clearly
'inveltigated, that each one is able to take care ofhis
own health. We do not depend entirely on the phy.
cian, how {killful foever he may be. We apply
curfelves t0 the Rudy of our own temperaments, and
not leave it to be gue ed at by a Granger on the rft
ght. Temperance, moreover, that true reflorative
and confervative elixir, contributes to form bodies
healthful and vigorous, and that contain minds pure
and {ttong as their blood.
CHAP.
1' The art of Preferving health.
[65]
CHAP. XV.
THEOLOGY 1ND ?URISPR UDENGE.
HAPPY mertals ! you have then no theolo-
gians among you" ? I fee none of thofe mighty
volumes that feemed to be the pillars of our libraries,
thofe ponderous folios, that none-but the printer, I
fhouldimagine, ever read. Theology, lloWever, is
a fublime fcience, and As ouronly contemplation
on the SupremeBeing is to praife and adore him in
lence, without difputing On his divinerattributes,
which are for ever infcrutable, we have determined
never more to write on that topic; f0 much too {ub-
lime for our intelligence. It is the foul that commu-
nicates with God, and it has no need of foreignaids
to raife itfelf up to him'l .
at A11
* We {hould not here confound the moralifts with the
theologians; the former are the benefaétors, the latter the
opprobrium and fcourge ofmankind .
+Let us defccnd into ourfelves, and aik our own minds,
from whence they receive perception and thought? they
will reveal to us their happy dependence ; they will attei c
that Supreme intelligence, from which they are nothing
more than feeble emanations. When the mind i e e s on
its own nature, it cannot diveft itfelfoi the idea of that God
of whom it is the offspring and image; it cannot doubt of
its heavenly origin. This is a truth of perception that has
been'common to all people. The man of fen bility will be
G 3 . ruck
66 THEOLOGY AND JURISPRUDENCE.
All the volumes oftheology, as well as thofe of
jurifprudence, are con ned by large bars of iron in
the fubteraneous apartments of the library; and if
we fhould have a war with any neighbouring nation,
in ead of attacking them with our cannon, we {hall
fend 'thefe pe iferous works among them: we pre-
ferve thefe volcanoes of inflammable matter merely
for the de ruétion of our enemies, which they will
certainly eEeél, by. means of their fubtle poifons, that
feize at once the head and the heart.
To live without theology, I can eafily enough con-
ceive; but how without law, I can by no means com-
prehend. We have a jurifprudence; but di 'erem:
from yours, which was both Gothic and capricious.
You (till bore the marks of your ancient fervitude;
you adopted laws that were made neither for your
cufto'ms nor your climate. As almoft every indi-
vidual became, by degrees, enlightened, they have
refor'med thofe abufes, that made of the fané tuary of
ju ice a den of thieves. \Ve are aftonifhed how
that foul mon er, that de royed the Widow and the
inhan, could triumph {0 long unpunifhed; nor can
we conceive how it was po ible for a pettifogger to
pafs the reets of the city without being [toned by
thofe he had brought to defperation.
The
ruck With the profpeé t of nature, zind without difficulty
acknowledge a muni cent 'God, who has in (tore for us
other bounties. The man void of fen bility will not join
to our praifes the hymn of his admiration. The heart that
never loved was that of the r athei .
THEOLOGY AND }URISPRUDENCE. 57
The potent arm which bears the {Word ofju ice
has fmote that enormous body, but void of foul,
in which were united the avidity of the wolf, the
cunning of the fox, and the croaking of the raven,
Their own fubalterns, whom they made to perifh by
famine and vexation were the r : to reveal their
iniquities, and to arm 'again : them. Themis com.
manded,. and the herd difappeared. Such was the
tragical end of thofe rapacious vermin, who deftroy-
ed whole families by blotting ofpaper.
But in my time they pretended, that'without their
aid at con derable part of the citizens would remain
idle at the tribunals, and that the courts ofjuftice
themfelves might po ibly become the theatres of
licence and diforder. They were certainly the
proprietors of {tamped paper, who talked in that
manner. Bht how can caufes be decided without
the aid cfgttornies? 0, our caufes are decided in
the ba mannerimaginable. We have referved the
order of counfellors, who know the dignity and et-
cellence of their in itution, and being [till more dif-
intere ed, they have become more refpeé tahle. It
is they who take upon them to explain clearly and
concifely the caufe of complaint, and that without
vehemence or exaggeration. We do not nowfee a
pleader, by labouring a tedious in pid brief, though
ftuffed with inve ives, heat himfelf to :1 degree that
cof ts him his life. The bad man can nd no advo-
cate among thefe defenders of equity; their honour
is anfwerabie for the caqfe they undertake; they
oblige the guilty, by refuting to defend them, to ap-
pear
63 THEOLOGY AND JURISPRUDENCE.
pear trembling and endeavour to excufe themfelves
before a. court where theyhave no advocate.
Every man now enjoys the primitive right of
pleading his own caufer They never fuffer a procefs
to have time fuf cient to become perplexed ; they are
inveltigated and determined in their origin; the
longefttime that is allowed for the developing any
caufe, when it is obfcure, is that of a year ; the
judges, moreover, never receive any prefents; they
became a(hamed of that difgracefnl privilege, by
which, at rlt, they received but tri es, but, at laft,
exaéled the molt enormous fums" ; they were fen-
ble that they thereby gave examples of x'apacity;
and that if there be any cafe in which interelt ought
not to prevail, it is in that' important and awful in-
flance where man pronounces in the facred name of
jultice. -I nd that you have made amazing altera-
tions in our laws. Your laws! Stop there. How
could you give that title to an indige ed mafs of
contradié tory cul toms, to thofe old {battered papers
that contained nothing but ideas without conneétion
and grotchue precedencies? How could you adopt
that barbarous mafs, in which their was neither plan,
nor validity, nor obje ; that con ed merely of a
difgu ful compilation, where genius and perfeverance
were abforbed in a noifome abyfs 2 There have arifen
men
*»It con ed at r : of fome boxes of fweat-meats; but
nOw the boxes mull be lled with pieces of gold ; {o dainty
is the prefent tafte of tbofe augull knators, and fathers of
their country.
THEOLOGY AND JURISPRUDENCE. 59,
men ofahility, of a love for the human race, and of
courage ful cient to induce them to undei take an
entire l'efOImaticn, and of that capricious mafs to
form a regular andjuft body of laws.
Our kings have given all their attention to this
immenfe projeél, in Which f0 many thoufands were
interel ted. It hasvbeen acknowledged that legi ation
was the r of udies. The names of Lycurgus,
Solon, and thofe who have followed their eps, are
of all others the molt ref'peétable. The luminous point
proceeded from the utmo north; and, as if nature
would humble our pride, it was a woman who began
that important revolution*.
Juftice has fpoken by the voice ofnature,fovereign
Vlegi ator, mother of virtue, and of all that is good
upon the earth; founded on reafon and humanity,
her precepts are wife, clear, concife, and few. All
general caufes have been forefeen and included in the
laWS. Particular cafes have been derived from them,
.as the branches that fpring from a fertile trunk ; and
equity, more {agacious than law itfelf, has applied
praéticaljuftice to every event.
Thefe new laws are above all things thrifty of
human blood ; the punilhment is proportioned to the
crime; we have difcarded you captious interroga-
tories,
* They privately burned at Paris an entire impre ion of
the code of Catharine II. except a ngle copy, that I by
chance, faved from the ames.
70 THEOLOGY AND JURISPRUDENCE.
tbries, and the tortures of confe ion, worthy of the
tribunal of the inqui tion; and thofe horrid punifh-
ments calculated for a nation of cannibals. We do
not put a robber to death, becaufe We know that it.
would be inju ice to murder him who has never
murdered any one; all the riches on the earth is not
equal to the life of a man; We puniih him by the
lofs of his liberty; blood is rarely fpilt; and when
we are forced to (had it, as a terror to bad men, it
is done with the greateft foie mnity. A minifter, for
example, who abufes the con dence ofhis fovereign,
by employing the power with which he is entru ed
again the people, can nd no pardon . He does
not, however, languifh in a dungeon; the puniih~
ment attends the crime; and if a doubt arifes, we
chufe rather to thew him mercy than to run the
horrid ri : of keeping an innocent man longer in
prifon.
A criminal, when (sized, is expofed in fetters,
that he may be a public and (hiking example of the
vigilance of jufticc. Over the place of his con ne-
mentthere continually remains a writing which ex-
plains the cmife of it. We do not con ne men.
while
"* A d'roil pic'ture that of the rife ofa mini er. This is
advanced to admini ration by means of a polite copy of
verfes; that, after having lighted the lamps, is pzrl HE- e d
to command a eet, and imagines that lamps and {h {5 1m-
to be trimmed in the fame manner; another, whilehis
father {till holds the yard, governs the nances, &c. it
feems as if there was a determination to put thefe only at
the head of affairs who knew nothing of the matter.
THEOLOGY AND JURISPRUDENCE. 71
while living, in the darknefs of the tomb, a fruitle :
punifhment, and more horrible than death itfelf ! It
is in the public eye our prifoners fuffer the fhame of
their cha ifement. Every citizen knows why this
man is condemned to imprifonment, and that to la-
bo ur at the public works. He whom three chaItife-
ments does not reform, is marked, not on the toul
der, but the forehead, and banifhed for ever from
his country.
Inform me, I entreat you, about the lettres de
cachet ; what is become of that ready" and infallible
expedient, which cut {hort all dif culties, and _was
f0 convenient to pride, revenge and perfecution ?
If you afk this que ion feriou y, replied my
guide, in a feyere tone, you o er an infult to ,our
monarch, to the nation, and myfelf. The torture
and the lettre de cachet* are ranked together, and
only remain to polute the pages of your hiftory.
CHAP.
" A citizen is {uddeniy fnatched from his family, from
his friends, and {ociety ; a piece of paper beco mes an in-
vincible thunder-bolt. An order for banifhment or impri-
I onment is difpatched in the king's name, and proceeds
merely from his will and pleafure; it has no other authen-
ticity than the gnature of a - mini er. Intendtmts and
bifhops have in their poffef on lettres de cachet, and have
nothing to do but put in the name of any one they with to
de roy; the place is left vacant. We have Ieen the
wretched .gtow old in prifon, forgot by their perfecutors,
while the king has never been informed of their crime, of
their mifery, or~even of their exi ence.
It
C HA P. XVI.
FXECU TION OF A CRIMINAL.
THE repeated mournful founds of a dread-
ful clarion fuddenly {truck rny ear, and feemed to
murmur to the air the names of mifery and death;
the drums of the city guard went flowly round, heat-
ing the alarm; and thefe ominous {ounds, repeated
by the mind, lled it with aprofound horror. I {aw
the-citizens come forth with doleful afpeéts; each
one addreiled his neighbour, and lifting his eyes to
heaven, wept, and {howed all the tokens of the molt
piercing grief. I afked one of them, why tolled the
funeral bells, and what accident had happened ?
One that is molt terrible, he replied, with a
groan. Ju ice this day is forced to 'condemn a.
citizen to lofe his life, ofwhich he has rendered him-
felf unworthy, by embruing his murdering hands in
his brother s blood. More than thirty years have
paired nce the fun beheld a crime like this. Be-
fore the day is nifhed, he muft expire.- 0, what
tears have I led for the fury that drove him to {uch
a blind vengeance ! Have you heard the particulars
of
It were to be wifhcd, that all the parliaments in the king-
dom would unite again thi's mon rons abufe of power,
and one that has no foundation'in our laws. This impor-
tant caufe once agitated, would become that of the nation ;
and defpotifm would be deprived of its molt formidable
weapon.
2
EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL 73
of the crime that was committed the night before
the lalt? .O grief! is it not enough that we have lo :
one worthy citizen ; but mutt another fu Er death 2
He ghed bitterly. " Hear, hear the ery of that-
direful event, which has fpread over us an univerfal
lamentation.
One of our fellow-citizens, of a ery difpo tion,
from his birth remarkable for paf on, though other-
wife a man of merit, was on the point of being mar-
ried to a young woman whom he loved to diftraétion,
Her temper was as gentle as that of her lover was
impetuous; {he attered herfelf, however with being
able to {often his manners; but the many {allies of'
wrath that efcaped him, notwithf tanding all his care
to conceal them, made her tremble for the dircful
confequences that might proceed from a union with
a man of his violent temper. Every woman, by our
law, is abfolute mi refs of her perfon ; {he therefore
determined, from afear of being miferable, to marry
another, who was of a charaéter more conformable
to her own. The torch of thefe nuptials fet re to
the rage of an implacable heart, which in the ten
deref t years had never known moderation. He gave
many private challenges to his happy rival, who
defpifed them ; for he knew there was more bravery
in difdaining an infult, and in [titling a refeutment,
than in yielding to the impulfe of paflion, in aman-
ner that both our laws and reafon profcribe. The en-
raged man, li ening to nothing butjealoufy, renc'oun-
tered the other, the day before ye erday, in a private
path without the city, and on his refuting again to
combatwith him, he feized a branch of a tree, and laid
H him
"74 EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL.
him dead at his feet. After this horrid aét, the in-
human wretch dared to come amongt c us; but his
Crime was already engraved on his front; we no
fooner {aw him, than we difcovered that he was cri-
minal, though then ignorant of the nature of his
offence. But foon we {aw {everal citizens, their
cheeks wet With tears, who bore, with folemu Reps,
to the foot of the throne of ju 'ice, the bloody
corpfe that cried for vengeance.
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". Thefe laws command us to inform the
police of all thofe infraftions that offend againft the
order of fociety; but they intend thofe matters only
that caufe a real detriment. We renew this facred
oath every ten years; and without being bufy in-
formers, religioufly watch over the prefervation of
our venerable laws.
Yei terday they publiihed the monitory, which
15 an aft entirely civil. Whoever {hould delay to
declare
" It is fcztrce to be believed, that the mo important of
our laws, as well civil as criminal, are unknown to the
greateft part of the nation. It would be extremely eafy
to imprint them with a chara er of maje y; but they are
only publifhed to thunder on the guilty, and not to excite
the citizen to virtue. The {acted code ofthe laws is wrote
in a dry and barbarous language, and eeps among the duft
of the rolls. Would it not be proper to clothe it with the
charms ot'eloquence, and by that means render it refpeéta»
ble to the multitude .>
EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. 75.
declare What he knew would be branded With in-
famy. By this means it is that homicide isfo en dif-
covered. None but a villain, for a long time famiJ
liarized with guilt, can coolly deny the crime he-
has jui c committed; and of this fort ofmonlters our
nation is purged; they no longer terrify us, but" in
the hiftories of pa ages.
Obey, with me, the voice of ju ice, that calls-
all the people to be witnefs of its awful decrees. It
is the day of its triumph ;- and, fatal as it is, we re-
ceive it with applaufe. You will not fee a wretch.
who has been plunged for x months in a dungeon,
his eyes dazzled by the light ofthe fun, his bones bro-
kenby a previous and {ecret punifhment more horti-
ble than that he is going to fu er t, advance with
hideous and dying looks, towards a fcaffold ereéted in
an obfcure nook. In your time, the criminal,judged
in the fecrecy of a prifon, was fometimes broke on the
wheel in the lence of the night, at the door of fomc
eeping citizen; who waking with terror at the cries
of
Wretched is the {late that re nes on its penal laws.
is not the puniihment of death fti icient; but mutt mun
add to its horror? Can he be Called a limgiilrate who in-
terrogates with torturing machines, and gradually crufhes
a wretch by a ow progre ion of the molt horrid pangs?
who, ingenious in his tortures, gps death, When, gentle,
and charitable, it advances to deliver the victim E Here na-
ture revolts. But if you would be more fully convinced of
the inutility of the torture, fee the admirable Treatife on
Crimes and Puni nnents. 1 defy any man to prsduce
one folid reafon in favour ofthat barbarous l'dW.
H2
76 EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL.
of the excruciated wretch, was uncertain Whether he
was fu iering under the iron bzu' ofan executioner, 01'
the {word ofan ailaiiin. VJe have none of thofe tor-
tures that are {hocking to nature; we have a regard to
hnmanityeven with them who have oft'ended againlt it.
In your age, they feemed not to be content with mere-
ly putting a man to death, {0 little elfeél the tragic
fcenes had upon you, all horrible as they were, and
multiplied in cold blood. The guilty,fat from being
dragged along in a manner that is difgracetul to jail
tice, is not even f ettered. Alas ! why lhould he be
loaded with chains, when he freely delivers himfelf up
to death? Juftice has full power to condemn him to
death, but not to charge him with marks of avery.
You will fee him walk freely in the midl t offome fol-
diers, who fun ound him merely to keep offthe multi-
tude. We have no fear that he will a fecond time dif-
grace himfeli by endeavouring to y from the terrible
voice that accufes him. Whither {hould he y ? What
country, what people would receive among them an
affa in*? and how could he ever e 'ace that hov-
rid mark which the hand of the Divinity imprints
on the front of a murderer; the tempef t ofremorfe
is there painted in glaring charaéters; and the eye
accu omed
* They fay that Europe is civilized ; and yet a man who
has committed a murder, or made a fraudulent bankruptcy,
can retire to London, Madrid, Lifbon, Vienna, &c. and
there peaceably enjoy the fruits of his iniquity. Among {0
many puerile treaties, can they not ipulate, that the nmr
derer {hall no where nd an a(ylum? Is not every {late and
:very man intere ed in his puni iment? But monarchs
will as foon agree on the deflruétion of the Jetuits.
EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. 77
accuitomed to the afpeét of virtue will ea ly dif-
tinguifh the phy ognomy of guilt. How, in fhort,
éan he ever be free who feels the imtnenfe weight that'
prefres upori his heart?
We arrived at a fpacious place that furrounded the
palace ofjui cice. Along the front of the hall of au-
dience there ran a large ight of Reps. It was on:
this kind of amphitheatre that the fenate a 'embled'
on public affairs, in the fight of the people; it was
under their infpeétion that it chofe to tranfaé t the molt
important affairs of the nation ; the numerous body
of citizens there affembled infpired them with fenti-
ments worthy of the augutt concerns committed to
their 'care. The death ot a citizen was a calamity to
the ttate. The judges failed not to give their fentence
all that folemnity, all that importance it deferved.
The order of advocates were on one tide, con antly'
ready' to plead for the innocent, but lent in the caufe
of the guilty. On the other de, the prelate, ac-
companied by the pattors, bare-headed, {ilently in-
voked the God of Mercy, and edi ed the people,
fpread in crowds over all the place*..
The
"Our form of'juflice does not command awe, b ut excites
dif'gu't t'. It is an odious and {hocking ght to fee a man
take off his laced hat, lay down his {word on the fcaffold,
mount the ladder in a fuit of lk or lace, and dance inde-
cently on the body of the wretch that is hanging. Why not
give the executioner that formidable afpeét he ought to
thew P To what purpofe is this cold barbarity? The laws
thereby ldfe th elridl'ghlty, and 'the puti f nzzzcn: its terror.
H 3. The :
4.\
1F
I78 EXECUTEON OF A CRIMINAL.
The criminal appeared; he was drefTed in abloody
iirt; he beat 'his breait, and fhewed all the marks
of a ncere repentance. His vifage, however, e'x-
pre 'ed nothing of that dreadful embarralfment {0 un-
becoming
The judge is (till more fprucely powdered than the hang-
man. ShallI here declare the fenfations that I have felt .P
I have trembled, not for the crimina l s offence, but for the
horrid unconcern of all thofe that furrounded him, There
has 'been none but that generous man who reconciled the
unfortunate (inner to the Supreme Being, who aflifled him
in drinking the cup of death, that appeared to me to have
any remains ofhumanity- Do we only with to deftroy man-
kind? Are we ignorant of the art ofterrifyingthe imagination
Without violence to humanity P Learn at length, thoughtlefs
and cruel m'en, learn to be judges, learn how to prevent
Crimes; conciliate whatis owing to the law with what is owing
to man. I have not the power to {peak here of thofe artful
tortures that fome criminals have lffered, who (cent to have
been referved, {0 to lay, for a privileged punifhment. O
difgrace to my country! the eyes ofthat {ex which feems made
for pity remained the longett xed on that fcene ofhorrors;
Let us draw the curtain. What can I fay to thofe who'un-
der and me not ? -
1 The author here evidently refers to what is improperly
called the breaking on the wheel ; for the criminal is retched
halted, except a cloth that goes round his waift, upon two
planks, in the form of what is called St. Andrew s crofs ; and
then the executioner with an iron bar, breaks all the bones of
his arms, his legs,_ and thighs. A cruel punifh'ment, the
xeader will fay; but it is tri ing to what he has to ful ferj for
he is then laid, with his face upward, on a {mall wheel, about
its wide as the length of his body only, and is tru ed up
like a fowl for the ,l fit; his broken legs and thighs are brought
lazuli
EXECUTION'OF A CRIMINAL. 7.9
becoming a man, who ought to know how to die
when nec'eflity calls, and efpecially when he merits
death. They made him pafs by a fort of cage, where,
they told me, the body of the murdered man was
expofed. On his near approach, he was feized with
fuch violent remorfe, that they fuffered him to retire.
He approached the judges, and put one knee to the
ground, to kifs the facred volume of the law. It
was
back to his arms, and he is bound round with cords, hard as a
merchant bindea bale of goods that IS to go along voyage,
till the ropes cut into the e ih, and thus left, with his head
hanging backwards off the wheel, to expire by agomes; while
the gay, polite Pari ans throng from every quarter to behold
a ght that is a difgrace'to their capital, to their country, and
to nunkind; and while the falter felt, as the author fays,gaze
from the windows with infatiahlc curio ty This pumihment
{hews how {lrnng the poWrrs of life are in fome men; what tor-
tures human nature is capahlc of fullaining. One wouhl'imagine
that a man could live but a very ihm-t time in (net: at tuatinn;
but the wrerch [ fuw, who was young, and of a vigorous
con itution, was .placed on the wheel about x in the even-
ing; at four the next morning he complained of thir , and
drink was g iven him ; about an hoxir after he expired.
0n revi ng this note, it occurred to me that the hard bind-
ingiwith ropes may be humanely intended to {horten the cri-
mipal s tortures by opping the circulation ; {0 when the ex-
ecutioner jumps on the {houldeijs of the man that is hanging
he ceftainly intends, and does, in many in ances, fhorten his
fu 'erings Dnubtle s too, a great part of the {peétators are
carried to thefe executions by a _de re to {ympathife/ in the
criminal's fufferings; a_s, when a {hip is in dittrefs, the fond
mother ies to the fee. ihbte, and while (he ih ains her infant tq
her breath, cotttmiferatcs their. calamity, thOugh utterly unable
(o relieve them;
30 EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL.
was then opened to him, and they read, with a loud
voice, the fenten'ce relative to homicides; they placed
the book hefore him, that he mightread it; he then
fell on his knees, and Confelled his guilt. The head of
the fenate, mounting a platform that was prepared for
him,read his condemnatit. n with a rong and maje ic
voice. All the counfeliors, as well as the Advocates,
Who were Handing, then fat down, by which they de-
clared that no one of them would undertake his de-
fence.
When the head of the fenate had done reading,
he deigned to {tretch out his hand to the criminal,
and raife him up; he then faid, nothing now re-
mains for you but to die with rmnefs, and obtain
your pardon of God and of men. We do not hate"
you; we grieve for you, and your memory will not
be held in deteltation by us. Obey the law with
cheerfulnefs, and revere its falutarv rigour.g Our
tears bear witnefs that affeétion 'will take place in our
hearts, when ju ic e {hail have. accomplilhed her fatal
decrees. Death is lefs dreadful than ignominy.
Submit to the one, to avoid the other. It is {kill in
your power to 'choofe. If you will live, you may;
but it muft be in difgrace, and loaded with our indig-
nation. You' will behold the fun cdnftantly upbraid-
ing' you with having deprived your fellow-being of
his genial and brilliant rays; to you they will be hate.
ful, as they will only difcover thofe- d ifdainful looks
with which all men regard an affatlin. You will bear
abouttwith you every where the load of you-i~ re-
mark, and the eternal fhame of having' refufed to
fubmit
EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. 8F
fubmit to that juft law which has condemned you..
Do jultice to fociety and condemn yourfelf '7 .
The criminal bowed his head ;'by which he de-
clared that be judged himfelf deferving 0f death-f'.
He immedigtely prepared to fubmit with conf tancy
and with that re gnntion which, in our lalt moments,
is {0 highly becoming of humanity 1;. He was no
longer regarded as guilty; the body of pa ors fur-
rounded him; the prelare taking of? the bloody lhirt,
clothed him in a. white vellment, which was'the
token of his reconciliation with mankind, and gave
him
* They who are inve ed with a power that gives them au-
thority over mankind ought to take great heed how they treat
them merely according to their own demerits; they fhould
regard every criminal as a wretch more or lefs infane; they
{hould therefore treat them as beings, who, by fome un~
known caufe, have been led out of the right path. Even
when the judge pronounces condemnation with maje y, he
ioulcl fecretly lament that he cannot fcreen the criminal
from punifhment. To terrify vice by the mofl: awful ap-
paratus ofjuttice, and privately to reclaim the guilty, [hould
be the two grand points of criminal jurifprttdence.
1 Propitious confcience, thou equitable and ready judge,
he never abfent frorri me! Tell me con antly that I cannot
do the leaft injury to another without receiving the count»
ter-ftroke; that I mutt neceffarily wound tny'lelf, wheii I
wound another.
I Age laus {eeing a malefaétor endure punifhment with
unconcern, O wicked man, he faid, to make {0 bad a.
ufe of fortitude."
3:2 EXECUTION OF A CRIMXNAL.
him the kifs of peace. His friends and relations
crowded to embrace him; he appeared fatis ed by
receiving their carefres, and by being vei ted with
that garment which was a proof of the pardon he
received from his country. Thofe tef timonies of
friendfhip took from him the horrors of approaching
death. The preiate, advancing towards the people,
feized that moment to make a nervous and pathethic
difeourfe on the danger of pa ion: it was {0 elo-
quent, f0 juft and affeé ting, that ,eVery heart was
filled with admiration and terror. Each one t efolved
to watch carefully over his temper and to Ri e thofe
feeds of refentmcnt, which increnl e in a manner un-
known to ouri elves, and foon produce the mo : un-
bridled pa ions.
During this interval, a deputy from the fenate bore
the fentcnce of death to the monarch, that he might
{ign it; with his own hand; for no one could be put
to death without his confetit, as in him re ded the
power of the fword. That good father would gladly
have fpared the life of the crimi11a1*.; but, in that
moment he facri ced the earne deiire of his heart
to the nece ity of an exemplary ju ice.
The deputy returned. Then again the bells of
the city began their funeral toils, the drums repeated
theit
* I am ferry that our kings haye renounced that ancient
and wife cu'ftom. When they gn {0 many papers why
{hould they negleft one of the moft auguit privileges of
their crown 2 '
EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. 33
their mournful march, and thofe depioring founds
meeting in the air with the groans of the numerous
people one would have thought that the city was on
the brink of an univerfal deftrué tion. The friends
and relations ofthe unfortunate man going to meet his
death, gave him the laft embrace; the prelate invoked
with a loud voice, the forgivenefs of the Supreme
Being, and the vaulted roof ofheaven refounded with
the fupplications of the whole people, who cried, with
one mighty voice, 0 /mig/Jty Gad, receiw 121's- foul!
0 God (f Margy, rgi ve 6im,-ewnra.r rwe zrgive bim!
They conduéted him, with ow Reps, to the cage
I have mentioned, [till furrounded by his friends. Six
fu leers, their faces covered with crape, advanced}
the head of the fen ate gave the gnal, by holding
up the book of the law; they' red and the foul dif-
appeared 9*. They took up the dead body. His
crime being fully; expiated by his puniihmen't, he was
again received into the clafs of citizen's; h'is name',
that had been eifaced, was inf cribed again in the
public regi zer, with the names of thofe ho had died
the fame day. This people had not the cruelty to
purfue the memory of a :man even to his tomb; and
to re eét on a whole innocent family the crime of an
individual;
* I have frequently heard it debated,- whether the pen
Ton of an executioner be infamous. I have always been
concerned when they have given it in his favour, and could
never have a refpeét for thofe- who ranked~ him with the
clgfs of other citizens. I: may be wrong, but fuch-is my
opinion.
Animuqm
ms
34 EXECUTION OF ACRIMINAL.
:individuaH; they did not nd pleaiure in difhonour-
ing, without a caufe, ufeful citizens, and make men
miferable, for the fatisfaétion of making them hum-
ble. His body was carried to be burned without the
city, with his fellow-citizens, who, the preceding day,
had paid the inevitable debt to nature; his relations
had no other grief to encounter than that which
attofe from the lofs of a friend. The fame evening,
:1 place of trull, and honour becoming vacant, the
king conferred it on the brother of the criminal ; and
every one applauded a choice that was diétated by
equity and bene cence.
With a heart full of tendernefs and commiferation,
I faid, 0, how is humanity refpeéted among you!
The death ofacitizen is the caufe of univerfal mourn-
ing to his country. It is becaufe our laws, they
replied, are wife and humane; they are/calculated
more for reformation than for cha ifement ;. the way
to intimidate vice is not to render punifhment com-
mon, but formidable; it is our Rudy to prevent
crimes; we fend the refraftory 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
re ned charms of virtue! to whole attraétions the
molt depraved of mortals are not infen ble. Does
the phy cian at the rlt attack of a violent fever
abandon
* Bafe arid defpicable prejudice, that confounds all no-
tions of juttice, is contrary to-reafon. and only calculated
for a weak or wicked people.
4
EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. 85'
abandon his patient ? 'VVhy, therefore, fhould we de-
fert the guilty who mayvyet be recovered? There
are few hearts f0 corrupted, as h ot to he re ored by
perfeverance; and a little blood properly poured
forth, e ements ourtranquilitv and cut happinefs.
Your penal laws were all made in favour of the
i'ich ; all fell on the head of the poor; gold was he-
come the god of nations; ediéks and gibbets furround.
ed all poll'eflions ; and tyranny, with fwofd in hand,
battered the days, the fweat and blood of the union
tunate; it made no di ine tion in clia ileznents, and
thereby taught the people to make none in crimes;
it puhi led the leal c offence as the molt infamous
villainy.» What was the confequence? The multi-
pl-ying-of laws multiplied crimes, and the offenders
became as inhuman as their judges. Legi ati on;
when it attempted to unite the members of fociety,
'drew the bands f0 tight as' to throw it into convul-
lions; and, inltead of maintaining, deltroyed the
connections; mournful humanity fent forth the cry
of grief, and {aw too late, that the tortures of the
executioner never infpire virtue*.
CHAP.
* When we examine the validity of that right which
human focieties have afl'nmed of punifhing with death, we
are terri ed at the imperceptible point which feparatcs
equity from injufticc. It is to little purpofe here that we
accumulate arguments ; all our lights lerve but to lead us
aftray; we innit return to the law of nature only, which has
fair lilore regard than our inflitiitions, for the life oft: man;
I that
[36]
C H A P. XVII.
NOT so' MR OFF AS WE THOUGHT.
WE converfed a long time on this important
Ihbjeé t; but as we became eaine ly engaged, and
our debate wanted that ferenity which is {o necefl'ary
in an inquiry after truth, I thus bluntly interrupted
my
that teaches us, that the law of retaliation is, of all others;
the molt conformable to right reafon. Among ri ng go
'vernments, which have yet the gnature of nature, there
is fcarce any crime punifhed with death. In the cafe of
murder there is no doubt; for nature tells usthat we {hould
arm ourfelves agninft afl'aflins ; but in cafe of- robbery, the
inhumanity of in iéting death is notorious; it is a punifh-
'ment that bears no proportion to the crime ; and the voice
of millions of men, \vorfhippers of gold, can never make
that authentic, which is in its nature invalid. It will be (aid,
The robber made a contraft with me to be puni ied with
death if he invaded my property ;" but no man has a right
to make fuch a contraft as it is unjull, hurbairotis, and
fenfelefs ; unjn , as his life is not his own; barbarous, as
no proportion is obferved; and fenlelels, as it is incompa-
rabiy more eligible that two men live, than that one of them
{houid enjoy {ome exelu vc 0r {uper uous property.
This note, {ays the author, is taken from a good novel,
intitled The Vicar of Wake eld.
1] Nutwithftanding what is here faid, this po ticn certsinly
admits of doubt, at lea z. The ends of punifhment are three;
to rcdrefs the injured; to reform the offender, and to deter
others.
NOT SO FAR OFF AS WE THOUGHT. 87
my learned companion: Tell me , I befeech you,
what is become of the Molinilts and Janfenil ts? He
anfwered me with a loud burl t of laughter ; I could
get nothing elfe from him. But, pray, anfwer me,
I faid; here ood the Capuchins, there the Cordeliers,
a little farther on the Carmelites. What is become
of thofe {rocked gentry, with their fandalsr their
beards, and their difeiplines 2
\Ve no longer fatten, in our Rate, he replied,
a fat of automatons, as trouhlcfome to themfelves
as to others, who make a foolilh vow never to be
men, and huld no conneé tion with thofe that are.
We thought them, h@cher, more worthy 0E pity
than reproach. Engaged from the molt tender age,
in a Rate of which they were ignorant, it was the
laws that were culpable, in permitting them blindly
t0 pro itute that liberty of which they knew not the
value. Thole reclufe beings, whofe man ons of
retreat were eret ted with pomp in the midl c of a tu-
multuous city, perceived, and gave themfelves up
by degrees to the charms of fociety; when they be-
held happy fathers, united brethren, and tranquil
families, they regretted their not being able to pzirti-
cipate
others. Now, neither the murdered, nor his reprefantative,
can receive any redrefs {mm the death of the offender; and
with regard to .the other two ends, lthink it. will typean upon
a clofe infpcétion, that there are many continued punilhments,
without having recourfe to barbarities, that would be far'mure
ef cacious We cannot be too cautious in depriving our fellow-
creatures of that which God uioue can give, and which, it
fcems to me, he alone has the right to take away.
[2
3,8 NOT SO FAR OFF AS WE THOUGHT.
Cipage of that happinefs. They ghed in fecret over»
that fatal moment, when they abjured a life of all.
others the mo pleating, and surfed e ach- other like
galley- aves at the oar" ; while-they longed forithe
hour that {h.ould open their prifen doors. It was not:
ttdi ant; the yoke was thrgwn off without danger
or dif culty; for the hour was then come: jutt as we.
fee the ripe fruit fall from the branch by the lean;
touchf. Itfuing forth in crowds, with the-highe :
demonttrations ofjoy, they becameLall aves as they
had been, in antly men.
Thofe robu monksi, in whom feemed to be
tevived the vigour qf the priftine ages of' the world,-
theiri
' All thofe religious houf es, where men are crowded to-
gether, teem with intettine wars ; they are ferpents that prey
upon each other in obfcurity. A monk is a cold and mo-
rofe animal ; the ambition of advancing himfelfin his corps
makes him fel fh; he has lei ire fu icicnt to re eft on his
plan, and his concentered ambition has a gloomy turni
when he once gets the command, he is by nature rough and
inexorable.
"r In matters of public adtnini ration, there {hould be no
violent fhock; nothing is more dangerous. Reafon and
time produce the greatett events, and fix on them an inde-
lible Ramp.
I Luther, thundering with his ery eloquence againtt the
mona ic vows, a 'erts," that it was as impo ible to keep
that of continence as to Change our fex .
1f Luther, it is like, judged from himfelf. There are how~
eveif, great numbers of men, who,from an ill~natured con itu
tion, are underho fort of temptation to break the vow of con»
tinencc from women.
1
NOT SO FAR OFF AS WE THOUGHT. 89
their fronts glowing with love and joy, efpoufetl thofe
panting doves, thofe fané ti ed virgins, who, under
the monaf tic veil, had more than on'ce glied for 21
atelefs holy and more pleating" ; they performed
the devoits of Hymen with an edifying fervour, and
the
* What a cruel lperf tition, to con ne in :1 (acted prifon
{0 many young beauties, who conceal all the res permitted
to their lex, which an eternal con nement redoubles, and
even to the producing thofc con i s they have with each
othequ. To have a jut t {ctifation of all the miferies of a
heart that devours itfelf, we thonld be in its place. Timid,
Credulous, abnfed, intoxicated by :1 pompous entlm nfm,
a girl believes for a long time, that God and religionabfurb
all her thoughts; in the midtt of the tranfyorts other zeal,
nature awakens in her heart that invincible, and to her
unknown, power, and makes her fubmit to its imperious
yoke. There res, once lighted up, make havock among
herfenfes; the burns'in the calm oflier retreat; the com-
bats, but her contlancy is overcome; the bluthes and (lea
res; the looks round her, and nds herielf furronnded
with in irmountable barriei s, while all her being is carried
with violence toward an ideal objeét, that her heated ima-
gination has adorned with frefh charms. From that
moment, adieu repofe. She was born for a happy fertility;
an eternal chain con nes her, and condemns h( I t9 erility
and mifery. She then dilcovers, that the law has deceived
her;-
[ is this mirage may appear nhfcure, and as I know not
well how to make it more explicit; I {hall here give the words
of the original. Quellc cruelle fuperftitiun entliaine c'ans
unc prifon facree tnnt dcs jcune ll utés, qui reecluit tcus les
?cux permis a lcu {exc, que retlou ole encore une cléiture eter-
uelle, et juftlu aux combats qu elles [e livrc nt,
Is
99 NOT SO FAR OFF AS WE THOUGHT.
produced an offspring worthy of {0 fair a lineage;
their happy and rofy hufbands were no longer foiici-
tons for the canonization offome rotten bones ; they
contented themfelves with being good fathers and
good citizens; and, I rmly believe, are as likely to
go to heaven after death, as if they had made a- pur-
gatory of the prefent life.
It: is true, that, at the time it happened, this re-
fermation appeared to the bifhop of Rome fomething
extraordinary; but id foonimd fetious affairs of his
own. to manage. Who do you call the bifhop of
Rome ? Him whom you called pope; but as I ob-
ferved before, we have changed many Gothic terms;
we no longer know what are canonicates, bulls, be-
ne ces, and bifhoprics of an immenfe revenue* ; we
do not go to kifs the ipper'of the fucce br of an
apa ic,
her; that the yoke which de roys iiberty is not the yoke
of God t and that the religion, to which {he is irrevocably
bound, is the enemy ofnature and of reafon. But to what
purpofe are her forrows and complaints? Her tears and her
tighs are lo in the lence of the night ; the burning poifbn
thatfermentsin her veins deftroys her beauty, corrupts her
blood, and leads her, with precipitate Ileps, t0 the grave;
glad thither to defcend, fhe opens herfelf the tomb, where
all hergriefs are left in peaceful aimbers.
* Icannot fee without horror, eccie a ic princes, rur-
rounded by all the pomp of luxury, {mile difdainfuily at
public miferies, and prefumc to talk ofmomls and reiigion
in their duli mandates, wrote by {ome curate s journey-
man, and which intuit common {enfe with fcandalous ef-
frontery.
NOT SO FAR OFF AS WE THOUGHT 9x
apoi de, to whom his matter gave no other eitamples
than thofe ofhumility; and as that apoftie recom.
mended poverty, as well by his example as his pre-
cept, we no longer fend our pure gold {0 nece 'ary ~to
the Rate, to purchafe indulgences, of which that good
magician was very liberal. A11 thefe matters gave
him at t : fome difguft; for we do not love to part
with our privileges, even though they be fomewhat
illegitimate ; but he foon found that his true heritage
was in heaven; that his kingdom was not of this
world ; and that all earthly riches were vgmities, as
are ail things beneath the fun.
Time, whofe invi ble and lent hand under-
mines the lctftiei c towers, has laid that fuperb and in-
credible monument of human credulity in the duff";
it fell without tumult; its rength was in opinion;
opinion changed, and all exhaled in fmoke. So we
fometimes behold nothing but a ti'an ent vapour,
where late was feen a tremendous cou agration.
A prince worthy to govern, rules over that part
of Italy, and that aricient Rome has again beheld her
Ceefars: by that word I refer to Titus and Marcus
Aurelius, not to thofe mon ers who bore a human
face. That ne country is reanimated nce it has
been cleanfed from thofe lazy vermin that. throve in
lth.
The mnfti, among the Turks, extends his infallibiiity
even to hif toric rafts He thought proper, in the reign of
Amurat, to declare ail lhofe heretics who did not believe
that the fuhan went into Hungary.
92 THE NIINISTERS OF PEACE.
lth. That kingdom now holds its proper rank,
bears a lively and expre ive afpe , after having
been wrapped up, for mere than feventeen centu-
ries, in ridiculous and fuperl titious rags, which {top-
ped its breath, and deprived it of all power of
utterance.
l
l
C H A P. XVllI.
THE IMINIS I'ERS OF PEA CIS-
PROCEED, thou charming inmuaorl This
revolution, you fay, was made in the molt peace tl
and happy manner. It was the work of philofo-
phy; it ztéled without noife,-and, like nuture, with a
force the more certain, as it wasir:{e11 l>l e. But I
have many dif culties to prepofe; there mull be a reli-
gi(n. Without doubt, he replied with warmth.
Alas! where is the man f0 ungrateful as to remain
dumb in the midlt of the miracles of creation, under
this brilliant rmament of heaven? We adore the
Supreme Being; but the wnrfhip we [render him
caufes no diforder nor debate ;- we have but few mi-
nillers, and they are wife, experienced, and' friends
to toleration ; they are free from the fpirit 0f faflion,
and there 're more beloved and refpefted ; they are
only folicittus to lift up pure hands toward the
throne of the Father of ma1.l~:ind; they are be-
ne cent to all, in imitation of God, abundant in
goodnefs ; the fpirit of peace and concord animates.
their
THE MINISTERS OF PEACE. 93
their ac kions as well as their precepts ; they are there-
fore univerfally beloved. We have, moreover, a holy
prelate, who lives with his paflors, as with his bre-
thren, and his equals. Thefe funé tions are not afa
fumed by any, till they are forty years of age; for
not till then are the turbulent pallions at rent; and.
reafon, {o ow in man, exerts its peaceful empire.
Their exemplary life difplays the highelt degree of
human virtue ; it is they that comfort the a liéled ;
that point out to the unhappy a merciful God, who
watches over them, and will one day recompense
their fufferings. l hey fearch out poverty when con-
cealed under the cloak of iume, and adminifler re-
liefwithout compelling it to blulh; they reconcile
adverfe tempers by the words of gentlenefs and peace;
the molt inveterate enemies embrace in their pre.
fence, and all the ulcers of their hearts become in-
antly healed. In a word, they ful l all the duties
of men who prefume to {peak in the name of an
Eternal Mailer.
I am highly pleafed to hear of miniflers like
thofe, I replied ; but have you :1 {ct of men peculiarly
confecrated to repeat at all hours of the day, with
a nafhl twang, canticles, pfalms, and hymns ? Does
any one among you afpire to canonization? How
do you celebrate that rite 2 Who are your faints 9 -
Our faints I You doubtlefs mean thofe who pur-
fue the highefl degree of perfeélion, who are elevated
above human weaknefs. Yes; we have men- of that
celellial temper ; but you will ealily believe that they
do not lead an obfcure and folitary life ; that they do
not
94 THE MINISTERS, 01? PEACE
not make a merit of failing, of chanting bad Latin,
or of remaining dumb and (lupicl all their days ; it is
in the ght of the world that they difplgy the forti-
tude, the con ancy of their fouls ; they charge them-
felves, by choice, with the molt painful labours, and
fuch as are difguitful to other men ; they think that.
good and charitable works are to the Deity mere
grateful than prayer alone.
If men, for example, are wanting to,clean the
reets, or repair the highways, they readily offer
themfelves; they undertake the molt dangerous as
well as the me'anei c employments, as to entry water
through the flames to extinguifh a re, and walk
over the burning planks; or to plunge into a river,
to fave the life of a man ready to perifh, &c. Thefe
generous viétims to the public good are lled, ani-
mated by an aetive fpirit, by the grand and 'fublime
idea of being ufeful members of fociety, and of alle-
viating the miferies of others. They make a duty
of thefe occupations with as much pleafure as if they
were perfeétly eafy and engaging ; their aetions are
altogether diret ted by humanity and the love of their
country, and never by felf-intere . Some con antly
attend the bed of the ck, and adminiiter relief;
while others defcend into the mines, and perform all
the laborious of ces of thofe regions, [0 that you
would take them to be ztves bowing under the iron
yoke of fome tyrant; but the de gn of their bene -
cent fouls is to pleafe the Eternal by ferving their
brethren. lnfen hle to prefent miferies, they look
forward to that reward which God has in llore {or
them,
THE MINISTERS'OF PEACE. 9 5
them, as they do not facri ce the plcafutes of this
world to a capricious bigotry, but to a real utility.
It is needlefs to tell you that we refpeét them
during their lives and after deaths; and its our
molt lively ecknowledgments would be infu icient,
we leave it to the Author of all good to difcharge
that immenfe debt, being perfuaded that he alone
knows the juft meafure of merited rewards.
Such are the faints that we venerate, Without
fuppo ng any thing more than that they have ex-
tended human nature, of which they are the glory,
to its highe perfeétion : they perform no other mi-
racles than thofe I have mentioned. The martyrs to
Chri ianity had certainly their merit; it was doubt-
lefs very commendable to brave the tyrants of the
mind ; to fuffer the molt horrible deaths, rather than
facri ce thofe fentiments that the head and the heart
had adopted. But how much more true greatnefs
is there in rendering ourfelves the perpetual bene-
{a 'ors to aflliéted humanity, to dry up every tear,
and {top or prevent the eifu on ofa ngle drop of
blood *9.
Thefe
* A counfellot of parliament, in the laft century, gave
all his fortune to the poor, and then went about begging
for them. He met a farmer-general in the ftreet; he at-
tacked and followed him, tying, Give me l'omething for
my poor people, fomething for my poor people." The tax
gatherer refuted; and replied in the ufual tone, I have
nbthing for them; Sir, I have nothing for them." -The
couniellor
96 THE MINISTERS OF PEACE.
Thefe wonderful men do not offer their manner
of 11v1nCT as a model to others-, they do not glory1n
their heroifm; they do not debafe the
mfelves -to be
exalted by the public ; and leaft of all do they tail
at the defe s of their neighbours, but me much
more folicitous to procure them happy lives by their
innumerable laboul5. When one ofthefe exalted fouls
rejoins that All-perfeét Being, from whorn it is an ema-
nation, We do 'not enclofe the co1pfe111 a metal [till
more worthlefs; We write the hi ory of his life, and
Erideavour to imitate it at lea in fome degree.
The farther I advance, the more unexpe ed altern-
tions I perceive You will yet fee many others.
Ifa gteat number of pens did not atteft the fame mat.
t ers, we fhould certainly call1n doubt the hiftory of
your age. Was it po 1ble? Could the fervants of
'the altar be riotods, caballers, perfecutors? Could
a fet of miferable reptiles hate and perfecute each
other during the {hort {pace oftheir lives, becaufe
they chanced to think differently on certain vain {11b-
tilti(:5, or matters that ate by their nature incomple-
henfible? There weak wretches, it feems, had the
audacity to found the defigns of the Almighty, and
to make them quadrate With their ignormite, their
bride, and their folly.
I hive
counfellor would not quit him; he argued and entrented;
hefollowed» him quite to his hotel, and up to his apart-
ment, continually interceding for his poor people. The
brutal boarder of millions, at left enraged, gave him a
blow on the ear. Very well," (did the counfellbr, that
is {omething for me z111d_my poor people."
I
THE T - . ,
EMPLE 97
I have read, that'they who'had the leaft charity,
and confe qilently the lea : religion, were they that
preached tolothers; 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 *. They fay,
moreover, that your churches refembled the'puvblic
market-place 5' that they were equally o 'en ve to. the
ght and the fmell; and that your ceremonies were
calculated rather to diftraét the mind, than to elevate
it to God But I hear the facred, trump, whofe
plea ng fouads announce the hour of prayer. Come
with me, and behold our religion; let us go to the
neighbouring temple, and offer our thanks to the
Creator, for having once more beheld the rifing fun.
C H A P,. XIX.
THE TEMPLE.
WE turned the corner of a reet, and I
perceived in the midf c of a fpacious place a cireular
temple crowned with a magni cent dome. This edi-
ce, fupported by a fingle range of columns, had four
grandportals; on the front of each was written,
772: Temple zy' God. Time had already imprinted a
venerable
" What a leprofy in a Rate is at numerous clergy, that
make a public profe ion to know no wives but t hofe of
other men !
K
.93 THE TEMPLE.
Venerable complexion on its walls, from_which it
received an additional r'najefty. When I arrived at
the door of this temple, what was my furprife, to
read the four'followi'ng lines in large bharaéters.
Loin J: min deciderfur (ct Err: Suprime
Gardom, m I aa orant, un lmreprofand;
Sa naiure 4/} immen ct I q orit_ .r y wnfand;
Pour zivair ct: qu ilg/Z, ilfaut ctr: Iui-mémc.
In awful lence let us God adore,
Nor ever dare his nature to explore;
To fearch thofe boundlefs powers, by man were vain,
Which nought but boundlefs wifdom can explain.
'0, by the way, I {aid in a low voice, you cannot;
alTert that this is of your age. It is no commen-
dation to yours, he replied, for your theologians
hould have flopped there. 'This reply, which feems
to hive proceeded from the Divinity itfelf, has lain
cenfounded among verfes, of which very little ac-
count was made: I know, not, however, if there be
any more excellent, for the Tenfe they contain; and,
I think, they are here very properly applied.
We followed the people, who, with thoughtful
looks, and tranquil, modcft Reps, advanced toward
the interior part of the temple. They all took their
feats, in turn, on rows of (tools ; the men {eparate
from the women. The altar was 'in the centre; it
Was totally unadorned, and each one could di in-
guilh the prie who burned the-incenfe. At the
moment-he pronounced the facred hymns, the choir
of
THE TEMPLE. 99
of a iilantsi alternately elevated their» voice; their
fweet and gentle founds vexpre 'ed the awful {enti-
ments of their hearts; they feemed lled with the
Divine Majefty. ' There were no paintings, no {la-
tues, no allegorical figures to be feeu*; the fasted
name of God, a thoufand times repeated, and in dif-
ferent languages, was fpread OVer all the walls; all
declared the unity of the Godhead; all foreign orna-
ments Were rigorou y banifhed; in a word, God
alone pu eifed his temple.
When I lifted my eyes to the fummit of this tem
ple, I {aw the face of heaven; {or the dcme was not
covered with (tone, but the cleareft glafs. Some-
times a ferene and lucid lky announced the compla-l
cency 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 thunder announced, how
terrible is God, when o ended; and the calm that
fucneeded to the alhing lightnings declared; that
contrition gnarms his avenging hand ; but when the
breath offpring poured down its balmy ltreams,then
every heart was imprefl'ed with that falutary and
comfortable truth, that the treafures of the divine
clemency are inexhau ible. Thus the {eafons and
the elements, whofe voice is {0 eloquent to thofe who
can comprehend it, {poke to this difeerning people,
K 2 and
* The Prote ants are in the right; all thofe works of
men difpofe the people to idolatry. To exprefs an invifible
and prefent Deity, the temple {hould contain him alone.
I 00 THE TEMPLE.
and difplaye'cl to them the Author of the univerfe
under all his various relations *2
There were here no difcoraant rounds; even the
voice of the infant was taught to join the majeltic
choir ; there was no profane ~ or friiky mu c; the
organ alone, which was far from being clamorous,
was accompanied by the voice of the numerous peo-
ple, and feemed the {orig of immortals, who joined
thefe public orifons; no orie entered or went out du-
ring the time ofprayer; no burly Swifs, no trouble-
.fome beggar, interrupted the adoration of the faith-
ful fupplicants ; the whole people were {truck with a.
religious and profound awe; many lay prof trate, their
faces againft the earth. In the midft of this univerfal
lent meditation, I was feized with a facred terror;
it feemed as if the Divinity had defcended into the
temple and lled it with his invi ble prefence.
There were boxes. to receive alms; but they were
placed in obfcure nooks. This people could perform
aé ts of charity Without o entation. During the time
of adoration, the lence was {0 religiou y obferved,
that the fanétity of the place, joined to the idea of
the Supreme Being, pierced every heart with a pro-
found and affeéting impre ion.
The
* A ravage wandering through the woods, contemplating
heaven and earth, and difcovetjing, {0 to fay, the only Maf
ter that he knows, comes nearer to the true religion than
the Carthu an, buried in his cell, and converting,r with none
but the phantoms of a heated imagination.
THE, TEMPLE. ; o 1
;-'Ilhe'exhortation of, the paltor to his ock was
mple, natural, and eloquent; but more from the
matter than the Ptyle. He talked of God only to
makehim beloved by men, and to recommend hu¢
manity, gentlenefs1 and patience ;4 he did not endea-
vour t0 difpiay his wit,_ when it was his bu nefs to
a 'eét the heart ;7 it was a father thatconverfed with
his children on Ehofe matters that were molt eligible
for them, to purfue. Thefe precepts had the greater
efe , as they ptoeeeded from the mouth of a man
Whofe charaéter was perfeétly amiable. I could
never have been tired; for this difcourfe con ed
not of pompous declamation, or vague eharaéters, or
farvfetched gures, and (till let's of {craps of poetry
mixed with the profe, by which it commonly be-
comes yet more in pid*.
- It is thus, faid my guide, - that every morn-.
i-ng we make a public prayer; it lalts an hour, and
the re : of the day the doors remain (hut. We'have
fcarce any religious feaits; but we have thofe that
are civil, which relax the people without making
them
What, in our preachers, gives me the greate difgu ,
is, that they have no xed principle with regard to morals;
they draw their ideas from their text, and not from the
heart. To-day they are moderate and rational; to-mor-
row perfecutors and enthu afts. They offer nothing but
words ; and it is of little concern to them whether they con-
tradiét themfelves or not, provided they make out their
three points. I have, heard one of, them pillage the Eitcye
elppedia, and declaim againft the cncyclopcdialts.
K3
102 THE TEMPLE.
them licentious. Ori no day {hould man remain idle;
by the example of nature, which never quits its
operations, he ought never to reproach himfelf with
having been quite inaétive. Repofe, however, is
not idlenefs. Total inaétion is a-real damage to our
country; and ceiTation from labour is in {aft 3. dimi-
nutive of death. The time determined for prayer is
fu icientto elevate the mind to God; long o ices
produce inattention and difguft; and all private
prayers have lefs merit than thofe that excite the
public devotion.
Let me recite to ydu the form of prayer ufed
among us. Every one repeats it, and meditates on
every fentiment it contains.
Thou one, uncreated Being! the wife Creator
ofthis vali: univerfe! {ince thy goodnefs hath prefented
it as a fpeétacle to man, {ince f0 weak a creature
hath received from thee the precious gift of re eéting
on this great and beautiful work, quer not, that after
the manner of the brute, he pafs over the furface of
this globe, without rendering homage to thy omni-
potence and thy wifdom. We extol thy glorious
Werks; we blefs thy fovereign hand; we adore thee
as our Judge; but we love thee as the univerfal
Father of beings. Yes, thy goodnefs is equal to
thy power; all things declare it; but, above all, our
own hearts. If fome tran ent evils here a lié t us,
is is, doubtlefs; becaufe they are inevitable ; more-
over, it is thy pleafure, and that is to us {u icient ;
W'O
THE TEMPLE. 163.
we fubmit with con dence, and rely on thy in nite
goodnefs, far from complaining, we o 'en up our
thanks for thy having created us to know thee.
May every one adore thee after his own manner,
according to the moft a 'eétionate, and mol t animated
diétates of his heart. We do not wifh to fet bounds
to his zeal. Thou ha : deigned to {peak to uslby the
voice of nature only; all our devotion is con ned
to.the adoring of thee, in ble ing thy name, in Cey-
ing toward thy throne, that we are weak, miferable,
limited creatures, and have for ever need of thy fup-
porting arm.
If we deceive ourfelves, if any other worfhip,
a cient or_modern, is more plea ng in thy ght than
ours, O vouchfafe to open our eyes, and di ipate the
clouds that hang over our minds ; we will faithfully
obey thy precepts. But ifthou art fatis ed with this
feeble homage, which we know to be due to thy
power, and to thy truly paternal tendernefs; give us.
the con ancy to perfevere in thefe fentiments of ado.
ration .with which we are in amed. Preferver of
human kind! thou, who with thy complacent re-
gards embrace ; the whole human race, grant that
charity may, in like manner, embrace 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 thanfgiving !
We do not prefume to pray for long life; whether
thou takeit us from this earth, or permitte us here
to
W4 THE TEMPLE.
to remain, we-{hall nevergbe a_bfent from thy ght;
we afk for virtue only, left we {hould o end. again .
thy impenetrable decrees; but_ humble and totally
re gned to thy will, vouchfafe, 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 mortal ve ment
fall o ", and may we y to behold thy glory !~ What
We now fee of thy greatnefs makes us long for a
mom exten ve profpeét. Thou ha : done too much
for man to refufe freedom to his thoughts ; he
therefore offers uphis ardent vows to thee, becaufe,
as thy creature, he knows himfelf born toreceive thy
favours.
But, my dear Sir, I faid, your religion ifyou WilL
permit me to' declare it, is, in a manner, the fame.
with that of the ancient patriarchs, who adored God,
in fpirit and in truth, on the tops of the mountains.
- Right; you have ju ly expre 'ed it ; our religion
is that of Enoch, of Elias, and Adam, andtherefore,
is at leait the molt ancient. It is with religion as.
'with laws; the mof c mple are the belt. Adore-
God, love thy neighbour; hearken to that confcience,
that judge which continually attends thee; never
Ri e that fecret and celeftial voice; all the rei t is.
impoiture, fraud, falfhood*. Our prief ts do not;
pretend to a particular infpiration from God ; they
call themfelves our equals; they acknowledge, that,
like
3" Our Author cannot refrain from re eé timg on the imc'
po ures of the Romifh church.
THE TEMPLE. 105.
like us, they walk in darknefs ; they follow, however,
that luminous point which God hath been pleafed to
fat before us, and fhew it to their brethren without
defpotifm, and without O 'entation. Cherifh a pure
morality, free from dogmatic i principles, and you
will banifh atheifm, fanaticifm, and fuper ition. We
have found this happy method, for which we return
our fincere thanks to the Author of every good.
You adore a God; but do you admit of' the im-
mortality of the foul? What is your opinion ofthat
great and impenetrable fecret? All philofophers have
endeavoured to refolve it ; the wife man and the fool
have pa 'ed theirjudgment ; fyf tems the moft diver-
ed, the mo : poetic, have been ereé ted on that
famous doétrine; it feems above all things to have
excited the attention. of legi ators. 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 our-
felves to know that there is fomething within us,Which
lives, which perceives, which thinks, which wills, and
determines. We believe that the foul is difiinét from
matter, that it is intelligent by its nature. We reafon
but little on this fubjet t; we love to believe all that
elevates human nature; the fyltem which exalts it
molt is to us the moft plea ng; and we cannot think
that ideas which do honour to the creatures of the
Almighty God can ever be falfe. To adopt the
molt fublime plan is not to deceive ourfelves, but to
attain the true end. Incredulity is nothing but
weaknefs,
106 THE TEMPLE.
weaknefs, and boldnefs of thought is the faith of an,
intelligent being. Why {hould We creep towards
inanity, when we nd that we have wings by which
We can afcendvto the Moll High, and when there is
nothing which contradiéts that noble daring. If it
were po ible that we could deceive ourfelves, man
would have Conceived of an order of things more
excellent than that which exif ts ; the fovereign poww-
w0uld then become limited, I had almoft {aid his
goodnei s.
We believe that all fouls are equal by their e ence.
but diferent by their qualities. The foul of a man
and that of a. brute are equally immaterial; but
one has advanced a Ptep farther than the other
toward perfeé tion; and itis that which conl titutes its
prefent ftate, which, however, is at all times liable
to change.
We fuppofe, moreover, that all the liars and all
the planets are inhabited, but that nothing which is
contained in one is to be found in another. This
boundlefs magni cence, this in nite a 'emblage of
various worlds, this glorious circle ofexiltence, feems
neceffary in the vaft plan of creation. Thefe funs,
then, thefe worlds {0 fair, {'0 grand, f0 diver ed,
appear to us habitations all prepared for man; they
circulate, they correfpond, and are fubordinate to,
each other. The human foul afcends to all thefc
worlds, as by a gradual and brilliant ladder, that
leads, at every Hep, to the highefl degree ofperfec-
tion. In this journey it forgets notth it has feen,
0f
THE TEMPLE. ['07
'orhas learnt; it preferves the magazine of its ideas,
which are its moft valuable treafure, and by which
it is con antly attended. When it launches forth
to fome fublime dil'covery, it {oars above the peopled
worlds already explored, and mounts in broportion
to the knowledge and virtue it has acquired. The
[0111 of Newton has own, by its native vigour, over-
all the worlds that it once weighed. It would be
unjuli. to {uppofe that death had power to extinguifh
that mighty genius. Such a de ruétion would be
more a liéting, more inconceivable, than that of the
whole material univerfe. It would be equally abfurd
to fuppofe, that his foul fhould be placed on a level
with that of an ignorant or fiupid being. In faét, it
were to no purpofe for a man to improve his mind,
if it were not capable of elevation, either by con-
templation, or by the exercife of virtue: but an in-
ternal fenfe, more powerful than all objeétions, fays
to him, Exert all thy pawers, and t fpi a death; it de-
pend: on t/IJ /f to conquer, and 2'0 augment Iéy life, ruibicb
i1 lboug/Jt.
For thofe graveling fouls that are plunged m the
lth of vice, or of oth, they will return to the point
from whence they parted, or be yet more degraded;
they have been for a longtime attached to the rueftfl
borders of inanity, have inclined toward fenfele .
matter, and have formed a vile and brutal 'race;
while the generous fouls have foared toward the
divine and eternal light, they have plunged into
that darknefs, where fcarce is feen one pale my of
exiftence. Azrponarch, at his deceafe, becomes a
mole;
103 THE TEMPLE.
mole; a mini er, a venomous ferpent, inhabiting
fome lthy marfh; while the writer he difdained, or
rather could not comprehend, hath obtained a glo-
rious rank among intelligent beings, the friends of
humanity.
Pythagoras difcovered this equality offouls; he
difcerned the tranfmigration from one body to an-
other; but it was in the fame circle, and never ex-
tended beyond this globe. Our metempfycho s is
more rational, and fuperior t0 the ancient. To t_hofe
noble and generous fouls, who have made the hap-
pinefs of their brethren the rule of their conduét, death
opens a glorious and brilliant career. What think
you ofbur fyf cem ? -I am charmed with it; it is in
no wife incon ent either with the power or goodnefs
of God. This progre ive march, this afcent to dif-
ferent worlds, to the various revolving fpheres, all
the work of his- hands, feems to me perfeétly agree-
able 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 profpeét f0 ihtere ing as the ght of all thofe
worlds, that will enrich our fouls with millions of
novelties, by which they will inceffantly advance
toward perfeétion, and become more fublime, in
proportion as they approach the Supreme Being;
will know him more perfeétly, will love him with
more enlightened ardour, and at 13.9: plunge into the
ocean of his immen ty. O my foul, rejoice! thou
canit not pars but from wonder to wender ; a pro-
fpeét perpetually new, perpetually miraculous, at-
4. tends
THE TEMRL E- I 99
tendsth'ee. prgreatlaire thy'hopes-i Thbu'yfhalt
tun through the immen fefeene of nature, till thou
.art.lo : in God, from whom.:thou derivelt thy'lofty
origin. But' the wicked, I raid, they who have
nned againit the laws of nature, have -fhut their
hearts .againl c .theery of pity, that have murdered
the innocent, and reigned for themfelves alone, what
will becomeiofzthem? Though- I lovelnot vengeance,
yet I could with my own handsexcé t a hell forith's
punifhment of certain inexorable fouls, who, by
pouring down tortures onthevweak andthe innocent,
havemadtmy blood boil-with indignation.' Ibis
mot Efotj our \veaknef's, con antly fubordinate to {0
many 'pa ions, to fay in what manner God will
punilh them. This, however, is certain 3 the wicked
mutt feel the weight ufjul tice; banithecl far from his
ght will be every per dious and cruel being, .and
all thofe. that are indifferent to the misfortunes of
others. Never {hall the foul of Socrates, or Marcus
Aurelius rencounter that of Nero. This we may
venture to a irm; but it is not for us to x the
weights that {hall enter the eternal balance. We
believe, however, that thofe crimes which have.th
entirely obliterated the fentiments ofhumanity, that
the heart which is not become totally in_fenlible,
that even kings, who have not thought themfelves
Gods, ,imay become puri ed, by improving their
natures during along courfe of years; they will de.
fcettd into thofe globes where phylical evils predomi-
nating will be the ufeful fchurge to make them fen ble
of their dependence, and of the need they have of
clemency, and mny ferve to obliterate the pre iges
L of
110 THE TEMPLE.
of their former pride. If they humble themfelves
under the hand that correéls them, if they follow the
lights of reafon, if they become fen ble how far dif-
tant they are from the Rate they might enjoy, if they
make tfome eHorts to obtain it, then their pilgrimage
will be greatly abridged ; they will die in the prime
of life, and will be lamented; while, fmiling with
great complacency on their rueful habitation, they
will lament the lot ofthofe who are compelled to re-
main after them upon an unhappy planet, from
whence they are delivered. Thus it is, that they
who feat death know not what they fear ; their ter-
rors are the offspring of their ignorance; and that
ignorance is the rit punifhment of their crimes.
Perhaps too, the molt criminal will be deprived
ofthe precious fenfation of liberty: they will not be
annihilated ; for the idea of annihilation is repugnant
to the nature of the human foul: there can be no an-
nihilation undera creating, prefexving, and re oring
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
\vret chedly fub fi, but in the lOWCPt clafs of eint-
encc ; they will be inceifantly fubjeft to freih tortures,
that will renew their {lavery and their mifery ; but
the duration of their puni iment God alone can de-
termine.
CHAR
'[ 111 ]
CHAP. XX.
THE PRELA T'E.
(I
THERE goes a living faint. That man
you fee in a piain purple robe, who fupports himfelf-
by a ick, and whofe gait and ,afpeét difcover neither
o entation nor a 'eéted mode y, is our prelute.
How! your prelate on foot. Yes, in imitation of
the r apol cles. They have, however, lately given
him a chair; but of that he makes no ufe, except
from abfolute nece ity. His revenue ows ,almolt
entirely into the bofom of the poor; and when he
bellows his donations, he does not rft inquire if the
man be of his particular opinion 3 it is fu icient for
him that they are men, and that they are miferable;
he is not opinimaled anatic, in exible,or perfecutive;
he does not abufe his {acted authority to place him-
felf on a level with the throne; his nfpec t is con-
antly {erene, the image cfa gentle, uniform, and
peaceful mind, that never knows warmth oi" folici-
tude, but in doing good. He'frequently fays to
thofe he meets, My friends, charity, as St. Paul fays,
goes before faith; he bene cent, and you have ac-
complilhed the law. Reprove your neighbour, if
he err ; but without pride, without bitternefs. Peta
fecute no man on account of belief; and take heed
how you prefer yourfelf, in the bottom of yotir
« heart, to him that you have feen commit a fault; for
to-_morrow you will, perhaps be even more criminal.
L 2 Preach
1 I 2 THE. PREELATE.
Preach by example only. Reckon not among the
number of your enemies the man who difpofeth
abfolutely of his thoughts.» Fanaticifm, in its cruel
perfeverance, hath already caufed too much evil,
not to be dreaded, and prevented, even in its leaft
appearances. That mon er feems at r to atter
human pride, and to ag grzmdife the foul to which
it hath accefs ;» but it=foon hath recourfe to aud',
taper dy , and1 torcruelty; it tramples under foot,
every virtue, andtbecomesthe mo terrible feourge
to humanity.
But who, I faid , is that magi rate, with'a'venera-
hie port, that {tops him, and with whom he con.
verfes with {0 much fx-iendfhip ? That is one ofthe'
father's of his country; he is the head of the-fenate,
who takes our prelate to dine with him. During
their temperate and fhort 'repaft, frequent mention
will be madeof the poor, the widow, and the or-
phan, and or" the means of relieving their misfor-
tunes; Such is the intere that unites them, and
which they treat with the mo liveiy zeal; they never
enter intovain difcumons of 'thofe antique and Indi
crous- prerogatives, which exereifed, in {o puerile' a
manner, the grave heads of your times.
CHAP.
[H3]
CHA P. XXI.
THE COJIIMUN'ION OF THE TWO IJVFINITES.
BUT who is that young man that I fee fur-
rounded by a bufy crowd? What joy is. expre 'ed in
a11,his motions ! How his vifage glows 2 What hap-
pitte s has befel him? From whence comes he ?
He comes from being initiated, my guide gravely
replied ; though we have but few ceremonies, yet
we have one that anfwers to what in .your time, they
cailed thefr communion. We obfcrve with a watch-
ful eye, the genius, the charaétei', and mbft fect'et
afiions of a young man. \thn We perceive that he
{catches out folimry places for re eftion; when we
furprife him with a melting eye ; gazing e.tme ly 0n
the vaulted roofof heaven, contemylating, in u vcet
ec afy, the azure curtain that feenis reaJy to be
drawn from before him, then there is no t me t»
life; then reztfon appears to have attained its full
maturiiy, and he is become cupabie of receiving to
advantage 3 difplay of the wondexs of creation.
We make chniee ofa ferene night, when the Ji ry
ho thine forth i.) their fuilef t luftre. Accompanied
by hisfriends and relations, the young man is con-
duéled to our chfervntory; his eye is in zmtly ?.p-
piied to a telz opc e ; we caut e 5.1mm, Jupiter, Mars,
ail
* The tclefeope is the mam] cannon thitthas hiid in ruins
ail thofe Eiyer itions and fhzzntoms that tormented theirs-
L 3 mm;
I 14 THE COMMUNION OF
all the mighty bodies that oat in order amidfi the
ethereal fpace, to pafs before him; we open to-him,
{'0 to Pay, the in nite abyfs ; all thofe radiant globes
prefs in crowds upon his aftonifhed tight; then 3 ve-
nerable pa or fays to him, with an awful, majeftic
voice, Young man, behold the God ofthe univerfe,
who reVezils himfelf to thee in'the mid ; of his works;
adore the God of thefe worlds, whofe exten ve
power exceeds not only the ght cf man, but even
his imagination ; adore that Creator, whofe refplem
dent majctty is impretled on the front of theft: {tarv
that obey his laws. When thou beholdett thefe
predigies, the works of his hand, think with what
botmty* he is able to reward the heart that is de-
voted to him. Remember, that among his {lu-
pendous
man race. It feems as if our i eafon has been enlarged in
proportion) to the immeafurable {pace that has been difco-
vered and tmverfed by the tight.
* Montefquieu {omethere tys, that the piélnrcs we
draw of hell are nifhetl; but that when we would t'yeul;
ofeternal happinefs, we know not what to prontife the good'
folks. This thought is an ztbufe ofthat lively wit he {ome-
times applies improperly. Let any fcn l e mutt re eél but
a momenton the number of keen and delicate pleafnres
that proceed from the mind. How far do they (inputs thote
of the lcntesl and \thttis the body without the mind?
What are our {en ttiohs when we chance to fall into a pro-
found and delicious reverie, where the inmgination roves
without re raintmnd creates to ittelfeani te and variega
ted delights that have no refemblancc to any material plea»
hires? Why cannot the power of the Creator increafe and
prolong
THE TWO INFINITIES. 1 15
pendous Works, man, endowed with the faculty of
perceiving and difceming them, holds the t
rank; and that, as the child of God, he ought to
venerate that refpeétable title. i
The 'fcene is then changed ; a microfcope is brought,
and a new univerfe, more attonithing, more wonder
ful than the former, is difplayed before him. Thofe
animated points that his eye for the rtt time be-
holds, that move in their ineonceivable exility, and
are endowed with the fame organs as the giants of
the earth, prefent to him a new attribute of the in.-
telligence of the Creator.
The patlor then proceeds in the fame tone: Feebk
beings as we are, placed between two in nities,
oppreli'ed on every tide hy the force of the divine
greatnefs,let us adore in {ilence the fame hand that
has illumined {0 many funs, and impretied with life
thefe imperceptible atoms. That ght, doubtlefs,
which has compofed the delicate [lruélure of the
heart, the nerves, the minutett bres of an emmct,
can ea ly penetrate the inmot t recetfes of our hearts.
What thought {0 hidden as to be concealed from
that almighty eye, to which the laé te'tl way appears
no more than the horn of a mite? Let us render
our thoughts all worthy to be knoh'n by God, to
whom
prolong that happy ute? Is not that ec afy which lls the
foul of the juft man, when meditating on his future (late,
a type ufhis future pleature, when the veil {hall be taken
away, and he {hall range over the Vail plan of the univerfe.
116 THE COMMUNION OI
whom they are ever expofed. How oft in the
courfe of the day, may the foul mount towards the
Supreme, and be ' [trengthened by his prefence !~
Alas! the whole courfe of our lives cannot be bet-
ter employed than in forming, at the bottom of
our hearts, an eternal hymn of praife, and acts of
thankfgiving.
The young man remains agitatedfmd a onifhe d
by the double impre ion that he receives almo : at
the fame in ant; he weeps with joy'; he cannot fatisfy
his ardent curio ty; he is tranfported at. every al-
vance he makes in thefe two worlds; his words age
nothing but a long hymn 0f admirationé his heart
pants with furprife aid awe. At there moments,
with what energy, with what ncerity dees he adore
the Being of beings! How is he lled with the
divine prefence! How does the telefcope extend,
ennoble his ideas, and render him worthy: to be an
inhabitant of this wonderful univerfe? He is cured
ofhis terrei irial ambitim, and of the little hatreds
that it engenders; he refpefts (Cl men as animatei
with the fame breath of life; he is the brother of all.
that the Creator has {Oimed "*.
His glory, from that hour, is to reap m the hea-
. ) .- .u q
ven ore of wondeis; he appears to himfen of men.
confequence, nce he has been endowed With the ca-
pacity
* They endeavoured to ridicule a faint, who (did, Feed
on, thou ewe, niy ller; leap for joy, ye i that are my
brethren. This faint was much more eitnnahlc than his.
fellows; he was, indeed, :1 philofopher.
THE T'VV01 INFIN LTIES... n7
pzcityo undert tandingvthefe great truths;:he>fays
tolhimfeif, GOd'i's'mamife to _me:; i my eye. has vi ted
Saturn, the, {tar Sirius, and; thofe funs that crowntlr
the milky- way ;» I nd that my being' is moresnoble
than I imagined, {ince-the Supreme has vouchfafed:
to eftablifh a reiation between my n-ihil ityr and his
greatnefs. 0! how happy am I to have received
lif e' a-ndzintel'ligence! :I begin to feel what will be the
lotiofI the v-irmous man . O r o - hounti lll God'l
gmnt-that- I may eternally love and1 adore- thee!
He returns many times to feaft' on thefe' fublime
ohje s; 'Ffomthat day he is i-nitiated-to the rank
of- thinking beings; but he religiou 'y keeps the-fe;
crer, that otherstho have not yet attained the age
to enjdy fuch prodigies, may feel the ame degree of
pleafure and furpri e. On the day confecrated'to
the praife- of the. Creator, it is an afeéting ght to
fee-on our obfervatory the numerous ad orers of God
falling on their knees, the: eye applied to the tele.
fcope, and the fpirit in prayer, fending firth their
fouls with their ght, towards the Fabricator of thefe
ltnpendous miracles". We then {mg certain hymns,
compofed in the vulgar tongue, by the r ; writer;
of
'- If to-morrow the nger of the Almighty fhould write
thefe words upon the clouds, in letters of re, Mortalx,
adore a chl doubtlefs, every one would fall on his knees
in adoration. Alas!~ thoughtlefs, {hipid mortals! Is it
nece ary that God {peak to thee in Frencli,.Chinefe, or
Arabic? What are the innumerable ats, rolling in V&-
cuity, but (acted charaéters intelligible to every eye, 'and
that :nanifefily declare a God, who reveals himfelfto us:
1 13 THE COMMUNION OF
of our nation; they are in every mouth, and defcribe
the wifdom and muni cence '6f the Divinity. We
cannot conceive how a whole peoplexcould formerly
invoke God in a language they did not under and:
that people mutt either have been very abfurd, or
have burned with a mof t devouring zeal.
Frequently, among us, a young man, giving
way to his tranfports, exptefl'es to all the a 'embly
the fentiments with which his heart is lled"; he
communicates his enthu afrn to the mo frigid tem-
pers; divine love in ames and inyigorates his ex-
pre ions. The Eternal then feems to defcend in the
tnidit of us, to li en to his children, who entertain
each other with his facred cares and his paternal good-
nefs. Our philofophers and a(tronomers are eager,
on thofe days of fe ivity to reveal their choicefl dif-
coveries; as heralds of the Divinity, they make us
fen ble of his prefence, even in thofe objeéls that ap-
pear to us the moit inanimate. All things are lled
with God they fay, and all things reveal him 1-. We
there-
When a young man is feized with the enthu afm of
virtue, even though it {hould be falfe or dangerous, we
(hould be cautious how we undeceive him. Leave him to
himfelf; he will difcover his error. Should you endeavour
to corre 'him, you may, by one word, chance to defiroy
his foul s health.
+ The exterior wort hip of the ancients con ed of feafts,
of hymns, and dances, together with a very few dogmas.
The Divinity was not regarded by them as a iolitary being,
armed with thunder~bolt55 he vouchfafed to.communicate
him.
THE TWO INFINITIES. 9
therefore doubt, whether, in all the extent Of the
kingdom", it is po ible to' rid one athei ". his not;-
fear that keeps him lent; we {hould think'him too
much worthy of pity to in iét any other punifhment
on him than fhame; we (hould only banith him from
among us, if he became an enemy to the public
good, and ob inately determined tb oppofe a palpa-
ble, comfortable, and falutary truthf; but ri t we
fhould enjoin him to go through an af duous courfe
of experimental phy cs. It would not be pomble
for him to oppofe the evidence of that deinonl trative
fcience; it has difcovered relations f0 ihrpri ng, {0
remote, and, at the fame time, {o mple, when once
they are known; there are {0 many accumulated won-
ders that lay hid in its bofom, and which are now
expofed to open day; in a word, nature is now {0
:lucidated, even in its minuteit parts, that he who
{hould
himfelf, and to render his prefence vitible. They thought
they did him more honour by featts than by tears and la-
mentation. The legi ature that is heft acquainted with the
human heart will always lead it to virtue by the mad of
pleétfure.
* It is for the atheifl to prove that the notion of a God
is contt adié tory, and that it is impo ible there {honld be
fu'ch a being; it is the duty of him that denies to produce
his reafons.
+ When they tell me of the athei ic mandarins of China,
who preach the mo admirable morality, and devote them-
felves entirely to the public good, I will not give'the lie to
the hi ory, but I will fay, that of all things in the world, it
appears to me the mot t incredible,
1-20 IHE COMMUNION 30F
1hduld' deny an intelligent Creator would not'only be
'regarded'as ar upideretch, butas a being totally
.p'ervetfe; and :to ' nd fucha one_amon-g :us would
b: acaufe 'of:mourning to the whole ~nation-*.
: But, thank heaven! 2.51119 gone -in=our/cit~y has
the 'miferable folly to de te to di inguifh himfelf-by
notions that-lare extravagant, and diametrically op-
po te'to the ,univerfal judgment of mankind, we are
hllof'one opinion on that important point; :and that
'being :fettle'd, you will readily believe, that principles
of the :pnrefl morality are ea ly deduced, fuppoxited,
as they are on that unihaken ba s 1-.
They thought, in your age, that it was impo 'ible
to pullers the people with a religion purely priritual;
that was a grievous 'error; many of your philofo-
phers reviled human nature on that falfe fuppo tion.
The idea of a. God devoid of every imperfeétion was
not, however, f0 dif cult to conceive. It is-proper
to repeat here once more, That it is the foul that
perceives God. Why {hould falfehood be more na-
tui al to man than truth ? It Would have been fu i-
cient for your age to have banifhed thofe impof cors
that traf cked in facred things, who pietended to be
mediators
'3 The omniprefence ofa great and bountiful God enno-
bles the frame of nature, and {preads every where a certain
v-i-vifying and animated air, which a fceptic and defponding
doé trine can never give.
1- I fear God," {aidacertain perfon; and after God»,
I fear none but the man who does not fear him."
2
THE TWO INFINXTIES. m
mediators between God and man, and who difFufe_d
prejudices even more vile than the gold by which
they were rewarded. In a word, idolatry, that an-
cient monfter, whom the painters, the atuaries, and
poets, have, to the misfortune and blinding of man.
kind, rivalled each other with deifying, has been
overthrown by our triumphant hands.
That there is_but one God, an uncreated fpirI.
tual Being, is the balls of our religion. There need;
but one fun to enlighten the univerfe; there needs
but one luminous idea to enlighten. human renion;
all thofe foreign and faélitious aids, with which they-
would a ilt the~ mind, ferve only to confound itvsv
they {ometimes give it, we confefs, an energy that the
mple truth does not always Ihow; but that is a'ftate
of intoxication which becomes dangerous. A reli-
gious fpirit has produced fuperllition; particular
forms of adoration have been prefcribed; and the
liberty of mankind, being attacked in its mo : valua-
ble privilege, has ju ly revolted. We abhor that
fort of tyranny; we aik nothing of the heart thatit
does acknowledge ;' but is it po ible for any one to
oppofe thofe luminous and a eéting impre ions that
are offered him merely for his-own happinefs?
'It is to offend againfl the in nitely perfeél Being,
to calumniute human reafon, or to reprefent it as an
uncertain and falfe guide. That divine law, which
{peaks from one end of the world to the other, is far
preferable to all faélitious religions invented by
prie s, whofe fatal e 'eéls prove them to be falfe;
they form a tottering edi ce that is in perpetual need
M of.
:22 THE COMMUNION OF
'of fre t props. The natural law is an unfhaken
tower, from whence itTue, not difcord, but peace,
and unanimity". Thofe impo ors, who have made»
God {peak according to the particular pat ons,
have caufed the molt horrid aftions to pafs for Vin
itues; and by proclaiming a barbarous God, thofe
wretches have driven many men of tender feelings
into atheifm, who naturally became more de rous
of deftroying the idea of a vindié'tive being, than of
difplaying it to mankind 1 .
We
* The natural law, {0 mpie and {0 pure, {peaks an uni-
form language to all nations; it is intelligible to every fen-
ble being; it is not furrounded by fhadows and myftcries;
it is animated; it is graved on every heart in indelible cha-
rafters; its decrees are fecure from the revolutions of the
earth, from the injuries of time, and from the caprice of
cuftom; eVery virtuous man is one of its priefts; errors and
vices are its vi ims; th'e univcrfe is its temple; and God
is the only Divinity it adores. Thefe things have been {aid
at thoufand times; but it is good {till to repeat them. Yes,.
morality is the only religion ncce 'ary to man; when he is
rational, then he is religious; when he is ufeful, then he is
virtuous. Evety mun perceives, when he ferioufly exa-
mines his own heart, when he con ders his own tuation,
Mhat he owes to liitntelf and to others.
+ It is by crufhing men by the weight ofterrors, it is by
renfounding their under anding, that moft leg' ators have
made' aves, and have attered themfelves with keeping
them eternally tinder their yoke. The hell that fome Chrif-
tians have imagined, is, wi'hont doubt, the mo injurious
ibiat f hemy thafever was o éred to the divine ju ice and
mercy. Evil ever makes-n {tronger impre f on on men than
good;
THE TWO INFINITIES. I23
We, on the contrary, it is on the goodnefs cf
the Creator, fu manifc ly expre ed, that we elevate
our hearts towards hiin. The fhadows of this 'low
world, the tran ent evils that a iiét us, even death
itfelf, cannot terrify us. All thefe are doubtlefs ufe-
f u], nece ary, and even tend to produce our greater
felicity. Our knowledge is bounded, and therefore
cannot'comprehend the de gns of the Omnifcient.
If the whole univexfe were to pats away, what iould
we fear, feeing, whatever happens, we Inuit neceffa-
rily fallnnder the proteétion of God.
CHAP.
good; therefore, a malevolent divinity {hikes the imagina-
tion more rongiy than one that is bene cent. For this
reafon it is that a gloomy, mournful afpeét prevails in all_
the religions of the world; they dirpofe mankind to melan
choly; the name of God perpetually renews in them a {enfe
of terror. A liai con dence, a rcfpeétftil hope, would 'do
far more honour to the Author of etery ,good; and with-
this genuine Chri ianity perfe iy accords; it conveys no
idea of punifhment for wickednefs but that of parental'
chattifement, the objeet of which is to reform and t the
{u erer for felicity.
M2
[I241
C H A P. XXII.
A REMARKABLE MONUMENT.
44$ Icame out of the temple, they condtt cd
me to a place not far di ant, to feeka monument
lately ere ed. It was of marble; it excited my
curio ty, and infpired me with a de re to fee through.
that veil of emblems with which it was furrounded.
They would not explain it ; but left me the pleafure
and reputation of the difcovery.
A commanding gure attraé tedmy mgard; by the
fweet majei ty of its countenance, by the dignity of
its ature, and by the attributes of peace and con-
cord, I tw that it was {acted Humanity. It was
furrcunded by other kneeling atues, reprefenting
women in the attitude of grief and remorfe. Alas!
this emblem was not di icult to explain; they repre-
fcnted the nations demanding pardon of Humanity
for the cruel wounds they had given her during the
lztl t twenty centuries. France, on her knees, im-
plored pardon for the horrible night of St. Bartho-
lomew, for the cruel revocation of the ediét of Nantes,
and for the perfecution of thofe {ages that fprung
upon her bofom. How, with her gentle afpeét,
could {he ever commit fuch foul crimes! England
abjured her fanaticifm, her two rofes, and {tretched
out her hand to philofophy ; {he promifed to fhed no
blood but that of tyrantsw'. Hoiland dete ed the
parties
* She has kept her word.
A REMARKABLE MONUMENT. 1 25»
parties of Gomar and Arminius, and the punifhment
0f the virtuous Barnevcit. Germany concealed her
haughtyfront, and few with horror the hi ory of
her inteftinc divi ons, and of her frantic theologic
rage, that was {0 remarkably contraf ced by the
natural coldnefs ofher conf tution. Poland beheld;
with indignation thofe defpiceble confederates, Who,
in my days, tore her entrails, and renewed the atro-
cities of the croifades. Spain, Hill more criminal
than her lters, groaned at the thought ef having»
covered the new continent? with thirty- ve millions
of earcafes, with having purfued the deplorable re-
mains ofa thou md nations into the depths of fore s,_
and into the caverns of rocks, and having taught
animals, lefs ferocious than themfeives, to drink
human blood; Spain may figh and fuplicate her ll,
but never ought to hope for pardon ; the punifhment-
of {0 many wretches condemned to the mines ought
for ever to be urged again herrt The attlary had
reprefented
* The Europeans in the new world : what a book yet
nnwrote!
'I'When I think on thofc-wretched beings who enjoy
nought of human nature but grief, buried alive in the en.
trails of the earth, ghing afterthat fun which t1 ey have
had the misfortune once to fee, but lhall 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
ofthe grave; then a fhivering runs through all my frmne,
Lfeemjodefcend into their internal regions, I breathe with
M 3" than:
126- A REMARKABLE MONUMENT.
reprefentad feveral mutilated aves, who, looking up
to heaven, cried for vengeance. We retired With
terror; we {cemed to heir their cries. The gure of
Spain was compofed of a marble veined with blood ;
:md thofe frightful {treaks are as indelible as the
the memory ofher crinies*.
At a di ance, was feen the gure of Italy, the
original caufe of f0 many evils, the rfl fource of
thofe furies that have coyered the two worlds. She
was pro rate, her face again the earth; the i ed
with her feet the aming torch ofexcommunication ;
{he feemed fearful to folicit her pardon. Iwould
have examined her afpeft more clofely; but; on a.
near approach, I found a thunder-bolt that lately
fell had blackened her vifage and de royed all her
features.
Radiant Humanity raifed her pathetic front amidtt
all thefe humble and humiliated gures. I remarked
that the atuary had given her the features of that
free and courageous nation, who broke the chains of
tyrants;
them the {tench of the torches that illumine their hideous
dwellings; 1 fee that gold, the idol of mankind, in its true
afpeét; and {omething tells me, that Providence ought to
attach to that metal, the fourceof {0 many barbarities, the
chafiifement ofthofe iiinttmerable evils that it caufes, even
hefore it fees the day.
* Twenty millions of men have fallen by the {word of
Spaniards, and the kingéqtzsof Spain contains {carce {even
millions.
AV REMARKABLE MONUMENT. 127
tyrants; the hat of the great Tell* adorned her
head, and formed the mo : refpetftable diadem that;
ever bound the brows of a monarchf. She fmiled
upen augu Philofophy, her tter, whofe pure hands
were fpread towards heaven, by whom {he was re
garded with the highe : complacency.
In going from this place, I obferved toward the
right, on a magni cent pedel cal, the gure of a ne-
groe; his head was bare, his arm extended, his eye
erce, his attitude noble and commanding; round
him were fpread the broken relics (Sf twenty {cep-
ters; and at his feet I read thefe words: To the
Amiga (fill: New 11/071751.
I cried out with furprife and joy.- - Yes, they
faid, with equal rapture; nature has at la : pro-
duced
* William Tell, the famous Swifs, who was commandeif
by Gri er, governor of Switzerland for the emperor Alber-
tus, to [boot an apple off his fon's head, anding at a con-
derable di ance, which he did without hurting the child.
He was one of the principal perfons concerned in the revu-
lution which happened in that country, in the year 1307.
+ If Plato was to revifit the earth, he would certainly
regard with admiration the Helvetic republics. The Swifs
have excelled in that which con itutes the effence of a re.
public, which is, to preferve its own liberties without at-
tempting tiny thing againft that of others. Good faith,
candour, a love of labour, an alliance with all nations, un-
known in hittory, {trength and courage fupported in the
midft of a profound peace, notwithfianding the difference
ofreligions, are what may lerve as a model to all nations,
and make them blu t at their follies. '
123 A REMARKABLE MONUMENT.
duced this wonderful man, this immortal man, who
was to deliver a world from the molt outrageous,
the moit inveterate and atrocious tyranny. His fa.
gacity, his valour, his patience, his fortitude, andlvir-
tuous vengeance, have been rewarded ; he has broke
a mder the chains of all his countrymen. ' So vaf c a
number of flaves, oppreffed by the molt odious fervi-
tude, feemed but to wait his gnal to beeome fo many
heroes. Not the torrent that breaks the dykes, nor
the bur ing thunder, have a more fudden, or more
violent effet t. At the fame initant, they poured forth
the blood of all their tyrants ; French, Spanifh,
Englifh, Dutch, and Portuguefe, all became a prey
to the fword, to re, and poifon. The {oil o'fAmerica
drank with avidity that blood for which it had ft) long
thirited ; and the bones of their ance brs, cowardly
butchered, feem to rife up and leap for joy.
The natives have rea hmed their unalienable
rights, as they were thofe of nature. This heroic
avenger has given liberty to a world, of which he is
the titular deity ; and the other world has decreed
him crowns and homages. He came like the Pcorm
Which extends itfelf over fome criminal city that the.
thunder is ready to de roy; he was the exterminating
angel, to whom God re gned his {word ofjuflice ;
11:. has {hown by this example, that fooner or later,
cruelty will .be punifhed; and that Providence keeps
in referve fuch mighty fouls, to fend them upon the
earth, that they might re ore that equilibrium which
the iniquity of ferocious ambition had de royed*.
*- This hero doubtlefs, would have {pared thofe generous
quakers, who have lately given their {lewcs their liberty;
a me:
E 1'29 I
C H A P. XXIII.
THE. BREAD, THE WINE, $52.
I WAS f0 pleated with my Condué tor, that
I was fearfulteyery in ant left he {houldv quit me.
The hour for dinner had been rung; as I Was far
di ant from my lodging, and-as all my acquaintance
were deed, I was looking out for fome tavern, where
I'might civily invite him to dine, and. acknowledge
his complaifance at legit; but was continually at a.
lofs, for we paffed through feveral {treets without
feeing one place of entertainment.
What is beeomev, I faid, of all thofe taverns, all
thofe eating-houfes, that, united and divided in the
fame employ, were continually at variance With each
other*, that: {warmed at every corner, and formerly
peopled»
[a memorable and a 'efling epoch, at which I ied tears of
joy, and that makes me deteft thofe Chriltians who do not
imitate them.
* He that turns the fpit muff not lay' the cloth, and he
that lays the cloth muft not turn the (pit. 1t would be cu-
rious to examine the bye léws of the feveral communities
of the good city of Paris. The parliament fat gravely for
{everal days, in order to x the invariable rights of a matt-
ing cook. A remarkable caufe of this kind has lately oc~
cured. The company'of bookfellers of Paris pretend, that
the genius of a Montefquieu, a Corneille, &c- belongs of
right
130 THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c.
peopled the city ? - That Was one of the abufes,
your age fu ered to fub l c; they tolerated a mortal
fophillication that killed the citizens when in perfeét
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 necemty of repairing
their exhau ed [trength after labour, drank a ow
poifon in that dete able liquor, whofe daily ufe con-
cealed the per dy; their nerves were weakened, their
entrails dried up. What could you expeét ? The
duty was become f0 exce ive, that it greatly { urpa :
ed the price of the commodity. One would have
imagined 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 poifom
ed, provided the farmers of the taxes were able to
advance in their contraéts every year*. The taxes
muft
right to them ; that whatever proceeds from the brain ofa
philof'opher forms a part of their patrimony; that all hu-
man learning, when once [tamped upon paper, becomes a
commodity in which no man has a right to deal but them-
felves ; and that the author oflthe work can reap no fort
ofadvantage from it, but what they pleafe to grant him.
Thefe extraordinary pretentions have been publicly expofed
in a printed memoir. M. Linguet, a man of letters, of
eloquence, and ot a fruitful genius, has poured down ridi-
cule in great plenty on thofe ludicrous venders of books ;
but, alas, the force of the ridicule falls on the wretched le-
gi ation of the commerce of France.
* A peatanthad an afs that carried panniers. which his
matter lled with apples to the brim. The poor animal,
though
THE BREAD, THE WINE, 86c. ,3,
mu be raifed, the price of wine mu be enormou y
enhanced, to fatisfy the horrible avarice of the far-
mer-general; and as the great people were not. af-
feéled by this fecx et poifon, it was very indifferent to
them how fall the fcum of the earth difappeared, for,
{0 they 'called the labouring part of the nation.
How was it po ible that they could willingly turn
their eyes from a murderous abufe, and one that was
fo fatal to fociety? What! could they publicly fell
poifon in your city, and the magi rate give himfelf
no concern about it? 0 barbarous pebple! Among
us, the crime ofthe cheating adulterator is capital; the
poifoner would be put to death; but we have fvtept
away thofe vile tax-gatherers, who corrupted every
commodity they- touched. Our wines arrive in the
public market as nature has formed them, and the
citizen of Paris, tich'or poor, drinks in a falutary 1i-
quor,
though heavily loaden, trod on with obedient and patient
Reps. 'At a nal] di ance from his village, the clown {aw
tome ripe apples that hung over the path. O, fays he,
you can carry thefe, as you carry the others to well. The
afs, as patient as his matter was rapacious, redoubled his
efforts, but his {trength wasunequal to his obedience. They
had not gone far before the clown {aw an apple lie upon the
ground. ' O, for this one, he faid, one can never make
any difference. The poor bcatt was unable to reply; but
his {trength was exhau ed, 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 mutt be a very paci c, ars-
like people indeed, who will {uffer themfelves to be cru a.
ed to death: if they have any {pirit, they will die rft.
1 32 THE BREAD, I HE WINE, Bzc .
quor, a health to his king, to the king that he loves,
and by whom he is both beloved and efteemed. ~
And the bread, is that dear 9 It is con antly at
the fame price"; for we have wifely e ablilhed pub-
lic granaries, always full of com, in cafe of necef
ty; and which we do not imprudently fell to {tran-
gers, to buy it again twice as dear three months
after. They have balanced the intere of the grower
and the confumer, and both have therein found their
account. Exportation is not forbid, astit is highly
ufeful; but it is cojn ned to judicious bounds. A
man of ability and integrity watches over this equili-
brium, and {huts the ports, when it inclines too much
to one de". Be des, canals are now cut through
the
" The beft method to diminifh the vices ofa people is to
render them eafy and content. Nece ity begets three-
fourths of their crimes. The people, among whom reigns
plenty, are not pe ered with thieves 01 murderers. , The
r maxim that a king Ihould learn is, that the good man-
ners ofa people depend upon a competency of provi ons.
1 We make the ncft fpeculations in the world; We
calculate, we write, we are immerfed in political ideas,
and never were errors f0 multiplied. Common {enfe
would certainly let thefe matters in a much clearer light.
We are become barbarians and fcepticsrwith the retended
balance ofreafon in our hands. Let us again become men.
It is the heart, and not the head, that forms great and gene-
rous aétions. Henry IV. wasthe bett of kings, not becaufe
he had more exten ve views than others, but becaufe
being {incerely the friend of man, his heart diEtated thofe
meafures that {ecured their happinefs. What an unhappy
ageis that, when they only reafon about it.
4.
THE BREAD, THE WINE, 83c. r23
the kingdom; we have joined the Saonto the Mo-
felle and the Loire, and have thus formed a new
junétion between the two feasin nitely more ufefu l
than the ancient. Commerce fpreads its treafures
from Am erdam to Nantes, and from Rouen to
Marfeilles; we have formed a canal in Provence,
which was wanted by that ne country, favoured by
the molt benign regards of the fun. In vain, did a
zealous citizen offer you his difcoveries and his labour;
while you maintained a number of trif ing workmen
at a great expence, you fu 'ercd that great man to.
attend for twenty years in a forced inaftivity. In a.
word, our lands are [0 well cultivated, the lgvank of a
hutbandman is become {0 reputable, and fuch order
and liberty reign throughout the country, that if any
jnan in power {hould abufe it, by'committing a mo.
nopoly, jullice, who lifts her balance over the palace
of the king, would immediately bridle his temerity.
Juftice is no longer an empty name, as it was in your
age; her fword defcends on everyguilty 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 difpofed to fraud, to rat-
pine, and oppre ion of every kind. Inform me
more partieularly, I entreat you, of this important
matter. It feems you have adopted the prudent me-
thod of magazining your corn ; that is wifely done;
you are thereby fure to prevent a public calamity.
My age committed grievous errors in this matter;
they were {killful in calculations; but they never
made allowance for the horrid quantity of abufes.
Writers, who had good de gns, fuppofed ajuft re.
N gulation,
,34- THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c.
,gulation, beeamfe with that all things run on per-
feétly eafy; 0, how they argued about the famous
law of exportation"! and while they were bu ed in
their ne difputations, how the people fut fered by'
famine
* This famous law, which was to have been the gnal of
public felicity,» has been the {ignal of famine. It has de-
royed the good elfeéts of the, molt fruitful harvetls 5 itrhus
devoured the poor at the door ofthe granaries that. cracked
with the weight of corn. A mortal fcqurge, unknown to
the nation, has rendered its own foil 3 ranger, and has
difplayed the molt horrid depravation of humanity; man
has {hown himfelf the molt cruel enemy to man. Terrible
example, and as dangerous as the {courge itl'elfl In a
word, the law has confecrated private inhumanity. I am
very ready to fuppofe great benevolence1n thofe writers,
who have been the fuppmters of this law; perhaps it may
one day do good, but it mutt be eternally reproached with
having caufed, though undefignedly, the death ofthoufands
of men, and the miferies of thofe that death has {pared'.
They were too precipitate; they forefaw all, except the
avarice of man, f0 rongly excited by that dangerous 211..
lurement. It is a {yphon (as M. Linguet has emphatically
expreffed it) that has been put into the hands ofcommerce,
and by which it has fucked out the fub ance of the people.
The public clamour {hould take place ofthe public gazettes.
We have heard the cries of grief; therefore the in itution
is bad That the evil proceeds froma local caufe is no
argument; it fhould be forefeen and prevented; it {hould
be remembered, that an article ot the utmott nece ity Ouoht
not to be abandoned to fortuitous events; tha fo g1eat a
novelty, in a vafl kingdom, would give it a [hock that
would certainly opprcfs the weakeft part. The oecono-
mitts, however, promifed themfelves the contrary. They
mutt avow, that they have been milled, even by :1 de ne to
ferve
THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c. 1 35
famine! Thank Providence who has watched oVer
this kingdom, or you would have fed ori the grafs
of the field ;- but it had pityon you, and pardoned
you, becaufe you knew not what you did. How
proli c is error!
There is one profe ion, which is common to al-
molt all the inhabitants; which is that of- agriculture,
taken
ferve the public; that they had not fu iciently matured
their projeét; that they had con dered it feparately only,
whereas in the political {economy all things are conne tcd.
It is not fu icient to be calculators; they fhould be Hatef
men; they {hould con der what will be deftroyed or altered
by the pathons, and what etfeét the weight of the rich will
have on the poor. They have con dered the objefl: from
three points of view only, and have omitted that which was
of the utmoft importance, that which related to the labour-
ing part oflhe people, and who compote three fourths of
the nation. The price of their daily labour15 not increafed,
and the avarice of the far-mersgeneial holds themm a Hill
greate1 dependence; they ,are not able to appeafe the cries
of their children by redoubling their labours. The dear-
nets of bread has been the thermometer'of other provi ons,
and each private perfon has found himfelf let s rich by one
half. This law, therefore, has only {erved as a {creen to
increafe legally the mofl horrid monopolies; it has been
turned again the/ nation whom it was to have made (lou-
rifh. Sigh, writers! and though you have followed the
generous notions of a heart truly patriotic, learp how dan-
gerous it is not to know your age and mankind, and to give
them a wholefome gift which they may turn into a poifon.
It remains for you now to comfort the ck, to point out
their remedy, and, if it be po ible, to fave them from de-
fh uétion. Hic labor, bot 9pm.
N2.
136 THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c.
taken in its fulleft extent. The women, as weak, are
cleftined'to cares purely dome ic, never laboured the
land; their hands prepared the wool, .the ax, &c.
Man\would blufh to load them with any laborious
employ.
Three things are-held in peculiar honour among
us; to be the father of a child, to cultivate a eld, .
and to build a houfe. Thel iculture of the land is
alfo moderate; the hufbandman does not toil from
early dawn till after fun~fet, bear all the heat of the
day, and exhau ed nk, imploring in vain a fmall
portion of what {prings from'the labour of his hands.
Can there be a de iny more difh'efsful, more horrid,
than that of'the poor peafant, who nds his labours
continually increa ng, and lls with groans the (hon:
fpace ofhis days? What avery is not preferable to
the» eternal ruggle again : thofe vile .tyrantsvwho
continually pillage their huts, by impo ng taxes on
extreme indigence ? The excefs of contempt, with
which they are treated, makes them infen ble even
to defpair; and, in his deplorable condition, the op-
pre 'ed, degraded villager, while he ploughs the heavyr
land, bows down his head, and nds no difference
between himfelf and his ox.
Our fertile plains refound with fongs ofjoy; the
father of each family fets the example: the tail: is
eafy; and when it is done, joy begins; the intervals
of repofe render their labour more vigorous; and
it is con antly attended by {ports or rural dances.
Formerly, they went to the towns in {catch of plea-
fure;
THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c. :37
fure; now they nd it in the villages, where each
one hears a fmiling vifage. Labour has no longer
an ugly and forbidding afpeét, as it no longer refem-
bles avery; a gentle voice invites them to their du-
ty, and all becomes eafy, and even agreeable. In
fhort, as we have not that number of idle fubjeéts,
which, like agnating humours, impedes the circula-
tion of the body politic, each individual has time for
plea ng amufement, and no one rank is cruihed to
fupport another.
You will ea ly conceive, therefore, that having
no monks, nor prie s, nor numerous dome ics, nor
ufelefs valets, nor workmen employed in childifh lux-
uries, a few hours of labour are {u icient for the
public wants. Our lands produce plenteous crops of
every kind; what is fuperfluoiis We fend to foreign-
ers, and receive in return other commodities.
You will nd our markets abundant in all things
neceITary to life; pulfe, fruits, foWls, fh, &c. The
rich do not, by their extravagance, opprefs the poor;
far from us is the fear'of not having a fu iciency;
we never praétice the infatiable avidity of procuring
three times more than we can confume; we regard
di ipation with horror.
If nature, during one year, treats us with rigour,
the fcarcity does not (ioft the lives of thoufands; the
granaries are opened, and the wife precautions of
man, foftens the inclemency of the air and the wrath
of heaven. A food that is meagre, dry, badly pre.
N 3 pared,
133 THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c.
pared, and ofunwholefome juices, does not enter the
{tomach of the man accu omed to hard labour; the
rich do not feparate the neit our, and leave to
others the bran only; fuch an outrage would be re-
garded as a ihameful crime; if we fhould know that
a ngle man languifhed for want, we {hould all re-
gard ourfelves as culpable; every man would lament
his crime with tears.
The pooreii fubjeét, therefore, is free from all
apprehen ons of want; famine, like a threatning
fpeétre, d0e5_ not call the labourer from his raw,
while he is drowning his griefs for a few minutes in
eep. He rifes without forrowfully regarding the
dawning day. When he would appeafe the fenfa-
tions of hunger, he is not fearful of conveying, with
his food, poifon into his veins.
They who are in pofTeHion of riches employ them
in making new and ufeful experiments; fuch as ferve
more clearly to inveftigate a fcience, or carry an art
toward perfe ion; they ereét majeftic edi ces; they
are dittinguifhed by honourable enterprizes; their
fortune does not flow into the lap of a foil] concu~
hine, or upon an iniquitous table, where roll three
dice; their wetlth takes a form, a confiftence that is
refpeé table in the pleafed eyes of the citizens. The
darts of envy, therefore, never attack their polTef-
ons; we blefs thofe generous bands, which, as de-
po taries of the gifts of Providence, have ful lled
its views, by ereéting fuch ufefhl mcnuments.
H But
THE BREAD,-THE WINE,'&e. 139
But when we con der the wealthy of your age,
the fcavengers carts, I think, did not contain matter
more vile than their fouls; gold in their hands, bafeé
nefs in their hearts, they formed a kind ofconfpiracy
againft the poor; they rioted in 'the labour, the care,
and pains of a numerous, unfortunate people; they
regarded with unconcern the fweat of their brows,
and thofe terrors that made them fee an old age
abandoned to want; their violence became ju ice;
the laws were ionly exerted to fanétify their robberies.
As a re delttoys all that is near it,fo they deflt'oyed
all that joined to their lands ; and if they were rob-
bed but of an apple, they raifed inceHant clamours,
and death alone eould .expiate f0 enormous a crime. ;
- -What could I reply? I held down my head; and
falling into a profound reverie, I walked concentered
in my thoughts. You will have other fubjeéts for
refleé tion, {aid my guide; remark (as your eyes
are xed on the ground) that the blood of animals
does not ow in the Ptreets and awake the idea of
carnage; the air is freed from that cadaverous fcent,
which engendered {0 many difeafes. A clean ap-
pearance is the moft certain gn of public order and
harmony; it reigns in every part. From a falutary,
and I will venture to fay, moral precaution, we have
eftablifhed aughter-houfes out of the town. If na-
ture has condemned us to eat the eih of animals,
we {hould at leaft {pare ourfelves the ght of their
death. The trade of a butcher is followed by to.
reigners driven from their country, they are proteéted
by the law; but we do not rank them in the clafs of
citizens; no one. of us exercifes that fanguinary and
cruel
140 THE PRINCE A PUBLICAN.
cruel art ; we are fearful left it {hould infen bly ac-
cuf tom our brethren to lofe the natural impre ion
of pity, which, you know, is the mof c amiable and
moft worthy prefent nature has given us".
l
l
C H A P; XXIV.
THE PRINCE AV PUBLICAN.
YOU are defirous to dine, _ {aid my
guide; for the Walk has procured you an appetite.
Very well; let us enter this public houfe. I [top-
ped fhort. You do not obferve, I {aid, this is fome
nobleman s gate; there are his arms; it is a prince
that lives here.- Aye, certainly, he is a prince;
for he alw1yskkeeps three open tables; one {or him-
felf and his family, another for Rmngers, and a third
for the neceflitous. Are there many fuch tables
kept in town. Yes, by all the princes. You
mutt then have a great number ofidle para tes. -
Not at all; for when any one makes a praé tice of
it,
The Banians eat nothing that has hadlife; they are
even fearful of killing the leaft infeét; they throw rice and
beans into the river, and grain upon the earth for the non.
rifhment of the fh and birds. When they meet a hunter
or iiiher, they pray him earneftly to de from his enter-
prize; and it he be deaf to their prayers, they offer him
money for his gun or nets; and if that will not do, they
trouble the waters, and cry with all their rength to drive
away the birds. Hi ory of Voyages.
THE PRINCE A PUBLICA-N. ,4;
it, and is not a ftranger, he is marked; the cenfors
0f the city inquire into his abilities, and a ign him~ari
employment; or iflie be found fit for nothing hilt
to eat, he is baniihed the city, as in the republic of
bees, they drive all thofe from the hive who are only
able to confume the common ock. You have then
cenfors? Yes; or they rather merit another name;
they are monitors that hear about the torch of reafon,
and cure indocile Or rebellious fpirits, by employing
fometimes the eloquence of the heart, and fometimes
gentlenefs and addrefs.
Thefe tables are intended for the aged, the tick,
teeming women, orphans, and rangers. Every one
ts down without lhame, and without he tation';
they there nd a wholefome, light, and plentiful re-
pa z. This prince, Who refpeéts humanity, does not
difplay a luxury as o 'en ve as it is fattuous; he does
not employ three hundred men in providing 3. din-
ner for twelve perfons; his table does not reprefent
the decorations of an opera; he does not glory in
what is a real difgrace, in a fenfelefs, mon rous pro-
fu on"; when he dines, it is fut cient that he has
\an appetite; he thinks, it would be to make a god
.of himfelf, to have a hundred difhes ferved up to
him,
When we fee the print of Gurgantua, that has a mouth
as large as anloven, and twallows atone meal twelve hunt-
dred pounds of bread, twenty oxen, a hundred teep, x
hundred fowls, fteen hundred hares, two thoufand quails,
a thoufand barrels of wine, x thoufand peaches, &c. &c.
&c.- who does not fay, That is the mouth ofa king t"
142 THE PRINCE A PUBLICAN.
him,.which, like the ancient idols he could not
tafte.
While we were conver ng, we cro 'ed two courts,
and entered a very long hall, which was that for
' rangers. 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 nourifhing foup, fome pulfe, a few wild
fowl, and fome fruit, all plainly dretfcd*.
This, I faid, is admirable. 0, how excellently
are riches employed, when they feed the hungry ! I
nd this way of thinking far more noble, and more
worthy oftheir rank. . . . . All pa 'ed with the greate
order; a decent and animated converfation gave an
additional pleafure to this public table. The prince
appeared; he gave his orders on one de and the
other, in a noble and affable manner ; he came
fmiling to me, and inquired about the age I lived
in; he conjured me to be ncere. Alas! I fetid,
your di ant ance ors were not {0 generous as you
are; they paired their days in hunting" and at
table ;
l have feen .a king, entering the hotel of a prince,
through a large court lled with wretches, who cried, with
alanguifhing voice, Give us fome bread? and after
hearingtheir cries, without making any reply, the king and
the prince have fat down to a dinner that coft near a milliou
of livres.»
The chace fhould be regarded as an ignoble, wretched
diver on; we {hould never kill any animals but from necef-
l) ;
THE PRINCE A PUBLICAN. 143
table; if they killed hares, it was from idlenefs, 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 valets, in horfes and
atterers. In 'a word, they followed the trade
of courtiers; they abandoned the caufe of their
country.
Every one lifted up his hands in amazement: I
had the greateit dif culty to make them believeiitw
Hi ory, they faid, does not tell us this; on the
the contrary Ah! I replied, the hif torians
were {till more criminal than the princes.
CHAP.
lity; and of all employments, it is furely the moft ungrate-
ful. I always read with a repeated attention what Mon-
taigne, Rou 'eau, and other philofophers have wrote on
the Chace. I love thofe good Indians who refpeét even the
blood of animals. The natural difpo tions of men are
painted in the'fort of pleatures they purfhe; and what a
wretched pleafure to bring down a bloody partridge from
.the air! to maffacre a number ofhares under their feet! to
follow twenty howling dogs, and fee them tear a poor ani-
mal! He is weak,_ he is innocent, he is timidity itfelf; a
free inhabitant of the foreft, he falls into the cruel jaws of
his enemies, while man purines, and pierces his heart with
ajavelin; the barbarian {miles to-fee his beauteous (ides
betmeared with blood, and the fruitlefs tears {tream from
his eyes. A diver on like this muft take its fource from a
heart naturally infen ble 3 and the charaéter of-a hunter is
that ofan indifference prompt to change into cruelty.
[I443
C H A P. XXV.'
THE THEATRE.
AFTER dinner, they propofed going to the
play. I always loved the theatre, and {llall loye it
a thoufand years hence, if I fhould live [0 long. My
heart bounded With joy. What play is it 9 Which
'of all your dramas is reckoned the ma er-piece by
the people? Shall I fee the Per an, Grecian, Roman,
or French drefs? Will they dethrone fome Pchpid
tyrant, or [tab fome weak unguarded wretch? Shall
I fee a confpiracy or fome gho afcend from the
tomb at the found of thunder? But, gentlemen, have
you any good aé tors? they have been at all times
as fcarce as great poets. Why, yes, they take
pains; they Rudy; they fuffer themfelves to be in-
ruéted by the bell 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 tolerable aétor or
laé trefs ; the re : were all worthy ofthe booths on the
Boulevarda". You had a fmall miferable theatre in
a city that r-ivalled Rome and Athens; and that
theatre'was miferably governed. The comedian, to
whom
. 1' The Boulevards are a part of the ancient rampartS of
Paris, which in the {ummer months are lined with :1 great
number of coffee and mufichuufes, puppet fhews, conjurers,
wild bealts, rope dancers, and every other kind of low
diver on.
I
THE THEATRE: I45
whom a fortune was given that he was far from
meriting, had the infolent pride to harafs the man
of genius, who found himfelf obliged to re gn to
him his long-laboured piece*. Thefe men did
not blulh to refufe, or play with regret, the belt
dramas; while thofe they received with rapture
bore, by that very teltimony, the marks of fudden
reprobation. To conclude, our aétors do not intere t
the public with the quarrels of their dirty, miferable
barn.
7e have four theatres, in the middle of the four
quarters 'of the city. They are fupported by the
government; for they are made public fchools of
tal te and morality. We have difcovered all that
influence which the afeendency of genius has over
fen ble
'* In France, the government is monarchical and the
theatre republican . By their pre{ent manner of proceed-
ing, the dramatic art will not be foon brought to perfeftion.
I will venture to af rm, that every piece of any excellence
will be profcribed by the government. Authors write
tragedies on antique fubjeé ts; we mull have romances, and
not reprel cntatiuns capable of all'eéting and infh'ufting the
nation :, lull us with fomc old {lory ofa cock and a bull; but
do notdeferibe modern events, and lealt of all fuch men as
now exilt.
1 There are no managers, or at leaft feparate proprietors,
at either of the theatres of Earls. The whole company make
one lmdy, and divide the pro ts among them.
0
145 THE THEATRE.
fen ble minds . Genius has produced the molt
wonderful effeéts, Without labour and without vio-
lence. It is in the hands of the great poets that'art
depo ted, f0 to fay, the hearts of their fellow-citi-
zens, and which they modify after their own pleaihre.
How criminal are they, when they produce dan-
gerous principles! but how {hort is our molt lively
acknowledgment, when they combat vice and fupport
humanity! Our dramatic authors have no other
view than the improvement of human nature; they
all ftrive to elevate and Rrengthen the mind, and to
"render
* At the fair, and on the ramparts, they give the people
pieces that are grofs, ridiculous, and obfcene, when it were
{0 eafy to give them tuch as are elegant, pleating, in ruétive,
and adapted to theircapacities ; but it is of little concern to
thofe that govern, whether the body be poifoned at the
public home, by adulterated wine poured into pewter
veff els, or the mind corrupted at the fair by wretched farces.
Ifthe le 'ons for theft that are given by the buffoon Nicolet,
and which are regarded as rokes of wit, are followed, a
gibbet is-prefently ereEted. There is even a {entence ofthe
police that exprefsly condemns the people ts fee licentious
exhibitions, and that forbids the players of the Boulevards
to perform any thing that is rational, and that out ofre
gard to the refpe uble privileges of the king s comedians.
It is in a polite age; it was in the year 1767, that this fen-
tence was publithed. With what contempt do they treat
the poor people! How is their in ruétion negleéted, as
if there were reafon to fear their acquiring any jutt lights!
It is true, that, in return, they cull, with the greateft
nicety, the verfes that are to be pronounced on the French
theatre.
2
THE THEATRE. I47
render it independent and virtuous. The good citi-
zens thcmfelves ready and a iducus in promoting
thofe chef d oeuvres that atFet t, interef t, and en-
dow the heart with that falutary emotion that dif
pofes it to compa ion; the charaéteriftic of true
gt eatnefs*.
We arrived at a fpacious piace, in the midPt of
which was {ituate an edi ce ofa maje ic compotitinn.
On the top of the front were placed fev'eral allege-
xical gures. On the right was Thalia, plucking off
the mafk with which vice had covered her vifage,
and with her nger pointing to her deformity. On
the left, Melpomene, armed with a poignard, opened
the brea : of a tyrant, and expofed to every eye the
ferpents that devoured his heart.
The in de of the theatre formed an advanced femi-
circle; f0 that the ne étators were all commodiou y
dittributed. Every one was feated; and when I re-
colleéted,
" What force, what e eét, what certain triumph, would
not our theatre have, ifgovernment, in ead of regarding
it as an afyldm for idlers, would con der it as the {Chool
of virtue and of the duties of acitizen! But what have men
of the greatett genius amongft us done? they have taken
their fubjeéts from the Greeks, the Romans, Per ans,
85:. they have prefented us with foreign, or rather faétitious
manners. Harmonious poets, faithlefs painters, they have
drawn ideal piétures; withtheir heroes, their tumid verfes,
their monotony of pa ions, and their ve aé ts, they have
depraved the dramatic art; which is nothing more than a
(imple, faithful, animated painting of the manners of our
cotemporaries.
143 THE THEATRE.
celleét'ed the'fatigue I had formerly fuffered to fee a
play, I found this people 'more prudent, more atten-
tive to the convenience of their fellow-citizens; they
had not the infolent avidity to cram in more perfone
than the houfe would conveniently hold ; there were
fame places -;tlways left empty for f mmgers ; the
cempnny was brilliant ; the ladies were elegantly
drc 'ed, and decently difpofed.
The performance opened with a fymphony adapt-
ed to the piece that was to be reprefented. Are we
at the opera? I exclaimed; this mu c is fublime.
We have found the mean of uniting, without con-
,fu on, the two exhibitions in one, or rather of re-
viving the alliance of poetry and mu c that was
formed by the ancients. During the interaéts 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 he offerg
ed. Far from us is bnniihed all ell eminate, capricious,-
or noify mu c, that {peaks not to the heart. Your
opera was a grotefque, mon mus compo tion. We
have referved all of it that was good. In your own
time it was far from being fecure from the juf c re-
proach of men of fenfe and tafteal ; but now . . . . .
As he {aid thefe words,' the curtain rofe. The
fcene was at Touloufe; I {aw its capitol, its magif
trates,
* The opera cannot but be very dangerous; but there
is no fpeétacle {o expen ve to government: it is even the
only one about which it is interefted.
THE THEATRE; 14)
trates, the judges the executioner, and the fanatic
people. The family of the unfortunate Calms ap-
peared, and drew tear's froth my eyes. The old man
cametforward with -his hoary locks, his tranquil
rmnefs, his gentle heroifm : I {aw the fatal deftiny
mark his innocent head with all the appearance of.
criminatity. What molt affeé ted me was the truth
that ran through this drama. They had been very
cautious not to dis gure this pathetic fubje'ét by im-
probabilities, or by the monotony of our rhiming
verfes; the poet, in Following the Reps of this cruel
event, had attached himfelf to tho e incidents only
which the deplorable tuation of each viétim pr0«
duced, or rather he had borrowed their language;
for 2111 the art con fts in faithfully repeating the voice
of nature. At the end of the tragedy, theypointed
me out: Thereis the man, they faid, who was
cotemporary to that unhappy age ;" he heard the cries
of the unbridled populace, excited by this David!
He was a \vitnefs t0 the fury of that abfurd fanati-
cifm! I wrapped myfelf up in my cloak; I hid
my face, while I bluihed for the age in which I was
born. . They gave out for the next day, the tragedy
of Cromwell, or the Death of Charles l.* and 311'
the'people appeared highly pleafed. That piece.
they faid, was a chef-d oetivre; the cuufe'ofkings
and of the people, had never been reptefented with
that force, that eloquence, and truth.: Cromwell
\V115
On what are you dreaming, tragedians? While {itch
a fubjcét offers itfelf, yon tellus aboutl er ans and Greeks;
you give us romances in rhime; ah! give us Cromwell.
03
1 5° II-I E THEATRE.
was 2111 avenge1, a l1e1o worthy of the {c'eptre he
caufed to fall from the hand of one that was per -
dious and criminal towards the Rate. Kings, Taid
they, whofe hearts are difpofed to inju i ce, can
never read that drama. Without blanching their
haughty fronts.
- They announced for the feeond piece, The Hunt-
ing-Mateh of Henry IV. His name is con antiy
adored ;. future good kings have not been able to cf-
face his. memory. This piece does not {how that
the manrdis guggs the hero. The conqueror of the
league nevet appeared to me {0 great as at that in-
il'ant, when, to fave trouble to his hoits, his viétoricus
arm borea pile ofdifhes. The people clapped their
hands with tranfport; and by applauding the great
and bene cent mind of that monarch they heaped
commendations on. their own king.
I came away highly fatis ed. Thefe 361015, I {aid
to my guide, are excellent; they have fouls, they.
feel, they exprefb ; they have nothing conftrained, af-
feéted, gigantic, 0r outré; even the very afliftants
perform their parts, in faét, that is ext1aordinary. -
It is, he replied, on the theatre as in common
iifc; every one places his glory in afting well his
part, which, 110w low foever it may be, becomes
honourable to him who therein exceiis: Declamation
is regarded as an efiimable :md important art by our
gotcrnment. Heirs of your capital works, \veperiorm
ehcm-to a perfeétion that would aftonifh you; we know
how to do honour to that which genius has traced.
0, what
THE THEATRE. 1 5,
0, what art is more piea ng than that which paints
ally the combinations of fentiments by the looks, the
voice, and the ge ure! What an harmonious and
a 'eéting whole 1 and what energy does it borrow
from mplicity! You have then diveited yourfelves
of great prejudices? I doubt whether you regard
the profe ien ofa comedian as bafe. It has ceafed
to be f0, nce they have been men of principle.
There are prejudices that are dangerous, and others
that are ufeful. In your time, it was doubtlefs pro-
per to bridie that feducing and dangerous difpo tion,
that led youth to a profe ion, of which licentioufnefs
was the ba s. But all is changed; wife regulations,
by making the players forget themfelves, has enabled
them to recover the path to honour-, they are enp
tered into the clafs of citizens. But lately our pre-
IaIe befought the king t6 give the embroidered hat
to a comedian by whom he had been remarkably
affeéted. How' does your good preiate go to the
playP Why not, nce the theatre15 become the
{ch00} 0f manne1s, of vi1tuc, and fentiment.> They
vm:2, that the father of t}1e Chri ians amufed him-
feif highly, in the temple of God, with lifiening to
the equivocal voices ofmulilated wretc
hes; we never
hear {ucb deplorable accents; they mutt a iié t at once
the ear and the heart. How was it po ible for men
to li en to fuch c1uei mufi c.r ItIS Far more eligible,
I think, to fee the admirabie tragedy of Mahomet
perfo1med, where the heart of an ambitious villain
is laid bare, where the furies offanaticifm are {0 ener-
getically expre hd, as to make unin ruéted fouls that
have any difpo tion to it, tremble.
There
.2 THE THEATRE.
There goes the pa or of this 'quarter, who, as he
returns, is re'afoning with his children on the tragedy
of Calas. ,He enlightensv their under anding and
their tafte ; 'he abhors fanaticifm ; and when he thinks
on that foul rage, which like an epidemic di emper,
defolated one half of Europe for twelve centuries, he
thanks heaven for having arrived {0 late in the world.
At certain times of the year, we enjoy a pleafure,
which to you 'was abfoluteiy unknown ; we have re-
vived the pantomime art, {0 plea ng to the ancients.
How manyorgans has nature given to man! and
how many refources has that intelligent being to
exprefs the almoft in nite number of his fenfations!
A11 is countenance with there eloquent men; they
talk as clearly to us with their ngers as you can
with your tongue.- Hippocrates formeriy faid, that
the puife difcovered a ruling Deity. Our expert
pantomimes {hew what magni cence Providence has
uf ed in forming the human head. O,Ihavenothing
to fay; all is perfeétlon ! How is that? Much
yet remains to be done ere We attain_perfe6tion. \Ve
are freed from that barbarifm in which you was
plunged; fume heads were {uon enlightened; but
the nation in general was inconfequent and pueriie;
it is by degrees thatlminds are formed; more remains
to be done than We have yet accompliihed we are
fcarce yet half-way up the ladder; patience and re g-
naticin produce all things; but much I fear, that
a'ufolute good is not of this world. It is, however,
by confiantly purfuing it, I imagine, that we are'en-
abled to render matters, at leaft, tolerable.
CHAP.
[153]
C H A P. XXVI.
THE LAJWPS .
WE came out ofthe theatre without trouble
or confu on; the pa 'ages were numerous arid con-
\venient. I beheld the {treets perfeé y light; the
lamps were placed again : the walls ; and their
united luftre left no fhade; nor did they caft a re-
verberated glare that was dangerous to the ght ;'
the Opticians did not promote the interef t of the ocu-
li s. 'I {aw not at any corner thofe pro itutes, who,
with their feet in the kennel, their painted faces,
and looks as bold as their ge ures, invited the pa 'en-
ger in a brutal (tile, to an entertainment as in pid
as grofs. A11 thofe places ofdebauchery, where men
went to degrade their nature, and to make themfelves
contemptible in their own eyes, were no longer tole-
rated; for every vicious inftitution has its fellow;
they are all conneéted; unhappily for man, there is
no truth better proved than this that is {'0 fatai*.
I obferved
* It is a great misfortune to any city to be peftered with
a number of pro itutes ; the youth exhau their rength,
or perifh in a bafe or criminal debauchery ; or when totally
enervated, they marry, and fu -"er their young deluded
wives to languifh by their (ides; as Colardeau fays. They
refemble thofe mournful lights that burn by the dead, but
are unable to warm their afhes.
Semélable: a rex ambeaux, 22 re: lugubre: fezm,
ngz' brulent pré: d2: mart, fan: ecbau er [cur cmdre.
I 54 THE LAMPS.
I obferved that there were guards who pi ef'erved
the public fecurity, and preyente d any one from dif-
turbing the hours of repofe. You there fee, {aid
my guide, the only fort of foldiers for which we
have any oeca on ; we have no devouring army to
maintain in time of peace. Thofe mnttif fs, which we
formerly nourifhed, that they might, when cemmand-
ed, y upon the. ttmnger, were well nigh devouring
the children ofthe houfe; but the torch ofwar, once
extinguifhed, will never more be telumined; the
fovereigns of the earth .have deigned to hear the
voice of philofophy *; conneé ted by the rongeft
bands,
Charles XII. was in the hands of a governor void of
ability ; he mounts the throne, at an age when we are full
of tentations, and thofe that make the rft impre ions ap-
pear immutable truths; every idea feems good, becanfe
we know not which to prefer. In this pernicious Rate of
ac'tivity and ignorance, he reads mtinttls Curtius ; he there
fees the charaéter of a conquering monarch pompw y de-
fcribed and propofed as a model, which he adopts; he no
longer nds any thing but war that ean make a prince il
luftrions ; he arms; he advances ; fome {Ltccefs con rms
himin his attering pallion; he lays wafte countries, de-
roys cities, ravages provinces and (lures, breaks down
thrones; he immortalizes his folly and his vanity. Sup-
pofe that he had been. taught in early youth, that a king
fhould aim at nothing but the peace and profperity of his
fubjeé'ts ; that his true glory conli s in their love; that a
peaceful heroifm, which fuppprts the laws and the arts, far
out-weighs a warlike heroifm ; {uppofe, in thort, that they
had given him jutt ideas of that tacit covenant which a peo-
ple nece 'arily make with their king; that they had point-
ed
THE LAMPS. 155
bands, by thofe of interel t, which they have difco-
vered after f0 many ages of error; reafon has taken
poiTeHibn of their minds; they have attentively con-
dered that duty which the health and tranquility
of their people impofes on them; they place their
glory in good government, preferring the pleafure
ofmaking a {mall number happy to the frantic am-
bition of ruling over countries defolated, or lled with
ulcerated hearts, to whom the power of a conquerdr
mutt for ever be odious. Thefe kings, by common
confent, have xed bounds to their dominions, and
fuch as nature itfelf feems to have alligned, in fepa-
rating them by feas, by fore s, or mountains; they
have learned that a kingdom of but fmall extent is
fufceptible of the belt form of government. The
_fages of each nation di ated the general treaty, and
it was con rmed by an unanimous voice ; that which
an age of iron, and dirt, and that which a man
without yirtue called the dream ofa pedant, has
been realized among the moft enlightened and dif-
cerning of mankind. Thofe ancient prejudices,
not lefs dangerous, that divided men on account of
their belief, are alfo abolifhed. We regard all men
as our friends and brethren. The Indian and the
Chinefe
ed out to him the conquerors blatted by the tears of their
cotemporaries, and by the hatred of po erity : his innate
love of glory would have been carried toward ufetul ob-
jefts ; he would have employed his abilities in polifhing his
people and e ablithing their happinefs; he would notzhave
ravaged Poland, but have governed Sweden. Thus, one falfe
idea, taking potfe ion of the mind of a monarch, carries
him away from his true inteiett, and is the caufe of mifery
to millions of people.
1.6 THE LAMPS.
D
Chinefe are our countrymen, when they once fet foot
on our land. We teach our children to regard all
mankind as compo ng one and the fame family,1 at'-
fembled under the eye of one common father. . '1 his
manner of thinking mutt be the bef c, becaufe it has
prevailed with inconceivable rapidity. Excellent
works, wrote by men of fublime genius, have ferved
as {0 many torches to illumine a thoufand others.
Men, by encrea ng their knowledge, have iearned to
love and e eem each other. The .Engllfh, as eur
nearei c neighbours, are become our inttmate allies;
two generous people no longer hate each other by
foolifhly efpou ng the private anlmo tzes of their
rulers. Our learning and arts unite us In a cemmu-
nication equally advantageous. The Enghfh, for
example, full of re eétion, have improved the French,
who abound in levity; and we Frenchmen have dxf-
pated furpri ngly the melancholy humour of the
Englifh; thus the mutual exchange has produced a
fruitful fource of conveniences, of pleafures, and of
new ideas, happily received and adopted. It is
printing* that, by enlightening mankind, has pro-
duced this grand revolution.
I fprung
" It has another excellence; it is thetormidable bridle'
to arbitrary power, by making public its lea ; encroach-
ments, by {uttering nothing to be concealed} and 181 eter-
nizing the vices and even the wea'knefs of kings. hne re-I
markable aft ofinjn ice is by this means echoedt roygh
all the nations of the earth, and routes every free and En
ble mind. The friend to virtue W111 cheri l this art; ut
the bad man mutt tremble, when he fees the prefs ready to
publifh his iniquities to all ages and all natlons.
THE FUNERAL. 157
I fprung with joy to embrace the man who told
me thefe gladfome tidings. O heaven! I cried with
tranfport, then mankind are at 12ft become worthy
of thy regard; they have difcovered that their
real rength is in their union. I {hall die content,
nce my eyes now behold what they have {0 ardent ly
de red. How fweet it is When we abandon life, to
be furrounded by happy mortals who meet each
other like brothers, who, after a long voyage, are
going to rejoin the author of their days!
H
H
C H A P. XXVII.
THE FUJVERAL.
I SAW a carriage covered with white cloth,
preceded by infh uments of mu c', and crowned with
triumphant palms. It was conduc ted by men clothed
in light blue, with laurels in their hands. What car-
riage is that? I faid. It is the chariot ofviétory,
they replied. They that have quitted this life;
that have triumphed over human miferies, thofe hap-
hold them as zcred; we bear their bodies with re-
fpeét to the place that is to be their eternal re dence.
We ling the hymn on the contempt of death. In-
Read'of thofe grim {culls that crowned your tombs,
you here will fee heads with a fmiling air; it is with
P that
1.58 T HE FUNERAL.
that afpeéi: we regard death. No oneweeps over the
infen ble allies. We weep for ourfclves; not for
them. We con antly adore the hand of Providence,
that has taken them from the world. As we mu :
fubmit'to the irrevocable law of nature, why fhould
we not freely embrace that peaceful Rate, which can-
not but improve our being *2
This corpfe is 'going to be reduced to afhes at three
"miles from the city; furnaces con antly burning
'for that purpofe, confume out mortal remains.
TWO dukes and a prince are enclofed in that chariot
with a common citizen. By death all are levelled ;
and we then ref tore that equality which nature has
obferved among her children. This wife cu om di-
minifhes, 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 proportion
to their virtue; the rel t, dignities, ri c hes, honours,
are all eEaced. The corruptible matter that com-
»pofed their bodies is not them; it goes to be mitt
with the afhes of their equals; we annex no other
idea to the perifhable carcafe.
We credit no pompous tombs, decorated with Falfe,
tumid, and puerile epitaphs 1 . Our kings, after their
deceafe,
* He that is in great fear of death, if he 'be not ofa con;
' itution remarkably timorous, is certainly a bad man.
'1" 0 death, I blefs thy power"! It is thou- that felle-{t the
tyrants-of the earth; that buidle cruelty a'nd ambition ;
tit
THE- FUNERAL. 159
deceafe, do not ll their {pacious palaces with an
imaginary terror; they are no moxe attered at their
death; than during their Vliy'es. When they leave the
earth, their icy hands do not fnatch from us a part
of our fub f tence; they die without involving a city
in ruin*.
To prevent all accidents, no dead body is removed
till the vi tor has xed on it the {cal 01 death. This
vi tor is a man of lmbwn ability, Who remarks, at
the fame time, the age, feat, and the difeafe of the
deceafed'; they print in the public apers the name
oft he phy cian by whom he was attended. I? in
the book of re e ion, that each man, as I have faid,
leaves at his death,--there be any thing truly great or
ufeful, they are feleéted and publifhed, land that is
the only funeral oration in ufe among us.
It
it is thou that laye in the duf t thofe thatthe world had
attered, and that treated mankind with contempt; they
fall, and we breathe. Without thee our miferies would be
eternal. 0, death! Who holde in awe the inexorable
and the triumphant, who pierce the guilty fouls with ter
ror; thou hope of the unfortunate,- at length extend thy
arm over the perfecutors pf my country. And you, de.
vouring infeéts, that people the fepulchres, our friends, our
avengers, come in crowds to receive the carcafes of thofe
that have fattened by their crimes.
" To that funeral pomp which o entatiou y conveys a
king to an obfcnre cavern, to thofe mounnful ceremonies,
to thofe numerous emblems of public grief, °.f univerfal-
mourning, what isi there-waming ? One ncere tear. '
P2
|
I
4
l
1 60 THE FUNERAL.
It is a {alutary belief received among us, that the i
*[pirit has.the liberty of frequenting thofe places that
were dear to it; that it delights in beholding thofe it
loved; that it hangs in lence over their heads, con-
templating the lively forrow oftfxiendfhip; that it
does not lofe that fymiiathy, that tendernefs which
formerly united it to fen ble hearts; that it nds a
pleafure in their prefence, and in protefting them
from thofe dangers that furround their tender frames.
Thefe benign manes correfpond to your guardian
angels. This opinion ('0 pleating and confolatory, in-
fpires us with a con dence, as well in undertaking a;
executing, that was unknown to you; who, far, from
enjoying thefe delightful conceptions, iled your ima-
ginations with gloomy and frightful chimeras.
You.can ea ly perceive with what a profound ve-
neration fuch an opiniori i'nfpires a young man, who
having lately lo : his father,believes that he is {till a
witnefs of his mo fecret aé'tions. He talks to him
in folitude; he becomes animated by that awful pre-
fence which enjoins him to virtuous aé tions; and if
he nds himfelf tempted to evil, he fays, My father
fees'me! My father hears me* E
The young-man dries up his tears, becaufe the her-
rible idea of inanity does not a iiét his foul; it feems
t0
3* An opinion like this {hould feem {uper uous to him
who knows, that the great Father of the univerfe is per-
petually prefent to all his aé'tions; but, alas, the human
mind feems incapable of retaining that great idea for any
long time together.
THE FUNERAL 1:61
to him that the iades of his ance ors oniy wait for
his coming that they may advance togethér torward
the eternal abode. And who can deny himfelf the
hopes of immortality! Were it even an illu on,
would it not be pleating and awful to us?
x
I think it will not be improptr to add bare ti)! llbmuing
ie t iam, a: Ibo; corrz iandrwitb the preceding (buffer, and
majfereve to explain it. Thor are in 1b: manner of Young,
though compgfed in French.
AN ECLIPSE OF THE MOON.
(It is a Solitary that fpeaks.)
I INHABIT a fmall country honfe, that contributes
not a little to my happincfs. It has two different.
profpeéts. One is extended over fertile plains, where
grows that precious grain that is the nooriihment of
man. The other, more con ned, prefents the 1213:
afylum of the human race; the term that bounds its
pride; 2. narrow fpace, where the hand of death lays
up, with equal care, its peaceful viétims.
The profpeét- of this cemetry far from produeing
gloomy ideas, the children of a vulgar terror, roufw
in-my mipd wife and ufeful r-e eé cions. There I no
longer hear the tumult of the town, which confounds
the mind. Attended by none but augu melancholy,
I am lled with important objeé ts. I look, with an
eye, ferene and immoveable, on that tomb wher e
man- eeps t0 rife again; when he- iall acknowledge
P 3. the
162 AN ECLIPSE OF THE MOON.
the muni ccnce of nature, and ju zify the eternal
Wifdom.
The pompous glare of day to me feems dull ; I
wait the dawn of night, and that fweet obfcurity,
which lending its charms tok lence, aids the {caring
of fublimel t thought. Then, while the bird of night
fending forth a mournful cry, beats thethick dark-
nefs with her heavy wing, I feize my lyre. All hail!
majeftic lhadcs! while from my eyes you hide the
tran ent fcenes of this low world, to nobler ghts
exalt my foul; let me behold that radiant throne,
where ts refplendent Truth!
My ear purfues the folitary bird; foon {he fettles
on the fcattered bones ; and with her beating wing
rolls, with a hollow found, that fcull where latell;7
dwelt ambition, pride, and projeéts bold and vain.
Then to fome cold '[tone {he ies, where o entation
graved thofe names that time hath quite e 'aced;
and then to poverty s fair hillock, crowned with
owers.
Dull. of proud man! that never more {hall fee this
earth, to empty titles dareft thou {till pretend? O
miferablc pride in death s domain! See, where the
cof n! with its threefold des, forbids the moulder-
ingh ncs to mingle with their kindred duft.
Approach, proud mortal! to yonder tombs direé t
thy ght. Say, what imports a name to that which
knows no name! A falfe epitaph expofes to the day
that
AN ECLIPSE OF THE MOON. 163
that wretched praife,.which' were far better in on-
hvwn s'fhade concealed; even as the gaudy rcamer
for a moment oats, and then the veffel follows, by
the waves devoured.
0! far more happy he, that not vain pyramids
hath built, but in the path of honour and of virtue
con ant trod. He joyful looks to heaven; and when
this fragile frame diffolves, where fwaims of pains
di raét the immortal foul, he gladly' meets that
roke, which lls the rmer with difmay. By oft rc-
eéting on the bright example of the expiring ju ,
We alfo learn to die.
He dies, the jult man dies: he fees fhofe tears that
not for him, but for ourfelves we fhed. His brethren
furrouhd the mourhful bed : Of thofe delightful
truths they talk, with which his foul was lled, and
of. that Power Divine to him revealed fo clear. The
immortal curtain fecmed to rife before .his dying
ght. . . . . He raifed his radiant heacl, {tretched forth
his friendly hand», he fmilcd, and then expired.
But thou, vile nncr! thou who in fuccefsful vil-
lainy halt lived, far different thy end [hall be, thou
horrid tyrant! Then agonizing, pale, to thee (hall
death prefent a dreadful afpeét; of his bitter cup
{halt thou drink deep, drink in all its horrors. Thou
canft not lift-thy eyes to heaven,nor x them on the
earth; for well thou knowell: that both renounce,
that both rejeét thee. Expire in terrors, that thou
maye no longer live in hatred!
That
"
mmz
iLJ
IIH
V
:64 AN ECLIPSE OF THE MOON.
That moment dire, Which turns the rmer pale;
the good man placid views; to nature s xed decrees
he tranquil yields; thefe tombs regards as ve 'els
formed to purge, by re, the purer gold from every
drofs; the mortal frame di olves, and to the bhfsful
regions ies the foul re ned. Then why regard with
dread thofecold remains that once con ned the Ioul?
They rather fhould remind us of its httppy flightT
The antique temple fomewhat of its priftme maje y
preferves, even when in ruins hurIed.
Penetrated with a facred refpeét for the ruins of
humanity, I defcended to that earth rewed with
the holy afhes of my bx ethren. The calm, the lence,
the cold immohility, all {aid to me, The} ee}. 1
advanced, Iavoided treading upon the grave of a
friend but ju-Pt lled up ; I recol'leéted myfelf, that I
might revere his memory; I (topped; I h ened at-
tentively, as wilh-ing to catch fome of thofe .found-s
which might chance to efcape from that Cele [hal har-
mony he now enjoys in the heavens. The planet of
the night, in her full lu re, poured her hlver beams
upon the mouthful fcene. I lifted my eyes toward
the rmament of heaven. They roll, thofe worlds
innumerable, thofe aming funs f0 profufely fpread
through all the ethereal fpace. Then agein my ght
was xed on that lent grave, where perifh the eyes,
the tongue, the heart of him with whom I had con-
verfed on thcfe {ublime wonders, and who extolled
the Author Of thefe tranfcendent miracles;
Suddenly there came on an eclipfe of the moon,
which I had not forefeen. I was not even fen blef
o
AN ECLIPSE OF THE MOON. 165
of it till the darknefs began to furround me. I could
then difcem a fmall fhining fpace onlythat the fhadow.
ha ened to cover: A profound darknefs {topped
my [teps ; I could no longer difcover any objeé t; I
loft the path; I turned a hundred times; the gate
feemed to fhun me; the clouds gathered; the wihds
whittled ; I heard a di ant thunder; it arrived with
uproar on the wings of the lightening; my mind
was confounded; I fhivered ; ] {tumbled over the.
fcattered bones ; terror precipitated my Reps; I came
to a tombjult opened to receive the dead; I fell in;
the grave received me living; I found inyfelfburied,
in the humid- entrails of the earth; I feemed to hear
the voice of all the Head that hailed my arrival; an
icy trembling feized me; a cold fweat came over me;
I funk into a. lethargic umbcr.
(VWh y did I not die ixt that peaceful hate? I was
already entqmbed; the curtain that conceals eternity
was drawn up. I do. not regard this life with
horror; I know how to enjoy it: I endeavour t6
render it ufeful; but all cries out from the bottom
of my heart, that the future life is preferable to the
prefent.
I recovered, however, my fenfations. A faint
light began to brighten the Harry vault; fome {cat-
tering rays pierced through the clouds; by degrees
theybecame more bright; they difperfed, and I per-
ceived the moon half difengaged from the mdow;
at length it {home with all its former lu re; that
folitary planet purfued its courfe. My fpirits returnw
ed,
w
t
iI
1566 AN .ECLIPLE OF THE MOON.
ed, and I {prung from the grave. The frefhnéfs of
the air, the fercnity of the {ky, the blufhin-g rays of
the morning, all re-zmimated me, and di ipated
dlofevterrors that -night had PTOdL'I Ccau
I then regarded- with a fm e, the grave that had
received me into its bofom. What was there fright-
ul in it? It was the earth from whence I fpmng,
and that demanded, after a time, the portion of
clay it-had lent met I then {aw none of thofe phan-
toms that the d'arknefs had impre 'ed on mycredu-
,kms imagination." It is that, that alone, which pro-
duces inaufpicious images. I expeétcd, in this ac-
cident, to have known what was death. I fell into
the grave with the terror of that which is,.\perhaps
the {Ole fupport again ~ t11e troubles of this life; But
there I only experienced a gentle and, in fome degree,
even a pleating um'ber. If this fcene was terrible,
it la ed but a moment; it fcarce exifted for me. \I
awaked to the brightnefs of a ferene and plea ng
day. I have banifhed a childifh terror, and joy has
taken poge 'lon of my whole heart. ,So after that
tran ent eep, which men call death, weffhall awake
to behold the fplendor of that eternal fun, that by
elucidating the immenfe fy em 0f beings, {hall dif-
cover to ustihe folly of our :timorous prejudices, and
an inexhau ible and unknown fource of felicity,
whofe courfe nothing can ever interrupt.
Therefore, morta1,that thou maye dread nothing,
he virtuous ! Whil thou paife ; through the (hurt
path of life, put thy heart in a condition to fay to
thee,
THE KING?s 'Ll BRARY. 1.67
Glee, Fear nothing; advance under the? eye of a
God, that .is the univerfal father of mankind; in-
" Read, of regarding him with terror, adore hiis
bounty, and rely on his clemency; have the con -
" dence of a fan that loves, and not the terror of a.
1 Have; that trembles, becaufe he is guilty.
I
I
I
I
C H A P. XXVIII.
'1'st KING S LIBRARr.
AN unlucky door, placed near to mypiflow,
by creaking on its hinges, totaHy difcomerted: thy
ideas. I 10ft ght ofmy guide, and of the city;' but
as the mind is continually agitated by the fcene that.
has once made a rong impre ion, I happily rétunm-
ed to my dream. I was now quite alone; it was
broad day; and by a natural pr'open t'y'I found
myfelf in the king s library; but more than oncé
was I under the ncce ity of af xing m'yfe'lf that it
was f0.
In the room of t'hoIe four galleries of an immenfe
length, and which contained many thoufands of
volumes, I" could only nd one ffna clofet, in which
were feveral books that feemed to me far from V&-
luminous. Surprifed at fo great a change, I ventured
to a : if fome fatal con agration had. not devoured
that rich colleétion.- Yes, they replied, It tvas
{ a
[68 THE KING S LIBRARY.
1 a con agtation; but by our bands was it de gn-
. 4 edly illumined. Perhaps I have forgot to tell
you, that thefe are the molt affable people in the
world; that they ew a very particular regard for
.age ; and that they do not reply to enquiries, in the
manner of the French, by anfwering with 3 queftion.
The Librarian Who was a man of real learning,
prefented himfelfto me ; and well con derin'g all the
objeé tions, as well as reproaches that I made, he gave
me the following account. Convinced, by the
molt [triét obfervation that the mind is embaraffed
by a thoufand extrin c dif culties, we were fen ble
that a numerous library was the feat of the greate :
extravagancies and the molt idle chimeras. In your
time, to the difgrace of reafon, men rft wrote and
then thought. We follow the oppo te ceurfe; and
:have therefore def tmyed all thofe authors who buried
their thoughts under a mon rous heap of words or
phrafes
Nothing leads the mind farther a ray than bad
books; 'for the r notions being adopted without
attention, the fecond become precipitate conclu ons ;
and men thus go on from prejudice to prejudice, and
from error to error._ \Vhat remained for us to do,
but to rebuild the ruéture of human knowledge?
This projeét appeared-ofin nite labour ; but, in faé t,
we found it only. necefTary to delkoy thofe ufelefs
fabrics that hid from us the true point of view; as
the Louvre became a new building by {weeping away
the ruins that furrounded it. The fciences, amidft
this labyrinth of books, were in a perpetual circula-
tion,
.4.
THE KING S LlBRARY. 159
tion, returning ince antly to the fame point; and
the exaggerated idea of their riches ferved-only to
conceal their real indigence.
In faé r, what did that multitude ofvolumes con-
tain? For the mo lpart, nothing mbre than perpe-
tua. repetitions of the fame thing. Philofophy
prefented itfelf to us under the image ofa (tattle,
always celebrated, always copied, but never embel.
lifhed; it appeared Ftill more perfeét in the original.
It feemed to degenerate in all the copies of lver
and gold that have nce been made ofit: doubtlefs,
it was more beautiful when~carved in wood by a
hand almolt favage, than when covered with extrin c
ornaments. Since men, from a wretched indolence,
have given themfelves up to the opinion of others,
they have nece hrily become more fetvile imitators,
(leftitxite of invention and originality. What im.
zhenfe projeéls, what fublime fpéculntions, 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 multitude,
while it has {\vallowed up thofe rong and bold
thoughts, \ chich were too mple to pleafe the
vulgar.
As our days are (hart, and ought not to be con-
fumed in a puerile hhilofophy, we have given, a de-
ci ve ftroke to the m'iferable controver cs of the.
fchools. What have ydu done? Proceed if you
plenfe. By an unanimous content, We brought
together, on a vail plain, all thofe books which we
, (L judged
170 THE KING S LIBRARY.
judged either frivolous, ufelefs, or dangerous; of
thefe we formed a pyramid, that refembled, in height
and bulk, an enormous tower; it was certainly an-
.other Babel. Journals crowned this Grange edi ce;
and it was covered, on all des, with ordinances of
bithops, remon ranees of parliaments, petitions, and
funeral orations ; it was eompofed of ve or x hun-
dred ithoufand commentators, of eight hundred
T'thoufand volumes of law, of fty thoufand diétior-
n'aries, of ahundred thouf'and poems, of xteen hun-
dred thoufand voyages and travels, and of a millard*
of romances. This tremendous mafs was fat on re,
and o ered as an ekpiatory facri ec to veracity, to
good fenfe, and true tafte. The ames greedily de-
Nonred the follies of mankind, as Well ancient as
modern ; the re continued long. Some authors
{aw themfelees burning alive; their cries, however,
could not extinguifh the ames. We found notwith~_
(landing, amid the embers, fome page of the works
of P , of De la H , of the abbé A ; for
they were f0 extremely frigid,"that7the re could
hzwe no e 'eéhon them.
We have therefore done from an enlightened
zeal; what the bazbarians once did from one that
was blind: however, as We are neither unju , nor
lilze the Saracens, who heated their baths with the
chief d oeuvres of literature, we have made an elec-
tion; thofe of the greatei t judgment among us
have extraéted the fuchance of thoufands of volumes,
which
* A thou md millions.
THE KING S LIBRARY. 17!
which they have included in afmall duodecimo; ,not
unlike thofe {killful chemi s, who concentre the vir-
tues of many plants in a nal! phial, and call a de
the refufe*.
We have ahridged what feemed of mollritn-
portance; the hell have been reprinted; and the
whole corre ed according to the true principles nf
morality. Our compo fers are a {ct of men eftima-
ble and dear to the nation; to knowledge they have
added'ta e; and as they are capable of producing,
they have made a judicious feleétionf We have re-,
marked, to {peak juttly, that it appertaius to the ages
of philofophy only, to produce'a {mall number of
Works. In yours, when real knowledge was not
fufhcientlyeflablifhed, it was neceffary to bring toge-
ther a great number of materials. The labourer-
niu work before the architet t.
(I At
* On this globe, all is revolution : the minds of men
vary,to an in nity he national cliaraéler, alter books, arid
make them no longer to be known. Is there anyoneauthof,
if he re céts, that can reafonably indulge himfelf in the
hope of not being defpited by the next generation ? Do we
not deride our ancettors? Can we fay what progrefs our
children may make 3 Have we any idea of the fecrets that
may {uddenly fpring from out of the bofom of nature P Do
we completely know the extent of the human under and-
ing? Where is the work that is founded on a real know-
ledge of the human heart, on the nature of things, on right
reafon ? Does not our phy cs prefent us an ocean with
whofe eoa s we are yet {carce acquainted? How ridicu-
lous, therefore, is that pride, which ignot'antly pretends ta
prefcribe the bounds ofany art.
(La
172 THE KING S LIBRARY.
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 method the fma left
details are obferverd; nothing can efcape. It was
neceffary for you to make an innumerable quantity
of books; it is our bu nefs to cohee't the fcattered
parts The ignorant babble etemally; the learned
and fagacious {peak little, but Well.
, This clofet, that you fee, contains thofe books
that have efcaped the ames. Their number is fmali;
hut by their merit they have obtained the approba-
tion of our age.
I approached with curio ty: and on examining
the r divi on, I found that of the Greeks, they
had- preferved- Homer, Sophocles, Euripides, De-
mofthenes, Plato, and particularly oui friend Plu-
turch; but they had burned Herodotus, Sappho,
Anacrcon, and the vile Ari ophanes. I would have
(iefend'ed in {ome, degree the caufe of Anacreon ; but
I Was anfwered by the heft reafons in the world,
though {uch as Ifhall not here mention, becaufe they
wbuld not be intelligible to the prefent age.
In the fccond divi on appropriated to the Latin
authors, Ifound Virgil, Pliny, and Titus Livy*
entire; but they had burned Lucretius, except fome
poetic pa hges, becaufe his phy cs they found fali e,
* I have lately read this hi orian again; and I am con-
vinced, thét the virtue of the Romans confi ed infacri cing
the human race on the altar oftheir country. As citizen s,
they are to be applauded 5 as men, to be abhorred. d
' an
THE KING S LIBRARY. 173
and his morals dangerous. They had de royed
the tedious pleadings of Cicero, an able rhetor.
rather than a man of eloquence; but they had pre-
ferved his philofophic works, one of the mo precious
produ ions of antiquity. Sullu alfo remained.
Ovid and Horace* were purged; the odes of the
latter appeared far inferior to his Epi les. Seneca}
was reduced to one fourth part. Tacitus was pre-
ferved; but, as his writings breath a dark vapour
that Blackens the human race, and as we ought not
to nour-iih a bafe idea ofmankind, for tyrants are not
of their number, the reading of this profound au-
thor was permitted to thofe only whofe hearts were
well formed. Catullus and Petroninshad vanifhed
in fmoke. Qgintilian was reduced to a volume of
the fmallci t ze.
The third divi on contained the Engiifh authors,
and here I found the greate number of volumes,
Here I {aw all thofe philofephers that warhke, com-
merciant, and politic i e hath produced; Milton,
Shakefpcaie, Pope, Youngf, and Richardfon, here
{tut
* This writer had all the delicacy, all the owers of wit,
every potiible mbanity; he has, neverthelefs, been too
much admired in every a Ye. His mufe infpires a volup-
tuous repofe, a lethargic umber, a pliant and dangerous
indifference; it therefore, mutt pleufe the Con ict and
e 'eminate mind, t iofe whole morality is con ned to the
prefent moment, and to the enjoyment of {oft and folitary
pleafures.
1* M. Tourneur had publ'ifhed a tran a-tion ofthis poet,-
hich has had the greate and mo determined ucefs. Eve-
(1.3 W
[74 THE KING'S LIBRARY.
ill enjoyed their full renown ; their creative genius
knew no refiruint, wnile we are obliged to meal'ure
all our words; the fruitful enetgy of thofe free fouls
was
ry one has read this moral work ; (the author mu [Jere allude
to the Night ougbt',) every one admites that fublime lan-
g-uage, which elevates, cheers, and captivates the foul;
becaule it is founded on g: :ztt truths, pt'efettts great objeé'ts
only, and derives all its dignity from their. real grandeur.
For my own part, I have never read any thing (a original,
f0 new, no_r even fo intere incr. I admire that profound,
Ientiment, which, though always the fame, yet has an in-
nity ofconnexions and ditier ties; it is a ream by which
I am borne down; I am pleafed with thol'e {trong and
lively images whole boldnefs correl'yond with the fubjefl:
to Which they are applied. We there fee, moreover, the
molt demoultrative proofs of the immortality of the foul ;
in no part is the mintl'fo much {truck as in this; the poet
attacks the heart, {uhdues it, and deprives it ofall power
of contradiction ; fuch is the magic of exprethou, the force
of eloquence, that it leaves a poignant fenfation in the
mind.
Young is in the right,- in my judgment, (though in the
tran utor s note, cenfure has cxtorted a different opinion)
when he allerts, that, without the profpeét of eternity and
future rewards, virtue would be but a mine, a chimera :
u! evirtm Izamen inane 2/1, am dew: ct pratium re ej'm l
expn itn; ruir. \Nhat is that good from which there t elitlts
no good, either'in this world or in the o'her ? What good
rclults, in this world, from vii tue to fufl'ering innocence t
Afk of a dying Brutus, a Cato, a Socrates. You there fee
oicifm at its lafl proof, and there it fairly difcovers the
vanity ofthe re t. I remember, and ever {hall remember,
a iiking extrcllion of J. J. Roulfcati to a Friend of mine.
He was {peaking ofa propo tion made to him of makilng
123
THE KING S LIBRARY. 175-
was the admiration of a dif cult: age. That futile
reproach we make them, of their want of ta e, was
difregat ded by men, who, charmed with ju and
llrong ideas, could read with alliduity, and knew
how
his fortune bya means that was dirgraceful, blttof a nature
to be kept eeret. Sir, he faid, thank God, I amnot
a materialitt; if I were, I {hould n ot be worth more thim
all of them are. I know of no reward, but that which is
attached to virtue.
Ifreelyconfefs, thatl am not more worthy than Rottlfcati;
and would to God, that I were as worthy! but,ifl thought
myfelf altogether mortal, I would inflantly become my own
deity; I would make all things fubfervient to my divinity,
that is, to myfelf: I would praélife what they call virtue,
hen it promoted my pleafure; and, in like manner, vice.
I would rob to day, to give to my friend or miltrefs; quar-
rel with, and rob them to marrow, to gratify fome tri ing
plen ue; and in all :hisl tould aét very confequentially,
becaufe l {hould always do that hich is agreeable to my
divinity; whereas, byloving virtue for the fake ofa reward,
and that reward not being attached to arbitrary aé'tions, I
I am obliged to govern myfelf, not by momentary inclina-
tion, but l:y that invariable rule which the Eternal Legif-
lutor and Remuneruéor has prcfcribed. It will therefore
I lt'equentlyltappen, that I mull do what I ought, though not
what I plcafe; and, if my liberty decides for that which is
right, in oppolitiou to a contrary inclination, then I do that
which I would, not that with which I am pleufed. Ifit had
been the will of God to dire u_s by alove for goodnefs only,
he would have given us a rational mind, without having
added the fen bility ol' the heart; but he guides us by the
prolpeft of rewards, becaufe he has made us liable to paf-
lions and aff eétions.
_,._
1176 THE KING S L1BRARY.
how t9 meditate on What they had read. They'hady
howaver, cut off from the philofophers thofe dan-
gerous fceptics who would have fhaken the founda-
tions of morality; that virtuous people, influenced
by What they felt, difdained fuch vain fubtiiities;
for no argument could convince them that virtue
was a chimera.
In the fourth divi on were the Italian EuthUtao
The Je1u 1lem Delivered, that moft beautiful of all
poems, Was at the head of them. They had, how-
ever, bu1ned a Whole libraiy of critiCifms again that
enchanting poem. The celelnated T1eatife on Crimes
and Puniihment
5 had received all the pe1feétio11 of
vhich that impo1tant \101k was fufceptil1ie.I was
agreeably furprifed to fee a number o(judicious and
philofophic wmks, which 111d amfe {10111 out the
bofom of that nation. They had broke that talifman
which {earned to promife '11 perpetuity of ignorance
and fuperftition among them.
At lait, I came to the French writers. I hni tily-
feized the Brit three volumes; they were Defcartes,
Montaigne, 21nd Charron.Mo11taigne had fuffered
fame retxenchment; but as he is the philofopher,
who ofall others was the be& acquainted with human
nature, his writings were preferved, though all his
ideas are not abfolutely irreproachabla The vi-
onary Mallelnanche, the gloomy Nicole, the un-
pitying Arnauld, and the mud Bourduloue, they»
had burned. All that ielated to feholaftic di1putes
was [0 completely de ioyed, that when I {poke of
the
THE KING S LIBRARY. 177
the Provengial Letters and the ide rue tion of the
chuits, the h.armed librarian made a very great ana-
chronifm, ofwhich I info1med him, and received a.
candid acknowledgment. I could never meet. with
thofe Proven-giai Letters, nor the molt modern hi fiory-
of that grand affair ; they talked of the jefitits, attire~
at this day do of the Druids.
Into an oblivion, from whence they [hould- never.
come forth, were caft that crowd of thelogians called.
fathers of the church, writers, the mail: fophiftic;
the mail whim cal, obfcure, and irrational, that
were ever diametrically oppofed to Locke or Clerke.
They feem, {aid the libiarian, to have let
bounds to human infanity.
I {earch ed for, I examined the authors of my 31::
q uaintance. Heavens! what de ruaion ! what.
mighty works evaporated in fmoke !. Where is that-
famous Bou ht, who, in my time, gured in fourteen
quarto volumes? I was anfwered, They are all
v211ifhed. W'hat ! . that eagle who {cared to the
highef c regions of the air, that genius What,
in confcience could we preferve? That he had genius
we allow"; but to a wretched ufe did he apply it.
We
* What benefit might not human reafon have received
from fuel] men as Luther, Calvin, 'Mela'néton, Erafmus,.
Bouilet, Pafchal, Arnauld, Nicole, &c. if they had em-
ployed their genius in attacking the errors of the human,
mind, in improving mnrality, legi ation and phy cs, in ead
of oppo ng or eflablifhing ridiculous dogmas !
173 THE KING'S LIBRARY.
We have adopted-the mixxim 9f >Montaiigne : Let m
not inquire wbo is the mq/l learned, but who i.r t/Je be]!
learned. The univerfal hiitory of that Bou 'et was
nothing 'more than a miferahle {keleton of chrono-
logy". It had hefide, :1 mm fo affeéted, and there
were fo many re e ions of immoderate length, that
accompanied that meagre produ ion, that we can
fcarce think it was read furl more than half a cen-
tury. 'But', at lea , his Funeral Orétions We
are highly'incenfed againf c them; they breathe the
m ikrable language offervitude and adulation. Shall
:1 mini er of the God of peace, of the God of ttuth;
mount the pulpit to extol a gloomy politician, an
avaricious 'l cutefman, a mean woman, ablood-thir y
herb; and agitated like a poet with the defeription
of a battle, never utter one gh when thinking on
that horrid fcourge thilt defolates the earth. Atthat
moment, he has no thought of maintaining'the laWS
of humanity, of declaring to an ambitious monarch,
by the facred voice of religion, firrong and terrible
truths; he rather wiihés to hear it faid, 7714: mm
MM: rival]; 1:: make: the emomium: qft/oc (lead, w/Jilt tl eir
( l/ZR J'
* To give an air oftruth to chronology, they have forrn-
ed certain epochs; and on this delu ve foundation they
have erefted that imaginary fcience, which has been en-
tirely direéted by caprice. They know not to what period
they {hould refer the principal revolutions of the world, and_
yet they would x the age in which each king reigned,
I he greateft errors relt {ecurc by means of chronological
calculations. They fet out, for example, from the foun
dation of Rome ; and that foundation is fupported by pro.
babilities, or rather fuppo zions.
THE KING'S L lBRARYJ [79
4/173; are yet warm. rWitb mud; [letter reafan wau/d
I}: give a good (10/9 qf incm e to monarch t/Jatrare i/l
liming.
We are no friends to Bouffet; for he was not
only a man proud and obdurate, a courtier fawning
and ambitiogs, but to him alfo we owe thofe funeral
orations, which have nce multiplied like funeial
torches, and which, like them, exhale a noxious
vapour as they pafs. This fpecies of atteryiapp
pears to us the moit odious, futile, and d_angerous of
all others; for it is at once falfe, upid, an d {haute-
lefs, and conilantly contradiéts the public. voice,
which echoes again : thofe walls where the orator,
whilfl pompou y declaiming, inwardly laughs at
thofe falfe colohrs with which he has dre 'ed out his
idol.
Behold his rival, his gentle and mode con-
queror, the amiable, the pathetic Fenelon. His
Telemachns and other'woxgks we have carefully pre-
ferved, becaufe in them we nd a rare and happy
agreement between reafon and fen bility". To have
cempofed
The French academy have propofed his eulogy as the
next prize for eloquence; but if the work be what it ought
to be, the academy cannot crown the difcourfe. Why
give {txbjeéts that ennnot be treated in their full extent?
I admire, however, this {pecies of writing, where, by in-»
ve igating the genius of a great man, the art ilfelf is in-
ve igated and exempli ed. We have had excellent works
of this kind, and cfy-ecially thofe of M. Thomas, which is
the
1 89 THE KING S LIBRARY.
'compofed the Telemachus at the coutt of Lewis
XIV..appears to .us an admirable, a(ténifhing'virtue.
Certainly that monarch did not"comprehend the
book: and that is the mot}: favourable fuppo tion we
can makefor his honour.. Doubtlefs, that work re;
quired a more exten ve knowledge, a more profound
penetration; but, with all its mplicity, what force,
what truth, what dignity is there difpiayed! We
have placed next to his, the works of the good abbé
St. Pierre, whore pen was weak, but his heart {ub-
lime. Seven ages have given to«his great and heath
tiful ideas a jutt maturity. His ootemporaries re-
garded him as a v_i onary: his dreams, however, have
become realities.
Among the Frenchpoets, I found Corneilie, Ra-
cine, and Moliere; but their commentators were
burned". I afked a que ion of the librarian, that
will probably be afked {even centuries hence. To
Which
the moft in ruétive book we can ptit into the hands of a
young man, and from which he may draw at once ufeful
knowledge and a rational love for glory.
* They are the works of envy or ignorance. There cem-
mentators, with their zeal for the laws of gi ammar, excite
my pity. Ihe wor de iny that can atténd any manof
genius, either living 01' dead, is to be judged by pedantifm,
which fees nothing, and feels nothing. Thefe wretched
critics, who creep from word to word, refemble thofe pur-
blind mortals, Who miferably pore over every {iroke ofa pic -
ture of Le Setxer or Pou in, in eud of embracing the whole
at one view.
.
~
THE KING S LiBRARY. [8;
which of the three do you give the preference ?_
if We under and but iittle of Moliere, he replied;
- the manners that he painted are pail; he feems to
us to have attacked~ridicuie more than vice, and you
had more vicious than ridiculous qualities*. For
the two tragedians, whofe colours are more durable,
I know not how a man of your age can all; the quel}
tion.._ He who excelled all others in painting the]
human heart, who elevated and enlarged the' mind.
to the greate degree; he who was the be : ac.
quainted with the Ihocks of pa ion and the depths
of pelicyr, had doubtlefs more genius than his har-
monious rival-f, who, with a (tyle more correét and
owing, had lefsof force and conci on, who had not:
the piercing view, nor the elevation, nor the re,
nor the argument, nor the amazing diver ty of cha-
raéters,-of the'other. Add to this the moral aim,
con antly marked in Corneille, and which drove
mankind towards the element 'of every virtue, to-
wards
" It is not true, as advanced in the eulOgy on Moliere,
that the cure (if the ridiculous is more eafy than that of the
vicious. But, if it were, to which difor'der of the human
heart (hotlid we rfi apply remedies? Shall the poet become
an accomplice in the general perver ty, and be the rft to
adopt thofe miferabie compaéts, which bad men make the
better to difguife their villainy? Unhappy is he who does-
not fee the full effect that an excellent drama can produce,
who is ignorant of the fublimity of that fcience which can
unite all hearts in one.
+ Corneille has frequently an original air of freedom and,
mplicity,and even {omething more natural than Racine.
R
:82 THE KlNG s LIBRARY.
wards liberty. Racine, after effeminating his heroes;
e eminated' the fpeé tators*. Tafte is the art of ele-
vating lowfubjeéts; and in this Corneille was infe
i'io'r t0 Racine. - Time, that fnvereign judge, Who
equally det croys both eulogies and cenfures, time has
declared; and has placed a wide di ance between
them; the one is a genius of the rft order; the other,
fome few pallages borrowed from the Greek ex-
cepted, is nothing mote than a ne writer, as was
obferved in his own age. In your time, men had no
longer the fame energy; they required nifhed works,-
and the great has ever a certain roughnefs attending
it; {1;er was then become the principal merit,- as is
con antly the cafe with thofe nations that are enfeei
bled and corrupted.
I'here found the terrible Cr'ebillon,who has painted
crimes in all thofe frightful colours by which they
are charaéte rifed. This people fometimes read his
Works, but never fu 'er them to be aéted.
It is eafy to besimagined, that I recolleé ted my
friend Fontaine, equally beloved and con antly
read.
* Racine and Boileau were tw o da ardly tcourtiers, who
approached their monarch with the awe of two trade neti
of the Rue St. Dennis. It was not {0 that Horace fre
qnented Augutlus. - Nothing can be more mean than the
letters of thefe two poets, in raptures to nd tlietillel\'es at
the court. It is dif cult to conceive of more miferuble pro-
dué tions. Racine at latt died of chagrin, becaufe Louis
XIV. caf t a contemptuous look at him in the public walks;
I
THE KING S LIBRARY. 133*
1-e-ad*. Moliere, that jult judge of merit, prefented
this xft of moral poets with immortality. ' Fable, it
is true, is the allegorical language of 2. Have, wht)
dares not talk to his ma er;' but at the fame time,
as it moderates that feverity which there may be. in
truth, it mu ; con antly be highly valuable in a
world expofed to all forts of tyrants. Satire is, per.
haps, the weapon of defpair alo'net
How far has this age placed that inimitable fabuii ;
--above Boileauf, who, (as the a'bbé Co ard fays)
made himfelf the diélator of Parna 'us, and who,
.void of invention, force, grace, and fentiment, was
nothing more than at tame and fcrupulous ver er.
They had preferved feveral other fables, among
which were fome by La Motte, and thofe of Ni.
vernoisi.
The
" Fontaine was lhe con dant of nature, and merited, by
pre-eminence, the'title of poet. I am {urprifed at the au-
dacity of thofe who have nce wrote fables with the pre-
fumption of imitating him.
1- The critic who only endeavours to depreciate an au~
thor, in ead of explaining him, difcovets his own vanity,
ignorance, and jealoufy- His malignity will not let him
clearly difcern the good and bad parts ofa book. Critici ri
belongs to them only whore judgment and candour are not,
in any degree, infe ed by perfonal intere . Critic, know
thyfelf; and ifthou wouldft form a right judgment of any
work, remember, that depending on thy own lights only,
thou 'cunfljudge of nothing.
1 Seven hundred'years hence, it will not be remem-
bered, perhaps, that this Charming fabulift was a duke, and
R 2 wore
l
:82 THE KING S LIBRARY.
wards liberty. Racine, after el-Feminating his: heroe s;
e eminated the fpeétators*. Taite is the art of ele:
vating low-fubjeéts; and in this Corneille was infe-
i'io'r to Racine. , Time, that fovereign judge, who
equally de mys both eulogies and cenfures, time has
declared; and has placed a wide di ance between
them; the one is a geniiis of the rf t order; the other,
fome few paffages borrowed from the Greek ex-
cepted, is nothing moire than a ne writer, as was
obferved in his own age. In your time, men had no
longer the fame energy; thEy required nifhed works,-
and the great has ever a certain roughnefs attending
it; ftyle was then become the principal merit; as is
con antly the cafe with thofe nations that are enfeeé
bled and corrupted.
I here found the terrible Cr ebillon,who has painted
crimes in all thofe frightful colours by which they
are charaéle rifed. This people fometimes read his
Works, but never fuifer them to be afted.
It is eafy to be,imagined, that I recolleé ted my
friend Fontaine, equally beloved and con antly
read.
* Racine and Boileau were tw o da ardly .courtiers, who
approached their monarch with the awe of two tradefmeti
of the Rue St. Dennis. It was not fo that Horace fre-
quented Augnltus. ~ Nothing can be more mean than the
letters of thefe two poets, in raptures (0 nd themlelves at
the court. It is difficult to conceive of more miferable pro-
dué tions. Racine at laft died of chagrin, becaufe Louis
XIV.'ca{t a contemptuous look at him in the public walks;
I
THE KING'S LIBRARY. .133
read ". Moliere, that juft judge of merit, prefented
this rfl of moral poets with immortality. Fable, it
is true, is the allegorical language of a ilave, who
dares not talk to his matter} but at the fame time,
as it moderates that feverity which there may be in
truth, it mutt con antly be highly valuable in a
world expofed to all forts of tyrants. Satire is, per.
haps, the weapon of defpair alonet
How far has this age placed that inimitable fabulil c
--ab0ve Boileau-f, who, (as the mbbé Co ard fays)
made himfelf the diétatorlof Parna hs, and who,
,void of invention, force, grace, and fentiment, was
nothing more than a tame and {crupulous ver er.
They had preferved feveral other fables, among
which were fome by La Motte, and thofe 01" Ni.
vernoisi.
The
Fontaine was (he con dant of nature, and merited, by
pre-eminence, the'title of poet. I am furprifed at the am
dacity of thofe who have nce wrote fables with the pre-
fumption of imitating him.
1 The critic who only endeavours to depreciate an au«
thor, inftead of explaining him, difcovers his own vanity,
ignorance, and jealoufy- His malignity will not let him
clearly difcern the good and bad parts ofa book. Critici n
belongs to them only whore judgment and candour are not,
in any degree, infeéted by perfonal intere . Critic, know
lhyfelf; and ifthou wouldft form a right judgment of any
work, remember, that depending on thy own lights only,
thou eun judge of nothing.
1 Seven hundred'yenrs hence, it will not be remem-
bered, perhaps, that this 'charming fabulilt was a duke, and
R 2 wore
134 THE KING S LIBRARY.
The poet Rou eau made a diminutive gure:
they had prefervecl fame of his odes and cantatas,
but all his gloomy epi les, his tedious and dry alle-
gories, his Mandragpra, his epigrams, the work of
a depraved heart, had .all, it is eafy to imagine, pe-
riihed in thofe ames they had long deferved; I
cannot here enumerate all the falutary mutilations
that had been made in many works otheer e ju ly
renowned. I {aw none of/thofe frivolous poets, who
attered themfelves'that the ita e of their age, which
diffpfed over the mo : ferious fubjeé ts that falfe v-ar-
nilh of it which debafes reafon, would have pre-
ferved them'*. All thefe {allies of a light and giddy-
imagination, reduced to their juft value, were eva-
porated, like thofe {parks that (him with the greater
lhl tre only to be the fooner extinguilhed. All thofe
writers of romances, whether hi oric, moral orXpo-
litical, where fcattered truths are only to be met with
by chance ; and thofe in which the objeé t is not con-
dered in all its di 'erent points of view; and la ly,
thofe Who led aftray by a prejudice for a particular
fy em, had followed their own ideas only; 211 thefe
authors, I fay, deluded by the abfencc or prefence
of genius, had difappcared,_or had undergone the
pruning knife of ajudicious critic, which is far from
being
wore a blue ribband, but doubtlefs that he was a fprightly
~philof0pher.
" When Hercules {aw the ame of his favourite Adbnis,
in the temple of Venus, he cried out, There is no divi-
nity in thee. The fame may be {aid of all thofe polifhed,
delicate, ingenious, and effeminate works.
THE KING S LIBRARY. {85
being a fatal initrument l", Sagacity and a love, of
order had prefided over this new ltruéiure; as in.
thofe thick fore s where the branches, intwined With
each other, conceal all the paths, and where there
reigns an eternal and noxious fhade; if the indu zry
of man bears the hatchet and the ame, the genial
rays of the fun enter, the owery paths recreate the
fight, and we traverfe each route without fear or dif-
gu . I perceived in a corner a curious book which
feemed to me judiciou y compofed, and was intitled,
Ufurpm RE/m'lm iom. It contained the reafqns that
determined the extiné tion of many bo'oks, and 0F the
contempt that. was caf t on the pen of certain writers,
who were neverthelefs admired in their own age.
The fame book redrefled the wrongs of the colem
poraries of great men, when their adverfaries were
unju[t,jeal'ous, or blinded by fome other pa ion-l-.
I chanced to lay my ham} on a Voltaire. O hea-
vens! I cried, to what a file is he fhrunk! \Vhere
are thofe twenty- x quarto volumes that owed from
his brilliant, exhau lefs pen? If that celebrated wri-
ter
"" It would be a work worthy of a man of found judg
ment, to form a rational and comprehen ye catalogue of
the beft books in every fcience, and to point out the manner
of reading them, and thofe pafl'ages that are molt worthy
of attention.
1 There ill remains a good book to he wrote, though
already done; Great Ewemxfrom limit Ctzzgfex. But, where
is the man who can difcover the real clue; I will mcntioh
another, very proper for the prefent age, T/m Plawmsu
rw/w [JECOUIE metcmor: la fem}: f/Jt Ba 7.'(jf: 0f 1.59/2le
zlcfp ; and one more,. 7/): Crime: y Swenigus.
R3
186 THE KING S LIBRARY.
ter could come agairtupon the earth, how would he be
ai conilhed ! We have been obliged to burn a large
portion, was replied. You know that ne 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 charaé ter 0f
boldnefs, to a flow difcu ion of the truth. Rarely
had his writings any depth. He was a rapid {wal-
low that glanced with grace and eafe along the fur-
fuce of a large river, where he drank, and dipped his
wings as he ikimmed along. He was at once a man
of genius and of wit. We cannot refufe him the rit,
the molt noble and amiable of virtues, the love of
humanity. He has combated with ardonr for the
iiztereft ofman. He not only dete ed, but rendered
dete able, perfecuticn and tyranny of every kind.
He brought a rational and a e ing morality on the
Rage. He has painted heroifm in its proper colours.
In a word, he was the greateit poet of the French has
tion. We have preferved hi3 Epopeae; for, though the
plan be tri ing, yet the name of Henry IV_. has ren-
dered it immortal. We are, above all, captivated with
his beautiful tragedies, in which there ihines a pencil
fo facile, {'0 various and foju . We have alfo preferved-
all his prefe pieces, where he is not ridiculous, too fe-
vere, or improperly fatyrical; it is there he is truly
o; igihztl*. But you know, that toward the fteen
la ;
* I am charmed with the painter of nature, who lets. his
pencil rnn freely over the cloth, who prefers a certain eafy
and bold liberty, that gives a lufhe to 'his colours; to that
frigjd'pieci on,-that tame regularity, which rcon antly'r:
mm s
THE KING s LIBRARY.» I 37
lait years of his life, he had only a few remaining
ideas which he reprefented under a hundred different
faces. He perpetually retailed the fame fubjeé t. He
engaged in controver es with thofe he ought to have
defpifed. He had the misfortune to write in pid
and grofs re eétions again : J. J. Rou 'eau; a furious
jealoufy f0 far tranfported him, that he even wrote
without judgment. We were obliged to burn thofe
wretched performances, which would have di ho-
houred him to the molt di ant pofierity; {till more
jealous of his glory than he was himfelf, we have
been obliged to delhjoy one moiety of that great man
to preferve the other.
Iam
minds me ofthe art and its fubterfuges. 0, how brilliant
is the writer who gives himfelf up entirely to his genius,
who indulges in voluntary negligences, and fhews, with a
light hand, happy and 'variegated touches; who deigns to
have foibles, is pleafed with a certain irregularity, and ne-
ver {0 engaging as when in diiorderl Behold the man of
iperlative genius. A tedious fymmetry can pleufe none
but fots. Every man of a lively imagination wiihes that
we would aid him with our wings. It is to this happy vi.
vacity, which i'oufes the minds, that we_owe the crowd of
readers. Like the elementary fire, the writer {houldbe
for ever in aé tion. But this fecret is communicated only to
the few. The numbers labour, fweat, make a thoufand
efforts to obtain a jelid perfeétion. He who is born to write
in a bold, rapid, brilliant yle, above all rules, with the
fame {t_roke of his pen expreffes his idea and imprints it with
plealure on the heart of his reader. Behold Voltaire, who,
like a (tag, bounds over the plains ofliterature, while fome
pretended imitator, fome congealed copyi s, fuch asta
H , comes, like a tortoife, creeping after.
138 THE KING S LIBRARY.
I am charmed; I'cried, to nd, that you have pre-
ferved J. j. Rouffeau entire. What a work is the
Emilius What a fen bility of foul is dii fufed over
that beautiful romance, the new Eloifa! What bold,
comprehen ve, and penetrative ideas in his letters to
De la Montague! What vigor, what re in his other
works! With what thought does he infpire his rea-
der! Every particular appears to me worthy to be
read. So we have judged, replied the librarian.
There mutt have been a very mean and cruel pride
in your age. In faét, you mutt not have under ood
him; your trifling difpo tion would not permit you
to purfue his arguments. He had reafon to defpife.
you. Your philofophers themfelves were of the vul's.
gar people. But I think we are agreed concerning
this philofopher; it is , therefore needlefs to fay
more.
In turning over the books of the lait divi on, I {aw
with ple ai ure many works formerly dear to my na-
tion. ' L Efprit des Loix; L Hiftoire Naturelle; the
book De I Efprit commented in fume parts 1-. Nor
had they excluded the friend of mm, the Belifurius;,
the works of Linguet; the eloquent harangues of
Thomas
* What in pidities have been printed again this immor-
tal work! How can a man dare to write when he knows
not even how to read.
1- The fpider draws poifon from the fame rofe whence
the bee exttex s honey; {0 a bad man frequently nourifhes
his malignil y from the fame book whence the good man
derives the greate confulation.
THE KING S LIBRARY. 18?
Thomas", St. Servan, Dupaty, Le Tourneur, and
the difcnurfer of Phoeion.\I diltinguifhed the nume-
rous and philofophic works that the age of Louis
XV. had produced 1-. The Encyclopedia was formed
.on a new and more happy plan. In ead of that
wretched praétice of reducing all things to a di ion-
ary, that is, of mincing the feveral fciences, they had:
preferved earh art entire. With a ngle glance of
the eye you faw all their different parts. This work
contained vaft and exaét drafts that followed each
other in a regular order, and were conneé ted in a {im-
ple and pleating manner. All that had been wrote
againlt the Chri ian religion was burned, as books
that were become ahfolutely ui elefs.
I inquired for the hiftorians, and the librarian faid,
We a ign that province in part to our painters.
Faéts have a philofophical certainty, which is to be
expre 'ed by the pencil. What is hiltoryg In reality
nothing more than the knowledge of faéts. The
re e ions and inferences appertain to the hi orian,
and not to the {cience itfelf. The faé ts, however, are
innumerable. What popular reports; what fuper-
annuated fables; what endlefs details! The tranfac-
tions
There is at prefent no tribune for harqngues; eloquence
however is not dead. Itttill (peaks, fometimes thunders;
and though it cannot roufe us to virtuous fentiments, yet,
at lea , 1t confounds us with (harm.
it The philofopher who is employed in examining the
nature of man, of policy and manners, di tifes ufeful lights
o'ver the Ieommunity 3 his detractors are either fats, or ma-
lignant Citizens.
190 THE KING S LIBRARY.
tions of each age are the melt interefting of all others
for the cotemporaries; and of all ages, thofe of the
prefent only are not to be inve igated. They have
wrote laboriou y of ancient and foreign hiltory, but
have turned their attention from prefent fafts . The
Tpirit of conjeétu re is difplaycd at the expence of
accuracy. Many have 1b little known their ,own
weaknefs, that feveral ngle pens have attempted
an univerfal hiltnry, more romantic than the good
Indians, who allowed at lea four elephants to ip.
port the world. In a word, hi ory has been {0
dis gured, fo [tufted with falfehoods and puerile re-
eé tions, that a romance to every judicious mind,
is more eligible tha'n thofe colleé tions of fafts,
where, as on a boundlefs ocean, we fail without a
compafs-f.
We have made a ight extraét, painting each
age in [bong charaéters, and defcribing thofe per-
fons
*This is natural enough in France, where there is 1'0
much danger in writing (in recent faéts ; but, to our good
fortune, it it not {0 here.
+ When we re eét on the nature of the human mind,
we mutt be convinced of the impo ibility of a real ancient
hi ory. The, modem is more probable; but betweenpro-
bability and truth there, is almoft as great a diftance, as
between truth and falfehood. Moreover, we learn nothing
from modern' hi ories. Each hi orian accomodates the
faéts to his ideas, almoft in the fame manner as acook
does the difhes to his palate; we mull dine in the ta e
of the cook : we muft read in the humour of the hiftorian.
THE KING S LIBRARY. 19:
fons qnly who have had a real in uence on the de iny
of empires". We have omitted thofe reigns where
there were nothing to be few but Wars and cruelties.
They ought to be concealed ; for nothing fhould be
prefented that Will not do honour to humanity. It
is perhaps dangerous to preferve all the excelTes to
which vice has been extended. The number of the
guilt ! 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 {on
who revered his father, and covered with a vaiI' the
tliforders of ebiiety.
I approached the librarian, and afked in a low 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 compéfed in the twentieth
eentury. Never have I read any thing more curious;
more ngnlar and aftoniihinrr. The hiltorian, from
a regard to the eXtravaganee of the circum ances3
had not facti ced any detail. My curio t'y, my
aftoniihment redoubled at every page. I was taught
'to reform many of" my ideas; 213d to know, that they
age in which we live, is, of all others, the molt di ant
from
* To fay the reign of Charles VI. or Louis XIII. is a
mifnomer, and_ miil t mi ead the unattenrive reader . A
monarch, who has no in uence on the age in which he
lives,as is frequently the cafe, fhould be ranked in the clufs
Ofcommon men, and we fhould fay, for example, after the
death of Henry IV. lVe/ball norw dqféribe the age szicbe-
lieu, 6c.
192 THE MEN OF LETTERS.
from us. I laughed, I admired greatly ;. but I wept;
at leaft as much. . . . . I can fay no more here;
the events of the prefent day are like fruit that '{hould
not be ta ed till it is ripe".
C H A P. XXIX.
THE MEN OF LETTERS.
AS I went out of the library, a {tranger ac-
co ed me, and we entered into converfation. It
Was concerning men of letters. I have known but
few in my time, I faid, but thofe I have known were
gentle, modet t, friendly, and full of probity. If_
they had defet ts, they redeemed them by {0 many
valuable properties, that a man mutt be- incapable
of friendi-hip who had not an attachment to them.
Ehvy, ignorance, and calumny have dis gured
the charaé ters of authors; for every public man
is expofed to the brutal difcourfe of the vulgar,
who, however ignorant they may be, pronounce
boldlyj'. The great, as de itute, for the mo :
part
"' Time prpduces all thimgs. Thote fecrets which are
thought to be completely concealed will o cr themfelves to
'the public, as the rivers run into the (ca. To .ourchildren
all will be known.
'f A man of this clafs, who is incapable of writing a
ngle line, but has a talent for verbalfatire, in confequence
of
THE"MEN OF LETTERS. 19;
part, of talents as of virtue, are jealpus of their at-
traéting the regard of the nation, and pretend to def;
pife 'tliem*. 'Writers have alfo frequently to combat
with the contemptible ta e of the public, who, the-
moreit is enriched by their works, becomes the more
{paring of its applaufe, and fometimes abandoning
works
ot ridiculing authors and gratifying malignity, becomes 'at
la perfuaded, that he is himfelf a man of ta e and in-
genuity; but he is miferably deceived, béth in judging of
himfelf and of others.
* It is not to the moft powerful monarchs, nor to the mott
opulent princes, nor to the chief rulers of a nation, that
mutt Rates owe their fplendor, force and gloty. It is pri.-
vate perfons, who have made the mo a(tonithing improve-
ments in the arts, in (ciences, and even in the art of govern-
ment. \Vho meafured the earth ? Who difc'overed the
{yliem of the heavens ? Who inventedthofe curious manu-
faétures with which we are Cloathed ? Who has lajd open
the fecrets of natural hiftory? Who has explored the in~
tricttcies of chemiftry, anatomy, and botany? Certainly
private perfons; who, in the eye of the wife man, mult
eclipfe the pretendersto greatnefs, thofe proud dwarfs, wht
cherifh nothing but their own vanity. In effe , it is no
kings, mihifters, perfons inverted with authority that govern
the world. No, it is thofeinen of {uperior genius, who
cry to their cotemporaries, with their bold and irre ible
voice, Bani ) t/Jafe ewrelcbed prejudices; pmfu: mart eleva-
ted I/Mmgblx, dquz «uibat thou 11a]! fovli rl} rzfpe ed, amt
rque tbat whirl), through igim ame, tbau ba de/jbifed;
,pro t 1;} [by pa follies, and learn better to di ingui/lé 1/29
right: ofmanlzind ; adopt I/JE idea: that l lm- ue/ beforr'tliee.
77;} route is rlearZy tmcrd, mart}; I Ami I will a/{fwerfw
fly! fmafr.
S
:94 THE MEN OF LETTERS.
works of genius, run gaping after fome wretched
bu foonery. In a word, they have need of the
greateft fertitude to fupport themfelves in a career,
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 juit renown, by bla ing
their enemies, has crowned their noble efforts with
fuccefs.
I acknowledge this portrait to be jult, my in-
terlocutor politely replied. Men of letters are be-
come the moPc refpe able of citizens. Every one
feels how de rable it is to he di 'olved in tendernefs;
it is the moPc lively pleafure the mind can enjoy. It
is to them, therefore, that the Rate has con ded the
care of developing this principle of virtue. By eit-
hibiting majef cic, terrible, and tender pié tures, and
by improving the fen bility of mankind, they dif-
pofe them to all thofe great: qualities that proceed
from it. We nd, he continued, that the
writers of your age, as to what concerns morality,
and grand and ufeful purfuits, have far furpalTed
thofe of the age of Lewis XIV. They have freely
painted the faults of kings, the misfortunes .of the
people, the ravages of the pa ions, the efforts of
virtue, and even the fuccefs of vice;' faithful to their
vocation , they have had the intrepidity to infult
thofe
The famous Locu a, {kilful in the art of preparing
{ubtle poifons, was lodged by Nero in his palace; and {o
de rous
THE MEN OF LETTERS. 195
thofe bloody trophies: which fctvility and error had
confecratcd to tyranny. ' Never was the caufe 0f
hum.-\nity more rongiy pleaded; and though they.
have loll; it by an inconceivable fatality, yet theft:
dztuntlefs advoeates remain not the lefs covered with
glory.
All the firearms of light that have iffued from
theft: vigorous and unduumetl fouls, rite prefctvecl
and tz anfmitted from age to age : like 11 feed that
is for a long time trod under foot, but being fuddenly
ttanfported by a favourable wind to fame place of
fhsiter,
de rous was he of preferving a woman f0 ufeful to his de-
gns, that he appointed guards to attend her. It was {he
who compofed the cup by which Btitannicus perifhed.
\Vhen the poifon had blackened the vifage of that unfor-
tunate prince, Nero caufed it to be fpread over with white
paint, {0 that it appeared with the palenefs of a natural
death ; but, as they bore it to the tomb, a fudden and co-
pious {hower ofrain wafhed offthe paint, and expofed what
the tyrant thought he had fafely c oncealed. I nd in this
faét an allegory fuf cientlyjufl. Princes fondly carefs faith-
ful monflers ; and either from upidity, or contempt of the
laws, or a con dence in their own power, they think to con-
ceal their real qualities from the public; but [0011 hi ory,
the fudden fhower,wafhes oi? the falfe colours, and all their
vices {laud full expofed to view.
1" Men of common capacities, and they who have not
fathomed the depths of government beyond a certain point,
are very far from being able to difcover the. conneftions of
{peculation and fcience with the riches and happinefs ofa.
nation.
. S 2
Mp1
»
ne
.196 THE MEN OF LETTERS.
ielter, it fprings up, increafes, becomes a tree,
wh ofe fpreading branches prefent- both ornament and-
refuge.
IF, better informed of the nature of true great-
helis, we defpife the pomp and o eiitation of power;
if we turn our eyes towards thofe objeéts that are
worthy the refearch of men; we {hall nd that it is
to letters we owe it . Our writers have ill fur-
pa ed yours in coutxlge; if a prince deviates from
the laws, they revive the renowned tribunal of the
'(jilaitiefe; they engrave his name on .1 dreadful plate
ut bz';\l s,by which his difgrztce is eternally recorded.
Hit tm yin their hands is the rock to falfe glory, the
fetttence pn ed ~on illu'lrious criminals, the crucible
{nan which the hero exhales, if he has not been a
man.
How ought the princes of the earth, who com.
plain that all who approach. them are 35:1?th by.con,
Straint
4 We may a ert, with adegree of certainty, that the new
lights, \vhich'are every day difcovered, defcending by. de-
grees in almof t every Rate, will, by a ne method annihi-
late the prefent capricious jumble of laws, and {ub imte
others more natural and more iuf t; the judgment of the
public will have a powerful and penetrating voice that will
change the face of nations; it will be printing that will ren,
der this great {ervice to humanity. Let us therefore con-
tinue to print; an'd-let every one from the highettlto the
lowe t, read; but, at the fame time,.let us print that only
which is true and ufeful ; and let us well meditate before
we write.
THE MEN OF LETTERS. 197
raint and dif muiation; to he cpnfounded! Have
they not always with them tho : dumb but indepen-
dent and intrepid orators, who can, without oEe ce,
in ruét them, and who from their thrones, have nei-
ther favours to expeét nor difgrace to fear"? We
ought to_ render that juttiee to thofe noble writers, to
acknowledge that there is no race of men Who have
better ful lled their-de ination, Some have over-
thrown {uper itiom others fupported the rights of
the people. Thefe have dug the fruitful mine of mo-
rality, thgfe; difplayed virtue under the gure of an
indulgent fe'n bilit'yf. We have forgot the foibles
which they might: have as private perfons; We fee
that mats of light oply which they have formed and
aggran-
* The Prometheus of Efchylus contains a beautiful and
clear allegory. It is that of an arbitrary monarch Cruthing
a man of genius; for having brought down re from hea-
ven, with which be enlightened mankind, he is xed to the
fummit ot a ruck; being {lowly fcorched by the {un s rays,
the colour of his body is changed; the nymphs of the woods
and elds furround him with lamentatibns but are unable
to a i ; him; the Furies 'load him with irons that eat into
his efh; but a remorfe for having been virtuous can never
enter his heart.
'1- How great the recompence to an author who is th
friend oftruth and virtue, when, as we read, we drop the
burning tear upon his book, and, at the fame moment draw
from the bottom ofthe heart the {lruggling gh; then clofe
the book, and, lifting our eyes to heaven, form ardent vir-
tuous refolutions! This, doubtlcfs, is the moft brilliant re-
ward that any writer ought to with. What, to this, are the
difcordant fhouts of applaufe, as empty as they are trqn ,
tory, as envied as they are uncertain.
$3
193 THE MEN OF LETTERS.
aggrandifed, that moral fun; Which can never be
extinguifhed but with the grand luminary of the
\Univerfe.
How glad {hould I be to enjoy the prefence of that}
great men! for I have ever had a rong attraélion
towards writers of real merit; I love to fee them, but
ill more to heat their, difcourfe. It happens right
luckily ; to-day they open the academy, in order to
receive a man of letters. Ir i the room, doubtlefs,
of one that deceafed. What fay you? MuPc merit
wait till death has de royed his fellow, that he may
-fupply his place? No ; the number of our academi-
cians is not xed; every talent receives the crown of
its reward ; there are fuf cient to recompenfe them
all»*.
CHAP.
4 An author who is not much in uenced 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
de rous of the progrefs of human knowledge, than of grap
tifying' his own vanity, inflead of being a iiéted, he will re-
joice that he cannot launch forth from his obfcurity.
E I99]
01-1 A P. XXX.
THE ACADEMT OF SCIENCE.
WE advanced toward the academy. It [till
preferved that name; but how different its lituation
from that where it was formerly held! It no longer
made a part of the palace of the king. How won-
derful are the revolutions of ages! A pope now ts
in the place of the Carats! ignorance and fuperfli-
tion inhabit Athens ! the ne arts have own to
R ia! Would it have been believed in my time,
that a mountain marked with ridicule for merely af-
fording nurture to a few afl'es by its thi les, {hould
become the jult image (if the ancient Parna hs, the
feat of genius, the habitation of~renewned Writers?
They would have aboliihed the name of Mont-
martre , but from a complaifance to received pre-
judices.
This auguft fpot, clothed on all des by venerable
woods, is confecrzited to [olitude; an exprefs law for-
bids the approach of all difcordant noife. The earth
has produced frefh beds of {tone to form the founda-
tions of this noble afylum. On this mount, ble 'ed
with the molt genial rays of the fun, are nourifhed
fair trees, whofe towering fummits fometimes em-
brace
* The hill Monti artre is on the north de of'Paris, and
almofl adjoining to it. They fay, that on its fummit there
was once a temple dedicated to(Mars, from which it took
its name.
290 THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE.
brace each other, and fometimes at dit tance keep, to
a ord the exploring eye a prpfpeét of the face of
heaven.
As I mounted with my guide, I obieryed,-here and
there, elegant hermitages di im t from each other.
I a-fked who inhabited thofe owery fp'ots, half cori-
cealed by the woods, ind half expofed to view, whot'e
afpeét appeared f0 en_gagittg.- You {hall foon
know, - was replied 5 let us now ha en; the hour
approaches. _ In faét, I faw a great number of per-
fons arrive from every de, not in coaches, but on
foot. Their converfation feemed to be highly plea-
ng and animated. We entered an edifice fuf -
ciently large, but decorated with great limplicity. I
obferved no Swifs, armed with a heavy halberd, at
the door of the tranquil fanétuary cf the Mufes; there
was-nothing to forbid entrance amidtt a crowd of
worthy men".
The hall was remarkably fon orous; fo that the
molt feeble academic voice might be heard at the
greatelt dittance. The order that there reigned was
not lefs remarkable; feveral rows of benches fut-
rounded the hall; for they knew that the ear thould be
at its cafe in an academy, as the eye in the falcon of
a painter
I have ever been highly curious to fee a man of genius,
and have thought that I difcovered in his port, his aétions,
the air of his head, his countenance, and afpeEt, bmething
that dittinguithed him from the common rape of men. The
fcience of phytiognomy {till remains to be properly inver-
tigated.
THE ACADEMV OF SCIENCE. 20;
a 'pninter. I con dered every objec t at 'my leifure.
The number of academics feats was not ridiculou y
xed; but what feemed molt ngular was, that, on
the back of each chair a fcroll was difplayed, on
which Were di in ly wrote the titles of that acade-
mician who chofe it for his feat; 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. his eafy to
conceive, that no one offered to difplay :1 charts
blanche, as was done in my day, by bilhops,marfhals,
and preeeptors"*; {till 1er wouldfthey dare to ex.
pofe to the fevere public eye'the title of a work
of ..mcan merit, or a fervile imitation; it mutt be
a work that points out fome new difcovery in the
arts, or, at leaft, that excels all others on the fame
fubjeé tf.
MY
'* We have {em on the Boulevards, (the old rampant of
Pai'ix whirl) no-w ferrug zr recreation,) an automaton that
articulated founds, and the people ock to admire it. How
many éutomata, with human faces, do we fee at court, at
the bar, in the academies, who owe their fpeech to the
breath of invi ble agents; when they ceafe,' the machines
remain dumb.
+There are no longer any means Iett to d-iftinguifh our.
(elves, they fay. Wretches ! that huht after {moke, the,
path ofvirtue {till lies before you; there you will nd but
few competitors; but that is not the fort of glory that you
{eek. l under and you ; you would become the tubjeét
of popular difcourfe. I gh for you, and for the human
race.
.;
;.,
._.
.
202 THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE.
My guide pulled me by the eeve You feem
a onilhed ; let me increafe your wonder. \Thofe
charminghabitations which you obfcrved on afcend-
ing the mountain, form» the retreats of thofc who
are {truck by an unknown power that commands
them to write. Our academicians are C;trthtt ztns*;
it is in folitude that genius difplays its powers, for-
tlzes the beaten path, and difcovers unknown regibns.
\Vhen does 'enthu a n. fpring forth ? \Vhen the
author dcfcends into himt'eh", hen. he inve igates
his own foul, that profound mind, of whore value
the po 'e br is not .unfrequently ignorant. What
infpirers are retreat and ftiendihipqL ! What more is
neceffary to thofe who feurch for nature and truth?
Where do we hear their ibiime vvoice? In the tumult
of cities, amidt t that crowd of low purfuits, that,
unknown to ourfelves, befiege the heart? No; it is
amidft the rural {cenes that the foul rejuvenates; it
is there that it contemplates the majePcy of the uni;
verfe, that maje y, eloquent, and all-gracious; the
thought xikes, the exprc ion glows ; the image and
its fplendor become widely extended, like the horizon
that furrounds us.
(t In
* Let him who would acquire a rength of .mind,
a iduou y exert its powers; the greateft uggard is ever
the greateft (lave.
+Man has much longer time to live with the mind
than with the fenfes; he would therefore :18: wiier to
depend for his pleafures on the former rather than on the
latter.
THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. 203
In your days, the men of letters frequented the
circles to amufe the coquettes, and obtainan equivo-
cal fmilc; they facri ced all that was bold and
manly to the fuper itious empire of fafhion; they
divcfted the foul of itsreal nature, to pleafe the age.
In ead of looking forward to an auguft feries of ages,
they rendered themfelves aves to :1 momentary tafte.
In a word, they purfued ingenious falfehoods; they
i ed that inward voice which cries, Be mre ax t/Je
time tbat m ; be inexorable a: pq/erity.
Thefe academics, moreover, here enjoy that;
happy mediocrity", which, among us, con itutes
fovereign wealth. We do not offer to interrupt
them, either with a de re to difcover the leaft move-
ments of their minds, or from a vanity of being
admitted to their company. We reVere their time,
as we do the hallowed bread of the indigent; but at-
tentive to their de res, at the leaf c gnal they nd
them gratified. If that he the cafe, you mutt have
fuf cient employment. Are there not thofe who
affume the rank to cover their idlenefs or real weak-
nefs ? No; this region is {0 {trongly illuminated,
that the ieait {pot is ea ly difcovered. Impoiture
dare not here intrude; it can never hear the look of
a man of genius, whofe piercing eye nought can
deceive. For thofe whom prefumption may bring
hither,
* The great man is modeft; the man of mediocrity tiif-
playshis indifferent advantages; {0 the majefiic river glides
lently along, while the rivulet runs chattering over the
rugged pebbles.
l
m
e
204 THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE.
hither", there are perfons of a benign temper, who
effeétually difl'uade them from a projeét that cannot
redound to their honour. In a word} the law en-
joins . . .' . -Our converfation was interrupted by a
fudden general lence in the a 'embly. My whole
foul ew to my ear, when I beheld one of the
academicians prepare to read a manufcript which
he held in his hand, and with a grace by no means
in gni cant.
O ungrateful memory, how could I reproach thee?
Why did : thou defert me ? Would that I could re-
peat the perfua ve difcourfe pronounced by that
academic! The force, the method, the flowing pe'.
riods have efcaped me; but the impte ion on my
mind can never be effaced. No; never was I {0
enraptured. The vil'age of each auditor re e ed
thofe fentiments with which I was agitated ; it was
one of the melt delicious enjoyments' my heart ever
felt. What depths! what images! what truths!
what a noble ame ! how fublime a tone ! The orator
declaimed againl c envyf, defcribed the fources ofthat
fatal
*There is no objeét that may not be viewed from a
hundred difTerent flations; but there is only one from
whence it can be juftly beheld; and if that is not chofen,
genius and labour become ufelefs.
+ 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 analdgy it dwells on thofe parts only that
are imperfeét. The man of letters who by an habitual
exercife
THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. 205
fatal pa ion, its horrible e 'eéts, the infamy it has
call; on the laurels that have crowned many great
men; all its vile, unjuft, detei cable qualities were'fo
rongly painted, that while we deplored the fate of
its blind, unhappy viélims, we ttembled left our own
hearts {hould be infeéted by its poifon. The mirror
was {0 properly prefented before each particular
charaéter, their meannefs expofed in fuch various and
ridiculous lights, the human heart ,difplayed in a.
manner {0 new, {0 re ned, f0 (hiking, that it was
impo ible not to know them; and when knowing,
not to form the de gn of abjuring that miferable
weaknefs. The'fcar of bearing fome refemblance
to that frightful mon er, Envy, produced a happy
effeét. I faw, O in ruétive ght! 0 moment un-
heard 'of' in the annals of literature! I {aw the mem-
bers of that a 'embly regard each other with a tender
and fympathizing'look ; I faw them mutually open
their arms, embrace, and cry with joy; their bofoms
re ing and panting again each other; I {aw (will
it be believed?) the authors difperfed about the room
imitate the affeétionate tranfports of the academi-
cians, and-convinced ofthe talents of their brethren,
{wear an unalterable, eternal friendlhip; I faw the
tears of affeélion and benevolence nv from every eye.
They were a company of brothers, who {ub ituted
that-
exercife of reafon and tafl'e, improvesthe one and the other,
and ince 'antly creates to himfelfnew joys, is ofall men the
molt happy if he can dive himfelfofjealoufy or of an
over fenfibility.
T
206,. THE ACADEMY 'OF SCIENCE.
that honourable applaufe in the room of 'our- upid
clapping of hands* .
After the full enjoyment of thofe delicious mo-
'ments; after each one had expre 'ed the various
fenfations that he had felt, and thofe Rrokes by
which he was moft Rrongly a eé ted; and after fre-
quently repeating the vows of endlefs friendfhip,
anbther member of this augu z'fociety arofe with a.
fmiling air; an applauding murmur run throughthe
hall, for he was e eemed a Socratic raileri. He
raifed his voice, and faid,
GENTLEMEN,
Many reafons have induced me to offer you to
day a uort, but, I think, curious extraét of what
our academy was in its infancy, that is, about the
eighteenth century. The cardinal who was our
founderi, and whom our predece brs have f0 ex-
travagantly
' When at the theatre or the academy, an a cé ting or-
fublime pa itge (trikes the a embly, in ead of that gh from
the bottom ofthe heart, and the lent emotions, I hearthofe
clappings redoubled till they f nake the reef, I fay to myfelf,
thefe people have no feeling; they are men of wood that
rike two boards together.
1 As a maiignaht raillery is the fruit of an iniquitous di -
Ipo tion, f0 an ingenious pleafantry is the fruit of- wifdom.
A {prightly temper and graceful mamier were the mott
triumphant arms of Socrates.
I Cardinal RiChCiiCUl
THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. 297
' traya gantly extolled, and to 'whom they attributed,
in our ef tabliihment, the moi t profound de gn s,
would never have formed this infiitution, '(let us
confefs it) if he had not himfelf made wretched
verfes which he idolized, and which he was de -
1'ous that We {hould celebrate. That cardinal, I
fay, at the time he invited the authors to form one
body; difcovered his defpotic temper, when he
' made them fubjeét totules eyer unknown togenius.
Our founder had {0 imperfeé t an idea of what fuch
aifociety ought to be, that he limited'the number
of members to fatty; ('0 that Corneille land 'Mon-
tefquieu might have waited at the door to {She end
oftheir days. This cardinal imagined, moreover,
that genius would naturally remain in obfcurity,
if titles and dignities did not tronfe it from its
inanity. When he formed this tan ge judgment,
furely, he could think of fuch rhimers only as Col-
" letet and his colleagues, whomiihe'fupporte d oat of
mere vanity.
From thence it became an .e'ftablifhed cu om,
that they who had money in the room of merit, and
f'titles in ead of genius, feated themfelves, by tho z
who'fe name's had been celebrated by fame through-
out all Europe. He washimfelf the rPt example,
' and he was buttoo well imitated. When thoI e
:great men who drew the attention of their own age,
and who-fe regards were xed on that of pofterity,
had covered with glory the place where they held
their affemblies, the gilt and titled idiots be eged
"the door; nay, almof t prefumed to declare, that
T 2 they
208 'THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE.
' they re eéted honour on the fociety by their paitry
ribbons, and, in faét, believed, 0r pretended to be-
lieve, that, by {eating themfelves by men ofgenius,
they aétuaily refembled them.
Then were {een marfhals, as well viétorious as
beaten, mitred heads that had .never made a man-
date, men of the long robe, preceptors, and nan-
ciers, who pretended to the title ofmen of genius;
and though they were nothing more than the deco-
rations of the theatre, really believed themfelves
to be capital performers. Some eight or ten among
the forty [hone by their own lu re; the rei t had
only a borrowed light; yet it \t'13 nece hry to
wait for the death of an academician111 order to
fill his place, and which, neverthelefs, for the moft
part, (till remained empty.
What could be more ludicrous than to fee that
academy, whofe renown was fpread over all the
capital, hold its afiemblies in a fmaII, clofe, mean
room? There, in feveral armed chairs, that were
formerly red, were feet), from time to time, a
number of indolent wretches, carelefsly feated,
weighing of fyllables, or carefully culling the'words
out of fome piece of profe or poetry, in order, at
laft, to applaud the moft unmeaninglamong them.
But, on the other hand, pray remark it; gentlemen,
they never erred in calculating the number of coun-
ters that each gained by the abfence of his brethreq.
Can you believe that they gave the conqueror a
gold medal in the room bfa branch of oak, 1nd
t at
THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. 209
that on it there was engraved this ridiculous inferip
tion; 111 imortalitc ? Alas! thatimmorlality pa ed
the next day into the goldfmith s crucible; and.
that was the moft real advantage the viftorious
ehampi on obtained.
Couid you imagine, that thofe little viétories
fometimes turned the conquerors brains, { 0 great
was their ridiculous vanity" E and that the judges
exercifed fcarce any other funétion than that of dif-
tributing thofe ufelefs prizes, about which no one
even ever mademquiry.
The place of their affembly was open to none
but authOrs; and they were admitted by tickets
only. In the morning was performed a mu cal
mafs; then a tremblinlr prieft pronounced the pa-
negyric of Lewis IX. (1 know not very well why)
extolling him for more than an hour, though he
was
Except theuniverfity prizes, which give rife to a foolifh
pride in childith heads, I know of nothing more pernicious
than the medals of our literary academies. The conqueror
really thinks himfelfaperfou of confequence, and is mined
for the remainder of his days; he difdaim every one who
has not been crowned with to rare and illu rious a laurel.
See in the Mercurc de France, fo1 themonth of September,
x769, page 1 84, an initance 0f the mo 1idiculous egotifm.
A very diminutive author informs the public, that when i
he was at college, he pe1f01med his theme bette1 than his
colleagues; he glories in it, and imagines that be main-
tains the fame rank in the republic of letters. leum mu)
am, amici ?
T3
216 THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE.
was certainly a bad fovereign*. Then the orator
declaimed 0n the croifades, which highly in amed
the 'archbifhop s bile, who interdiéted the prieftly
orator, for his temerity in difplaying good fenfe.
In the eveningfwas another eulogy; but as that
was on a profane fubjeét the archbifhop hap-
piiy did not concern himfelf with the doétrine it
contained.
It is proper to remark, that the place where
they difplayed their wit Was guarded by fufileers
and gigantic Swifs, who undet l tood no French.
Nothing was more comic than the contra between
the meagre gure of the man of letters, and the
enormous blu cring {iature of the Swifs. This
was called a public q mb y. The public, it is true,
were there; but it was at the door; a poor ac-
knowledgment for their complaifance. In the mean
time, the {ole liberty that remained to the nation
was to pronounce abfoluteiy on profe or verfe, to
condemn one author, applaud another, and fume-
times laugh at them all.
The academic rage, however, pOITe ed every
brain; every one would be a royal cenfor-f, and
then
3* The rft penal ediét :lgain particular fentiments or
opinions was denounced by Lewis 1X. vulgarly called
St. Lewis.
1- Royal cenfor! I never hear that word without
laughter. We Frenchmen know not how ridiculous we
are, not what right we give go crity to regard us with pity.
THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE; '21 1
. then an academician. They calculated the lives of
all the members of the academy remarked the de-
gree of vigour that their omachs difcovered at
table; death feemed to the candidates to be ow in
his approach; the cry was, They are immortal!
When a new member Was chofen, fome one mut-
tered foftly, Ah! when {hall I make thy eulogy at.
the bottom of the long table, anding with my hat
on, and declare thee to be a great man as well as
Lewis XIV. and the chahcellor Seguier, While you
eep profoundly under your tomb Ptone decorated
with a curious epitaph.
The men of- money at la : {0 far prevailed in a
golden age, that they completely banifhed the men
of letters; {0 that in the following generation,- mef-
{ieurs the farmers-general, were in poiTeflion of the
forty armed chairs, where they fnored as much at
their eafe as their predece brs; and were [till more
dextrous in dividing the counters; From thence
it was that the old proverb arofe, T/Jt l e i: no Iter-
itzg the academy quit/zaut an :gmfagc.
The men of letters, unable to regain their ufurped
dominion, and drove to defpair confpired in form.
They had recourfe to their ufual weapons, epi-
grams, fangs, and vaudevilles*; they exhau ed all
the arrows from the quiver of fatire; but, alas! all
their attacks were fruitlefs; the hearts of their ad-
verfaries
* Poor rms! which even are now prohibited, and which
the inf'olent pride of the great at once feeks after and
dreads.
2(2 THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE.
- verféries were become fo callous as to be no longer
' penetrable, even by the piercing [trokes of ridicule;
4 all the hon mots of me ieurs the authors would
have been thrown away but for the aid of a violent
indigeflion, that furprifed the academicians on'a
" certain day, when affembled at a fplendid fea .
I Thofe three divinitics, Apollo, Pluto, and the god
of the dige ive faculty, quarrelled with each other;
i Indige ion attacking them tinder the double title.
of nanciers and academics, de royed them almoft
all; the men of letters again entered their ancient
dominion, and'the academy was {avecL . . .
There was an univerfal bur of laughter in the
a 'embly. Some of them a ced me in a low voice,
if- the account was juft. Yes, I replied, for the molt
part; but when we look down on pail times from
the {ummit of feven hundred years,.it is doubtlcfs
eafy to give a ridiculous turn to what then exi ed.
For the ref}, the academy agreed, even in my time,
that each member who compofed it was of more
worth-than the inflitution itfelf. Nothing can be
added to that confeflion. The misfortune is, that
when men meet'in af-I emblies, their heads contraé't, as
Montefquieu faid, who ought to know.
I pa 'ed into an apartment that contained the por-
traits of the academicians, is well ancient as modern;
I took particular notice of thofe that fucceeded the
academics now living; but, to avoid offence, I' {hall
not name them.
Helm!
THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. 1 I3
I lm ! Ia write /Emwmf { cruellc,
011 l aime, et [:1 bumaiiufonf malbeureuxpar cl/c.
VOL-r.
Alas! the truth we love, though oft we nd
'Her cruel, and a foe to human kind.
I cannot, however, refrain from relating a fa
that will certainly give great pleafure to every gene-
rous mind, that loves ju ice and detefts tyranny;
which is, that the portrait of the abbé St. Pierre was
reinftated in its rank with all the honouré due to fuch
exemplary virtue. They had e 'aced the turpitude
of which the academy had rendered itfelf eulpéble,
while it bowed the neck to a yoke of a fervitude it
ought never to hate known. They had placed this
ine imable and virtuous writer between Fenelon and
Montefquieu. I gave the praifes due to this noble
equity. I faw no portrait of Richelieu, nor of Chrif-
tina, nor of , nor , nor , which, though
but paintings, had been for ever difcarded.
As I defeended the mountain, I caft my eyes many
times on thofe lovely groves\vhere dwelt the men of
brilliant genius, who, in lence, and in the contem-
plation of nature, laboured to form the hearts of
their countrymen to virtue, to the love of the true
and beautiful; when foftly I faid: Would that I could
render myfelf worthy of this academy!
CHA P.
[214]
C H A P. XXXI.
7115 KING S CABINET.
NOT far from this enchanting fpot, I beheld
rz W'a '. temple that (truck me with awe and admira-
Jion. On its frontifpiece, was wrote An qbr-idgement-of
Jive uni-vzrfe. You fee, {aid my guide, the:king"s
=cabinet, though the edi ce belongs not to him, but to
the (late. We give it that title merely as a' markof
the refpeé t we hear his perfon: Our fovereign, more-
over, after the manner of the ancient kings, exercifes
'medicine, furgery, and the arts. The happy time is
returned when men in power, who are provided with
the nece ary means for performing experiments, are
rcharmed with the glory ofmaking difcoveries of im-
.portance to mankind, and are anxious to carry the
fciencestOth-at degree of perfeé tion which attends
their in uence and their zeal. The moft con der-
able per ms in the nation employ their opulence in
difeovering the fecrets of nature; and gold, formerly
.the fource of vice and the wages of floth, rewards
rthofe labours that are fubfervient to humanity.
On entering, I was (truck with a pleating furprize.
This temple was the animated palace of nature; all
her produétions were here colleé ted with a profu on
that was completely regular. The temple con ed
of four wings of an immenfe extent, in the centre of
which
THE KING S? CABINET. ' 215
which wastthefmoft; capaciousdome my eyes- ever
beheld.
Indifferent parts were placed marble atues, with
thefe infcriptions: To the inventor of the. faw, To
the inventor of the plane, the fcrew, the pulley, the
cap ane, the crane, &c. &c. All the different- forts of
animals, vegetables, and minerals were placed under
the four wings, and were vi ble by one- glance of the
eye. What an'immenfe and a onifhing a 'emblage !
Under the rlt wing were feen all from the cedéir
togthe hy 'op.
Under the fecend from .theveagle to the y.
Under the third, from the elephant tothe- ant.
Under the fourth, from the whale to the gudge on
In the middle of the dome were the {ports of Ina
t_ure.. Mon ersof every kind. Produé tions emor-
mous, unknown, ngular in their gender. For Na-
ture, the moment fhe abandons her ordinary laws,
di fcovers an intelligence [till more profv'mnd than
when fhe adheres ftriétly to them. On the {ides were
{een complete portions of matter taken irom the
mines which prefented the fecret laboratories, where
nature prepares thofe metals that man hastendered
fometimes ul ethl, fometimes dangerous. Long beds
of-matter iilfully taken up, and artfully placed,
fhowed the interior face of the earth, and the order
obferved
2x6 THE KING'S CABINET.
obferved in the different ltrata of (tone, clays, and
loam, there depo ted *.
How
'3 What follows was wrote me by a friend. I have
now a greater talte than ever for the quarries. .I think
it will make me dwell among the minerals and petrifac-
tions, and, perhaps, prepare me a tomb in the bowels of
the earth. I have defcended near nine hundred feet into
her bofom, hard by H, much concerned that I could
go no farther, I would have printed my footfleps on her
kernel, and have there enquired concerning the different
_nations that had fojourned on her furface; would have
alked, ifamong the in nite number of her children, any
onehad ever acknowledged, her benefaétions? If at the
fpot wherel meditate, far from the light-of day, {hehad
" ever produced'nouri iing fruits? And if a people, or
a throne had been there ; and how many beds, formed
of the ruins of mankind, {be concealed from the depth of
this abyfs to the laft point of her diameter? I would have
entreated her to let me read all the cata rophies that {he
had fu ered; and I (hould have bathed them with my
tears, when I had lcatnt all the difa ers from which {he
had not been able to defend her numerous family; dif.
a ers engraved on incontellible medals, but who. e res
membrance is utterly effaced; dilfa ers that will again
return when the {hall bury in her tides the prefent gene»
ration, who {hall in their turn be trod under foot by gene-
rations without number, who perhaps will have'no other
refemblance to them than the participation of thefame
misfortunes. Then, in the midll of my grief, as iu as
humane, I fhould have formed Cruel and charitable
Vows; I fhould haVe wifhed that {he would have {wal-
lowed up every animal exiflence; that {he would have
{matched every being endowed with fen bility, from the
light of the fun; all of whofe favours are infu icient to
repair
I
THE,KING's CABINET.- 2 I 7
How great was my a onifhment, when, in ead of
a parcel of dry bones, I faw the Complete whale, the
monf trous hippopotamus, the terrible crocodile; Ste.
They
repair the oppre ion of tyrants, who divide and confume
her amonglt them.
This globe, which bears {0 many wretches, would
then roll in an univerfal and happy lence; it would pre-
" fent to the fun s rays no unfortunate being compelled
to curfe it. No cry of lamentation would arife from this
planet; it would then traverfe the heavens with a tranquil
maje y. Her Children, Ileeping in one common tomb,
would fuffer her to obey the laws of the creation, w'hile
H they were no longer the viétims of deftruétive laws, that
fall on the head of man as on the meanefl grain of land;
and death furrounding this double hemifphere with his
peaceful fhadow, would perhaps prefent an appearance
_ more riking than the bluftering reign of this vainglo-
rious life, that draws after it a long {cries of crimes, an
inundation of misfortunes, and a terror even of its very
ditfoltition."
I replied to this friend, that I did not join with him in the
Iaft with; that phy cal evils were of all others the moft {up-
portable; that they were tran ent, and be des, inevitable;
and we had nothing to do but fubmit; but that it was in a
man s own power to defend liimfelf from thofe unhappy
paliions, that torment and difgrace him. I anfwered him
in conformity to the principles that are fu 'iciently explained
in the courfe of this work. I thought it butjult, however, to
preferve this extraét, as it abounds with a Ilrong {en bility .11.
j That there is n con derable degree of fen bility, and fame
ingenuity in this cxtraét, cannot be denied; but at the fame
U time,
218 THE KING S CABINET .
They had followed the arrangement, the degrada-
tions and varieties that nature has obfervea in her pro.
-'du ti0ns. The eye thus traced without labour the
chain of beings, from the greatelt to the ledft. We
there faw the lion, the tyger, the panther, in the
erce attitudes by which they are charaétetifed; the
voracious animals were reprefented 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 phy.
ognomy. Labour, cunning, and patience, art had
clofely imitated. The natural hiftory of each animal
was engraved under it, and the attendants explained
verbally,what would have been too long to be read.
That fcale of beings, f0 contefted in our day, and
which many philofophers had 'judiciou y fuppofed,
was here con rmed by the clearcft evidence. We
{aw di iné tly that the feveral { pecies touch; that they
run, [0 to fpeak, into each other; that by the delicate
and fen ble conneétions between the mere (tone and
the plant, the plimt and the animal, the animal anid
man, there remained no inter ices. That their
growth, duration, and de ruétion, were determined
by
'timeyit has certainly the air of a philofnphic rent. The writer
{cents to have not believed, or at leaf't no t fulhcicntly regardeti,
the doétrine of a future {late Would it have been unworthy
the wifdom and goodnefs of God, tohave created this earth
for the .xl ence of'one man only, if, after a '{h'ort duration
here, he were to inherit a glorious immortality?
'PHE KING S CABINET. 2 ,9
by- the fame caufes. It was moreover remarked, that:-
nature in all her operations2 tended with energy to
the formation of man; and that labouring patiently,
and even at a di ance, that important work, {he en<
deavoured, by variouse hys, to arrive at the gradual
term ofhis perfeétion, which feemed to be the utmoli .
elfort of her power.
This cabinet was by no means a chaos, an undi.
gelled mafs, where the objeéts, either widely fcattered,
or heaped tegether, afforded no determinate idea.
The gradations were ailfully dil pofed and preferved.
But what mohbfall favoured the arrangement,
was, that they had difcovcred a preparation, which
preferved the feveral fubjcéts from thofc, infeé ts that:
fpring from corruption.
I found myfelf oppre ed by the weight of { 0 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 ill more precious, his goodnefs!
How important a being does man appear, when,
ranging amongit thefe wonders, colleéted by his,
hands; and which {eem created for him, as he alone
has the power ofdifcerning their various properties.
That line f0 ju ly proportiened, thofe conneétions,
thof'e {eeming vacuities, but con antly lled; that
gradual order, that plan which admits of no inter-
mediate; after furveying the heavens, what ght is
more magni cent on the earth, which itfelf, at the
U 2 fume
.A
it
grA
4
¥A
I
_
i
'r
__
<_<§4_
4.
A
220 THE KING S CABINET.
fame time, is but an atom*? By what wonderful
pex feverance, I faid , have you been able to perform
f0 great a work?
It is the work of many kings, they replied;
A11 jealt us of honouring the title of an intelligent
being; a fnbiime and generous pathon, fupported by
a con ant ardor, has ini'pired them with the curio ty
of plucking o : the veil from the bo vm of natufe.
In ead of counting battles gained, towns taken by
affault, injuttice, and bloody conqnet ts ; they fay of
our kings, he made fuch a difcovery in the ocean of
beings; he accomplit hed fuch a projeéi for the good
of
"' It mu be confefl ed, that the hi ory of nature is no-
thing more than that of our own weaknefs. Ihelittle that
we know difcovcrs the ~extent of our ignorance. Phy cs
are to us what an occult fcicnce was to the ancients. We
cannot conteft fome parts ofit, but we can deny the whole.
What axiom is there peculiar to it? The projeét of a natural
hi ory is highly commendable, but it is fomewhat faftuous.
A man {pends his whole life in difcovering the lea pro-
perty ofa mineral, and dies before he has exhan ed the
fubjeét. The immen ty of obje'éts, animals, trees, and
plants, is fuf cient to awe the capacity of a ngle man.
But ought it to difcourage him? No; it is here that auda-
city is virtue, ob inacy wifdom, and preftimption utility.
We fhould watch nature {0 clofely, that (he may at laft, by
furprife, difcovet her {ecret; to nd it out feems not impor-
ble to the human mind, provided the chain of obfet'va-
tions be not interrupted,and that each phiiofopher be more
anxious for the perfcétion of fcience than for his own glo-
ry; a rare, but niecefrary facti ce, and one that points out
the real friend to man.
THE KING S CABINET. m
(if mankind; They no longer {pend a hundred' mil-
lion oflivres for the deitfuétion of their brethren in
one campaign; but employ it in augmenting their
real riches; in the encouragement of genius and in;
du ry, and by encrea ng their force, complete the
general happinefs.
There have been fecrets difcovered in all ages, by
men in appearance the moft (tupid. Many of them
have like lightning {hone for a moment only. We
are fen ble, however, that nothing is loft we with to
fave. All is laid up in the bofom of nature; we need
but fearch; it is vait, it prefents a thoqfanel refources.
Nothing is annihilated in the order (if beings. By
perpetually agitating the mafs of ideas, the moi c un-
expeéted rencounters arife*. Fully convinced of the
po i-V
* When we regard the point from which men have fet
out in their philofophical inquiries, and that to which they
are now arrived, it mutt be cotifcffed, that, with all our
machines, we do not fu icientiy extend the force of the hu-
man mind. Man, left to himfelf, feems mo re rong, than
with all thoferforeign helps, The more we acquire, the
more indolent we become, the in nite number of experi-
ments has {erved fcarce any other. purpofe thantq confe?
crate error. Content with keing, we have thought that
we touched the extremity, and have difdained tofeek fur-,
titer. Our philofophers glideover a thoufand important
ohjeéts, ofwhich they ought to give the folution. Experi-
rnentul philofophy has become an exhibition, a fort of pub;
lic legerdemain. If the experiment that hasbeenpromifed
i3 tardy or difobedient, theopemtor frequently cbrreéte it
with a touch of his nger. What do we now fee? Uncon;
U 3 ne ed'
po i-bility of the molt a oniihing 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 fynonimous word with ignorance. Sa-
gacity, labour, and patience, are the in ruments by
which nature is compelled to difcover her molt hid-
den treafures. Men have learnt to derive every fmf-
ble advantage from the gifts they have received. By
perceiving the degree to which theyrcould afeend,
they have been imulated by glory to purfue the
boundlefs career that is {at before them. The life of
a ngle man, it is [aid is too fhort; it is true; and
what have we done? we have united the force bfeach
individual; they have acquired an immenfe empire;
the one nifhed what the other began. The chain
was never interrupted, but each link clofely conneé ted
with that which went before; thus it has been ex-
tended through feveral centuries, and this chain Vof
ideas
rieéted, ufelefs difcoveries; dogmatieal philofophers, who
fa'cri ce all to their fyftems; retailers of words, who con-
found the vulgar, and excite pity" on the man who can take
the polifhed covering from offtheir jargon; The memoirs
of the academy of fciences prefent a multitude of faéts, of
ftlrprifi ng obfervations; but all thofe obfervations refemblc
a relation of fome unknown peopie, where one man only
has been, and where no one can go again. We mull be-
lieve the traveller and the philofopher, even though they
'Ihould have deceived themfelves; nor can we draw any
utility from their relations, on account of the di ance ofthe
country, and the dif culty of applying their obfervations to
any real objefts:
THE KING S CABINET. 223V
ideas and of fuece ive labour, may one .day furmundr
and embrace the univerfe. It is not mefely-a per
fonal glory, but the intene of the human race,
fcarce thought of in your. days, that fuppotts the molt
dif cult enterprifes.
We no longer amuf e ourfe lvesv With vain fyf-t
temsi . Thanks to heaven (and toyour folly'they»
are' all exhaulted. The torch of experience 2.1an
direc ts our Reps. Our end is to know the fecret
c'aufes of each appearance, and t9 extend~the do-
minion of man, by providing him with the «means
qf executing all thofe labours thatcan aggrandife his
Qxi ence.
We have certain hermits, (of one order Only)
who live in the fore s; but it is to herbalife, which
they. do by choice, and from a natural propen ty;
On certain Rated days they repair hither, to commn.
nicate their valuable difcoveries.
We have ereéled towers on the fummits offeveral
mountains, where they 'make obfervations that are
continually increa ng, and that con rm each other.
We have formed arti cial torrents ahd cataraé'ts, by
which
" Let the fabricators of (meme, pliy ml- and-meta.
phyiical, explain to me the following incident. Father
Mabillon was , in his younger days, an idiot. When he
was x and twenty, he fell with his head again a {tone
air-cafe. He was trepaned, and became a new man;
endowed with a lively imagination, aniamazing memory,
amLa zeal for Rudy rarely equalled.
.224 THE KING s CABINET.
which iskat'Cquired a force fut cient to produce the
greate ; eifeéts by motion*. We have e éblifhed
aromatic baths, to rejuvenate the bodies of thofe
who are grown rigid by age; for God has not
created {0 many falutar y plants, and given the
knowledge of their virtues to man, but to con gn to
his vigilance the care of preferving his health, and
extending the fragile and precious thread of his
days.
Our public walks, which among you feemed-
calculated for pleafure only, pay us an ufeful 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 chefnut, and the
unted elm. We engraft, and render proli c, wild
trees, that our labours may correfpond with the blifs-
ful liberality of riature, who only waits for that.
ma er s hand, to whom the Creator, {'0 t0 fay, has
fubmitted them.
We have menageries oflarge extent, for all forts
of'animals; and have found in the depths of the
forelts, feveral fpecies that were altogether unknown
to
" The moft brilliant and expenfive undertakings are not
the -moft to be admired, if they aria ereét ed merely for
o entation. The machine that raife's the water which
{upplies the gardens ofMarley, is not, in the eyes of a
wife man,» of [0 much confequcnce as a ngle wheel, turned
by a rivulet, that grinds the corn for feveral villages, or
aids, the labour of the mantifaéturer. Genius may be
powerful, but it is only great when ufeful to mankind.
THE KING S, CABINET. 225
to you; We 'miit thefe tribes to fee' the eEects they
will produce. The dichveries we have here made
are a onifhing, and highly nfeful, for the fpecies has
fometimes encreafed to twice the common zle. To
conclude, we have remarked, that our pains beftowed
on nature, have rarely been ineffeétual.
We have alfo recovered many fecrets that were
10R to you, merely for want of perfeverance in the
feareh; for you were more folicitous to heép up a
great number of words in the form of a book, than
to recover, by dint of application, eittraordinary in-
ventions. We now po 'efs, as did the ancients,
malleable glafs; the tranfparent one; the Tyrian
purple, with which the imperial robes were dyed;
the mirror of Archimides" ; the [Egyptian art of-
embalming; the machine by which they evreéted
their obelifks ; the cloth in which their 'bodies were
confumed on the funeral pile; the art of liquify-ing
Rones; the inextinguifhable lamps, nd even the
Appian fauce.
Walk into thefe gardens, where botany has re-
ceived all the perfeétion of which it was fufceptible-la
Your-
* If the modems have not precifely this mirror, they
have fomething very like it.
+ Thou, who wanderell over the elds, while thinking
on the ve 'el that plows the waves, and bears thy treu ire;
(top, {hort- ghted wretch! Thou treade upon an ob 'ure,
but falutary herb, that would communicate health and joy
{0
22.6 THE: KING S CABINET;
You ; blind philofophers complained thatthe earth
was replete with poifuns, we have difcoveted, that.
they are .the melt eH-icaciom remedies that can be
employed. Providence has here been ju i ed, as it
would be in every in ance, but for the weaknefs of
our knowledge. We now no longer hear complaints
upon the earth; no mournful voice cries out, All
is evil! We fay, that in the ght of God, All is
good ! Even the efFeéts of thefe poifone we not only
forefee, but know how to prevent.
7 We have extraéted from plants certain pene-
trating and benign juices, which, by in nuating
themfelves into the pores of the thin, mix with our:
uids, eftablifh the temperament, and render the
body more healthful, more fupple and rebut}. We
have difcovered the fecret of diil'olving the (tone
without burning the entrails. We now cure the
phth i s, and every other diforder formerly deemeck
incurable,*. But the molt excellent of all our enter-
prifcs
to thy heart; a treafure far more valuable than all thy {hip
containst After having purfued a thoufand chimeras, end
thy labours like J. J .Rou eau, by herbalizing.
" It is {hameful for a man to declare that he has a {ecret
ufeful to the human race, and referve- it for the advantage
of himfelf and his family. Alas! What recompence would
he have? Wretch! Thou maye pafs through the mid of
thy brethren, and fay to thyfelf, Thefe beings are in-
debted to me for a part of their health and felicity !" But
thou art not polle 'ed of that noble pride, nor a eé ted by
that
THE KING S CABINET. 22,7
pYiI'es was', the exterminating that dreadfu'l hydra,
that cruel and f-hameful plague, which attacked the
fotn ce of life and pleafure. The human race was
on the brink ofdef cruétion when we difcovered that
happy fpeci c, which has preferved its being and its
pleafure, {till more precious". In 'the cour fe of our
walk, the Bufon of that age joined demonftration
to words, by pointing out to me the objeéts of nature,
and'adding his'own re e ions.
.But what molt of all furprifed me, was an optical
Cabinet, where they had a(fembled all the properties
of light. It wasa perpetual fcene of magic. They
caufed to pafs before my eyes landfcapes, profpeéts,
palaces, jainbOWS, meteors, luminous cyphers,ima-
ginary feas ;' and which were more riking than even
the realities; it was the region of enchantment. The
profpeét 'of creation ri ng out of inanity could 'not
have-given me a fenfation more exqui te and a onifh-
ing.
They prefented me with a microfcope, by the aid
of which, I perceived new beings that had efcaped
the piercing ght of our obfervers. So mple and
wonderful was the art, that the eye was never
fatigued.
that benevolent idea! '60, get gold, thou mifcreant! and
debar thy foul of'that enjoyment. Thou execute jg ice,
thou punilheft thyfelf.
I am concerned when I hear any one jeft on this terrible
fcourge. We fhould never mention it without tears, and'
not'in this in ance, imitate the buffoon Voltaire.
228 THE KINe-s CABINET.
fatigued. A Every advance th:y made, fatis ed the
molt ardent curio ty; the [trunger avidity it appear-
ed to have, the more numerous were the objeéts that
prefented themfelvcs. 0! How great does man
here appear? I more than once exclaimed, and how
pitiful, comparatively, were they, whom, in my time,
they called great .
What related to aeoullics was not lefs miraculous.
They had acquired the art of imitating all the articu-
lations of the human voice, 'of the cries of animals,
and the various notes of birds. By touching certain
fprings We feemed to be in {lantly tranfported to fome
wild «fore ; where we heard the roa ngs of the lion,
the tyger and the bear, who feemed to be in con ié t
with each other. The noife rent the car. You would
have faid that the echo, {till more terrible, repeated
at a di ance thofe horrid and barbarous cries. Brit
foon the fongs of hightingales fucceeded to thofe
difcordant founds. By their harmonious organs
each
* A voluminous work might be compiled of the feveral
quellions, natural, moral, and metaphy cal, that prefent
themfelves in crowds to the mind, and about which the
man of genius knows no more than the fool; and we might
reply in one word to all thefe metaphytical, moral, and
natural quellions ; but it {hould be that of the profound
logogriph or enigma, which furrounds us. I do not del
pair but that they will one day difcover it. I expect every
thing from the human mind, When it {hall know its own
faculties, and unite them; and when it iall regard its
intelligence as a power that ought to penetrate all that is,
and fuhjeé t all that it contemplates.
4
THE _',KING s CABINET. 229
each particle'ot the air became melodious; the ear
difcerned even the ttemblings oftheir amorous wings,
and thofe tender and enchanting founds which the
voiceof man can never perfeétly imitate. To the
intoxication of pleafure-was joined the tweet furprife;
and the voluptuous ~ fenfation that arofe. from this
happy union, feized every heart.
This people, who had con antly a moral aim
even in the prodigies of art! had happily deduced
an advantage from this furpri ng invention. When
a young prince talked of combats, or difcovered a.
warlike'difpo tion*, they conduétedhim to a room
which they properly named, theiHell. The artifl;
immediately put the fprings in motion, and faluted his
ear with all the horrors ofa battle, the cries of rage
and of grief; the lamentations of the dying; the
[ounds of terror; the bellowing of that hideous
thunder which is the {ignal of de ru ion 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,
3* Ye mighty potentates, who divide the globe among
you, and are furnifhedwith cannons, mortars, and nume-
rous weapons, which are difplnyed by the dazzling ranks of
thofe armies you lend to conquer a province or exterminate
akingdom, 1 know not how it is, but amid all your waving
enfigns, you appear to me mean and wretched. The
Romans, in their public games, diverted themfelves With
the pigiuies, whom they made to combat each other, but
little thought that they were in the eye ofa Wife man, what
the dwarfs appeared to them.
X
235 THE KiNG's CAB INET.
placid, he was con ned to that room the remainder
of his days. Every morning, however, they re-
peated a piece of this mu c, that he might be fatis-
lied without the de ru ion of the human race.
The direé torof this cabinet, to my great. furprit'e,
exhibited all his infernal opera, without acquainting
me of his intention. O heavens! mercy! mercy!
I cried with all my rength, {topping my ears. 0
{pare me, {pare me! He (topped the exhibition.
How! he faid, does not this pleafe you?
None but a demon, I replied, can be pleafed with
fu-ch an horrid uproar. This, hOWever, was in
vour time a verycommon diver on, which the kings
and princes of Europe all enjoyed, as they did the
chace", which, as has been veiy ju ly remarked, is
the tfue pié ture of warJ . Your poets moreover ex-
tolled
-* Among the many calamities that now opprefs Europe,
that which I nd the moft advantageous is the depopula-
tion. Since men muf t be miferable, there are the fewer to
fu er. If this refleftion be cruel, let it fall 011 them from
whom it proceeds.
1- How {hange and deplorable13 the conflitution of our
political world! Eight or ten crowned heads hold the
human race in chains; they correfpond, they afl ord each
other mutual aid, they keep them in their royal hands to
gripe them at their pleafure, even till they produce con-
vul vemotions. This confpiracy is -not covered with a
'Veil, but is open, public, and conduéted by amha 'adors.
Our complaints no longer reach their lofty ears. Look
around through Europe; it is no other than a vafl arfenal,
where
\7
THE KING s CABINET. 23.,
tolled diam 1'01; having frightened all the birds from
the ~ <y for ten leagues round, and for. fagaciou y
providing provender for the ravens; but, above all
things,
where thoufands of barrels of powder want only a tingle
{park offne to let them111 combu ion. Frequently1! is the
hand of ahair-brained minitlerthat puts them111 explo on,
-
he fets re at once to the north and the {011111, to the two ex-
tremities of. the earth. What an immenfe quantity ofcan-
110115, mortars, mufkets, balls, bullets, vords, balloons,
&<_:..of1'1urder1ng uves, obedient to the whip ofdifcipline,
attend the orders ota cabinet, to difplay11$ bloody parade!
Geometryitfelf has profaned its divine attxibutes by 311111.
1113 the fury {ometimes of ambitious, and fometimes capri.
cious fovereigm. With hat piecihon do they de roy an
army,bon 1bard a camp, be ege or burn a city! Ihave
feen academieians in cool blood confult on the charging a
cannon. Alas! gentlemen, ay till you have at lea a
principality. What imports it you whofe name governs in
any particular country? You1: patriotifm is a falfe virtue,
and dangerous to humanity. Let- us examine a little into
the {ignitieation of the word patriot. Tohave an attachment
to any (late, it is nece afy to be a member of that Rate.
Now, if you except, two or three republics, there is, pro-
perly fpeaking, no fuch thing as a country. Wh-y {hould the
Englifhman be my enemy? I am conneéted to him by com-
merce, by the arts, and by every other 1elation pomble,
there15 no natural antipathy between 115. W hy, therefore,
would yog, that by patting certain limits, I fhould reparate
my intercft from that ofother men P What we call patriotilm
is a phantufy invented by him
t,s, 11nd de rnétive to mankind;
for, if my nationwere three times lefs than it is, I {hould
have three times as many more to l1ate,my a eé tions there-
fore mutt depend on the variable limits of dominions; in
the courfe of the fameyear, I mu defh'oy my neighbouu
A Z and
'23 2 THE KING S CABINET;
things, thofe poets were extremely fond of defcribing
a battle. Oh! I entreat you, {peak no morebf
the epidemic difeafelwhich then a iiéted the human
race. Alas! they were all feized with the fymptoms
of rage and folly; cowardly kings,from their fa uous
thrones, gave the word fer murder; and the pi1iiive
herd, gumded by one dog only, 1211 cheerfully to
the aughter. How was it poiiible to reclaim them
at that time of illu on? how break the magic talil}
man? A little club, a ribband red orblue, a fmall
enamellcd crofs, communicated every--where akfpi rit-
of intoxication and f11ry.0thers became po 'efled
by the mere ght of acockade, Or afew 'doits. The
unit neceffarily required time; but I was fully
convinced, that, {boner or later, the lenient balm
of philofophy would cicatrife all thofe [hameful
wounds*.
The
and be iends with him that I endeavoured to ma acre the
'daybefore; {0 that,1n fuét, Ionly maintain the rights of a
capricious mailer, who would hold my foul1n {ubjeétion.
No- in myjildgment, Europe {hould fo1m but one vaft
ate, and I dare to with thatit may be united under one
government. All things properly con dered, it would be
highly advantageous. Ihen I could be in reality a patriot;
but at the prefent day, whit is it we call liberty? Nothing
mme," ({ays a certain writer) than the heroifm of
tlavery. "
" What a ght! two hundred thoufand men fpread over
a vafi country, and only wait for the gnal to cut each
other s throats, to ma acre one another in the fuceof the fun
and amid the owers of the fpring. It is not hatred that
exches
THE KING S CABINET» 233
They conduéted me to the cabinet of the mathe-
matics. It appeared richly Ptored, and in the moft
perfect order. They had banifhed from this fcience
all that refembled the fport of children, all that was
merely dry and tri ing {peeulatiom or that furpaiTed
the bounds of the human capacity. I {aw machines
of every kind that were proper to ai the arm of
man, and fuch as contained mLich greater powers
than are known to us;. they were adapted to all forts
of motions; and by the aid of thefe, the heavie ;
Weights Were managed with faeility. I You have
feen, they faid, tbofe obeliiks, tl1ofe triumphal
arches, thofe palaces, and other ately buildings that
alloniih the light. They are not' the produce of
mere ltrength, ofnumbers, or dexterity: it is by the
aid of niihed machines, that they have been con-
ilruéted. In a word, I here found the greatefk
Variety of the moilaccurate in ruments for the ufe
of geometry, a ronomy, and the other fciences.
All they who had attempted experiments that;
were new, bold, mallerly, and- that promifed great
utility, even though they did not fucceed (for in-
ruétion may be gained from difappointment) had
their bulls ereéted, and decorqted with their proper
attributes.
They
excites them: no; they are commanded by kings to mur-
der each other. If this cruel event had never happened
but once, would not they who had not been witne es to it,
have had a ju right to doubt its veracity ? This thought ia,
M. Gaillard s.
X3
234 THE KING'S CABINET.
They whifpered, moreover, that many remarkable,
and even wonderful fecrets, were con ded. to the-
care of a {mail numberof their (ages? for there are
matters, good in themfelves, that may be abufed in
their _application*. The human mind, in their
opinion, was not yet fu iciently [trong to make ufe
of the mo : rare or moft powerful difcoveries without
danger 1 .
CHAP.
King Ezechias (£15 the Scripture informs us) fuppre 'ed
a,book that treated of the virtues of plants, for fear that,
by making a wrong ufe of it, they thould even create
djfeafes. The faCt is curious, and affords matter for much
re ection. I
1- What a horrible day was that for the human race ,
when a monk farmed of falt-petre a' murdering powder!
Ariotto tells us, that the devil having'invented a carabine,
tquched "by pity, threw it into a river. Alasl There is
no longer any afylum upon the earth; courage now is:
ufelefs; the artillery is in the hands of a {mall number
of men, and renders them abfolute mattere of our cx«
i ence.
E 235 J
CHAP. XXXII.
THE ACADEMY OF PAINTING.
AS the arts among this people are conneéted
not only in a gurative, but in areal fenfc; before I
had gone many Reps I found myfelf at the academy
of painting. I entered feveral large falcons, adorned
with the works of the greatef c ma ers, each ofwhich
afforded a moral and in ruétive treatife.. There was
no longer feet] that perpetual mythology, :1 thoufand
times repeated, which though ingenious in the infancy
of the art, was now become difgu ful. The mo
pleating objeéts lofe at 1213 their charms: repetition
is the language of a dunce. Thus it had happened
to all thofe grofs atteries, with which the fawniilg
painters had dei ed Lewis XIV. Time, like truth,
had devoured 211 the lying canvas ; as it hat} fent to
their proper place the in pid verfes of Boileau, and
the prologues of @inauit, the arts Were forbid to
fal fy*. There, moreover, no longer exi ed any
of
*When I fee, in the gallery of Verfailles, Lewis XIV.
with a thunderbolt in his hand, {eated upon the azure
clouds, like an avenging deity, the difdainful pity I feel for
the pencil of Lev Brun is almott re eéted on the art: but
when I confider that the painting {urvives both the thunder.
ing god, and the artift who created him, I fmile.
The rtt time Lewis XIV. {aw a Teniers, he turned
away his head with an air of difdain, and ordered it to be
removed
236 THE ACADEMY OF PAINTING.
of that order of men they called connoiffeurs, who
direéted the artiit with a golden ingot in their hands.
Genius was free, followed its own laws, and no
longer debafed itfelf.
Among thefe moral paintings there were feen no
brutal battles, no {hameful debaucheries of the fabué
lous gods, much iefs fovereigns furrounded byi vir-
tues of which they were remarkably de cient. Such-
fubjeéts only as were proper to infpire fentiments
of dignity and virtue were here exhibited. All the
pagan divinities, 'equally abfurd and fcandalous,
were avoided by the precious pencil, now de ined
to commemorate the mail important aétions; by-
which is meant thofe that give a noble idea. of man;
fuch as clemency, genero ty, perfeverance, courage,
and a difdain of luxury.
I found that they had exhibited ail thofe important
{ubjeéts that deferve to pafs down to po erity; the
greatnefs offoui confpicuous in certain {overeigns-was
in particular immortalized. I {aw Henry IV. noutiih-
ing the city he be eged; Sully {lowly counting out
a fum of money, that was de ined for his ma er s
pleafures ; Lewis XIV. on his death-bed, crying out,
1 I now nd I have been too fond of war ; Trajan
tearing his ve ment to bind up the wounds of an
unhappy
removed from the apartment. If that monarch was dif-
gufted with thofe good folks that dance and ting; if he
preferred the furious trooper {cowering through the duft
and {moke of a camp, the complexion of his mind is. ma»-
nifeft.
THE ACADEMY OF PAINTING. 2,3 7.
unhappyfzman; Marcus Aurelius defcending from
hishorfe, during a batty enterprize, to receive the
petition of a poor woman. Titus di ributing food
and remedies to the ck. St. Hilaire {tretching out
his arm and ihowing his fon, who wept, Tureiane
featjed-:amid[t the dull; .the generous Fabius putting
o'n- thebhains of a gaiiey- ave in the r'oom of his fa-
ther, é tc. Ifaw no gloomy or cruel fubjeéts. No
be ggarly courtiers here {aid with a fneer, Evert
the painters now preach! Every one acknowledged
their: merit, in having {eleéted the molt {ubiime 0b-
jeéts in human nature, that is, grand reprefentations,
of thefubj eétsot hiitory . :They had wifely deter.
mined that nothing was more important. All the,
arts had made, ('0 .to fay, a wonderfuia bciation in
favour ofhumanity. This happy agreement had.
thrown a greater lu itre 0n the {acted e igy of virtue;
it was become more adorable, and its afpeé't, always
chatming, afforded a public in tu ion, as ju : as it
Was R'riking. Alas! how is it po ible to re ll the
power, 10f the ne arts, when with 'one voice they ex-
tol and dignify the free and noble citizen?
Ail "thefe piétures attraéted the eye, as well by the
execution as by the delight Thefe painters had united
the Flemifh colouring with the Italian drawing; or
rather they had, by a profound Rudy, furpa 'ed them.
Honnuts, 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 paintings with-
out the tender gh of pieafure. The guilty dared
not
238 THE ACADEMY OF PAINTING.
not to look upon them ; they feared left thefe ani-
mated gures [hould affume a voice, aecufe, and com.
found them.
: They told me that thefe piétures were exhibited to
the people; rangers were alfo admitted ; for they
praé tifed not that mean tyranny which excludes all
who come from beyond a certain limit. Every year
they propofed four fubjeéts, that the arti might'
have time to give his' work a due degree of perfec-
tion. The mott ziifhed ea ly obtained the fuffrage
of the people; for attention was paid to the general
voice, which is commonly that of equity itfelf. The
Others, however, were fure to receive their due pora
tinn of p raife. They were far from the injti iee 0F
difeouraging the fcholar. The e abliihed ~ma er$
were void of that unworthy and bafe jealoufy which
bani ied Pou in far from his country, and caufed
Le Seur [O'Peti 'l in the ower of his day. 'They-
had'diveited themfelves of that dangerous and fatal
prejudige, which, in my time, permitted nO'fcholar
to follow any other manner than that of his matter.
They did not make in pid copyif cs of thofe who,di-
reél ed by good precepts and then left to themfelves,
would have attained the height ofrtheir profe ion.
The difcipie, in a word, did not bend under a yoke
that rendered him fpiritlefs; nor pace, with ow and'
trembling Reps, after a capricious ma er, and one
too, whom he was obliged to atter. If he proved
to be a man of genius, he went before him, and his
preceptor was the r to glory in his advancement
There.
THE ACADEMY OF PAINTING. 239
There were feveral academies of drawing, paine-
iug, fculpture, and pra ical geometry. Thefe arts,
dangerous in my age, becaufe they encouraged
luxury, pride, cupidity, and debauchery, were now
become highly ufeful, as they were only employed to
infpire fentiments of virtue, and to give to the city
that majef cy, thofe charms, that noble and mple
ta e, which by a fecret conneétion elevates the minds
of the people.
Thefe fchools were open to the public. The dif-
ciples worked under its aufpices. Evety one was
permitted to declare his opinion. This did not, how-
ever, prevent the authorifed direc tors from making a
proper infpeétion. But no fcholar was con dered as
dependent on any particular ma er, but as related
to them all in general. By avoiding the appearance
of a defpotic power, f0 fatal to a ma erly and free
genius, they were enabled to produce artif ts who had
furpa 'ed the chef-d oeuvres of antiquity. Their
paintings were f0 highly niihed, 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 profe ions
were equally free. It is only in a weak, barbarous,
and tyrannic age, that fetters are given to induftry;
that a fum of money is required of him whorwould
labour in any profe ion, in ead of affording him a,
recompence. All thofe little ludicrous corporations
{erve no other purpofe, by colleé ting a number of
people together, but to ferment their pa ions to a
more
240 THE ACADEMY OF PAINTING.
more violent degfee. A multitude of indeterminable
incidents arife from that bondage, which necet farily
zenderthem enemies to each other, So in a prifon,
men, when chained together, comm nicate their ran-
cour and, their vices. By endeavouring to prevent
pnivate intere s, they have rendered it more a ive,
which is juft the contrary to what a wife legi ature
{hould purfue. A thoufand diforders proceed from
this perpetual confiraint, by which men .are prevented
from exerci ng their particular talents. From hence
fpring idlenefs and fraud. The misfortune arifes
from the impotence of thofe who would relieve
themfelves from that deplorable Rate in which they
are held by an arm of brafs, and which nothing but
gold can relax. The monarch, to enjoy a tri ing
tribute, has de royed the mo facred liberty, and
choaked up all the fources of fpirit and indu ry.
Among thefe people, well in ru ed in the rights
of mankind, each one followed that particular em.
ploy to which his genitis led him; the ne pledge of
fuccefs. They who had no propenfity t0 the ne arts,
applied themfelves to more attainable profe io ns;
for no mediocrity is allowed in works of genius.
.The glory of the nation appears to be affeéted by
thofe talents, which di inguifh not only men, but
empires.
CHAP.
[2411
C H A P. XXXIII.
, EMBLEMA TICAL PAINTINGS-
I ENTERED a fepamte apartment, where
they had reprefented the feveral 3855- To each of
them was given, befides its natural phy ognomy,
thofe features by which it was dittinguilhed from its
brethren. The age of ignorance was clothed_in a_
black, and mournm robe. Her eyes were red and
gloomy, and in her hand fhe bore a torch. At a
d iRance was feen a funeral pile, before which Rood
prie s covered with a long veil, and human viélims,
3their eyes Iconcealed by bandages, who were deyoted
to the ames.
Further on I {aw a wild enthu a , withaut any
other m?erit than that of a hegued imagination, with
which he red thofe of his fellow citizehs, not lefs
in ammable; and by thundering forth the name of
the deity, he drew after him a Cloud of people, as a
docile heid run after the voice of the Ihepherd. Even
kings quitted their thrones, abandoned their depopu-
lated Rates, and believing they heard a voice from
heaven, facri ced themfelves, their crowns, and their
fubjeéts, in the mid , 0f vaft deferts. In the back
ground was feen Super ition {hiding over the heads
of mankind, and ihaking her murdering torch.
Gigantie mon er! her feet touched the two extra-
mities of the earth, and her arm, holding the palm
of martyrdom, was extended to the clouds.
Y Another
242 EMBLEMATICAL PAINTINGS.
Another lefs ardent but more contemplative, was
devoted to my ery and allegory, and wrapt up in the
marvellous; was conf cantly furrou nd'ed by enigmas,
and endeavouring to thicken the {hades by which he
was enveloped. There were feen the Platonic years,
numbers of Pythagoras, the verfes of the {ybils, ,the
powerful charms of magic, and thofe pre iges, fame-
times ingenious and fometimes in pid, that the mind
of man has created.
Anothenheld in his hand at: rolabe, attentiveiy
regarded the calendar, and calculated the hours .for-
cunate and unfortunate. A cold and lent gravity
was imprinted en his protraéted vifage. He turned
pale at the conjuné tion of two [ tars. The prefent
hour was nothing to him, and the future was his ex-
ecutioner. His religion was direéted by the ridicu-
lous jargon ofa roiogy, and be embraced that phan-
tom as an immoveable columm
Then appeared a gure covered with armour; his
head was enclofed in a brazen helmet, ahd in his
hand he bore a lance. He breathed nothing but n-
gie combat. The foul of this hero was more har-
dened than the Real that covered him. It was by
arms alone that right, opinion, ju ice, and truth,
Were t0 he decided. In the back ground were feen
the eld of combat,judges and heralds fupp rted the
vanquiihed, or rather the guilty.
In another part was feen a gure totally burlefqua.
A Gothic a1~c11it:é}, ereéting columns that had no
proportion
EMBLEMATICAL PAINTINGS. 243
pmpbrtion to the weight they fupported, and which
were charged with ridiculous ornaments; and thofe
he thought a re nement in building, unknown to the
Greeks or Romans. The fame irregularity was con-
fpicuous in his logic, which con i ced 0f abih aé'b
ideiis, and perpetual chicanery. At a di ance were
feen afort of eep walkers, who talked and aéted-
with their, eyes open, but, plunged in a long dream,
never conneéked two ideas, unlefs by chance.
Thus-every age fucce iveiy prefented itfclf; but the
detail wuuld be here too long. I ftood for fome time
regarding thereighteenth ,century, induced by myan-
cient conneé tion with it. It was reprefehted by the
painter under the gure of awomm. A number of
borrowed and co ly ornaments loaded her proud
and delicate head. Her neck, her aims, and break,
were covered with pearls and diamonds. Her eyes
were bright and fparkiing, but a fomewhat a ieéted
{mile gave an air of grimuce to her mouth. Her
eheeks were covered with a aming red. _Art ap-
peared to be mixed with her words, as with her
looks; they were alluring but not true. She held in
each hand a long rofe-coloured ribband, which.
feemed ornaments, but concealed two iron chains, by
which {he was rongly bound. She had, however,
liberty enough to gefticulate, t-o prance, and gamboi,
and this {he did to excefs, in order, (as it fhould feem)
to difguife her flavery, or at 16:19: to makevit more
eafy and plea ng. I examined her gure with at-
tention, and tracing the drapery of her ve merit, I
perceived that her. pompous robe was at the bottom
Y 2 in
.3;
4.
A
7144 EMB L EMA'I ICAL 'PAiNTINGSJ
in_tat-ters, and covered with dirt. He r naked feet
were'plunged in a kind of hog; her lower extremities
were as hideous as her head was brilliant. She ap-i
pearcd in this drefs not much unlike one of thofe
[trumpets who walk the {treets at the' beginning of
the night. I dif'covered behind her a number of chil-
dren, with meagre livid afpeéls, who cried to their
mother while they devoured a morfel of black bread;
She endeavoured to hide them with her robe, hm:
between the tatters thofe wretched infants {till ap-
peared. At a dil tance in the pifture were feen fuperb
palaces, buildings of marble, parterres artfully laid
out, vaftfore s peopled with deer, where the horh
re found ed from afar. But the country, half uncul-
tivated, was lled with wretched'peafants, who baa
rallied by fatigue, funk under their burthensethen
appeared men who forced away part of them to the
wars, and took from the rel} their beds and their
kettles*.
The
* Tyranny is a dangerous tree which Ihould berooted
out as {0011 as planted. The beauty of this tree is deceitful.
While young it appears crowned with owers and laurels,
bllt iS fecrétly nourifhed by blood.~ It roon grows, fpreads
its branches, and lifts its lofty head. It covers all that {ur-
rounds it with .a fa uous and deadly fhade. The neigh-
bouring fruits and owers perifh, deprived of the bene cent
rays of the fun, which it intercepts. It compels the earth
to nourifh none but itfelf. It at lalt becomes like that ve
nomous tree, whofe {weet fruit is poifon,~and that changes
the dropsni rain which dilhl from its leaves into a corro ve
uid, that gives the weary traveller at once fleep and death.
In the mean time its trunk beconiesknotty,-its {ap is changed
into
EMBLEMAT ICAL-PAINTINGS. 245 '
The charaétersof the different natidns were ex-
preffed with equal delity. By colo'urs variegated
with a thoufand mixtures, by a gloomy and melah-
choly countenance, was di inguilhed the jealous and
vindiétive Italian. In the fame i ure his thought-
ful looks difappeared in the mid& of a concert; the
painter had feized with remarkable addrefs, that;
cri s to make him become fupple in an inllant. The-
back ground contained a reprefentation of the droll'.
}el ts of pantomimes.
The Englilhman, in an attitude rather haughty'j
than majellic, Handing upon the point of a rock,
commanded the ocean, and gave to avell el the gnall
t0 vilit the new world, and bring. him back its trea-
fures. His hold looks declared that his private liberty
was equal to that of the public. Contending eets,
growling under the Grokcs of the tempell, afforded
his ear {weet harmony. His hand was con antly
ready to {size the {word of-civil war, and with a
fmile he looked edfal cr at a fcaifold, on which fell a
head and a crown.
The German, under a {ky that flafhed with light-
ning, was deaf to the roaring of the elements: it was
hard to fay whether he braved them, or was infan-
ble. His eagles tore each other by his de, which
to him was mere diveri ion. Wrapped up in himfelf
Y3 he
into hard wood, and the branches ofits brazen root are ex-
tended; the ax of liberty becomes blunt, and can mike no.
imprellion on it.
.7/
146 EMBLEMATICAL PAINTINGS.
he beheld his de iny with a philofophi'c or infen b l e
eye.
The Frenchman full of noble and elevated graces,
prefented a re ned afpeét. His gure'was not ori-
ginal, but his manner was great. Imagination and
judgment were expre 'ed in his countenance; he-
fmiled with an addrefs that feemed to approach de-
ceit. There ran through the whole of his gure
much uniformity. His colours were plea ng, but.
there was nothing of that boldnefs, nor of that ne
effeét of- lights, which were admired in the other pic-
tures. The ght was fatigued by a multiplicity of
details, that reciprocally injured each other. An
innumerab .e~ crowd bore little drums, which they
were continually heating, and thought they imitated
the roaring of cannon: It was a pa ion, as bufy and.
bei zerous, as it was weak and tran enu.
ERA. P.
C 254'? it
C H A P. XXXIV.
SCULPTURE AND ENGRAVIN G.
SCULPTURE, not lefs plea ng thanher
cider er, difplayed in turn all the wonders of her
art, which was no longer pro ituted to thofe impu-~
dent fons of wealth, Who debafed it byexecuting
reprefentations of their venal gures, or fome other
fubjeé t equally defpicable. The arti , provided fer
by the government, confecrated his talent to 'merit
and virtue only. There was not here feen, as in our-
apartments, by the de of the king s buff, the vile
tax-gatherer who deceived and defrauded him, pre-
fenting without (hame his bafe phy ngnomy. Does
a man, by advancing himfelf in a career of memora-
ble aetions become worthy of the regard of po erity ?
Does another perform fome great and valiant ex-
pioit? The animated artift then charges himfelf
with the public acknowledgment; he meditates in
private one of the moi} ma erly performances of his.
days, and, without adding the portrait of the author,
he prefently produces his work and obtains permif-
on to immortalize himfelf with the hero ; his labour
rikes every eye, and has no need of a frigid 50m-
mentary. The fculpter was exprcfsly forbid thofe
fubjefts that did not {peak to the mind, and confe-
quently the ne marble, or other matters equally
vaiuable, Were no longer wa ed.
A11 thofe licentious fubjeéts that loaded our chim-
ney pieces were riftly prohihited. Men of merit
had
248 SCULPTURE AND ENGRAVING.
had no conception of our legi ation, when they read
in hi ory that in an age which {0 frequently pronoun-
ced the words Religion and Morality, the father of
a family ihould exhibit fcenes of debauchery to the
eyes ofhis children, under pretence that they were
ma er-pieces of art; that they {hould expofe objeéts
capable ofheating the mo tranquil imagination, and
of lling young minds, open to every impre ion,
,with' diforderly ideas; they were grieved at this
public and criminal praétice of depraving the mind
before it was completely formed*.
An
"* Among other public abufes propofed to be redrefTed',
may be ranked thoie licentious {hews thato end not orily
again found morals but good fenfe, equally refpeétable.
Vthn {peaking of the theatres, we forget to mention the
tumblers and rope-dancers; but the difpo tion of. a work
is of no great moment, provided the author there includes
all his ideas. I (hall, like Montaigne, turn back upon.
every occa on; I di 'egard the cenmrc of the critics; I
atter myielf, that, at lea , I {hall not be, like' them,
difgu ful. To return then to the tumblers and rope-
dancers, {0 common and {o (hocking; {hould they be tole-
rated by humane magi rates? After having employed all
their time in exerciies equally a onifhiug and frivolous,
-they ri e theirlives in public, and tell a thoufand fpc ators,
that the death of a man is a matter of very little confe-
quence. The attitudes of thele performers are be tle inu
decent, and offend both the eye and the heart. They
perhaps alfo accu om minds not yet formed, to nd no
pleafure but in that which is attended with danger, and
to think that the life ofa man may make part of our diver-
ons. It will be faid, that this is moralizing on very
tri ing fubjefts; but 1.have remarked that thefe wretched
performanccs
SCULPTURE AND ENGRAVINCF. 2:49
An arti , to whom I applied for infor'matien,
earefully explained -to the all thefe great changes;
He told me, that in the nineteenth century there
was a great fcarcity of marble, f0 that they were
obliged to have recourfe to the heap ef nanciers,
tax-gatherers, and fecretaries butts, which were f0
many blocks in part ready prepared; they were
therefore ea ly reformed, and became nilhed pieces.
I pali'ed into the 12ft gallery, not lefs curious than
the others for the m i tiplicity 0F pieces it contaihed.
There was affembled an univerl al Colle ion of draw-
ings and engravings. Notwithl tanding the great?
improvements in the la : art, they had preferved the
works of the preceding ages; for it is not with prints~
as with books ; a book mutt be either gnhd or bad;
whereas a print, which prefents itfelf to the eye only;
may always ferve as an objeét of comparifon.
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 which
was a {mall table that could fcarce contain a dozen
arti s, and where you might go ten times before
you found a vacant place. That clofet, moreover,
was open only on certain days, in the whole {came-
a tenth part of the year. and Which [mall portion
was liable to be abridged at ariy time by the caprice
of
performances have much more in uence on the multi-,
mdc than all thofe arts that have fome appearance of raé
tiona h'ty.
25° SCULPTURE AND ENGRAVING.
of the direétor. Thefe galleries were open every
day, and committed to the care of polite a iftants,
who were punétually paid, that they might {erve the
public with the fame puné tuality. In this fpacious
room, you' were fure to nd a print of each painting
and fculpture contained in the other galleries; it pre-
fented an abridgment of thofe chef-d- oeuvres, which
they had laboured to immortalize, and to diffufe to
the greatell degree po lble.
Engraving is as fruitful and happy as printing;
it has the advantage Of multiplying its imprellion, as
printing does its copies; and by that means every
private perfon, every ranger, may procure a rival
copy of a painting. All the' inhabitants decorate,
without jealoufy, their walls with thefe intere ing
fuhje s, which reprefent examples of Virtue and he-
roifm. iWe no longer fee thofe pretended connoifs
feurs, n0 lefs futile than ignorant, who purfue an
imaginary perfeéllon' at the expence of their eafe and
their wealth, conftantly liable to be duped, and to
which they were remarkably difpofed.
I ran over with avidity th'ofe voluminous works in
which the engraver had defcribed, with f0 much
facility and preci on, not only the contours, but the
colours of nature; all thepaintings were exprefTed
to perfeé tiou; but what had molt engaged their at
tention were thofe objeé ts that relate to the arts and
fciences. The plates of the_Enc yclopedia\had been
entirely re-engraved, and they had more carefully at-
tended to that rigorous preci on whichis their chief
merit,
SCULPTURE AND ENGRAVING. 25 I
merit, as the leai t error is of the highel t confequence.
I obierved a magni cent courfe of~natural philofophy
treated in the fame manner; and as that fci ence is,
in a peculiar manner, the objec t of the fenfes, it is
by the gures relative to it, that, perhaps, we
attain jull: ideas of all its parts. An art that a 'ords
{0 many ufeful fuhje s is deferving of higheiteem,
and they had here given it freih marks of con dera-
thD.
I obferved, that all was executed in true ta e;
that they followed the manner of Gerrard Audran,
and which they, had improved by carrying it to the,
highelt degree of perfeétion polliblc. The flourifhcs
in books were no longer called cochins; and many-
Other like miferable phrafes were abolilhed l . V
The engravers had de fled from the ufe of that
pernicious glafs, whichdellroyed their ght entirely.
The connoi 'eurs of this age were no admirers of
thofe little points in which all the merit of modern
engraving con lts; they preferred large, free, regular
(trckes, that exprelled every thing with certain
touches that were jul c and nobly de gned. The
engraver readily coni'ulted the painter, who, in his
turn, avoided a e irtg the caprice of a malter.
They e eemed ene another, they lived together as
friends and equals, and Were far from re et ting the
faults of any work on each other. Engi avinngas,
moreover,
* M. Voltaire {hould be {atis ed before-hand; he, who
has to long pleaded for this importantreformation.
252 THE HALL OF AUDIENCE;
moreover, become of great advantage to the Rate,
by the commerce of prints with foreigners, [0 that of
thefe arti s it may be faid, that under their propitious
hands copper becomes gold.
C H A P. XXXV.
THE HALL OF AUDIENCE;
I COULD not quit thefe rich galleries with.
out the greatef t regret ; but my infatiable curio ty,
that would leave nothing unfeen, carried me into the
eentre of the city. I few 3. great multitude, com.-
pofed of each fex, and of every age, that ocked with
precipitation toward a portal that was magni cently
decorated. I heard from differcm parts, Let us
make haf ce! our good king has! perhaps, already
mounted his throne ; we {hall {carce fee him afcend
it to-day. I followed the crowd, but was much
a enifhed to nd that there were no ferocious guards
to beat back the thtonging people. I came to a
moi c fpaciuus hall, fupported by many columns; I
advanced, and at 1'4ch came near to the monarch s
throne. No; It is impo ible to conceive an idea of
royal majefty more pleating, more atigul t, more
graceful and engaging. I was melted, even to tear s.
I {'aw no thundering Jupiter, novterrible apparatus,
no inih uments oi'vengeance. Four gures of white
marble, reprefenting fortitude, temperance, ju ice,
I and
THE HALL OF AUDIENCE. 253
and clemency, fuppdrted a plain armed chair of
white ivory, which was elevated mereiy to extend the
'voice. The chair was éi owned with a canopy, {up-
ported by a hand, the arm of which {eemed to come
out ofthe vaulted roof. On each {ide 0f the throne
there were two tables ; on one tide was engraved the
law of the Rate, and the limits of the royal authority;
and on the other, the duties ofkings and of fubjec ts.
In front was a woman {tickling a child; a faithful
emblem ofroyalty. The tirft {tep to the throne, was
in the form of a tomb. Upon it was wrote in large
charaéters, ETERNITY. Under this {tep repofed
the emhulmed body of the 1219c monarch, there to
remain till deplaced by his fon. From thence he
cried to his heirs, that they were all mortal; that the
dream ofroyaity was near nifhed; that then nothing
would remain to them but their renown.
This vaPc place was already ned with people,
when I {aw the monarch approach,c10thed in a blue
mantle that gracefully HOWed behind him; his fore-
head was bound with :1 branch ofolive,'th:1t was his
diadem; he never appeared in public without this
refpet table ornament, which was revered by others
and by himfelf. There were-lcud acelamatinhs
when he mounted the throne, and he did not appear
infen bie to the cries ofjoy. Scarce was he feated,
when an awful file ice was fpread over the whoie
afTembly. I lil cened with attention. His mini ers
read to him, with :1 loud voice, an account of every
thing remarkable that had pn cd fince the 1216:
audienee. If the math had been difguifed, the peo-
Z pie
254 THE HALL OF AUDIENCE.
ple were there to confound the dctraétor. Their
demands were not forgot. An account was-render-
ed'of the execution of orders before given. This
reading always concluded with the daily price of
prpvi ons and merchandize. The monarch hears,
and apprqves by a nod, or refers the matter to a
more minute examination. But if from the bottom
0fthe hallthere (hould be heard a voice complaining,
or condemning any one article,thongh it were that of
the meane : citizen, he is brought forward to a little
circle formed, before the. throne; there he explains
his ideasw ; and it he appear to be right, he is at-
tended to, applauded, and thanked; the fovereign
regards him With a favourable afpeét; but if, on the
contrary, he advances nothing to the purpofe, or
what appears plainly to be founded on private ad-
Vantage, he is difmified with difgmce, and the boots
of the people follow him to the door. Every man
may prefent himfelf without any other apprehen on
than that ofincurring the public deri on, if what he
propofe be unjufl or felf-interei ced.
Two
fl It is en'e of the greater} misfortunes in France, that
the police and admitti rationi ofall affairs is direéterl entirely
by the magitlrates, by men invetled with a place and a
title! who never deign to confult (at leaf: on the part of the
public) private perfons that are frequently endowed with
knowledge and zgncity to an eminent degree. The moft
worthy and accomplifhed tirizen cannot (lifplay his ufeful
talents and the dignity ot hisfentiments; unlefs pofl'etl ed of
a public employment; he mutt [title his noble de gns, be
a witnefs t0 the mull flxgt'zuit ubufes, and he lent.
"
THE HALL OF AUDIENCE. 255
Two principal o icers of the c'rown accompany
the monarch in all public ceremonies, and wall; by
his tide; the one carries, on the point of a fpear, an
ear of corn, and the other a branch of the vine*,
which ferve conttantly to remind him that they areithe
tvro {upports of the Rate and the throne. He is fol-
lowed by the pantler 0f the crown, bearing a bafket
ofloaves, which he di ributes to every one that alks.
This bafket is the fure thermometer of the public
di xefs; and when it is found empty, the mini ers
are difmi 'ed and punilhed; the hafket, however,
cont tantly remains full, and declares the public
profperity.
This augu : fe ion is held every week, and la s
three hours. I went from the hall with-a heart
lled with complacency, and with the profou nde :
refpeét for this Imonarch, whom I loved as a father,
and revered as a proteéting divinity.
I converfed with feveral perfons on all that I had
feen and heard; they were {urprifed at my atlonifh-
ment; all thefe things feemed to them quite mple
and natural. Why, faid one of them, will
you have the i afhnefs to compare the prefent time
to} an extravagant and capricious age; that enter-
tained fal : ideas of the molt fimple matters, when
pride
" The emperor Tati-{ung walking in the country, and
feeing a number of peafants at work, {aid to his fun, who
attended him, Without the fweat and labour of thefemen,
neither you nor 1 {hould have any empire.
Z2
Ame
And
anus
A_L
ghu
m
-
255 THE ,HALL OF AUDIENCE.
pride was greatnefs, when fplendot and o entai
tion were all, and when virtue was regarded as a
phantom, the mere imagination of dreaming phi-
10fophers*.,
C H A P. XXXVI.
THE FORJM' 0F GOVERNJWENT.
Il/IAY I all: what is the pretest form of go-
vernment? Is it monarchical, democratic, or ari o-
cratic It is neither of them; it is rational, and
made for man. Monarchy is no more. Monarchical
governments, as you knew, though to little purpofe,
.lofe themfelves in defpotifm, as the rivers are lo : in
the bofom of the ocean; and defpatifm {con {inks
under
* V\7e {honld pay a refpett to popular prejudices! is the
language of narroiv and putillanitnous fouls, to whom the
mere xi ence of :1 law is t ieient to make it (acted. Does
the man of vittue, to whom alone it belongs to love or
hate, acknowledge this criminal moderatibn? No; he
charges himfelf with the public vengeance, his right is
founded on his genius, and the ju ice of his caufe on the
acknowledgment of potlerity.
1- The genius ofa nation does not depend on the atmo-
{phere that lrrounds it; the climate is not the phy cal
caufe ofits grandeur or debafement. Force and courage
belong to all the people of the earth; but the caufes that
put;
THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 257
under its own \veight*. This has been all literally
accomplithed, and never was there a more certain
prophecy.
When
put them in motion and fuftain them, are derived from
certain cit cumitaces, that are fometimes fudden, fometimes
{low in their operations; but, {ooner or later, they never
fail to arrive. Happy are the people who, by information
or by in inét, feize the cri s!
4 Would you know what are the general principles that
habitually prevail in the councils ofa monarch? here fol-
lows the fubftzuice of what is there done. Taxes of every
kind thould be multiplied, for the prince can never be rich
enough, contidering that he is obliged to maintain armies
and the of cers of his hottihold, who ought, by all means,
to be extremely magni cent. If the people complain of
thefe loads they do wrong, and mull be curbed.
No inju ice can be done them, for in reality they have no-
thing but what the good will of the prince gives them, and
which he may take again whenever he [hall think t, efpe<
cially if the intercft or {plendor of his Crown require it.
Be de, it is notorious, that a people at their eafe, and in
the midit of plenty, become lefs laborious, and may become
inl olent. We thould therefore retrench their profpet'ity
that we may add to their fubmillion. The poverty of the
iubjeé t is for ever the th'ongelt rampart of a monarch; and
the poorer the individuals are, the more obedient the nation
will be. Once taught to tbmir, they will perform it by
habit, which is the moft certain method of being obeyed.
It is not fu icient that they merely fubmit, they lhould be
taught to believe that the {pirit ofwifdom here prelides in
the highett perfef tion and fubmit accordingly, Without
Z 3 during
253 THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT;
When we confider the lights that have been ac:
quired, it wouid doubtlefs be a difgrace to the human
race, to have meafured the dittance between the fun
and the earth, to have weighed the heavenly orbs,
and not to have difcovered thofe mple and ef ca-
cious laws by which mankind {hould be governed.
It is true, that pride, luxury, and feif intereit pro-
duce a thoufand obttaeles; but how glorious is it to
difcover the means of making thofe private pa ions
fubfervient to the general good ! The veiiel that
plows the ocean commands the elements at the fame
moment that it is obedient to their empire; {'ubmif-
ve to a double impuife, it inceffantly re-aéts againit
them. You there fee, perhaps, the moi t lively image
of
daring to difpute about the decrees that proceed from our
infallible knowledge.
Ifa phiiofopher {hould have accefs to this prince, and
advancing to the midft of his council, {houid fay to him,
Take heed how you give credit to thefe evil counfcilors;
you are {tlrrounded by the enemies of your family: your
grandeur and fecurity are founded lets on an arbitrary
power than on the love of your people. Ifthey are un-
happy they will the more ardently with for a revolution,
and will (hLike either your throne or that of your Children.
The people are immortal but you mutt pars away. The
maje y of the throne refides more in a truly paternal ten-
dernefs, than in an unlimited power; that power is violent,
and contrary to the order ofuamre. By being more mo-
derate, you will become more potent. Set an example of
juttice, and know that it is by morality alone that a prince
becomes powerful and rei t vé tablc. This philoiopher
would certainly be taken for an cnthufiafi, and perhaps
they would not even vouchfafe to punil'h him for his Virtue,
THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 25-9
of a Rate; borne up by tempeituous pa ions, it re-
ceives from them its movements, and at the fame
time re tts the orm. The art. of the pilot is all.
Your political light was nothing more than a cre-
pufcle; and you wretchedly complained of the Au-
thor of nature, at the fame time that he had given
you both intelligence and {trength for government.
There only wanted a loud voice to roufe the multi-
tude from their lethargy. If oppre ion thundered
on your heads, you ought to have accufed your own
weaknefs only. Liberty and happinefs appertain to
thofe who dare to feize them. All is revolution in
this world; the mo happy of all has had its point
of maturity, and we have gathered its fruits*.
Freed from oppre ion, we have taken care not
to place all the rength and fpriugs of government,
all the rights and attributes of power, in the hands
of one mau-f. In ruéted by the misfortunes of pa :
ages,
* In certain {tales it is an epoch that becomes necefi'ary;
an epoch terrible and bloody, but the gnal ot liberty. It
is of a civil war that I {peak It is that calis forth all the
men of exalted genius, fome to attack, and others to defend
liberty. A civil war difplztys the mott hidden talents. Men
of wonderful abilities arif'e, and appear worthy to command
the human race. It is a horrid remedy! But in the upor
of a Rate when the minds of men are plunged in a deep
lethargy, it becomes nece hry.
+ A defpotic government is nothing more than a league
between a {overeign and a (mail number of favourite fub-
jeéts, in order to cheat and plunder the raft. In that cafe
the
26¢ THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT.
ages, we are become lefs imprudent. lfSocrates or
Marcus Aurelius {hould again vi t the earth, we
fhould not con de to them, an arbitrary pOWer; not
from a miftruft, but from a fear of depreciating the
facred charaéter of a free citizen. Is not the law the
voice of the general will of the people? And how
can we dare to commit f0 important a depo t to a
ngle man? Has he not his unguarded moments?
And, even fuppo ng him to be free from them, {hall
men i'e gm that liberty which is their mo : valuable
inheritance *.
We
the monarch or he that reprefems him, divides and de roys
fociety, becomes a {epzirate and central hody, that lights up
every pzi ion as it lifts, and fets them in motion fer ll'S per-
fonal intereft. He creates juftice and injuflice, his humour
becomes a law, and his fav our the meuiure of public elteem.
This fy em is too Violent to be durable. ju ice, 0n the
contrary, is a barrier that equally proteéts the hibjeét and
the prince. Liberty alone can form animated cmzene, the
only citizens, in faé t, iamong rational beings. A king is
never powerful but at me head of a free and contented
people. The nation once debated, the throne (inks.
* Liberty begets miracles, it triumphs over nature, it
caufes hzu'velts to grow upon rocks; it gives a fmiling air to
the mofl (lolet ul regions; it enlightens the peufant, and
makes him more penetrative than the proud ll h'eh of the
mutt (IMJlllllf'd court. Othei climates, the mutt tinifhed
works of the cremiun, delivered up 10 krvimde, exhibit
nothing but Llefol'tuel lands, pale and dejected vilhges, that
dare not lift their eyes to heaven. Choofe then, man! be
happy at anlbrtlble; if yet it be in th): Power to choefe '.
tear tyranny, detell ilavcry, arm thyfelt, live free, or die,
THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 2'6;
We have experienced how contrary 1.11 abfolute
fovereignty is to the true intereit of a nation. The
art of railing re ned tributes, all the powers of that:
terrible machine progrellix'ely multiplied; the em.
barrallment of the laws , or e oppo ng :inother ; chi-
canery devouring the poife ions of individuals; the
cities crowded by privileged tyrants; the venality of
of ces; minillers and intendunts treating the differ!-
ent parts of the kingdom as conquered countries; a
fubtle hardnefs of heart that julli es inhumanity;
royal o icers, who are in no degree refponfible t0
the people, and who infult them, inftead of li ening to
their complaints; fuch was the e 'eét of that vigilant
defpotifm which collcfted every intelligence, to emé
ploy it; to a bad pupcfe; not unlike thofe burning
glafles that collet t the lm s rays, to deltroy fuch ob:
jeéts, as are prefented to them. When we pafled
through France, that ne kingdom which nature has
favoured with her propitious regards, what did we
behold? Difhiét; de ilated by tax gatherers; cities
become boroughs, and boroughs villages; the people
pale and meagre; in a Word, beggars inltead of in,
habitants. All thefe evils were known; but evident
principles were avoided to embrace a fyitem of dii2
pation", and the {hadows that were raifed, au-
thori-fed the general depreciation.
Can
4* An intendant of the province, de rous of giving the
H , :1 ho was going to Soi ons, an idea of the abundance
that reigned in France, caufed the fruit trees 0fthe country
round about to be dug up, and planted in the Xlteets of the
city,
262 THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT.
Can you believe it? The revolution was eff'eéled
Without; trouble, and by'the he: Vifm of one great:
man. A philofophic prince, worthy of a throne, be-
caufe be regarded it with indifference; more foli-
citous for the happinefs of mankind than fat the
phantom ofpower, di ru ing po etity, and di 'ruft-
inghimfelf, offered to put the e atesrof the nation in
poife ion of their ahcient prerogatives; he was fen-
ble that in an exten ve kingdom there fhould be an
union of the different provinces in order: to its being
well governed; as in the human body be de the
general circulation, each part has one that is peculi-
arly adapted to itfelf; f0 each province, while it obeys
the general laws, modi es thofe that are peculiar to
it, agreeable to its foil, its po tion, its commerce and
refpeé tive interefts. Hence all lives, all ouriihes.
The provinces are no longer devoted to ferve the
court and ornament the capital*. A blind order
from
city, by digging up the pavement. Thefe trees he decorated
with garlands of gilt paper. This intendant was, without
knowing it, a very great painter.
* From error and ignoronce {pring all the evils that op-
prefshumanity. Man is wicked only becaufe he mi akes
his true intereft. In fpeculative phy cs, in aflronomy, and
mathematics, we may err without any real detriment; but
politics will not admit of the lealt error. There are vices
in government more defh uétive than natural plagues. . An
error of this kind depopulates and impoverifhesakingdom.
If the mo fevere, the mo profound fpeculation is eyer ne-
cetfary, it is in thofe public and problematic cafes, Where
teafoné of equal weight hold the judgment in equilibrium.
Nothing
THE FORM OF GOVERNMENTs, 253
fm mthe throne, does not carry troubles into thbfe
parts where the king s eye has never penetrated.
Each province is the guardian of its oinn fecurity
and its own happinefs; its principle of life is not.
too far di ant from it; it. is within itfelf, always
ready to aHiIt the whole, and to remedy evils that
may arife. The prefent fuc cours are left to thofe who
are intru zed in its welfare, and will not palliate the
cure; much lefs will they rejoice'at thofe incidents
that may weaken their country
The abfolute {overeignty is now abolifhed; the
chief magif trate preferves the name of king; but he
does not foolifhly attempt to bear all that burden
Which oppreiTed his anee ort. The legi ative power
of the kingdom is lodged in the Gates afTembled.
The adminii tration of affairs, as well political as
civil,
Nothing is then more dangerous than the tricks of of ce;
they prqduce inconceivable errors; and the (late is not
{En ble of its condition till arrived on the brink of ruin.
We cannot, therefore, be too clear in the complicated art
of government, as theleaft deviationisa line that con antly
recedes as It ineleafes, and produces an immenfe error.
Thelaws have been hitherto nothing more than palliatives,
that have been turned into general remedies; they are, as
has been vcry jtiftly (aid, the o iqu ing of neceiTry, and not
of philot ophy; it belongs to the latter to correc't their de-
fefts. But what courage, what zeal, what love of hu-
manity muff he have, who, from le}: a chaos, [hall form
a regular fytiem! int, at the fame time, where is the
man that would be more dear tu the human race? Let him
remember, that it is of all ehjeéts the mail important; that
the happinefs of mankind, and conieqttently their virtues;
are therein highly iuterc od.
Q64 THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT;
civil, is a igned to the fenate; and the monarch,
armed- with the fwordof jultice, watches over the
execution of the laws. He propofes every ufeful
ellablifhment. The fenate is refpon ble to the king,
and the king and fenate are refpon ble to the Rates;
which are aifembled every two years. All is there
decidedi by the majority of voices. The enaé ting of
new laws, the lling of vacant pof'ts, and the re-
dre ing ofgrievances, appertain to them ; particular,
or unforefeen cafes are left to the wifdom of the
monarch.
He is happy", and' his throne is xed upon a
haiis the more folid, as hiscrown is guaranteed by
the liberty of the nationi. Thofe fouls,_that-wou1d
have
"' M. d Alembert fays, thatua king who does his duty
is of all men the molt miferable; and that he who does it
not, is of all others the moft'to he~pitied. But why is the
king who does his duty the mo miferable B Is it from the
multiplicity of his labours? No; a happy labour is a real
pleafuru Does he make no account of that inward fatise
faétion which arifes from aconfcioufnefs of having pro
moted the happinefs ofmunkind? Does he not believe that
virtue is its own reward? Beloved by all except the wicked,
can the heart of {itch a king be infenlible to pleafnre P Who
has not felt the fatisfaétion that refults from doing good?
The king who does not ful l his duty is the molt to be
pitied. Nothing more true, efpecially if he be fenlible to
remorfe and infamy; if he be not, he is ihll more to be
pitied. Nothing more juft than this lalt propolition.
* It is goodinevery flute, even in a republic, to huve'a
limited chief. It is. a fort of fpcé tre, that drives away all
I [relies 5
THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 26;
have been but mean, owe their virtue to that internal
fource of greatnefs. The citizen is not fepnrated
from the ltate; he is incorporated with it*, and, in
return, he {hows with what zeal he exerts himfelf,
in all that can interelt its glory.
Every aft publiihed by the fenate, explains, in a
few words, its origin and its delign. We cannot
conceive how it was po ible in your age, that pre-
tended fo much difcernment, for magiltrates to dare,
in their furly pride, to publilh dogmatic arrets, like
the decrees of the theologians. As if the law was
not the public reafon, or it was not necelTary that
the people fliould be inl trué ted, in order to their more
ready obedience. Thofe ancient magiltrates, who
called themfelves the fathers of their country, mul c
have been ignorant of the great art of perfila on;
that art which aéts {o powerfully, and without
labour; or rather, they mul t have had no xed
point of view, no determinate courfe, but {ome-
ti mes riotous aml feditious, and fometimes creep-
ing flaves, they attered or harafl'ed the throne: by
turns
projects from the mind ofthe ambitions. Royalty in this
cafe is like a fcare-crow in a eld, that prevents the birds
from feeding upon the com.
* They who have faid, that in a monarchy, the king is
the depo tory of the will of the people, have afierted an
abfurdity. There is, in faét, nothing more ridiculous,
than for intelligent beings, like men, to fay to one or more,
Will for us, the people have always faid to their
monarch; Aé t for m, after you have clearly underflood
what is our will,
A21
266 THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT.
turns wrangling for tri es, and felling the people for
a bribe.
You Will readily believe that we have difcarded
thofe magiftrates, accultomed from their youth to all
that infen blity which is neceffary coolly to difpof
of the property, the honour, and lives of their fellow-
citizens. Bold in defence of their meaneft privileges,
carelefs of what concerned the public welfare, they
funk at left into a perpetual indolence, and even
{pared others the trouble of corrupting them. Very
different are our m tgiftrates; the title of fathers of
their country, with which we honour them, they merit
in the fulle : extent of the term.
The reilis of government are now committed to
vtife and refolute hands, that purfue a regular plan.
The laws reign, and no man is above them; which
was a horrid evil in your Gothic government. The
general good of the nation is founded on the fecurity
of each individval. No one fears man, but the laws;
the fovereign himfelf is fentible that they hang over
his heada . His vigilance renders the fenators more
* Every government where one man alone is above the
laws, and can violate them with impunity, mutt be iniqui-
tous and unhappy. 1n vain has a man of genius employed
all his talents to make us acquiefce in the principles of an
Aliatic government: they offer too great violence to human
nature. Behold the proud ve el that plows the ocean,
there needs but an imperceptible pa age to admit the water
and canfe her perdition. So one man that is above the law,
may
THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 267
attentive to their feverztl duties; the con dence he
repofes in them foftens their labours, and his authority
gives the nece hry force and aetivity to their deci ons.
Thus the fceptre, which oppreHEd your kings, is light
in the hands of our monarch. He is not a vié tim
pompou y decorated, and inceffalitly a facri ce to
the exigencies ofthe Rate; he hears that burthen only
which is proportioned to the limited rength he has
received from nature.
We have a prince that fears the Almighty, that
is pious and jut}, whofe heart is devoted to God and
his country, Who dreads the divine vengeance, and
the cenfure of po erity, and who regards a good
confcience, and a fpotlefs fame, as the higheft de-
gree of felicity. It is not f0 much great talents, or
an
may caufc thofe axis of inju 'ice and iniquity to enter at flute,
which, by an inevitable effeft, will lullen its ruin. \Vhitt
matters it whether we perifh by one or many? The mif
fortune is the fame. \Vhat imports it whether tyranny
have a hundred arms, or one only, that extends itielfovcr
the whole empire ; ifit fall on every individual, if it (pring
out fre i at the very inflant it is cut off? Bc de,it is not
defpotifm that terri es and confounds; it is its propagation.
The viziers, the pachas, &c. imitate their matters; they
devour others while they e'xpeft to be devoured. In the
government of Europe, their fhocks, the multaneous re-
aftion of their feveral bodies, affords moments of equili-
brium, during which the people breathe ; the limits of
their refpeétive powers, perpetually diforderecl, holds the
place of liberty; and the phantom is, at leat't confolatory
to thofe who cannot attain the reality.
Aaz
268 THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT.
an exten ve knowledge, that does good, as the
ncere de le of an upright heart that loves it,
and wi ies to accomplifh it. Frequently the boaft-
ed genius of a monarch, far from advancing the
happinefs of a kingdom, is exerted in de roying its
liberties.
We have conciliated what feemed almo incom-
patible, the good of the nation with that of indi»
viduals. They even pretended that: the general
happinefs of a Rate was nece 'arily di iné t from that
t,t"fome of its members. We have not efpoufed
that barbarous policy, founded either on an ignorance
of juft laws, or on a contempt of the pooreft, but
mc ; ufeful men in the Rate. There were cruel and
dcte able laws that fuppofed men to be wicked; but
we are much difpofed to believe that they have
eniy become {0 nce the in itution of thofe laws .
Arbitrary power has griped the human heart, and
by its irritation has rendered it en amed and ulce-
rated.
Our monarch has every neceWary power and
opportunity to do good, but is pretiented from do-
ing evil. We reprefent the nation to him always
in a favourable light; we difplay its valour, its
delity toward its prince, and its hatred of a foreign
yoke.
There are cenfors who have the right of ex-
pelling from about the prince all who are inclined to
irreligion,
THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 269
irreligion, to licentioufnefs, to falfehood, and' to that
baneful art of covering virtue with ridicule*. We
donot admit amongi t us that clafs ofmen, who, under
the title of obility (which, to render it completely
ridiculous, was venal) crawled about the throne,
and would follow no other profe ion than that of a
foldier or courtiers; who lived in idlenefs, fed their
pride with oid parchments,and difplayed a deplorable
fpeétacle of equal vanity and mifery. Your grena-
diers fhed their blood with as much intrepidity as the
moft noble among them, without rating it at {0 high
a price. Such a denomination, moreover, in our
republic would give offence to the other orders of
the Rate. Our citizens are all equal; the only
di inaiotts we know are thofe which naturally
arife among men from their virtue, their genius, and
induitry'f.
Be des
" I am much inclined to believe that fovereigns are almoit
always the motl: hone men in their courts. The foul of
Narci 'us was ill more foul than that ofNero.
1- Why cannot the French [utter a republican govern-
ment? Who in this kingdom is ignorant of the pre-emi-
nence ofthe noble 'e, founded on the in itution itfelf, and
con rmed by the cuttom of many ages? Yet when under
the reign of John, the third e ate rofe from their abjeét
condition, they took their {eat in the a embly ofthe nation;
that haughty and barbarous noblefl e beheld it without com-
motion, affociate with the orders of the kingdom, though
the times were {till lled with prejudices of the police of
the efs, and the profe ion of arms. The honour ofthe
French nation, a principle ever aftive, and fuperior to the
A a 3 wiieft
270 THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT.
Be des all thofe ramparts, thofe barriers, and
V 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 thir , and eeps
upon the ground. This fevet e and falutary fail im-
prints on his heart the mo t tender commiferatiou
towards the nece itous. Our fovereign, it is true,
has no need ofthis penance to remind him; but it is
a law of the Rate, a facred law, con antly followed
and refpeéted. By the example of our monarch,
every man who has any conneétion with govern-
ment, makes it his duty to feel what is want; and
is from thence more difpofed to a if c thofe who are
obliged to fubmit to the imperious and cruel law of
extreme nece ity"*.
But
wifeft in itittions, may therefore one day become the foul
ofa republic; efpecially when a ta e for philofophy, a
knowledge of political laws, and_tl1e experience of f0 many
evils, {hall have deflroyed that levity, that indifct etion
which blu s thofe brilliant qualities that would make the
French the r people in the univerfe; ifthey would well
con der, ripen, and fupport their projefts.
* In the front of a philofopher s hermitage there was a
rich and lofty mountain, favoured with the molt benign
regards of the fun. It was covered with beautiful pa ures,
with golden grain, with cedars and aromatic plants. Birds,
the melt pleating to the ght, and delicious to the tulle,
fanned the air in ocks with their wings, and lled it with
their harmonious warblings. The bounding deer peopled
the
THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 27;-
But, I {aid that thefe changes mull have been long,
laborious, and dif cult. What efforts you muft have
made! The philofopher with a plea ng fmile, re-
plied, ' Good is not more dif cult than evil. The,
human pa ions are frightful ob aclcs; but when the
mind is once convinced of its true intereft, the man
becomes juit and faithful. It feems to me that a
ngle perfon might govern the world, if the hearts
ofmen were difpofed to toleration and equity. Not-
with auding the common inconfequence of thofe of
your
the woods. Some genial lakes produced in their {ilvcr
waters the trout, the perch, and dace. Three hundred
familes were fpread over this mountain, and there
found a bleft abode, in the mid of peace and plenty, and
in the bofom of thofe virtues they con antly praftifed : each
mom and eve they fent 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 the earth.
The beauteous mountain was ieized by his vizier, a noble
robber, who {ea ed his dogs, his concubines, and his at-
terms with the plunder of the unhappy people. Ohnttn
one day lo ng himfelfin the chace, met the philofopher,
whore hut had efcaped that torrent which hadrfweptallelfé
before it. The philofopher recollefted the monarch, with-
out his fufpeéting it: he treated him with a noble courtefy.
They talked of the prefcnt times. » Alas! fetid the fage
old man, we knew what pleafure was fome ten years tince;
but now all fu 'ers ; extreme poverty has drove the poor
from their habitations; wri ngs their fouls, and each day
fees them go drooping t0 the grave, oppre ed by extreme
milery." Pray tell the, {aid the monarch, what is that
mifet'y t The philofopher ghed, remained lent, and {et
the prince in the way to his palace.
272 rm}: HEIR TO THE THRONE.
your age, it was forefeen that reafon would one day
make a great progrefs; its e 'eéts havebeeome vi -
ble, and the happy principles of a wife government
have been the r ; fruits of its reformation.
I
I
I
I
C H A P. XXXVII.
THE HEIR TO THE THRONE.
MORE inqui tive than was ever the bailiff
of Huron*, I continued to exercife the patience of
my companions. I have feen themonarch on his
throne, but I forgot to afk, Gentlemen, where was
the king s fon; whom in my time they called the
dauphih. One of the melt polite among them re-
plied:
As we are convinced that it is on the education
of the great that depends the happinefs 0f the people,
and that virtue is learned as vice is communicated,
we watch with the greateft af duity over the early
years of our princes. The heir to the thrgn e is not
at court, where fome atterers would dare to per-
fuade him that he is fomething more than other me..,
and that they are lefs than infeéts. His high defliny
lS
The Huron, or the Candid Man, a romance by Vol-
falFC, and one of the belt his pen has produced. . The Hu-
ron con ned in the Bu ile with a Janfeni , is of all things
in the world the melt happily imagined.
THE HEIR TO THE I HRONE.~ 273
is carefully concealed from him. When he is born,
a royal mark is imprinted on his fhoulder, by which
he is afterwards known. He is placed in the hands of
thefe whol e difereet delity 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
women he is inured to 'exercife; and regard is had to
his natural education, which {hould always precede
the moral. He is cloathed like the fan ofa common
peafant; he is accu omed to the plainelt meats; and
is early taught i'obriety; he will be the better able
hereafter to teach oeconomy by his own example,
and to know that a falfe prodigality ruins a Rate,
and difhonours thofe that promote it. He travels,
fucceffively through all the provinces; they explain.
to him the various labours of the hufbandman, the
different manufaé tures, and the produétions of the
feveral foils; he fees all things with his own eyes; he'
enters the hut of the ploughman, eats at his table,
a i s in his labours, and learns to refpeét him. He
converfes freely with every man he meets; his cha-
raéter is fuff'ered to difplay itfelf freely, while he
thinks himfelf as far difiant from the throne as he is
near to it.
Many kings have become tyrants, not becaufe
they had bad hearts, but becaufc they never knew the
real
/ '
274 THE HEIR TO THE THRONE.
real {late of the common people of their country".
If we were to abandon a young prince to the atter
ing idea of a certain power, perhaps ei'en with a vir-
tuous mind, con dering the unhappy difpo tion of
the human heart, he would at 13% endeavour to ex-
tend the limits of his authority 1a For in that it is
that many princes unhappily make the royal gran-
deur to con it; and confequemly their interef t is
always at variance with that of the people.
When the prince has attained the age of twenty
years, or fooner, if his mind appears to be early
formed, he is conduéted to the hall of audience; he
mixes with the crowd as a common fpeétator; all
the orders of the Rate are then pt'efent, and all have
received their in rué tions. On a fudden the king
rifes,
' Prejudice con antly attends the throne, ready to pour
its errors into the ears of kings. limorous Truth is in
doubt of obtaining a viétory over them, and waits for the
gnal to approach; but {he {peaks {0 {irange a language,
that they turn to thofe deceitful phantoms that are mailers
OFthe common dialeé t. Kings! learn the fevere philofo-
phic language of truth! It is in vain that you feek her, if
you underftand her not.
+ Men have a natural difpo tion to arbitrary power, as
nothing is more convenient than to be obeyed by merely
moving the tongue. Every one has heard of that fultan
who commanded his attendants to amufe him with enter-
taining ories, on pain of being (irangled. Other monarchs
hold pretty much the fame language, when they lay to the
paci c, Divert me, and die with hunger.
THE HEIR-TO THE THRONE. 275
rifes, and calls the young man three timesiby his
name; the crowds of people open; attonifhed, he ad.
vances with timid Reps toward the throne, and trem-
bling mounts the Reps; the king embraces him, nd
declares him in the ght of all the people to be his
fon. Heaven, he fays with an a eéting and ma-
je ic voice, Heaven has deftined thee to bear the
burden of royalty; we have laboured for twenty
years to render thee worthy of it; do not frufirate
the hopes of this great people that you fee before
you. My fan, I expeé t from you the fame zeal that
I have fhown for this nation. What a ctitis!
what a crowd of ideas prefs upon his mind! The
monarch then {hows him the tomb where tells the
preceding king; that tomb on which is engraved in
large charat ters, ETERNITY. He proceeds with
the fame awful voice; My fon, all has been done
for this moment. You now {land on the afhes of
your grandfather; in you he is to revive; fwear
to he jut t as he was. I [hall foon defcend to fupply
his place; but remember that I {hall accufe you
from this tomb if you abufe your power. Ah!
my dear fon, the eyes of the Almighty and of this
nation are upon you; no one thought can be con-
cealed. If any incitements to ambition or pride
reign at this moment in your heart, there is yet
time to avoid their e eéts; renounce the diadem
defeend from the throne, and mix again with the:
people; you will be greater and more refheétable
as a common citizen, than as a vain and da ardly
monarch. Let not the chimera of authority at-
ter your young heart, but the great and pleating
idea.
176 THE HEIR TO THE THRONE.
idea of being really ufeful to mankind; I promife
you for recompence the, love of this people that
furrounds us; of my a 'eé tion, the efteem of the
world, and the a iftance of the Monarch of the
univerfe; it is he that is King, my (on, we are only
his agents, that are {ent upon the earth to accom-
plifh his great de gns*.
The young prince is furprifed and a eéted, his
vifage is covered with a modett (hame; he dares not
look upon that great aITembly, whole regards are
eagerly xed on him. His tears begin to how; ue
weeps at the profpeét of his exten ve duties; but
foon an heroic fpirit po effes him; he is taught that
a great man ought to facri ce 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 depo ted with him,that
he is enabled to do that for them which nature has
refuted. That noble idea penetrates, animates, Iri-
ames him; the oaths are admini ered to him by 1115
father; he calls the facred :Ifhes of his grandfather
to witnefs his neetity; he adores the Supreme Be-
ing;
* Garnier caufes it to he {aid to Nabuchedono er, puffed
up with his power and his viétories, Who is that God
who commands the rain, the winds and the tempefts iOver
whom reigns he? Over the feas, the rocks, &c. To
which he replies, Infen ble fubjeéts! I command over
men; I am the only God of this earth where we dwell.
Inferg élexfujru! moi je command: aux hommex;
?efui: 1 unique Dieu de la terre ou nauxfommcx.
2
THE HEXR TO THE THRONE. 277
ing; he is crowned. The orders of-the Rate {alute
him; and the people with tranfports of joy cry out,
O tho u that art taken from amongft us, whom
we have fo long and f0 hearly beheld, may the pre-
Pciges 0f greatnefs never make thee forget who thou
art, and who we are*.
He cannot mount'the throne, till'the age oftwo
and twenty; for it is repugnant to common fenfe,
that va nation fhould be governed by an infant king.
For a like reafon the king lays down thevfceptre at
the age of feventy years, becaufe the art ofgoveming
requires an aétivity of body, and at certain fenfibility,
which unlucky age extinguiihes in the human
mind 1 Befide, we are fearful let} habit fhould pro-
duce in his mind that concentrated ambition they
'call avarice, which is the 13.1% and molt rueful pamon
that
* The Greeks and Romans experienced fenfations far
more poignant than ours. A religion altogether kn ble;
thote frequent occurrences that concerned the grand interett
of the republic; a {late dignity that was awful without
being fafiuous; the acclumations of the people; the a em-
blies of the nation, and the public harangues ; what an in-
exhau ible fource of pleafures! When compared with
thofe people, we feem but to languifh, or {curce t0 exifl.
+ How pleating is it when years have whitened our heads,
to be able to retire, and re eft on thofe aéls of humanity
Aand bene cénce that we have performed in the courfe of
our days! Of all that we now are there will then nought
remain but the fentation of having been virtuous, or the
{hame and torment of vice.
Bl)
178 THE HEIR TO THE THRONE.
that man has to encounter *. _ The inheritance is in
the line direét, and the feptuagenary monarch [till
ferves the Rate by his councils, or by the example of
his putt virtues. The time between the public ac-
knowledgment of the prince, iind the day of his ma-
jority, is (till fubjet t to new proofs. They confiantly
talk to him by {irong gud fen ble images. If they
would prove, that kings are not otherwife formed
than Icommon men; that they have not a hair m'jre
on their heads; that they are equally weak at their
entrance into this world; equal in in rmities, and
equal in the ght of God, and that the fuffrege of
the people is the {01: ba s of their grandeur; they
introduce by way of diver on, a young porter of his
ze and age, and they wrePtle together; though the
king s {on be vigorous, he is commonly overcome;
the other continues the attack till the prince is forced
to own the defeat. They raife him up, and fay to
him, You fee that no man by the law of nature
ought to fubmit to another, that no man is born 3.
Have; that monarchs are born men, and not kings;
in a word, that the human race were not created for
the pleafure of fome particular families. That even
the Almighty, according to the natural law, would
not govern by force, but over the free-will. To en-
deavour therefore to make men Haves, is to aét with
temerity
" Prodigality is equally to be feared. A young prince
"rill {ometimes refute, becanfe he has that in him which may
atone for refufal; but :he old man con antly contents, be-
caufe he has nothing to fupply. the vacuity ofthe want of
liberality;
THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. 279
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
deS, I may be {h'onger than you, but there is
neither right riot glory in that; true Rrength is
equity, and true glory greatnefs of mind. I render
you homage as my fovereign, and the depo tory
of the force of every individual; when any one
, would tyrannize oyer me, it is to you I mutt y
for fuccour; you will then hear and fave me {mm
the tmjuPc and powerful. . . . . .
If the young p rih ee commits any remarkable
fault or impxuden'ce, the next day he fees it in the
public papers* ; he is fometimes a onifhed a'nd
'o ended. They aaner him coolly, It is 'a faith:
ll and vigilant ttibunal, that records each day the
aéiions of princés. Po erity will know andjudge
all that you have {aid and d'me; it depends on
yo rfelf t0 m ke them {peak honoui'ably of you.
If the young prince re eét, and acknowledge his
fault, then the papers of the next day declare that
token of a happy charaéter, and give to the noble
éiétion' all the eulogy it deferves-f.
But
* I could with that a prince had fometimes the cnrio ty
to know what the people think of him; he would learn
enough in :1 quarter of an hour to afford him matter of re ec-
tion all the reft of his life.
+ You fa y, I fear not the {word ofman. I am brave."
But you deceive yotlrlelf. To be truly brave you mutt
B b 2 fear
230 THE HEIR TO THE THRONE.
But what they moi c rongly recommend, and
itnprefs on him by multiplied images, is a horror of
that vain pageantry, 'which has de royed {0 many
ates, and difhonoured to many bvére ign . Thofe
gilded palaces, fay they, are like the decorations of
a theatre, where paper. appears to be main gold.
The child imagines that itbeholds a real palace. Be
not a child. Pump and o entation are abufes, in-
troduced by pride anl policy. They difplay that
parade to infpite the greater refpeét and fear. By
that means the {ubjeét' contraéts a ferviie difpc tion,
and becomes ac'cu omed to the yoke. But is a king
ever debated by putting himfelf on a level with his
fubje s? What are thofe ince 'ant empty fhews, in
comparifon with that open and affable manner that
attraéts the affeétions of all the people to his perform?
The Wants of a monarch are not lefs than thofe of
the meane of his fubjeéts. There is no difference
between his Itomach and that of a clown, fays J. J.
Rouifeau. If he WOLtid mite the pure of all plea-
fures, let him tatte that of being beloved, and let him
render himfelf worthy of itf. T
{l 0
fear neither their tongues nor their pens. But in this cafe,
the greate ; kings of the earth have ever been the greate
poltroons. The Gazette of Am erdam prevented Louis
XIV. from eeping.
* That luimry, which is the caufe of the de t u ion of
Rates, and that tramples under {001 every virtue, takes its
fource from corrupted hearts, and which all others copy
after.
1" Duke " of Wirtemberg, the fir of that name, was
dining with a {overeign prince, his neighbour, and fome
- othe
THE. HEIR To THE THRONE. 23;
To conclude: there paffes no day on which he
is not reminded of the exi ence of a fuprcme Being,~
whofe eye con antly furveys this world ; of the duty
that he owes him, of a reverence for'his providence;
and a con dence in his in nite vsifdom. The molt.
horrid of_all beings is without dOubt an athei ica l
king: I had far rather be in a veffel toffed by the
tempeit, and direéted by a drunken pilot; I fhould at
leait have a chance to be 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 {end in quell of
a foreign wife, who frequently brings from her
country a difpo tion, which being widelyditferent
from the manners of our nation, ha ardizes the blood
of France, and caufes us to be governed by Spaniards
tor Italians; rather than by the defcendants of our
brave ance ors. Our hing does not offer that inful t
to a Whole nation, to imagineithat beauty and virtue
arevto be found in a foreign foil only. She who, in
the courfe of hisjourneys, has touched hisheart, and
has loved him without a diadem, mounts the throne
with
other petty potentates, each of whom was talking of his
forces and power. After hearing all their pretentious, the
Duke faid, I do not envy any one ofyou that power which
God has given you, but there is one thing of which I Can
boa ,"which is, that in my little ate 1 can walk at ail
hours alone, and in fecurity. I ramble among the woods,
I lay me down to ecp under Tome tree, quite unconcern-
eci, for I fear neither the {word of a robber, nor of an in.
jured Iubjeét:
Bbg
/ f
282 THE HEIR, TO THE THRONE.
with__her lover, and becomes clear and refpec table to
the nation, as well from her own virtues, as for
having been able to ,pleafe a hero. Be de the ad-
vantage ofinfpiring all the young women with a love
ofwifdom and virtue, by fetting before them a recom-
pence worthy of their efForts, we hereby zfvoid all
thofe family wars, that are abfolutely foreign to the
intere of the Rate, and that have {0 often defolated
Europe*.
On the day of his marriage, infiead of foolifhly
fquandering money in pompous and tirefome fea s,
in fenfelefsand guady mews, in re-works, and other
expences equally extravagant and difgu ful, the
prince ereéts fome public monument, as a bridge, am
aquedut t, a public road, a canal,ora theatre. This
monument bears his name. We rememberhis bane»
faétion, while thofe irratiom profu ons. are forgot,
or only remembered by the horrid. accidents they
occa oned-lj. Thepeople, fatis ed with the- gene-
ro ty'
* Mo of our wars have proceeded, as every one knows,
from thofe alliances that are pretended to be political. }f
indeed Europe and Africa could efpoufe Alia and America,
well and good.
1* Shall I here recall the horrible night of the 30th of
March, 1770? It will eternally accufe om poiice, that is
favourable to the rich alone, and that protefls the barharous
luxury of carriagesq'f. It Was by them that horrid difafter
was
$1 Carriages are far more dangcrous in Paris than London.
as they drive nmch falter, and there is no leparate Path fan.
Loot gaffengcrs.
THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. 283
ro ty of their prince, are under no temptation to
whifper to eachother that ancient fable, in Which the
poor frog laments in his marih the ght; of the
nuptials of the furl".
CHAP.
was occa oned. But ifthis dreadful accident has produced
no {triét ordinance by which the citizens may walk the
reets without danger, what are we to expeEt of other evils
thutare more deeply rooted, and more dif ucult to remedy?
Near eight hundred perfons perifhed by being crowded
together, and x weeks after it was not inentioned.
* I met, in a piece of poetry, with thefe verfes:
Cr: roi-s tnnrgueilli: d: Izur grandeurfupréme,
thom d3: meridians qua cautwe mz diadéme.
Thete puf fed-up monarchs, with their mighty grandeur,
.are nothing more than beggars covered with acrown.
In faél, they are craving incetTantly: it is the people that
pay for the robes of the pompous bride; for the fea s, the
re-works, the embroidery of the nuptial bed, &c. and
when the royal babe is born, each one of its cries is me-
tamorphofed into a new tax.
1:284]
C H A P. XXXVIII'.
THE WOMEN.
MY affable and polite in ruétor continued
in the fame free manner. You {hould know that
our women have no other portion than their virtue
and their charms; they are, therefore, interefted in
improving their moral faculties. By this roke of
legi ation we have deltroyed the hydra, Coquetry,
fo fruitful of contention, of vices and ridiculet
How! no portion? the women bring nothing with
them P and who will niarry them ? " Women have
no portion, becaufe they are bynature dependant on
that fex from whom they derive their {trength and
glory, and that nothing may with-holdthem from
that legitimate empire, which is con antly lefs fer-
rible than the yoke they give themfelves in their fatal
liberty. Be des, the confequence 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 {eems to do her hufband a favour by accepting
him*. Every man is bound to provide for his wife;
and
' An Athenian lady afked a Lacedemonian. what portion
{he brought her hufband? Chaftity, {he repliedql.
Tit is no uncommon thing for a modern lady to bring her
hufbamd this' portion, though {he may chance to difpofe of i:
afterwards for her own private cmolumem.
THE WOMEN. 285
and fhe, depending entirely on her hulband, is the
better difpofed to delity and obedience. The law
being\univerfal, no one can complain. The women
have no other di in iotl than what is re eéted on
them by their hufbands. Cdnf tantly fubmiflive~ to
the duties that their {ex requires, their honour is to
ohferve the riét laws that refult from them, by which
alone they can fecure their happinefs.
Every citizen that has not defamed himfeh ,
though he {honld be of the lowef t clafs, may claim a
daughter of the highei t, provided {he iconfent, and
there be no feduétion or difproportion o age. Every
one refumes the primitive equality of nature in form-
ing a contraét f0 pure, {0 free, and fo nece 'ary to
our happinefs, as is that of matrimony. There
ends the bounds of paternal poww", and that of
civil authority. Our marriages are fortunate, be-
cailfe intereft, which corrupts all things, does not
foil
* How indecent, how mon rous is it, to fee a father ap-
peal to twenty tribunals, animated by a barbarous pride
that will not let him give his daughter to a man, becaufe
he had fecretly de ined her for another. He dares, in this
cafe, to cite civil ordinances, while he forgets the mo :
facred laws of nature, which forbids him to opprefs an un.
fortunate daughter, over whom he has no legitimate autho-
rity, but what may conduce to her happinefs. It is a re-
markable and melancholy circum ance, that in this age
the number of bad parents has exceeded that of unnatural
children. Where is the fource of this evil? Alas! in
ourlaws.
286 THE WOMEN.
foil theiramiable hands. You cannot ea ly imagine
how many vices and foibles, fuch as flander, jealoufy,
idlenefs, the pride of excelling a rival, crimes ofevei'y
kind, have been banifhed by this mple law *. VVO-
men, inltead of exerci ng their vanity, have culti-
vated their minds; and in lieu ofriches, have fumifhed
themfelves with gentlenefs, modelly, and patience.
Mulic and dancing no longer form their principal
accomplifhments; they have vouehfafed to learn the
arts of ozconomy, of plea mg their hufbands, and
educating their children. .That extreme inequality
of rank anal fortune, the molt deftruétive vice in every
political fociety, is here no longer feet); the meanélt
citizen has no reafon to blufh at his condition; he
a 'ociates with the highe , who difdains not his
conneétion. The law has equalled mankind to thc
greate ; degree in its power; in ead of creating
thofe injurious diltinétions, that produce nothing but
pride on one tide, and hatred 0n the. other, it has
been folieitnus to dellroy all thofe obl tacles that
might divide the children of the fame mother.
Our wives are, what were thofe of the ancient
Gaul s, hhcere and amiable companions whom we
fEfpeEt and confult on all occalions. They do not
alfeé t that miferablejzirgon {0 much in vogue among
you
* Nature has deftined women to domellic employments,
and to cares every where of the fame kind. They have
much lefs variety in their charatlers than have men; almult
all women refe'm'ble each other; they have but one end,
and which they manitelt in every country by milar e eéts.
THE WOMEN. 287
you, and which they called Wit*. They do not bufy
themfelves with a 'igning the rank due to the feveral
forts of genius; they are content With good fen t, a
quali cation far preferable to thofe arti cial Hallies
that are the wretched amufements of idlenefs. Love,
the fruitful fource of the molt excellent virtues, pre-_
tides over, and guards the interel c of our country.
The more happinefs we enjoy in her bofom, the more
dear {he becomes. Judge then what is our attach-
ment to her. The women, doubtlefs, make a pain of
this felicity. In ead of thofe empty and faltidious
pleafures, which they purfued from vanity, they now
enjoy all our tendernefs and e eem, and nd a feli-
city more folid and more pure in the po 'e ion of
our hearts, than in thofe tran ent pleafures, whofe
very purfuit was attended with anxiety.. Charged
with the care of fuperintending the rft years of our
children, they have no other preceptors; for being
more fzgacious and vigilant than they were in your
days, they are more fen ble 0f the delicious pleafure
of being mothers in the full extent'ofthe term.
But, I (aid, notwi-thltanding all your improvements,
man is [till man, liable to weaknefs, humour, arid
difgu .
* A woma_n_ fhcws very little diferetion, who is de rous
of {hewing hcr wit upon every occa on. She ought, on
the contrary, to ufe all her art to conceal it. In faCt, what
is it we men look after? Ihnocence, candour, (implicity,
ti uth, an interetling timidity. A woman that difplays her
wit fecms to fay to you, Sir, adtlt els yourfelf to me; I
am a woman of wit; 1 {hall be more pcr dions, perverfe,
and artful than anothexn
288 THE WOMEN.
difguft. If Difcord, with her torch, {hould take the
place of Hymen, what do you them? Are divorces
permitted*?- f§ Doubtlefs, when they are founded
on
* Nicholas I. ere ting himfelfinto the reformer of the
lziws divine, natural, and civil, abrogated divorces in the
ninth century. They were then in Life among all the peo-
ple of the earth, authorifed by Jews and Chrif tians. How
range is the lot of human kind ? One man alone has de-
prived them of a precious liberty; of a civil contraét has
made a facredindill oluble chain, and for ever fomented do-
me ic variance. Many patt ages have given to that foolith
and whim cal law an inviolable {anétiom and thofe intef-
tine wars that dittraét the domettic (economy and promote
the depopulation of (lates, are the fruits of the eaprice of a
pontiff. It is evident, that were divorces permitted, mar
riages would be more happqu . We {hould be lets fearful
of forming a comma, when we knew that it could not bind
us to mifery. The wife would be more attentive and fub-
mi ive. The durability of the band depending on the will
of the parties bound, would become more ftrong'. Populat
tion, moreover, being far below its true andard, it is to
the
1 There are no divorces permitted in France, not even in
cafe of the molt agrant adultery. They," fays the lordly
?rieit, whom God, that is, I and my church, has put to-
gethcr, no man can put afunder. The only refource for the
hufband is to PCK lI JO the king; and it, by great chance, he
have intereft fuf cicnt, the wife is fent to a convent; where
{he will yafs her time difagrceably enough, if the be not able
to bribe the Cerberus at the door, which they fay. is not un-
frequently done. I remember a lady of the rlt quality, who
was tent to a mona ery, and early the next morning, the good
ahbefs came to her bed- de, and gave her a long leéture on the
fubjcét uf incontinence. - The gallant all the while lay {mfg
under the bed clothes,
I
THE WOMEN. 289'
on legitimate reaf ons; as when hothrparti'es, {or ex-
ample, folicit a divorce at'the fame time; an incom-
patibility ofhumours is fu icient to diflblye 'the band».
People marry only to be happy. It is a. contraét of
which peace and mutual regard fhould be the end.
We are not f0 fenfelefs as to force two people to live
together, whofe hearts are ettranged from each other,
and thereby to renew the punifhment of the cruel
Mezentius, who fattened a living' body to a loath-
fome carcafe. A divorce is the only eligible remedy,
as it at leaft renders to fociety two perfons that are
loft by their ccnne ion with each other. But (would
you belieye it?) the greater the facility is, the more
averfe they are to pro t by it, as there is a fort of
difhonour in not being able to bear together the
ttoubles of a tratifient life. Our women. virtuous by
principle, are delighted with dome ic pleafures. Ve
are always happy when our duty coincides with our
de t es; nothing is then difficult, all things hear u
pleating afpeét.
0 hot.
the indi olubility of marriages that we ought to attribute
the {ecrct caute of that evil which undermines the catholic
monzirchies. If it t hould be tolerated for any con dei able
time longer, and celzbacy {hould continue to prevail among
them, (the fruit ofa wretched adminiflration) together with
the eccle a ic celibacy which feems to be of right divine,
they will have none but cnervated troops to oppofe the nu»
merous, healthful, and robutl armies of thofe people who
permit divorces. The fewer ngle people there are in it
Hate, the more cha c, happy, and lruitful marriages will
be. The diminution of the human race necell urily- tends to
the total ruin of an empire.
Cc
29¢. THE WOMEN.
0 how unfortunateI am to be {'0 old! I exelaime d;
I would immediately marry one of thefe amiable
women. Ours were {0 haughty and infolcnt, and, for
the molt part f0 faithlefs, {o badly educated, that
marriage was regarded as an egregious folly. Co-
quetry, with an immoderate love of pleafure, and an
abfolute unconcern for every thing but themfelves,
compofed the charaéler of a woman of my time.
They derideizl all fort of fen hility, and had {carce
any humanity but towards their gnllants. Every talie
but that ofluxury was in a manner a f cranger to their
minds. I {peak not of modefly, for that was elleemed
ridiculous. Therefore, a prudent man being to
choofe of two evils, preferred celibacy as the lealt.
The dif culty of bringing a child up, was an argu-
ment not lel s rong. Men avoided giving children
to a {late that would load them with diilrefs. So the
generous elephant, once made captive, refufes to in
dulgc himfelf in the molt plea ng initine'l, that he
may not entail avery (,n his po ez ity. The hulband
himfeli , in the midft of his anxiety, watched an 0p-
portunity of getting rid of a child, as we endeavour
to drive away a voracious animal. Human beings
fled from each other, as their union necell arily re-
doubled their mifery; the wretched virgim, xed
to the foil where they were born, languifhed like
owers, that, fcorched by the Fun, turn pale, and drop
from their llalks; the greater {art carried with them,
even to the grave, the dei ire of being wives; difgufl:
and anxiety embittered every moment of their days;
and they could not procure any atonement for that
pxivntinn, but by the rill; of their honour, and the
10h;
THE WOMEN. 291
lofs of their health. In ihort, the number of tingle
perfons was hecomc frightfully great; anal, to com-
plete the mifery, reafon feemed to jullify that outrage
to humanity*. But proceed, that you may comfort
me by defcribing a plea ng pié cure of your manners?
How were you ablelto drive away that plague, which
threatened to devour the human race?-
My guide raifed his voice, and, with an animated
dignity, faid, lifting his eyes to heaven, O God, if
man is unhappy, it is by his own fault; it is becaufe
he {huns {ociety, and con nes all his cares to himfelf.
Our indu ry is confumed on futile ohjeéls; and thofe
that would enrich us we negleét. By forming man
for fociety, Providence has placed~by our misfortunes
thofelaids that are dellined to relieve them. What
ronger obligation is there than mutually to allifl:
each other ? Is it not the general de ie of mankind?
Why then does he {0 frequently millake his interell?
I repeat
*' A tafle for celibacy will begin to prevail when a go
vernment is become as bad :is it po ibly can be. rThe
citizen detached from the mofl plea ng couneélion, will
infen bly detach himfelf from the love of life itfelf; {uicidc
will be frequent; the art of living will become {0 painful,
that exiflence itfelfwill be a burden. Nlen can bear all the
phylicul evils united; but the political evils are a hundred
times more horrible, becaufe they are not necefl ury. Man
curfes that fociety which ought to alleviate his pains and
break his fetters. They reckoned at Paris, in the year
1 769, one hundred and l ortyJ even perfons who put an end
to their own lives.
Ccz
292 THE WOMEN.
I repeat it; our women are wives and mothers;
and from thofe two virtues all others are derived.
They would diihonour themfelves, were they to d_aub
their faces with paint, or Rut? their heads with fnufF,
or debauch their (tomach with drams; if they were
to t up all night, or ng licenticus fongs, or praétife
the lealt indecency with men. They have more
certain attraétions; gentlenefs, mode y, the native
graces, {1nd that noble decency, which are their inhe-
ritance, and their true glory".
Theyfuckle their own children without think.
ing it a labour; and as it is done without affe-étation,
their milk is pure and plentiful. The body of the
\child is early invigorated; he is taught to fwim, t0
hurl, and to carry burdens. The bodily education
appears to us of importance; we form his con itu~
tion before we exercife his mind, which fhould not be
hat of a parrot, but that of a man.
His mother watches over the morning of his
tiling thoughts; the re eéts on the method to be
purfued in forming his mind to virtue; how {he {hall
turn his fen bility into humanity, his pride mto
greatnefs of foul, and his curio ty into a knowleclge
of fublime truths. She meditates on thnfe engaging
fables the {hall ufe, not to conceal the truth, but to
render
3 While the women govern in France, while all things
are made to conform to their ta e, while they judge ofthe
genius and merit of men, the French will never have that
ability, that (age occonomy, that gravity, nor that nervous
cham er which becomes free men.
THE WOMEN. 293
render it more amiable; that its lul tre may not
dazzle the weaknefs of his inexperien'ced mind; the
carefully weighs all her words and aétions,-7that no
one of them may make a bad impre ion on his
heart. Thus {he preferires him from that breath of
vice, by which the ower of innocence is {0 {uddenly
withered.
Education differs among us according to the
Ration the child is hereafter to hold in foeiety; for
though we are delivered from the yoke of pedantry,
it would be {till ridiculous to teach him what he mutt
hereafter forget. Each nrt-is unfathomable, and to
excel in it requires our whole attention. The mind
of man, notwith anding all thofe aids recently dif-
covered, miracles apart, is not able to embrace more
than one ohje '; it is fuflicient for him to attach
himfelf Ilrongly to that, without attempting excur-
ons that cannot but dittraét him. It was the ridi-
cule of your age to endeavour to be univerfal; we
regard it as a madnefs.
In a more advanced age, when his mind is able
to di inguilh thofe conneétions by which he is united
to fociety, then in ead of that futile knowledge with
which4heminds of youth are indiferiminately load-
ed, his mother with that natural and tender elo-
quence peculiar to women, teaches him what are
manners, decency, virtue. She makes choice of that
Tea in, when nature, dreffed in all her fplendor, fpeaks.
to the molt infen ble heart, when the genial breath
of fpring has decorated the groves, the elds, and.
CC 3 forefts,
294 THE WOMEN.
forells, with all their ornaments. My fon, 'ihe
PAYS, pre ing him to her maternal bofomh behold
thefe verdant elds, thefe trees adorned with fpread-
ing branches; it is not long nce, that, deprived of
all their ornaments, they wexe congealed 'by that
cold which pierces the inward parts of the earth;
; but there is a gracious Being, who is our common
Parent, and who never abandons his children; he
- dwells in heaven, and from {hence beholds', with
C! the kindnefs of a father, all his creatures. At the
! moment that he niles, the fun darts its rays, the
trees ourilh, the earth is crowned with owers,
and with herbs for the nourifhment of thofe bea s
« whofe milk we drink. And why do. we {0 love
'the Lord? Hear, O my child! 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 con-
ceuled from you. Eternity, for which every im-
v-mortal foul was created, will alford thee an end-
le s proce ion ofvjoyiand wonder. His power and.
goodnefs know no bounds; he loves us, becaufe
we are his children; from day to day he will {how
us greater kindnefs, if we are virtuous, that 19, 1f
we obey his laws. 0! my fun, how can me but adore
i and blefs his name! At thefe words, the mother
and the child fall pro rate, and their united prayers
afcend together to the throne rot the Almighty
'II:
" Cebes reprefcnts impoftureas tting at the gate that
leads to life, and obliging all who prefent themfelves to
drink of the cup of error. That cup is fuperfhtion. Happy
arc they vxho only tafle it, and then throw the vcffel away,
THE WGMEN. 295
It is thus that {he po e 'es him with the idea of
a God, that {he noujrifhes his foul with the milk of
of truth,.and that {he fays to herfelf, . I will ful l
the will of the Creator who has committed him to
my care. I will be fevere to thofe baneful pa ions
that may injure his happinefs; to the temdernefs
ofrva mother I will unite the unwearied vigilance of
a friend.
You have feen at what age he is initiated to the
communion of the two in nities. Such is our edu-
cation; it is, as you fee, altogether fentiinental; we
detel c that jeering wit, which was the molt terrible
fcourge of your age; it dried up, it burned all it-
touched; its b'uf fooneries were the fource of all your.
vices. But, ifafrivolous difpo tion be {0 dangerous,
what is reafon itfelf without fentiment? A meagre
frame, without colour, without grace, and almolt
without life. What are new, and even profound
ideas, if they have nothing animating and a ec ling?
What need have I of a cold truth that chills my
blood? It lofes its force and its etteé t. It is in the
heart that truth difplays its charms and its power;
We cherifh that eloquence which abounds in lively
and riking piélures; it is that gives wings of re
to our thought; it fees and Rrikes the objeét; it be-
comes attached to it, becaufe the plea tre of being
afFeé ted isjoined to that of being enlightened .
Our
* We rec_kon more on exterior manners, that is, upon
euflom, than on any thing elfe, for which reafon it is that
we
296 THE WOMEN.
Our philofophyytherefore, is not fevere; and
why fhould it be {0 9 Why not crown it with owers ?
Are difgul tful or mournful ideas more honourable
to virtue than thofe that are pleating and falutéry ?'
We think, that leafure, proceeding from a'bene-
cent h:incl,~ is not fen: upon earthte make u; (him
its approach. 7 Pleafure is not a mdniter; it is?- as
Young fays, virtue under a géyer title. ' Far :from
endeavduring to deltroy the pallions, the invi ble
movers of our being, we regard them as precious
gifts that we '{h-ould care illy oeconomife. Happy
is the man endOWed with {trong pallionsytheyform
his glory, his grandeur, and his opulence. A wife
men among us cultivates his mind, difcards his pre-
judices, and acquires ufeful and agreeable'l'ciences;
All the arts that can extend hisjudgment and render
it more'difcerning, are exercifed and improved by
his mind; that done,'he attends to the voice of nature
ohl'y,
we negleé t education. The ancients treated ea eh fubjeft in.
a manner altogether fentimental, and threw on thefciences I
know not what allurement, the fecret of which'is loft to
us. The genius of the modems is conflanlly defeé tive for
want of fentiment. The molt happy talents are become
callous underthe fertile ofpedantry. Is there in the world
a more ridiculous inflitution than that of' our colleges,
when we compare their dry and lifelefs maxims with the
public education the Greeks gave their youth, ornamenting
wifdom with all thofe attraétions which charm that tender
age B Our preceptors ahpear like ravage maflers ; it is no
wonder, therefore, that their difciples are the r to avoid.
and y from them.
THE WOMEN. 297
only, fubjeé t to the law of reafon, and reafon direéts
him to happinefs*.
* The warmth of the pallions is not the caufe of our
irregularities; the furious, ungovemahle courier, that runs
away with the bad rider, that throws and tramples him under
foot, is obedient to the bridle under the direétion ofa {kil
ful matter; and gains the prize in a glorious courfe. The
weaknels of paf ons difcovers a poverty of nature. What,
in faél, is that heavy, lent citizen, whofe in pid foul is
void of all fen bility; who is peaceful, becaufe he is in-
capable of aetion; who vegetates, and fu ers himfelfto
be ea ly led by the magi rate, becaufe he has no defires?
Is he a man, or a flame? Place by him a man full oflively
fentiments, who rides upon the impetuotity of his pailious.
He tears off the veil from the fciences; he will commit
faults, and he will difplay his genius. An enemy to repofe,
and thirlling after knowledge, he will draw from the com-
motions of the world a luminous and {ublime fpirit that
will enlighten his country ; he will a o'rd, perhaps, occa on
for cenfure ; but he will have exerted all the energy of his
foul ; the {pots in his charafter will difappear, becaufe he
will be greatly ufeful to mankind.
C HA P.
[298]
C H A P. XXXIX.
THE TAXES *.
TELL me, I befeech you, how are your
public taxes levied? for let-the legi ature be as
perfeét as it may, taxes, I think, mull; always be
paid.
' My friends hear this apologue. Toward the beginning
of the world there was a vaft fm'ef t of Citron trees, that
bore the mott beautiful, large and pleafant fruit. The
branches bent under their burthens, and the air far round
was embalmed with their fragrant odour. Theimpetuous
Winds chanced to blow down feveral citrons, and to break
fome 9f the branches: certain travellers pafiing that Way,
quenched their thirtt with the juice of the fruit, and C210
away the rind. This accident induced the race of Citron-
trees to choofe guardians, who were to drive away patien-
gers, and to inclofe the foreft with high walls, to oppofe the
fury of the winds. Thefe guardians appeared at rtt faithful
and di ntere ed, butthey foon found that fuel] hard labour
produced a violent thirtt; they thereforemade this propo.
tion to the citrons: Gentlemen, we are ready to perifh.
by thirft in labouring for you; permit us to make a {mall
incilion in eachof you, that we may have a drop ofliquor to
refrefh our parched throats ; you will not be poorer, and
we and our children {hall thereby acquire freth (lrength for
your fervice."
The credulous citrons thought this requeft not unreal on-
able, and {ubmitted to the imperceptible contribution-
But what was the confequence? ~When the incifion was
once made, the hands of meflieurs, the guardians, pre ed
them
THE TAXES. 299
paid. As a full an ver, the worthy man, my con-
duétor took me by the hand, and led me to a fpacious
place, formed by the termination of four (lreets. I
obferved a rong che ; that was twelve feet high ;
it was fuppottcd on four wheels ; there was a fmall
opening at top, which was fecured from the rain by
a kind of awning; on this che : was wrote, Tribute
due 10 ii»: King repnfvnting Ibc ute. Hard by was
another che , of a (mailer ze, with thefe words;
Free gg x. I fawfeveral people, with eafy, cheerful,
contented looks, throw fealed packets into the chef},
as in our days they threw letters into the pott-o ice.
I was f0 allonilhed at this eafy manner of paying
taxes, that I made a thoufand ridiculous inquiries:
they therefore regarded me as a poor old man that
was come from a far diftant country; yet their in.
dulgent a 'ability would never fuffer me to wait for
a reply. I confefs that it is only in a dream a man
can
them every day more clofely. They at lafl found that
citron juice was nece ary in all their food; they obferved
too that the clofer they p'refl'ed the fruit, the more juice
it yielded. The citrons teeing themfelves thus profufely
bled, thought to have reduced their contribution to the
primitive llipulation ; but the guardians, grown more rong,
difregarding all their complaint, put them in the prels; and
when nothing elfe remained, they forced a juice from the
rinds, by the aid ofterrible machines. They at lafl bathed
themfelves in the juice of eitrons. The beautiful foreft
was foon defpoiled; the race of citrons became extinft;
and their tyrants, habituated to that re efhing liquor, \by
their prodigality had totally deprived themfelves of it.
They all fell lick, and died of the putrid fever. Amen,
{o be it.
300 THE TAXES.
can expeél to meet with people ) extremely complai-
fant. 0, what aloyal nation!
That large coffer'you fee, they faid, is our
receiver-general of the nances, It is there that
every citizen depo ts his contribution for the fupport
of the Rate. We are there obliged to depo t the
ftieth part of our annual income. He that has no
property, or what is only juft fu icient for his main-
tenance, is exempt* ; for why iliould we take bread
from
* Hear what the labourer, the inhabitant of the country,
in {hot}, 'the people, fhould fay to their fovereigus. We
have raifed you over us, we have engaged our lives and
properties to {upport the fplendor of your throne, and the
fecurity of your perfon. You have promifed, in return,
to procure us abundance, and to proteét us from alarms.
Who would have believed that, under your government,
joy {hould have ed from us, and that our fea s {hould be
turned into mourning; that fear and terror {hould have
fuceeeded to a pleating con dence ! Formerly our verdant
elds fmiled upon us, and promifed to repay our labours.
Now the fweat of our brows produces fruit for rangers.
Our villages, that once we were pleated with improving,
now fall into ruins: our old 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 yetlerday deplored. The appearance of humanity is
{carce left us, and the animals that crop the grafs are far
lefs miferable.
The moft heavy rokes have fell upon our heuos. We
are difpifed by the man in power, who will not allow us
to have any ienfation of honour; he comes to mole our'
1 huts,
THE TAXES. 30!-
from himwhoi e daily labour is but féilicieht for his
ih airitehttrice'? Til the o'tliér cofFer are, the volim tai y
offerings; intended {or hfeful de gns; for. the eitec'u;
tidii
huts, and to {educe'theinnocence of our daughters : he
{natches them-from us, and they-becbme a prey to brutal
lath. In vain do we implore the aid ofjuftice; ju ice turns
from us, it is deaf to our tries, and onlyvrezitiy to a ilt thetii
that opprefs us.
The péréae 'of magni cence iiil'u lts our m ifer'y', arid
retikie r's it {till hi br'e iiifupiidrtable. ' They d ii lé our blood,
ai riil fbrb id 115th co n u piain. The harderietl'wféf'eh, fur;
i ia'iin éd Hy a'n ihfolerit iu'x'ur y; prid'e's himrei'f b n thfé warts
mm guy h'aiidé have ci e éd. While he ih iras rbr 3613;
(jut i'iidu rffy is forgot; he riag ar'éls us as'hav'es', bét aiiEWc
are at ridto us nor réVengefu}.
1?hote ihce ant wants that furround us have corrupted
the purity of our r na nne rs : per dy a'n d rapirie have crept
in amo ngft' [15; for the nece'fliti'es of life cominotily'OVet come
vittue . Btit Who has given us examples of i apine? Who
has extinguifhed iii om" hearts that four cé of ca n dour which.
made it's dear to ea'ch' other i Who has ca uf ed ol'l'r n iifefy
the mother of our vices; ,Mény of our inhabita nts have,
refuted 'to give exiften'eet o children that mutt be a prey to
fa m me in the cradle. Others, in their defpairhhave blaf;
phe med againft Providence. Who are the real authors of
all our crimes ?
May our complaints pierce through that va pour by which
thrones are furrounded! Ma'y king s route from their.
lethargy, and remember that they might have been born in
our etlon, and that their children may ione'day defcend to
it! Attached to our country; or rather forming the moft
D d el fcntiél
302 THE TAXES;
tion of fuch projeéts as have been approved by The
public. This fometimes is richer than the other;
'for we love. liberality in our gilts, and no other
motive is nece 'ary to excite it than equity andalove
for the Rate. \Vhenever our king {ends forth an
ufeful-edié r, that merits the public approbation, we
run in crowds to the chell with our marks of ac-
knowledgment; he has but to propofe, and we furnilh
him-
e 'ential part of'1t, e do not with to be exempt from con-
tributing to its l'upport. All we withIS a man of equity,
who will 'efiimate the degree of our force, and not crulh us
by a burden, which, if proportioned to our ltrength, we
1ould bear with pleafure. Then tranquil and ricl1'1n
our ceconomy, contented with our lot, we {hould behold
the grandeur of others without repining at'our hti mble
l'l-ation.
More than the moiety of our days is already part. Our
hearts are'more than half delivered oftheir grief: we hate
but a little time to live. Our prayers are more for our
country than for ourfelves. lt'is we that fupport it: bi1't
ifoppre ion {hall continually increafe, we mufl {ink; our
country Wlll be overthrown, and by its fall it will crulh
bur tyrants We do not wilh for this f11111lel§s and mclul
Vengeance. What folace can the miferies of others afford
us, when furrounded by the grave? We {peak to you, O
{overeignsl If you 'be yet men, if your hearts be no't
totally hardened, you will yet rememberthat we know how
to die', and that the death by which we {hull foon all be
{wallowed up, will one day be toyou far more dreadful
than to115.
This note is taken, in part, from-a book i'nti'tlcd 16!
Hammer.
THE" TAKE:1». 303
him with the means ofaccomplifhingevery importanc
pi ojea'." 'There'
15 a {imi lax trunk in eVery quartet:
ofthe city, and'1n every city in the p101inces', which
receives the contributions of the country, that15,0t'
théfgix mer at his cafe, for the laboufer, whofe pro-
p'e 1 iy lé'
111' his arms had his hanéls, paysnothintr.
'ih: b'e'éf and the h6g9 are likew ife exemptf1om that
1311115115 tax, which was r lmd onthe head 6f the
Jewsewndwhich you' paid withinbeing feti blér
5fybu'r'fervilé h t e."
Ho '! I l'aid,' .do 'you leave it to the goodwill
ofthe people to pay theii; taxes? theremull; be then
agreatnumbe'rIt'ha't. pay nothing,without £0,111-
k owing it.4 Notat ll; your fears ate vai11.I:'1
the rPt place, we give with a free will; V our tribute
is .not by compul on, butt founded on reafon and.
equity; . Thereis fcafce-a man a_mohg rusgwho does
not-efleem'it a point of-hononr to difcharge the molt
famed and molt legitimate of all debts:B.ef'1de,_ if
alman in condition to pay lhould dai e t0 negleétit,
you 'there fee'the tableon which the name ofthe head.
of very'tfémily is'engraved, by whichwe fhould {(1011
feeswho had 1110!; thrown in' his pac'lcet, . on: which
lhould'b eihisvfeuls In' that Ical'e he;cover.s himfelf
with
" The jens
1n France aieat this day liable to pay a tax
on enteringa town, in the faine manner as oxen 21nd hows
,
there feems fou'iétlfiiig wliim cztl1n conheé'fih g the'm viith
thela inehtioned aniiiials-; it is however certainlyfztrmme
11111111 0'11; any 'peotilc on account of their religion, thgo: i1 is
for them to pay it when compelled.
Ddz
304 THE VTAXES n
withan eterngll infamy, and we regatgd him as you
regard
a thief; the appellation ofa bad citizen#911911:
him to the. grate.
Examptes of thrts for}.
2111: very__ rage, {01;the {see
gifts fiequently amount,to more than.- the trihute.
\Ve knowthat by-givihgw
:1 part to1111: (late, we
enjeycertainconveniencms,111151111111111gke apreytoue
advance; ButWhat are words,When 1W1: eapteach
by example? You {hall prefent1y fee much hatter
than Icane¥P13i9,t9)ou. Itis todaythatthere
arrives from eyery pait,
thejti'fi tribute o a
faithful people to a. bene cerit moharch,_ 11120con?
ders himfelf merely as the depg toty of_ t 6gifts
they o 'er.
'- Le}: 116'repair to theking?5palace,- the deputies
of each province areby this time near arrived.95 3111
£2161, we-had--g'one but a: {hon way before I {aw meit
drawing {1113 cars, onwhich were placed che s
covered' with laurels. They broke the feals of thofe
coffers, and put them in the balance, by which,
allowmg for the weight of the cheft, they found
the jti quantity. of lver that each: contained; and
asail the payments wete made1n lver, they knew
the exaé t produee of the whole, which was publicly
declared hy fo't md of trhrhpet. Aftex the general
examination, an accou'nt{1'1'.writing_ 1.1'/as xed up for
public.infpeéiion, 311d by that each one knew ,the
revenue of the Rate. The money was then placed'111,
the royal tneaftiry,under. the care.of' the comptroller
(; the nances.
This
THE- TAXES . 305
This» W215 a day of rejoicing; they wore garlands
éf' ow'ef s, and cried, 'Long live the'king- They
came in proce iori before each c111 :of tribute. The
deputies of the fevemi provinces faluted each other,
and made reciprocal prefents. They drank to the
health of the monarch by the found of~ca-nnon, which
were anfwer ed by tho fe of the capitol, as expre ing
the thanks of the fovereign. The whole people 2111-.
peared on that day as one family. The king pre-
fented him fe lf in'the midi : of this joyful people; he
replied to the acclamations of his fubjeé ts by thofe
tender and affable regards, that infpire con dence,
and tender love for love: he difdained the art of
treating politically with a people whom he regarded
as his children. His vi ts did not di refs the citi-
zens,» as they co them nothing but cries of joy*,
the
3* Ionce {aw a prince make his public entry into a foreign
city. The cannon proclaimed his approach. He was
magni cently dre 'ed, and drawn in a gilded cai, loaded
with pages and lacquies. The horfes neighed and bounded
:as If they had drawnthe chariot of felicity. All the windows
were thrown.11p,_ the roofs were cover,ed and the reets
crowded with the multitudes. The cavalry brandifhed
their fahres, and the infantry exercifed their mufkets. 'The
air t efounded with the echo of the trumpets. The poet
ning hisl-yre,_ and the oratorattended his defcent from the
Chariot. The prince arrives; he is condu ed to the palace,
and his prefence infpires an, awful joy. I was at a window,
11nd few all. that paired, which afforded me {01116 {ingular
re e ions. Walking in'the fh eets 21' few d aysafter, I was
{tirprifcd to meet this prince 011'foot,,alonc, and in difguife.
No 'one took any notice of him, but treated him as a vulgar
Berk) - At that moment there arrived a 111011nteba11k',
D d 3 {eath
305 THE TAXES.
the molt brilliant and mo'Pt attering of all recep-
tions; They did not de from their labours, on the
contrary, every citizen was proud of appearing be-
fore his king in the occupation he had embraced.
An intendant, inve cd with all the nece ary marks
of power, went into every province, received theii
petitions, examined himfelf the abufes, and bore di-
rec tly to the foot of the throne the complaint of the
fubjeét. He vi ted indifcriminately every town, and
where any abufe was abolifhed, they ereéted a~pyra-
mid in commemoration. What hi ory more in rue-
tive than thefe moral monuments, which atTerted that
the fovéreign really applied himfelf to the art of go-
verning. Thefe intendants fet off and arrive ineog-
nito, they are perpetually difguifed, and made their
informations fecretly; they are fpies, but they aét for
the good of their country *2
I But
{cared in a fort of chaife, drawn by a 'numher oflarge dogs,
with a monkey for their pottilion. The windows were all
thrown up, the people fhoutcd, and all their looks were
xed on the mountebank ; the prince himfelf, attraét'ed by
the crowd, became one of his admirers. I looked .atten-
tively at him, and methought I heard him fay to hlmfelf.
The empty acclarnations of the multitude {hull never
more dazzle my mind with a foolith pride. It ts not this
man the people throng to fee, but his (trange equipage. It
was not I that attraétecl their regards, but my valets, my
hortes, the richnefs of my drefs, and the fplendor of my
gilded chariot."
* In Turkey, and at prefent in France, a governor IS as
much matter as the molt abfolute monarch i it is that which
caufes
THE TAXES. 397
But your comptraller of the nances, I faidi,"mu
be a man of wonderful .integ'rity 5". You. remember
the fable: the faithful_dog,-direéted bytemperance,
carried his ma er s dinner, without ever offering to
touch it, but freely to eat his part at laft, when in-
vited by example. Your o icer mutt have a double
virtue con antly to defend, and never dare to touch
it! ,Be affured he builds no palace or villa. He
does ,not advance his dittant cou- ns, or ancient
valets, to the rtt polls in the government. He does
not featter his wealth as if all the revenue of the
kingdom was at his difpofalf. Be de, all thefe in
whole hands the public treafure- is depo ted cannot
make ufe of money on any pretence whateveg, It
would be high treafon'to receive from them a ngle
piece of coin. They pay {ome particular expences
by. notes gned with the king s own hand. The Rates
pro-
caufes the mifery of the people. This fort of civil admi-
nittration is of all others the molt deplorable.
*' Fonquet laid, I have all the money, and the tariff
of all the virtues in the kingdom.
1 After the mini ers, the nanciérs, the monopolizers,
have facri eed their reputation for prohity to a de re of
enriching themfelves; after they have {ubmitted to become
odious, they do not even think of making a good ufe of
their plunder; they endeavour to cover their original mean-
nefs under a pompous appearance. They intoxicate them-
{elves with di ipations 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.
provide far: all their exp'e nces; but they have notthe
163,11 property . They .canneither buy, not- fell, not
build. Their lodgings, their tables, their d'wer ons,
ate all charged to the Rate. They enter 'a diraper s
fhop, order fuch cloth as they want; and depart; the
tradefman enters in his book; delivered fetch a day,
to fuch a dc'p o tory of the Rate, f0 much; the are
pays it:7 and fovof every other profe ion. You will
ea ly imagine, that if a comptroller of the nances
hasany modefty he Will make a moderate ufe of this
privilege; and if he fhould even abufe. it, we .fhatl
[till be gainers, compared with what the comptrollers
co you. We have likewife {tipprelred the regi ers,
which ferved only to fcreen the robberies of the na-
tion, and to make them authentic by a method that
may be called legitimate.
And who is your prime minifter? Can you afk
it? The king himfelf. Can royalty be transferred f.
The
* The interior vices, that prepare the ruin of a Rate, are,
that enormous di ipation of the public treafure; thofe ex-
travagant gifts bettowed on {ubjeéts without merit; thofe
faftuous prodigalities unknown to the mottlawlefs ufurpere.
We may ohferve in hittory, that the moft fubtle tyrants
have been the mo prodigal. I have {omewhere read, that
Auguftus, the matter of the world, maintained~ an army of
4o legions for 12 millions per annum. This furely attords
matter for re eétion.
+ The general hittory of wars may be called, The bi/t ary
oftbe primate pa iam ofmini ery. One of there, by his in-
{idious negociations, fets a dittant and tranquil empire in
ames, merely to revenge fome tri ing offence he has pet-
£ona11y received.
THE .TAXBSE 309
«the geueiaig-the jn g e, the: ttatefman ,3may men n22?
bxygtheii- pro ts: . In cafe;o§ cknhfég ptt wh exi o'nl a
jmitmey, qr eitgagedrin fame pantieularzhu ztefs; ii?
thehnqnanchchangeshhy one- with the: zicco'mph ié
mfittof' his qr'ders, itais perhaps hi§fr~iendon1yg ithexe
is namoti've hti zt that which c'anf induce. at man:-to
change.himi'elfmiolhnmriiy with fuc h a burden ; and
our ,e eem alone gives him theT momentary powen
Animhtediand recbmpenfcdabyfniend iip, he knows;
like 8111]}: and' Ambo'd e, howlto fpéakj the truth.to
his; ma et, and the ,morez faith llly t6. ame him;
f(mtetimes touoprpofe- him. Hecoa'hbats hbrpémcns;
H'e' loves the'man iwhil e he;has 'at heartrthe glprylof
the monarch *2 .rByQ lieatmgpartin hie labours, he
ac'quii-eg a {bare .of the. venérationfof his country}
ddubnlefs: thez-mot c: h(n'murabie inhoritanqe, he; can
leait e his: degendahts, and'thap aloneof which heiig
jealous.
When we talked of taxes, I forgot to afk, if you
have periodical lotteries, where, in my time, the poor
people depo ted all their little hoards? Certainly
not. We do not fo abufe the credulous hope of man;
we do not levy on the indigent part. of ourrpeople a
tax
* Fidelity does not con ft in that {ervile obedience to the
will of another, which is reprefented by the emblem of a
dog; who every where follows, continually utters, and im
plicitly obeys the orders of an unjuft or tyrannit: matter.
ltteems to me, that true fidelity is an exaft obfervance of
the laws of reafon and juttice, rather than a fervile {ubmif-
oa. sully appears to me faithful when he tore the promite
of marriage that Henry IV. had made.
3,10 THE.TAXES.
tax {0 ingeniou y cruel. The wretchéd , who
weary of the prefeut, lites on expeélation onlyr cax;
ries the price of 'his labour' and watchings to that
fat?! wheel, from whence he is in-continualihope that
Fortune will vi t him; but is con antiy deluded b}:
that cruel goddefs. The urgent de re of'happin efs
prevents him from-reafoning; and thoughl'the fraud
be palpable, as the heart is dead to hopezheforellife
diea every one imagines that at half he {hail be fuvcj
cefsiul. It is the favings of the indigent thht- have
built thofe fuperb edi ces, to which they go begging
their bread. It is to them thofe altars owe their
luxury,rto Which they' are hardly ndmittedw For
ever a-I ra-nger, for ever.repulfed,1 the poor are not
permitted to . t on the [tone they-havepaid'for
carving; pompous 3pxie s xichiy endowed, lime'hndcn
thofe roofs, that in equity; at lea g ought ma a tmi
them an afylum.
C H AP.
[3:13
CHAP. XL.
02v COMMERCE.
IT feems, byewhat you have told me, that
France has no longer ahy colonies in the new World;
that each part of America. forms a feparate king-
dom though pnited under one fpirit of legi ationc
,We fhould be highly ridiculous to {end our dear
fellow citizens two thoufand leagues from us. Why
[hould wé thus e range ourfelves from our brethren?
Our climate is at leaft as good as that of America.
Every nece ary production is here common, and by
nature excéllent. The colonies were to France what
a country-houfe is to a private perfon: the houfe in
the country, foloner or later, ruins that in town;
We have a commerce, but it con s merely in the
exchange of fuper uities among ourfelves. We have
prudently baniihed three natural poifons, of which
you made perpetual ufe; fnu , co ee, and tea. You
u ed your heads with a villanous powder, that de-
prived you Frenchmen ofwhat little memory you bad,
You burned your {tomach with liquors that de royed'
it by encrea ng its aé tion. Thofe nervous diforders
[ 0 common among you were owing to the e eminate
liquor which harried othhe houri iing juice of the
animal 'life. ~We cultivate an interior commerce
only, of which we nd the good e e s; founded
principally on agriculture, it di ributes the mo nc«
eclTary aliments'; it fatis es the wants of man, but
'not his pride.
No
3 ,2 ON COMMERCE
Noman blulhes to till his own ground, and to
improve it to the higheft degree pollible. Our mo-
narch himfelf ha§ feveral acres which are cultivated
under his own eye. We have not etmong us--any of
thb'tie tled g ent'ry; whble unly pu r ilt'Was idlenefs.
'1" Fgreigrt:traf c was the re t tther o ftli a't ae-
t u iv eluxut y, Which p rodueed
1nit stumthathor-
rrd inequatiry off o'rtu rles,whiéhcaufEd alI the
Wealth of the h atiO n- to p al s into :1 l'ew hands. 3&1
cau'fenWoma'n 'coutd'catry'1'11he réar s t'he patrimony
of ten families, the pe fa t Wa s forced to {Ell the
land of his aheeftot's, and to y, 'with tears, frbm that
foil where he fbu nd nought but mife r'y and difgr'acé:
for theta ihfanh blemontters-, w h'o'hid ac cum'u la'ted
the gbl d,'eve11 derided the m1sfortt1 1'1e s' (Sf thdl ethey
had plunderecH . We began by deftroying thofe
gféat
I. ftnile With indignant pity when I fee to .many 'fine
proieé'ts; offered for. the improvement Df;agricultur e -and
population, while the taxes contin ually increa ng, rob' the
People of the {weat of their brow; and the price ofcom is
a11g111ented by the monOpOIy of thofe who have all themo-
ney of the kingdom111 their hands Muf twe for ever cry
to thofe proud and obdurate ears. Give 113 a full aria
tmb'ounded liberty of commerce and navigatio11,'zind 21' di;
minution of taxes. Thefe a're the only means of'no'utith;
ing the people, and preventing that depopulation which we
fee already begun. But, alas! patriotifm .is a contraband
virtue. The man who lives for-himfelf alone,- ivho thinks
of nought but himfelf, who is lent, and turns away his eyes
for fear of horror, he is the good citizen ; they even prait'e
his prudence and moderation. For my owri part; I cannot
remain
4.
ON COMMERCE. 3, 3
great companies, that abforbed all the fortunes of
individuals, annihilated the generous holdnefs of a
nation, and gave as deadly a blow to morality as to
the Rate.
It may be very agreeable to tip chocolate, to
breathe the odour of fpices, to eat fugar and ananas,
to drink Barbadoes water, and to be clothed in the
gaudy uffs of India. But are thefe fenfations fuf-
eiently voluptuous to clofe our eyes againft the
crowd of unheard of evils that your luxury engena
deredin the two hemifpheresi You violated the molt
{acted ties of blood and nature on the coaft of Gui¥
nea, You armed the father againlt the fon, while
you pretended to the mime of'Chri ian-s and of mem.
Blind barbarians! You have been but too well cone-
vinced by afatal experience. A thirtt for gold ex-
tolled by every heart; amiable moderation banifhed
by avidity; ju ice and virtue regarded as chimeras;
avarice pale, and re lefs, plowing the Waves, 'and
penpling with 'carcafes the depths of the ocean; a
whole race of men bought and fold,,treated as the
vile animals; kings become merchants, covering
the feas with blood for the ag of a frigate: Gold,
'tO
remain lent, I mutt declare what i have feen. It is into
molt ot the provinces of France that we mutt go to fee the
people completely miferable. It is now, in 1770, three
winters together that we have teen bread dear. The latl
year one halfof the peafants had need of public charity,
a nd this wihter will complete theirrrnin; for they who have
lived till now telling their e e s, have nothing left to fell.
1 hefe poor people have a patience that makes me admire
the force of the laws and of education.
Ee
314 ON COMMERCE.
to conclude, owing from the mines of Peru like a
aming river, and running into Europe, burned up
every where in its courfe the roots of happineis,
and was then 'for ever 109: on the ea ern world,
where fuper ition buried in the earth, on one de,
what avarce had painfully drawn from it, on the other.
Behold a faithful piéture of the advantages that;
foreign commerce produced to the world.
Our ve hls do not make the tour of the globe;
to bring back coc'hineal and indigo. Know you
where are our mines ? Where is our Peru? In labour
and a iduity. - All that promotes cafe and con;
yeniehce, that direétly tends to a if c nature, is culti-'
vated with the greateit care. All that belongs ito
pomp, to o(tentation and vanity, to a puerile de re
ofan exclu ve po 'e ion ofwhat is merely the work
of fancy, is {everer prohibited. We have call into
the {ea thofe deceitful diamonds, thofe dangerous.
peatls, and'ail thofe \vhim cal ones that rendered the
heart, like, them impenetrable. You thonght your-
feives highly ingenious in the re nements of luxury,
but your purfuits were merely after fuper uities,
after the {hadow of greatnefs; you were not even
Voluptuous. Your futile and miferable inventions
ivere con ned to a day. You were 'nothing more
than children fond of glaring ohjeéts, incapabie of
fatis ing your real wants. Ignorant of the artof
h'appinefs, you fatigued yourfelves, far from the
Objeétof your purfuits, and mi ook, at every epg
the image for the reality.
"* When
ON COMMERCE. 315
When our vefi els leave their harbours, they take
not thunder with them, to {eize on the va extent of
waters, a fugitive prey that forms a point fcarce per-
ceptible to the ght. The echo of the waves bears
not to heaveh the hideous cries of furious wretches
that difpute, at the expence of life itfelf, a paffage
over the immenfe and vacant ocean. ~We vi t di ant'
nations, but in ead of the produétions of their lands,
we bring home the moft ufeful difcoveries relative to
their legi ature, their phyfical life, and their man-
ners. Our ve els ferve to connect outna ronomical
knowledge; more than three hundred obfervatories
ereéted on this globe are ready to maxk the leaf]:
alteration that occurs in the heavens. The earth is
the poft where watches the centinel cf the rmament
who never eeps. A ronomy is become an impor-
tant fcience, as it proclaims, with a maje ic 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
moft extraordinary kind that ever exif ted. You
ought to be veryrich, he faid, for in your youth,
doubtiefs, yoil placed out money on annuities, efpe-
cialiy on furvivorihips, 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 torgo to the longeft liver! You {hould
have a mop: plentiful annuity! They renounced
father and mother, brother and fitter, all friends and
relations, to double their revenue. They made the
king their heir, then cpt in a profound indolence,
andllived only for themfelves. Ah! why do you
E e 2 tell
316 ON COMMERCE.
tell me of thefe matters? Thofe rueful ediéts that
completed our corruption, and diffolyed conneétions,
till then held {acted ; that barbarous re nement
which publickiy confecrated felf-love, that detached
the citizens from each other, and made them folitary
and lifelei's beings, drew tears from my eyes, when I
re e ed on the future condition of the (late. I {aw
private fortunes melt away, and the exce ive mafs
of opulence fweil by their di oltltion ; but the fatal
blow that was given to morals affeé ted me {till more
deeply; no longer any connee'tion between hearts
that ought to be devoted to each other; they gave
to intereit a keener {word ; intere of itfeif already
{C3 formidable ; the fovereign authority laid thofe
barriers at its feet, that it would never have dared
to attack ofitfelf.~ Good old man, {aid my guide,
you have done well to eep, or you would have
feen the annuitants and the Rate punifhed for their
mutual imprudence. Politics, nce that period, has
made no fuch {olecifm; it does not now ruin, but
unite and enrich the citizens.
CHAP.
[317]
CHAP. XLI.
THE EVENING.
THE fun was was going down. My guide-
invited me to go with him to the houfe of one ofhis
friends, where he was to fup. I did not want much
intreaty. I had not yet feen the infide of their houfes,
and that, in myjudgment, is the moft intere ing
ght in every city. In reading hi ory, I pafs over
many pafiages, but am ever curious in examining the
detail of domeftic life : that once done, I have
no need to learn the reft ;. I can form a natural com-
jeéture;
On entering, I found none of thofe petty apart.
ments that feem to be cells for lunatics, whofe walls
are fcarce x inches thick, and where they freeze ilI
winter, and fcorch in fummer. The rooms were
large and fonorous; you might walk at your eafe.
A folid roof guarded them from the piercing cold
and the burning rays of the fun; thefe houi'es, more-
over, did not grow old with thofe that built them.
I entered the falcon, and prefently di inguifhed
the mafter of the houfe. I-Ie falutecf me without
grlmace or referve.*. His wife and children behaved
m
j How falhfe and diminutive is our poiitenefsl And how
odious and infuhing is that affumed by the great ! It is a
E e 3 mark
in his pretence in a free but refpeétful manner; and
mon eur, or the elde ; fon, did not give me a fpeci-
men of his wit by ridiculing his father; neither his
mother, nor his grand-mother would have been
charmed with fuch witicifms". His tters were
neither eiffeétedly polite, not totally infen ble; they
received us in a graceful manner, and refumed their
feveral employments; they did not watch all my
motions, nor did my great age and broken voice
make them once fmile; they difplayed none of that
unnaturttlcomplaifance, which is [0 contrary to true
politenefs. This room was not decorated with twenty
brittle, ta elefs baivbles. There was no gilding,
varnithing, porcelainf, or wretched gures. In
their place was a lively tape ry, plea ng to the
ght, and fame nithed prints; a remarkable neat-
nefs graced this falcon, that of itfelf was elegant and
lightfome.
We
mafk mote hideous than the mo ugly of all faces All
thofe reve-rences, thofe afl'céted ge iculations, are in tfl ier-
able to a real man. The falfe brilliuncy of our man-
ners is more difgu ful than the gro 'eft behaviour of a
*clow n.
* There is a licentioufners of the mind which is farmore
dangerous than that of the fentes; and it is at this tune the
principal vice that infeé ts the youth of our capital.
1~ What a mifetuble luxury is that of porcelain! A cat,
a briith with the eeve, may dc 'roy in a moment more
than the produce oftwenty acres.
THE EVENING.» 3,9
We joined cc-nverfation, but there was no {port-
ing with paradoxes"; that execrable wit, which
was the plague of the age I lived in, did not'give
falfc-coloursrto things that were by nature perfeétl y
mple. No bne maintained the direét contrary of
what was a 'erted by another, merely to clifplay his
talentsf. Thefe people talked from principle, and did
not
*. Converfation animates the rencounter of ideas, brings
forth the treafures of the mindfand is one'of'the greateft
pleafures oflife: it is moreover that of all others _I mott
highly enjoy. 2 But in the world, I have remarked, that
inflead of nourifhing, rengthening, and elevating the
mindtit enervates and degrades it. All things are now.
become problematical. By an abufe 0f reztfon, the very
exiflence of objects is in a manner deflroyed. We meet
with panegyrics on the molt enormous abufes. All things.
are jufti ed. They embrace, unknown to themfelves, a
thoufand puerile and extravagant ideas. Their minds
become di erted by the colli on of oppo te opinions. There
is, <an not what poifon, that intinuzites itfelf, mounts
to the head, arid clouds yotu primitive ideas, which are
commonly the mofljuft Avarice, ambition, and luxury,
have ['0 fnbtle a logic, that after hearing them, you have.
'no longer your fdrmer abhorrence for thofe by whom they,
are praé tifed; they all prove themfelves to be innocent.
VV e mutt quickly y to folitude to regain a vigorous abhor
ence of vice. The world makes us familiar whith thofe
cirxnes it applauds, and affeftsus \vithitsdeht ve fpirit. By
too much frequenting men, we become let's men ; we receive
from them a fztl fe light that leads us atlray. It is by (hut:
ting the doonthatwwe tecolleét ourtel'ves, that we perceive
the pure light of truth, which never fhiues among the
multitude.
f The decrees of idlenefs are as unju as thofe of vanity.
320 THE EVENING.
ont contradiét themfelves twenty times in a quarter
of an hour. The fpirit of this converfation was not
direé ted by (tarts, and without being profufe or dull,
they did not pafs, in the fame breath,from the birth
of a prince to the drowning of a dog.
.The young people did not affeét a childifh manner,
a'drawling or lifping language, nor a proud care-
lefs. afpeé t and attitude*. I heard no licentious pro-
pofal, nor did any one declaim in a gloomy, tedious,
heavy manner, againft thofe confolatory truths, that
are the delight and comfort of fen ble mindsf. The
women did not. a eé t a tone by turns languifhing
and imperious; they were decent, referved, modei t,
and engaged in an eafy fuitable employment; idle-.
nefs had no charms for them ; they did not rife at.
noon becaufe they were to do nothing at night. I
was highly pleated with their not propo ng ,cards;
that in pid diver on, invented to amufe an idiot
monarch, and which is coultantly pleating to the
numerous herd of dunces, who arethereby enabled
to. conceal their profound ignorancethad difappeared
from
* A pretty fellow in France mutt be ender, weakly,
and not have more than twelve ounces of eih on his bones;
he l'hould likewife have a pain in his omach, and a very
poor Rate of health. A man that is rong and hearty
is a hideous creature. It becomes the Swifs and porters
only, to have a .mafculine gure and- a orid Rate of
health.
+ Pvrrhonifm fuppofes {ometimes more prejudices than
anaturaldifpo tion to receive theappearanccs of truth.,
THE EVENING, 3 2 :-
frcm Among a people who knew too well how to
improve the moments oflife to wa e them in a prac-
tice at once fo dull and fa idious". I {aw none of
thofe green tables, on which men ruin themfelves
unpitied. Avarice did not molef c thefe hone citi-
zens, even in the moments confecrated to lei tre.
They did not make a fatigue of what {hould be a
mere relaxation 1-. If they played, it was at draughts,
or chefs, thofe ancient and udious gzimes, that offer
an in nite Variety of combinations to the mind.
There were alfo other games they called mathema-
tical recreations, and with which even their children
were acquainted.
I obferved that each one followed his incli-
nation without being remarked by the reft of the
company.
' With our author s leave, card playing is not always
a proper employment for dunces; for though cards are
frequently, indeed commonly, introduced to ltlpply a dearth
of converfation, yet there are l'everal games that require a
ftrong exertion of all the faculties of the mind. No dunce,
no man of indilferent capacity, ever played the game of
piquet or ombre well.
+ I dread the approach of winter, not for the leverity of
the feafon, but becatife it brings with it a wretched thirtl:
for gaming. That feafon is the meft fatal to morals, and
the mof t infupportable to philofophy. It is then thofe noify
and in pid a emblies {tart up; where all the futile pallions
exercife their ridiculous empire. The mile for (rifles then
diétates the made. All the men, metamorphofed into ef.
feminate aves, are {ubordinate to the caprice of the wo
men. for whom, at the very time, they have neither Clteem
nor atfeétion.
322 THE EVENING.
company. There were no female fpies, who; by cen-
furing others, Vdifcharged themfelves of that foul hu-
mour which rankles their fouls, and which they fre-
quently owe as much to their deformity as their
folly. Thefe converted, thofe turned over a book
of prints, one examined the piétures, and another
.amufed himfelf with a bool: in a corner. The}i form:
ed no circle to communicate a gaping that runs all
round. In a room adjoining was'a concert; it was
that of fweet utes united with the human 'voice.
The clanging harp cord, and the monotonous d-
dle, here yielded to the enchanting powers of a ne
woman; what initrument can have greater effetft
upon the heart?"11he improved harmonica, however,
feemed to difpute the prize; it breathed the m o ;
pure, full, and melodious founds that can charm the
car. It was a ravifhing and celeltial mu c, that is
fat from being rivalled by the clamour of our operas,
where the man of ta e and fen bility feeks {or the
confonance of unity, but feeks in vain.
I was. highly charmed. They did not remain
continually feated, nailed to a chair, and obliged to
maintain an eternal converfation about nothing, and
that too with the utmoft folemnity*. The women
were not continually wrangling about metaphylics;
and if they {poke about poetry, of dramas, .or au-
thors; they con antly acknowledged themfelves,
notwith-
,* In common converfation we meet with two circum-
flances equally difagreeable, to have nothing to fay, and yet
be forced to talk; or to have fomething to fay when the
converfation is over.
THE EVENING. 323
notwith anding their great abilities, unequal to the
fubjeéti .
They de red me to walk into an adjoining room,
where {upper was prepared. I looked at the clock
with lhrprize, it was not yet feven, Come, Sir, {aid
the mailer of the houfe, taking me by- the hand, .we
do not pafs our nights by the light of wax candles.
We think the fun fo beautiful, that it is to us a plea-
fure to fee it& r rays dart on the horizon. We do
not go to bed with a loaded ftomach, to experience
broken umbers attended by fantaltic dreams. We
Carefully guard our health, as on that the ferenity of
themind dependsf. We are moreover fond of gay
and plea ng dreamsi.
There
* A woman never thinks clofely but when {he meditates
on the le 'ons Ufa favourite gallant {I ; and how many nieu
are there like women?
1 This is certainly not jult; our author, as a Frenchmam
{hould haVe 'remcmbered the name of Ducier, and not have
"expreifed himfelf in fuch unlimited terms.
+ Health is. to happinel's, what the dewlot heaven is to
the fruits of the earth.
1 Happy are they who enjoy the {enfation of health ; that
tranquil Rate of body, that equilibrium, that perfeft agree-
ment of all the humours, that happy difpo tion of all the
otgans, by which theii renglh and agility are fupported.
l hat general perfec t health is ufitfelf a high enjoyment.
It 18 not rapturous; granted: but as it alone furm es nll
mher plen u'es, it gives that contentment to the mind, that
internal
324 THE EVENING.
There was a general lence. The father of, the
family bleerd the food that was {et before us. . I his
Graceful and holy cuflom was revived; and it ap-
geared to me important, as perpetually reminding
us of that gratitude We owe t3 God, who meefl'antly
fupplies uswith fub f tence. I was more bufy in ex-
amining the table thanvin eating. I {hall not dwell
on the neatnefs and elegance that there prevailed.
The dome ics fat at the bottom of the table, and eat
with their ma ers; they had therefore the more ref-
peét for them; they received by thie means le 'ons
of probity, which they laid up in their hearts; they
thereby became more enlightened, and were not
coarfe or infolent, as'they were not longer regerded
as bafe. Liberty, gaiety, a decent familiarity, dilated
the heart and glowed in the front of every gueft.
Every one had his mefs placed before him ;.no one
crowded his neighbour; no one coveted a dtfh that-
was di ant from him; he would have heen reckoned
a glutton, who was not content with hIS pOI UOD, for
it was quite fu icient. Many people eat cxceflively
more from habit than real appetite*. They had
learned
internal and delicious calm, which makes exi ence deagto
us, enables us to admire the face ofhature, andbre? 1:11
grateful thanks to the Author of ourlbemg. Diet to c.licr ,
is alone a Ioothing pleafure. l readily call him ad pin 0 :.
pher, who, fen ble of the dangers, of CXFCfS I an tier: 8..
vantages of moderation, knows how to bridle ills appe I e ,
and live without pain : how important a fecret.
. ileafure 1re
* Anatomy demon mtes, that our organs of} t
covered with {mall pyramidical cminences. The lefs ob-
tufc
1
THE EVENING. 325
learned to correé t that fault without a fumptuary
law.
None of the meats I tafted had any difeernable
feafoning, for which I was not forty. I found a favour
ixi them, :1 natural falt which feemed to me delicicuq.
I {aw none of thofe re ned difhes that pnfs through
the hands of feveral f0pliifticator9, of thofe ragouts,
thofe in ammatory fauces, mri ed in fmall, but co ly
difhes- which haf ten the de rué tion of the human
race, at the fame time that they bum up the entrails.
Thefe were not a voracious people, who devour more
than the magni cence of nature, with all her genera-
tive
tufe they are made by frequent ute, .the more {entible and
elattic they remain, and the more ready to recover their
tone. Nature, a tender and careful mother, has {0 con-
{lrufted them, that they prefct'v: their fpring to advanced
age, when their rcqui te tubtilt ty, their due afperity is not
de royed. It depends therefore on man to referve plea
ne for every age of life. But what does the intempcrate
wretch? He dc t oys this precious organi n: he vitiattes
that delicate {enfatiom by making thofe parts at and hard;
he reduces a being ulmofl celetliul, and endowed w
{tires peculiar to himfelf, to the rank of a wretched auto-
maton. What animal, in matters of enjoyment has been
more favoured than man? Who but he can contemplate
the rmamenr, di ingni i the plea ngt orms and colours
of the minuteft bodies, breathe the mutt grate tl odours,
and comprehend all the Various in eétions 0f the voice,
receive rapturous pleafure from paintings, eloquence, and
poetry, and plunge with the grente delight into the depths
of algebra and geometry, &c.? He who {a
an abridgment of the univcrfe, utl erted a
ith plea-
id that man was
great and plea ng
truth. Man appears to be connected with all that exifts.
F f
325 THE EVENING.
tive faculzies, can produce. If ever luxury he OuiOUS,
that of the table is the mu'f t dete nble; for if the
lich, by an nhufe of their wealth, diffipate the nou-
riflting fruits of the earth, the poor mutt necefl arily
pay the dearer for them, and, what is worfe, fre-
quently not have a competency?
The herbs and fruits were all of the feafon; they
knew not the fecret of producing wretched cherries in
the midft of the winter ; they were not folicitous for
the rf c produce, but lei : nature to ripen her fruits.
The palate was thereby better plcnfed, and the body
better nourilhed. They gave us a defert of fame
excellent fruit and fame old wine; but none of thofe
coloured liquors di illcd from brandy, {0 much in
life in my time; they were as feverely prohibited as
ul'fenic. This people were fen hle, that there was no
pledfure in procuring a ow and cruel death.
The matter of the hnufe iid to me with afmile,
You mull certainly think this a pitiful defert; here
are neither trees, 1101' caltles, nor \x ind-mills, nor any
other gures of confet tionary-f; that ridiculous ex-
travagzmce
* The tml'eeling man is pt ecifely him whom the world
calls a man of mile.
'1 0 France! 0 my country! woultl thou know wherein
thy true glory now COIlill lS, thy real pre.eminence over
other nations? Hear: thou excellet t in the invention of
tfhions; they are adopted in the extremities of the North,
in all the courts of Germany, cven within the Seraglio; m
a word, by all the four parts ofthe earth. Thy cooks, thy
cenfettioners are the ma : excellent in the univerfe; and
every nation in Europe admires thy dancers.
THE EVENING. 327
travagance which could not produce the leaft real
pleafure, was formerly the delight of thofe great.
children that were become dotttrds. Your magi-
(tratcs, who; at leaft ought to have given examples
of frugality, and not authoril ed by their prac tice, an
infolent and pitiful luxury; thofe magii cmtes, they
fay, thofe fathers of the people, at the commence-
ment ofevery parliament, were in exta es at the ght
of grotefque gures made of fugar; from whence
we may ea ly judge of the emulation of other ranl's
to excel the then of the long robe. , You can have
but an imperfefk idea of our indu ry, I replied; in
my time, they exhibited, on :1 table ten feet wide, an
opera of fweetmeats, With all its machines, decor.
tions, orche ra, a ors,and dancers, with the (hifting
of the fcenes, in the fame manner as at the theatre
of the Palais-Royal. During the exhibition, the
whole people be eged the door, to enjoy the great
happinefs of a glimpfe of mis fuperb defert, the whole
expence of which they certainly paid. The poor peo-
ple admired the wonderful magni cence of their
princes, and thought themfelves very in gni cant,
when compared with fuch greatnefs. . . . . The whole
company laughed heartily; we r017: from table with
gaiety; we rendered thanks to God; nd no one com-
plained of vapuurs or indgeftion.
Ffz CHAP.
[323]
C HAP. XLII.
THE 04257753.
ON returning to the former room, I {aw
lying on the table large fheets of paper, twice as
long as the Engliih ncws-papers. I eagerly feized
thefe printed iheets, and found that they Were itntitled,
News public and private. As nothing can equal the
iiiprife I felt on reading every page, determined as
I was never more to be furprifed, I [11.11] here tram
i cribe thofe articles that {truck me moi}, as near as
my- memory will permit.
at :1: a!
From Psxm , 25b: . . . .
They repref entcd before the emperor the tragedy
(f Cinna. The clemency of Augui tus, with the
beauty and dignity of the other charaé ters, made a
great impre ion on all the audience.
0 what an impudent lying gazette is here ! I fnid
t0 the perfon who Rood next me. Read . . . . Nay,
he replied very coolly, there is nothing more
likely. I myfelf have feen the Orphan of China
reprcfented at Pekin. You muft know, that I am
a mandarin, and that I love letters as much asjufhce.
I have traverfed the Royal Canal* ; I arrived hete
m
The Royal Canal divides China, from north to ibmh,
for the {pace of {ix hundred leagues. It is joined by lakes,
rivers,
THE GAZE'I TES. 3 29
in about four month, and amufed myfelfhy the way.
I was anxious to fee that Paris, of which I had
heard fo much, and to inform myfelf of a thoufand
things, which it is abfolutely neceiihry to fee, clearly
to comprehend. The French language has been
common at Pekiat for thefe two centuries pail; and,
on my return, I (hall take with me feveral good
books that I intend to tranflate. You do not then,
hit. Mandarin, {till ufe your hieroglyphic language,
and have abrogated that extraordinary law, which
forbade any one ofyou to leave the empire ?- It was
quite necefl ary to change our language and adopt
In 're mple charaéters, if we would maintain a cor-
refpondence with you. This was not more dif cult
than it is to learn algebra or geometzy. Our emperor
has repealed the law that forbade travelling, as he
veiy rightly judged, that you did not all refemble
thole prietts whom we named dtdeiahles, from
their attempts to allumine the torch of difcord even
in our dillant country. lt I do not miilake the epoch,
a more clnfe and intimate conneélion was formed on
account of certain copperplutes which you had en.
graved.
rivers, &c. This empire abounds with like canals, many
of which run ten leagues ina raight line; they {upply molt
oi the cities with provi ons. Their bridges have a bold;
ncfs and magni cence {uperior to any thing of the kind that
Europe can produce. rand we, weak, tri ing, pitifulin all
our public works, we employ our ingenuity, labour, and
wonderful knowledge, in ormmeming objeé ts of mere
vanity, in ere ingmagni cent bawbles; almo all that we
call mn er-pieces ofart are nothing more than the {ports of
children.
F f 3
330 THE GAZETTES.
gmved. That art was then new to us, and highly
admired. We have zice aimoft equalled you. O,
I under and you; the de gns 0f thofe plates repre-
fented battles; they were fent to us by that poetic
monarch to whom Voltaire addre ed a beautiful ode;
and our king having charged his be arti s with
their execution, fent them as a prefent to The (barm-
iug emperor of C/Jina.-- Right. Since that time .the
intercourfe has been e ablifhed, and by degrees the
{ciences have paired from one country to the other,
like bills of exchange. The Opinions of one man
have become thofe of the univerfe. It is printing,
that noble invention, which has propagated this light.
The tyrants of human reafon, with their hundied
hands, have not been able to {top 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 every objeé t with a pure and du-
rable fplendcr.
The ba inado is no longer prat tifed in China ;
and the mandarins do not now refemble the heads of
a college; the common people are not othful and
fraudulent, as the greateft pains has been taken to
improve their minds; ignominious puniihments no
longer crui h them to the earth; they have been in-
fpired with notions of honour. We confiantly vene-
mte Confucius, who was altnoft cotemporary with
your Socrates, and Who, likeliim, did not fubtilize
on the principal of Beings, but contented himfelf
with declaring that nothing is bid from him, and that
he will puniih vice and reward virtue. Our Confucius
had
THE GAZETTES. 33.;
had one advantage over the Grecian fage; he did
not boldly attack thofe religious prejudices, which,
for want of a more noble fupport, were the ba s of
the morals of the people; he waited patiently, till
truth, without tumult and labour, muld exert its
own power. In iott, it was he, who proved that
:1 monarch mutt neceffarily be a philofopher to govern
.his people ju ly. Our emperor {till holds the
plow ; but it is not an aét of vain oeconomy or puerile
o en-tation. . . .
Urged by 21 define to read and hear at the fame
time, while I li cned on one lide, my eye, not lets
curious, ran over the pages ofthis gazette. I read as
foiiows.
akikak
75mm, 1/): capital ofj ufan, 25/1: . . . .
The defcendants of the great Taico, who caufed
Duiti, to be regarded as an impotent, though revered
idol, have jull; tran ated the Spirit of Laws, and the
Treatife on Crimes and Punifhments.
The venerabie Amida has been conduc ted through
all the reets; but no one offered himfelt to be crufh-
ed by his chariot-wheels.
A free entrance is granted at Japan ; and every
one there eagerly pro ts by the arts of foreigners.
Suicrde is no longer a \ iit-ue among thefe people;
they
3 3 a THE GAZETT ES.
. ,. «
they have dtfeoveted that it was the coniequtnce ct
defpair, o: of a. foolilh and crimiml infen bihty.
*ekil
P553 , t/Je. . . .
The king of Per a has dined with his brothers,
who have remarkable ne eyes. They af x} in the
government of the empire: their printipal employ
ment is to read the difpatches. The facred books
of Zoroa et 21nd Sadder are conftzmtly read and re-
fpefted; but there is now no mention made Omear,
or of Ali.
IWEX/CZI, 1/)3 . . . .
his cityhas completely regained the ancient
fpiendor it enjoyed under the auguf t government of
princes defcended from the renownej Montezuma.
Our emperor, on his advancement to the throne,
rebuilt the palace in the form it had In the days of
The Indians no longer go barefoot
They have ereéted in the great
extended on the
his ance ors.
and without linen.
fquare the ame of Gatimozin,
burning coals; and unler it are wrote thefe words!
Am! I, am. I on :1 56d ofrz x .9
Pray tell me, I {aid to the Mandarin, is it then
fmbid to name the empire of "New Spain ?1 He rephed
Vv hen the avenger of the New VV-orid had drove
away
THE GAZETTES. 333
away the tyrants, (the talents of Mahomet and Caefar
united would not have nearly equalled thofe of that
onderful man) this formidable deliverer contented
himfelf with being a legi utor. He laid down the
fword, to difpiay to the nations the facred code of
the laws. You cam form no idea of f0 tranfcendent
a genius ; his powerful eloquence refembled the voice
of the divinity defcended upon the earth. America
was divided into two empires ; that ofNorth 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 himfeif
fubjeét to a general law, almoft in the fame manner
as, in your time, the ourilhing empire of Germany,
while divided into various monarchies, formed but
one body under one general [overeigm
Thus the blood of Montezuma, for a long time
obfcured and concealed, again mounted the throne.
A11 thefe monarchs are patriot princes, who have no
other objeé t than the maintenance of public liberty.
This great man, this renowned legi utor, this negro,
in whom nature had exerted all her force, has ia-
fpired them with his great and virtuous {piriL Thefe
vaft Hates repofe and ouriih in a perfect conci d,
the ow, but infallible work of reafon. The ravages
of the ancient world, their cruel and childilh wars,
the rivers of blood idly waited, and the {hams for
having caufed them; in a word, the folly of ambition,
plainly
334 THE GAZETTES.
plainly demonltrated, has been fuf cient to 'induce
the new continent to make peace with the titular deity
of their country. In our days a war would dilhonour
a Rate, as robbery difhonours a private perfon. I
continued to read and lil ten.
*%#
PARAGUA2 , from {be city qftIJe A_ umptiw], i5: . . . .
\Ve have jul c held a folemn fea , in memory of
the abolition of that difgraceful avery to which this
nation had been reduced, under the defpotic empire
of the Jefuits. For fix centuries paft, we have re
garded it as a l petial favour of Providence that en-
abled us to drive out thofe wolf-foxes from their tail:
retreat. This nation, however, is not ingmte, for
it acknowledges the advantage of being raifed from
wretchednefs and inf truéted in agriculture and the
arts by thofe Jefuits. Happy, if they had contented
themfelves with in ruéting mankind, and giving them
{acted laws of morality.
From PHILADELPHIA, 1/13 m /al of Pemfyfvania,
tbs . . . .
This province, where humanity, faith, liberty,
concord, and equality, have taken refuge for more
than eight hundred years, is covered with the molt
elegant and ourilhing cities. Virtue has petformed
more here than courage has among other nations.
Thcfe
THE GAZETTES. 335
Thofe geherons quakers", the molt virtuous of man-
kind, by affording to the world a people that are all
brethren, have fervcd 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 thoufand examples of genero ty
and bene cence. It is Well known that they were
the rf t who refufed to fhed the blood ofman; and
that they regard war as a weak and barbarous frenzy.
It is they that have undeceived thofe nations who
were the miferable vié tims of the quarrels of their
kings. They have ju publifhed their annual ex-
hortation, in which are contained thofe praélical
virtues, which fet to their faith the teal of perfec.
tion.
Noxocco,
4* How can the princes of the North refrain from cover-
ing themfelves with immortal glory by banifhing avery
from their doniinions, by reftoring to the labourer of the
land at lea his perfonal liberty t How C(11) they be deafto
the cry of humanity, which conf tantly excites them to that
aét of glorious bene eence? By what motive can they be
induced to hold in an odious l'ervitude, and one that is con-
trary to their real intere , the molt indullrious part of their
zhjeél s, when they have before their eyes the example
0fthofe quakers who have given liberty to all their negro
Haves? How is it po ible for them not to be fen ble, that
their fubjeéts will be more faithful by being more free:
and that they mti ccafe to be uves ere they can become
men.
336 THE GAZETTES.
Il/Ionocco, t/Je . . . .
We have difcovered a comet that is going toward
the fun. This is the three hundred and fty- rft that
has been obferved nce the ereéting of our obferva-
tory. The obfervations made in the interiorparts of
Africa, correfpond exaé tly With ours.
They have put: to death an inhabitant who had
affaulted a Frenchman, in conformity to the ordi»
nance of our fovereign, whofe will it is that every
ranger {hall be regarded as a brother vvho is come
to vi t his intimate friends.
*akalé
SIAM, ti): . . . .
Our navigation makes a mo : a onifhing progrefs.
We have launched x ve els of three decks, which
are de ined for long voyages.
Our king prefents himfelf to all that de i'e to be-
hold his augufk perfnn. There is not a more affable
monarch exi ing, efpecially when he reforts to the
pagod of the great Sommonacodom.
The white eiephant is kept at the menagcry, but
merely as an objeé t of cmio ty, as he is perfeét in
the exercife 0f the riding-fchool.
From
THE GAZ-ETTES. 3 37
From ll): COAST qf' MALABAR, 1/]: . . . .
The widow . . . . who is young, handfom e, and.
adorned with every aecompliihment, has ncerely
deplored the death of her hufband, who was burned
alone; and after mourning, more in herieart than
in her chefs, has been re-manied to a young man,
by Whom: {he is aifo tenderly beloved. This new
conneétion hits rendered; her; Pcill more refpcétable to
all her {eHow-citizens.
* a k
From t/ze 2mm: qf M.4GELLAN,.t/M . . .
The-twenty fortunate i ands, who lived, without
knowing it, in all the innocence and happinefs of
the 'rit ages; are. lately united; they now for m an
aifodiau'on: truly fraternal and recipmcally ufeful.
From t/ae L/mn quAPoS", the . . . .
As we advance into this fth part of the. world,
our difcoveries become every day more exten ve and
intere ing. We are furprifed at its riches, fertility,
and itslnumerous inhabitants, who here live in con;
tinual peace. They mayjuf cly difdain our arts ; their
morality.- is ill- xnore admirable: than their'phy cs.
The
* The land of Papos is four thdufand leagues di ant
from. Paris.
G g
t 8 THE GAZETTES.,
d 3
The fun, in all thefe immenfe regions, more exten vc
than A a and Africa united, Beholds not one unfor-
tunate being; while Europe, {'0 dintinutive, to poor,"
and divided into fo many parts. has almo ; hardened
ber- foil with human bones.
From the [ and of TAMI in ii}: South Sea, tbs. . . .
When M. Bougainville difcovered this happy
i and where reign the manners of the golden agc,he
did not fail to take poll'e iou of it in the name of his
mailer. He at 12111 re-emharked and took with him
a Taitiau, who in I770 attraéled the curio ty of Pa-
ris for a week. It was not then known that a French-
man induceJ by the beauty 'of the élimate, the can-
dour of itsinhabitants, and (till more by the mifery
which threatened that innocent people, concealed
himfelf at the time his .comrades embarkedp The
ve 'el had no fooner difappeared, than he prefented
himfelf to the people; he n embled them in a large
plain, and made the'following fpeech:
I have chofe to remain among you for my own
«.happinefs, and for yours. .Receive me as a bro-
ther; you will fee that I deferve that title, as I
o er to fave you from the moft horrid calamity. 0
happy people, who live in all the mplicxty of
nattire! little do you think of the miferies that
threaten ydu! Thefe (lrangers you have enter;
tained, and who feemed fo polite, Whom you have
loaded with civilities and prefents, and whom at
this
THEGAZETTES. 339
thisl moment I betray,if it be treachery to prevent
the ruin of a virtuous people; thefe rangers, my
countrymen, will foon return, and bring with them
all thofe plagues that af iét other countries; they
willrinfeét you with poifon's and maladies of which
you have no conception; they will load you with
fetters; and, by their cruel arguments they will
prove it to be for your advantage. Behold this
pyramid they have crafted, which declares, that
this land is already dependent on them, and marks
you as the fubjeé ts of a monarch,', of whofe very
name you are ignorant. .You are all Ide'ftined to
obeyinew laws. They will {trip the harveft from
your lanas, will defpoil your trees of their fruit,
and feize on your perfons. That happy equality
Which reigns among you will be abolifhed. Per-
f haps, your blood will bathe thofe owers that now
bend under the weight of your innocent embraces.
Love is the god of this i aud; it is confecruted,fo
to fay, to his' worthipt Hatred and vengeance will
take his'place. You are yet even ignoi unt of the
ufe of arms; they will teach you what is war, mur-
der, and avery. . . .
At thefe words, the people turned pale, and re-
mained xed iu aftonifhment. Thus a company of
children, interrupted in the midlt of their pleating
fports, will be feized with terror, when a dreadful
voice {hall tell them the world is at an end, and make
them fen ble of calamities that their tranquil minds
had never conceived.
G g 2 The
The orator cominued, People, whom I love,
and for whom my heart yearns! There is yet a
way to preferve yourtiibert y and your happinefs.
Let every (tmnger that lands on your cea-{t be
{acri ced to the fafety of your country. The de-
cree is cruel ; but the love of your children and of
.your po erity ihould make .you embrace it. You
would be more fhocked, were I to relate to yon
the horrid cruelties that the Europeans have ex.
!' ercifed toward people, who, like you, were Weak
" and innocent. .Guard yourfelves againft the con,
" tagious breath that proceeds from then: hes; ev'en
their very [miles are gnals of the miferies With
which they intend to overwhelm you.
The heads of the nation a 'embled, and by an
unanimous voice inve ed him with the chief autho-
rity who had been their g61\ 31: i benefaétor, by pre-
ferving them from fuch horrible C i dmlthS. The
decree of death ngaini c every {tranger was executed
with a virtuous and patriotic rigour; as it was: for-
merly in Taurida, by a peopie in appeara'nce 21's mno-
cent, but jealous oi forming any connee hon With na-
tions who were zilfui in axts, but at the fame time,
cruel and tymnnic.
They write, that this law has been lately aboiifhed,
hecnufc hy repeated information; they have learned
that Europe is no longer the enemy of Lhe other three
parts of the globe; that it does not now attack the
liberty of peaceful nations far dl ant from it; that
' i '= 1 ' fevem
it 15 not lame illy yaious of me poxxer of its {*0ch
THE GAZETTES. 341.
fovereigns; that it is ambitions of forming friends,
and not making aves ;_ then; its vefTels go in fea'rch
of examples of mple and re ned manners,'and not
of contemptibleriches, &c. &c. &c.
**%
PETERsBE/RGH, tbe . . . .
The mo : noble of all titles is that of legi ator. A
fo'vereign then approaches neareft to the Divinity,
when he gives fagacious and durablellaws to a natioh.
We Hill repeat with rapture the augu : name of Ca-
tharine II. We no longer talk of her conque ts and
her triumphs, but of her laws. Her ambition was'
to di ipate the darknefs of ignorance, and to fub i-
tute, in the room of barbarous cuitoms', laws di ated
by humanity. More ha ppy, i nore glorious than Pe.
ter the Great, becaufe more humane, {he applied her-
feiF, notwitliitanding all oppo te examples, to make
her people ourifhing and happy; which they were,
indc ance of public and dome ic orms that {hook
her throne. By her courage, {he was enabled to for-
tify a 'crown that the univerfe beheld with pleai'ure
on her brow. We mutt go very far back into anti-
quity to nd a iegi ator of equal dignity and fagacity.
The chains that bound the labourers of the land
were broken. She raifed her front, and {aw them
with delight exalted to the rank of men. The fa-
bricators of luxury no longer found their profe ions
more lucrative or more honourable. The genius of"~
humanity cried aloud to all the inhabitants of the
Northr leni 5; free; and remember future generations,
G g 3' t1»:
3V4; _ THE GAZETTE s.
tlmt it"it la (.1 rwtmtm you ow: all 't/Je a pim yqu
ery'ng.
At the left numbering of the inhabitants of all the
Ruf es, they amounted to forty- ve millions of pet:-
ple. In 1769, they counted only fourteen minions;
but, by the fagacity of the legi ator', her humane
code of laws, and the throne of her fucceifors being
rmiy eftabhfh'ed by their genero ty and affabilit'y,
the population of this empire is become equal to ,its
extent, which iS'great'et than that'of Augu us er,
Alexander. The coni titution of government, more-
over, is nolonger military; the favereign Calls him-
felf oni'y autocrate, the univerfe in genetal is too
enlightetied to bear the former odious goveram mt
*%i k
IVARMW, 1/): . . . .
An anarchy the mo abfurd and injurious to the
rights of man, who is born free, and the mo : op-
pre ive to the people, no longer troublesPoland.
The renowned Catherine II. had formerly'a won-
derful in uence over the affairs of this kingdom;
and they {till remember with gratitude, that it was
{he
4' He who had {aid fourfcore years nce, that at Peterf-
burgh they would, at this time, follow our modes, our pe-
rukes, our coifs, and comic operas, would cettainly have
pa ed for a madman. We mu patiently confent to be
called fools, when we publifh ideas that extend beyond the
horizon of the vulgar. Ali things in Europe tend to a fud-
den (evolution.
THE? GAZETTES. 34 3
ne .wh'ofgavé tothe peafant his perfonal 1ibetty ,l-axidl
the property of his 'effetfts. *The king died'ia't it laft
night: his fon mounted the throne in peace the fame
eeening, and received the homage of ail the palatine
nobles.- I
*1:#
CONSTANTINOPLE, Mu. . . .
Itwas a_great happinefs for the world \vhex t the
T-ur'k, in the. eighteenth century, was driveit (int of
Europe'Every friend to humanity rejoiced at the fall
QfIhat banefu-l empire, where thevmon er Defpotifm
was careffed. by the infamous bafhaws, who only pro-
rated themfelves- beforehim, that they might ex-
ceed _his_hortid oppre ions. The fans, a long time
exiled, re-entered the po 'e ions of their fathers, not
deje ed, but. triumphant, robufi, in a Rate tai im-
prove them. The ufurpersof the throne of the Con
[tantines funk into the bogs of their ancient. marihes;
,and thofe barriers that Super ition, and its infepara
hle and dreadful colleague, Tyranny, had'placed
again reafon and the arts, from the rivers SaVe and
the Danube, to the borders of the ancient Tanais,
were broke down by a {people of the North, with the
iron hand that fupported them. Philofophy again
appeared in her original fanétuary, and the country
of Themi ocles and Miltiades again embraced the
{tattle of Liberty: It rofe 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 eeping,
Qpprefféd
344i THE GAZETTES."
oppreued by the weight of barbarities, caufed by a
vizier'ana a bow Itritig; while his va : 'dominions,
defp oiletl and 1adguifhing, were plunged in thev ee
ofdéath.
'The animating breath of. liberty now gives them
freih vigour. It has a creative fpirit that produces
prodigies unknown to atiifh nations. The dominions
of the Grand Signior .were at rft poKefTed by his
neighbours; but two centuries after they formed a
republic, that commerce renders ourithing and for-
midable
They had given a grand mafquerade, where form-
erly was the feraglio ; the moft delicious wities, ahd
every other refrefhment, was there provided, with a
profu on that did not in the leatt interfere with the
moft re ned delicacy. The following evening they-
re refented the tragedy- of Mahomet, in the theatre
built on the ruins of the ancient mofque called'S t;
Sophia.
#1» q: #-
POM'E, tbe. . .. *.
The emperor ot italy has received at the Capitol;
the vi j: of the biihop of Rome, who very refpeétfully
offered
* How execrable is the name ofRome to my ears ! How
fatal has been that pity to the univerfel From its r foun-
dationl owing to a handful of ruf 'ans, how faithful has it
been
THE GAZETTES. 34.5
offered up his prayers to heaven for the pr ervation
of that monarc-h s days, and the profper ity of his
dominions._
been to its original in itution. Where {hall we nd amore
voracious,- fubtfe, and inhuman ambition? It hath extended
the chains of oppre ion over the whole known werld.
Neither rengt h, nor valou'r, nor the mo heroic virtues,
has been ahie to prefe'rve mankind from avery. What
demon has pre ded over its Conque s, and precipitated
the ight Gfits eagles ! O, fatal republic ! "W'hatmon fh'ous
defpotifm has ever had fuch de e abie effet ts ! 0 Rome,
howl hate thee ! What a peeple are they who go about
the earth de roying the liberties nfothers, and at la deft'roy
their own! What 'a people were 'they, who, when (ur
rounded by all the arts, could enjoy the entertainment of
gladiators, x a curious eye on the wrelch whofc blood
gufbed forth, and required the vié cim to airtime an uncon-
cern'for death, to give the lie to naturein his luff laments,
by appearing delighted with the applaufe ofmyt iads of bar-
barous hands ! \Vhat a people were they, who, after having,
a umed an nnjutt dominion over the univerfe, could fuffer,
without complaining, to many 'emperors to rule them with
a rod of iron, and who {hewed a fervility as bafe as their
tyranny had been arrogant. But all this Was tri ing. A
fuper iiion, themo abfard and mo ridiculous, a u ttted
in itstum, the throne of defpotic potver, and had'for he'i
mini ers Ignorance :tnd Ba r barity. After Rome had de
voured mankind in the name of its country, it devoured
them in the name of God. Then blood was fhed for the
chimerical fervice of heaven, 3. cruelty of which the world
had produced no inftance. Rome Was the infe ious glilf
from' whence exhaled thofe fatal opinions thatdivided man-
kind, and armed them ngain each other for phantoms.
Sooh it engendered, under the name of pontiffs, 'who called
themfeives the vi czu s of God, the mutt odious mon ers.
\Vhen compared with thofe tygers that bore the keys and
the triple crown, Caligula, Nero, 21nd Domitian, were but
vulgar
346 THE GAZETT ES.
dbminions". 'l he bi iop returned 011 foot, with ail
the humility of a true {ervant'of God. All thbfe
beautiful
vulgar villians. The people, as if {truck b) a pctrifying
rod, vegetated a thoufnnd years under adefpotic theocraey.
The facerdotal empire covered .2111- concealed all in. its
darknefs. Human beings no longer exifted buteto obey the
iecrees of a dei ed mortal. He fpoke, and his voice was
the commanding thunder. Then were {een croifa des, a
tribunal of inqui tors, profcriptions, anathemas, excbm-
munications: invitible thunders, that. were hurled to the
ends of the. earth. Thofe Chriftians, with faith and rancour
in their hearts, were not able to, fatisfy themfelves with
murders: :1 new world, a world entire, was neceWary to
glut their rage. They would compel mankind by force to
adopt their chimeras. It was the image of the crofs that
was the fignal for thofe horrible deva ations: wherever it
appeared, blood owed in torrents : and even at this day
the fame religion authorizes the {lavery of wretches, who
learCh, in the entrails oflhc earth,th;1t gold of which Rome
is the molt {humelefs idolator.
Thou city offeven hills! what {warms of calamities have
ifTued fromthine infernal womb! What art thou! Whence
derive thou thy power over this unhappy globe? Has the
male ccnt Arimmis, the origin of evil, xed his feet with«
in thywalls? Art thou the gate at which misfortunes enter?
Do thy foundations touch the 1110f of hell? When will that
fatal talilman be broken, which, though it has loft {ome-
what of1ts powei, is {till fo b meful to mankind P ORome,
how I hate thee! May at lea the memory of thy iniquities
remain! may it con itute thy infamy, and never be e 'etced l
and may every heart, burning with jun; indignation, be
lled, like mine, with horror at thy name!
* The throne of defpotic power is xed 011 the altar,
hichonly l'upports it to {wallow it up.
THE GAZETTES. 347
beautiful antique monuments that were caPt into the
Tybertwhere they have lain buried for {0 many
years, have been lately taken up and placed in dif-
letentparts of Rome. They have found means of
recove1ing them without infet tin'b
r the ail: with any
dangerous exhalation.
The bifhop of Romeis continually employed in
forming a code of rational and affeéting morality.
He has publilhed the Catechifm'of human'renfon .
He particularly applies hirnfelf in fur nifhing a new
degree of evidence to thofe truths that are of real
importance to man. He keeps a regilter of all
generous, charitable, and illuftrious aétions; he makes
them public, and chara erifes every fpecies ofvirtue.
Judge of kings and of nations, by virtue of his
ardent love for humanity, he reigns by that invi blc
empire which inve s him with the fpirit of wit'dom, of
ju ice, and truth. He foftens,11e ccnciliates the dif-
ferences of mankind. His bulls, wrote in 2111 lan-
guages, announce not obfcure, ufelefs dogmas, or
fentences of eternal divi ons, but expatiate on the at-
tributes of the Divinity, of his univerfal prefence,
0f the life to come, and the fublimity of virtue. The
Chinefe, the Japanefe, the. inhabitants of Surinam
and Kamfehatka, read them with edi cation.
*i ae
NAPLES, I/Je . . .
Our academy of belles lettres has given the prize
to a candidate named - . The fubjeét was, an
exaé t determination of what cardinals were in the
eighteenth
~\___ _____ ' _ '
348 THE GAZE'IVI ES.
eighteenth century, the principles and manners of
that extraordinary fort of men; what paffedm the
prifonof the conclave, and the precife time-when they
became again what they were in the mfaney- 0t
Chriitianity. The fuccefsful author has fully fatns ed
the inquiries of the academy. He has .even givch a
defcription of the cap and red hat. This differtatlon
is not lefs enterta-ing than elaborate.
They have-reprefented at a booth-in t-he-fair', the
farce of St. Januarius, which was formerlytreatec
in fo ferious a manner. All the world knowsthat
his blood was fuppofed to liquify every year. 'l hey
have parodicd this-ridiculous ery m a manner highly
eomir-
The trealhres of our Lady of Loretta", that ufed'
to~be employed in feeding and clothing the poor,
have been lately applied to they con ruétmg an aque-
duét, as there are no longer-any poor. The riche:
o
* For fteen centuries paft werhave feen fcarce anyother
public buildings in all Europe than Gothic churches, with
high pointed eeples. The piftures we there fee offer \ ler);
few fnbjefts but what are hideousand difgu ful. .Butrw. 1a,
monaf teries richly endowed ! What opulent hnivei mes
What afylums open to idlenefs and a theological Jargin
It was, however, at the time the people werem tlfiefgreate L
poverty, that the {ecret was found of ereftllig thee ump 111d
ou s cathedrals and monafteries. How oun nng wou
thofe nations haye been, ifthey had employedin aqueduéts-
and canals, thofe immenfe fume that were ,fquandered away.
in enrichingprie s and nuns ?
2
THE GAZETTES. 349
of the ancient cathedral of Toledo, de royed in the
year 1867, ought to be applied to the fame purpofe.
See on this fubjeét the learned di ertations of-- .,
in 1999.
1514mm, t/Je .
Enaéled, that no perfon {hall take the name of
Dominic, as it is that of the barbarian who formerly
e ablifhed the inqlli tion*. Enaéted, that the name
of Philip II. {hall be erafed from 'the lit} ofthe
Spanifh monarchs.
The fpirit of indu ry is every day more manifell,
by the ufeful difcoveries they make in all the arts. The
academy offciences have juft given a new fy em 0f
elet tricity, founded on more than twenty thoufand
feparate experiments.
*9k9lé
LONDON, t6: . . . .
This city is three times as large as it was in the
eighteenth century. The whole rength of the nation
may
* Every mind in which fanatici'fm has not {h' ed all fen-
timents of humanity, muff be di rafted with indignation
and pity on the thought ofthofe barbarities, thofe udied
tortures that religious fury has incited men to invent. The
flories of Cannibals and Anthropophagi are lefs horrible.
Torquemada, inqui tor of Spain, boa ed ofhaving de roy
ed, by re and (word, more than fty thoufand heretics.
We every where nd bloody traces ofthat religious ferocity.
Is that the divine law which calls itfelf the {upport of
politics and morality!
Hh
350 THE GAZETTES.
may refide, without any iii confequence, in the euph-
tal, a s commerce is the foul of it, and the commerce
of a republican people does not draw after it thofe
fatal evils that attend a monarchy. England con-
I tantiy maintains its ancient fyftem. It is good, he-
caufe it enriches, not the monarch, but the people;
from whence arifes that equality which prevents ex-
ce ive opulence and excc ive mifery.
The Engliih are con antiy the r : people in Eu-
rope. They enjoy the ancient glory ofhaving of-
fered to their neighbours, an example of that form
of n overnment which becomes men jealous of their
rights and their happinefs.
They no longer regard the anniverfary m" the
death of Charles I. They are more perfeé t in their
politics. A new Itat'ue of Cromwell has been lately
creéted; the colours of the marble are {0 intimately
blended, that it is hard to fay whether it be black or
white. The affemblies of the peepie will be here-
after held in the prefence of this ame, as that great
man' was the real author of their happy and immu-
table con itution 9 .
The
" J. J. Rou eau attributes the rength, the {plendon
and liberty of England, to the de ru ion of thofe wolves
with which it was formerly infef ted. Happy nation! It has
drove away wolves a thoufand times more dangerous, and
ftich as {1111 defoiate other countries.
* Alan} obje : [able br/I a! a di ance; 1'! rwoulfi be happy
for u: if we could re om Tommyfrom the fame pom! of ght
will; Ibisforeignrr.
I
THE GAZETTES. 35 I
The Scotch and Iriih have prefented a petition to
parliament, that the names of Scotland and Ireland
may be aboliihed, and that they may make but one
body, fpirit, and name, with the Englilh, as they are
one by that patriotic fpirit with which they are ani
mated.
*atit
VIENNA; tbe . . . .
Au ria, who has ever provided Europe with :1
race of amiable prince 'es, announces that the now
has {even marriageable beauties, who will efpoufc
thofe princes of the earth that have given the faireft
proofs of tendernefs for their people.
* -ik
From the HAGUE, 2/26 . . . .
This laborious people, who have made a garden
of a foil the moit marthy and barren, who have
brought all the produé tions fcattered over the earth
to a fpot that fcarcely produces a int, are inceffantiy
exerci ng their furpri ng indu ry, and thawing the
world, what fortitude, patience, and perfeverance
can perform. An extreme thirit for gold no longer
prevails among them. This republic has become
more powerful by difcovering thofe fnares that were
fecretly intended to de roy it. They found that it
was more eafy to fet bounds to the enraged ocean,
than to re an iu dious metal; and they now de-
fend
H h 2
352 THE GAZETTES.
fend themfelves with as much refolution again :
luxury as againi t the a aults of the feat.
PAR , lb: .
Twelve ve els, of x hundred tuns each, are air-
rived at this capital, and have brought plenty of pho-
vi ons. We now eat fh without paying ten times
their original value. The new bed of the Seine, dug
from Rouen to this city,requiring fome reparations,
they have a igned the lm of a million and u halt~ of
livres, to be taken from the public treafury. That
fum will be fu icient, as they make no ufet 0f regi ers
or undertakers.
A mo devouring, infolent, puerile, capricious and
enormous luxury, no longer reigns on the borders of
the Seine; but one that promotes indu ry, that crea
ates new commodities, and adde to our conveniences;
an ufeful and neceflary luxury, { 9 ea-fy to be di in-
guifhed, and which ought never to be cenfounded
with that of pride and o entation, which infults the
liation of the common people, and tends to render it .
wretched by its effeéts and example*
The
* When {hall we ceafe to fee that mon rous inequality
of fortunes, that exce ive opulence, which produces (a
much extreme indigence, and is the fource of all our
crimes! When {hall we ceafe to fee the poorluhourer,
unable to relieve himfelf by his indu ry, from a mifery in
which he is held by the very laws of his country! Another
relch.
THE GAZETTES. 3 53
They have repaired the ame 'of'Voltaire, which
the literati, the moft di ihguifhed by their taleti t s-
and their probity, ereéted while he was yet living.
His right foot is placed on the ignoble front of F***;
but as the public contempt has much'dis gured the
face of that Zoilus, they would repair it in a manner
that {ball Ihew all fenfelefs critics the fate that will
attend them. As they have not pieferved the per-
ttait of that fcribler, who wrote a periodical Work
forbread; they want to know the head of what bafe,
envious and malignant animal they lhall put in ité
Read?
The Pari ans have now juft notions of their na~
tural, civil, and political rights. They no longer
upidly imagine that they have a igned to another
the property of their perfons and e eéts. They are
(till fond of hon mots, of {bugs and vaudeville s;
but they have learned, at the fame time, to give a
folidity to thofe pleafantries.
*9k'ak
I turned and returned thefe loofe fheets; I {till
fought fomething curious. I looked for the article
Verfailles,
{lretching forth a trembling hand, fearful at once of the
looks and the repulfe of his fellow-mortal! When {hall
we ceafe to fee thofe moniiers, that turn away their heads,
and refufe him a morfel of bread! \Vhen will thofe very
men ceafe to famifh a city, by making the pruvilions as
dear its in a tOWn that is beiieged! But the nances are
exhau ed, commerce in general nks, the ILlllOIl is har
mired with miferies; all fuffers, and the manners of people
confequently {uffer a horrid depravation. Alas! alas!
H 11 3
354 THE GAZETTES.
Ver tilles, but my eager ght could never nd it.
The mailer ofithe houfe perceived my embarra l
ment, and afked. me what I fought. The moft in-
terefting article in the world, I replied; news from
the place where the court commonly relides; in (hott,
the article of Verfailles; f0 particular, f0 various, and
interefting in the French gazette*. He fmiled and
faid; I know not what is become of the French
gazette, ours is that of truth, and is never guilty of
the {in of omi ion. Our monarch con antly relides
in the capital. He is furrounded by the regards of
the people. His ear is conllantly open to their ,cries.
He does not hide himfelf in a fort of defert, fur-
rounded by a herd of gilded flaves. He re des in
the centre of his dominic-us, as the fun in the centre
of the univerfe. That, .moreover, 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 direétly to his
tlltone. To check that voice would be to rebel
againfl the laws; for the monarch is made for the
people, and not the people for the monarch.
CHAP.
* How {evere a fcom ge is printing, when it tells a whole
nation, that, on fuch a day, {tich a man put on at cottrt the
habit of :1 (lave! That another difhonoured himfelfwnh all
the anlp imaginable! And that a third had at leng'h ob-
mine! the reward of his infamous conduft! What a toilet.
tiun of in piditics! What a grovtllmg wretched yle?
[355]
C H A P. XLIII.
THE FUNERAL GRATION OF A PEASANT,
CURIOUS t0 fee what was become of that
Verfailles where I had formerly beheld on one de,
the fplendor of a king in the highelt degree of often:
tation; and on the other a race of clerks, infolent
fcribblers, extending their impertinent idlenefs t0 the
highe : degree po ible. I dreamt that like Jolhua;
I {topped the courfe of the fun, as it was haftily deé
clining; it ood Hill at my player, as at that of the
Jewifh general; and my intention was, I think, lefsi
criminal than his.
I was on the road in a can iage, that was not a pot-
de-chambre*. Falling by a village I {aw a company
of Iieafants, their eyes dejec led and Wet with tears,
who were entering a temple. The light [truck me;
I ordered the carriage to (top, and followed them in.
I {aw in the middle of the temple the corpfe of an
old man, in the habit of a peafant, whofe white hairs
hung down to the ground. The paftor of the village
mounted a fmall eminence, and (aid:
My fellow countrymen,
The man you here fee was for ninety years a be.
nefaé tor to man kind. He was the {on ofa hutbzmd-
man;
" This is the name given to the hackney coaches that go
between l aris and the court. They are commonly lled
with valets, that go to Verfailles in~ fearch of plunder, and
may Iherefore properly be fuid to carry the dregs of France.
356 THE FUNERAL ORATION
man, and in infancy his feeble hands attempted
to guide the plough. As {eon as his legs could
fupport him he followed his fatherin the furrows.
When years had given him that {trength for which
he long wiihed, he {did to his father, Ceetfe from
your labours: and from that time, each n ng fun
has feen him till the ground, fow, plant, and reap
the harve . He has cultivated more than two
thoufand acres of frefh land. He has planted the
vine in all the country round about; and to him
you owe thofe fruit trees that nourifh your village:
and a ord you {belter from the fun. It was not
avarice that made him unweatied in his labours;
no, it was the love of indu ry for which he was
wont to fay, man was born; and the great anel
{acted belief that God regarded him whert culti-
vating his lands for the nourithment of 1115 ch11-
dren.
He married, and had twenty- ve children. He
fomied them all to la ~our and to virtue, and they
have ail maintained an unbiemifhed charaéter. He
has taken care to marry them propetly, and led
them with a fmiling afpeft to the altar. All his
gtand children have been branch: up in his houfe;
and Yr-Hl know what a pure,u.r1 tettbiejny dwells
" upon their countenances. A11 thefe bnthren love
one another, becauf e he 1. VFd them, 11nd made
them fee what pieafure-he found in loving them.
On days of rejoicing, he was the EN} t0 ound
the rural in ruments; and his looks, 1115 vmce,
and
OF A PEASANT. 357
and ge ure, you know, were the ghals for univer-
fal mirth. You Cannot but remember his gaiety ,
the lively eff ec t ofa peaceful mind, and his fpeeches
full of fenfe and wit; {01 he had the gift of exer-
" cifing an ingenious ra1llery without giving offence.
He cherithed ordei, from an internal fenfe he had
of viitue. Whom has he ever refufed to ferve?
When did he thew himielf unconcerned at public
or private misfortunes? When was he indi 'etent
in his country s caufe? His heart was devoted to
it; i11' his co nverfation he cdhftantl y wifhed for its
profperity.
When ,age had bent his body, and his legs trem-
bled under, him, you have feen him mount to the
fummit of a hill, and giiIe le 'ons of experience to
the young hufbandmen. His memory was the
faithfui depo totyxof dbfervations made during the
courfe of fourfcore fucce ive years, on the changes
of the feveral feafons. Such a tree, planted by
his hand,in fuch a year, recalled to his memory
the favour or the wrath of heaven. He had by
heart what other men forget, the fruitful harve s,
the deaths and legacies to the poor. He feemea
to be endowed with a prophetic fpirit, and when
he meditated by the light of the moon, he knew
with what feeds to enrich his garden. The even-
ing before his death he faid, My children, Iam
drawing nigh to that Being, who is the Author
of all good, whom I have always adored, and in
whom I truft. To-morrow prune your pear-trces,
and
353 THE FUNERAL ORATION, &e.
. and atthe fetting of the m, huty me at- the head
of my grounds.
You are now, children, gging to place him there,
" and ought to imitate his example. But, before
you inter- thefe white hairs, which have {0 long
attraéted rei pe , behold with reverence his hard-
ened hands; behold the honourable marks of his
long labours.
The orator then held up one ol' his cold hands.
It had acquired twice the uf'ual ze by continual
labour, and feemed to be invulnerable to the point
of the briar, or the edges of the' int. He then
refpec tfully killed the hand, andk all the company
followed his example.
His children bore him to the grave on thxjee {heaye's
of corn, and buried him as he had de red, placing
on his grave, his hedging-bill, his fpade, and a
plough-Ihare.
Ah! I cried, if thofe men celebrated by BoiTuet,
Flechier, Mafcaron, and Neuville,'had the hundredth
part of the virtue of this villager, I would pardon
them their pompous and futile eloquence.
CHAP.
[359]
C H A P. XLIV.
VERSAILLES.
I ARRIVED at Verfailles, and looked round
for that fuperb palace, from whence iffued the de iny
of many nations. What was my furprife! I could
perceive nothing but ruins, gaping walls, and mutil-
lated atues; fome porticos, half demolifhcd, afforded
a confufed idea of its ancient magni cence. As I
Walked over thefe ruins, I {aw an old ma'n tting upon
the capital of a column. Alas! I {aid-to him, what
is become of this vaft palace? It is fallen.
How? It was cruihed by its own weight. A
man in his impatient pride would have here force'l
nature. He hailily heaped buildings upon build-
ings; greedy of gratifying his capricious will, he
haraffed his fubjeéts ; all the wealth of the nation
was here [wallowed up; here owed a ream of
tears to compofe thofe refervoirs of which there
are now no traces. Behold all that remains of that
coloilus which a million of hands ereéted with f0
'f much painful labour. The foundations of this
_ palace were laid in iniquity ; it was an image of
the wretched greatnefs ofhim that builtit". The
kings,
*We magnify thofe pompous fpeélacles given to the
Roman people; and from them we would infer the grandeur
ofthat empire; btit it was wretched when it began to ex.
hibit thofe fattuous fhews, in which the fruits of their
viaories were di ipated with prodigality. Who built their
circufes, their theatres, their bathsi. VJho dug thofe
arti cial lakes, where a whole eet was exercifed as in open
{ea P
360 VERSAIILES.
kings, his fucceffors, were obliged to y from it,
"left they {hould be crufhed by it» fall. 0, may
thefe ruins cry aloud to all fovcreigns; that they
who abufe a momentary power, only difcover their
_weaknefs to future generations. At there words,
he fhed a ood of tears, and turned his eyes to
heaven With a mournful, repenting look. Why do
you weep? I faid. 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 am Lewis XIV. who built
this rueful palace. The Divine Ju ice has again
illumined the torch of my days, to make me can-
template more nearly my deplorable enterprize.
How tran ent are the moments of pride; I muff
now and for ever weep. O, that I had but
known* . . . . . I was going to afk him a que ion,
when one of the adders, with which this place {warm-
ed, darted from a broken column, gng me on the
neck, and I waked.
fea? Thofe crowned mon ers, whofe tyrannic pride cmfhed
one half of the people to divert the other. The enormous
boa ed pyramids of Egypt are nothing more than monu-
ments of defpotifm. Republics may confirut t acqiledufts,
canals, highways, and public places; but every palacethat
is erefted by an arbitrary monarch, forms the foundation of
an approaching calamity.
*Placed in Ihe middle of Europe, commanding the
ocean, and by the long extent and winding of its coa s,
over the feas of Flanders, Spain, and Germany, commu-
nicating with the Mediterranean, &c. what a kingdom is
Francel and what peuple {eem to have more right to be
happy!
THE END.