rv< >1 f MEMOIRS OF THE LATE NOEL DESENFANS, ESQ. MEMOIRS NOEL DESENFANS CONTAINING ALSO, PRESERVING THE PORTRAITS 2i?tst If an officer falls in distinguishing him- self, his grateful country pays his respected memory the tribute of a monument ; but why should the equally courageous and surviving hero be refused a mark of dis- tinction, far superior to pecuniary recom- pence or momentary honours ? for such are orders and other dignities, which, how- ever desirable, must end so soon. Indeed, the compass of life is so narrow, that our rewards for heroic deeds are too little, and too little enjoyed. g 4 88 How flattering to a Briton, and any sub- ject of the sister kingdom, that as a proof of his having deserved well of his king and country, they have voted his image in a public gallery, to be beheld with pleasure and gratitude by his contempo- raries, and to remain there in veneration to a remote posterity ! A more flattering wish ambition cannot form ; nor can a more desirable reward be offered to a dis- interested and truly great man. No opposition can be made to this plan, on account of a dearth of distinguished characters; for, since the accession of the Brunswick Family to the throne, no reign has been more illustrated than this, by eminent men, both in the navy and army, by orators, ministers, divines, lawyers, phi- losophers, physicians, authors, artists, &c : 89 and as talents and sciences are making daily progress, and naval and military virtues, loyalty, patriotism, and courage, are more fervent than ever, we may look forward to an ample field of merit for us to select new subjects. Should it, however, be judged more proper, the Gallery may begin from an earlier epoch ; as I dare say many bad pic- tures, though, perhaps, true likenesses of distinguished characters, may be found for our artists to make superior copies from. The second Gallery also, to be built as soon as the fund is adequate to the expence. This will become the grand object of ex- ertions for the best artists of every descrip- tion ; here the Sculptor will deposit his 90 busts and statues ; the Architect his plans ; the Engraver with his prints will enrich the port-folios appropriated for that pur- pose ; the Landscape, Sea, and Archi- tecture Painters will display the grand views of art and nature, whilst the Histo- rical and Battle Painter will record the glorious actions, and brilliant victories of his country. If ever emulation stimulated genius, it must be on this occasion ; not because the works of our artists to be deposited in this Gallery will be liberally paid for out of the fund, which, I suppose, will be in- creasing in the hands of the Trustees ; but because they will be certain of their con- tinuing in that Royal and National Esta- blishment, where they will have an op- portunity of transmitting their names to 91 posterity. By such policy, in the Vatican, and other palaces of Italy, the artist for- merly strove with a noble emulation, and produced those chef d’ oeuvres which com- mand our admiration, and to obtain which the French have lately waded through so much blood, and have not been sparing of their own. In this second Gallery will also be de- posited the patient labours of the Minia- ture Painter, of the Medalist and Drafts- man, as well as the works of the eminent Female Artist ; so that beauty and domes- tic virtue will also contribute to the fame of an institution, sacred to valour, talents, patriotism, and loyalty. f The third Gallery shall contain Antiques, and first-rate Pictures of the old Masters, 92 The Trustees will, perhaps, now and then, when opportunity offers, buy a ca- pital picture, but it never entered my mind to fill this by purchases out of the fund : I have carried my expectations fur- ther. Notwithstanding Great Britain, as I before observed, has not what in other countries is termed a Royal Collection ; she is, nevertheless, possessed of more ca- pital pictures than any other in Europe, where the Sovereign, the Princes of the Blood, and a few Courtiers, only can boast of having a collection. Property being more equally divided in Great Britain, most of our nobility and gentry are possessed of a collection ; so that, be- sides the quantity of noble private cabinets we see in the metropolis, an immense 93 number of pictures are spread in different country houses : and as, since the French Revolution, and the troubles in Flanders, Holland, Germany, and Italy, the im- portation of pictures from thence into this country has been greater than ever, our collections are daily increasing' both in number and refinement. For, as the best wines are imported here on account of the heavy duty, so are the best pictures : since the importer pays equally a guinea per foot on the good and the bad, his profits on the latter would not be equivalent to the customs. But, although so many pictures have of late been poured into Great Britain, their quantity, instead of lessening, has in- creased their value. An abundance of the necessaries of life, which must be im- 94 mediately consumed, render them cheap ; but the longer pictures of esteemed mas- ters are kept, the more valuable they be- come. Accidents in cleaning, and the in- juries of time, daily decrease their number; those, therefore, that are in careful hands must daily increase in their value : and a period will arrive, when many of those pictures which the French Revolution has caused to be brought here, will return to the Continent, where they will be sold for double or triple the price they now cost. The great number of pictures in a coun- ty? by extending taste, increases the num- ber of purchasers ; for, by acquiring the knowledge of pictures, men are able to judge of their pecuniary value by their merit ; and as soon as they are connoisseurs, they become collectors, some out of love 95 for the art, many out of vanity, and many more out of speculation. The abundance of specie in a country does not lessen its value, because it is uni- versally understood, that the usual quan- tity only is in circulation, and that the abundance we enjoy, occasions a scarcity of it in others. So it is with those first- rate pictures of the old masters : if they are no longer so scarce in Great Britain, they are more so on the Continent from whence they come. But it is in this instance alone I can compare pictures to gold; for, however precious that metal is, the superiority of fine pictures over it, is beyond compari- son. The possessor of gold shares it in common with thousands; but, an origi- 9<5 rad picture cannot be in two places, its proprietor may boast its exclusive enjoy- ment. Rich as Great Britain at present is, in fine statues, antiques, and pictures, I am so sanguine as to expect, that when the third Gallery shall be erected, the gifts and legacies of individuals will not be wanting to fill it gradually. A connois- seur, w ho is a true lover of the art, dreads nothing more than the dissolution of his cabinet after his decease : it is natural enough to carry, even beyond life, our at- tachment to such innocent amusements as have contributed to render it agreeable. The connoisseur may, it is true, order in his will, that his collection shall not be sold ; but the testator, who considers such 97 a restriction necessary, must have perceived that his legacy would give his heir no gra- tification : it is like bequeathing a man a house, in which he is determined never to live, and which you bind him down neither to let nor sell. A gentleman some years since, who, I understand, had no near relations, left a collection of considerable value, the sale of which he prohibited by his will, in the most positive and direct terms ; it was notwithstanding, sold ; as the legislature, doubtless for good reasons, annulled the restriction. I mention the circumstance; only to suggest, that had the establishment I now propose existed at that time, the testator would, probably, have enriched it with the gift of his pictures, which were sold for the comparatively paltry sum of if 98 eight or ten thousand pounds, although a great part of them were immediately after re-sold at a very high price to foreigners, who carried them to Paris, where they are now placed in the new Public Gallery of the Louvre , Nor is it less probable that the late Earl of Orford, who collected with great j udg- xnent, would have bequeathed his pictures to his country ; for nothing is more flatter- ing to a collector, than that the objects of his curiosity and amusement should afford pleasure to others. His lordship left them for life to the honpurable Mrs, Damer, whose exquisite taste in the fine Arts he well knew, I must add, that I am myself acquaint- ed with some gentlemen possessed of good 99 pictures, whom I have heard lament the want of a place where they could order their collections to be deposited. But will not those bequests to the third Gallery injure a lawful heir, by depriv* ing him of a property he might otherwise inherit ? God forbid that 1 should ever suggest an idea, tending to the hurt of any one ! although my opinion is immaterial, as the wisdom of the legislature would not permit the inj uring of an individual. We cannot suppose, that to enrich this establishment, a father, a brother, an uncle, or near relation, will become so unatural as to deprive their kin of a pro- perty which they intended for them ; but many people have none but distant rela- tions, whom they frequently regard but US 100 little, and are as little regarded by ; exclu- sively of which I cannot see what injury an heir can receive, by being deprived of an object that would give him no gratification, and which himself and his descendants would be bound not to part with. 'Tis also proper I should observe, that, although a whole collection may sometimes be bequeathed to this gallery, it is proba- ble that many lovers of the fine Arts will limit their gifts to two or three favourite pictures, which some will deposit there even in their life-time, so that in a few years, perhaps, this establishment will add a new degree of splendour to his Majesty's reign, and become beneficial to society. All pictures, however, that may be bequeathed or sent to this establishment, shall not be indiscriminately admitted, as 101 every means and precaution must be used to elevate its reputation : should a collec- tion, therefore, be bequeathed to Monta- gue House, the Trustees, and the Com- mittee appointed by the Royal Academy, should meet, in order to select such pictures, statues, &c. as shall be worthy a place, and under them the donor's name should be written. The remainder of his collection should be sold, towards increas- ing the fund of the establishment, or to be returned to his family, as the testator should direct. Before I conclude, I must observe, that I am far from thinking the plan perfect in its present state ; I submit it to the Trustees of the British Museum, in the best state it has occured to me, and should they improve it, so far as to carry it into H 3 102 execution, I shall, in some measure, hflvc gratified my sincere attachment to his Majesty and the country, as well as my friendship for several British artists, who, if the plan takes place, will receive encou- ragement, not only from the Trustees, but from the commonalty at large ; for as the different counties generally follow the ex- ample of the metropolis, it is probable they will adorn their town-halls with the portraits of their favourite Representatives, Mayors, Sheriffs, Aldermen, and others, who have either honoured or benefited them. The connoisseur will equally be gratifi- ed by finding in Montague House a resource both in the modern and old productions, that are the objects of his research. Several Gentlemen of respectability have al most no 103 other amusement; though fortune, per- haps, may not afford them the means of forming a cabinet, there thejr will be am- ply indemnified ; for such is the peculiar advantage of the Fine Arts, that their pro- ductions, when properly taken care of, without losing any of their qualities, give daily pleasure to thousands, and will afford the same to future generations. The following are, in my opinion, the objections which may be made to the plan : — That as part of the British Museum consists of small articles, which must be minutely inspected, they can be seen only by a select company at a time, and not by a crowd of people, as is usual in public exhibitions; it was in consideration of h4 104 that circumstance that I proposed a tem* porary room for the portraits, till there should be a sufficient fund to erect the first Gallery, as then the new establishment /nay become perfectly distinct from the 9ld one : nothing can be more easy than to arrange the articles I have just mentioned, in a private room, where small parties only, as usual, may be admitted at a time. The other objection is, levying money at the door of Montague House , to this I have to quote the example of the Academy, a Royal Institution, whose exhibition brings yearly a large sum in the course of five weeks ; we, surely, may expect to raise a superior one during eight months, from the Royal and National Establish* ment I propose, which will be so interest- 103 irig to the nation at large, arid patronized by the legislature ; but should it bring only a similar sum, it would, in the course of four or five years, be in a state of forwardness. Let those who disapprove of the entrance money, consider the trivialness of that ob* jection to a plan, which is to procure gra* dually an establishment of the utmost grandeur, utility, and value. Let them reflect that Italy exists no more, and that Great Britain, which may so just- ly aspire to the honour of indemnifying Europe for so great loss, would, by such policy, acquire the highest degree of splen- dour ; that already possessed of many chef d } oeuvres of sculpture, and such .master-pieces of art, as the Banquetting 106 House, St. Paul's, Blenheim, Greenwich Hospital, Somerset House, the Bank, and other public buildings, the want of Public Galleries of Pictures is the more sensibly felt. The plan I have offered is simple and easy, and although still capable of improve- ment, is, in its present state, neither bur- thensome to government or to individuals, is far from being injurious to commerce, or a clog to the operations of the war ; and without a possibility of its being detri- mental, it offers a probability of ad-* vantages, far more than equivalent to the objection against entrance-money. After the most mature consideration, 1 have not found any other means of accom- plishing it. I could not think of an appli- 107 cation to the Legislature for the necessary sum, as I know the State money is applied to the support of the State ; and 1 laid aside the idea of a subscription, for, al- though the fortune of every individual is at his own disposal, no subscription should be raised but for public exigencies, or the re- lief of the poor* In fact, when we induce a friend to subscribe a sum for an object of amusement, we deter him from subscribing it for a necessary one. Nor can I flatter myself, although the plan may meet with the approbation of many, that it would be supported by a subscription adequate to the expence of carrying it into execution. Last year, when every class of men were voluntarily arming themselves on the mere report of an invasion, multitudes subscribed to the 108 voluntary contribution ; but it was in de-» fence of their King and country, therefore, to support their nearest interests; and however dear the Fine Arts may be to Britons, I cannot expect they are as dear to them as their Constitution. FRENCH verses WRITTEN BY THE LATE NOEL DESENFANS,Esq, LA RELIGION. Les mains pleines de fleurs, et le front ceint d’ olive, Elle donne la paix aussitot quelle arrive. Le pauvre et l’opulent sont egaux a ses yeux. Pour quiconque l’implore elle descend des lieux. Son bras vient soutenir les rois dans les allarmes ; Sa main du malheureux vient essuyer leslarmes. Et par son ministere elle peut en tout lieu Gerer un sainte commerce entre l’homme et son Dieu j Mais 1’afflige surtout trouve en elle une amie Qui partage avec lui les peines de la vie. Q.uand parmi vingt bourreaux 1’ infortune Louis De son auguste sang rassassia Paris, 112 Elle alia (tout en pleurs de Foutrage et du crime) Sur l’echafau rebel consoler la victime. (Pest elle qui toujours console Fopprime, L’innocent dans les fers de douleur abime ; Les enfans asservis d la maratre austere, Le fils desherite par un injuste pere. Le noble fugitif et l’errant emigre Qu’un trop funeste sort persecute a son gre ! Oui, oui, dans le malMeur, au plus fort de Forage, La Religion seule inspire du courage. Quand Fespoir est eteint, Phomme reste abbatu, Elle lui rend Fespoir quand il a tout perdu. C'est elle qui du vice eloigne la jeunesse, . Qui garde l’age mur, et soutient la vieillesse. Aux champs comme a la ville, au desert, a la cour, Partout ou nous voulons elle fait son sejour. Plus prompte que l’eclair cette rierge fidelle Se rend avec ferveur a la voix qui I’appelle. Elle quitte le ciel pour aller a la fois Frier sous Fhumble chaume et sous le dais des rois } Pour aller rendre au jour la mere inconsolable Prete a joindre au tombeau Fenfant le plus aimable. Pour aller secourir l’infirme et Findigent, Le coupable en remords, et le juste expirant ; 113 Le monarque vain$u, sa famille en otage ; Le marin aux abois sur le bord du naufrage j Le ministre souffVant dans un indigne exil; Le voyageur sans guide au milieu du peril; D’un tiran soup?onneux la tendre et chaste epouse, (Quand le monstre se livre a sa fureur jalouse) : Elle secourt aussi la veuve au desespoir; Le heros qu'un brigand soumet dson pouvoir; La trop credule amante ala mercfd’un taltre, L , esclave languissant sous les rigueurs d’un maitre j Le pere dependant d’un fils superbe et vain, Et le frere accable par un frere inhumain. Auxfoibles qu’on outrage, aux grands qu’on calomnie, A la jeune beaute que denirge l’envie, Au timide orphelin que depouille un tuteur, Elle apprend a souffrir sans plainte et sans aigreur : Enfin, sur tous nos maux comme une tendre mdre Elle verse en secret, un beaume salutaire. Viens done, filleduCiel; habitez parmi nous ; Viens [. . . .aux pieds des autels je t’ attends a genous. I 114 X MONSIEUR LE PRINCE DE MASS IRAN* Pour avoir massacre d’innombrables mortels. On mit au rangdes Dieux Alexandre et Achille; LL~ On sera Masseran, qui par des soins fidelles, En sauve l’autre jour trois ou quatre cens mille. A MADAME LA PR1NCESSE DE MASSERAN. Je dormais ; je songeois que le mailre des Dieux Amenoit ici bas Ies Graces a nos jeux. Del’exc^s du plaisir mon esprit prend lessor : Je m’eveille ; vous vois; et crois dormir encore. A MONSIEUR LE MARQUIS DE CR£VE-C(EUR. +* - Les Dieux dementent le nom que le sortt’a donne ; Car ils ont sur ton front imprime la bonte. Mais si tu tiens de lui, c’est qu’un jour ta valeur Aux rivaux de ton roi pretend crever le coeur. * Prince Massaran was the Spanish ambassador. He pre- vented a war from taking place between France and this country. 115 1 MONSIEUR LE COMTE DE QUINES. Pour venir honorer nos puerils jeux, Quoi ! quitter encore et Cythere et les Dieux ! Vous, qu’en conseil des Dieux tous les jours on appell* Et pours qui tous les jours, Cythere est en querelle ! I MONSIEUR LE COMTE DE JULIAC. Tes exploits de Louis Uacquirent la faveur, Louis marqua ton sein du sceau de la valeur. X MADAME LA COMTESSE DE GROVEN STIEN.* c. <~ Quoi ? Parmi des^rffrrds, dans des marais steriles, Les Ris et les Amours ont ete vous former ? C’etoit assez sans doute. Et pourquoi si facile Ici vous attirer ? Quand on est aussi belle. On fait bientot tourner aux Anglais la cervelle. • A Dutch lady of rank. 12 lie A MADEMOISELLE DE GROVENSTIEW, Belle Grovenstien, 0 ! vous que rien n’efFace Prenez garde a P Amour, il vous suit a la trace. MISS KECK. Herodias obtint la tete d J un grand homme Pour avoir 39x1 danser; et Venus une pomme : Si Pon payait ainsi vos pas, et vos atraits, Jersey seroit sans fruits, et le roi sans sujets. MISS VERNON. Douce et belle Vernon, vous avez de Pesprit, Des talens, et de la memoire : Tout le monde le s9ait, tout le monde le dit ; Vous seule n’en voulez rien croire. MISS FANNY JENNINGS. Vous nous embarrassez, jeune et tendre Fanny: Votre sceur est charmante; et vous Petes aussi. Qui choisir de vous deux ? 1/ amour vous ressembloit Et votre soeur ressemble a celle qu'il armoit. 117 A MADAME MORANT, MISS JENNINGS. Les Ris, les Graces, la Jeunesse, Accompagnent partout tes pas. Les Plaisirs te suivent sans cesse : II n’en est point ou tu n’est pas. On peintl’Amour aveugle : et pourquoi pas sa m&re On diroit, en voyant vos yeux, Que la Deesse de Cythere Vous adonneles Venus en vous formant, p r it 1* Amour pour modelle, Votre frere aujourd’hui vous couvre de son aile. A MADAME LA COMTESSE DE MALTZAN. Vous, qui fort jeune encore voulutes £tre femme; Et que femme, cent fois, si Pon doit vous en croire, 13 118 Eutes pour un couvent la plus ardente flarame $ De vos foibles enfans voyez maitre la gloire, Etconvenez enfin que Thy men en detail Vaut mieux que les verrouils d’un saint et froid serrail. 1 MONSIEUR LE COMTE DE MALTZAN. 0! toi que la nature a donne d’un coeurtendre. Verse aujourd’hui les pleurs que la joie fait repandre. 1 MONSIEUR DE MELLO. Toi qui plais dla ville, et qui plais ala cour, Tantot homme d’etat, tantot hnmrae d’amour ! Quoi ! lorsque les Plaisirs disputent tes momens, Tu daignes les donner a des Jeux innocens ? ■ / * . LETTRE us MONSIEUR DESENFANS, i MADAME MONTAGUE, Madame, Vous avez honore notre siecle, d’ avoir pris en main la defense de Shakespeare, la base ec l’aigle du theatre Anglois. Votre zele pour la verite, cet auguste caractere cTune belle ame ; un discernement exquis et votre plume energique, en lui rendant la justice la plus frappante, vous ont fait un nom parmi les gens d6 lettres, et une reputation qu’un savoir distingue et la reconnoissance rendront recommandable dans tous les temps. Mais, Madame, ne soutintes-vous la cause honorable de ce genie superieur, que pour venger un compatriote ? non : c’etoit pour venger le merite, ce compa- triote commun aux savans, et qui toujours cher aux gens de bien, trouve son pays par toute la terre, dans le cercle etroit des vrais sages. Ce sentiment qui vous eleve au-dessus des prejuges nationaux, fait aujourd’hui ma confiance en vous, et m’est un gage que vous ne blamerez point en moi, le desir brulant d’effacer une tache qu J un Anglois vient de faire a la gloire d’un de nos ecri- vains aussi respectable par ses rares vertus, 123 que celebre par sa profonde erudition. Oui, Madame, vous avez justifie avec trop de feu, votre immortel Shakespeare, pour desapprouver un tribut si legitime a la memoire adoree de notre immortel Fenelon ; si l’un est Y amour et l’orgueil de votre nation, 1’ autre est le flambeau de nos Roiset l’honneurde la notre. On connoit assez quel est le destin or- dinaire du grand homme ; le rebut et Tabandon ne sont pas toujours la seule moisson de ses veilles et de ses lumieres. Trop sou vent pour prix de sa sagesse, il m est en bute aux traits aigus du mechant ; et ceux qui ne devroient lever lesyeux sur lui qu’ avec un saint respect, sont les pre- miers a cabaler contre lui et a ourdir sa ruine. Cet essaim venimeux acharne a sa perte, se souleve et repand a grands flots, la puissante calomnie et la dang^reuse prevention. Le vil envieux, le fourbe, 1'etourdi, F ignorant, le savant meme, le persecutent sans relache, et font de lui un sujet eternel de satire et de mepris. Voila, Madame, quel est le lot trop commun de ces homines eminens que le ciel nous donne dans sa bonte, et dont il est avare pour punir notre ingratitude, en nous laissant replonger dans les tenebres epaisses du vice et de Fignorance, que dissipoient leurs lumieres et leurs vertus. H61as! nous crions au merite, et sem- blons voler audevant de lui ; mais c’est a contre-cceur que la plupart lui rendent hommage ; et a l’instant qu’on l’exalte, a l’instant meme qu’on lui bnule un peu d’encens, on brule de l’abbaisser. Ainsi I 25 tel tend les bras et offre un asile au phi* losophe, qui voudroit Y avoir etouffe au berceau ; ou* tel qui pour se donner un relief, le protege aujourd’hui, s’elancera demain contre lui s’il est hors de mode ; car un grand horame a sa vogue pour un peu de temps, comme un bete curieuse qu’on arnene d'une contree lointaine ; le premier jour c’est un elephant, c’est un Rhinoceros pour qui il faut fendre la presse ; et le troisieme, degenere en fourmi, il n’est plus que l’oubli, ou la fable et la critique de tous ces milliers de curieux qu’emporte le tourbillon de frivoles nouveautes. L’aimons-nous done, Madame, ce merite tant vante ? Oui nous l’aimons, mais pres- que toujours nous ne l’aimons qu’en nous. Notre premier mobile, ce sentiment souve* rain d’amour propre qui tient les renes de 126 notre coeur, en le rendant importun a la basse jalousie, souvent nous le fait hair dansles autres ; et celui du poele dont vous epousates le parti, etoit trop eclatantpour que la satire ne se dechainat pas contre lu i. Mais Mr. de Voltaire en attfquant Shake- speare, n’a attaque en lui que 1’homme de lettres, et a respecte l’honnete homme ; ici c’est l’honnete homme qu’on attaque et qu’on dechire ; c’est l’honneur, son spa- nage sacre, qu’on lui enleve ; c’est unbien auquel on a des droits au-dela m£me du trepas : un bien inestimable que tons les lauriers des muses ne sauroient compenser. II importe peu sans doute d’avoir su faire des vers, de la bonne ou de la mauvaise prose, quand on descend chez les morts ; mais mort ou vivant, il importe d’avoir une reputation sans tache. 127 J’avois lu les lettres de Milord Chester- field, et com me elles etoient annoncees pour un plan d’education, j’avois passe legerement sur tout ce qui ne m’y parut point analogue. Je les repris il y a quel- ques jours, pour lire celles que j’avois d’abord omises ; mais quel fut mon etonne- ment, quand parvenu a la deux-cens soixante-unieme, je vis Milord souiller im- pito yablement la memoire du sage Fene- lon : et d’apres une lettre qu’il avoit trouvee dans le recueil de la Marquise de Maintenon, le charger avec animosite, d’ avoir prostitue cette dame a Louis XIV ! Jesavois que l’illustre auteur de Tele- maque avoit eu des ennemis ; mais jesavois aussi que ces memes ennemis en combat- tant ses erreurs, s’il en eut, avoient ete forces de respecter ses mceurs ; et je n’ima- ginai pas comment une infamie aussi noire, et trainee au sein de la cour, auroit tot ou tard, echapper a la malignite de ses persecuteurs, tous courtisans, gens aux yeux de linx. Dailleurs etoit-il pro- bable que celui qui a su rendre la vertu si aimable, l’ait aimee si peu que de l’avilir si fort ? Et faudra-t-il croire qu’un homme estime de tout son siecle, estime meme de ses envieux, n’ait ete qu’un monstre a mettre en pieces, parcequ’il aura plfi a Milord Chesterfield de donner de 1* equivo- que a quelques mots ? non sans doute : et de quelque poids que dut m’etre son auto- rite, je ne pus me resoudre a donner tete baissee, dans son opinion ; en outre deja sa legerete a juger d’atttrui, m’avoit appris a le regarder plulot comme un de ces moucherons qui piquent et qui bourdon- nent, que comme un de ces sages qui tour- U9 nent et retournent la langue avant de de- cider. Mais bientot je fus eclairci par la lettre meme qu’il avoit cru un sujet suffisantpour se repandre en injures atroces; et je vis que Milord qui peut-etre savoit sur le bout du doigt, les oeuvres de Bolinbrooke, entendoit tres-peu la genese ; et que si dans un bal il pouvoit juger en maltre, d’une reverence ou d’un entre-chat, il fal- loit dans ce cas-ci, des lumieres plus in- faillibles que les siennes. J*ai gemi neanmoins qu’une fletrissure aussi deshonorante pour le souvenir du vertueux Fenelon, ait et6 empreinte par la main tem^raire d’un homme que de vastes connoissances ont distingue, et dont les principes solides et brillans de politique K 130 et de politesse, feront peut-etre passer l’ouvrage a la posterite, et avec lui la ca- lomnie la plus insigne ; or vous saves com- bien une plume eloquente accelere ses funestes progres, et combien vite elle ga- gne un avocat secret dans les cceurs ou elle perce ! Ah ! qu’il est triste, Madame, qu'il est humiliant pour l’humanite, que des hom- mes dangereux aient des talens qui mettent Topinion dans leurs mains, et les font pour ainsi dire, arbitres de la gloire, en les rendant les oracles d’un peuple credule qu’ils abbreuvent de mensongeetd’erreurs. Trop souvent gonfles de fiel et d’orgueil, ces professeursd’imposturene caracterisent que d’apres leurs passions ; ou vuides de jugement, ils defigurent, blament et pre- conisent a tort et a travers ; et leur bouche profane souffle alors dan tous les esprits,, le 151 prejuge et la confusion. De-la tant d’his- toriens suspects ; de-la tant de faquins et de pedans ont passe pour des Socrates ; de-la le lache couronne de chene, et tant de brigands le front ceint d'un laurier qu'avoit cueilli la valeur, nous ont ete donnes pour des heros. Cette reflexion est dure, et pourroit etre decourageante pour la vertu ; mais quand le caprice, l’iniquite, Tignorance font avorter les soins qu’elle donne a sa gloire, Dieu qui de son doigt immortel, la grave dans une tablette aussi durable que la notre est futile, lui montre les homines, leurs vaines annales, leurs satires, leurs eloges, leurs ecrits pompeux et leurs traditions s’engloutissans dans le goufFre enorme de l’eternite. Mais pardon, Madame, je reviens a mon sujet. k2 Je fas done convaingu a l’instant qu’ii yavoit autantde ridicule quede malice ou d’ignorance dans le tour que Milord Ches- terfield s’etoit efforce de donner a la lettre de Mr. de Fenelon, qui je suppose, ne vous est pas etrangere ; mais il est a pro- pos que je vous la remette sous les yeux. C’est la clxxxv des memoires de Madame Maintenon a qui elle est adressee. - s ?« * . ri- * ■ . * » LETTRE RROM MONSIEUR THOMAS, TO MONSIEUR ©ESENFANS. Paris, March 1, 1777. Sir, I have just read the pamphlet in which you have undertaken the defence of Mon- sieur de Fenelon’s memory, against the imputations which Lord Chesterfield has cast upon it. I am entirely of your opinion, and think that we ought not even to suspect so 172 pure a virtue of so base a crime. Who can doubt, in reading his letter to Madame de Maintenon, that she was not already mar- ried ? We need but recur to his own words to receive conviction. “It is true, Madam, (says he) that yowr situation is enigmatical , but it is God who has ordained it should be so. You neither desired, nor chose it, nor even conceived an idea of it, yourself . It is the work of God. He hides from you his secrets, and hides them from the world also , which would he much amazed if you should reveal to it what you have imparted in confidence to me. It is God’s mystery, who has been pleased to exalt you for the sanctification of those who were born in the highest state of eleva- tion. You Jill the place of queens ” 173 I appeal now to any impartial person, if any thing can be more clearly implied in this passage, than the marriage of Madame de Maintenon with Lewis XIV ? And that half-veiled grandeur which placed a private individual so near the throne, gave her the greatest influence without the least autho- rity, the utmost consideration without any real title, and rendered her an object both of respect and duty, by setting her above persons of the first rank at court, was cer- tainly, as Fenelon says, a true enigme. Is it possible to apply this term to the state of a mistress ? Is it suitable to the condition of those women, who, generally more ambitious than tender, hope only from such high intrigues to emblazon their dishonour by an accumulation of fortune ? We know that it is not in their power, and f t 174 seldom even in their will, to conceal their weaknesses. We know that their conduct is observed by the eyes of a court made quick-sighted by its own vices, and often by the still more prying attention of many rivals, who envy in secret their shame and their success. Curiosity, interest, and public malignity, would eagerly unite in tearing off the veil with which they might in vain endeavour to cover themselves. No : there never w as, nor ever will be, any thing enigmatical in such kind of con- nections. Granting that the words of Fenelon’s letter were not quite so clear as they are, w ho could suppose that the most respect- able of men would have descended to act between a king and his mistress ex parte } which even in a court would debase the most contemptible characters, and dis- honour even those who long have seemed to renounce all honour ? It is by the constant tenor of his life, by the consistency of his sentiments and con- duct, that we should presume to judge of any man ; and yet it is said, that the author of Telemachus, one who lived in intimate friendship with the most virtuous of his cotemporaries ; he who was the wise in- structor of the Duke of Burgundy ; he who dared to condemn the vices of Lewis XIV. and the misconduct of his government , he who has spoken of religion, not with that enthusiastic eloquence which sometime arises from an over-heated imagination, and may accord but too well in secret with our vices, but with that purity and tenderness of sentiment with which we speak of the 176 object of our love and source of our felicity and it is said, that such a man had prac- tised the infamous trade of a corrupter ! had prostitutedreligion to the most shame- less purposes, and scanctified crimes to prevent their being attended with remorse ! How long [shall there be found, not men, but monsters, who deny the existence of virtue upon earth ! Who henceforth may believe themselves beyond the reach of calumny, when the sacred memory of Fe- nelon has not escaped its venom ! It was not thus that his cotemporaries thought of this virtuous man, when, in his exile at Cambray, he received the ho- mage even of sovereigns ; when, in the w ar about tli e succession, our enemies serv- ed him for an escort on his lands ; and that Marlborough and Prince Eugene, 177 in ravaging France, added to their glory by respecting in him such distinguished virtue as ought not to belong peculiarly to one nation, but to be considered as the general properly of Europe. The honours he received while living, amply compensate for the outrage which has been committed against his ashes. However, Sir, France owes you its grati- tude for having generously stept forth in defence of his memory. The great men of every country are its highest honour, and the dearest property of all nations. An involuntary instinct compels us to res- pect them, even in an age where the su- periority of their virtues and talents seem to render them our accusers, from a com- parison with the vices and weaknesses of the present asra. The admiration with N 178 which we are inspired by the characters of celebrated men, seems to raise us nearer their standard. Never, Sir, has the memory of Fenelon been more revered than it is at this day in France : his name amongst us is that of Virtue, and we pronounce it not but with a respect mingled with tender- ness. The French Academy, some years since, decreed him the honours of a public eu- logium ; and a person, eminent for his virtues, now presiding over the administra- tion of the arts,* has by order of govern- ment, directed a statue to be executed for this illustrious man, with those of Sully, Descartes, the Chancellor de FHopital, and the president Montesquieu. Those of Tu- * The count Dangevillers. 179 renneand Paschal are to be joined to this immortal group, and in a short time they will be exhibited to the public view. We dare recall amongst us some of the Athenian institutions ; and France has also its Pericles, who employs the power of the arts over a sensible people, to nourish an enthusiasm for virtue, and to awaken and encourage the sentiments of national greatness. France, or rather all Europe, honours Feneton ; Lord Chesterfield dares outrage him ! If Felenon was living, he would probably imitate the conduct of Scipio, who, when he was accused of a crime be- fore an assembly of the people, made only this answsr, “ I have fought for you, and N 2 saved my country; let us go and return thanks to the gods” And all the people followed Scipioto the Capitol. I have the honour to be most perfectly, Yours, &c. LINES NOEL DESENFANS, Esa. ON HIS DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE OF PICTURES, PUB,* CHS AED FOR THE LATE KING OF POLAND. BY JOHN TAYLOR, ESQ . Though tasteless Time, with slow but certain rage, Painting’s sublimest treasures will destroy, Yet those preserv’d in thy descriptive page. Uninjur’d, shall Posterity enjoy. So well thy pen each Master’s style displays ; Such force and beauty in the work we find, That Fancy, charm’d, o’er ev’ry picture strays. And feels the rich collection in the mind. Nor bound to mere Description’s boldest reach— Thy labours to a nobler fame aspire ; Knowledge so moraliz’d shall Critics teach To judge with candour, and with truth admire. Hence future Artists shall those labours prize, Which rescue Genius from its ruthless foej And hope another Desknfans will rise. In Time’s despite, to bid their colours glow.