ARTES LIBRARY 1817 SCIENTIA } VERITAS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN PLURIBUS UNUM TUEBOR SI QUERIS PENINSULAM-AMŒNAM` CIRCUMSPICE MEMOIRS + } OF THE YEAR Two Thousand Five Hundred. LE TEMS PRESENT EST GROS DE L'AVENIR. Tranflated from the French, By W. HOOPER, Leibnitz. M. A. PHILADELPHIA, PRINTED BY THOMAS DOBSON, AT THE STONE-HOUSE, N° 41, SOUTH SECOND-STREET. M:DCC.XCV. * ľ ADVERTISEMENT. THE title of this work in the original is The Year Two Thousand Four Hundred and Forty; but as there appears no reaſon for fixing 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 tranflator. Though the ſcene of this narrative lies in Paris, yet the reflections in general may be applied, by changing the names of places and perfons, to almoſt all the capital cities of Europe. Who the author of this work is, we will not pretend to determine; perhaps the reader will be fatisfied with finding that he is a man of ſenſe, of taſte, and learning, of a lively imagination, a ftrong fpirit of liberty, and, what is worth them all, a warm benevolence of heart. A 2 CONTENTS. Introduction CHAP. I. Reflections on Paris, by an old Eng- lifbman II. I am ſeven hundred and fixty years old III. I purchaſe a fuit of ready-made clothes IV. The Porters of Paris V. The Carriages VI. The embroidered Hat VII. The Bridge re-baptifed PAGE I 3 II 14 17 20 23 26 VIII. The new Paris 28 IX. The Petitions 4I X. The Man with a Maſk 44 XI. The New Testaments 47 XII. The College of Quatre Nations 50 XIII. Where is the Sorbonne ? 58 XIV. The Hofpital for Inoculation 63 A 2. CHAP.. vi CONTENTS. CHAP. XV. Theology and Jurisprudence XVI. Execution of a Criminal XVII. Not ſo far off as we thought XVIII. The Minifters of Peace XIX. The Temple XX. The Prelate XXI. The Communion of the two In- finities Page. 65 72 86 92 97 III 113 XXII. A remarkable Monument 124 XXIII. The Bread, the Wine, &c. 129 XXIV. The Prince a Publican 140 XXV. The Theatre 144 XXVI. The Lamps 153 XXVII. A Funeral 157 An Eclipfe of the Moon. 161 XXVIII. The King's Library 167 XXIX. The Men of Letters 192 XXX. The Academy of Science 199 XXXI. The King's Cabinet 214 XXXII. The Academy of Painting 235 XXXIII. Emblematical Paintings 241 XXXIV. Sculpture and Engraving 247 XXXV. The Hall of Audience XXXVI. The Form of Government XXXVII. The Heir to the Throne 252 256 272 XXXVIII. The Women, I 284 CHAP. CONTENTS. vii CHAP. Page. XXXIX. The Taxes 298 XL. On Commerce 311 XLI. The Evening 317 XLII. The Gazettes 328 XLIII. Funeral Oration of a Peaſant 355 XLIV. Verſailles 359 } EPISTLE DEDICATORY To the Year 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 shalt rife from out the bofom of eternity, thy fun fhall enlighten them who will tread upon my afhes, and upon thoſe of thirty generations, fucceffively cut off, and plunged in the profound abyfs of death. The kings that now fit upon the throne fhall be no more; their pofterity thall be no more. Then fhalt thou judge the departed monarch, and the writer who lived in fubjection to his power. The names of the friends, the defenders of humanity, fhall live and be honoured, their glory fhall be pure and radiant; but that vile herd of kings, who have been, in every fenfe, the tormentors of mankind, ſtill more deeply plunged X EPISTLE DEDICATORY. plunged in oblivion than in the regions of death, can only eſcape from infamy by the favour of inanity. The thought furvives the man, and forms his moſt glorious poffeffion; the thought rifes from his tomb, affumcs an immutable body, becomes immortal. While the thunders of defpotifm fall and vaniſh, the pen of the writer, bounding over the interval of time, abfolves or puniſhes the mafters of the univerfe. I I have exerciſed that authority which nature gave me; I have cited before my folitary reafon the laws, the cuſtoms, and abufes of the country. in which I have lived obfcure' and unknown. have felt that virtuous hatred which is due to oppreſſion from a being of humanity; I have de- tefted, purfued with infamy to the utmoſt of my power, oppofed all tyranny. But, alas! Auguft and Venerable Year, perhaps to little purpoſe, when contemplating thee, have I animated, ex- alted my ideas; they may appear in thy eyes the mere conceptions of fervitude. Forgive me; the genius of my age furrounds and oppreffes me. Stupidity now reigns; the tranquility of my coun- try reſembles that of the grave. I fee nought around me but coloured carcafes, who move and talk, but in whom the active principle of life has never produced the leaft emotion. Even now, the EPISTLE DEDICATORY. xi · the voice of philofophy, wearied and dejected, cries in the midſt of mankind as in the centre of a boundleſs defert. Oh! could I but divide the term of my exift- ence, with what pleaſure would I inſtantly de- ſcend to the grave! with what joy fhould I part from the gloomy, wretched aſpects of my co-tem- poraries, to awake in the midſt of thoſe fair days that thou shalt bring forth; that blifsful period, when man ſhall have regained his courage, his liberty, his independence, and his virtue! How happy, could I but behold thee otherwiſe than in a dream! Haſte! thou age fo defired, thou object of my earneſt wishes! Come, and pour down happineſs upon the earth! But what do I fay? Delivered from the illufions of a pleafing dream, I fear, alas! I fear, that thy fun is more like to caft a gloomy light on a formleſs mafs of afhes, and of ruins. MEMOIRS MEMOIRS OF THE Year Two Thousand Five Hundred. INTRODUCTION. THAT all ſhould be well is the wifh of the philofopher. By that term, which doubtlefs has been abuſed, I mean that fagacious and virtuous being, who defires the general happineſs, in confe- quence of thofe determinate ideas of order and har- mony that he entertains. Evil is difgufting to the fight of the wife man; he therefore declaims againſt it; he is accuſed 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 ftriking perfection, which might and ought to refult from the conduct of a rational being. In effect, what ſhould prevent us from hoping, that, after running round the wide-extended circle of their follies, guided by their paſſions, men, jaded and diſguſted, may not return to the pure lights of reaſon Why may not the human race reſemble an indivi- dual? Touchy, hafty, thoughtless, in youth; gentle, patient, B 2 INTRODUCTION. patient, prudent, in age *. The man who argues thus impoſes on himſelf the duty of being juft. But do we know what is perfection? Can it apper- tain to a weak and limited being? Is it not that great fecret hid from us by the prefent life? Muſt we not put off mortality ere we can comprehend that ſub- lime enigma? In the mean time, let us endeavour to render this life tolerable; or, if that be too much, let us at leaſt dream that it is fo. For me, concentered with Plato, I dream like him. O my dear countrymen, whom I have fo often heard groan under that load of abuſes, of which we are wearied with complaining, when will our dreams be realifed? Let us then fleep on; for in that muſt we place our felicity. Was this world created merely for that ſmall number of men who now inhabit the furface of the earth? What are all the beings that ever exifted, in compariſon of thoſe that God can create ? Other generations will behold the fame fun, occupy the place we now poffefs, and puſh us fo far back into antiquity, that there fhall not remain of us either footsteps or remembrance. CHAP [ 3 ] CHAP. I. REFLECTIONS ON PARIS BY AN OLD ENGLISII- MAN. THOU troublefome friend, why didst thou wake me? Ah! what injury haft thou done me! Thou haft fnatched me from a dream, whoſe ſweet illufions were to me more defireable than the impor- tunate light of truth. How pleafing was the deceit ! Would that I were plunged in it for the remainder of my days! But, alas! I am again furrounded by that frightful chaos from which I thought myfelf deliver- ed. Sit down, and liften to me, while my mind is yet filled with the objects by which it was but now enrapt. Late last night, I converfed with that old English- man, whofe foul is fo free. You know that I love the man truly English; we no where find better friends; among no other people do we meet with men of a character ſo ſtedfaſt and ſo generous; that fpirit of liberty with which they are animated gives them a degree of force and conftancy rarely to be met with among other nations. Your nation, he faid, is filled with abufes ftrange as multifarious; they are neither to be numbered or conceived; the mind is there loft. Nothing is to B 2 me 4 REFLECTIONS ON PARIS. me ſo ſurpriſing as that repofe, that apparent calm, which broods over the horrid jars of fo many inteftine troubles. Your capital is an incredible compound*; the hideous monſter is the receptacle of extreme opulence and exceffive mifery; their conteft is eter- nal. How amazing that this devouring body, which is confuming in every part, can fubfift in its horrid inequality t. In your kingdom, all things are made fubfer- vient to the capital; cities, nay, whole provinces, are facrificed to it. Alas! what is it but a diamond in the midst of a dunghill! what an inconceivable jumble of fenfe and ftupidity, of genius and fully, of grandeur and bafenefs! I left England with preci- pitation; I flew with hopes of arriving at that bright centre, where men, by uniting their mutual talents, had *The whole kingdom is in Paris. France reſembles a ricketty child, whofe juices feem only to encreaſe and nou- riſh 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. ; †The manner in which it exifts is ftill more aſtoniſh- ing: It is not uncommon to fee a man, who cannot live. upon one hundred thoufand livres (¶) a year, borrow ino- ney of another, who lives at his eaſe on a hundredth part of the money. (1) The livre is equal to ten-pence halfpenny, confequent- ly the French crown of fix livres is equal to five fhillings and three-pence, and the louis-d'or of twenty four livres equal to our guinea. REFLECTIONS ON PARIS. 5 had eſtabliſhed the throne of all the pleaſures, fur- rounded by eaſe and complacency. But, heavenst how cruelly were my hopes deſtroyed! On this ſpot, where all things abound, I behold wretches periſh- ing for want; in the midſt of fo many fagacious laws, a thouſand crimes are committed; among ſo many regulations of the police, all is diforder; no- thing to be feen but fhackles, embarraffments, and practices contrary to the public good. The throngs of people are every moment in dan- ger of being cruſhed by the innumerable quantity of carriages, in which are borne at their eaſe thoſe who are infinitely leſs valuable than they whom they ſplaſh, and threaten to deſtroy. I tremble when I hear the precipitate tread of horfes in the midft of a crowd of the aged and infirm, of children, and teeming women. In reality, nothing is more infulting to human na- ture than that cruel indifference, with which they regard the dangers that each moment produces*. t Your affairs compel you to frequent a quarter of the town, where there exhales a foetid and mortal vapour thouſands of mankind are forced to breath that poiſoned air †. Your churches afford more oc- * Ye original inhabitants of the earth, could you have thought that a city would ever exift, where they ſhould, without concern, drive over the unfortunate paffengers at fo much per leg and per arm! + The cemetry of the church called the Innocents, ferves twenty-two parifhes; they have interred the dead there B 3 for 6 REFLECTIONS ON PARIS. cafion for fcandal than inſtruction; they are made the high road for paffengers, and fometimes fome- thing worfe; you are not fuffered to feat yourſelf there but by virtue of money; a fhameful mono- poly in a facred place, where all men, when in the prefence of the Supreme Being, fhould furely be re- garded as equals. When you would copy after the Greeks and Ro- mans, you have not even the ability to fupport their manner, which was pure and noble; you disfigure it, you deſtroy it, by a puerile longing after what you call pretty. You have fome dramas that are maſter-pieces; but, if on reading them, I find a de- fire to ſee them reprefented, I no longer know them. in You have three ſmall, dark, and dirty theatres * one you are, at a great expence, magnificently ſtunned while you gapingly admire a heap of ridiculous ma- chinery; in another, you are forced to laugh, when ; you for a thouſand years paſt. A place for this purpoſe ſhould furely have been choſen without the walls; on the contra- ry, it is placed in the centre of the city; and left it ſhould not be fufficiently frequented as it ſhould feem, they have furrounded it with fhops. It is a grave always open, always filling, always empty. Our delicate ladies there walk over the mouldering bones of millions of their fore- fathers to purchaſe pompons and other baubles. * The French and Italian comedies, or theatres, and the opera. The epithets here uſed are applicable enough to the two comedies; but furely the opera rather merits thoſe of grand and elegant. 1. 1 REFLECTIONS ON PARIS. 7 you ſhould weep; nature is never confulted; and be- fides that your tragic actors are beneath all criticiſm, you there find fome impertinent companion, who is alone fufficient to baniſh the moſt perfect illufion; with regard to the third, they are a ſet of buffoons ; who fometimes quaver the drolleries of Momus, and fometimes fhriek an infipid air. I prefer theſe, how- ever, to your dull French comedians, becauſe they are more natural, and confequently more pleaſing, and becauſe they afford the public rather more enter- tainment*. But I must confefs at the fame time, that a man ought to have an uncommon ſhare of leiſure, to amuſe himſelf with the wretched trifles they exhibit. It affects me with an indignant pity, to ſee fuch people as thefe, who are fupported by a fort of con- tribution from each ſpectator, impudently crowd their judges together in a fcanty pit, where, continually on their feet, and preffing against each other, they fuffer a thouſand tortures; and where they are not permit- ted to complain, though on the point of being fuffo- cated+. A people, who even in their entertainments, *There is an effential difference between the French and Italian comedies; the firſt are fully perfuaded that they are perfons of merit, and in confequence are infolent; the fecond are directed entirely by mercenary motives; the one, from ſelf-conceit, ſhew a want of due reſpect for the public; the others ſtrive to pleaſe it from a principle of avarice. + There are no feats in the pit at any of the French thea- tres; and asthofe that are behind are continually endeavour- ing to get forward, and thoſe before endeavour to keep their ftation REFLECTIONS ON PARIS, can endure ſo troubleſome a fervitude, fhow to what degree of flavery they may be reduced. Thus, all thoſe pleaſures boaſted of at a diſtance are, on a near approach, but troubles; and we muft walk over the heads of the multitude, if we would breathe at our eaſe. As I do not find myſelf endowed with that bar- barous courage, adieu; I fhall be gone. You may boaſt of your fine buildings that are falling into ruins ; ſhow with admiration your Louvre, whoſe aſpect does you more diſgrace than honour, eſpecially when fur- rounded by fo many gaudy baubles, which coſt you more to ſupport than it did to erect your public mo- numents. But all this is yet nothing. If I ſhould dwell on the horrible difproportion of fortunes; if I fhould explain the fecret caufes from whence it proceeds: if I were to defcribe your manners, without tender and polite, within haughty and cruel*; if I fhould paint the indigence of the unfortunate, and the im- poffibility of redreſs, while they preferve their pro- bity; ſtation, they are in conſtant agitation, not much unlike the mob at a lord mayor's fhow: to mend the matter, there are fix of the king's guards poſted in the pit, three on each ſide; and if any one offers to cry out, one of the guards, if it be his will and pleaſure, takes him immediately into cuſtody. * If we except the financiers, who are in general cruel and unpolite, the reſt of the rich have but one of thoſe two faults; they either politely fuffer you to die of hunger or they roughly give you ſome relief. REFLECTIONS ON PARIS. 9 bity; if I ſhould enumerate the riches a bad man has acquired, and the degrees of refpect that is ſhown him, in proportion as he becomes more depraved*; -this would take up too much time. Good night. To-morrow will I leave you; I fay, to-morrow; for I can no longer live in a city fo full of mifery, and that has fo many opportunities of preventing it. I am difgufted with Paris as with London. All great cities reſemble each other. Rouffeau has very well faid, "It feems as if the more laws men make "for their happinefs, when united in one body, the "more depraved they become, and the more they (6 augment the fum of their miferies." One would, however, reaſonably imagine the contrary; but too many are intereſted in oppoſing the general good. I will fearch out fome village, where in a pure air, with tranquil pleaſures, I may deplore the lot of the wretched inhabitants of thoſe faftuous prifons they call citiest. It * Formerly, though they did not affift the virtuous man, they, however, eſteemed him. It is now no longer fo. I remember the reply of a princefs to her intendant; lis wages were fix hundred livres, and he complained he was not ſufficiently paid. How then did your predeceſſor ma- nage? faid the princefs; he was but ten years in my ſervice, and retired with an eſtate of twenty thouſand livres a year. Madam, he robbed you, replied the intendant. Very well, fays the princefs, then do you rob me too. + Amidst the torrent of modes, projects, and amuſements, of which one deftroys the other, and none lafts, the minds of the great are loft, 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 purpoſe that I reminded him of the < old proverb, Paris was not built in a day;' that all was now perfection in compariſon of paft ages. Per- haps, a few years hence, I faid, there will be nothing left for you to defire; if they ſhall accomplish, in their full extent, the different projects that have been pro- pofed. Ah! he replied, there is the foible of your nation; projects for ever! And can you regard them? You are a Frenchman, my friend; and with all your good fenfe you have an attachment to the foil. But, be it fo; when all thofe projects are ac- complished, I will come again to ſee you; till then will I find another dwelling-place; I like not to in- habit amidit fo many unhappy and difcontented mor- tals, whofe very fuffering looks pierce my heart*. I know that it would be eafy to remedy the moſt preffing evils; but, believe me, they will never be remedied; the means are too fimple to be regarded. I am convinced that they will avoid them; I am convinced alfo, that they will repeat amongſt you the facred word Humanity, with much affectation, only to avoid performing the duties it impliest. It is a long time fince you erred through ignorance, and therefore you will never reform Adieu. * There is no one eſtabliſhment in France that does not tend to the detriment of the nation. † Accurfed be the writer who flatters the age in which he lives, and helps to deceive it; who lulls it with the hiflory of its ancient heroes, and virtues that are no more; palliates the evils that undermine and devour it; and, like a fubtle mountebank, talks of its florid complexion, while the gan- grene [ 11 ] CHAP. II. I AM SEVEN HUNDRED and SIXTY YEARS OLD. IT was midnight when my old Englifhman left me. I began to be weary; I faſtened my door, and retired to rest. When I had clofed my eye-lids, I dreamed that ages had paſſed ſince I laid down to reſt, and that I was awake *. I rofe, and found a weight oppreſs me to which I was not accuſtomed; my hands trembled, and my feet ſtumbled; when I looked in the glaſs, I could ſcarce recollect my viſage; I went to bed with black hair and a florid 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 nofe; a colour pale and wan was ſpread over all my counte- nance; when I attempted to walk, I was forced to fupport grene is preying upon its members. The writer of fortitude will never avail himſelf of theſe dangerous deceits. He cries, O my countrymen, you by no means refemble your fathers; you are polite and cruel; you have only the ap- pearance of humanity; bafe and faithlefs, you have not even the courage to commit great crimes; yours are all mean and daftardly, like yourſelves. . * When the mind is much affected with any object, it readily returns in fleep. There are aftoniſhing circum- itances attending dreams. This, as will appear by the fe- quel, is not very extravagant. 12 I AM DCCLX. YEARS OLD. fupport myſelf by my cane; I did not find, however, that I had any ill-nature, the too common companion of old age. As I went out, I faw a public place, which to me was unknown; they had juft erected a pyramidal column, which attracted the regard of the curious. I advanced towards it, and read diſtinctly, The year of grace MMD. the characters were engraved on marble, in letters of gold. At first, I imagined that my eyes deceived me, or rather, that it was an error of the artift's; but I had ſcarce made the reflection, when the furpriſe became ſtill greater; for, directing looks towards two or three edicts of the fovereign fixed to the wall, which I have always been curious to read, I faw the fame date, MMD. fairly printed on all of them. Ha! I faid to myſelf, I am then become old indeed, without perceiving it. What! have I ſlept feven hundred and thirty-two years*. my All things were changed; all thofe places that were fo well known to me preſented a different face, and appeared to be recently embellifhed; I loft myfelf amidſt grand and beautiful ſtreets, that were built in ftraight lines; I entered a fpacious fquare, form- ed by the terminations of four ſtreets, where there reigned fuch perfect order, that I found not the leaſt embarraſſment, nor heard any of thofe confufed and whimfical cries that formerly rent my ears; I faw no carriages ready to crufh me; the gouty might have *This work was begun in 1768. 1 AM DCCLX. YEARS OLD. їз have walked there commodiously; the city had an animated afpect, but without trouble or confuſion. I was fo amazed, that I did not at firſt obferve the paffengers ftop and regard me from head to foot with the utmoſt aſtoniſhment. They fhrugged the fhoulder and fmiled, as we ufed to do, when we met a maſk; in fact, 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 faid politely, but with a fixed gravity, “Good old man, to what purpoſe is this diſguife? Do you intend to remind us of the ridiculous cuſtoms of a whimſical age? We have no inclination to imitate them. Lay afide this idle frolick." What mean you? I replied; I am not difguifed; I wear the fame drefs that I wore yefter- day; it is your columns and your edicts that counter- feit. You ſeem to acknowledge another fovereign than Lewis XV. I know not what is your deſign; but I efteem it dangerous; and fo I tell you; mafque- rades of this fort are not be countenanced; men muſt not carry their folly to fuch extent. You are, how- ever, very free impoftors; for you cannot imagine that any thing can convince a man against the evi- dence of his own mind. Whether he thought that I was delirious, or that my great age made me dote, or whatever other ſuf- picion he might have, he asked me in what year I was born. In 1740, I replied." Indeed! why then C you 14 I PURCHASE A SUIT OF " you arc feven hundred and fixty years of age. We fhould be aſtoniſhed at nothing," he faid to the crowd that ſurrounded me; "Enoch and Elias are not yet dead; Mathufalem and fome others have lived nine hundred years; Nicolas Flamel traverfes the earth like a wandering Jew; and perhaps this gentleman has found the immortal elixir, or the philofopher's ftone.' On pronouncing the laft words he fimiled; and every one preffed toward me with a very particular com- placency and refpect. They feemed all eager to in- terrogate me; but difcretion held them mute; they contented themſelves with faying, in a low voice, "A man of the age of Lewis XV. Oh! what a curiofity!" CHAP. III. I PURCHASE A SUIT OF READY-MADE CLOTHES. I BEGAN to be anxious for my ſafety. The man of letters faid to me, "I fee you are con- founded, and therefore willingly offer to be your guide. But let us begin, I entreat you, by entering the first cloth-fhop we fhall come to; for," he frankly added, "I cannot be your companion, if you are not decently dreffed. "You muſt allow, for example, that, in a well- regulated city, where the government forbids all duels, and anſwers for the life of every individual, it NEW CLOTHES. 15 ! it is uſeleſs, not to ſay indecent, to wear a murder- ing weapon by your fide, to put a fword on when you go to pray to God, or to vifit the ladies or your friends. A foldier can do no more in a town that is befieged*. In your age, there were ftill fome remains of the Gothic chivalry; it was a mark of honour to wear at all times an offenfive weapon; and I have read, in an author of your days, that an old man would parade with a fword that he could no longer ufe. "How girding and troubleſome is your drefs; your ſhoulders and arms are impriſoned; your body is preffed together; your breaft is conſtrained, you can ſcarce breathe; and, why, I befecch you, do you expofe your legs and thighs to the inclemency of the feafons? Each age produces new modes; but either I am much deceived, or our dress is both agreeable and falutary. Obferve it." In fact, the manner in which he was dreffed, though new to me, had nothing in it diſguſtful. His hatt had not the dark and gloomy colour, nor the troubleſome corners of our's; there remained * In Paris, every man who is not a fervant, or in trade, wears a fword, if he can find money to purchaſe one, which he may do there for a few fhillings. If I were to write a hiftory of France, I ſhould pay a particular regard to the chapter of hats. This little fubje&t, treated with care, would be curious and intercfting. I would contraſt the Engliſh and French; and ſhow, that C 1 when 16 I PURCHASE A SUIT OF nothing but the cap or body of the hat, which was furrounded by a fort of cape, that rolled up, or was extended, as the feafon required. His hair, neatly combed, formed a knot behind his head, and a flight tinge of powder left the natu- ral colour viſible *. Far diftant from the plaiſtered pyramid of fcented pomatum; or thoſe ſtaring wings, that give a frightful afpect to the wearer; or thofe immoveable buckles, that deftroy the grace of the flowing curls. His neck was not tightly bound with muflin†; but furrounded with a cravat more or lefs warm, according to the ſeaſon. His arms enjoyed their full liberty in fleeves moderately large; and his body, neatly encloſed in a fort of veft, was co- vered with a cloak, in form of a gown, falutary in the cold and rainy feafons. Round his waiſt he wore a long faſh that had a graceful look, and preferved an equal warmth. He had when the former wore a large, the latter wore a ſmall hat, and the reverſe. * There are at prefent three or four hundred methods of dreſſing the hair of a man of faſhion. O, how profound are the arts! Who can pretend to purfue them through all their details! + The neck-pieces that are now worn are of more fer- vice than the fuperficial obferver may imagine. The town air, high living, and other matters, make us look pale. Now, thoſe necks, by driving the blood up into the face, reſtore us to a natural complexion. NEW CLOTHES. * had none of thoſe garters that bind the hams and reſtrain the circulation. He wore a long ſtocking, that reached from the foot to the waift; and an eafy fhoe, in form of a buſkin, incloſed his foot. He carried me into a fhop, where I was to change my drefs: 1 fat down in a chair; but it was not one of thoſe that are hard ſtuffed, and fatigue inſtead of refreſhing; it was a fort of fmall alcove, lined with mat, and turned on a pivot, according to the direction of the body. I could fcarce think that I was in a tradefman's fhop; for it was quite light, and I heard no prating about honour and conſcience. ? CHAP. IV. THE PORTERS OF PARIS" My guide became every moment more fa- miliar; he agreed for the price of my new drefs, which came to a louis-d'or. When I gave it the fhop-keeper, he promiſed to keep it as an antiquity. They paid ready money at every fhop; for thoſe peo- | ple, lovers of a fcrupulous probity, knew not the meaning of the word credit, which, on one fide or * The porters of Paris carry their burdens in a long baf- ket ſtrapped over their fhoulders, and reaches down to the waift; and of theſe there are near as many women as inen. *** C 3 the 18 THE PORTERS OF PARIS. the other ferves as a veil to an induſtrious fraud. The art of contracting debts and not paying them was no longer the fcience of the beau monde * When I came out, the crowd ſtill furrounded me; but there was nothing either jeering or infulting in their behaviour; merely a buzz from every fide; "That's the man who is feven hundred and fixty years old. How unfortunate muſt he have been in the first part of his life †. I was As they * When Charles VII. king of France, was at Bourges, he ordered a pair of boots to be made for him. were trying on, his intendant entered, and faid to the fhoe- ınaker, 'Take away your boots; we cannot pay for them for fome time; his majefty can wear his old ones a month longer." The king commended the intendant; and he de- ferved to have fuch a man in his fervice. What will fome young rake fay to this, who, while he is trying on his boots, laughs within himſelf, to think how he ſhall trick the poor workman. He deſpiſes the man whom he has defrauded, and spends the money in debauchery. It were happy, if the bafenefs of his foul was imprinted on his front; on that front which blufhes not, when he turns down the corner of each ſtreet to fhun the eye of a creditor. I could with, that every man in Paris, who was dreffed beyond his ſtation, thould be obliged, under a fevere penalty, to carry his tailor's receipt in his pocket. +He who is in poffeffion of the fubfidies and finances of a ftate is defpotic in the full extent of the term; and if he does not make all bend before him, it is becauſe it is not always for his intereſt to exert all his power. THE PORTERS OF PARIS. 19 I was aſtoniſhed to find fo much elegance, and fo little embarraſſment in the ſtreets. One would have faid it was the Fete-Dieu *. The city, however, appeared to be extremely populous. There was in each ſtreet a guard that preſerved the public order, and directed the courfe of the carriages, and of the porters; it took particular care to pro- cure a free paffage for the latter, whoſe burdens were proportioned to their ſtrength. You heard not here a wretch panting for breath, covered with fweat, his eyes red with ftraining, and his head bent down, groan under a load that would have charged a beaſt of burden, among a humane people; the rich were not permitted to fport with humanity, by virtue of a few pieces of money; nor did you fee the weak and delicate fex, born to perform the foft and pleafing duties of life, transformed into beafts of burden; in the public markets, bending under weights to which their ſtrength was unequal, and accufing the cruel infenfibility of thofe men who were the tranquil ſpec- tators of their labours. Reftored to their proper ſtation, the women attended to thofe duties only, which the Creator has enjoined them, to bear children, and be the confolation of thoſe who protect them from the evils of life. CHAP. * This feaft, which is in the month of June, is at Paris, the greateſt in the year; the fhops are not only shut, but every houſe is hung with tapeſtry, from the first floor to the ground; all the ſtreets through which the feveral pro- ceffions pafs are fwept and ſtrewed with flowers; and no carriages are fuffered to paſs. [20] CHAP. V. THE CARRIAGES. I OBSERVED, that all who went took the right hand, and all who came the left *. This fim- ple method of avoiding obftruction has been lately diſcovered; fo true it is, that all uſeful inventions are produced by time +. By this regulation all obftruc- tions are avoided, and every paffage is left free. From the public feftivals, where the greateft con- courſe of people refort, to enjoy an entertainment of which they are naturally fond, and of which it would be unjust to deprive them, each one returns to his home without detriment or danger. I faw not there that ridiculous and turbulent fight of an innumerable number of coaches entangled with each other, and the whole body remain immoveable for three hours. together; while the gilded fop, the helpless wretch who fuffers himſelf to be drawn along, forgetting that he has legs, cries out from the coach-window, and laments that he is not able to advance ‡. The * A ftranger can by no means conceive what it is that in France occaſions a perpetual movement among the people, who, from morning to evening, are abfent from their houfes, frequently without any buſineſs, though in an in- comprehenfible agitation. This method, I am informed, has been long ufed in the imperial city of Vienna. This droll fight of a number of carriages intended for expedition, blocked up for a long time by each other, while the THE CARRIAGES. 21 The greatest quantity of people form a circulation that is free, eafy, and perfectly regular. I met a hundred carriages loaded with provifions or move- ables for one coach, and even in that there was only a man who appeared to be infirm. What are be- come, I fuid, of thofe carriages completely gilt, paint- ed, and varniſhed, that in my time crowded the ftreets of Paris? Have you then no farmers of taxes, no courtezans no petits maîtres? Formerly thoſe three defpicable tribes infulted the public, and vied with each other in attracting the regard of the honeft citizen, who fled with precipitation before them, left he ſhould be cruſhed by their chariot-wheels. The nobility of my days regarded the streets of Paris as the lifts of the Olympic games, and placed their glo- ry in the havock they made with their horfes; then it was, "let him fave himſelf that can.” * "Thofe fort of courfes," he replied, " are no longer permitted. Juft fumptuary laws have fup- preffed that barbarous luxury, which ferved only to propagate a race of lackies and horfes +. The favourites the mafters are fretting and the coachmen (wearing, affords fome fatisfaction to the perfecuted foot paſſenger. * We have ſeen a fuperb carriage, drawn by fix horſes, ſumptuouſly harneſſed, through two rows of wondering ar- tifans, who bare-headed faluted a-ſtrumpet. + Thoſe expenſive fots, who parade with a crowd of valets, have been juſtly compared to certain infects, who, though they have many feet are remarkably flow in mo- tion. 22 THE CARRIAGES. favourites of fortune no longer indulge in that crimi. nal luxury fo injurious to the poor. The nobles of our day uſe their own legs, and therefore have more money and lefs of the gout. "You fee, however, fome coaches; they belong to ancient magiſtrates, or to men diſtinguiſhed by by their ſervices, and bending under the weight of years. It is permitted to them only to roll flowly over the pavement, where the lowest citizen is re- fpected. Should one of theſe have the misfortune to lame any paffenger, he would inftantly deſcend from his coach, place the injured perfon in it, and at his own expence, provide him with a carriage for the remainder of his days. But this never hap pens; they who are permitted to have coaches are men of merit, who think it no difgrace to let their horſes give place to a citizen. "Our fovereign himſelf frequently goes on foot amongſt us; ſometimes he even honours our dwell- ings with his prefence; and almoſt always, when tired with walking, reſts himſelf in the fhop of fome artifan * ; he loves to obſerve that natural equality which ought to reign among men; he meets in our eyes with nothing but love and gratitude; our ac- clamations proceed from the heart, and his heart receives them with complacency; he is a fecond Henry IV. he has the fame dignity of foul, the fame benevolence * This was a frequent practice of the late Staniſlaus king of Poland, in the latter part of his life. THE CARRIAGES. 23 benevolence of temper, the fame noble fimplicity; but he is more fortunate: the public ways receive from his footſteps a facred impreffion that every one reveres; none dare breed riot; they are aſhamed to cauſe the leaſt diſorder. "If the king ſhould come by," they fay; that fole reflection would, I believe, ſtop a civil war. How powerful is example, when it proceeds from the firſt perſon iu the nation! how does it affect! what command it has over all men! it becomes an inviolable law." CHAP. VI. THE EMBROIDERED HAT. THINGS feem to me fomewhat to be changed, I faid to my guide; I obſerve that every one is dreffed in a fimple modeft manner; and in all our walk, I have not feen either gold clothes or laced ruffles. In my time, a puerile and deftructive luxury had turned all their brains; a body without a foul was covered with lace; and the automaton then re- ſembled a man." That is the very reaſon which induced us to defpife that ancient livery of pride; our eyes are not confined to the furface. When a man is known to excel in his art, he has no need of a rich habit, nor of magnificent apartments, to re- commend him; he wants not admirers to extol him, or protectors to fupport him; his actions fpeak, and each citizen is defirous that he fhould receive the recompence 24 THE EMBROIDERED HAT. recompence of his merit; they who purfue the fame career are the firſt to folicit in his favour; each one preſents a petition, in which the fervices that he has rendered the ftate are difplayed in the ftrongeſt colours. "Our monarch fails not to invite to his court the man who is dear to his people; he endeavours to receive inftruction from him; for he does not ima- gine that all knowledge was given him at his birth; he profits by the lucid inftructions of him that has made fome grand object the conftant fubject of his enquiry; he preſents that man with a hat, on which the wearers name is embroidered; and that diſtinc- tion far outweighs thofe ribbands, blue, red, and yellow, with which were formerly dreffed up, men that were abfolutely unknown to their country*. "You will readily believe, that an infamous cha- racter dare not prefent itſelf before a public that would immediately difcover the deceit. Whoever bears one of thefe honourable hats has free acceſs to all places; at all times, he is admitted to the fout of the throne; that is a fundamental law: therefore, when *The vanity of the ancients conſiſted in deriving their origin from the gods; fome laboured to prove themſelves the nephews of Neptune, the grandfons of Venus, the coufin germans of Mars; others, more modeft, contented them- félves with being defcended from fome river, nymph, or naiad. Our modern coxcombs have a more gloomy am- bition; they would derive their deſcent from the depths of obfcurity. 2 THE EMBROIDERED HAT. 25 when a prince or a duke has done nothing to obtain the embroidered hat, he enjoys his wealth but is entitled to no honours; he is regarded with the fame indifference as an obfcure citizen, who mixes and is loft in the crowd. "Both policy and reafon authoriſe this diftinc- tion; it can be difpleafing to thofe only who find themſelves incapable of ever attaining it. Man is not fufficiently perfect to do good merely for the fake of good. This fort of nobility, as you will eafily believe, is perſonal only, not hereditary; nor is it venal. At the age of twenty-one, the fon of an illuftrious citizen prefents himſelf before a tribunal, who determine whether ſhe ſhall enjoy the preroga- tives of his father. From his paft conduct, and fometimes from the hopes that he gives, they confirm the honour that appertains to a citizen dear to his country; but if the ſon of Achilles be a baſe Ther- fites, we turn our eyes from him, that he may not have the fhame of blushing before us; he defcends i to an oblivion, as deep as his father's glory was exalted. "In your time, they pushed vice, but they affigned no recompence to virtue; a very imperfect legiſlation. Among us, the man of courage, who has faved the life of a citizen*, who has prevented fome his own. D * It is aſtoniſhing that they allot no rêyard to the man who has faved the life of another, perhaps, at the riſk of An ordinance of the police gives ten crowns to the waterman who takes up a drowned body, but nothing to him who faves a citizen in imminent danger of drowning 26 THE EMBROIDERED HAT. fome public calamity, who has performed fome act of great utility, wears the embroidered hat, and his refpectable name expofed to the public view, gives him precedence to the man of wealth, though it were equal to that of Midas or Plutus*." That, I re- plied, is highly juft. In my time, they gave, indeed, a red hat, which they fetched from beyond the feas ; but it implied no merit in the wearer; it was a mere inftance of ambition: and I know not well on what pretence they obtained it. • CHAP. VII. THE BRIDGE RE-BAPTISED. WHEN our converfation is interefting, the length of the way becomes imperceptible. I no longer felt the weight of age, being quite re-juve- nated by the fight of fo many new obje&s. Bat what did I difcover! O heavens, what a profpect! I found myself on the borders of the Seine, where my enchanted fight beheld a long extent of the moſt beautiful buildings; the Louvre was finifhed; and the When an extreme thirst for wealth poffeffes every breast, the glow and fpirit of virtue vanishes, and govern- ment can only reward by large premiums, thoſe who were formerly fatisfied with titles of honour. Monarchs ſhould therefore create that fpecies of wealth; but, as we ſaid, it will be current only while the minds of men are fufceptible of noble impreffions. THE BRIDGE RE-BAPTIZED. 27 the ſpace that was between that and the palace cf the Thuilleries formed an immenfe place, where they celebrated the public fhews; a new gallery corre fponded to the old one of Perrault, which was ftill beheld with admiration. Theſe two auguſt monu- ments, thus united, formed the moft magnificent palace in the univerfe. All the artists of diftinguifh- ed merit refided in this palace, and formed the moſt refpectable part of the attendants of a monarch, who valued nothing ſo much as patronizing thofe arts that gave birth to the glory and happineſs of his em- pire. I faw a fuperb public place that was capable of containing the whole body of the citizens; a tem- ple was in front; it was the temple of Juſtice; the architecture of that building correſponded with the dignity of the object. How it is deco- Is that the Pont-Neuf? I cried. 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 appofite or fignificant; for nothing has a greater influence on the people than the uſe of juft and expreffive terms. Behold the bridge of Henry IV. As it forms a com- munication between the two parts of the city, it could not bear a more reſpectable title. In each of the femicircles, we have placed the ftatues 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 hefitäted to place befide him the chancellor L'Hopital, Sully, Jeannin, and Colbert. What a treatiſe on morality! What public lecture is D 2 fo 28 THE BRIDGE RE-BAPTIZED. fo eloquent, fo perfuafive, as this range of heroes, whofe figures, though dumb, yet expreffive, tell to every one how great and defirable it is to obtain the public eſteem. Your age had not the glory to per- form fuch an action."-Alas! my age found the greatest difficulties in the ſmalleſt enterprizes; they made the moſt extraordinary preparatives to an- nounce with pomp an abortion; a grain of fand ſtop- ped the movement of the moſt boaſted ſprings; in fpeculation, they erected the moſt noble fabrics; the tongue and the pen feemed to be the univerfal inftru- ments. All things have their time. Our age was that of innumerable projects; yours is that of execu tion. I congratulate you on your felicity, and re- joice to think that I have lived fo long. CHAP. VIII. THE NEW PARIS. ON turning my fight toward that part where food the bridge formerly called Pont-au-Change, I faw that it was no longer loaded with wretched ho- vels*; my view extended with pleaſure along the vaſt courfe The thouſands of men that refort to the fame spot, who dwell in houfes of feven fories, who crowd together in narrow ſtreets, who inceffantly labour an exhauſted foil, while nature fets before them a vaft and pleaſant country, is an object in the eye of a philofopher, highly aſtoniſhing. The THE NEW PARIS. 29 courfe of the Seine, and the profpect, ftrictly regular, was further graced by novelty. Thefe, indeed, are admirable improvements!- "'Tis true; yet 'tis pity, that they ſhould remind us of a fatal accident cauſed by your negligence.”- How our negligence? if you pleaſe." Hiſtory re- lates that you talked perpetually of pulling down. thofe miferable houfes, without performing it. On a certain day, therefore, when your magiftrates pre- ceded a fumptuous feaſt with a fire-work, in order to commemorate the anniverfary of fome faint, to whom, doubtleſs, France had great obligations; the firing of the cannon, the petards, and mines, over- threw the ruinated houſes built on thoſe old bridges; they tottered and fell on the wretched inhabitants; the fall of one was the ruin of another; a thoufand citizens perished; and the magiftrates, to whom ap pertained the revenues of the houſes, curfed not only the fire-work, but the very feaſt. "The fucceeding years they made not fo much noiſe about nothing; the money that fprung up in the air, or caufed dangerous indigeftions, was em- ployed The rich repair thither to increase their power, and prevent an abuſe of their power by that power itſelf. The poor cheat, flatter, and fet themſelves to fale. They who do not fucceed are hanged; the others become perfons of confe- quence. It is eaſy to conceive, that in this perpetual and brutal conflict of interefts, the duties of the man and of the citizen are ſcarce longer to be found, * D 3 30 THE NEW PARIS. ployed in forming a capital for the reſtoring and maintaining of bridges; they regretted the not having obferved this method before; but it was the fate of your age to difregard their follies, though enormous, till they were completely finiſhed. "Let us walk, if you pleaſe, this way; you will fee fome demolitions that we have made, I think, not improperly. The two wings of the Quatre Nations* no longer fpuil one of the finest quays, and perpetuate the vindictive temper of a cardinal. We have placed the town houſe oppofite to the Louvre. When we give any public entertainment, we think justly that it is intended for the people; the place is fpacious; no one is injured by the fire-works, or by the bruta- lity of the foldiers, who, they fay, in your time, (can it be believed?) fometimes wounded the citizens, and wounded them with impunity †. "You fee that we have placed the flatue of the ſeveral kings that fucceeded yours on the middle of each bridge. This range of monarchs, elevated with- out * A college of that name, nearly oppofite the Louvre, founded by cardinal Mazarine, for the education of fixty pupils of four nations, which are Italy, Germany, Flanders, and Roufillon, a county in the Pyrenees, between Langue- doc and Catalonia. This is what I have ſeen, and of which I here pub- licly accuſe the magiſtrates, who ought to be more foli- citous for the life of one citizen than for twenty public fire- works. THE NEW PARIS. 31 out pomp, in the centre of Paris, affords a grand and interefting profpect over the river that adorns and refreſhes 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 incloſed in fquares, where the eye is bounded*. Thefe, grand and natural, were erected without any great expence; our kings, after their deceafe, did not impoſe that laft tribute, which in your age oppreffed the fubject, already exhaufted." I obferve, with great fatisfaction, that you have taken away the flaves that were chained to the feet of the ſtatues of our kings+; that you have obliterat- ed every faftuous infeription; and though that grofs flattery is of all others the leaft dangerous, you have carefully avoided even the appearance of falfe- hood and oftentation. They * The houſes of the farmers of the public taxes, for the moſt part, encircle the ftatues of our kings; fo that they cannot, even after their death, avoid being furrounded by fcoundrels. + Lewis XIV. uſed to ſay, that of all the governments in the world, that of the Grand Turk pleafed him moſt. A greater inſtance of pride and ignorance cannot be pro- duced. It This evidently refers to the outré ſtatue of Lewis XIV. in the Place des Victoires, and to the bombaſtic inſcription on the pedeſtal, which calls him," the immortal man."' is but juſtice to the Parifians to add, that they are in gene- ral difgufted with the one and the other. 32 THE NEW PARIS. They tell me that the Baftile has been totally de- moliſhed by a prince who did not think himſelf a god among men, but held the Judge of kings in due re- verence. They fay, moreover, that on the ruins of that hideous caftle (fo properly called the Place of Vengeance, and of a royal vengeance) they have erected a temple to Clemency; that no citizen is fnatched from fociety, without his proceſs being firſt publicly made; that a lettre de cachet is a term un- known to the people, and ſerves only to exerciſe the curiofity of thoſe who bufy themfelves with invefti- gating the antiquated terms of barbarous ages. There had been, they added, a treatife compofed, intitled, "A Parallel between a Lettre de Cachet and the Afiatic Bow String." We arrived infenfibly at the Thuilleries, where every one was admitted; and it now appeared to me more charming than ever*. They made me no demand for a feat in that royal garden. We found ourfelves at the Place of Lewis XV. My guide, taking me by the hand, faid, with a fmile, "You must have ſeen the inauguration of this equeftrian ftatue.” -Yes; I was then young, and no lefs curious than at prefent." But, do you know," he faid, "that it is a chief-d'œuvre worthy of our age? We fill con- ftantly admire it; and when we furvey the perſpective of the palace, it appears, eſpecially by the fetting fun, crowned * To refuſe the common people an entrance into this gar- den feems to me a wanton infult, and of a higher degree than is commonly imagined. THE NEW PARIS: 33 C crowned by the moſt illuftrious rays. Theſe magni- ficent viſtas form a happy encloſure; and he who projected the plan was, by no means, deftitute of taſte; he had the fagacity to foreſee the effect they would one day produce. I have read, however, that, in your day there were men as jealous as ignorant, who vented their cenfure againſt this ftatue and place, which they ought to have admired*. If, at this time, there fhould be a man ſtupid enough to utter ſuch abfurdities, he would certainly be treated with the higheft contempt." I continued my entertaining walk; but the detail would be too long: befide, in recollecting a dream, fomething is always loft. The corner of every ſtreet prefented a beautiful buntain, from which there. flowed a pure and limpid ftream that fell into a ſhell, whofe furface refembled the beaten filver, and the tranfparency of the water invited the thirsty paffen. gers to a falutary refreſhment. The clear ftream that fell from the fountain, as it flowed through the ftreets, plentifully washed the pavement. "Behold the project of your M. Defparcieux, member of the academy of ſciences, completely ac- compliſhed. See how every houfe is furniſhed with that *It is only in France, that the art of keeping filence is not regarded as a merit, A Frenchman is not more easily known by his countenance and his accent than by the lege- rity with which he talks and determines on all ſubjects; he never knows how to ſay, “ I underſtand nothing of that.” 34 THE NEW PARIS. that which is of all things the moſt uſeful, the moſt neceffary. What elegance to our dwellings, what refreſhment to the air, is derived from this fingle cir cumſtance. "We no longer erect thofe dangerous chimnies. which threatened to crush each paffenger by their fall; our roofs have not that Gothic declivity, from which a gust of wind could blow the tiles into the moſt frequented ſtreets."—We afcended to the top of one of their houfes by a luminous ftair-cafe. What a pleaſure was it to me, who love the free air and an extenſive proſpect, to find the tops of the houſes or- namented with pots of flowers, and covered with fweet-fccnted arbours; the ſummit of each houſe of- fered fuch a terras, and as they were all of an equal height, they formed together one vaft and delightful garden; ſo that the whole city, when viewed from the top of fome tower, appeared to be crowned with ver- dure, fruits, and flowers. I need not tell you, that the Hotel Dieu was no longer incloſed in the centre of the city. If any ſtranger or citizen falls fick, when diftant from his country or his family, we do not, they ſaid, impriſon 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 ſimple indifpofition into a cruel diſeaſe. We have divided that hofpital into twenty diflint houſes, which are placed at the different extremitics of the city. By that means, the foul air which ex- haled THE NEW PARIS. 35 * haled from that horrid gulph is difperfed, and no longer dangerous to the capital. The fick, more- over, are not driven to thoſe hoſpitals by extreme in- digence; they do not go thither already ſtruck with the idea of death, and merely to fecure an interment; but becauſe they there find more ready and efficacious fuccour than in their own habitations. You there no longer fee that horrid mixture, that fhocking confu- fion, which announced a place of vengeance rather than cf charity. Each patient has a feparate bed, and can expire without reviling the human race. They have fcrutinized the accounts of the directors. O fhame! O grief! O incredible guilt! that men fhould enrich themfelves with the fubftance of the poor, find happineſs in the miſeries of their fellow. creatures, drive a gainful bargain with death!—But no more; the time for thefe iniquities is paſt; 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 filth, and alounds with the feeds of corruption, is drank by one half of the city. In that part of the river which washes the quay Pelletier, and between the two bridges, a great number of dyers pour in their dregs three times a week. I have ſeen the water retain a dingy hue for more than fix hours after. The arch that compoſes the quay de Gevres is the fink of peftilence; the inhabitants of all that part of the town drink an infected water, and breathe empoifoned air. The money that is fo prodigally fpent in fire works would be fufficicnt to rid the city of this curſe. 36 THE NEW PARIS. the greatest complacency; thofe enormous abuſes are all corrected, and the poor fick mortal has now nothing to encounter but his diſeaſe, and, oppreffed by that alone, he fuffers in filence *. “Learned and humane phyſicians here affiduoufly examine each particular patient; not pronounce fen- tence of death, by promifcuoufly dictating general precepts. By their difcerning and attentive conduct, health is foon reſtored. The phyficians we rank among the moſt refpectable of our citizens. In fact, what * I have ſometimes walked with flow and folitary ſleps through the wards of the Hotel Dieu at Paris. What place more proper to meditate on the fate of man? I have feen there inhuman avarice decorated with the name of pub- lic charity; I have feen the dying crowded cloſer together than they ought to have been in the grave, precipitate the death of their miferable companions; I have ſeen their pångs and their tears regarded with a general unçoncern ; the fword of death ftruck on the right and on the left, and not a figh was heard: one would have thought that they were killing beaſts in a flaughter houfe. I have feen men fo hardened by this fight, as to wonder that any one fhould be affected. A few days after, I have been at the opera. What a profufe amufement! Decorations, actors, inuficians! an enormous expence to procure apom- pous entertainment! What will pofterity fay, when they fhall be told that two fo different places could fubfift in the fame city. How, alas! can they exist on the fame fpot? Does not the one neceffarily exclude the other? A ſhort time after the royal academy of muſic overwhelmed my foul; the firft ftroke of the bow brought before my cyes the mournful bed of thofe dying wretches. 2 THE NEW PARIS. 37 what employment more amiable, more illuſtrious, more worthy of a virtuous and fagacious being, than to preferve the delicate thread of our days, by na- ture frail and fleeting, but by art rendered ſtrong and durable ?”—But your general hofpital, where is that fituated?" We have no general hofpital *, no Bicetret, no places of confinement, or rather dif traction. A found body has no need of the cautery. Luxury, in your time, had gangrened the vital parts. of your conftitution; your political body was cover- ed with ulcers; and, inſtead of gently healing thoſe fhameful fores, you added to them freſh malignity. You * The Hoſpital General of Paris is a fort of general work-houſe. It is faid to contain ten or eleven thouſand perfons. + In the prifon of the Bicetre, there is a room called the Salle de Force, that is a type of the infernal regions. Six hundred wretches, crouded together, oppreffed by their miferies, by a foul air, by the vermin that devour them, by defpair, and by a rancour ftill more cruel, live in the fermentation of a filed rage: it is the puniſhment of Mezentius a thouſand times multiplied (¶). The magif trates are deaf to the cries of thefe unhappy people. We have ſeen them murder their gaolers, the furgeons, the very prieſt that attended them, with the fole view of being delivered from that place and expiring with more freedom on the fcaffold. It has been justly remarked, that death would be a lefs barbarous puniſhment than what they fuffer. O ye inhuman magiftrates! iron-hearted wretches, nnworthy the name of men! you offend againſt humanity ¶ Vide Virg. Æn. lib. viii. ver. 483. B E A31 -38 THE NEW PARIS. You thought to have extinguiſhed vice by cruelty; inhuman becauſe you were incapable of forming juft laws *. "You found it more eafy to torment the guilty and unfortunate than to prevent diforder and miſery. Your barbarous violence has only ferved to harden the hearts of criminals, and to make them more def perate. And what have you gained by this condu&t ? Tears, diſtracted cries, and curfes. You feem to have modelled your places of confinement after your ide. fill more than thoſe you puniſh! No band of ruffians in the midſt of their ferocity, ever exerciſed cruelties like yours. Dare to ſeem ſtill more inhuman, but execute more ſpeedy juftice; fet fire to their prifon, and burn them all alive; you will ſpare them the greater mifery of attending your determinations in their horrible flavery: but, alas! you feem only anxious to protract it. Might not each of thefe unhappy men, have a heavy weight fixed to his foot, and be fent to till the ground? No; they are the victims of an arbitrary power that you would conceal from every eye.-I understand you. * Yes, magiftrates, it is your ignorance, your idleness, and precipitation, that cauſe deſpair among the poor. You impriſon a man for a mere trifle, and place him by the fide of a mifcrcant: you corrupt, you poifon his mind, and then leave him, forgot, amidſt a herd of abandoned wretches; but he does not forget your injuſtice: as you obferve no proportion between the crime and the punith- ment, he imitates your example, and all things become to him equal. + 1 幾 ​THE NEW PARIS. 39 idea of that horrible dwelling you called the infernal regions, where the minifters of vengeance accumu- late tortures, for the horrid pleaſure of inflicting a laſting puniſhment 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 your beggars; the utmoſt difcernment of your government confifted in fhutting them up, and leav- ing them to perifh with hunger. Thefe wretches, who expired by a flow death in a corner of the king- dom, have notwithstanding 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 baſe tyranny in that inftance has recalled a thouſand 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 *. After a fhort filence, faid I, Ah! do not renew the wounds of my heart. God has avenged the evil they did to mankind; he has puniſhed the hardneſs of their hearts; you know—But let us purſue our walk. You have, I think, fuffered one of our political evils to fubfift: Paris appears to me as populous as in my time; and it was then proved, that the head E 2 was † I have ſatisfied my heart, and executed juftice, in an- nouncing this invafion of humanity, this horrid outrage that will ſcarce be believed: but, alas! it nevertheleſs fubfifts. 40 THE NEW PARIS. was three times too large for the body." I am well pleafed to inform you," replied my guide, "that the number of inhabitants in the kingdom is doubled; that all the lands are cultivated; and confequently the head bears now a juft proportion to the members. This great city conflantly produces as many men of the first rank, men of learning, of ufeful induftry, and refined genius, as all the other cities of France together."-But one word more, of too much im- portance to be forgot: Do you place your magazines of powder in the centre of the city?" We are far from that imprudence. Nature produces fufficient exploſions. We need not conftruct thoſe that are artificial, and would be a hundred times more dan- gerous * ;*. > छ CHAP. *There are magazines of powder in the centre of almoſt every town The lightning, and a thouſand other unfore- feen, nay, unknown incidents, may blow them up. A thouſand terrible examples (a thing ſcarce credible) have not been fufficient to correct even to this hour, the weak- nefs of mankind. The lofs of two thouſand five hundred people, who perifhed in the ruins at Breſcia, will perhaps render our governors attentive to an evil, which may juftly be called the work of their hands, as it is in their power fo eaſily to prevent it. [ 41 ] ? 1 CHAP. IX. THE PETITIONS. I OBSERVED feveral officers, habited with the enfigns of their rank, who came to receive the complaints of the people, and make a faithful report of them to the chief magiftrates. Every thing that regarded the adminiftration of the police was treated with the greateſt diſpatch; juftice was rendered to the injured; and every one bleffed the adminiſtra- tors*. I poured forth my praifes on this wife and prudent government. But, gentlemen, I faid, you are not entitled to all the glory of this inftitution. In my days, the city began to be well governed. A vigilant police watched over every rank and all tranf- actions. One of thoſe who maintained it in the greatest order, deferves to be named with eulogy amidſt you. We read, among his judicious ordi- nances, that for aboliſhing thofe ridiculous and heavy figns which disfigured the city, and endanger- ed the paffengers; that for completing, or rather inventing, of lamps; and for the admirable plan of a fpeedy fupply of water, by which the inhabitants have * When a miniſter of ſtate, by his bad management, puts the monarchy in danger, or when a general ſheds the blood of the ſubjects to no purpofe, and fhamefully lofes a battle, his puniſhment is known; he is forbid to come into the monarch's prefence. Thus crimes that may ruin the nation are treated as mere trifles. E 3 42 THE PETITIONS. C have been preſerved from thoſe fires which were formerly fo frequent*. "It is true," they replied, "that magiſtrate was indefatigable, and equal to the duties of his office, extenfive as they were. But the police had not then received its full perfection; fpies were then the prin- cipal agents of a government weak, reſtleſs, and mutinousf. They were moreover very frequently employed in a criminal curiofity, rather than in what ſtrictly regarded the public utility; all their diſcoveries, fo artfully procured, frequently pro- duced nothing more than a falſe light that deceived the magiftrate. What was worſe, this corps of in- formers, feduced by bribes, became a corrupted mafs that infected fociety; all the pleaſures of converfa- tion were baniſhed‡; men could no longer open their hearts * If this author thinks the fires in Paris frequent, where there is ſcarce a houſe burned in a year, and where no one ever thought it worth while to erect an office of infurance, what would he fay to thoſe at London? In fact the French houfes are fo conftructed as not eaſily to be burned. The quantity of ſpies in Paris is incredible; beſides a great number who make it their fole buſineſs, almoſt all that large corps, who by day clean fhoes, and at night carry a falot, that is, a farthing candle in a paper lanthern, are of that honourable order. ↑ All fuch frivolous and capricious regulations, all thofe refinements in the police, can impofe on them only who have never ftudied the heart of man. Such rigid reftrictions produce THE PETITIONS. 43 រឺ 3 hearts to each other; they were reduced to the cruel alternative of imprudence or hypocrify. In vain did the foul ſtruggle to exprefs its ideas of patriotiſm; it dared not declare its fentiments; faw the fnare that was ſpread, and pierced with grief, returned cold and folitary to its fecret abode. In a word, men were then inceffantly obliged to diſguiſe their words, their looks, and actions. O! how diſtracting to the generous foul, who faw the monsters of his country fmile while they preyed upon it; who faw, and dared not point them out*” CHAP. produce a hateful fubordination, fecured by bands on which very little dependence can be placed. * We have not yet had a Juvenal. What age ever more deſerved ſuch a ſatiriſt? Juvenal was not a ſelfiſh wretch, like the flatterer Horace, or the infipid Boileau; he had a firm foul, that thoroughly detefted vice, frankly declared war againſt it, and purſued it when fheltered under the purple. Who now dare affume that fublime and generous taſk? Who now has fortitude fufficient to render up his foul to truth, and ſay to his age, "I leave thee the teſta- ment that virtue hath dictated to me; read and blush: it is thus I bid thee farewell." [ 44 ] CHAP. X. THE MAN WITH A MASK. BUT, , pray, who is that man that paffes with a maſk on his face? How faft he walks, or rather flies!" It is an author that has wrote a bad book. When I fay bad, I fpeak not of the defects of judgment or ftyle; an excellent work may be made by the aid of plain ſtrong ſenſe alone*; I only mean that he has published dangerous principles fuch as are inconfiftent with found morality, that univerfal morality which speaks to every heart. By way of reparation, he wears a maſk, in order to hide his fhame, till he has effaced it by writing fomething more rational and beneficial to fociety. daily vifited by two worthy citizens, who combat his erroneous opinions with the arms of eloquence and complacency, hear his objections, confute them, and will engage him to retract when he fhall be convinced. Then he will be re-eſtabliſhed; he will even acquire from the confeffion of his errors a greater glory; for what is more commendable than to abjure our faultst, and to embrace new lights with a noble fincerity ?"-But was his book well received? He is *Nothing is more true; for even the homily of fome country curate is of more folid utility, than a book artfully filled with truths and fophifms. † All things are demonſtrative in theory; even error has ts geometry. THE MAN WITH A MASK. 45 received?" What private perfon, I beseech you, can dare to judge of a book againſt the opinion of the public? Who can fay what can be the influence of a particular fentiment in a particular circumftance? Each author anfwers perfonally for what he writes, and never conceals his name. It is the public that marks him with dilgrace, if he oppofe thofe facred principles which ferve as the bafis to the conduct and probity of man. He muft of himself likewife fupport any new truth that he advances, and that is proper to fupprefs fome abuſe. In a word, the public voice is the fole judge in thefe cafes; and it is to that alone regard is paid. Every author, as a public man, is to be judged by the general voice, and not by the caprice of a fingle critic, who rarely has a defcern- ment fufficiently juſt, and knowledge fufficiently ex- tenfive, to determine, what will appear to the body of the people truly deferving of praiſe or blame. "It has been abundantly proved, that the liberty of the prefs is the true meaſure of the liberty of the people. The one cannot be attacked without injury to the other. Our thoughts ought to be perfectly free; to bridle them, or ftifle them in their fanctuary, is the crime of leze humanity. What can I call my own, if my thoughts are not mine ?” In my time, I replied, men in power feared nothing fo much as the pen of an able writer; their fouls, proud and guilty, trembled in their inmoft receffes, * This is equivalent to a mathematical demonſtration, 46 THE MAN WITH A MASK. receffes, when equity boldly plucked off the veil that covered their fhame*. Therefore, inftead of pro- tecting that public cenfure, which, well adminftered, would have been the ftrongest check to vice and folly, they obliged all writings to pafs through a fieve; and one which was fo clofe that frequently the moſt valu able parts were left behind. The flights of genius were in fubjection to the cruel fheers of mediocrity, who clipt its wings without mercyt. They began to laugh. "It muſt have been a droll fight," they faid, "to ſee men gravely employed in cutting a thought in tw, and weighing of fyllables. It is wonderful that you produced any thing good, when fo fhackled. How is it poffible to dance with grace and cafe, when loaded with heavy fetters?-Our beſt writers took the most natural means to fhake them off. Fear debaſes the mind, and the man who is animated with the love of humanity fhould have a noble *In a drama, intitled The Marriage of a King's Son, a miniſter of juſtice, a court fcoundrel, fays to his valet, fpeak- ing of philofophical writers, "This fort of people are dangerous; we cannot countenance the leaſt act of injuſtice but they will remark it. It is in vain that we hide our faces under an artful maſk from the moſt diſcerning paſſenger, Theſe men have a manner of faying, en paſant, I know you. ."-Meffieurs Philofophers, I hope you will learn that it is dangerous to know a man of my fort. I will not be known by you, + One half of thoſe they call royal cenforers cannot be ranked among men of letters, not even thoſe of the lowest claſs; for it may be literally faid of them, that they know not how to read. THE MAN WITH A MASK. 47 noble and dauntlefs fpirit. You may now write againſt all that offends you," they replied, "for we have no fieves, nor fheers, nor manacles; yet very few abfurdities are publiſhed, becauſe they would of themſelves periſh among their kindred dirt. Our government is far above all invective; it fears not the keeneſt pens; it would accuſe itſelf by fearing them. Its conduct is juft and fincere; we can only extol it; and when the intereſt of our country re- quires, every man, in his particular ſtation, becomes an author, without pretending to an exclufive right to that title." 空 ​CHAP. XI, THE NEW TESTAMENTS. O HEAVENS! What is it you tell me? All the world authors! Why your walls will catch fire like gunpowder, and blow into the air. Mercy on us! A whole nation of authors!" Yes; but with- out ill nature, pride or difdain. Every man writes the thoughts that occur in his brighteſt moments; at a certain age, he collects the moft judicious re- flections that he has made in the courfe of his days; in his last years, he forms them into a book, greater or leſs according to his talent for reflection, and mode of expreffion. This book is the foul of the deceaſed. On the day of his funeral, it is read > aloud; 48 THE NEW TESTAMENTS. aloud; and that is his eulogy. Our children collect with reverence all the reflections of their forefathers, and meditate on them. Theſe are our funeral arns; and feem to us more valuable than your fumptuous mausoleums, your tombs covered with wretched infcriptions, dictated by pride, and executed by bafenefs. "We thus make it a duty to leave our defcendants a faithful image of our lives. An honourable re- membrance is the fole property that can remain to us on the earth*; and we do not neglect it. Thefe immortal leffons that we leave our pofterity make us ſtill more beloved by them. Portraits and ſtatues preferve the body's femblance only. Why not re- prefent the foul, and the virtuous fentiments by which it was affected? They are multiplied by the animated expreffion that affection excites; the hiſtory of our thoughts and of our actions inftruct our fami- lies; they learn, by the choice and compariſon of thoughts, to improve their manner of thinking and judging. Obferve, moreover, that the predominant writers, the men of genius, in every age, are the funs that attract the mafs of ideas, and caufe them to circulate. It is they that give the first movements; and as their generous hearts burn with the love of humanity, all other hearts obey that fublime and victorious voice, which has laid tyranny and fuper- ftition * Cicero frequently-aſked himſelf what they would fay of him after his death. The man who has no regard to repu- tation, will neglect the means of acquiring it. 2 THE NEW TESTAMENTS. 49 ftition in the dust."-Gentlemen, permit me, I en- treat you, to defend my age, at leaſt in thoſe points We had, I in which it deferves commendation. think, amongst us, fome men of virtue and of genius. “Yes, barbarians! but they were either difregard- ed or perfecuted by you. We have thought ourſelves obliged to make an expiatory reparation to their offended names; we have erected their ſtatues in the public places, where they receive our homage as well as that of foreigners. Under the right foot of each is placed the ignoble head of fome Zoilus or tyrant; under the buſkin 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 fooliſh brutal rage of their perfecutors; they feem to have proportioned their rancour to the degree of fublimity thofe eagles attained; but they are configned to the opprobrium which deferves to be their eternal inheritance." On faying theſe words, he conducted me towards a place where the ftatues of thofe great men were erected. There I faw Corneille, Moliere, Fontaine, Montefquieu, Rouffeau*, Buffon, Voltaire, Mira- bean, * I heartily with the author had informed us on whoſe heads flood the fect of Rouffeau, Voltaire, and others whofe names are ranked with thefe. We ſhould certainly have heard of heads mitred and unmitred, in an uneafy lituation; but every one has his day. †The author of Emilius is here meant, and not that frothy poet, void of Ideas, who had no other talent than F that 50 THE COLLEGE OF beau, &c. All theſe 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 Dictionary, which we have carefully digefted." -You furprife me! the Encyclopedia! an elementary book! O what a flight you muſt have taken toward the higher fciences! and how do I burn to receive inftruction from you! Let me behold your treaſures, and enjoy in one inftant the accumulated labours of fix glorious centuries. CHAP. XII. THE COLLEGE OF QUATRE NATIONS* Do you teach your children Greek and La- you tin? In my time they tortured them with thoſe lan- guages. Do confecrate ten years, the moſt pre- cious and pleafing of their lives, in giving them a fuperficial tincture of two dead languages they will never ſpeak?"We know better how to employ their time. The Greek language is doubtleſs very venerable, on account of its antiquity; but we have Homer, that of arranging words, and giving them a fictitious pomp, under which he hid the fterility of his invention, and the torpid ſtate of his genius. * * See the note on page 30. QUATRE NATIONS, 5x Homer, Plato, and Sophocles perfectly tranflated * whatever fome pedants may have faid of the impof- fibility of expreffing their beauties. As to the Latin language, which, being more modern, muſt in confe- quence be lefs excellent. It has died a natural death." How is that?" The French language has pre- vailed univerfally. They at firft made fuch finished tranflations as almoft rendered it fuperfluous to have recourſe to the originals; and they have fince com- poſed ſuch works as are worthy to efface thofe of the ancients. Thefe now poems are incomparably more ufeful, and more interefting to us, more relative to our manners, to our government, to our progreſs in philofophical knowledge and in politics, and lafly to that moral view of which we ſhould never lofe fight. The two antiquated languages, of which we fhall fay more hereafter, are now uſed by a few learned men only. We read Livy almoſt in the fame manner as we do the Alcoran."-I perceive the college, how- ever, ſtill bears on its front, in large characters, Ecole des Quatre Nations." We have preferved this build- ing, and even its name, in order to apply it to better purpoſes. There are now four claffes in this college, who * Inftead of giving us differtations on the head of Anu- bis, on Oſiris, and a thouſand uſeleſs rhapſodies, why do not the members of the Royal Academy of Infcriptions employ their time in tranflating the Greek authors, whom they pretend to underſtand fo well? Demofthenes is fcarce known to us. That would be of more utility than to know what fort of pins the Roman ladies wore in their head- dreſs, the form of their necklace, and whether the claſps of their gowns were round or oval. F 2 52 THE COLLEGE OF who are taught Italian, Engliſh, German and Spanish. Enriched with the treaſures of thefe living languages, we do not in the leaft envy the ancients. This laſt nation, which contained within itfelf the feeds of grandeur, that nothing could deftroy, has been fud- denly enlightened by one of thofe powerful ftrokes, that it is impoffible to expect or forefee; the revolu- tion has been as fudden as happy, becauſe the light fell at firſt on the head; whereas, in other ſtates, that has been almost always plunged in darkneſs. Stupidity and pedantry are banished from this col- lege; and ftrangers 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. From this mutual correfpondence maffes of light have been reciprocally reflected. Another ad- vantage arifes from this, which is, that as the com merce of thoughts is extended, natural prejudices are infenfibly extinguiſhed; men have been convinced that a few particular cuftoms ought not to deftroy that univerſal reaſon which ſpeaks from one end of the world to the other; and that their thoughts were in reality very near the fame on thoſe ſubjects, that have occafioned fuch long and warm diſputes." But what does the univerfity, that eldeſt daughter of our kings?" She is become a caft-off miſtreſs. That old maiden, after receiving the laſt ſighs of a faſti- dious and affected language, would have paffed it on the world for new, blooming, and enchanting. She tranfpofed the periods, mangled the hemiftics, and in a barbarous and ſlovenly jargon, pretended to revive the QUATRE NATIONS. 53 the language of the Auguftan age. It was at laſt perceived, that her diſcordant voice was near exhauſt- ed, and that ſhe brought a yawning upon the court, the city, and eſpecially on her difciples. By an arret of the French academy, fhe was ordered to appear before their tribunal, to give an account of the good fhe had done for the four laſt centuries; during which fhe had been fupported, honoured, and penfioned. She would have pleaded her cauſe in her ludicrous idiom, which certainly the Latins themſelves would never have understood; for of the French ſhe was totally ignorant; fhe therefore dared not to hazard herſelf before her judges. "The academy took pity on her embarraſſment; fhe was charitably ordered to remain filent. 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, the has applied herſelf ſolely to the teaching of that fine language, which the French academy is every day, improving; and which, leſs timid, lefs fcrupulous, corrects it, without always diminiſhing its force.". And the military academy, what is become of that?- "It has fuffered the deftiny of all the rest of the col- leges. It contained every other abufe befides thoſe that were peculiar to its inftitution. Men are not made as they make foldiers."-Pardon me, if I tref. paſs 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 ftupid. The beſt E 3 of 54 THE COLLEGE OF of them all, the moft fimple, the moſt rational, and, at the fame time, the moſt profound, was burned by the hands of the common hangman, and decried by thoſe who underſtood 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 inftitution. But to confine our- felves to the culture of the mind: while we fami- liarize our children with the letters, we bring them acquainted with the operations of algebra. art is fimple, of general utility, and not more difficult to learn than it is to read; even the fhadow of diffi- culty has been removed; the algebraic characters no longer pafs among the vulgar for thofe of magic *, We have found that this fcience habituates the mind to confider matters rigorously as they are: and that this mode of reafoning is of the higheſt importance when applied to the fciences. That They formerly taught youth a multiplicity of knowledge that in no degree conduced to the happi- nefs *Soon after the art of printing was known at Paris, fome one undertook to print Euclid's Elements. The workman- employed, feeing it contain a number of ſquares, circles, triangles, &c. imagined that it was a book of forcery, in- tended for railing the devil, who, for ought he knew, might fetch him away in the midſt of his work; he there- fore declined it; but his maſter infifted on his perfevering. The poor fellow, believing that they were determined on his deſtruction, was fo terrified, that, deaf to reafon and his confeſſor, he died of the fright a few days after. QUATRE NATIONS. 55 nefs of life. We have felected thoſe objects only that will give them true and uſeful ideas; they were in- ftructed univerfally in two dead languages, which were imagined to contain every ſort of ſcience, but which could not give them the leaſt idea of thofe men with whom they were to live. We content ourſelves with teaching them the national language, and even permit them to modify it after their own tafte; for we do not wiſh to form grammarians, but men of elo- quence. The ſtyle reſembles the man; and the man of genius cught to have a correfpondent idiom; very different from the nomenclature, the only refource of weak minds, whofe memories are treacherous. We teach them little hiftory, becauſe hiftory is the difgrace of humanity, every page being crowded with crimes and follies. God forbid that we fhould fet be- fore their eyes fuch examples of rapine and ambition. By the pedantry of hiftory, kings have been raiſed to gods. We teach our children a logic more cer- tain, and ideas more juſt. Thoſe frigid chronologiſts, thofe nomenclatures of every age, all thoſe roman- tic or debaſed writers, who have been the firſt to bow down before their idols, are obliterated, together with the panegyrifts of the princes of the earth. What! when the time is fo fhort and rapid, fhall we employ our children in crowding their memories with a num- ber * From Pharamond to Henry IV. we can fcarce name two kings, I will not fay who knew how to reign, but who knew how to employ that good fenfe in their adininiſtration that a private perfon obferves in the economy of his fa- mily. * 56 THE COLLEGE OF ber of names, of dates, of facts, and genealogical trees? What wretched trifling, when the vaft fields of morality and phyfics lie open before us! It is to no purpoſe to ſay that hiſtory furnishes examples of inftruction 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 fhewing that men have in all ages bowed the neck like flaves; by expofing the fruitless efforts of liberty, expiring under the at- tacks of men who founded a modern tyranny on that of the ancients. If a man of an amiable, virtuous character aroſe, his cotemporaries were monfters, by whom all his efforts were rendered abortive. picture of virtue trampled under foot is doubtlefs very-juft; but at the fame time, it is highly dangerous to be expofed. It is only for the man of determined reſolution to behold ſuch a repreſentation without terror; and he feels a ſecret joy in reflecting on the tranſient triumph of vice, and the eternal reward that is the portion of virtue. But from children fuch pic- tures fhould be concealed; they fhould be made to contract a placid habit, with notions of order aud equity, which ſhould, fo to speak, compofe the fub- ftance This *The fcene changes in hiftory, it is true, but for the moft part to introduce new evils; for kings are followed by an indiſſoluble chain of calamities. A monarch, on his advancement to the throne, thinks he does not reign, if he purfue the ancient plans; the old fyſtems that have coſt fo much blood, muſt be abolished, and new ones eſtabliſhed; theſe agree not with the former, and at the fame time are not lefs prejudicial. QUATRE NATIONS. 57 tance of their minds. We do not teach them an idle morality that confifts in frivolous queſtions, but one that is practicable and may be applied to all their actions, that ſpeaks by images, that forms their hearts to humanity, to courage, and to facrifice ſelf- intereft, or, to ſay all in one word, to generoſity. "We have a fufficient contempt for metaphyfics, thofe gloomy regions where every one erects a fyftem of chimeras, and always to no purpoſe. It is from thence they have drawn imperfect images of the di- vinity, have disfigured his effence by refining on his attributes, and have confounded human reafon by placing it on a flippery and moveable point, from whence it is continually ready to fall into doubt. It is by phyfics, that key to nature, that living and pal- pable ſcience, we are enabled to run through the la- byrinth of this marvellous affemblage of beings, and to perceive the wiſdom and power of the Creator; that ſcience properly inveftigated, delivers us from an infinity of errors, and the unformed maſs of pre- judices give place to that pure light which it ſpreads over all objects. "At a certain age we permit a young man to read the poets. Thoſe of the preſent day know how to unite wiſdom with enthuſiaſm; they do not deceive reafon by a cadence and harmony of words, and find themſelves led, as it were against their inclination, into the falſe and the capricious; nor do they amuſe themſelves with dreffing of puppets, with fpinning of counters, or ſhaking the cap and bells. They are the 58 WHERE IS THE SORBONNE : the recorders of thofe great actions that illuſtrate humanity; their heroes are taken from all nations where are to be found courage and virtue; that falfe and venal clarion which vauntingly flattered the coloffes of the earth, is totally deftroyed. Poetry has preſerved that veridical trumpet only, which can re- found through a long feries of ages, becaufe it de- clares, ſo to ſay, the judgment of pofterity. Formed by fuch models, our child en acquire just ideas of true greatneſs; and the plow, the fhuttle, and the hammer are become more brilliant objects than the fceptre, the diadem, and the imperial robe." CHAP. XIII. WHERE IS THE SORBONNE? IN what language then difpute the doctors of the Sorbonne? Have they ftill their ludicrous pride, their long gowns, and their furred hoods?" There are now no difputations at the Sorbonne; for ſince. the French language has been every where uſed, that troop of wranglers has difappeared. The roofs, thank heaven, no longer echo to barbarous terms, though ſtill lefs extravagant than the abſurdities they were intended to exprefs. We difcovered that the feats on which theſe whimſical doctors fat, were formed Of a certain wood, whofe baneful quality difordered the beſt formed head, and taught it to fophifticate methodi. WHERE IS THE SORBONNE ? 59. methodically."-O! that I had been born in your age! Thofe miferable manufacturers of fyllogifm were the perfecutors of my younger days. I thought myfelf for a long time deftitute of all ability, becauſe I could not underſtand their arguments. But what have you done with the palace erected by that car- dinal who made wretched verfes with enthuſiaſm, and cut off worthy heads with all the coolness pof- fible?" That large building contains feveral ſpa- cious apartments, where they now purfue a courſe of ſtudies far more uſeful to humanity. They there diffect all forts of dead bodies; fagacious anatomiſts fearch in the receffes of the dead, the means of dimi- niſhing the phyſical evils of the living. Inſtead of analyfing ridiculous propofitions, they endeavour to difcover the fecret origin of thofe maladies that tor- ment us; and the deceafed thus contribute to the good of their pofterity. Such are the doctors now ho- noured, ennobled, and pentioned by the ftate. Surgery is moreover now united with phyfic, and the latter is no longer at variance with itfelf." O happy prodigy! they talk of the animofity of contending beauties, of the jealous fury of poets, and of the rancour of painters; but thofe are tender paí- fions in compariſon of that hatred which in my time. inflamed * O cruel Richlieu, thou rueful author of all our mife- ries, how I hate thee! How doth thy name diſtract my ear! After having dethroned Lewis XIII. it was thou that eſtabliſhed an arbitrary power in France. Since that pe- riod this nation has never performed any great action; and what can be expected from a people of flaves? 60 WHERE IS THE SORBONNE ? inflamed the fons of Efculapius. We have feen more than once, as a certain droll expreffed it, phyfic on the point of calling furgery to its aid. "All is now changed; friends, and not rivals, they now form one body only; they afford each other mutual affiftance, and their operations, thus united, fometimes appear almoſt miraculous. The phyfician does not disdain to practiſe himſelf the ope- rations that he thinks neceffary; when he prefcribes any remedies, he does not leave the care of pre- paring them to a fubaltern, who, by negligence or ignorance might render them mortal; but judges with his own eyes of the quality, the quantity and manner of compounding them; a matter of the greateſt importance, as on that the cure abfolutely depends. The fick man does not now fee by his bed- fide three practitioners who ludicrously contemn each other, difpute, fneer, and watch for fome blunder of their rivals, with which they might divert themſelves at their leiſure. A phyfician is no longer a com- pound of the most oppofite principles; the patient's ſtomach is not now the ſpot where the poiſons of the fouth rencounter thoſe of the north; the beneficent juice of plants, natives of our foil, and adapted to our temperaments, diffipate each noxious humour with- out deſtroying our entrails. "This art is eſteemed above all others; for they have now banished the fyftematic fpirit and that blind rotation of practice, which was as deftructive to mankind as the rapacity of kings and the cruelty of their I WHERE IS THE SORBONNE › 61 their minifters."-I am charmed to hear that mat ters are thus; your phyficians appear to me highly amiable, as they are no longer avaricious and cruel empirics, fometimes addicted to a dangerous rota- tion of practice, and fometimes, by making barba. rous experiments, prolong the fufferings of the fick, whom they at laft affaffinate without remorſe. But, pray, to what floor will they go up?" To every floor where there is any one in want of their affiftance."-That's wonderful: in my time, the moſt eminent anong them would never go higher than the firft floor and as certain fine ladies admit no vifitors that do not wear laced ruffles, fo they would cure no patiënts that did not keep an equipage. "A phyſician among us, who ſhould be guilty of fuch inhumanity, would ſtamp an indelible difgrace on his character. Every one has a right to fend for them; they feek only to reſtore health to the fick; and if he be not able which is rarely the cafe, to offer a fufficient gratuity, the ftate then provides it. Every month a regiſter is made of the fick that die or are cured; the names of the dead are always followed by thoſe of their phyſicians; and each one is to give an account of his preſcriptions, and juſtify his man- ner of treating the fick. This detail is laborious; but the life of a man appears to us of too much im- portance to omit any means of preferving it; and the phyficians themselves are intereſted in obferving this lagacious law. r They have rendered their art more fimple, and diveſted themſelves of many branches of fcience that G are WHERE IS THE SORBONNE ? * bfolutely foreign to the art of healing. You thought unjuſtly, that a phyfician's head ſhould con- tain every ſcience poffible; that he ſhould be a com- plete mafter of anatomy, chemiſtry, botany and the mathematics; and though each of theſe arts require the whole life of a man, yet your phyficians were in no eſteem unleſs they were befides men of taſte, wit, and humour. Ours confine themſelves to a thorough knowledge of diſeaſes, to a critical difcernment of of their feveral divifions, and of the fymptoms that attend them, and more particularly to the diftinguiſh- ing of the temperaments in general, and that of each patient in particular. They ufe fcarce any of thoſe remedies called precious, or of fecret and myfterious compofitions; they find a ſmall number of medicines fufficient; they have diſcovered that nature acts uni- formly in the vegetation of plants and in the nutrition of animals. Behold the gardener, they fay; he is defirous that the fap, that is, the univerfal fpirit, circulate equally in every part of the tree. The diſeaſes of the plant ariſe from the glutinous ſtate of that wonderful fluid. In like manner, all the difor- ders that afflict the human race proceed from the coagulation of the blood and humours; restore them to their natural dilution, and as foon as the circula- tion attains its juft courfe, health begins to be re- ftored *. This being premifed, there is no need of a very extenſive knowledge to attain thefeend s, for they *This is not strictly true; if it were, whenever the fluids were fufficiently diluted, the body would be in health, which, unhappily, is by no means the cafe. HOSPITAL FOR INOCULATION. 63 they preſent themſelves to us. We confider all the odoriferous plants as univerfal remedies, feeing they abound in volatile falts, which are in the higheſt degree proper to dilute the viscous blood. Theſe are the most precious gifts of nature for the prefer- vation of health. We adminifter them to all the fick, and have conftantly found them to effect a cure *.” CHAP. XIV. THE HOSPITAL FOR INOCULATION. PRAY, tell me what building is that I fee, which ftands by itſelf, at a diſtance in the fields ?- "It is the hofpital for inoculation; a practice op- pofed in your days; as were all the good things, that were offered to you. You muſt have been egre- gioufly obftinate, when fuch manifeft 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 defirous of refigning their fcepters into the hands of * Though there is fcarce any diſeaſe that may not be cured by the juice of plants, properly prepared, yet as the moſt efficacious remedies we know are obtained from mi- nerals, it would be as extravagant totally to reject them as to exclude the others. G 2 64 HOSPIPAL FOR INOCULATION. of Pinto, you would never have ventured on that happy diſcovery. Succefs has fairly crowned it, the homely dames were obliged to remain filent, and they who had no diadems were nevertheleſs de- firous of remaining fome tine longer here below. "Sooner or later truth will prevail over the moſt intractable fpirits. We now practiſe inoculation, as they did in your time in China, Turkey and England, We are far from profcribing falutary aids becauſe they are new; we have not, as you had, a rage for difputation, merely for the fake of making a figure in the eye of the public. Thanks to our induſtry, 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 ftudy of thofe wonderful fimples which you trod under foot, has taught us the art of curing the confumption, the phthific, the dropfy, and other diforders, which your remedies, of whofe virtues you had little knowledge, commonly made worfe; the hygiena efpecially is fo clearly inveſtigated, that each one is able to take care of his own health. We do not depend entirely on the phy- fician, how ſkillful foever he may be. We apply ourſelves to the ſtudy of our own temperaments, and not leave it to be gueſſed at by a ſtranger on the firſt fight. Temperance, moreover, that true retorative and confervative elixir, contributes to form bodies healthful and vigorous, and that contain minds pure and ſtrong as their blood. * *The art of Preferving health. CHAP. - [ 65 1 CHAP. XV. THEOLOGY AND JURISPRUDENCE. HAPPY mortals! you have then no theolo- gians among you*? I fee none of thoſe mighty volumes that ſeemed to be the pillars of our libraries, thofe ponderous folios, that none but the printer, I fhould imagine, ever read. Theology, however, is a fublime fcience, and-"As our only contemplation on the Supreme Being is to praiſe and adore him in filence, without difputing on his divine attributes, which are for ever infcrutable, we have determined never more to write on that topic; fo much too fub- lime for our intelligence. It is the foul that commu- nicates with God, and it has no need of foreign aids to raiſe itſelf up to himt. " All * We fhould not here confound the moralifts with the theologians; the former are the benefactors, the latter the opprobrium and ſcourge of mankind¶. + Let us defcend into ourfelves, and afk our own minds, from whence they receive perception and thought they wilk reveal to us their happy dependence; they will atteſt that Supreme intelligence, from which they are nothing more than feeble emanations. When the mind reflects on its own nature, it cannot diveft itfelf of the idea of that God of whom it is the offspring and image; it cannot doubt of its heavenly origin. This is a truthi of perception that has been common to all people. The man of fenfibility will be' G3 ftruck' 66 THEOLOGY AND JURISPRUDENCE. “All the volumes of theology, as well as thofe of jurisprudence, are confined by large bars of iron in the fubteraneous apartments of the library; and if we ſhould have a war with any neighbouring nation, inſtead of attacking them with our cannon, we ſhall fend theſe peftiferous works among them: we pre- ferve theſe volcanoes of inflammable matter merely for the deſtruction of our enemies, which they will certainly effect, by means of their fubtle poiſons, 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 different from yours, which was both Gothic and capricious. You ſtill bore the marks of your ancient fervitude you adopted laws that were made neither for your cuſtoms nor your climate. As almost every indi- vidual became, by degrees, enlightened, they have reformed thofe abufes, that made of the fanctuary of juſtice a den of thieves. We are aftoniſhed how that foul monſter, that deſtroyed the widow and the orphan, could triumph fo long unpunished; nor can we conceive how it was poffible for a pettifogger to pafs the streets of the city without being ftoned by hofe he had brought to defperation. "The ftruck with the profpect of nature, and without difficulty acknowledge a munificent God, who has in ftore for us other bounties. The man void of fenfibility will not join to our praiſes the hymn of his admiration. The heart that never loved was that of the firſt atheiſt. THEOLOGY AND JURISPRUDENCE. Sing "The potent arm which bears the ſword of juſtice 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 periſh by famine and vexation were the firſt to reveal their iniquities, and to arm againſt them. Themis com- manded, and the herd difappeared. Such was the tragical end of thoſe rapacious vermin, who deſtroy- ed whole families by blotting of paper." But in my time they pretended, that without their aid a confiderable part of the citizens would remain idle at the tribunals, and that the courts of juſtice themſelves might poffibly become the theatres of licence and diforder." They were certainly the proprietors of ftamped paper, who talked in that manner. "But how can caufes be decided without the aid of attornies?—“ O, our caufes are decided in the beſt manner imaginable. We have reſerved the order of counſellors, who know the dignity and ex- cellence of their inftitution, and being ftill more dif intereſted, they have become more refpectable. It is they who take upon them to explain clearly and conciſely the cauſe of complaint, and that without vehemence or exaggeration. We do not now fee a pleader, by labouring a tedious infipid brief, though ftuffed with invectives, heat himſelf to a degree that cofts him his life. The bad man can find no advo- cate among theſe defenders of equity; their honour is anfwerable for the cauſe they undertake; they oblige the guilty, by refufing to defend them, to ap- pear 68 THEOLOGY AND JURISPRUDENCE, pear trembling and endeavour to excuſe themfelves before a court where they have no advocate. "Every man now enjoys the primitive right of pleading his own caufe. They never fuffer a procefs to have time fufficient to become perplexed; they are inveſtigated and determined in their origin; the longeſt time 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 ashamed of that difgraceful privilege, by which, at first, they received but trifes, but, at laſt, exacted the moſt enormous fums*; they were fen- fible that they thereby gave examples of rapacity; and that if there be any cafe in which intereft ought not to prevail, it is in that important and awful in- ſtance where man pronounces in the facred name of juftice."I find that you have made amazing altera- tions in our laws." Your laws! Stop there. How could you give that title to an indigefted mafs of contradictory customs, to thofe old frattered papers that contained nothing but ideas without connection and grotefque precedencies? How could you adopt that barbarous mafs, in which their was neither plan, nor validity, nor object; that confifted merely of a difguftful compilation, where genius and perfeverance. were abforbed in a noifome abyfs? There have arifen men *It conſiſted at firſt of ſome boxes of ſweat-meats; but now the boxes must be filled with pieces of gold; fo dainty is the prefent fafte of thofe auguft fenators, and fathers of their country. : THEOLOGY AND JURISPRUDENCE. ون men of ability, of a love for the human race, and of courage fufficient to induce them to undertake an entire reformation, and of that capricious maſs to form a regular and juft body of laws. "Our kings have given all their attention to this immenfe project, in which fo many thouſands were intereſted. It has been acknowledged that legiflation was the firſt of ftudies. The names of Lycurgus, Solon, and thofe who have followed their ſteps, are of all others the most refpectable. The luminous point proceeded from the utmost north; and, as if nature would humble our pride, it was a woman who began that important revolution*. "Juftice has spoken by the voice of nature,fovereign legiflator, mother of virtue, and of all that is good upon the earth; founded on reafon and humanity, her precepts are wife, clear, concife, and few. All general cauſes have been foreſeen and included in the laws. Particular cafes have been derived from them, as the branches that fpring from a fertile trunk; and equity, more fagacious than law itfelf, has applied practical juſtice to every event. "Theſe new laws are above all things thrifty of human blood; the puniſhment is proportioned to the crime; we have difcarded you captious interroga- tories, * They privately burned at Paris an entire impreffion of the code of Catharine II. except a fingle copy, that I by chance, faved from the flames. 1 THEOLOGY AND JURISPRUDENCE. tories, and the tortures of confeffion, worthy of the tribunal of the inquifition; and thoſe horrid puniſh. ments calculated for a nation of cannibals. We do not put a robber to death, becauſe we know that it would be injuftice 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 puniſh him by the lofs of his liberty; blood is rarely fpilt; and whea we are forced to fhed it, as a terror to bad men, it is done with the greateft folemnity. A minifter, for example, who abuſes the confidence of his fovereign, by employing the power with which he is entrusted against the people, can find no pardon. He does not, however, languifh in a dungeon; the puniſh- ment attends the crime; and if a doubt arifes, we chufe rather to fhew him mercy than to run the horrid riſk of keeping an innocent man longer in prifon. "A criminal, when feized, is expofed in fetters, that he may be a public and ſtriking example of the vigilance of juſtice. Over the place of his confine- ment there continually remains a writing which ex- plains the caufe of it. We do not confine men, while A droll picture that of the riſe of a minifter. This is advanced to adminiſtration by means of a polite copy of verfes; that, after having lighted the lamps, is preferred to command a fleet, and imagines that lamps and ſhips are to be trimmed in the fame manner; another, while his father ftill holds the yard, governs the finances, &c. It feems as if there was a determination to put thefe only at the head of affairs who knew nothing of the matter. THEOLOGY AND JURISPRUDENCE. 71 while living, in the darkneſs of the tomb, a fruitless puniſhment, and more horrible than death itſelf! It is in the public eye our priſoners fuffer the fhame of their chaſtiſement. Every citizen knows why this man is condemned to impriſonment, and that to la- bour at the public works. He whom three chaftife- ments does not reform, is marked, not on the ſhoul- 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 fhort all difficulties, and was fo convenient to pride, revenge and perfecution ?--- "If you ask this queſtion ferioufly," replied my guide, in a ſevere tone, monarch, to the nation, and the lettre de cachet* you offer an infult to our and myfelf. The torture are ranked together, and only remain to polute the pages of your hiſtory." CHAP. * A citizen is fuddenly fnatched from his family, from his friends, and fociety; a piece of paper becomes an in- vincible thunder-bolt. An order for baniſhment or impri- fonment is difpatched in the king's name, and proceeds merely from his will and pleafure; it has no other authen- ticity than the fignature of a minifter. Intendants and bishops have in their poffeffion lettres de cachet, and have nothing to do but put in the name of any one they wish to deftroy; the place is left vacant. We have feen the wretched grow old in prifon, forgot by their perfecutors, while the king has never been informed of their crime, of their mifery, or even of their exiſtence. 10 [ 72 ] CHAP. XVI. EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. THE repeated mournful founds of a dread- ful clarion fuddenly ſtruck my ear, and ſeemed to murmur to the air the names of mifery and death; ; the drums of the city guard went flowly round, beat- ing the alarm; and theſe ominous founds, repeated by the mind, filled it with a profound horror. Ifaw the citizens come forth with doleful afpects; each one addreffed his neighbour, and lifting his eyes to heaven, wept, and fhowed all the tokens of the moſt piercing grief. I aſked one of them, why tolled the funeral bells, and what accident had happened? "One that is moft terrible," he replied, with a groan. "Juftice this day is forced to condemn a citizen to loſe his life, of which he has rendered him- felf unworthy, by embruing his murdering hands in his brother's blood. More than thirty years have paffed fince the fun beheld a crime like this. Be- fore the day is finifhed, he muſt expire. O, what tears have I ſhed for the fury that drove him to ſuch a blind vengeance! Have you heard the particulars of It were to be wifhed, that all the parliaments in the king- dom would unite against this monstrous abuſe of power, and one that has no foundation in our laws. This impor- tant cauſe once agitated, would become that of the nation; and defpotifm would be deprived of its moft formidable weapon. 2 ' EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL, 73 of the crime that was committed the night before the laſt? O grief! is it not enough that we have loft One worthy citizen; but muſt another fuffer death ?” -He fighed bitterly." Hear, hear the ftory of that direful event, which has ſpread over us an univerſal lamentation. "One of our fellow-citizens, of a fiery difpofition, from his birth remarkable for paffion, though other- wife a man of merit, was on the point of being mar- ried to a young woman whom he loved to diſtraction. Her temper was as gentle as that of her lover was impetuous; fhe flattered herſelf, however with being able to foften his manners; but the many fallies of wrath that eſcaped him, notwithſtanding all his care to conceal them, made her tremble for the direful confequences that might proceed from a union with a man of his violent temper. Every woman, by our law, is abfolute miftrefs of her perfon; fhe therefore determined, from a fear of being miferable, to marry another, who was of a character more conformable to her own. The torch of thefe nuptials fet fire to the rage of an implacable heart, which in the ten- dereſt 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 ftifling a refentment, than in yielding to the impulfe of paffion, in a man- ner that both our laws and reafon profcribe. The en- raged man, liftening to nothing but jealoufy, rencoun- tered the other, the day before yeſterday, in a private path without the city, and on his refufing again to combat with him, he feized a branch of a tree, and laid ↑ H hina 74 EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. him dead at his feet. After this horrid act, the in- human wretch dared to come amongst us; but his crime was already engraved on his front; we no fooner faw him, than we diſcovered that he was cri- minal, though then ignorant of the nature of his offence. But foon we faw feveral citizens, their cheeks wet with tears, who bore, with folemn ſteps, to the foot of the throne of justice, the bloody corpſe 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 obſerve them*. Thefe laws command us to inform the police of all thoſe infractions that offend againſt the order of fociety; but they intend thoſe matters only that caufe a real detriment. We renew this facred oath every ten years; and without being bufy in- formers, religiouſly watch over the preſervation of our venerable laws. "Yeſterday they published the monitory, which is an act entirely civil. Whoever ſhould delay to declare *It is fcarce to be believed, that the most important of our laws, as well civil as criminal, are unknown to the greatest part of the nation. It would be extremely eaſy to imprint them with a character of majesty; but they are only publiſhed to thunder on the guilty, and not to excite the citizen to virtue. The facred code of the laws is wrote in a dry and barbarous language, and fleeps among the duſt of the rolls. Would it not be proper to clothe it with the charms of eloquence, and by that means render it refpecta- 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 is foen dif- covered. None but a villain, for a long time fami- liarized with guilt, can coolly deny the crime he has juſt committed; and of this fort of monſters our nation is purged; they no longer terrify us, but in the hiftories of paſt ages. "Obey, with me, the voice of juftice, that calls all the people to be witneſs of its awful decrees. It is the day of its triumph; and, fatal as it is, we re- ceive it with applauſe. You will not fee a wretch who has been plunged for fix months in a dungeon, his eyes dazzled by the light of the fun, his bones bro- ken by a previous and fecret puniſhment more horri- ble than that he is going to fuffer*, advance with. hideous and dying looks, towards a fcaffold erected in an obfcure nook. In your time, the criminal, judged in the fecrecy of a priſon, was fometimes broke on the wheel in the filence of the night, at the door of ſome fleeping citizen; who waking with terror at the cries of * Wretched is the ftate that refines on its penal laws. Is not the puniſhment of death fufficient; but muſt man add to its horror? Can he be called a magiſtrate who in- terrogates with torturing machines, and gradually cruſhes a wretch by a flow progreffion of the most horrid pangs? who, ingenious in his tortures, tops death, when, gentle, and charitable, it advances to deliver the victim? 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 Punishments. I defy any man to produce one folid reafon in favour of that barbarous law. H 2 78 EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. of the excruciated wretch, was uncertain whether he was fuffering under the iron bar of an executioner, or the fword of an affaffin. We have none of thoſe tor- tures that are ſhocking to nature; we have a regard to humanity even with them who have offended against it. In your age, they ſeemed not to be content with mere- ly putting a man to death, fo little effect the tragic fcenes had upon you, all horrible as they were, and multiplied in cold blood. The guilty, far from being dragged along in a manner that is difgraceful to juf tice, is not even fettered. Alas! why fhould he be loaded with chains, when he freely delivers himſelf up to death? Juftice has full power to condemn him to death, but not to charge him with marks of flavery. You will fee him walk freely in the midſt of ſome fol- diers, who ſurround him merely to keep off the multi- tude. We have no fear that he will a fecond time dif grace himself by endeavouring to fly from the terrible voice that accufes him. Whither fhould he fly? What country, what people would receive among them an affaffin*? and how could he ever efface that hor- . rid mark which the hand of the Divinity imprints on the front of a murderer; the tempeft of remorfe is there painted in glaring characters; and the eye accuſtomed * 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, Lisbon, Vienna, &c. and there peaceably enjoy the fruits of his iniquity. Among fo many puerile treaties, can they not ftipulate, that the mur- derer ſhall no where find an afylum? Is not every ſtate and every man intereſted in his punishment? But monarchs will as foon agree on the deftruction of the Jefuits. EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. 77 accuſtomed to the aſpect of virtue will eafily dif tinguiſh the phyfiognomy of guilt. How, in fhort, can he ever be free who feels the immenfe weight that preſſes upon his heart?" We arrived at a ſpacious place that furrounded the palace of juſtice. Along the front of the hall of au- dience there ran a large flight of ſteps. It was on this kind of amphitheatre that the fenate affembled on public affairs, in the fight of the people; it was under their inſpection that it choſe to tranfact the moſt important affairs of the nation; the numerous body of citizens there affembled infpired them with fenti- ments worthy of the auguſt concerns committed to their care. The death of a citizen was a calamity to the ftate. The judges failed not to give their ſentence all that folemnity, all that importance it deferved. The order of advocates were on one fide, conftantly ready to plead for the innocent, but filent in the cauſe of the guilty. On the other fide, the prelate, ac- companied by the paftors, bare-headed, filently in- voked the God of Mercy, and edified the people, fpread in crowds over all the place*. The Our form of juftice does not command awe, but excites difguft. It is an odious and fhocking fight to fee a man take off his laced hat, lay down his fword on the ſcaffold, mount the ladder in a fuit of filk or lace, and dance inde- cently on the body of the wretch that is hanging. Why not give the executioner that formidable afpect he ought to fhew? To what purpofe is this cold barbarity? The laws thereby loſe their dignity, and the puniſhment its terror. H 3 · The. 78 EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. The criminal appeared; he was dreffed in a bloody fhirt; he beat his breaſt, and fhewed all the marks of a fincere repentance. His vifage, however, ex- preffed nothing of that dreadful embarraſſment ſo un- becoming man. The judge is ftill more fprucely powdered than the hang- Shall I here declare the fenfations that I have felt? I have trembled, not for the criminal'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 finner to the Supreme Being, who affiſted him in drinking the cup of death, that appeared to me to have any remains of humanity. Do we only wish to deſtroy man- kind? Are we ignorant of the art of terrifying the imagination without violence to humanity? Learn at length, thoughtleſs and cruel men, learn to be judges, learn how to prevent crimes; conciliate what is owing to the law with what is owing to man. I have not the power to fpeak here of thoſe artful tortures that fome criminals have fuffered, who feem to have been referved, fo to fay, for a privileged puniſhment. O difgrace to my country! the eyes of that ſex which feems made for pity remained the longeſt fixed on that fcene of horrors. Let us draw the curtain. What can I ſay to thoſe who un- derſtand me not? The author here evidently refers to what is improperly called the breaking on the wheel; for the criminal is ftretched naked, except a cloth that goes round his waift, upon two planks, in the form of what is called St. Andrew's croſs; and then the executioner with an iron bar, breaks all the bones of his armas, his legs, and thighs. A cruel puniſhment, the reader will fay; but it is trifling to what he has to fuffer; for he is then laid, with his face upward, on a fmall wheel, about às wide as the length of his body only, and is truffed up like a fowl for the fpit; his broken legs and thighs are brought back EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. י, 79 becoming a man, who ought to know how to die when neceffity calls, and eſpecially when he merits death. They made him paſs by a fort of cage, where, they told me, the body of the murdered man was expofed. On his near approach, he was ſeized with fuch violent remorſe, that they ſuffered 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 binds a bale of goods that is to go a long voyage, till the ropes cut into he flesh, and thus left, with his head hanging backwards off the wheel, to expire by agonies; while the gay, polite Parifians throng from every quarter to behold a fight that is a difgrace to their capital, to their country, and to mankind; and while the fofter fex, as the author fays, gaze from the windows with infatiable curiofity. This punishment fhews how ftrong the powers of life are in fome men; what tor- tures human nature is capable of ſuſtaining One would imagine that a man could live hut a very ſhort time in ſuch a ſituation but the wretch I faw, who was young, and of a vigorous conſtitution, was placed on the wheel about fix in the even- ing; at four the next morning he complained of thirſt, and drink was given him; about an hour after he expired. ་ ; On revifing this note, it occurred to me that the hard bind- ing with ropes may be humanely intended to fhorten the cri- minal's tortures by stopping the circulation; fo when the ex- ecutioner jumps on the ſhoulders of the man that is hanging be certainly intends, and does, in many inftances, fhorten his fufferings Doubtless too, a great part of the fpectators are carried to thefe executions by a defire to fympathiſe in the criminal's fufferings; as, when a fhip is in diſtreſs, the fond mother flies to the fea fhore, and while fhe ftrains her infant to her breaſt, commiferates their calamity, though utterly unable to relieve them. 80 EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. was then opened to him, and they read, with a loud. voice, the fentence relative to homicides; they placed the book before him, that he might read it; he then fell on his knees, and confeffed his guilt. The head of the fenate, mounting a platform that was prepared for him, read his condemnation with a ſtrong and majeſtic voice. All the counſellors, as well as the advocates, who were ſtanding, 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 ſtretch out his hand to the criminal, and raiſe him up; he then faid, "nothing now re- mains for you but to die with firmnefs, 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 deteftation by u15. Obey the law with cheerfulneſs, and revere its falutary rigour. Our tears bear witneſs that affection will take place in our hearts, when juſtice ſhall have accompliſhed her fatal decrees. Death is lefs dreadful than ignominy. Submit to the one, to avoid the other. It is ftill in your power to chooſe. If you will live, you may; but it muſt be in difgrace, and loaded with our indig- nation. You will behold the fun conftantly 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 thoſe difdainful looks with which all men regard an affaffin. You will bear about with you every where the load of your re- morfe, and the eternal ſhame of having refuſed to fubmit EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. 8 r fubmit to that juft law which has condemned you. Do juftice to fociety and condemn yourſelf *. The criminal bowed his head; by which he de- clared that he judged himſelf deferving of death†. He immediately prepared to fubmit with conftancy and with that refignation which, in our laſt moments, is fo highly becoming of humanity. He was no longer regarded as guilty; the body of paftors fur- rounded him; the prelate taking off the bloody fhirt, clothed him in a white veftment, which was the token of his reconciliation with mankind, and gave him * They who are inveſted 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 fhould therefore treat them as beings, who, by fome uns known cauſe, have been led out of the right path. Even when the judge pronounces condemnation with majefty, he fhould fecretly lament that he cannot fcreen the criminal from puniſhment. To terrify vice by the moſt awful ap- paratus of juſtice, and privately to reclaim the guilty, ſhould be the two grand points of criminal jurifprudence. + Propitious confcience, thou equitable and ready judge, be never abſent from me! Tell me conftantly that I cannot do the leaſt injury to another without receiving the coun- ter-ftroke; that I muft neceffarily wound myfelf, when I wound another. Agefilaus feeing a malefactor endure puniſhment with unconcern, "O wicked man," he faid, "to make ſo bad a uſe of fortitude.' * 82 EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. him the kifs of peace. His friends and relations crowded to embrace him; he appeared fatisfied by receiving their careffes, and by being vefted with that garment which was a proof of the pardon he received from his country. Thofe teftimonies of friendſhip took from him the horrors of approaching death. The prelate, advancing towards the people, feized that moment to make a nervous and pathethic difcourfe on the danger of paffion; it was fo elo- quent, fo juft and affecting, that every heart was filled with admiration and terror. Each one refolved to watch carefully over his temper and to stifle thoſe feeds of refentment, which increaſe in a manner un- known to ourſelves, and foon produce the moſt un- bridled paffions. During this interval, a deputy from the fenate bore the ſentence of death to the monarch, that he might fign it with his own hand; for no one could be put to death without his confent, as in him refided the power of the ſword. That good father would gladly have ſpared the life of the criminal*; but, in that moment he facrificed the earneſt defire of his heart to the neceffity of an exemplary juſtice. The deputy returned. Then again the bells of the city began their funeral tolls, the drums repeated their * I am forry that our kings have renounced that ancient and wiſe cuſtom.. When they ſign ſo many papers why ſhould they neglect one of the most auguſt privileges of their crown? } EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. 83 their mournful march, and thofe deploring 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 deftruction. The friends and relations of the unfortunate man going to meet his death, gave him the laft embrace; the prelate invoked with a loud voice, the forgiveneſs of the Supreme Being, and the vaulted roof of heaven refounded with the fupplications of the whole people, who cried, with one mighty voice, "O Almighty God, receive his foul! O God of Mercy, forgive him, even as we forgive him!" They conducted him, with flow fteps, to the cage I have mentioned, ftill furrounded by his friends. Six fufileers, their faces covered with crape, advanced; the head of the fenate gave the ſignal, by holding up the book of the law; they fired and the foul dif- appeared. They took up the dead body. His crime being fully expiated by his puniſhment, he was again received into the clafs of citizens; his name, that had been effaced, was infcribed again in the public regiſter, with the names of thoſe who had died the fame day. This people had not the cruelty to purſue the memory of a man even to his tomb; and to reflect on a whole innocent family the crime of an individual; I have frequently heard it debated, whether the per- ſon of an executioner be infamous. I have always been concerned when they have given it in his favour, and could never have a refpećt for thoſe who ranked him with the clafs of other citizens. I may be wrong, but fuch is may ⚫pinion. 84 EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. individual*; they did not find pleaſure in diſhonour- ing, without a cauſe, uſeful citizens, and make men miferable, for the fatisfaction 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 arofe from the lofs of a friend. The fame evening, a place of truſt and honour becoming vacant, the king conferred it on the brother of the criminal; and every one applauded a choice that was dictated by equity and beneficence. "" With a heart full of tenderneſs and commiferation, Ifaid, O, how is humanity reſpected among you! The death of a citizen is the cauſe of univerſal mourn- ing to his country." It is becauſe our laws," they replied, are wife and humane; they are calculated more for reformation than for chaſtiſement; the way to intimidate vice is not to render puniſhment com- mon, but formidable; it is our study to prevent crimes; we fend the refractory to places of folitude, where they are attended by thoſe who endeavour to bring them to repentance, who operate by degrees on their hardened hearts, and gradually difplay the refined charms of virtue, to whofe attractions the moft depraved of mortals are not infenfible. Does the phyfician at the first attack of a violent fever abandon * Bafe and deſpicablé prejudice, that confounds all no- tions of juſtice, is contrary to reaſon, and only calculated for a weak or wicked people. EXECUTION OF A CRIMINAL. 85 abandon his patient? Why, therefore, fhould we de- fert the guilty who may yet be recovered? There are few hearts fo corrupted, as not to be reftored by perfeverance; and a little blood properly poured forth, cements our tranquility and cur happinefs. "Your penal laws were all made in favour of the rich; all fell on the head of the poor; gold was be- come the god of nations; edicts and gibbets furround- ed all poffeffions; and tyranny, with fword in hand, bartered the days, the fweat and blood of the unfor. tunate; it made no diftinction in chaftifements, and thereby taught the people to make none in crimes; it puniſhed the leaft offence as the most infamous villainy. What was the confequence? The multi- plying of laws multiplied crimes, and the offenders became as inhuman as their judges. Legiflation, when it attempted to unite the members of fociety, drew the bands fo tight as to throw it into convul- ſions; and, inſtead of maintaining, deſtroyed the connections; mournful humanity fent forth the cry of grief, and faw too late, that the tortures of the executioner never infpire virtue * CHAP. * When we examine the validity of that right which human ſocieties have affumed of puniſhing with death, we are terrified at the imperceptible point which ſeparates equity from injuftice. It is to little purpofe here that we accumulate arguments; all our lights ferve but to lead us aſtray; we muſt return to the law of nature only, which has far more regard than our inftitutions, for the life of a man; I that [ 86 ] CHAP. XVII, NOT SO FAR OFF AS WE THOUGHT. WE converfed a long time on this important fubject; but as we became earnestly engaged, and our debate wanted that ferenity which is fo neceffary in an inquiry after truth, I thus bluntly interrupted my that teaches us, that the law of retaliation is, of all others, the moſt conformable to right reafon. Ameng rifing go- vernments, which have yet the fignature of nature, there is fcarce any crime puniſhed with death In the cafe of murder there is no doubt; for nature tells us that we ſhould arm ourſelves againſt affaffins ; but in case of robbery, the inhumanity of inflicting death is notorious; it is a puniſh- ment that bears no proportion to the crime; and the voice of millions of men, worshippers of gold, can never make that authentic, which is in its nature invalid. It will be faid, "The robber made a contract with me to be puniſhed with death if he invaded my property;" but no man has a right to make fuch a contract as it is unjuft, barbarous, and fenſeleſs; unjuſt, as his life is not his own; barbarous, as no proportion is obferved; and fenfelefs, as it is incompa- rably more eligible that two men live, than that one of thern fhould enjoy fome exclufive or fuperfluous property. This note, fays the author, is taken from a good novel, intitled The Vicar of Wakefield. Notwithstanding what is here faid, this pofition certainly. admits of doubt, at leaft. The ends of punishment are three; to redress the injured, to reform the offender, and to deter others, NOT SO FAR OFF AS WE THOUGHT. 87 * my learned companion: Tell me, I beseech you, what is become of the Molinifts and Janfenifts? He anſwered me with a loud burft of laughter; I could get nothing else from him. But, pray, anfwer me, I faid; here food the Capuchins, there the Cordeliers, a little farther on the Carmelites. What is become of thoſe frocked gentry, with their fandals, their beards, and their difciplines? A "We no longer fatten, in our ftate," he replied, "a fet of automatons, as troublefome to themfelves as to others, who make a foolish vow never to be men, and had no connection with thofe that are. We thought them, however, more worthy of pity than reproach. Engaged from the most tender age; in à ſtate of which they were ignorant, it was the laws that were culpable, in permitting them blindly to proflitute that liberty of which they knew not the value. Thofe réclule beings, whofe manfions of retreat were erected with pomp in the midst of a tu- multuous city, perceived, and gave themselves 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 parti- ( cipate others. Now, neither the murdered, nor his reprefentative, can receive any redrefs from the death of the offender; and with regard to the other two ends, I think it will appear, upon a cloſe inſpection, that there are many continued puniſhments, ´´ without having recourfe to barbarities, that would be far more efficacious We cannot be too cautious in dépriving our fellow-. creatures, of that which God alous can give, and which, it feems to me, he alone has the right to take away. 1 2 88 NOT SO FAR OFF AS WE THOUGHT. cipate of that happiness. They fighed in fecret over that fatal moment, when they abjured a life of all others the most pleafing, and curfed each other like galley-flaves at the oar*; while they longed for the hour that should open their prifon doors. It was not far diftant; the yoke was thrown off without danger or difficulty; for the hour was then come: juft as we fee the ripe fruit fall from the branch by the leaft touch. Iffuing forth in crowds, with the higheſt demonftrations of joy, they became, all flaves as they had been, inſtantly men. "Thofe robuft monks, in whom feemed to be revived the vigour of the prifline ages of the world, their * All thofe religious houſes, where men are crowded to- gether, teem with inteftine wars; they are ferpents that prey upon each other in obfcurity. A monk is a cold and mo- roſe animal; the ambition of advancing himſelf in his corps makes him felfish; he has leiſure ſufficient to reflect on his plan, and his concentered ambition has a gloomy turn; when he once gets the command, he is by nature rough and inexorable. In matters of public adminiftration, there fhould be no violent ſhock; nothing is more dangerous. Reaſon and time produce the greatest events, and fix on them an inde- lible ſtamp. Luther, thundering with his fiery eloquence againſt the monaftie vows, afferts, that it was as impoffible to keep that of continence as to change our ſex¶. There are how- ¶ Luther, it is like, judged from himſelf. ever, great numbers of men, who, from an ill-natured conſtitu- tion, are under no fort of temptation to break the vow of con tinence from women. NOT SO FAR OFF AS WE THOUGHT. 89 their fronts glowing with love and joy, efpoufed thofe panting doves, thofe fanctified virgins, who, under the monaftic veil, had more than once fighed for a ftate lefs holy and more pleafing*; they performed · the devoirs of Hymen with an edifying fervour, and fo 1) the 1 * What a cruel fuperftition, to confine in a facred prifon ſo many young beauties, who conceal all the fires permitted to their fex, which an eternal confinement redoubles, and even to the producing thofe conflicts they have with each other. To have a juft fenfation of all the miſeries of a heart that devours itſelf, we ſhould be in its place. Timid, credulous, abuſed, intoxicated by a pompous enthuſiaſin, a girl believes for a long time, that God and religion abforb all her thoughts; in the midst of the tranfports of her zeal, nature awakens in her heart that invincible, and to her unknown, power, and makes her fubmit to its imperious yoke. Theſe fires, once lighted up, make havock among her fenfes; fhe burns in the calm of her retreat; he com- bats, but her conftancy is overcome; the blushes and de. fires; the looks round her, and finds herself furrounded with infurmountable barriers, while all her being is carried with violence toward an ideal object, that her heated ima- gination has adorned with fresh charms. From that moment, adieu repofe. She was born for a happy fertility; an eternal chain confines her, and condemns her to fterility and mifery. She then difcovers, that the law has deceived her; << As this paffage may appear obfcure, and as I know not well how to make it more explicit, I fhall here give the words of the original. Quelle cruelle fuperftition enchaine dans une prifon facree tant des jeune beautés, qui recelent tous les feux permis a leu fexe, que redouble encore une clôiture eter- nelle, et jufqu'aux combats qu'elles fe livrent," → I 3 90 NOT SO FAR OFF AS WE THOUGHT. produced an offspring worthy of ſo fair a lineage; their happy and rofy huſbands were no longer folici- tous for the canonization of fome rotten bones; they contented themſelves with being good fathers and good citizens; and, I firmly believe, are as likely to go to heaven after death, as if they had made a pur- gatory of the prefent life. "" "It is true, that, at the time it happened, this re- formation appeared to the biſhop of Rome fomething extraordinary; but he foon had ferious affairs of his own to manage.' Who do you call the bishop 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- nefices, and bishoprics of an immenfe revenue; we do not go to kifs the flipper of the fucceffor of an apoftle, her; that the yoke which deſtroys liberty is not the yoke of God? and that the religion, to which fhe is irrevocably bound, is the enemy of nature and of reafon. But to what purpoſe are her forrows and complaints? Her tears and her fighs are loft in the filence of the night; the burning poiſon that ferments in her veins deftroys her beauty, corrupts her blood, and leads her, with precipitate fleps, to the grave; glad thither to defcend, the opens herſelf the tomb, where all her griefs are loft in peaceful Numbers. * I cannot fee without horror, ecclefiaftic princes, fur- rounded by all the pomp of luxury, fiile difdainfully at public miſeries, and prefume to talk of morals and religion in their dull mandates, wrote by fome curate's journey- man, and which infult common fenfe with fcandalous ef- frontery. NOT SO FAR OFF AS WE THOUGHT * apoſtle, to whom his maſter gave no other examples than thoſe of humility; and as that apoſtle recom- mended poverty, as well by his example as his pre- cept, we no longer fend our pure gold fo neceſſary to the ſtate, to purchaſe indulgences, of which that good magician was very liberal. All theſe matters gave him at firſt ſome 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 vanities, as are all things beneath the fun. "Time, whofe invifible and filent hand under- mines the loftieft towers, has laid that fuperb and in- credible monument of human credulity in the duſt*; it fell without tumult; its ftrength was in opinion; opinion changed, and all exhaled in fmicke. So we fometimes behold nothing but a tranfient vapeur, where late was feen a tremendous conflagration. "A prince worthy to govern, rules over that part of Italy, and that ancient Rome has again beheld her Cæfars: by that word I refer to Titus and Marcus Aurelius, not to thofe monsters who bore a human face. That fine country is reanimated fince it has been cleanſed from thoſe lazy vermin that throve in filth. * The mufti, among the Turks, extends his infallibility even to hiftoric facts He thought proper, in the reign of Amurat, to declare all thofe heretics who did not believe that the fultan went into Hungary. } 02 THE MINISTERS OF PEACE. } filth. That kingdom now holds its proper rank, bears a lively and expreffive aſpect, after having been wrapped up, for more than feventeen centu- ries, in ridiculous and fuperftitious rags, which ftop- ped its breath, and deprived it of all power of utterance." CHAP. XVIII. THE MINISTERS OF PEACE. PROCEED, thou charming inftructor! This revolution, you ſay, was made in the moſt peaceful and happy manner. "It was the work of philofo- phy; it acted without noife, and, like nature, with a force the more certain, as it was infenfible.”—But I have many difficulties to propofe; there must be a reli- gion." "Without doubt," he replied with warmth. "Alas! where is the man fo ungrateful as to remain dumb in the midſt of the miracles of creation, under this brilliant firmament of heaven? We adore the Supreme Being; but the worship we render him caufes no diforder nor debate; we have but few mi- niſters, and they are wife, experienced, and friends to toleration; they are free from the ſpirit of faction, and therefore more beloved and refpected; they are only folicitous to lift up pure hands toward the throne of the Father of mankind; they are be neficent to all, in imitation of God, abundant in goodness; the ſpirit of peace and concord animates their THE MINISTERS OF PEACE. 93 their actions as well as their precepts; they are there- fore univerſally beloved. We have, moreover, a holy prelate, who lives with his paftors, as with his bre- thren, and his equals. Thefe functions are not aſ- fumed by any, till they are forty years of age; for not till then are the turbulent paffions at reft; and reafon, fo flow in man, exerts its peaceful empire. Their exemplary life diſplays the highest degree of human virtue; it is they that comfort the afflicted; that point out to the unhappy a merciful God, who watches over them, and will one day recompence their fufferings. They fearch out poverty when con- cealed under the cloak of fhame, and adminiſter re- lief without compelling it to bluſh; they reconcile adverfe tempers by the words of gentleneſs and peace; the most inveterate enemies embrace in their pre- fence, and all the ulcers of their hearts become in- ftantly healed. In a word, they fulfil all the duties of men who prefume to ſpeak in the name of an Eternal Mafter." I am highly pleafed to hear of minifters like thofe, I replied; but have you a fet of men peculiarly confecrated to repeat at all hours of the day, with a nalal twang, canticles, pfalms, and hymns? Does any one among you aſpire to canonization? How do you celebrate that rite? Who are your faints ?— "Our faint! You doubtlefs mean thofe who pur- fue the highest degree of perfection, who are elevated above human weakness. Yes; we have men of that celeſtial temper; but you will cafily believe that they do not lead an obfcure and folitary life; that they do not 94 THE MINISTERS OF PEACE not make a merit of fafting, of chanting bad. Latin, or of remaining dumb and flupid all their days; it is in the fight of the world that they difplay the forti- tude, the conftancy of their fouls; they charge them- felves, by choice, with the most painful labours, and fuch as are difguftful to other men; they think that good and charitable works are to the Deity more grateful than prayer alone. If men, for example, are wanting to clean the ftreets, or repair the highways, they readily offer themſelves; they undertake the most dangerous as well as the meanest employments, as to carry water through the flames to extinguiſh a fire, and walk over the burning planks; or to plunge into a river, to fave the life of a man ready to perish, &c. Thefe generous victims to the public good are filled, ani. mated by an active ſpirit, by the grand and fublime idea of being uſeful members of ſociety, and of alle- viating the miſeries of others. They make a duty of thefe occupations with as much pleaſure as if they were perfectly eaſy and engaging; their actions are altogether directed by humanity and the love of their country, and never by ſelf-intereſt. Some conftantly attend the bed of the fick, and adminifter relief; while others defcend into the mines, and perform all the laborious offices of thofe regions, fo that you would take them to be flaves bowing under the iron yoke of fome tyrant; but the deſign of their benefi- cent fouls is to pleaſe the Eterual by ferving their brethren. Infenfible to prefent miferies, they look forward to that reward which God has in ftore for them, THE MINISTERS OF PEACE. 95 them, as they do not facrifice the pleaſures of this world to a capricious bigotry, but to a real utility. "It is needlefs to tell you that we refpeat them. during their lives and after deaths; and as our moit lively acknowledgments would be infufficient, we leave it to the Author of all good to diſcharge, that immenſe debt, being perfuaded that he alone knows the juſt meaſure of merited rewards. "Such are the faints that we venerate, without fuppofing any thing more than that they have ex- tended human nature, of which they are the glory, to its higheſt perfection: they perform no other mi- racles than thoſe I have mentioned. The martyrs to Chriſtianity had certainly their merit; it was doubt- lefs very commendable to brave the tyrants of the mind; to fuffer the most horrible deaths, rather than facrifice thofe fentiments that the head and the heart had adopted. But how much more true greatneſs is there in rendering ourfelves the perpetual bene- factors to afflicted humanity, to dry up every tear, and ſtop or prevent the effufion of a fingle drop of blood * " "Thefe * A counſellor of parliament, in the last century, gave all his fortune to the poor, and then went about begging for them. He met a farmer-general in the ſtreet; he at- tacked and followed him, faying, "Give me fomething for my poor people, fomething for my poor people." The tax gatherer refuſed, and replied in the ufual tone, "I have nothing for them; Sir, I have nothing for them." The counfellor 96 THE MINISTERS OF PEACE. "Thefe wonderful men do not offer their manner of living as a model to others; they do not glory in their heroifin; they do not debafe themſelves to be exalted by the public; and leaft of all do they rail at the defects of their neighbours, but are much more folicitous to procure them happy lives by their innumerable labours. When one of thefe exalted fouls rejoins that All-perfect Being, from whom it is an cnia- nation, we do not encloſe the corpfe in a metal fill more worthlefs; we write the hiſtory of his life, and endeavour to imitate it at leaft in fome degree."- The farther I advance, the more unexpected altera- tions I perceive." You will yet fee many others. If a great number of pens did not atteft the fame mat- ters, we fhould certainly call in doubt the hiftory of your age. Was it poffible? Could the fervants of the altar be riotous, caballers, perfecutors? Could a fet of miferable reptiles hate and perfecute each other during the fhort ſpace of their lives, becauſe they chanced to think differently, on certain vain fub- tilties, or matters that are by their nature incompre- henfible? Thofe weak wretches, it feems, had the audacity to found the defigus of the Almighty, and to make them quadrate with their ignorance, their pride, and their folly. "I have Counſellor would not quit him; he argued and entreated; he followed him quite to his hotel, and up to his apart- ment, continually interceding for his poor people. The brutal hoarder of millions, at laft enraged, gave him a blow on the ear. "Very well," faid the counſellor, “that is fomething for me and my poor people." I ' THE TEMPLE. 97 "I have read, that they who had the leaſt charity, and confequently the leaft religion, were they that preached to others; that the number of thoſe who bore that lucrative habit, the pledge of a continued idleneſs, was become incredible; and, to conclude, that they lived in an infamous celibacy *. They fay, moreover, that your churches reſembled the public market-place; that they were equally offenfive to the fight and the ſmell; and that your ceremonies were calculated rather to diſtract the mind, than to elevate it to God-But I hear the facred trump, whofe pleaſing founds 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 tifing fun. CHAP. XIX. THE TEMPLE. WE turned the corner of a treet, and I perceived in the midſt of a ſpacious place a circular temple crowned with a magnificent dome. This edi- fice, fupported by a fingle range of columns, had four grand portals; on the front of each was written, The Temple of God. Time had already imprinted a venerable What a leprofy in a ſtate is a numerous clergy, that make a public profeffion to know no wives but thoſe of other men ! K 98 THE TEMPLE. venerable complexion on its walls, from which it received an additional majefty. When I arrived at the door of this temple, what was my furpriſe, to read the four following lines in large characters. Loin de rein decider fur cet Etre Supréme Gardons, en l'adorant, un filence profond; Sa nature eft immenſe et l'esprit s'y confond; Pour favoir ce qu'il eft, il faut etre lui-même. In awful filence let us God adore, "Nor ever dare his nature to explore; To fearch thoſe boundleſs powers, by man were vain, Which nought but boundleſs wiſdom can explain. O, by the way, I faid in a low voice, you cannot affert that this is of your age." It is no commen- dation to yours," he replied, " for your theologians fhould have stopped there." This reply, which feems to have proceeded from the Divinity itfelf, has lain confounded among verfes, of which very little ac- count was made: I know, not, however, if there be any more excellent, for the fenfe they contain; and, I think, they are here very properly applied. We followed the people, who, with thoughtful looks, and tranquil, modeſt ſteps, advanced toward the interior part of the temple. They all took their feats, in turn, on rows of ſtools; the men feparate from the women. The altar was in the centre; it was totally unadorned, and each one could diftin- guifh the priest who burned the incenfe. At the moment he pronounced the facred hymns, the choir of THE TEMPLE. 99 of affiftants alternately elevated their voice; their fweet and gentle founds expreffed the awful fenti- ments of their hearts; they ſeemed filled with the Divine Majefty. There were no paintings, no fta- tues, no allegorical figures to be feen*; the facred name of God, a thouſand 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 rigoroufly baniſhed; in a word, God alone poffeffed his temple. When I lifted my eyes to the fummit of this tem- ple, I faw the face of heaven; for the dome was not covered with ftone, but the cleareſt glafs. Some- times a ferene and lucid fky announced the compla. 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 offended; and the calm that fucceeded to the flashing lightnings declared, that contrition unarms his avenging hand; but when the breath of ſpring poured down its balmy ſtreams, then every heart was impreffed with that falutary and comfortable truth, that the treafures of the divine clemency are inexhaustible. Thus the feafons and the elements, whofe voice is fo eloquent to thoſe who can comprehend it, ſpoke to this difcerning people, and K 2 * The Proteftants are in the right; all thofe works of men diſpoſe the people to idolatry. To exprefs an inviſible and prefent Deity, the temple fhould contain him alone. 100 THE TEMPLE. • and difplayed to them the Author of the univerfe under all his various relations * There were here no difcordant founds; even the voice of the infant was taught to join the majeſtic choir; there was no profane or frifky mufic; the organ alone, which was far from being clamorous, was accompanied by the voice of the numerous peo- ple, and feemed the fong of immortals, who joined thefe public orifons; no one entered or went out du- ring the time of prayer; no burly Swifs, no trouble- fome beggar, interrupted the adoration of the faith- ful fupplicants; the whole people were ſtruck with a religious and profound awe; many lay proftrate, their faces againſt the earth. In the midst of this univerfal filent meditation, I was feized with a facred terror; it feemed as if the Divinity had defcended into the temple and filled it with his invifible prefence. There were boxes to receive alms; but they were placed in obfcure nooks. This people could perform acts of charity without oftentation. During the time of adoration, the filence was fo religioufly obferved, that the fanctity of the place, joined to the idea of the Supreme Being, pierced every heart with a pro- found and affecting impreffion. The * A favage wandering through the woods, contemplating heaven and earth, and diſcovering, ſo to ſay, the only Maſ- ter that he knows, comes nearer to the true religion than the Carthufian, buried in his cell, and converfing with none but the phantoms of a heated imagination. THE TEMPLE. 101 The exhortation of the paſtor to his flock was fimple, natural, and eloquent; but more from the matter than the ftyle. He talked of God only to make him beloved by men, and to recommend hu- manity, gentleneſs, and patience; he did not endea- vour to diſplay his wit, when it was his buſineſs to affect the heart; it was a father that converfed with his children on thoſe matters that were moſt eligible for them to purſue. Theſe precepts had the greater effect, as they proceeded from the mouth of a man whofe character was perfectly amiable. I could never have been tired; for this difcourfe confifted not of pompous declamation, or vague characters, or far-fetched figures, and ſtill lefs of fcraps of poetry mixed with the profe, by which it commonly be- comes yet more infipid*. "It is thus,” ſaid my guide," that every morn- ing we make a public prayer; it laſts an hour, and the reſt of the day the doors remain fhut. We have fcarce any religious feafts; but we have thofe that are civil, which relax the people without making them * What, in our preachers, gives me the greateſt diſguſt, is, that they have no fixed 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 enthuſiaſts. They offer nothing but words; and it is of little concern to thein whether they con- tradict themſelves or not, provided they make out their three points. I have heard one of them pillage-the Ency clopedia, and declaim againſt the encyclopediaſts., K3 102 THE TEMPLE. them licentious. On no day fhould man remain idle; by the example of nature, which never quits its operations, he ought never to reproach himfelf with having been quite inactive. Repofe, however, is not idleneſs. Total inaction is a real damage to our country; and ceffation from labour is in fact a dimi- nutive of death. The time determined for prayer is fufficient to elevate the mind to God; long offices produce inattention and difguft; and all private prayers have lefs merit than thofe that excite the public devotion. "Let me recite to you the form of prayer uſed among us. Every one repeats it, and meditates on every fentiment it contains. "Thou one, uncreated Being! the wife Creator of this vaft univerfe! fince thy goodneſs hath preſented it as a spectacle to man, fince fo weak a creature hath received from thee the precious gift of reflecting on this great and beautiful work, fuffer 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 works; we blefs thy fovereign hand; we adore thee as our Judge; but we love thee as the univerfal Father of beings. Yes, thy goodness is equal to thy power; all things declare it; but, above all, our own hearts. If fome tranfient evils here afflict us, is is, doubtless, becauſe they are inevitable; more- over, it is thy pleaſure, and that is to us fufficient; We THE TEMPLE. 103 we fubmit with confidence, and rely on thy infinite goodneſs, far from complaining, we offer up our thanks for thy having created us to know thee. << 'May every one adore thee after his own manner, according to the moſt affectionate, and moſt animated dictates of his heart. We do not wiſh to ſet bounds to his zeal. Thou haft deigned to ſpeak to us by the voice of nature only; all our devotion is confined to the adoring of thee, in bleffing thy name, in cry- ing toward thy throne, that we are weak, miferable, limited creatures, and have for ever need of thy fup- porting arm. "If we deceive ourſelves, if any other worſhip, ancient or modern, is more pleafing in thy fight than ours, O vouchſafe to open our eyes, and diſſipate the clouds that hang over our minds; we will faithfully obey thy precepts. But if thou art fatisfied with this feeble homage, which we know to be due to thy power, and to thy truly paternal tenderneſs; give us the conftancy to perſevere in theſe ſentiments of ado. ration with which we are inflamed. Preferver of human kind! thou, who with thy complacent re- gards embraceft the whole human race, grant that charity máy, 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 takeſt us from this earth, or permitteft us here to 104 THE TEMPLE. to remain, we ſhall never be abſent from thy fight; we aſk for virtue only, left we ſhould offend againſt thy impenetrable decrees; but humble and totally refigned to thy will, vouchfafe, whether we pafs by a gentle or painful death, vouchfafe to draw us toward thee, the fource of eternal happineſs. Our hearts pant after thy prefence. May this mortal veſtment fall off, and may we fly to behold thy glory! What we now ſee of thy greatneſs makes us long for a more extenſive proſpect. Thou haft done too much for man to refufe freedom to his thoughts; he therefore offers up his ardent vows to thee, becauſe, as thy creature, he knows himſelf born to receive thy favours." But, my dear Sir, I faid, your religion if you will permit me to declare it, is, in a manner, the fame with that of the ancient patriarchs, who adored God in ſpirit and in truth, on the tops of the mountains. "Right; you have juſtly expreffed it; our religion is that of Enoch, of Elias, and Adam, and therefore, is at leaſt the most ancient. It is with religion as with laws; the moſt fimple are the beſt. Adore God, love thy neighbour; hearken to that confcience, that judge which continually attends thee; never ftifle that fecret and celeftial voice; all the reſt is impofture, fraud, falfhood*. Our priests do not pretend to a particular inſpiration from God; they call themſelves our equals; they acknowledge, that, like * Our Author cannot refrain from reflecting on the im poſtures of the Romiſh church. THE TEMPLE: 105 like us, they walk in darknefs; they follow, however, that luminous point which God hath been pleaſed to fet before us, and fhew it to their brethren without defpotiſm, and without oftentation. Cheriſh a pure morality, free from dogmatic principles, and you will baniſh atheiſm, fanaticiſm, and fuperftition. 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 of that great and impenetrable fecret? All philofophers have endeavoured to refolve it; the wife man and the fool have paſſed their judgment; fyſtems the moſt diver- fified, the most poetic, have been erected on that famous doctrine; it feems above all things to have excited the attention of legiflators. What is the opinion of your age concerning it? "We need but look round us," he replied, "to know that there is a God; we need but look into 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 diſtinct from matter, that it is intelligent by its nature. We reaſon but little on this fubject; we love to believe all that elevates human nature; the fyftem which exalts it moſt is to us the moſt pleaſing; and we cannot think that ideas which do honour to the creatures of the Almighty God can ever be falfe. To adopt the moſt ſublime plan is not to deceive ourſelves, but to attain the true end. Incredulity is nothing but weakneſs, ་ 106 THE TEMPLE. weaknefs, and boldnefs of thought is the faith of an intelligent being. Why fhould we creep towards inanity, when we find that we have wings by which we can aſcend to the Moſt High, and when there is nothing which contradicts that noble daring. If it were poffible that we could deceive ourſelves, man would have conceived of an order of things more excellent than that which exifts; the fovereign power would then become limited, I had almoſt faid his goodnefs. "We believe that all fouls are equal by their effence, but different by their qualities. The foul of a man and that of a brute are equally immaterial; but one has advanced a step farther than the other toward perfection; and it is that which conftitutes its preſent ſtate, which, however, is at all times liable to change. 虫 ​"We fuppofe, moreover, that all the ftars and all the planets are inhabited, but that nothing which is contained in one is to be found in another. This boundleſs magnificence, this infinite affemblage of various worlds, this glorious circle of existence, feems neceſſary in the vaft plan of creation. Thefe funs, then, thefe worlds fo fair, fo grand, fo diverfified, appear to us habitations all prepared for man; they circulate, they correfpond, and are fubordinate to each other. The human foul afcends to all thefe worlds, as by a gradual and brilliant ladder, that leads, at every ſtep, to the highest degree of perfec- tion. In this journey it forgets nothing it has feen, I or 1 THE TEMPLE. 107 or has learnt; it preferves the magazine of its ideas, which are its most valuable treafure, and by which it is conftantly attended. When it launches forth to fome fublime difcovery, it foars above the peopled worlds already explored, and mounts in proportion to the knowledge and virtue it has acquired. The foul of Newton has flown, by its native vigour, over all the worlds that it once weighed. It would be unjuſt to ſuppoſe that death had power to extinguiſh that mighty genius. Such a deftruction would be more afflicting, more inconceivable, than that of the whole material univerfe. It would be equally abfurd to ſuppoſe, that his foul fhould be placed on a level with that of an ignorant or ſtupid being. In fact, it were to no purpoſe for a man to improve his mind, if it were not capable of elevation, cither by con- templation, or by the exercife of virtue: but an in- ternal fenfe, more powerful than all objections, fays to him, Exert all thy porvers, and defpife death; it de- pends on thyself to conquer, and to augment thy life, which is thought. "For thoſe groveling fouls that are plunged in the filth of vice, or of floth, they will return to the point from whence they parted, or be yet more degraded; they have been for a long time attached to the rueful borders of inanity, have inclined toward fenfelefs matter, and have forined a vile and brutal race; while the generous fouls have foared toward the divine and eternal light, they have plunged into that darkneſs, where fcarce is feen one pale ray of exiftence. A monarch, at his deccafe, becomes a mole; 08 THE TEMPLE. mole; a miniſter, a venomous ferpent, inhabiting ſome filthy 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 of fouls; he difcerned the tranſmigration from one body to an- other; but it was in the fame circle, and never ex- tended beyond this globe. Our metempfychofis is more rational, and fuperior to the ancient. To thoſe noble and generous fouls, who have made the hap- pineſs of their brethren the rule of their conduct, death opens a glorious and brilliant career. What think you of our ſyſtem ?"—I am charmed with it; it is in no wife inconfiftent either with the power or goodneſs of God. This progreffive march, this afcent to dif ferent worlds, to the various revolving fpheres, all the work of his hands, feems to me perfectly 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 proſpect fo interefting as the fight of all thoſe worlds, that will enrich our fouls with millions of novelties, by which they will inceffantly advance toward perfection, and become more fublime, in proportion as they approach the Supreme Being; will know him more perfectly, will love him with more enlightened ardour, and at laft plunge into the ocean of his immenſity. O my faul, rejoice thou canſt not paſs but from wonder to wonder; a pro- ſpect perpetually new, perpetually miraculous, at- 4 tends THE TEMPLE. 109 tends thee. How great are thy hopes? Thou fhalt run through the immenfe fcene of nature, till thou art loft in God, from whom thou deriveſt thy lofty origin." But the wicked, I faid, they who have finned againſt the laws of nature, have fhut their hearts againſt the cry of pity, that have murdered the innocent, and reigned for themſelves alone, what will become of them? Though I love not vengeance, yet I could with my own hands erect a hell for the puniſhment of certain inexorable fouls, who, by pouring down tortures on the weak and the innocent, have made my blood boil with indignation." It is not for our weakneſs, conftantly fubordinate to fo many paffions, to fay in what manner God will punish them. This, however, is certain; the wicked mufl feel the weight of justice; banifhed far from his fight will be every perfidious and cruel being, and all thofe that are indifferent to the misfortunes of others. Never fhall the foul of Socrates, or Marcus Aurelius rencounter that of Nero. This we may venture to affirm; but it is not for us to fix the weights that fhall enter the eternal balance. We believe, however, that thofe crimes which have not entirely obliterated the fentiments of humanity, that the heart which is not become totally infenfible, that even kings, who have not thought themſelves Gods, may become purified, by improving their matures during a long courfe of years; they will de. fcend into thofe globes where phyfical evils predomi- nating will be the ufeful fcourge to make them fenfible of their dependence, and of the need they have of clemency, and may ſerve to obliterate the prefliges L of Iro THE TEMPLE. of their former pridc. If they humble themſelves under the hand that corrects them, if they follow the lights of reafon, if they become fenfible how far dif- tant they are from the ſtate they might enjoy, if they make fome efforts to obtain it, then their pilgrimage will be greatly abridged; they will die in the prime of life, and will be lamented; while, fmiling with great complacency on their rueful habitation, they will lament the lot of thoſe who are compelled to re- main after them upon an unhappy planet, from whence they are delivered. Thus it is, that they who fear death know not what they fear; their ter- rors are the offspring of their ignorance; and that ignorance is the firſt puniſhment of their crimes. "Perhaps too, the most criminal will be deprived of the 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 under a creating, preſerving, and reſtoring God. Let not the wicked man flatter himſelf with that reſource, he will be for ever expofed to the all- piercing eye; perfecutors of every kind will yet wretchedly fubfift, but in the lowcft clafs of exift- ence; they will be inceffantly fubject to freſh tortures, that will renew their flavery and their miſery; but the duration of their punishment God alone can de- termine." CHAP. [ 11 ] CHAP. XX. THE PRELATE. THERE goes a living faint. That man you fee in a plain purple robe, who fupports himſelf by a ſtick, and whofe gait and afpect diſcover neither oftentation nor affected modefty, is our prelate.". How! your prelate on foot "Yes, in imitation of the firſt apofles. They have, however, lately given him a chair; but of that he makes no ufe, except from abfolute neceffity. His revenue flows almoſt entirely into the bofom of the poor; and when he beſtows his donations, he does not firſt inquire if the man be of his particular opinion; it is fufficient for him that they are men, and that they are miſerable; he is not opinionated, fanatic, inflexible, or perfecutive; he does not abufe his facred authority to place him- felf on a level with the throne; his afpect is con- ftantly ferene, the image of a gentle, uniform, and peaceful mind, that never knows warmth or folici- tude, but in doing good. He frequently fays to thoſe he meets, My friends, charity, as St. Paul fays, 'goes before faith; be beneficent, and you have ac- complished the law. Reprove your neighbour, if he err; but without pride, without bitterness. Per- 'fecute no man on account of belief; and take heed how you prefer yourſelf, in the bottom of your ' heart, to him that you have feen commit a fault; for to-morrow you will, perhaps be even more criminal. ، L 2 < • Preach 112 THE PRELATE. < 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 cauſed too much evil, not to be dreaded, and prevented, even in its leaft appearances. That monfter feems at fift to flatter human pride, and to aggrandife the foul to which it hath accefs; but it foon hath recourfe to fraud, 'to perfidy, and to cruclty; it tramples under foot every virtue, and becomes the most terrible ſcourge to humanity.' C But who, I faid, is that magiflrate, with a venera- ble port, that flops him, and with whom he con- verfes with fo much friendship?" That is one of the fathers 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 made of the poor, the widow, and the or- phan, and of the means of relieving their misfor tunes. Such is the intereft that unites them, and which they treat with the moft lively zcal; they never enter into vain difcuffions of thofe antique and ludi- crous prerogatives, which exercifed, in fo puerile a manner, the grave heads of your times.” CHAP. [ 113 ] CHAP. XXI. THE COMMUNION OF THE TWO INFINITES.. BUT who is that young man that I fee ſur- rounded by a bufy crowd? What joy is expreffed in all his motions! How his vifage glows? What hap- pineſs 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 anſwers to what in your time, they called the first communion. We obſerve with a watch- ful eye, the genius, the character, and moft fecret actions of a young man. When we perceive that he fearches out folitary places for reflection; when we furpriſe him with a melting eye; gazing earneſtly on the vaulted roof of heaven, contemplating, in a ſweet ecftafy, the azure curtain that feems ready to be drawn from before him, then there is no time to lofe; then reafon appears to have attained its full maturity, and he is become capable of receiving to advantage a diſplay of the wonders of creation. We make choice of a ferene night, when the ftarry hoſt ſhine forth in their fulleft luftre. Accompanied by his friends and relations, the young man is con- ducted to our obfervatory; his eye is inftantly ap- plied to a teleſcope* ; we caufe Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, all * The telefeope is the moral cannon that has laid in ruins all thoſe ſuperſtitions and phantoms that tormented the hu- L 3 man 114 THE COMMUNION OF all the mighty bodies that float in order amidſt the ethereal ſpace, to paſs before him; we open to him, ſo to ſay, the infinite abyfs; all thoſe radiant globes prefs in crowds upon his aſtoniſhed fight; then a ve- nerable paftor fays to him, with an awful, majeſtic voice, Young man, behold the God of the univerſe, who reveals himself to thee in the midſt of his works; adore the God of thefe worlds, whofe extenfive power exceeds not only the fight of man, but even his imagination; adore that Creator, whofe refplen- dent majeſty is impreſſed on the front of theſe ſtars that obey his laws. When thou beholdeſt theſe 'prodigies, the works of his hand, think with what < bounty* he is able to reward the heart that is de- voted to him. Remember, that among his ftu- pendous man race. It feems as if our reaſon has been enlarged in proportion to the immeaſurable ſpace that has been diſco- vered and traverſed by the fight. Montefquieu fomewhere fays, that the pictures we draw of hell are finiſhed; but that when we would ſpeak of eternal happineſs, we know not what to promiſe the good folks. This thought is an abuſe of that lively wit he ſome- times applies improperly. Let any fenfible man reflect but a moment on the number of keen and delicate pleaſures that proceed from the mind. How far do they furpaſs thoſe of the fenfes and what is the body without the mind? What are our fenfations when we chance to fall into a pro- • found and delicious reverie, where the imagination roves without reſtraint, and creates to itſelf exquiſite and variega- ted delights that have no reſemblance to any material plea- fures? Why cannot the power of the Creator increaſe and prolong THE TWO INFINITIES. 115 < 'pendous works, man, endowed with the faculty of perceiving and difcerning them, holds the firſt 'rank; and that, as the child of God, he ought to venerate that refpectable title.' The ſcene is then changed; a microſcope is brought, and a new univerſe, more aſtoniſhing, more wonder- ful than the former, is diſplayed before him. Thoſe animated points that his eye for the first time be- holds, that move in their inconceivable exility, and are endowed with the fame organs as the giants of the earth, preſent to him a new attribute of the in- telligence of the Creator. • The paftor then proceeds in the fame tone: Feeble beings as we are, placed between two infinities, • oppreſſed on every fide by the force of the divine 'greatnefs, let us adore in filence the fame hand that has illumined fo many funs, and impreffed with life thefe imperceptible atoms. That fight, doubtless, ] which has compofed the delicate ftructure of the heart, the nerves, the minuteſt fibres of an emmet, can eaſily penetrate the inmoſt receffes of our hearts. • What thought fo hidden as to be concealed from • that almighty eye, to which the lacteal way appears no more than the horn of a mite? Let us render our thoughts all worthy to be known by God, to 'whom prolong that happy ſtate? Is not that ecſtaſy which fills the foul of the juſt man, when meditating on his future ſtate, a type of his future pleaſure, when the veil ſhall be taken away, and he ſhall range over the vaſt plan of the univerſe, 116 THE COMMUNION OF " • whom they are ever expofed. How oft in the 'courſe of the day, may the foul mount towards the Supreme, and be ftrengthened 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 praiſe, and acts of thankſgiving.' "The young man remains agitated and aſtoniſhed by the double impreffion that he receives almoſt at the fame inſtant; he weeps with joy; he cannot fatisfy his ardent curiofity; he is tranſported at every ad- vance he makes in thefe two worlds; his words are nothing but a long hymn of admiration; his heart pants with ſurpriſe and awe. At theſe moments, with what energy, with what fincerity does he adore the Being of beings! How is he filled with the divine preſence! How does the teleſcope extend, ennoble his ideas, and render him worthy to be an inhabitant of this wonderful univerfe? He is cured of his terreſtrial ambition, and of the little hatreds that it engenders; he refpects all men as animated with the fame breath of life; he is the brother of all that the Creator has formed * "His glory, from that hour, is to reap in the hea- ven ſtore of wonders; he appears to himſelf of more confequence, fince he has been endowed with the ca- pacity They endeavoured to ridicule a faint, who faid, " Feed on, thou ewe, my fifter; leap for joy, ye fifh that are my brethren." This faint was much more eftinable than his fellows; he was, indeed, a philoſopher. C THE TWO INFINITIES. 117 pacity of underſtanding theſe great truths; he fays to himſelf, God is manifeſt to me; my eye has vifited Saturn, the ftar Sirius, and thofe funs that crowd the milky way; I find that my being is more noble than I imagined, fince the Supreme has vouchfafed to eſtabliſh a relation between my nihility and his greatnefs. O how happy am I to have received life and intelligence! I begin to fee what will be the lot of the virtuous man. O moſt bountiful Godl grant that I may eternally love and adore thee! "He returns many times to feaſt on theſe ſublime objects. From that day he is initiated to the rank of thinking beings; but he religiously keeps the fc- cret, that others, who have not yet attained the age to enjoy ſuch prodigies, may feel the fame degree of pleaſure and ſurpriſe. On the day confecrated to the praiſe of the Creator, it is an affecting fight to fee on our obfervatory the numerous adorers of God falling on their knees, the eye applied to the telc- fcope, and the fpirit in prayer, fending forth their fouls with their fight, towards the Fabricator of theſe ftupendous miracles*. We then fing certain hymns, compofed in the vulgar tongue, by the firft writers. of * If to-morrow the finger of the Almighty fhould write theſe words upon the clouds, in letters of fire, Mortals, adore a God! doubtlefs, every one would fall on his knees. in adoration. Alas! thoughtlefs, ftupid mortals! Is neceffary that God fpeak to thee in French, Chineſe, or Arabic? What are the innumerable ftars, rolling in va- cuity, but facred characters intelligible to every eye, and that manifeftly declare a God, who reveals himſelf to us? 118 THE COMMUNION OF of our nation; they are in every mouth, and defcribe the wisdom and munificence of the Divinity. We cannot conceive how a whole people could formerly invoke God in a language they did not underſtand: that people muft either have been very abfurd, or have burned with a moft devouring zeal. "Frequently, among us, a young man, giving way to his tranfports, expreffes to all the affembly the fentiments with which his heart is filled *; he communicates his enthufiafm to the moſt frigid tem- pers; divine love inflames and invigorates his ex- preffions. The Eternal then feems to defcend in the midſt of us, to liften to his children, who entertain each other with his facred cares and his paternal good- nefs. Our philofophers and aftronomers are eager, on thoſe days of feftivity to reveal their choiceſt diſ coveries; as heralds of the Divinity, they make us fenfible of his preſence, even in thoſe objects that ap. pear to us the moſt inanimate. All things are filled with God they fay, and all things reveal him †. We there- *When a young man is feized with the enthuſiaſm of virtue, even though it fhould be falſe, or dangerous, we fhould be cautious how we undeceive him. Leave him to himſelf; he will diſcover his error. Should you endeavour to correct him, you may, by one word, chance to deſtroy his foul's health, + The exterior worſhip of the ancients confifted of feaſts, of hymns, and dances, together with a very few doginas. The Divinity was not regarded by them as a folitary being, armed with thunder-bolts; he vouchfafed to communicate -him- THE TWO INFINITIES. 119 + therefore doubt, whether, in all the extent of the kingdom, it is poffible to find one atheift*. It is not fear that keeps him filent; we ſhould think him too much worthy of pity to inflict any other puniſhment on him than ſhame; we ſhould only baniſh him from amongſt us, if he became an enemy to the public good, and obftinately determined to oppofe a palpa- ble, comfortable, and falutary truth+; but firft we fhould enjoin him to go through an affiduous courfe of experimental phyfics. It would not be poffible for him to oppoſe the evidence of that demonftrative fcience; it has difcovered relations fo furprifing, fo remote, and, at the fame time, fo fimple, when once they are known; there are fo many accumulated won- ders that lay hid in its bofom, and which are now expofed to open day; in a word, nature is now fo elucidated, even in its minuteft parts, that he who fhould himſelf, and to render his prefence vifible. They thought they did him more honour by feafts than by tears and la- mentation. The legiflature that is beſt acquainted with the human heart will always lead it to virtue by the road of pleafure. * It is for the atheist to prove that the notion of a God is contradictory, and that it is impoffible there ſhould be fuch a being; it is the duty of him that denies to produce his reafons. + When they tell me of the atheiſtic mandarins of China, who preach the moſt admirable inorality, and devote them. felves entirely to the public good, I will not give the lie to the hiſtory, but I will fay, that of all things in the world, it appears to me the moſt incredible. I 20 THE COMMUNION OF ſhould deny an intelligent. Creator would not only be regarded as a ftupid wretch, but as a being totally perverfe; and to find fuch a one among us would be a cauſe of mourning to the whole nation* "But, thank heaven! as no one in our city has the miſerable folly to defire to diſtinguiſh himſelf by notions that are extravagant, and diametrically op- pofite to the univerſal judgment of mankind, we are all of one opinion on that important point; and that being fettled, you will readily believe, that principles of the pureft morality are eaſily deduced, fupported, as they are on that unſhaken bafist. "They thought, in your age, that it was impoffible to poffefs the people with a religion purely fpiritual; that was a grievous error; many of your philofo- phers reviled human nature on that falfe fuppofition. The idea of a God devoid of every imperfection was not, however, fo difficult to conceive. It is proper to repeat here once more, That it is the foul that perceives God.' Why fhould falfehood be more na- tural to man than truth? It would have been fuffi. cient for your age to have baniſhed thoſe impoftors that trafficked in facred things, who pretended to be mediators * The omniprefence of a great and bountiful God enno- bles the frame of nature, and ſpreads every where a certain vivifying and animated air, which a ſceptic and defponding doctrine can never give. ተ I fear God," ſaid a certain perfon; " and after God, I fear none But the man who does not fear him." 2 THE TWO INFINITIES. 121 mediators between God and man, and who diffufed prejudices even more vile than the gold by which they were rewarded. In a word, idolatry, that an- cient monſter, whom the painters, the ftatuaries, 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 baſis of our religion. There need; but one fun to enlighten the univerſe; there needs but one luminous idea to enlighten human realon; all thoſe foreign and factitious aids, with which they would affift the mind, ferve only to confound its they fometimes give it, we confefs, an energy that the fimple truth does not always fhow; but that is a ſtate of intoxication which becomes dangerous. A reli- gious fpirit has produced fuperftition; particular forms of adoration have been prefcribed; and the liberty of mankind, being attacked in its moft valua- ble privilege, has juftly revolted. We abhor that. fort of tyranny; we afk nothing of the heart that it does acknowledge; but is it poffible for any one to oppoſe thoſe luminous and affecting impreffions that are offered him merely for his own happineſs ? "It is to offend against the infinitely perfect Being, to calumniate human reaſon, or to repreſent it as an uncertain and falfe guide. That divine law, which fpeaks from one end of the world to the other, is far preferable to all factitious religions invented by prieſts, whofe fatal effects prove them to be falſe; they form a tottering edifice that is in perpetual need M of 422 THE COMMUNION OF A of freſh props. The natural law is an unfhaken tower, from whence iffue, not difcord, but peace, and unanimity *. Thofe impoftors, who have made God fpeak according to the particular paffions, have caufed the moſt horrid actions to paſs for vir- tues; and by proclaiming a barbarous God, thofe wretches have driven many men of tender feelings into atheiſm, who naturally became more defirous of deſtroying the idea of a vindictive being, than of diſplaying it to mankind†. > We * The natural law, fo fimple and ſo pure, ſpeaks an uni- form language to all nations; it is intelligible to every ſen- fible being; it is not furrounded by fhadows and myſteries; it is animated; it is graved on every heart in indelible cha- racters; its decrees are fecure from the revolutions of the earth, from the injuries of time, and from the caprice of cuſtom; every virtuous man is one of its prieſts; errors and vices are its victims; the univerfe is its temple; and God is the only Divinity it adores. Theſe things have been faid a thousand times; but it is good ſtill to repeat them. Yes, morality is the only religion neceffary to man; when he is rational, then he is religious; when he is ufeful, then he is virtuous. Every man perceives, when he feriouſly exa- mines his own heart, when he confiders his own fituation, what he owes to himſelf and to others. + It is by crushing men by the weight of terrors, it is by confounding their underſtanding, that moſt legiſlators have made flaves, and have flattered themfelves with keeping them eternally under their yoke. The hell that fome Chrif- tians have imagined, is, without doubt, the moſt injurious blafphemy that ever was offered to the divine juſtice and .mercy. Evil ever makes a ftronger impreffion on men than good; THE TWO INFINITIES. 123 "We, on the contrary, it is on the goodneſs of the Creator, fo manifeftly expreffed, that we elevate our hearts towards him. The fhadows of this low world, the tranfient evils that afflict us, even death itſelf, cannot terrify us. All theſe are doubtlefs ufe- ful, neceffary, and even tend to produce our greater felicity. Our knowledge is bounded, and therefore cannot comprehend the defigns of the, Omniscient. If the whole univerſe were to paſs away, what ſhould we fear, feeing, whatever happens, we muſt neceffa- rily fall under the protection of God." # CHAP. good; therefore, a malevolent divinity ftrikes the imagina tion more ſtrongly, than one that is beneficent. For this reafon it is that a gloomy, mournful afpect prevails in all the religions of the world; they difpofe mankind to melan- choly; the name of God perpetually renews in them a ſenſe of terror. A filial confidence, a refpectful hope, would do. far more honour to the Author of every good; and with this genuine Chriftianity perfectly accords; it conveys no. idea of puniſhment for wickedneſs but that of parental chaftiſement, the object of which is to reform and fit the ſufferer for felicity. M 2 124 7 CHAP. XXII. A REMARKABLE MONUMENT: As I came out of the temple, they conducted me to a place not far diftant, to fee a monument lately erected. It was of marble; it excited my curiofity, and infpired me with a defire to fee through that veil of emblems with which it was furrounded. They would not explain it; but left me the pleasure and reputation of the difcovery. A commanding figure attracted my regard; by the fweet majelty of its countenance, by the dignity of its ftature, and by the attributes of peace and con- cord, I faw that it was facred Humanity. It was furrounded by other kneeling ftatues, repreſenting women in the attitude of grief and remorfe. Alas! this emblem was not difficult to explain; they repre- fented the nations demanding pardon of Humanity for the cruel wounds they had given her during the laft twenty centuries. France, on her knees, im. plored pardon for the horrible night of St. Bartho- lomew, for the cruel revocation of the edict of Nantes, and for the perfecution of thofe fages that fprung upon her bofom. How, with her gentle afpect, could fhe ever commit fuch foul crimes! England abjured her fanaticifm, her two rofes, and ſtretched out her hand to philofophy; fhe promiſed to fled no blood but that of tyrants*. Holland detented the parties * She has kept her word. A REMARKABLE MONUMENT. 125 parties of Gomar and Arminius, and the puniſhment. of the virtuous Barnevelt. Germany concealed her haughty front, and faw with horror the hiftory of her inteftine divifions, and of her frantic theologic rage, that was fo remarkably contrafted by the natural coldnefs of her conftitution. Poland beheld, with indignation thofe defpicable confederates, who, in my days, tore her entrails, and renewed the atro- cities of the croifades: Spain, ftill more criminal than her fifters, groaned at the thought of having covered the new continent* with thirty-five millions of carcafes, with having purfued the deplorable re- mains of a thouſand nations into the depths of foreſts, and into the caverns of rocks, and having taught animals, lefs ferocious than themſelves, to drink human blood. Spain may figh and fuplicate her fill, but never ought to hope for pardon; the punishment of ſo many wretches condemned to the mines ought for ever to be urged againſt hert. The ftatuary had reprefented * The Europeans in the new world: what a book yet unwrote! + When I think on thofe wretched beings who enjoy nought of human nature but grief, buried alive in the en- trails of the earth, fighing after that fun which they have. had the misfortune once to fee, but thall never more be- hold, who groan in their horrid dungeons each time they breathe, and who know that they fhall never cfcape from, that frightful night, but to enter into the eternal darkneſs. of the grave; then a fhivering runs through all my frame,. 1.feem to defcend into their infernal regions, I breathe with, M 3. thena 126 A REMARKABLE MONUMENT. repreſented ſeveral mutilated flaves, who, looking up to heaven, cried for vengeance. We retired with terror; we ſeemed to hear their cries. The figure of Spain was compofed of a marble veined with blood; and thoſe frightful ſtreaks are as indelible as the the memory ofher crimes*. She At a diſtance, was feen the figure of Italy, the original caufe of fo many evils, the firft fource of thofe furies that have covered the two worlds. was proftrate, her face againſt the earth; fhe ftifled with her feet the flaming torch of excommunication; fhe feemed fearful to folicit her pardon. I would have examined her afpect more clofely; but, on a near approach, I found a thunder-bolt that lately fell had blackened her vifage and deftroyed all her features. Radiant Humanity raiſed her pathetic front amidſt all theſe humble and humiliated figures. I remarked that the ftatuary had given her the features of that free and courageous nation, who broke the chains of tyrants; them the flench of the torches that illumine their hideous dwellings; I fee that gold, the idol of mankind, in its true afpect; and fomething tells me, that Providence ought to attach to that metal, the fource of ſo many barbarities, the chaſtiſement of thoſe innumerable evils that it cauſes, even before it fees the day. Twenty millions of men have fallen by the fword of Spaniards, and the kingdom of Spain contains fcarce ſeven millions. A REMARKABLE MONUMENT. 127 tyrants; the hat of the great Tell* adorned her head, and formed the moſt refpectable diadem that ever bound the brows of a monarcht. She smiled upon auguft Philofophy, her fifter, whofe pure hands were ſpread towards heaven, by whom he was re- garded with the higheſt complacency. In going from this place, I obferved toward the right, on a magnificent pedeſtal, the figure of a ne- groe; his head was bare, his arm extended, his eye fierce, his attitude noble and commanding; round him were ſpread the broken relics of twenty fcep- ters; and at his feet I read thefe words: To the Avenger of the New World. I cried out with furprife and joy." Yes," they faid, with equal rapture; "nature has at laſt pro duced * William Tell, the famous Swifs, who was commanded by Grifler, governor of Switzerland for the emperor Alber- tus, to shoot an apple off his fon's head, ftanding at a con- fiderable diſtance, which he did without hurting the child. He was one of the principal perſons concerned in the revo- 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 conſtitutes the effence of a re- public, which is, to preferve its own liberties without at- tempting any thing againſt that of others. Good faith, candour, a love of labour, an alliance with all nations, un- known in hiſtory, ftrength and courage fupported in the midſt of a profound peace, notwithstanding the difference of religions, are what may ferve as a model to all nations, and make them blush at their follies. 128 A REMARKABLE MONUMENT. duced this wonderful man, this immortal man, who was to deliver a world from the moſt outrageous, the moſt inveterate and atrocious tyranny. His fa- gacity, his valour, his patience, his fortitude, and vir- tuous vengeance, have been rewarded; he has broke aſunder the chains of all his countrymen. So vaſt a number of flaves, oppreffed by the moſt odious fervi- tude, ſeemed but to wait his fignal to become ſo many heroes. Not the torrent that breaks the dykes, nor the bursting thunder, have a more fudden, or more violent effect. At the fame inſtant, they poured forth the blood of all their tyrants; French, Spaniſh, Engliſh, Dutch, and Portugueſe, all became a prey to the fword, to fire, and poifon. The foil of America drank with avidity that blood for which it had fo long thirſted; and the bones of their anceſtors, cowardly butchered, feem to rife up and leap for joy. "The natives have reaffumed their unalienable rights, as they were thoſe 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 ſtorm which extends itſelf over ſome criminal city that the thunder is ready to deſtroy; he was the exterminating angel, to whom God refigned his fword of juſtice; he has flown by this example, that fooner or later, cruelty will be puniſhed; and that Providence keeps in reſerve ſuch mighty fouls, to fend them upon the earth, that they might reſtore that equilibrium which the iniquity of ferocious ambition had deſtroyed*. * This hero doubtlefs, would have fpared thofe generous quakers, who have lately given their flaves their liberty ; a mac. [ 129 ] CHAP. XXIII. THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c. I WAS fo pleafed with my conductor, that I was fearful every inftant left he ſhould quit me. The hour for dinner had been rung; as I was far diftant from my lodging, and as all my acquaintance were dead, I was looking out for fome tavern, where I might civily invite him to dine, and acknowledge his complaifance at leaft; but was continually at a lofs, for we paffed through feveral ſtreets without ſeeing one place of entertainment. What is become, I faid, of all thofe taverns, all thofe eating-houfes, that, united and divided in the fame employ, were continually at variance with each other*, that ſwarmed at every corner, and formerly peopled a memorable and affecting epoch, at which I ſhed tears of joy, and that makes me deteſt thofe Chriflians who do not imitate them." *He that turns the fpit muft not lay the cloth, and he that lays the cloth must not turn the fpit. It would be cu- rious to examine the bye-laws of the feveral communities of the good city of Paris. The parliament fat gravely for feveral days, in order to fix the invariable rights of a roaſt- 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 Corncille, &c. belongs of right 130 THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c. peopled the city?" That was one of the abuſes your age fuffered to fubfift; they tolerated a mortal fophiftication that killed the citizens when in perfect health. The poor, that is to fay, three parts of the town, not being able to procure the natural wines, compelled by thirst, and by the neceffity of repairing their exhaufted ftrength after labour, drank a flow, poifon in that deteftable liquor, whofe daily uſe con- cealed the perfidy; their nerves were weakened, their entrails dried up. "What could you expect? The duty was become fo exceffive, that it greatly furpaff- 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 poiſon- ed, provided the farmers of the taxes were able to advance in their contracts every year*. The taxes muſt right to them; that whatever proceeds from the brain of a philofopher forms a part of their patrimony; that all hu- man learning, when once ftamped upon paper, becomes a commodity in which no man has a right to deal but them- felves; and that the author of the work can reap no fort of advantage from it, but what they pleaſe to grant him. Theſe extraordinary pretenſions have been publicly expoſed in a printed memoir. M. Linguet, a man of letters, of eloquence, and of 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- giflation of the commerce of France. * A peaſant had an aſs that carried panniers, which his maſter filled with apples to the brim. The poor animal, though THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c. 131 muſt be raiſed, the price of wine muſt be enormouſly enhanced, to fatisfy the horrible avarice of the far- mer-general; and as the great people were not af- fected by this feci et poifon, it was very indifferent to them how fast the fcum of the earth difappeared, for fo they called the labouring part of the nation. "How was it poffible that they could willingly turn their eyes from a murderous abuſe, and one that was fo fatal to fociety? What! could they publicly fell poifon in your city, and the magiftrate give himſelf no concern about it? O barbarous people! Among us, the crime of the cheating adulterator is capital; the poiſoner would be put to death; but we have ſwept away thoſe 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, rich or poor, drinks in a falutary li quor, though heavily loaden, trod on with obedient and patient fteps. At a ſmall diſtance from his village, the clown faw fome ripe apples that hung over the path. "O, ſays he, you can carry thefe, as you carry the others fo well." The afs, as patient as his mafter was rapacious, redoubled his efforts, but his ftrength was unequal to his obedience. They had not gone far before the clown faw an apple lie upon the ground. “O, for this one, he ſaid, one can never make any difference." The poor beaſt was unable to reply; but his ftrength was exhaufted, he funk, and died under his burden. Now, the moral is this. The peaſant is the prince, and the afs is the people: but they must be a very pacific, aſs- like people indeed, who will fuffer themſelves to be cruſh. edto death if they have any fpirit, they will die firft. 132 THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c. quor, a health to his king, to the king that he loves, and by whom he is both beloved and eſteemed.”- And the bread, is that dear?" It is conftantly at the fame price*; for we have wifely eſtabliſhed pub- lic granaries, always full of corn, in cafe of necef- fity; and which we do not imprudently fell to ftran- gers, to buy it again twice as dear three months after. They have balanced the intereſt of the grower and the conſumer, and both have therein found their account. Exportation is not forbid, as it is highly ufeful; but it is confined to judicious bounds. A man of ability and integrity watches over this equili- brium, and ſhuts the ports, when it inclines too much to one fide*. Befides, canals are now cut through the The best method to diminiſh the vices of a people is to render them eafy and content. Neceffity begets three- fourths of their crimes. The people, among whom reigns plenty, are not peſtered with thieves or murderers. The firſt maxim that a king fhould learn is, that the good man- ners of a people depend upon a competency of provifions. † We make the fineſt ſpeculations in the world; We calculate, we write, we are immerfed in political ideas, and never were errors fo multiplied. Common ſenſe would certainly fet theſe matters in a much clearer light. We are become barbarians and ſceptics, with the pretended balance of reafon in our hands. Let us again become men. It is the heart, and not the head, that forms great and gene- rous actions. Henry IV. was the beſt of kings, not becauſe he had more extenfive views than others, but becauſe being fincerely the friend of man, his heart dictated thoſe meaſures that fecured their happineſs. What an unhappy age is that, when they only reaſon about it. THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c. . 133 the kingdom; we have joined the Saon to the Mo- felle and the Loire, and have thus formed a new junction between the two feas infinitely more uſeful than the ancient. Commerce ſpreads its treaſures from Amſterdam to Nantes, and from Rouen to Marfeilles; we have formed a canal in Provence, which was wanted by that fine country, favoured by the moſt benign regards of the fun. In vain, did a zealous citizen offer you his difcoveries and his labour; while you maintained a number of triffling workmen at a great expence, you fuffered that great man to attend for twenty years in a forced inactivity. In a word, our lands are fo well cultivated, the rank of a huſbandman is become fo reputable, and fuch order and liberty reign throughout the country, that if any man in power ſhould abuſe it, by committing a mo- nopoly, juftice, 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 ſword defcends on every guilty head; and examples of this fort fhould be calculated more to intimidate the great than the common people, as they are a hundred times more difpofed to fraud, to ra- pine, and oppreffion of every kind."-Inform me more particularly, 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 ſkillful in calculations; but they never made allowance for the horrid quantity of abuſes. Writers, who had good defigns, fuppofed a juft re- N gulation, 134 THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c. gulation, becauſe with that all things run on per. fectly eaſy. O, how they argued about the famous law of exportation*! and while they were bufied in their fine difputations, how the people fuffered by famine * This famous law, which was to have been the ſignal of public felicity, has been the ſignal of famine. It has de- ftroyed the good effects of the most fruitful harveſts; it has devoured the poor at the door of the granaries that cracked with the weight of corn. A mortal fcourge, unknown to the nation, has rendered its own foil a ftranger, and has diſplayed the moſt horrid depravation of humanity; man has ſhown himſelf the moſt cruel enemy to man. Terrible example, and as dangerous as the fcourge itſelf In a word, the law has confecrated private inhumanity. I am very ready to ſuppoſe great benevolence in thoſe writers, who have been the fupporters of this law; perhaps it may one day do good; but it must be eternally reproached with having caufed, though undefignedly, the death of thoufands of men, and the miferies of thoſe that death has fpared. They were too precipitate; they forefaw all, except the avarice of man, fo ftrongly excited by that dangerous al- lurement. It is a fyphon (as M. Linguet has emphatically expreſſed it) that has been put into the hands of commerce, and by which it has fucked out the ſubſtance of the people. The public clamour ſhould take place of the public gazettes. We have heard the cries of grief; therefore the inftitution As bad. That the evil proceeds from a local caufe is no argument; it ſhould be foreſeen and prevented; it ſhould be remembered, that an article of the utmoft neceffity ought not to be abandoned to fortuitous events; that fo great a novelty, in a vaft kingdom, would give it a ſhock that would certainly opprefs the weakest part. The pecono- mifts, however, promifed themſelves the contrary. They muſt avow, that they have been miſled, even by a delire to ferve THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c. 135 famine! "Thank Providence who has watched over this kingdom, or you would have fed on the grafs of the field; but it had pity on you, and pardoned you, becauſe you knew not what you did. How prolific is error! "There is one profeffion, which is common to al- moſt all the inhabitants, which is that of agriculture, taken 1 ſerve the public; that they had not fufficiently matured their project; that they had confidered it feparately only, whereas in the political economy all things are connected. It is not fufficient to be calculators; they fhould be ſtateſ- men; they ſhould confider what will be deſtroyed or altered by the paffions, and what effect the weight of the rich will have on the poor. They have confidered the object from three points of view only, and have omitted that which was of the utmoſt importance, that which related to the labour- ing part of the people, and who compofe three fourths of the nation. The price of their daily labour is not increaſed, and the avarice of the farmers-general holds them in a ſtill greater dependence; they are not able to appeaſe the cries of their children by redoubling their labours. The dear- nefs of bread has been the thermometer of other proviſions, and each private perfon has found himſelf lefs rich by one half. This law, therefore, has only ferved as a ſcreen to increaſe legally the most horrid monopolies; it has been turned against the nation whom it was to have made flou rifh. Sigh, writers and though you have followed the generous notions of a heart truly patriotic, learn how dan- gerous it is not to know your age and mankind, and to give thein a wholeſome gift which they may turn into a poiſon. It remains for you now to comfort the fick, to point out their remedy, and, if it be poffible, to fave them from de- ftruction. Hic labor, hoc opus.. t N 2 136 THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c. taken in its fullest extent. The women, as weak, are deſtined to cares purely domeftic, never laboured the land; their hands prepared the wool, the flax, &c. Man would bluſh 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 field, and to build a houſe. The culture of the land is alſo moderate; the huſbandman does not toil from early dawn till after fun-fet, bear all the heat of the day, and exhaufted fink, imploring in vain a ſmall portion of what fprings from the labour of his hands. Can there be a deſtiny more diftrefsful, more horrid, than that of the poor peafant, who finds his labours continually increafing, and fills with groans the fhort fpace of his days? What flavery is not preferable to the eternal ſtruggle againſt thofe vile tyrants who continually pillage their huts, by impofing taxes on extreme indigence? The excess of contempt, with which they are treated, makes them infenfible even to deſpair; and, in his deplorable condition, the op. preffed, degraded villager, while he ploughs the heavy land, bows down his head, and finds no difference between himſelf and his ox. "Our fertile plains refound with fongs of joy; the father of each family fets the example: the taſk is eaſy; and when it is done, joy begins; the intervals of repofe render their labour more vigorous; and it is conſtantly attended by ſports or rural dances. Formerly, they went to the towns in fearch of plea- fure; THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c. 137 fure; now they find it in the villages, where each one bears a ſmiling vifage. Labour has no longer an ugly and forbidding aſpect, as it no longer refem- bles flavery; 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 fubjects, which, like ftagnating humours, impedes the circula- tion of the body politic, each individual has time for pleafing amuſement, and no one rank is cruſhed to fupport another. "You will eaſily conceive, therefore, that having no monks, nor prieſts, nor numerous domeſtics, nor uſeleſs valets, nor workmen employed in childiſh lux- uries, a few hours of labour are fufficient for the public wants. Our lands produce plenteous crops of every kind; what is fuperfluous we fend to foreign- ers, and receive in return other commodities. "You will find our markets abundant in all things neceffary to life; pulfe, fruits, fowls, fish, &c. The rich do not, by their extravagance, oppreſs the poor; far from us is the fear of not having a fufficiency; we never practice the infatiable avidity of procuring three times more than we can confume; we regard diffipation with horror. "If nature, during one year, treats us with rigour, the fcarcity does not coft the lives of thoufands; the granaries are opened, and the wife precautions of man, ſoftens the inclemency of the air and the wrath. of heaven. A food that is meagre, dry, badly pre- N3 pared, 138 THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c. pared, and of unwholeſome juices, does not enter the ftomach of the man accuſtomed to hard labour; the rich do not ſeparate the fineſt flour, and leave to others the bran only; fuch an outrage would be re- garded as a fhameful crime; if we fhould know that a fingle man languiſhed for want, we fhould all re- gard ourſelves as culpable; every man would lament his crime with tears. "The pooreft fubject, therefore, is free from all apprehenfions of want; famine, like a threatning fpectre, does not call the labourer from his ftraw, while he is drowning Eis griefs for a few minutes in fleep. 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 poffeffion of riches employ them in making new and uſeful experiments; fuch as ferve more clearly to inveſtigate a ſcience, or carry an art toward perfection; they erect majeſtic edifices; they are diſtinguiſhed by honourable enterprizes; their fortune does not flow into the lap of a foul concu. bine, or upon an iniquitous táble, where roll three dice; their wealth takes a form, a confiftence that is refpectable in the pleafed eyes of the citizens. The darts of envy, therefore, never attack their poffef- fions; we bleſs thofe generous hands, which, as de- pofitaries of the gifts of Providence, have fulfilled its views, by erecting fuch useful monuments. "But THE BREAD, THE WINE, &c. 139 But when we confider the wealthy of your age, the ſcavengers' carts, I think, did not contain matter more vile than their fouls; gold in their hands, baſe- nefs in their hearts, they formed a kind of confpiracy against the poor; they rioted in the labour, the care, and pains of a numerous, unfortunate people; they regarded with unconcern the ſweat of their brows, and thoſe terrors that made them fee an old age abandoned to want; their violence became juſtice; the laws were only exerted to ſanctify their robberies, As a fire deſtroys all that is near it, ſo they deſtroyed all that joined to their lands; and if they were rob- bed but of an apple, they raiſed inceffant clamours, and death alone could expiate fo enormous a crime." -What could I reply? I held down my head; and falling into a profound reverie, I walked concentered in my thoughts." You will have other fubjects for reflection," ſaid my guide; "remark (as your eyes are fixed on the ground) that the blood of animals does not flow in the ſtreets and awake the idea of carnage; the air is freed from that cadaverous fcent, which engendered fo many diſeaſes. A clean ap- pearance is the most certain fign of public order and harmony; it reigns in every part. From a falutary, and I will venture to fay, moral precaution, we have eſtabliſhed ſlaughter-houſes out of the town. If na- ture has condemned us to eat the fleſh of animals, we ſhould at leaſt ſpare ourſelves the fight of their death. The trade of a butcher is followed by fo. reigners driven from their country, they are protected by the law; but we do not rank them in the claſs of citizens; no one of us exerciſes that fanguinary and cruel 140 THE PRINCE A PUBLICAN. : cruel art; we are fearful left it ſhould infenfibly ac- cuſtom our brethren to loſe the natural impreffion of pity, which, you know, is the moſt amiable and moſt worthy prefent nature has given us*. CHAP. XXIV. THE PRINCE A PUBLICAN. "YOU are defirous to dine," ſaid my guide; "for the walk has procured you an appetite. Very well; let us enter this public houſe."-I ftop- ped fhort. You do not obferve, I faid, 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 always keeps three open tables; one for him- felf and his family, another for ftrangers, and a third for the neceffitous."-Are there many fuch tables kept in town." Yes, by all the princes."You muft then have a great number of idle parafites."- "Not at all; for when any one makes a practice of ** * it, * The Banians eat nothing that has had life; they are even fearful of killing the leaft infect; they throw rice and beans into the river, and grain upon the earth for the nou rishment of the fish and birds. When they meet a hunter or fifher, they pray him earneſtly to defift from his enter- prize; and if 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 ftrength to drive away the birds. Hiftory of Voyages. THE PRINCE A PUBLICAN. 141 it, and is not a ſtranger, he is marked; the cenfors of the city inquire into his abilities, and affign him an employment; or if he be found fit for nothing but to eat, he is banifhed the city, as in the republic of bees, they drive all thoſe from the hive who are only able to confume the common ſtock."-You have then cenfors?" Yes; or they rather merit another name; they are monitors that bear about the torch of reaſon, and cure indocile or rebellious fpirits, by employing fometimes the eloquence of the heart, and fometimes gentleness and addreſs. «Theſe tables are intended for the aged, the fick, teeming women, orphans, and ſtrangers. Every one fits down without ſhame, and without heſitation; they there find a wholeſome, light, and plentiful re- paſt. This prince, who refpects humanity, does not diſplay a luxury as offenfive as it is faftuous; he does not employ three hundred men in providing a din- ner for twelve perſons; his table does not repreſent the decorations of an opera; he does not glory in what is a real diſgrace, in a fenfelefs, monftrous pro- fufion*; when he dines, it is fufficient that he has an appetite; he thinks, it would be to make a god of himself, to have a hundred difhes ferved up to him, * When we fee the print of Gargantua, that has a mouth as large as an oven, and fwallows at one meal twelve hun- dred pounds of bread, twenty oxen, a hundred ſheep, fix hundred fowls, fifteen hundred hares, two thouſand quails, a thouſand barrels of wine, fix thouſand peaches, &c. &c. &c. who does not fay, "That is the mouth of a king?” 142 THE PRINCE A PUBLICAN. him, which, like the ancient idols he could not taſte." While we were converfing, we croſſed two courts, and entered a very long hall, which was that for strangers. 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 nouriſhing foup, fome pulfe, a few wild fowl, and fome fruit, all plainly dreffed*. This, I faid, is admirable. O, how excellently are riches employed, when they feed the hungry! I find this way of thinking far more noble, and more worthy of their rank..... All paffed with the greateſt order; a decent and animated converfation gave an additional pleaſure to this public table. The prince. appeared; he gave his orders on one fide and the other, in a noble and affable manner; he came finiling to me, and inquired about the age I lived in; he conjured me to be fincere. Alas! I faid, your diſtant anceſtors were not fo generous as you are; they paffed their days in hunting and at table; * 1 have ſeen a king, entering the hotel of a prince, through a large court filled with wretches, who cried, with a languiſhing voice, "Give us fome bread?" and after hearing their cries, without making any reply, the king and the prince have fat down to a dinner that coſt near a milliou of livres. Į * The chace ſhould be regarded as an ignoble, wretched diverfion; we ſhould never kill any animals but from necef- fity; } THE PRINCE A PUBLICAN.' 143 table; if they killed hares, it was from idleneſs, and not to feed thoſe who had fed them; they never raiſed their minds to any great and uſeful work; they expended millions in dogs and valets, in herfes and flatterers. In a word, they followed the trade of courtiers; they abandoned the cauſe of their country. Every one lifted up his hands in amazement: I had the greateſt difficulty to make them believe it.- "Hiſtory," they faid, “does not tell us this; on the the contrary" Ah! I replied, the hiftorians were ſtill more criminal than the princes. - CHAP. fity; and of all employments, it is furely the moſt ungrate ful. I always read with a repeated attention what Mon- taigne, Rouſſeau, and other philoſophers have wrote on the chace. I love thofe good Indians who refpect even the blood of animals. The natural difpofitions of men are painted in the fort of pleatures they purfue; and what a wretched pleaſure to bring down a bloody partridge from the air! to maffacre a number of hares 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 itſelf; a free inhabitant of the foreft, he falls into the cruel jaws of his enemies, while man purfues, and pierces his heart with a javelin; the barbarian fmiles to fee his beauteous fides befmeared with blood, and the fruitles tears ftream from his eyes. A diverfion like this must take its fource from a heart naturally infenfible; and the character of a hunter is that of an indifference prompt to change into cruelty. ! [ 144 ] CHAP. XXV. THE THEATRE. AFTER dinner, they propofed going to the play. I always loved the theatre, and ſhall love it a thouſand years hence, if I fhould live fo long. My heart bounded with joy. What play is it? Which of all your dramas is reckoned the mafter-piece by the people? Shall I fee the Perfian, Grecian, Ronian, or French dress? Will they dethrone fome ſtupid tyrant, or ftab fome weak unguarded wretch? Shall I fee a confpiracy or fome ghoſt aſcend from the tomb at the found of thunder? But, gentlemen, have you any good actors? they have been at all times as fcarce as great poets." Why, yes, they take pains; they ftudy; they fuffer themſelves to be in- ftructed by the beft 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 actor or actreſs; the reft were all worthy of the booths on the Boulevards*. You had a ſmall miferable theatre in a city that rivalled Rome and Athens; and that theatre was miferably governed. The comedian, to whom *The Boulevards are a part of the ancient ramparts of Paris, which in the fummer months are lined with a great number of coffee and mufic houſes, puppet fhews, conjurers, wild beasts, rope dancers, and every other kind of low diverfion. I THE THEATRE. 145 1 whom a fortune was given that he was far from meriting, had the infolent pride to haraſs the man of genius, who found himſelf obliged to refign to him his long-laboured piece*. Thefe men did not bluſh to refufe, or play with regret, the beſt dramas, while thofe they received with rapture bore, by that very teftimony, the marks of fudden reprobation. To conclude, our actors do not intereſt the public with the quarrels of their dirty, miferable barn. "We have four theatres, in the middle of the four quarters of the city. They are fupported by the government; for they are made public fchools of taſte and morality. We have difcovered all that influence which the afcendency of genius has over fenfible * In France, the government is monarchical and the theatre republican. By their prefent manner of proceed- ing, the dramatic art will not be foon brought to perfection. I will venture to affirm, that every piece of any excellence will be profcribed by the government. Authors write tragedies on antique fubjects; we muſt have romances, and not reprefentations capable of affecting and inftructing the nation; lull us with fome old ſtory of a cock and a bull; but do not deſcribe modern events, and leaft of all fuch men as now exist. ¶ There are no managers, or at leaſt ſeparate proprietors, at either of the theatres of Paris. The whole company make onc body, and divide the profits among them. ነ } 146 THE THEATRE. fenfible minds*. Genius has produced the most wonderful effects, without labour and without vio- lence. It is in the hands of the great poets that are depofited, fo to fay, the hearts of their fellow-citi- zens, and which they modify after their own pleaſure. How criminal are they, when they produce dan- gerous principles! but how fhort is our moft lively acknowledgment, when they combat vice and ſupport humanity! Our dramatic authors have no other view than the improvement of human nature; they all ſtrive to elevate and ftrengthen 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 ſo eaſy to give them fich as are elegant, pleaſing, inſtructive, and adapted to their capacities; but it is of little concern to thofe that govern, whether the body be poiſoned at the public houſe, by adulterated wine poured into pewter veſſels, or the mind corrupted at the fair by wretched farces. If the leſſons for theft that are given by the buffoon Nicolet, and which are regarded as ſtrokes of wit, are followed, a gibbet is preſently erected. There is even a ſentence of the police that expreſsly condemns the people to fee licentious exhibitions, and that forbids the players of the Boulevards to perform any thing that is rational, and that out of re- gard to the refpectable privileges of the king's comedians. It is in a polite age; it was in the year 1767, that this ſen- tence was publiſhed. With what contempt do they treat the poor people! How is their inſtruction neglected, as if there were reaſon to fear their acquiring any juſt lights! It is true, that, in return, they cull, with the greateſt nicety, the verſes that are to be pronounced on the French theatre. 2 THE THEATRE. 147 render it independent and virtuous. The good citi- zens themſelves ready and affiduous in promoting thofe chef-d'oeuvres that affect, intereft, and en, dow the heart with that falutary emotion that dif poſes it to compaffion; the characteristic of true greatnefs*. "We arrived at a ſpacious place, in the midſt of which was fituate an edifice of a majeſtic compofition. On the top of the front were placed ſeveral allego- rical figures. On the right was Thalia, plucking off the maſk with which vice had covered her viſage, and with her finger pointing to her deformity. On the left, Melpomene, armed with a poignard, opened the breaft of a tyrant, and expoſed to every eye the ferpents that devoured his heart. The infide of the theatre formed an advanced femi- circle; fo that the fpectators were all commodiously diftributed. Every one was feated; and when I re- collected, *What force, what effect, what certain triumph, would not our theatre have, if government, inſtead of regarding - it as an afylum for idlers, would confider it as the ſchool of virtue and of the duties of a citizen! But what have men of the greateſt genius amongſt us done? they have taken their fubjects from the Greeks, the Romans, Perfians, &c. they have preſented us with foreign, or rather factitious manners. Harmonious poets, faithlefs painters, they have drawn ideal pictures; with their heroes, their tumid verſes, their monotony of paffions, and their five acts, they have depraved the dramatic art; which is nothing more than a fimple, faithful, animated painting of the manners of our cotemporaries. 148 THE THEATRE. collected 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 perfons than the houſe would conveniently hold; there were fome places always left empty for ftrangers; the company was brilliant; the ladies were elegantly dreffed, 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 mufic is fublime.- "We have found the mean of uniting, without con- fufion, the two exhibitions in one, or rather of re- viving the alliance of poetry and mufic that was formed by the ancients. During the interacts of our dramas, they entertain the audience with animated fongs, that paint the fentiments, and difpofe the mind for the enjoyment of what is going to be offer- ed. Far from us is banifhed all effeminate, capricious, or noify mufic, that ſpeaks not to the heart. Your opera was a grotefque, monftrous compofition. We have referved all of it that was good. In your own time it was far from being fecure from the juſt re- proach of men of ſenſe and taſte*; but now.. As he faid thefe words, the curtain rofe. The fcene was at Touloufe; I faw its capitol, its magif trates, * The opera cannot but be very dangerous; but there is no ſpectacle fo expenſive to government: it is even the only one about which it is intereſted. THE THEATRE. 14J trates, the judges, the executioner, and the fanatic people. The family of the unfortunate Calas ap- peared, and drew tears from my eyes. The old man came forward with his hoary locks, his tranquil firmness, his gentle heroifm: I faw the fatal deſtiny mark his innocent head with all the appearance of criminality. What moſt affected me was the truth that ran through this drama. They had been very cautions not to disfigure this pathetic fubject by im- probabilities, or by the monotony of our rhiming verfes; the poet, in following the steps of this cruel event, had attached himſelf to thofe incidents only which the deplorable fituation of each victim pro- duced, or rather he had borrowed their language; for all the art confifts in faithfully repeating the voice of nature. At the end of the tragedy, they pointed me out: "There is 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 witnefs to the fury of that abfurd fanati cifm!"-I wrapped myſelf up in my cloak; I hid my face, while I bluſhed for the age in which I was born. They gave out for the next day, the tragedy of Cromwell, or the Death of Charles I.* and all the people appeared highly pleafed. "That piece," they faid, "was a chef-d'oeuvre; the caufe of kings and of the people, had never been reprefented with that force, that eloquence, and truth. Cromwell was * On what are you dreaming, tragedians? While fuch a fubject offers itfelf, you tell us about Perfians and Greeks; you give us romances in rhime; ah! give us Cromwell. 0 3 150 THE THEATRE. was an avenger, a hero worthy of the fceptre he caufed to fall from the hand of one that was perfi- dious and criminal towards the ſtate. Kings," ſaid they," whoſe hearts are diſpoſed to injuſtice, can never read that drama without blanching their haughty fronts." They announced for the fecond piece, The Hunt ing-Match of Henry IV. His name is conſtantly adored; future good kings have not been able to ef- face his memory. This piece does not ſhow that the man disfigures the hero. The conqueror of the league never appeared to me fo great as at that in- ſtant, when, to fave trouble to his hofts, his victorious arm bore a pile of difhes. The people clapped their hands with tranſport; and by applauding the great and beneficent mind of that monarch, they heaped commendations on their own king. I came away highly fatisfied. Thefe actors, Ifaid to my guide, are excellent; they have fouls, they feel, they exprefs; they have nothing conftrained, af- fected, gigantic, or outré; even the very affiſtants perform their parts; in fact, that is extraordinary.- "It is," he replied, "on the theatre as in common life; every one places his glory in acting well his part, which, how low foever it may be, becomes honourable to him who therein excells. Declamation is regarded as an estimable and important art by our government. Heirs of your capital works, we perform them to a perfection that would aſtoniſh you; we know how to do honour to that which genius has traced. O, what THE THEATRE. 151 O, what art is more pleaſing than that which paints all the combinations of fentiments by the looks, the voice, and the gefture! What an harmonious and affecting whole! and what energy does it borrow from fimplicity!"-You have then diveſted yourſelves of great prejudices? I doubt whether you regard the profeffion of a comedian as baſe." It has ceaſed to be fo, fince they have been men of principle. There are prejudices that are dangerous, and others that are uſeful. In your time, it was doubtless prò- per to bridle that feducing and dangerous difpofition, that led youth to a profeffion, of which licentiouſneſs was the baſis. But all is changed; wife regulations, by making the players forget themſelves, has enabled them to recover the path to honour; they are en- tered into the clafs of citizens. But lately our pre- late befought the king to give the embroidered hat to a comedian by whom he had been remarkably affected."-How! does your good prelate go to the play?" Why not, fince the theatre is become the ſchool of manners, of virtue, and fentiment? They write, that the father of the Chriſtians amuſed him- felf highly, in the temple of God, with liftening to the equivocal voices of mutilated wretches; we never hear fuch deplorable accents; they muft afflict at once the ear and the heart. How was it poffible for men to liſten to fuch cruel mufic? It is far inore eligible, I think, to fee the admirable tragedy of Mahomet performed, where the heart of an ambitious villain is laid bare, where the furies of fanaticiſm are ſo ener- getically expreffed, as to make uninſtructed ſouls that have any difpofition to it, tremble. 冷 ​"There 15% THE THEATRE. "There goes the paftor of this quarter, who, as he returns, is reafoning with his children on the tragedy of Calas. He enlightens their underſtanding and their tafte; he abhors fanaticism; and when he thinks on that foul rage, which like an epidemic diftemper, defolated one half of Europe for twelve centuries, he thanks heaven for having arrived fo late in the world. At certain times of the year, we enjoy a pleaſure, which to you was abfolutely unknown; we have re- vived the pantomime art, ſo pleaſing to the ancients. How many organs has nature given to man! and how many refources has that intelligent being to exprefs the almoſt infinite number of hi.. fenfations! All is countenance with theſe eloquent men; they talk as clearly to us with their fingers as you can' with your tongue. Hippocrates formerly faid, that the pulfe difcovered a ruling Deity. Our expert pantomimes fhew what magnificence Providence has ufed in forming the human head."O, I have nothing to fay; all is perfection!"How is that? Much yet remains to be done ere we attain perfection. We are freed from that barbarifm in which you was plunged; fome heads were foon enlightened; but the nation in general was inconfequent and puerile ; it is by degrees that minds are formed; more remains to be done than we have yet accomplished we are fcarce yet half-way up the ladder; patience and refig- nation produce all things; but much I fear, that abſolute good is not of this world. It is, however, by conftantly pursuing it, I imagine, that we are en- abled to render matters, at leaft, tolerable." CHAP. [ 153 ] CHAP. XXVI. THE LAMPS. WE came out of the theatre without trouble or confuſion; the paffages were numerous and con- venient. I beheld the streets perfectly light; the lamps were placed against the walls; and their united luftre left no fhade; nor did they caft a re- verberated glare that was dangerous to the fight; the opticians did not promote the intereft of the ocu- lifts. I faw not at any corner thofe proſtitutes, who, with their feet in the kennel, their painted faces, and looks as bold as their geftures, invited the paffen- ger in a brutal ftile, to an entertainment as infipid as grofs. All thofe places of debauchery, where men went to degrade their nature, and to make themſelves contemptible in their own eyes, were no longer tole-. rated; for every vicious inftitution has its fellow; they are all connected; unhappily for man, there is no truth better proved than this that is fo fatal*. I obferved It is a great misfortune to any city to be pestered with a number of prostitutes; the youth exhauft their ftrength, or perish in a bafe or criminal debauchery; or when totally enervated, they marry, and fuffer their young deluded wives to languiſh by their fides; as Colardeau fays. "They reſemble thoſe mournful lights that burn by the dead, but are unable to warm their aſhes.” Semblables a ce's flambeaux, a ces lugubres feux, Qui brulent prés des mort, fans echauffer leur cendre. 154 THE LAMPS. I obferved that there were guards who preferved the public fecurity, and prevented any one from dif turbing the hours of repofe." You there fee," ſaid my guide, "the only fort of foldiers for which we have any occafion ; we have no devouring army to maintain in time of peace. Thoſe maſtiffs, which we formerly nouriſhed, that they might, when command- ed, fly upon the ftranger, were well nigh devouring the children of the houſe; but the torch of war, once extinguiſhed, will never more be relumined; the fovereigns of the earth have deigned to hear the voice of philofophy *; connected by the ſtrongeſt bands, * Charles XII, was in the hands of a goverpor void of ability; he mounts the throne, at an age when we are full of fenfations, and thofe that make the first impreffions ap- pear immutable truths; every idea feems good, becauſe we know not which to prefer. In this pernicious ſtate of activity and ignorance, he reads Quintus Curtius; he there fees the character of a conquering monarch pompously de- fcribed and propoſed as a model, which he adopts; he no longer finds any thing but war that can make a prince. il- luftrious; he arms; he advances; fome fuccefs confirms him in his flattering paffion; he lays wafte countries, de- ftroys cities, ravages provinces and ſtates, 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 fubjects; that his true glory confifts in their love; that a peaceful heroiſm, which ſupports the laws and the arts, far out-weighs a warlike heroiſm; fuppoſe, in ſhort, that they had given him juft ideas of that tacit covenant which a peq- ple neceffarily make with their king; that they had point- ed THE LAMPS. 155 bands, by thofe of intereft, which they have difco- vered after fo many ages of error; reafon has taken poffeffion of their minds; they have attentively con- fidered that duty which the health and tranquility of their people impofes on them; they place their glory in good government, preferring the pleaſure of making a ſmall number happy to the frantic am- bition of ruling over countries defolated, or filled with ulcerated hearts, to whom the power of a conqueror muſt for ever be odious. Theſe kings, by common confent, have fixed bounds to their dominions, and fuch as nature itſelf ſeems to have affigned, in fepa- rating them by feas, by foreſts, or mountains; they have learned that a kingdom of but ſmall extent is fufceptible of the beſt form of government. The fages of each nation dictated the general treaty, and it was confirmed by an unanimous voice; that which an age of iron, and dirt, and that which a man without virtue called the dream of a 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 aboliſhed. We regard all men as our friends and brethren. The Indian and the Chineſe ed out to him the conquerors blafted by the tears of their cotemporaries, and by the hatred of pofterity: his innate love of glory would have been carried toward uſeful ob- jects; he would have employed his abilities in poliſhing his people and eſtabliſhing their happinefs; he would not have ravaged Poland, but have governed Sweden. Thus, one falſe idea, taking poffeffion of the mind of a monarch, carries him away from his true intereft, and is the caufe of mifery to millions of people. 156 THE LAMPS. Chineſe are our countrymen, when they once fet foot on our land. We teach our children to regard all mankind as compofing one and the fame family, af ſembled under the eye of one common father. This manner of thinking muſt be the best, becauſe it has prevailed with inconceivable rapidity. Excellent works, wrote by men of fublime genius, have ferved as fo many torches to illumine a thouſand others. Men, by encreaſing their knowledge, have learned to love and eſteem each other. The Engliſh, as our nearest neighbours, are become our intimate allies; two generous people no longer hate each other by foolishly efpoufing the private animofities of their rulers. Our learning and arts unite us in a commu nication equally advantageous. The English, for example, full of reflection, have improved the French, who abound in levity; and we Frenchmen have diſ- fipated furpriſingly the melancholy humour of the English; thus the mutual exchange has produced a fruitful fource of conveniences, of pleaſures, and of new ideas, happily received and adopted. It is printing that, by enlightening mankind, has pro- duced this grand revolution." * I sprung * It has another excellence; it is the formidable bridle to arbitrary power, by making public its leaft encroach- ments, by fuffering nothing to be concealed, and by eter- nizing the vices and even the weakneſs of kings. One re- markable act of injuftice is by this means echoed through. all the nations of the earth, and roufes every free and fen- fible mind. The friend to virtue will cheriſh this art; but the bad man muft tremble, when he fees the preſs ready to publifh his iniquities to all ages and all nations. THE FUNERAL. 157 ་ I fprung with joy to embrace the man who told me theſe gladfome tidings. O heaven! I cried with tranfport, then mankind are at laft become worthy of thy regard; they have diſcovered that their real ſtrength is in their union. I fhall die content, fince my eyes now behold what they have fo ardently defired. 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! CHAP. XXVII. THE FUNERAL. I SAW a carriage covered with white cloth, preceded by inftruments of mufic, and crowned with triumphant palms. It was conducted by men clothed in light blue, with laurels in their hands.-What car-, riage is that? I faid." It is the chariot of victory,” they replied. "They that have quitted this life; that have triumphed over human miferies, thofe hap- py men that have rejoined the fupreme Being, the fource of all good, are regarded as conquerors; we hold them as facred; we bear their bodies with re- fpect to the place that is to be their eternal refidence. We fing the hymn on the contempt of death. In- ftead of thofe grim fculls that crowned your tombs, you here will fee heads with a ſmiling air; it is witla P that ་་ } 158 THE FUNERAL. that afpect we regard death. No one weeps over the infenfible aſhes. We weep for ourfelves; not for them. We conſtantly adore the hand of Providence, that has taken them from the world. As we must fubmit to the irrevocable law of nature, why fhould we not freely embrace that peaceful ſtate, which can- not but improve our being *. This corpfe is going to be reduced to aſhes at three miles from the city; furnaces conftantly burning for that purpoſe, confume our mortal remains. Two dukes and a prince are encloſed in that chariot with a common citizen. By death all are levelled; and we then restore that equality which nature has obſerved among her children. This wife cuſtom di- miniſhes, 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 reft, dignities, riches, honours, are all effaced. The corruptible matter that com- pofed their bodies is not them; it goes to be mixt with the afhes of their equals; we annex no other idea to the perishable carcafe. We erect no pompous tombs, decorated with falfe, tumid, and puerile epitaphst. Our kings, after their deceaſe, He that is in great fear of death, if he be not of a con- ftitution remarkably timorous, is certainly a bad man. + O death, I blefs thy power! It is thou that felleft the tyrants of the earth; that bridleft cruelty and ambition'; it THE FUNERAL. 159 deceaſe, do not fill their fpacious palaces with an imaginary terror; they are no more flattered at their deaths than during their lives. When they leave the earth, their icy hands do not fnatch from us a part of our fubfiftence; they die without involving a city' in ruin*. L To prevent all accidents, no dead body is removed till the vifitor has fixed on it the feal of death. This vifitor is a man of known ability, who remarks, at the fame time, the age, fex, and the difeafe of the deceased; they print in the public papers the name of the phyfician by whom he was attended. If in the book of reflection, that each man, as I have faid, leaves at his death, there be any thing truly great or uſeful, they are felected and publiſhed, and that is the only funeral oration in ufe amongst us. It it is thou that layeft in the duft thofe that the world had flattered, and that treated mankind with contempt; they fall, and we breathe. Without thee our miferies would be eternal. O, death! Who holdeft in awe the inexorable and the triumphant, who pierceft the guilty fouls with ter- ror; thou hope of the unfortunate; at length extend thy arm over the perfecutors of my country. And you, de- vouring infects, that people the fepulchres, our friends, our avengers, come in crowds to receive the carcafes of thoſe that have fattened by their crimes. * To that funeral pomp which oftentationfly conveys a king to an obſcure cavern, to thofe mournful ceremonics, to thoſe numerous emblems of public grief, of univerſal mourning, what is there wanting-One fincere tear. P 2 1160 THE FUNERAL. • T It is a falutary belief received amongst us, that the ſpirit has the liberty of frequenting thofe places that were dear to it; that it delights in beholding thoſe it loved; that it hangs in filence over their heads, con- templating the lively forrow of friendship; that it does not lofe that fympathy, that tenderne fs which formerly united it to fenfible hearts; that it finds a pleaſure in their prefence, and in protecting them from thoſe dangers that ſurround their tender frames. Theſe benign manes correfpond to your guardian angels. This opinion ſo pleaſing and confolatory, in- fpires us with a confidence, as well in undertaking as executing, that was unknown to you; who, far, from enjoying thefe delightful conceptions, filled your ima ginations with gloomy and frightful chimeras. You can eaſily perceive with what a profound ve- neration fuch an opinion inſpires a young man, who having lately loft his father, believes that he is ftill a witneſs of his moft fecret actions. He talks to him in folitude; he becomes animated by that awful pre- fence which enjoins him to virtuous actions; and if he finds himself tempted to evil, he fays, " My father fees me! My father hears me!" The young man dries up, his tears, becauſe the hor- rible idea of inanity does not afflict his foul; it feems to * An opinion like this fhould feem fuperfluous to him who knows, that the great Father of the univerfe is per- petually preſent to all his actions; but, alas, the human mind feems incapable of retaining that great idea for any long time together. THE FUNERAL. 161 to him that the ſhades of his anceſtors only wait for his coming that they may advance together toward the eternal abode. And who can deny himſelf the hopes of immortality! Were it even an illufion, would it not be pleaſing and awful to us? I think it will not he improper to add here the following reflections, as they correfpond with the preceding chapter, and may ferve to explain it. They are in the manner of Young, though compofed in French. AN ECLIPSE OF THE MOON. (It is a Solitary that ſpeaks.) I INHABIT a ſmall country houſe, that contributes not a little to my happineſs. It has two different profpects. One is extended over fertile plains, where grows that precious grain that is the nourishment of man. The other, more confined, prefents the laſt afylum of the human race; the term that bounds its pride; a narrow ſpace, where the hand of death lays up, with equal care, its peaceful victims. The profpect of this cemetry far from producing gloomy ideas, the children of a vulgar terror, roufes in my mind wiſe and uſeful reflections. There I no longer hear the tumult of the town, which confounds the mind. Attended by none but auguft melancholy, I am filled with important objects. I look, with an eye, ferene and immoveable, on that tomb where man fceps to rife again; when he fhall acknowledge P 3 the 162 AN ECLIPSE OF THE MOON. the munificence of nature, and juftify the eternal Wiſdom. The pompous glare of day to me feems dull; I wait the dawn of night, and that fweet obfcurity, which lending its charms to filence, aids the foaring of fublimeft thought. Then, while the bird of night fending forth a mournful cry, beats the thick dark- nefs with her heavy wing, I feize my lyre. All hail! majeſtic fhades! while from my eyes you hide the tranfient fcenes of this low world, to nobler fights. exalt my foul; let me behold that radiant throne, where fits refplendent Truth! My ear purſues the folitary bird; foon fhe fettles on the fcattered bones; and with her beating wing rolls, with a hollow found, that fcull where lately dwelt ambition, pride, and projects bold and vain. 'T'hen to fome cold ftone fhe flies, where oftentation graved thofe names that time hath quite effaced; and then to poverty's fair hillock, crowned with flowers. Duft of proud man! that never more fhall fee this earth, to empty titles dareft thou ftill pretend? O miferable pride in death's domain! See, where the coffin, with its threefold fides, forbids the moulder- ing bones to mingle with their kindred duſt. Approach, proud mortal! to yonder tombs direct thy fight. 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 ob- livion's fhade concealed; even as the gaudy ftreamer for a moment floats, and then the veffel follows, by the waves devoured. O! far more happy he, that not vain pyramids hath built, but in the path of honour and of virtue conftant trod. He joyful looks to heaven; and when this fragile frame diffolves, where fwarms of pains diſtract the immortal foul, he gladly meets that ftroke, which fills the finner with difmay. By oft re- flecting on the bright example of the expiring juft, we alfo learn to die. He dies, the juft man dies: he fees thoſe tears that not for him, but for ourſelves we fhed. His brethren furround the mournful bed: Of thoſe delightful truths they talk, with which his foul was filled, and of that Power Divine to him revealed fo clear. The immortal curtain feemed to rife before his dying fight. .... He raiſed his radiant head, ftretched forth his friendly hand, he ſmiled, and then expired. But thou, vile finner! thou who in fuccefsful vil- lainy haſt lived, far different thy end fhall be, thou horrid tyrant! Then agonizing, pale, to thee ſhall death prefent a dreadful aſpect; of his bitter cup ſhalt thou drink deep, drink in all its horrors. Thou canſt not lift thy eyes to heaven, nor fix them on the earth; for well thou knoweft that both renounce, that both reject thee. Expire in terrors, that thou mayeft no longer live in hatred! That 164 AN ECLIPSE OF THE MOON. That moment dire, which turns the finner pale, the good man placid views; to nature's fixed decrees he tranquil yields; theſe tombs regards as veffels formed to purge, by fire, the purer gold from every drofs; the mortal frame diffolves, and to the bliſsful regions flies the foul refined. Then why regard with dread thofe cold remains that once confined the foul? They rather fhould remind us of its happy flight. The antique temple fomewhat of its priftine majeſty preferves, even when in ruins'hurled. Penetrated with a facred refpect for the ruins of humanity, I defcended to that earth ftrewed with the holy aſhes of my brethren. The calm, the filence, the cold immobility, all faid to me, They fleep. I advanced, I avoided treading upon the grave of a friend but just filled up; I recollected myſelf, that I might revere his memory; I ftopped; I liftened at- tentively, as wiſhing to catch fome of thofe founds which might chance to eſcape from that celeſtial har- mony he now enjoys in the heavens. The planet of the night, in her full luftre, poured her filver beams upon the mournful fcene. I lifted my eyes toward the firmament of heaven. They roll, thofe worlds innumerable, thofe flaming funs fo profufely fpread through all the ethereal space. Then again my fight was fixed on that filent grave, where periſh the eyes, the tongue, the heart of him with whom I had con- verfed on theſe fublime wonders, and who extolled the Author of theſe tranſcendent miracles, Suddenly there came on an eclipfe of the moon, which I had not forefeen. I was not even fenfible. 1 of AN ECLIPSE OF THE MOON. 165 } of it till the darknefs began to furround me. I could then difcern a ſmall ſhining ſpace only that the ſhadow haftened to cover. A profound darkneſs ſtopped my ſteps; I could no longer difcover any object; I loft the path; I turned a hundred times; the gate feemed to fhun me; the clouds gathered; the winds whiſtled; I heard a diſtant thunder; it arrived with uproar on the wings of the lightening; my mind was confounded; I fhivered; 1 ftumbled over the ſcattered bones; terror precipitated my ſteps; I came to a tomb juſt opened to receive the dead; I fell in; the grave received me living; I found myſelf buried in the humid entrails of the earth; I feemed to hear the voice of all the dead that hailed my arrival; an icy trembling feized me; a cold ſweat came over me; I funk into a lethargic flumber. Why did I not die in that peaceful ftate? I was already entombed; the curtain that conceals eternity was drawn up. I do not regard this life with horror; I know how to enjoy it: I endeavour to render it uſeful; 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 ftarry vault; fome feat- tering rays pierced through the clouds; by degrees, they became more bright; they difperfed, and I per- ceived the moon half difengaged from the fhadow; at length it fhone with all its former luftre; that folitary planet purfued its courfe. My fpirits return- ed, 166 AN ECLIPLE OF THE MOON. ed, and I fprung from the grave. The freſhnefs of the air, the ferenity of the fky, the blushing rays of the morning, all re-animated me, and diffipated thoſe terrors that night had produced. I then regarded with a ſmile, the grave that had received me into its bofom. What was there fright- ful in it? It was the earth from whence I ſprung, and that demanded, after a time, the portion of clay it had lent me. I then faw none of thoſe phan- toms that the darkneſs had impreffed on my credu- lous imagination. It is that, that alone, which pro- duces inaufpicious images. I expected, in this ac- cident, to have known what was death. I fell into the grave with the terror of that which is, perhaps the fole fupport againſt the troubles of this life; but there I only experienced a gentle and, in fome degree, even a pleaſing flumber. If this fcene was terrible, it lafted but a moment; it fcarce exifted for me. I awaked to the brightneſs of a ferene and pleafing day. I have baniſhed a childish terror, and joy has taken poffeffion of my whole heart. So after that. tranfient fleep, which men call death, we ſhall awake to behold the fplendor of that eternal fun, that by elucidating the immenfe fyftem of beings, fhall dif cover to us the folly of our timorous prejudices, and an inexhauftible and unknown fource of felicity, whoſe courſe nothing can ever interrupt. Therefore, mortal, that thou mayeft dread nothing, be virtuous! Whilft thou paffeft through the ſhort path of life, put thy heart in a condition to fay to thee, ~ THE KING'S LIBRARY. 167 thee, "Fear nothing; advance under the eye of a "God, that is the univerfal father of mankind; in- "ſtead of regarding him with terror, adore his "bounty, and rely on his clemency; have the confi- "dence of a fon that loves, and not the terror of a "flave that trembles, becauſe he is guilty. ? : CHAP. XXVIII. THE KING'S LIBRARY. AN unlucky door, placed near to my pillow, by creeking on its hinges, totally difconcerted my ideas. I loft fight of my guide, and of the city; but as the mind is continually agitated by the ſcene that has once made a ftrong impreffion, I happily return- ed to my dream. I was now quite alone; it was broad day; and by a natural propenfity I found myſelf in' the king's library; but more than once was I under the neceffity of affuring myſelf that it was fo. In the room of thofe four galleries of an immenſe length, and which contained many thouſands of volumes, I could only find one fmall cloſet, in which were feveral books that feemed to me far from vo. luminous. Surpriſed at ſo great a change, I ventured to aſk if fome fatal conflagration had not devoured that rich collection." Yes," they replied, "It was 66 a 168 THE KING's LIBRARY. "a conflagration; but by our hands was it defign- edly illumined."-Perhaps I have forgot to tell you, that theſe are the moſt affable people in the world; that they flew a very particular regard for age; and that they do not reply to enquiries, in the manner of the French, by anfwering with a queſtion. The Librarian who was a man of real learning, prefented himſelf to me; and well confidering all the objections, as well as reproaches that I made, he gave me the following account. "Convinced, by the most strict obfervation that the mind is embaraffed by a thouſand extrinfic difficulties, we were ſenſible that a numerous library was the feat of the greateſt extravagancies and the moſt idle chimeras. In your time, to the diſgrace of reaſon, men firſt wrote and then thought. We follow the oppofite courfe; and have therefore deſtroyed all thoſe authors who buried their thoughts under a monstrous heap of words or phraſes. } "Nothing leads the mind farther aftray than bad books; for the first notions being adopted without attention, the fecond become precipitate conclufions; and men thus go on from prejudice to prejudice, and from error to error. What remained for us to do, but to rebuild the structure of human knowledge? This project appeared of infinite labour; but, in fact, we found it only neceffary to deſtroy thofe uſeleſs fabrics that hid from us the true point of view; as the Louvre became a new building by fweeping away the ruins that furrounded it. The fciences, amidſt this labyrinth of books, were in a perpetual circula- 4. tion, 1 1 ! THE KING's LIBRARY. 169 tion, returning inceffantly to the fame point; and the exaggerated idea of their riches ferved only to conceal their real indigence. "In fact, what did that multitude of volumes con- tain? For the most part, nothing more than perpe- tual repetitions of the fame thing. Philofophy. preſented itſelf to us under the image of a ftatue, always celebrated, always copied, but never embel- lifhed; it appeared ftill more perfect in the original. It feemed to degenerate in all the copies of filver and gold that have fince been made of it; doubtleſs, it was more beautiful when carved in wood by a hand almoſt ſavage, than when covered with extrinfic ornaments. Since men, from a wretched indolence, have given themfelves up to the opinion of others, they have neceffari'y become more fervile imitators, deftitute of invention and originality. What im- menfe projects, what fublime fpeculations, have been extinguiſhed by the breath of opinion! Time has brought down to us nothing but thoſe empty, glaring notions that have been applauded by the multitude, while it has ſwallowed up thofe ftrong and bold thoughts, which were too fimple to pleaſe the vulgar. "As our days are fhort, and ought not to be con- fumed in a puerile philofophy, we have given a dè- cifive ftroke to the miferable controverfics of the fchools."-What have you done? Proceed if you pleafe. By an unanimous confent, we brought together, on a va plain, all thofe books which we judged 17,0 THE KING's LIBRARY. judged either frivolous, ufelefs, or dangerous; of theſe we formed a pyramid, that refembled, in height and bulk, an enormous tower; it was certainly an- other Babel. Journals crowned this ſtrange edifice; and it was covered, on all fides, with ordinances of bifhops, remonftrances of parliaments, petitions, and funeral orations; it was compofed of five or fix hun- dred thouſand commentators, of eight hundred thouſand volumes of law, of fifty thoufand dictio- naries, of a hundred thouſand poems, of fixteen hun- dred thouſand voyages and travels, and of a millard* of romances. This tremendous maſs was ſet on fire, and offered as an expiatory facrifice to veracity, to good ſenſe, and true tafte. The flames greedily de- voured the follies of mankind, as well ancient as modern; the fire continued long. Some authors. faw themſelves burning alive; their cries, however, could not extinguifh the flames. We found notwith- ſtanding, amidſt the embers, fome page of the works of P————, of De la H, of the abbé A————; for A- they were fo extremely frigid, that the fire could have no effect on them. 1 "We have therefore done from an enlightened zeal, what the barbarians once did from one that was blind: however, as we are neither unjust, nor like the Saracens, who heated their baths with the chief d'oeuvres of literature, we have made an elec- tion; thofe of the greatest judgment amongst us have extracted the fubftance of thouſands of volumes, which * A thouſand millions. THE KING's LIBRARY. 171 which they have included in a ſmall duodecimo; not unlike thoſe ſkillful chemiſts, who concentre the vir- tues of many plants in a ſmall phial, and caft afide. the refufe*. "We have abridged what feemed of moſt im- portance; the beſt have been reprinted; and the whole corrected according to the true principles of morality. Our compofers are a fet of men eftima- ble and dear to the nation; to knowledge they have. added tafte; and as they are capable of producing, they have made a judicious feledion. We have re- marked, to ſpeak justly, that it appertains to the ages of philofophy only, to produce a ſmall number of works. In yours, when real knowledge was not fufficiently established, it was neceffary to bring toge ther a great number of materials. The labourer muſt work before the architect. "At On this globe, all is revolution: the minds of men vary to an infinity the national character, alter books, and make them no longer to be known. Is there any one author, if he reflects, that can reaſonably indulge himſelf in the hope of not being defpifed by the next generation? Do we not deride our anceſtors? Can we fay what progress our children may make? Have we any idea of the fecrets that may ſuddenly ſpring from out of the bofom of nature Do we completely know the extent of the human underſtand- 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 phyfics prefent us an ocean with whofe coafts we are yet ſcarce acquainted? How ridicu- lous, therefore, is that pride, which ignorantly pretends to preſcribe the bounds of any art. e 2 172 THE KING's LIBRARY. "At the beginning, each ſcience is treated in parts; every one applies his attention to that portion which has fallen to his lot. By this method the ſma left details are obſerved; nothing can efcape. It was neceffary for you to make an innumerable quantity of books; it is our bufinefs to collect the fcattered parts The ignorant babble eternally; the learned and fagacious fpeak little, but well. "This cloſet, that you fee, contains thoſe books that have eſcaped the flames. Their number is ſmall; but by their merit they have obtained the approba tin of our age." I approached with curiofity: and on examining the fuft divifion, I found that of the Greeks, they had preferved Homer, Sophocles, Euripides, De- mofthenes, Plato, and particularly our friend Plu- tarch; but they had burned Herodotus, Sappho, Anacreon, and the vile Ariftophanes. I would have defended in fome, degree the caufe of Anacreon; but I was anſwered by the belt reafons in the world, though fuch as I fhall not here mention, becauſe they would not be intelligible to the prefent age. In the fecond divifion appropriated to the Latin authors, I found Virgil, Pliny, and Titus Livy * entire; but they had burned Lucretius, except fome poetic paffages, becauſe his phyfics they found falfe, * I have lately read this hiftorian again; and I am con- vinced, that the virtue of the Romans confilled in facrificing the human race on the altar of their country. As citizens, they are to be applauded; as men, to be abhorred. and THE KING'S LIBRARY. 173 1 and his morals dangerous. They had deftroyed the tedious pleadings of Cicero, an able rhetor rather than a man of eloquence; but they had pre- ſerved his philofophic works, one of the moſt precious productions of antiquity. Salluft alfo remained. Ovid and Horace* were purged; the odes of the latter appeared far inferior to his Epiftles. 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 nouriſh a baſe idea of mankind, 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 Petronius had vanifhed in fmoke. Quintilian was reduced to a volume of the ſmalleſt fize. The third divifion contained the Engliſh authors, and here I found the greatest number of volumes. Here I faw all thofe philofophers that warlike, com- merciant, and politic ifle hath produced; Milton, Shakeſpeare, Pope, Young†, and Richardfon, here ftill * This writer had all the delicacy, all the flowers of wit, every poffible urbanity; he has, nevertheless, been too much admired in every age. His mufe inſpires a volup- tuous repoſe, a lethargic flumber, a pliant and dangerous indifference; it therefore, muſt pleaſe the courtier and effeminate mind, whofe whole morality is confined to the prefent moment, and to the enjoyment of foft and ſolitary pleafures. † M. Tourneur had publiſhed a tranſlation of this poet, which has had the greateſt and moſt determined fuccefs. Eve- 1 Q3 ry 174 THE KING'S LIBRARY. ftill enjoyed their full renown; their creative genius knew no reſtraint, while we are obliged to meaſure all our words; the fruitful energy of thofe free fouls was ry one has read this moral work; (the author muſt here allude to the Night Thoughts,) every one admires that ſublime lan- guage, which elevates, cheers, and captivates the foul; becauſe it is founded on great truths, prefents great objects only, and derives all its dignity from their real grandeur. For my own part, I have never read any thing ſo original, fo new, nor even fo intereſting. I admire that profound fentiment, which, though always the fame, yet has an in- finity of connexions and diverſities; it is a ftream by which I am borne down;' I am pleaſed with thofe ftrong and Jively images whofe boldneſs correfpond with the fubject to which they are applied. We there fee, moreover, the moſt demonſtrative proofs of the immortality of the foul; in no part is the mind fo much ftruck as in this; the poet attacks the heart, fubdues it, and deprives it of all power of contradiction; fuch is the magic of expreffion, the force of eloquence, that it leaves a poignant fenfation in the mind. t Young is in the right, in my judgment, (though in the tranflator's note, cenfure has extorted a different opinion) when he afferts, that, without the profpect of eternity and future rewards, virtue would be but a name, a chimera : Aut virtus nomen inane eft, aut decus et pretium recte petit experiens vir. What is that good from which there refults 、 no good, either in this world or in the other? What good refults, in this world, from virtue to fuffering innocence ? Afk of a dying Brutus, a Cato, a Socrates. You there fee floiciſm at its laft proof, and there it fairly diſcovers the vanity of the fect. I remember, and ever fhall remember, a ftriking expreſſion of J. J. Rouſſeau to a friend of mine. He was fpeaking of a propofition made to him of making his THE KING's LIBRARY. 175 was the admiration of a difficult age. That futile reproach we make them, of their want of taſte, was difregarded by men, who, charmed with juft and ftrong ideas, could read with affiduity, and knew how his fortune by a means that was difgraceful, but of a nature to be kept feeret, "Sir," he ſaid, "thank God, I am not a materialiſt; if I were, I fhould not be worth more than all of them are. I know of no reward, but that which is attached to virtue." } I freely confefs, that I am not more worthy than Rouffeau; and would to God, that I were as worthy! but, if I thought myſelf altogether mortal, I would inſtantly become my own deity; I would make all things fubfervient to my divinity, that is, to myſelf: I would practiſe what they call virtue, when it promoted my pleafure; and, in like manner, vice. I would rob to day, to give to my friend or miſtrefs; quar- rel with, and rob them to morrow, to gratify ſome trifling pleaſure; and in all this I ſhould act very confequentially, becauſe I ſhould always do that which is agreeable to my divinity; whereas, by loving virtue for the fake of a reward, and that reward not being attached to arbitrary actions, I I am obliged to govern myſelf, not by momentary inclina- tion, but by that invariable rule which the Eternal Legif- lator and Remunerator has preſcribed. It will therefore frequently happen, that I muſt do what I ought, though not what I pleaſe; and, if my liberty decides for that which is right, in oppofition to a contrary inclination, then I do that which I would, not that with which I am pleaſed. If it had been the will of God to direct us by a love for goodneſs only, he would have given us a rational mind, without having added the ſenſibility of the heart; but he guides us by the proſpect of rewards, becauſe he has made us liable to paſ- fions and affections. 176 THE KING's LIBRARY. how to meditate on what they had read. They had, however, 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 fubtilities; for no argument could convince them that virtue was a chimera. In the fourth divifion were the Italian authors. The Jerufalem Delivered, that moft beautiful of all poems, was at the head of them. They had, how- ever, burned a whole library of criticiſms againſt that enchanting poem. The celebrated Treatife on Crimes and Puniſhments had received all the perfection of which that important work was fufceptible. I was agreeably ſurpriſed to ſee a number of judicious and philofophic works, which had arofe from out the bofom of that nation. They had broke that taliſman which feemed to promiſe a perpetuity of ignorance and fuperftition amongst them. At last, I came to the French writers. I haftily feized the firſt three volumes; they were Defcartes, Montaigne, and Charron. Montaigne had fuffered ſome retrenchment; but as he is the philofopher, who of all others was the best acquainted with human nature, his writings were preferved, though all his ideas are not abfolutely irreproachable. The vi- fionary Mallebranche, the gloomy Nicole, the un- pitying Arnauld, and the cruel Bourdaloue, they had burned. All that related to fcholaftic difputes was fo completely deftroyed, that when I spoke of the THE KING's LIBRARY. 177 the Provencial Letters and the deftruction of the Jefuits, the learned librarian made a very great ana- chroniſm, of which I informed him, and received a candid acknowledgment. I could never meet with thofe Provencial Letters, nor the most modern hiſtory of that grand affair; they talked of the Jefuits, as we at this day do of the Druids. Into an oblivion, from whence they fhould never come forth, were caft that crowd of thelogians called fathers of the church, writers the molt fophiftic, the moſt whimsical, obfcure, and irrational, that were ever diametrically oppofed to Locke or Clerke. "They feem," faid the librarian, "to have fet bounds to human infanity." I fearched for, I examined the authors of my ac- quaintance. Heavens! what deftruction! what mighty works evaporated in fimoke! Where is that famous Bouffet, who, in my time, figured in fourteen quarto volumes? I was answered, "They are all vaniſhed.”—What! that eagle who foared to the highest 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 fuch men as Luther, Calvin, Melancton, Eraſmus, Bouffet, Pafchal, Arnauld, Nicole, &c. if they had em- ployed their genius in attacking the errors of the human mind, in improving morality, legiſlation and phyſics, inſtead of oppoling or cftabliſhing ridiculous dogmas! > 178 THE KING's LIBRARY. We have adopted the maxim of Montaigne: Let us not inquire who is the moft learned, but who is the best learned. The univerfal hiftory of that Bouffet was nothing more than a miferable ſkeleton of chrono. logy*. It had befide, a turn fo affected, and there were ſo many reflections of immoderate length, that accompanied that meagre production, that we can fcarce think it was read for more than half a cen- tury."But, at leaft, his Funeral Orations-" We are highly incenfed againſt them; they breathe the miferable language of fervitude and adulation. Shall a miniſter of the God of peace, of the God of truth, mount the pulpit to extol a gloomy politician, an avaricious ſtateſman, a mean woman, a blood-thirſty hero; and agitated like a poet with the defcription. of a battle, never utter one figh when thinking on that horrid ſcourge that defolates the earth. At that moment, he has no thought of maintaining the laws of humanity, of declaring to an ambitious monarch, by the facred voice of religion, ſtrong and terrible truths; he rather wishes to hear it faid, That man talks well; he makes the encomiums of the dead, while their afbes * To give an air of truth to chronology, they have form- ed certain epochs; and on this delufive foundation they have erected that inaginary fcience, which has been en- tirely directed by caprice. They know not to what period they ſhould refer the principal revolutions of the world, and yet they would fix the age in which each king reigned. The greateſt errors reſt ſecure by means of chronological calculations. They fet out, for example, from the foun- dation of Rome; and that foundation is ſupported by pro- babilities, or rather ſuppoſitions. THE KING'S LIBRARY. 179 afbes are yet warm. With much better reafon would he give a good dose of incenfe to monarchs that are ftill living. "We are no friends to Bouffet; for he was not only a man proud and obdurate, a courtier fawning- and ambitious, but to him alfo we owe thofe funeral orations, which have fince multiplied like funeral torches, and which, like them, exhale a noxious vapour as they pafs. This fpecies of flattery ap pears to us the most odious, futile, and dangerous of all others; for it is at once falfe, ftupid, and ſhame- lefs, and conftantly contradicts the public voice, which echoes againſt thoſe walls where the orator, whilſt pompously declaiming, inwardly laughs at thofe falfe colours with which he has dreffed out his idel. "Behold his rival, his gentle and modeſt con- queror, the amiable, the pathetic Fenelon. His Telemachus and other works we have carefully pre- ferved, becauſe in them we find a rare and happy agreement between reafon and fenfibility*. To have compofed * 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 fubjects that cannot be treated in their full extent ? I admire, however, this fpecies of writing, where, by in- veſtigating the genius of a great man, the art itſelf is in- veſtigated and exemplified. We have had excellent works of this kind, and eſpecially thofe of M. Thomas, which is the $ 180 THE KING's LIBRARY. compofed the Telemachus at the court of Lewis XIV. appears to us an admirable, aftonishing virtue. Certainly that monarch did not comprehend the book: and that is the moſt favourable ſuppoſition we can make for his honour. Doubtlefs, that work re- quired a more extenſive knowledge, a more profound penetration; but, with all its fimplicity, what force, what truth, what dignity is there difplayed! We have placed next to his, the works of the good abbé St. Pierre, whofe pen was weak, but his heart fub- lime. Seven ages have given to his great and beau- tiful ideas a juft maturity. His cotemporaries re- garded him as a vifionary: his dreams, however, have become realities." Among the French poets, I found Corneille, Ra- cine, and Moliere; but their commentators were burned*. I aſked a queſtion of the librarian, that will probably be aſked feven centuries hence. To which the most inftructive book we can put into the hands of a young man, and from which he may draw at once uſeful knowledge and a rational love for glory. * They are the works of envy or ignorance. Theſe com- mentators, with their zeal for the laws of grammar, excite my pity. The worst defliny that can attend any man of genius, either living or dead, is to be judged by pedantifim, which fees nothing, and feels nothing, Thefe wretched critics, who creep from word to word, reſemble thofe pur- blind mortals, who miferably pore over every ftroke of a pic- ture of Le Seucr or Pouffin, inftead of embracing the whole at one view. 2 THE KING's LIBRARY. 181 : which of the three do you give the preference?- « We underſtand but little of Moliere," he replied; "the manners that he painted are paft; he feems to us to have attacked ridicule more than vice, and you had more vicious than ridiculous qualities*. For the two tragedians, whofe colours are more durable, I know not how a man of your age can aſk the quef- tion. He who excelled all others in painting the human heart, who elevated and enlarged the mind to the greatest degree; he who was the beſt ac- quainted with the fhocks of paffion and the depths of policy, had doubtless more genius than his har- monious rival†, who, with a ſtyle more correct and flowing, had lefs of force and concifion, who had not the piercing view, nor the elevation, nor the fire, nor the argument, nor the amazing diverfity of cha- racters, of the other. Add to this the moral aim, conſtantly 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 of the ridiculous is more cafy than that of the vicious. But, if it were, to which diforder of the human heart fhould we firſt apply remedies? Shall the poet become an accomplice in the general perverſity, and be the firſt to adopt thoſe miſerable compacts, which bad men make the better to diſguiſe 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 fimplicity, and even fomething more natural than Racine. R 182 THE KING's LIBRARY. wards liberty. Racine, after effeminating his heroes, effeminated the fpectators*. Tafte is the art of ele- vating low fubjects; and in this Corneille was infe- rior to Racine. Time, that fovereign judge, who equally deſtroys both eulogies and cenfures, time has declared, and has placed a wide diſtance between them; the one is a genius of the first order; the other, fome few paffages borrowed from the Greek ex- cepted, is nothing more than a fine writer, as was obſerved in his own age. In your time, men had no longer the fame energy; they required finiſhed works, and the great has ever a certain roughneſs attending it; ftyle was then become the principal merit, as is conftantly the cafe with thofe nations that are enlee- bled and corrupted." I here found the terrible Crebillon, who has painted crimes in all thofe frightful colours by which they are characteriſed. This people fometimes read his works, but never fuffer them to be acted. A It is eaſy to be imagined, that I recollected my friend Fontaine, equally beloved and conſtantly read. *Racine and Boileau were two daftardly courtiers, who approached their monarch with the awe of two tradeſmen of the Rue St. Dennis. It was not fo that Horace fre- quented Auguftus. Nothing can be more mean than the letters of these two poets, in raptures to find themſelves at the court. It is difficult to conceive of more miferable pro- ductions. Racine at laſt died of chagrin, becauſe Louis XIV. caſt a contemptuous look at him in the public walks. I THE KING'S LIBRARY. 183 read*. Moliere, that juft judge of merit, prefented this firft of moral poets with inmortality. Fable, it is true, is the allegorical language of a flave, who dares not talk to his mafter; but at the fame time, as it moderates that feverity which there may be in truth, it must conftantly be highly valuable in a world expofed to all forts of tyrants. Satire is, per- haps, the weapon of defpair alone. How far has this age placed that inimitable fabulift above Boileaut, who, (as the bé Coftard fays) made himſelf the dictator of Parnaffus, and who, void of invention, force, grace, and fentiment, was nothing more than a tame and fcrupulous verfifier. They had preſerved ſeveral other fables, among which were fome by La Motte, and thcfe of Ni- vernoist. The * Fontaine was the confidant of nature, and merited, by pre-eminence, the title of poet. I am furprifed at the au- dacity of those who have fince wrote fables with the pre- fumption of imitating him. + The critic who only endeavours to depreciate an au- thor, inſtead of explaining him, diſcovers his own vanity, ignorance, and jealouſy. His malignity will not let him clearly diſcern the good and bad parts of a book. Criticifm belongs to them only whofe judgment and candour are not, in any degree, infected by perfonal intereſt. Critic, know thyfelf; and if thou wouldst form a right judgment of any work, remember, that depending on thy own lights only, thou canst judge of nothing. ‡ Seven hundred years hence, it will not be remem- bered, perhaps, that this charming fabulift was a duke, and R 2 wore 184 THE KING's LIBRARY. The poet Rouſſeau made a diminutive figure: they had preferved fome of his odes and cantatas, but all his gloomy epiftles, his tedious and dry alle- gories, his Mandragora, his epigrams, the work of a depraved heart, had all, it is eafy to imagine, pe- rifhed in thofe flames they had long deferved. I cannot here enumerate all the falutary mutilations that had been made in many works otherwife juftly renowned. I faw none of thofe frivolous poets, who flattered themſelves that the tafle of their age, which diffufed over the moſt ſerious fubjects that falfe var- niſh of wit which debaſes reaſon, would have pre- ferved them*. All theſe fallies of a light and giddy imagination, reduced to their juft value, were eva- porated, like thofe fparks that fhine with the greater luftre only to be the fooner extinguished. All thoſe writers of romances, whether hiſtoric, moral or po- litical, where fcattered truths are only to be met with by chance; and thoſe in which the object is not con- fidered in all its different points of view; and laftly, thofe who led aftray by a prejudice for a particular ſyſtem, had followed their own ideas only; all theſe authors, I fay, deluded by the abfence or prefence of genius, had diſappeared, or had undergone the pruning, knife of a judicious critic, which is far from being wore a blue ribband, but doubtless that he was a ſprightly philofopher. * When Hercules faw the flatue of his favourite Adonis, in the temple of Venus, he cried out, “There is no divi- nity in thee." The faine may be faid of all thoſe poliſhed, delicate, ingenious, and effeminate works. THE KING's LIBRARY. 185 being a fatal inſtrument*. Sagacity and a love of order had prefided over this new ftructure; as in thofe thick forefts where the branches, intwined with each other, conceal all the paths, and where there reigns an eternal and noxious fhade; if the induſtry of man bears the hatchet and the flame, the genial rays of the fun enter, the flowery paths recreate the fight, and we traverſe each route without fear or dif guft. I perceived in a corner a curious book which feemed to me judiciously compofed, and was intitled, Ufurped Reputations. It contained the reaſons that determined the extinction of many books, and of the contempt that was caft on the pen of certain writers, who were nevertheless admired in their own age. The fame book redreffed the wrongs of the cotem- poraries of great men, when their adverfaries were unjuſt, jealous, or blinded by fome other paffion†. I chanced to lay my hand on a Voltaire. O hea- vens! I cried, to what a fize is he fhrunk! Where are thofe twenty-fix quarto volumes that flowed from his brilliant, exhauſtleſs pen? If that celebrated wri- ter * It would be a work worthy of a man of found judg- ment, to form a rational and comprehenſive catalogue of the beſt books in every ſcience, and to point out the manner of reading them, and thofe paffages that are moft worthy of attention. “ There still remains a good book to be wrote, though already done; Great Events from little Caufes. But, where is the man who can difcover the real clue; I will mention another, very proper for the prefent age, The Placemen who become Perfecutors to ferve the Bafeness of those they deſpiſe; and one more, The Crimes of Sovereigns. R 3 186 THE KING's LIBRARY. ter could come again upon the earth, how would he be aftoniſhed!" We have been obliged to burn a large portion," was replied. "You know that fine genius paid a tribute fomewhat too large to human frailty. He precipitated his ideas, he gave them not time to ripen. He preferred whatever had the character of boldneſs, to a flow difcuffion of the truth. Rarely had his writings any depth. He was a rapid fwal. low that glanced with grace and eaſe along the fur- face of a large river, where he drank, and dipped his wings as he ſkimmed along. He was at once a man of genius and of wit. We cannot refufe him the firſt, the moſt noble and amiable of virtues, the love of humanity. He has combated with ardour for the intereſt of man. He not only detefted, but rendered deteftable, perfecution and tyranny of every kind, He brought a rational and affecting morality on the flage. He has painted heroiſm in its proper colours. In a word, he was the greateft poet of the French na tion. We have preferved his Epopex; for, though the plan be trifling, yet the name of Henry IV. has ren- dered it imɩnortal. We are, above all, captivated with his beautiful tragedies, in which there fhines a pencil fo facile, fo various and fo juft. We have alfo preſerved all his profe pieces, where he is not ridiculous, too fe- vere, or improperly fatyrical; it is there he is truly original*. But you know, that toward the fifteen laft *I am charmed with the painter of nature, who lets his pencil run freely over the cloth, who prefers a certain eaſy and bold liberty, that gives a luftre to his colours; to that frigid precifion, that tame regularity, which conftantly re- minds THE KING's LIBRARY. 187 laft years of his life, he had only a few remaining ideas which he reprefented under a hundred different faces. He perpetually retailed the fame fubject. He engaged in controverſies with thoſe he ought to have defpifed. He had the misfortune to write infipid and grofs reflections against J. J. Rouffeau; a furious jealouſy ſo far tranſported him, that he even wrote without judgment. We were obliged to burn thofe wretched performances, which would have difho- houred him to the moſt diſtant poſterity; ftill more jealous of his glory than he was himself, we have been obliged to deftroy one moiety of that great man to preſerve the other.” 1 I am minds me of the art and its fubterfuges. O, how brilliant is the writer who gives himſelf 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 pleaſed with a certain irregularity, and ne- ver fo engaging as when in diforder! Behold the man of fuperlative genius. A tedious fymmetry can pleafe none but fots. Every man of a lively imagination wiſhes that we would aid him with our wings. It is to this happy vi- vacity, which roufes the minds, that we owe the crowd of readers. Like the elementary fire, the writer fhould be for ever in action. But this fecret is communicated only to the few. The numbers labour, fweat, make a thouſand efforts to obtain a jelid perfection. He who is born to write in a bold, rapid, brilliant ftyle, above all rules, with the fame ftroke of his pen expreffes his idea and imprints it with pleaſure on the heart of his reader. Behold Voltaire, who, like a ftag, bounds over the plains of literature, while fome pretended imitator, fome congealed copyifts, fuch as La H***, comes, like a tortoife, creeping after. 188 THE KING's LIBRARY. I am charmed, I cried, to find, that you have pre- ferved J. J. Rouſſeau entire. What a work is the Emilius*! What a fenfibility of foul is diffuſed over that beautiful romance, the new Eloifa! What bold, comprehenfive, and penetrative ideas in his letters to De la Montagne! What vigor, what fire 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 muſt have been a very mean and cruel pride in your age. In fact, you muſt not have underſtood him; your trifling difpofition would not permit you to pursue his arguments. He had reafon to defpife you. Your philofophers themſelves were of the vul- 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 laft divifion, I faw with pleaſure many works formerly dear to my na- tion. L'Esprit des Loix; L'Hiftoire Naturelle; the. book De l'Esprit commented in fome parts t. Nor had they excluded the friend of man, the Belifarius;. the works of Linguet; the eloquent harangues of Thomas. • What infipidities have been printed againſt this immòr- tal work! How can a man dare to write when he knows not even how to read. + The fpider draws poiſon from the fame roſe whence the bee extracts honey; fo a bad man frequently nouriſhes his malignity from the fame book whence the good man derives the greateſt confolation. THE KING's LIBRARY. 187 Thomas*, St. Servan, Dupaty, Le Tourneur, and the difcourfer of Phocion. I diſtinguiſhed the nume rous and philofophic works that the age of Louis XV. had produced+. The Encyclopedia was formed on a new and more happy plan. Instead of that wretched practice of reducing all things to a diction- ary, that is, of mincing the ſeveral ſciences, they had preferved each art entire. With a fingle glance of the eye you faw all their different parts. This work contained vaſt and exact drafts that followed each other in a regular order, and were connected in a fim- ple and pleaſing manner. All that had been wrote against the Chriftian religion was burned, as books that were become abfolutely uſeleſs. I inquired for the hiftorians, and the librarian faid, "We affign that province in part to our painters. Facts have a philofophical certainty, which is to be expreffed by the pencil. What is hiftory? In reality nothing more than the knowledge of facts. The reflections and inferences appertain to the hiftorian, and not to the ſcience itself. The facts, however, are innumerable. What popular reports; what ſuper-. annuated fables; what endleſs details! The tranfac- tions * There is at preſent no tribune for harangues; eloquence however is not dead. It ſtill fpeaks, fometimes thunders; and though it cannot rouſe us to virtuous fentiments, yet, at leaſt, it confounds us with ſhame. + The philofopher who is employed in examining the nature of man, of policy and manners, diffuſes uſeful lights over the community; his detractors are either fots, or ma- lignant citizens. 190 THE KING's LIBRARY. tions of each age are the moſt intereſting of all others for the cotemporaries; and of all ages, thofe of the prefent only are not to be inveſtigated. They have wrote laboriouſly of ancient and foreign hiftory, but have turned their attention from prefent facts*. The fpirit of conjecture is difplayed at the expence of accuracy. Many have fo little known their own weakneſs, that feveral fingle pens have attempted an univerfal hiftory, more romantic than the good Indians, who allowed at least four elephants to fup. port the world. In a word, hiftory has been fo disfigured, ſo ftuffed with falſehoods and puerile re- flections, that a romance to every judicious mind, is more eligible than thofe collections of facts, where, as on a boundleſs ocean, we fail without a compasst. "We have made a flight extract, painting cach age in ftrong characters, and defcribing thoſe per- fons *This is natural enough in France, where there is fo much danger in writing on recent facts; but, to our good fortune, it it not fo here. + When we reflect on the nature of the human mind, we muſt be convinced of the impoſſibility of a real ancient hiftory. The modern is more probable; but between pro- bability and truth there is almoft as great a diſtance, as between truth and falfehood. Moreover, we learn nothing from modern hiftories. Each hiftorian accomodates the facts to his ideas, almoſt in the fame manner as a cook does the dishes to his palate; we must dine in the tafte of the cook: we muſt read in the humour of the hiſtorian. 1 THE KING'S LIBRARY. 191 fons only who have had a real influence on the deſtiny of empires*. We have omitted thofe reigns where there were nothing to be ſeen 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 exceffes to which vice has been extended. The number of the guilty feems to palliate the crime; and the fewer outrages we ſee, the lefs we are tempted to commit them. We have treated human nature like that fon who revered his father, and covered with a vail the diforders of ebriety." 11 I approached the librarian, and aſked in a low voice, for the age of Louis XV. which might ſerve as a continuation to that of Louis XIV. by Voltaire. I found that it had been compofed in the twentieth century. Never have I read any thing more curious, more fingular and aftoniſhing. The hiftorian, from a regard to the extravagance of the circumſtances, had not facrificed any detail. My curiofity, my aftoniſhment redoubled at every page. I was taught to reform many of my ideas; and to know, that the age in which we live, is, of all others, the most diftant from * To fay the reign of Charles VI. or Louis XIII. is a mifnomer, and muſt miſlead the unattentive reader. A monarch, who has no influence on the age in which he lives, as is frequently the cafe, fhould be ranked in the clafs of common men, and we fhould fay, for example, after the death of Henry IV. We shall now deſcribe the age of Riche- lieu, &c. 192 THE MEN OF LETTERS. from us. I laughed, I admired greatly; but I wept at leaſt as much. . I can fay no more here; the events of the prefent day are like fruit that ſhould not be taſted till it is ripe*. } CHAP. XXIX. THE MEN OF LETTERS. As I went out of the library, a ftranger ac- cofted me, and we entered into converfation. It was concerning men of letters. I have known but few in my time, I ſaid, but thofe I have known were gentle, modeft, friendly, and full of probity. If they had defects, they redeemed them by fo many valuable properties, that a man must be incapable of friendſhip who had not an attachment to them. Envy, ignorance, and calumny have disfigured the characters of authors; for every public man is expofed to the brutal difcourfe of the vulgar, who, however ignorant they may be, pronounce boldlyt. The great, as deftitute, for the moſt part * Time produces all things. Thofe fecrets which are thought to be completely concealed will offer themſelves to the public, as the rivers run into the fea. To our children all will be known. + A man of this clafs, who is incapable of writing á fingle line, but has a talent for verbal fatire, in confequence of THE MEN OF LETTERS. 193 part, of talents as of virtue, are jealous of their at- tracting the regard of the nation, and pretend to def- pife them*. Writers have alfo frequently to combat with the contemptible taſte of the public, who, the more it is enriched by their works, becomes the more fparing of its applaufe, and fometimes abandoning works of ridiculing authors and gratifying malignity, becomes at laft perfuaded, that he is himſelf a man of taſte and in- genuity; but he is miferably deceived, both in judging of himſelf and of others. * It is not to the moſt powerful monarchs, nor to the moſt opulent princes, nor to the chief rulers of a nation, that moſt ſtates owe their fplendor, force and glory. It is pri- vate perfons, who have made the moſt aſtoniſhing improve- ments in the arts, in fciences, and even in the art of govern- ment. Who meaſured the earth? Who difcovered the fyftem of the heavens? Who invented thofe curious manu- factures with which we are cloathed? Who has laid open the fecrets of natural hiſtory? Who has explored the in- tricacies of chemistry, anatomy, and botany? Certainly private perfons; who, in the eye of the wife man, muſt eclipſe the pretenders to greatnefs, thofe proud dwarfs, who cherish nothing but their own vanity. In effect, it is not kings, miniſters, perſons inveſted with authority that govern the world. No, it is thofe men of fuperior genius, who cry to their cotemporaries, with their bold and irreſiſtible voice, Baniſh thoſe wretched prejudices; purſue more eleva- ted thoughts, defpife what thou hafl forlishly respected, and refpe&t that which, through ignorance, thou haft deſpiſed; profit by thy past fllies, and learn better to distinguish the rights of mankind; adopt the ideas that I have ſet before thee. Thy route is clearly traced, march! And I will answer for thy fuccefs. S 1 THE MEN OF LETTERS. 194 works of genius, run gaping after fome wretched buffoonery. In a word, they have need of the greateſt fortitude to fupport themſelves in a carcer, where the pride of mankind offers them a thouſand indignities. They have, however, braved both the infolence and difdain of the great, and the ignorant attacks of the vulgar. A juft renown, by blafting their enemies, has crowned their noble efforts with fuccefs. "I acknowledge this portrait to be juft," my in- terlocutor politely replied. "Men of letters are be- come the moſt refpectable of citizens. Every one feels how defirable it is to be diffolved in tenderness; it is the moſt lively pleaſure the mind can enjoy. It is to them, therefore, that the ftate has confided the care of developing this principle of virtue. By ex- hibiting majeſtic, terrible, and tender pictures, and by improving the fenfibility of mankind, they dif- pofe them to all thofe great qualities that proceed from it. "We find," he continued, "that the writers of your age, as to what concerns morality, and grand and uſeful purfuits, have far furpaffed thofe of the age of Lewis XIV. They have freely painted the faults of kings, the misfortunes of the people, the ravages of the paffions, the efforts of virtue, and even the fuccefs of vice; faithful to their vocation*, they have had the intrepidity to infult thofe *The famous Locufta, fkilful in the art of preparing fubtle poifons, was lodged by Nero in his palace; and ſo defirous THE MEN OF LETTERS. 195 thofe bloody trophies which fervility and error had confecrated to tyranny. Never was the caufe of humanity more ſtrongly pleaded; and though they have loft it by an inconceivable fatality, yet theſe dauntless advocates remain not the lefs covered with glory. "All the ftreams of light that have iffued from thefe vigorous and undaunted fouls, are preferved and tranfmitted from age to age*: like a feed that is for a long time trod under foot, but being fuddenly tranfported by a favourable wind to fome place of fhelter, defirous was he of preferving a woman ſo uſeful to his de- figns, that he appointed guards to attend her. It was fhe who compofed the cup by which Britannicus periſhed. When the poifon had blackened the vifage of that unfor- tunate prince, Nero cauſed it to be ſpread over with white paint, fo that it appeared with the palenefs of a natural death; but, as they bore it to the tomb, a fudden and co- pious ſhower of rain waſhed off the paint, and expoſed what the tyrant thought he had fafely concealed. I find in this fact an allegory fufficiently juft. Princes fondly carefs faith- ful monfters; and either from ſtupidity, or contempt of the laws, or a confidence in their own power, they think to con- ceal their real qualities from the public; but foon hiſtory, the fudden fhower, washes off the falfe colours, and all their vices ſtand full expoſed to view. * 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 connections of fpeculation and fcience with the riches and happineſs of a nation. S 2 196 THE MEN OF LETTERS. fhelter, it fprings up, increaſes, becomes a tree, whofe fpreading branches prefent both ornament and refuge. "If, better informed of the nature of true great- nefs, we defpife the pomp and oftentation of power; if we turn our eyes towards thofe objects that are worthy the reſearch of men; we fhall find that it is to letters we owe it*. Our writers have ftill fur- paffed yours in courage if a prince deviates from the laws, they revive the renowned tribunal of the Chinefe; they engrave his name on a dreadful plate of brass, by which his difgrace is eternally recorded. Hiſtory in their hands is the rock to falfe glory, the fentence paffed on illuftrious criminals, the crucible from 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 affected by con- ftraint *We may affert, with a degree of certainty, that the new lights, which are every day difcovered, defcending by de- grees in almost every ſtate, will, by a fure method annihi- late the prefent capricious jumble of laws, and ſubſtitute others more natural and more juft; 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 ſervice to humanity. Let us therefore con- tinue to print; and let every one from the higheſt to the loweſt, read; but, at the ſame time, let us print that only which is true and uſeful; and let us well meditate before we write. THE MEN OF LETTERS. 197 Have ftraint and diffimulation, to be confounded! they not always with them thofe dumb but indepen- dent and intrepid orators, who can, without offence, inftru&t them, and who from their thrones, have nei- ther favours to expect nor difgrace to fear*? We ought to render that juftice to thofe noble writers, to acknowledge that there is no race of men who have better fulfilled their deftination. Some have over- thrown fuperftition, others fupported the rights of the people. Theſe have dug the fruitful mine of mo- rality, thoſe diſplayed virtue under the figure of an indulgent fenfibility. We have forgot the foibles which they might have as private perfons; we ſee that mafs of light only which they have formed and aggran * The Prometheus of Efchylus contains a beautiful and clear allegory. It is that of an arbitrary monarch cruſhing a man of genius; for having brought down fire from hea- ven, with which he enlightened mankind, he is fixed to the fummit of a rock; being flowly fcorched by the fun's rays, the colour of his body is changed; the nymphs of the woods and fields furround him with lamentations but are unable to affift him; the Furies load him with irons that eat into his fcf; but a remorſe for having been virtuous can never enter his heart. + How great the 'recompence to an author who is the friend of truth and virtue, when, as we read, we drop the burning tear upon his book, and, at the faine moment draw from the bottom of the heart the ſtruggling figh; then cloſe the book, and, lifting our eyes to heaven, form ardent vir- tuous refolutions! This, doubtlefs, is the moſt brilliant re- ward that any writer ought to wiſh. What, to this, are the difcordant ſhouts of applaufe, as empty as they are tranfi- tory, as envied as they are uncertain. • S 3 198 THE MEN OF LETTERS. aggrandifed, that moral fun, which can never be extinguished but with the grand luminary of the univerfe." How glad fhould I be to enjoy the prefence of thoſe great men for I have ever had a ſtrong attraction towards writers of real merit; I love to fee them, but ftill more to hear their diſcourſe." It happens right luckily; to-day they open the academy, in order to receive a man of letters."-In the room, doubtleſs, of one that deceafed." What fay you? Muſt merit wait till death-has deftroyed his fellow, that he may fupply his place? No; the number of our academi- cians is not fixed; every talent receives the crown of its reward; there are fufficient to recompenfe them all* " CHAP. An author who is not much influenced by perfonal motives, will not give himſelf great concern to think that he is a writer of merit in an ignorant age; if he be more defirous of the progreſs of human knowledge, than of gra- tifying his own vanity, inſtead of being afflicted, he will re- joice that he cannot launch forth from his obfcurity. *[ 199 ] CHAP. XXX. THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. WE advanced toward the academy. It ſtill preferved that name; but how different its fituation 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 fits in the place of the Cæfars! ignorance and ſuperſti- tion inhabit Athens! the fine arts have flown to Ruffia! Would it have been believed in my time, that a mountain marked with ridicule for merely af- fording nurture to a few affes by its thiſtles, fhould become the juft image of the ancient Parnaffus, the feat of genius, the habitation of renowned writers? They would have abolished the name of Mont- martre*, but from a complaifance to received pre- judices. This auguft spot, clothed on all fides by venerable woods, is confecrated to folitude; an exprefs law for- bids the approach of all difcordant noife. The earth. has produced freſh beds of ſtone to form the founda- tions of this noble afylum. On this mount, bleffed with the most genial rays of the fun, are nouriſhed fair trees, whofe towering fummits fometimes em- brace * The hill Montmartre is on the north fide of Paris, and aſmoſt adjoining to it. They fay, that on its fummit there was once a temple dedicated to Mars, from which it took its name. 200 THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. brace each other, and ſometimes at diftance keep, to afford the exploring eye a profpect of the face of heaven As I mounted with my guide, I obferved, here and there, elegant hermitages diftinct from each other." I aſked who inhabited thoſe flowery ſpots, half con- cealed by the woods, and half expofed to view, whofe aſpect appeared fo engaging." You fhall foon know," was replied; "let us now haften; the hour approaches." In fact, I faw a great number of per- fons arrive from every fide, not in coaches, but on foot. Their converfation feemed to be highly plea- fing and animated. We entered an edifice fuffi- ciently large, but decorated with great fimplicity. I obferved no Swifs, armed with a heavy halberd, at the door of the tranquil fanctuary of the Mufes; there was nothing to forbid entrance amidst a crowd of worthy men*. The hall was remarkably fonorous; fo that the moſt feeble academic voice might be heard at the greateſt diſtance. The order that there reigned was not lefs remarkable; feveral rows of benches fur- rounded the hall; for they knew that the ear fhould be at its eafe in an academy, as the eye in the faloon of a painter * I have ever been highly curious to fee a man of genius, and have thought that I diſcovered in his port, his actions, the air of his head, his countenance, and afpect, fomething that diſtinguiſhed him from the common race of men. The ſcience of phyfiognomy ſtill remains to be properly inveſ tigated. 6 THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. 201 a painter. I confidered every object at my leifure. The number of academics feats was not ridiculoufly fixed; but what feemed moft fingular was, that, on the back of each chair a feroll was displayed, on which were diftinaly wrote the titles of that acade- mician who chofe it for his feat; every one might place himſelf in an armed chair without any other previous ceremony than that of diſplaying the fcroll that contained the title of his works. It is easy to conceive, that no one offered to diſplay a charte blanché, as was done in my day, by bishops, marfhals, and preceptors*; ftill lefs would they dare to ex- pofe to the fevere public eye the title of a work of mean merit, or a fervile imitation; it muſt be a work that points out fome new difcovery in the arts, or, at least, that excels all others on the fame fubject. My * We have ſeen on the Boulevards, (the old ramparts of Paris which now ferve for recreation,) an automaton that articulated founds, and the people flock to admire it. How inany automata, with human faces, do we fee at court, at the bar, in the academies, who owe their fpeech to the breath of inviſible agents; when they ceafe, the machines remain dumb. + There are no longer any means left to diſtinguiſh our- felves, they fay. Wretches! that hunt after ſmoke, the path of virtue ſtill lies before you; there you will find but few.competitors; but that is not the fort of glory that you feek. I underſtand you; you would become the fubject of popular difcourfe. I figh for you, and for the human race. 202 THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. My guide pulled me by the fleeve-" You feem aſtoniſhed; let me increaſe your wonder. Thoſe charming habitations which you obſerved on aſcend- ing the mountain, form the retreats of thofe who are ftruck by an unknown power that commands them to write. Our academicians are Carthufians*; it is in folitude that genius difplays its powers, for- fakes the beaten path, and difcovers unknown regions. When does enthuliafm fpring forth? When the author defcends into himself, when he inveftigates his own foul, that profound mind, of whofe value the poffeffor is not unfrequently ignorant. What inſpirers are retreat and friendſhip†! What more is neceffary to thoſe who ſearch for nature and truth? Where do we hear their fublime voice? In the tumult of cities, amidst that crowd of low pursuits, that, unknown to ourſelves, befiege the heart? No; it is amidſt the rural fcenes that the foul rejuvenates; it is there that it contemplates the majefty of the uni- verfe, that majefty, eloquent, and all-gracious; the thought ftrikes, the expreffion glows; the image and its fplendor become widely extended, like the horizon that furrounds us. "In * Let him who would acquire a ftrength of mind, affiduouſly exert its powers; the greateſt fluggard is ever the greateſt flave. Man has much longer time to live with the mind than with the fenfes; he would therefore act wilely to depend for his pleaſures on the former rather than on the latter. THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. 203 "In your days, the men of letters frequented the circles to amuſe the coquettes, and obtain an equivo- cal fmile; they facrificed all that was bold and manly to the fuperftitious empire of fashion; they diveſted the foul of its real nature, to pleaſe the age. Inſtead of looking forward to an auguft feries of ages, they rendered themſelves flaves to a momentary tafte. In a word, they purfued ingenious falfehoods; they flifled that inward voice which cries, Be fevere as the time that flies; be inexorable as poflerity. "Thefe academics, moreover, here enjoy that happy mediocrity*, which, amongst us, conftitutes. fovereign wealth. We do not offer to interrupt them, either with a deſire to difcover the leaſt 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 defires, at the leaft fignal they find them gratified."-If that be the cafe, you muſt have fufficient employment. Are there not thoſe who affume the rank to cover their idlenefs or real weak- nefs?" No; this region is fo ftrongly illuminated, that the leaft fpot is eaſily diſcovered. Impoſture dare not here intrude; it can never bear the look of a man of genius, whofe piercing eye nought can deceive. For thoſe whom prefumption may bring r hither, *The great man is modeft; the man of mediocrity dif- plays his indifferent advantages; fo the majestic river glides filently along, while the rivulet runs chattering over the rugged pebbles. 204 THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. hither*, there are perfons of a benign temper, who effectually diffuade them from a project that cannot redound to their honour. In a word, the law en- joins... ”—Our converfation was interrupted by a fudden general filence in the affembly. My whole foul flew 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 infignificant. O ungrateful memory, how could I reproach thee? Why didft thou defert me? Would that I could re- peat the perfuafive difcourfe pronounced by that academic! The force, the method, the flowing pe- riods have eſcaped me; but the impreffion on my mind can never be effaced. No; never was I fo enraptured. The vifage of each auditor reflected thofe fentiments with which I was agitated; it was one of the most delicious enjoyments my heart ever felt. What depths! what images! what truths! what a noble flame! how fublime a tone! The orator declaimed against envyt, defcribed the fources of that fatal * There is no object that may not be viewed from a hundred different ftations; but there is only one from whence it can be justly beheld; and if that is not chofen, genius and labour become uſeleſs. How I pity the envious and jealous mind, that glances over the valuable parts of a work, and knows not how to enjoy them. By analogy it dwells on thofe parts only that arc imperfect. The man of letters who by an habitual exercife THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. 205 fatal paffion, its horrible effects, the infamy it has caſt on the laurels that have crowned many great men; all its vile, unjust, deteſtable qualities were ſo ftrongly painted, that while we deplored the fate of its blind, unhappy victims, we trembled left our own hearts ſhould be infected by its poifon. The mirror was fo properly prefented before each particular character, their meannefs expofed in fuch various and ridiculous lights, the human heart diſplayed in a manner fo new, fo refined, ſo ſtriking, that it was impoffible not to know them; and when knowing, not to form the deſign of abjuring that miſerable weakneſs. The fear of bearing fome refemblance to that frightful monſter, Envy, produced a happy effect. I faw, O inftructive fight! O moment un- heard of in the annals of literature! I faw the mem- bers of that affembly regard each other with a tender and fympathizing look; I ſaw them mutually open their arms, embrace, and cry with joy; their bofoms reſting and panting against each other; I faw (will it be believed?) the authors difperfed about the room imitate the affectionate tranfports of the academi- cians, and convinced of the talents of their brethren, fwear an unalterable, eternal friendship; I faw the tears of affection and benevolence flow from every eye. They were a company of brothers, who fubftituted that exerciſe of reaſon and taſte, improves the one and the other, and inceffantly creates to himſelf new joys, is of all men the moſt happy-if he can diveſt himſelf of jealouſy or of an over fenfibility. T 206 THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. that honourable applauſe in the room of our ſtupid clapping of hands. After the full enjoyment of thofe delicious mo- ments; after each one had expreffed the various fenfations that he had felt, and thofe ftrokes by which he was moſt ſtrongly affected; and after fre- quently repeating the vows of endless friendſhip, another member of this auguft fociety aroſe with a fmiling air; an applauding murmur run through the hall, for he was eſteemed a Socratic railer‡. He raiſed his voice, and ſaid, • GENTLEMEN, Many reafons have induced me to offer you to day a fhort, but, I think, curious extract of what our academy was in its infancy, that is, about the eighteenth century. The cardinal who was our founder, and whom our predeceffors have fo ex- travagantly 6 *When at the theatre or the academy, an affecting or ſublime paſſage ſtrikes the aſſembly, inſtead of that ſigh from the bottom of the heart, and the filent emotions, I hear thoſe. clappings redoubled till they ſhake the roof, I ſay to myſelf, thefe people have no feeling; they are men of wood that ftrike two boards together. † As a malignant raillery is the fruit of an iniquitous dif- pofition, fo an ingenious pleafantry is the fruit of wisdom. A fprightly temper and graceful manner were the moſt triuniphant arms of Socrates. Cardinal Richelieu. THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. 207 travagantly extolled, and to whom they attributed, in our eſtabliſhment, the moft profound defigns, 'would never have formed this inftitution, (let us 'confefs it) if he had not himſelf made wretched verfes which he idolized, and which he was defi- rous that we ſhould celebrate. That cardinal, I 'fay, at the time he invited the authors to form one body, difcovered his defpotic temper, when he 'made them fubject to rules ever unknown to genius. 'Our founder had fo imperfect an idea of what fuch 'a fociety ought to be, that he limited the number of members to forty; fo that Corneille and Mon- tefquieu might have waited at the door to the end of their days. This cardir. 1 imagined, moreover, that genius would naturally remain in obfcurity, if titles and dignities did not roufe it from its inanity. When he formed this ftrange judgment, furely, he could think of fuch rhimers only as Col- 'letet and his colleagues, whom he ſupported out of ' mere vanity. • From thence it became an eſtabliſhed cuſtom, that they who had money in the room of merit, and titles inftead of genius, feated themfelves by thofe • whoſe names had been celebrated by fame through- ' out all Europe. He was himself the first example, • and he was but too well imitated. When thoſe great men who drew the attention of their own age, • and whofe regards were fixed on that of pofterity, • had covered with glory the place where they held their affemblies, the gilt and titled idiots befieged 'the door; nay, almoſt preſumed to declare, that I 2 'they 208 THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. they reflected honour on the fociety by their paltry ribbons, and, in fact, believed, or pretended to be- lieve, that, by feating themſelves by men of genius, they actually refembled them. Then were feen marfhals, as well victorious as beaten, mitred heads that had never made a man- date, men of the long robe, preceptors, and finan- ciers, who pretended to the title of men of genius; and though they were nothing more than the deco- 'rations of the theatre, really believed themſelves to be capital performers. Some eight or ten among the forty fhone by their own luftre; the reſt had only a borrowed light; yet it was neceffary to wait for the death of an academician in order to fill his place, and which, nevertheless, for the moſt part, ftill remained empty. • • • What could be more ludicrous than to fee that academy, whofe renown was ſpread over all the capital, hold its affemblies in a ſmall, cloſe, mean room ? There, in feveral armed chairs, that were. formerly red, were feen, from time to time, a number of indolent wretches, carelessly feated, weighing of fyllables, or carefully culling the words. • out of fome piece of profe or poetry, in order, at laft, to applaud the moſt unmeaning among 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 abſence of his brethren. • Can you believe that they gave the conqueror a gold medal in the room of a branch of oak, and • that THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. 209 ". that on it there was engraved this ridiculous infcrip. tion: Al' imortalité? Alas! that immortality paffed the next day into the goldfmith's crucible; and that was the moſt real advantage the victorious champion obtained. 'Could you imagine, that thofe little victories "fometimes turned the conquerors brains, fo great was their ridiculous vanity*? and that the judges "exerciſed ſcarce any other function than that of dif- - tributing thofe ufelefs prizes, about which no one even ever made inquiry? · The place of their affembly was open to none but authors; and they were admitted by tickets only. In the morning was performed a mufical mafs; then a trembling prieft pronounced the pa- negyric of Lewis IX. (I know not very well why) extolling him for more than an hour, though he was * Except the univerſity prizes, which give rife to a fooliſh. pride in childiſh heads, I know of nothing more pernicious. than the medals of our literary academies. The conqueror really thinks himſelf a perſon of confequence, and is ruined for the remainder of his days; he difdains every one who has not been crowned with fo rare and illuftrious a laurel. See in the Mercure de France, for the month of September, 1769, page 184, an inftance of the most ridiculous egotifm. A very diminutive author informs the public, that when he was at college, he performed his theme better than his colleagues; he glories in it, and imagines that he main-. tains the fame rank in the republic of letters.-Rifum tenes. atis, amici? T 3 210 THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. ⚫ was certainly a bad fovereign*. Then the orator 'declaimed on the croifades, which highly inflamed the archbishop's bile, who interdicted the prieſtly orator, for his temerity in difplaying good fenfe. In the evening was another eulogy; but as that was on a profane fubject the archbishop hap- 'pily did not concern himſelf with the doctrine it ' contained. < < It is proper to remark, that the place where they difplayed their wit was guarded by fufileers. and gigantic Swifs, who underſtood no French. Nothing was more comic than the contrast between the meagre figure of the man of letters, and the enormous bluftering ftature of the Swifs. This ⚫ was called a public affembly. 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 fole liberty that remained to the nation was to pronounce abfolutely, on profe or verſe, to 'condemn one author, applaud another, and fome- times laugh at them all. The academic rage, however, poffeffed every 'brain; every one would be a royal cenfort, and • then *The firſt penal edict againſt particular ſentiments or opinions was denounced by Lewis IX. vulgarly called St. Lewis. + Royal cenfor! I never hear that word without laughter. We Frenchmen know not how ridiculous we are, nor what right we give pofterity to regard us with pity. THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. 211 ' then an academician. They calculated the lives of • all the members of the academy remarked the de- gree of vigour that their ftomachs difcovered at table; death feemed to the candidates to be flow in his approach; the cry was, They are immortal! • When a new member was choſen, ſome one mut- tered foftly, Ah! when fhall I make thy eulogy at the bottom of the long table, ftanding with my hat on, and declare thee to be a great man as well as • Lewis XIV. and the chancellor Seguier, while you 'fleep profoundly under your tomb-ftone decorated with a curious epitaph. < < The men of money at laſt ſo far prevailed in a 'golden age, that they completely banished the men of letters; fo that in the following generation, mef- 'fieurs the farmers-general, were in poffeffion of the "forty armed chairs, where they fnored as much at their eaſe as their predeceffors; and were ſtill more dextrous in dividing the counters. From thence it was that the old proverb arofe, There is no enter ing the academy without an equipage. " 4 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, fongs, and vaudevilles*; they exhauſted all "the arrows from the quiver of fatire; but, alas! all ' their attacks were fruitlefs; the hearts of their ad- ' verfaries * Poor arms! which even are now prohibited, and which the infolent pride of the great at once feeks after and dreads. } 212 THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. • verſaries were become fo callous as to be no longer ⚫ penetrable, even by the piercing ftrokes of ridicule; • all the bon mots of meffieurs the authors would have been thrown away but for the aid of a violent indigeftion, that furpriſed the academicians on a certain day, when affembled at a fplendid feaft. Thofe three divinities, Apollo, Pluto, and the god of the digeftive faculty, quarrelled with each other; • Indigeſtion attacking them under the double title ' of financiers and academics, deſtroyed them almoſt all; the men of letters again entered their ancient dominion, and the academy was faved...." There was an univerfal burſt of laughter in the affembly. Some of them afked me in a low voice,. if the account was juft. Yes, I replied, for the moſt part; but when we look down on paſt times from the fummit of feven hundred years, it is doubtleſs eafy to give a ridiculous turn to what then exifted. For the reft, the academy agreed, even in my time, that each member who compofed it was of more worth than the inftitution itself. Nothing can be added to that confeffion. The misfortune is, that when men meet in affemblies, their heads contract, as Montefquieu faid, who ought to know. I paffed into an apartment that contained the por- traits of the academicians, as well ancient as modern; I took particular notice of thofe that fucceeded the academics now living; but, to avoid offence, I fhall not name them. Helas! THE ACADEMY OF SCIENCE. 213 Helas! la verité fi fouvent eft cruelle, On l'aime, et les humains font malheureux par elle. VOLT. Alas! the truth we love, though oft we find Her cruel, and a foe to human kind. I cannot, however, refrain from relating a fact that will certainly give great pleaſure to every gene- rous mind, that loves juſtice and detefts tyranny; which is, that the portrait of the abbé St. Pierre was reinstated in its rank with all the honours due to fuch exemplary virtue. They had effaced the turpitude of which the academy had rendered itſelf culpable, while it bowed the neck to a yoke of a fervitude it ought never to have known. They had placed this inestimable and virtuous writer between Fenelon and Montesquieu. I gave the praiſes due to this noble equity. I faw no portrait of Richelieu, nor of Chrif tina, nor of nor -- which, though but paintings, had been for ever difcarded, nor As I defcended the mountain, I caft my eyes many times on thoſe lovely groves where dwelt the men of brilliant genius, who, in filence, 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 ſoftly I faid: Would that I could render myſelf worthy of this academy! CHAP. [ 214 ] CHAP. XXXI. THE KING'S CABINET. NOT far from this enchanting ſpot, I beheld a vaft temple that ſtruck me with awe and admira- tion. On its frontispiece was wrote An abridgement of the univerſe. "You fee," ſaid my guide, "the king's cabinet, though the edifice belongs not to him, but to the ſtate. We give it that title merely as a mark of the reſpect we bear 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 neceffary means for performing experiments, are charmed with the glory of making diſcoveries of im- portance to mankind, and are anxious to carry the ſciences to that degree of perfection which attends their influence and their zeal. The moit confider- able perfons in the nation employ their opulence in diſcovering the fecrets of nature; and gold, formerly the fource of vice and the wages of floth, rewards thoſe labours that are fubfervient to humanity. On entering, I was ftruck with a pleaſing furprize. This temple was the animated palace of nature; all her productions were here collected with a profuſion that was completely regular. The temple eonfifted of four wings of an immenfe extent, in the centre of which THE KING's CABINET. 215 which was the moft capacious dome my eyes ever beheld. In different parts were placed marble ftatues, with theſe inſcriptions: To the inventor of the faw, To the inventor of the plane, the fcrew, the pulley, the capftane, the crane, &c. &c. All the different forts of animals, vegetables, and minerals were placed under the four wings, and were vifible by one glance of the eye. What an immenfe and aſtoniſhing affemblage! Under the firft wing were feen all from the cedar to the hyffop. Under the ſecond from the eagle to the fly. Under the third, from the elephant to the ant. Under the fourth, from the whale to the gudgeon. ture. In the middle of the dome were the ſports of na- Monſters of every kind. Productions enor- mous, unknown, fingular in their gender. For Na- ture, the moment fhe abandons her ordinary laws, difcovers an intelligence ftill more profound than when fhe adheres ftrictly to them. On the fides were feen complete portions of matter taken from the mines which prefented the fecret laboratories, where nature prepares thofe metals that man has rendered fometimes useful, fometimes dangerous. Long beds of matter ſkilfully taken up, and artfully placed, fhowed the interior face of the earth, and the order * obferved 216 THE KING's CABINET. obferved in the different ftrata of ftone, clays, and loam, there depofited*. " What follows was wrote me by a friend. 14 How "I have now a greater taſte 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 ****, much concerned that I could go no farther, I would have printed my footſteps on her "kernel, and have there enquired concerning the different "nations that had fojourned on her furface; would have "aſked, if among the infinite number of her children, any ❝one had ever acknowledged, her benefactions? If at the "fpot where I meditate, far from the light of day, ſhe had "ever produced nouriſhing fruits? And if a people, or * a throne had been there; and how many beds, formed "of the ruins of mankind, fhe .concealed from the depth of ❝this abyss to the laſt point of her diameter ? I would have "entreated her to let me read all the cataſtrophies that ſhe "had fuffered; and I fhould have bathed them with my "tears, when I had learnt all the diſaſters from which ſhe "had not been able to defend her numerous family; dif- "aſters engraved on inconteſtible medals, but whofe re- "membrance is utterly effaced; difafters that will again "return when ſhe ſhall bury in her fides the prefent gene- ❝ration, who ſhall 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 the fame "misfortunes. Then, in the midft of my grief, as juft as "humane, I ſhould have formed cruel and charitable "" Vows; I fhould have wifhed that he would have fwal- "lowed up every animal exiſtence; that he would have "ſnatched every being endowed with fenfibility, from the « light of the ſun; all of whoſe ſavours are inſufficient to 1 46 repair I THE KING's CABINET. 217 How great was my aſtoniſhment, when, inſtead of a parcel of dry bones, I faw the complete whale, the monstrous hippopotamus, the terrible crocodile, &c. They "repair the oppreſſion of tyrants, who divide and conſume "her amongſt them. "This globe, which bears fo many wretches, would "then roll in an univerfal and happy filence; it would pre- "ſent to the fun's rays no unfortunate being compelled "to curfe it. No cry of lamentation would ariſe from this "planet; it would then traverſe the heavens with a tranquil "majeſty. Her children, fleeping in one common tomb, "would fuffer her to obey the laws of the creation, while they were no longer the victims of deſtructive laws, that "fall on the head of man as on the meanest grain of fand; "and death ſurrounding this double hemifphere with his "peaceful fhadow, would perhaps preſent an appearance "more ſtriking than the bluſtering reign of this vain glo- “rious life, that draws after it a long ſeries of crimes, an "inundation of misfortunes, and a terror even of its very "diffolution.” I replied to this friend, that I did not join with him in the laſt wiſh; that phyſical evils were of all others the moſt ſup- portable; that they were tranſient, and beſides, inevitable; and we had nothing to do but fubmit; but that it was in a inan's own power to defend himſelf from thoſe unhappy paffions, that torment and difgrace him. I anſwered him in conformity to the principles that are fufficiently explained in the courſe of this work. I thought it but juſt, however, to preſerve this extract, as it abounds with a ſtrong ſenſibility ¶, ¶ That there is a confiderable degree of fenfibility, and fome Angenuity in this extract, 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 obferved in her pro. ductions. The eye thus traced without labour the chain of beings, from the greateſt to the leaſt. We there faw the lion, the tyger, the panther, in the fierce attitudes by which they are characteriſed; 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- fiognomy. Labour, cunning, and patience, art had clofely imitated. The natural hiſtory 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, fo contefted in our day, and which many philofophers had judiciouſly ſuppoſed, was here confirmed by the cleareſt evidence. We faw diftinctly that the feveral fpecies touch; that they run, ſo to ſpeak, into each other; that by the delicate and fenfible connections between the mere ſtone and the plant, the plant and the animal, the animal and man, there remained no interſtices. That their growth, duration, and deftruction, were determined by time, it has certainly the air of a philofophic rant. The writer .feems to have not believed, or at least not fufficiently regarded, the doctrine of a future ftate. Would it have been unworthy the wisdom and goodnefs of God, to have created this earth for the existence of one man only, if, after a fhort duration here, he were to inherit a glorious immortality i THE KING's CABINET. 219 by the fame cauſes.. It was moreover remarked, that nature in all her cperations, tended with energy to the formation of man; and that labouring patiently, and even at a diſtance, that important work, fhe en- deavoured, by various effays, to arrive at the gradual term of his perfection, which ſeemed to be the utmoſt effort of her power. This cabinet was by no means a chaos, an undi- geſted maſs, where the objects, either widely fcattered, or heaped together, afforded no determinate idea. The gradations were ſkilfully difpofed and preferved. But what moſt of all favoured the arrangement, was, that they had diſcovered a preparation, which preſerved the ſeveral ſubjects from thoſe infects that fpring from corruption. FX I found myself oppreffed by the weight of fo many miracles. My eye embraced all the luxury of nature. How at that moment did I reverence its author! What homage did I render to his power, his wiſdom, and what is even ftill more precious, his goodneſs! How important a being does man appear, when ranging amongst thefe wonders, collected by his hands; and which feem created for him, as he alone has the power of difcerning their various properties. That line fo juftly proportioned, thofe connections, thofe feeming vacuities, but conftantly filled; that gradual order, that plan which admits of no inter- mediate; after furveying the heavens, what fight is more magnificent on the earth, which itſelf, at the U 2 fame : 220 THE KING's CABINET. fame time, is but an atom*? By what wonderful perfeverance, I faid, have you been able to perform fo great a work? "It is the work of many kings," they replied; All jealous of honouring the title of an intelligent being; a ſublime and generous paffion, fupported by a conſtant ardor, has inípired them with the curiofity of plucking off the veil from the bofom of nature. Instead of counting battles gained, towns taken by affault, injuftice, and bloody conquefts; they fay of our kings, he made fuch a diſcovery in the ocean of beings; he accomplished fuch a project for the good of * It must be confeffed, that the hiftory of nature is no- thing more than that of our own weakneſs. The little that we know diſcovers the extent of our ignorance. Phyfics are to us what an occult ſcience was to the ancients. We cannot conteſt ſome parts of it, but we can deny the whole. What axiom is there peculiar to it? The project of a natural hiſtory is highly commendable, but it is ſomewhat faſtuous. A man ſpends his whole life in difcovering the leaft pro- perty of a mineral, and dies before he has exhauſted the fubject. The immenſity of objects, animals, trees, and plants, is fufficient to awe the capacity of a fingle man, But ought it to difcourage him? No; it is here that auda- city is virtue, obftinacy wifdom, and prefumption utility. We ſhould watch nature ſo cloſely, that ſhe may at laſt, by ſurpriſe, diſcover her fecret; to find it out feems not impoſ fible to the human mind, provided the chain of obſerva- tions be not interrupted, and that each philoſopher be more anxious for the perfection of ſcience than for his own glo- ry; a rare, but neceſſary facrifice, and one that points out the real friend to man. THE KING's CABINET. 221 of mankind. They no longer ſpend a hundred mil- lion of livres for the deſtruction of their brethren in one campaign; but employ it in augmenting their real riches; in the encouragement of genius and in- duſtry, and by encreafing their force, complete the general happineſs." There have been fecrets difcovered in all ages, by men in appearance the moſt ſtupid. Many of them have like lightning ſhone for a moment only. We are fenfible, however, that nothing is loft we wish to fave. All is laid up in the bofom of nature; we need but fearch; it is vaft, it preſents a thouſand reſources. Nothing is annihilated in the order of beings. By perpetually agitating the maſs of ideas, the moſt un- expected rencounters arife*. Fully convinced of the poffi- * When we regard the point from which men have ſet out in their philofophical inquiries, and that to which they are now arrived, it muſt be confeffed, that, with all our machines, we do not ſufficiently extend the force of the hu man mind. Man, left to himſelf, feems more ſtrong, than with all thoſe foreign helps. The more we acquire, the more indolent we become, the infinite number of experi- ments has ferved ſcarce any other purpofe than to confe- crate error, Content with feeing, we have thought that we touched the extremity, and have difdained to feek fur- ther. Our philofophers glide over a thouſand importanț objects, of which they ought to give the folution. Experi- mental philofophy has become an exhibition, a fort of pub- lic legerdemain. If the experiment that has been promiſed is tardy or diſobedient, the operator frequently corrects it with a touch of his finger. What do we now fee? Uncons nected Ų 3 222 THE KING's CABINET. poffibility of the most aftonishing 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 inftruments by which nature is compelled to diſcover her moſt hid- den treaſures. Men have learnt to derive every pof- fible advantage from the gifts they have received. By perceiving the degree to which they could afcend, they have been ftimulated by glory to purfue the boundleſs career that is fet before them. The life of a fingle man, it is faid is too fhort; it is true; and what have we done? we have united the force of each individual; they have acquired an immenfe empire; the one finiſhed what the other began. The chain was never interrupted, but each link cloſely connected with that which went before; thus it has been ex- tended through feveral centuries, and this chain of ideas nected, ufelefs difcoveries; dogmatical philofophers, who facrifice all to their fyftems; retailers of words, who con- found the vulgar, and excite pity on the man who can take the poliſhed covering from off their jargon. The memoirs of the academy of ſciences prefent a multitude of facts, of furpriſing obfervations; but all thoſe obſervations reſemble a relation of fome unknown people, where one man only has been, and where no one can go again. We must be- lieve the traveller and the philofopher, even though they ſhould have deceived themſelves; nor can we draw any utility from their relations, on account of the diſtance of the country, and the difficulty of applying their obfervations to any real objects. THE KING's CABINET. 223 ideas and of fucceffive labour, may one day furround and embrace the univerfe. It is not merely a per- fonal glory, but the intereft of the human race, ſcarce thought of in your days, that ſupports the moſt difficult enterpriſes. "We no longer amuſe ourſelves with vain fyf- tems*. Thanks to heaven (and to your folly they are all exhaufted. The torch of experience alone directs our ſteps. Our end is to know the fecret cauſes of each appearance, and to extend the do- minion of man, by providing him with the means of executing all thofe labours that can aggrandife his exiſtence. "We have certain hermits, (of one order only) who live in the forefts; but it is to herbalife, which they do by choice, and from a natural propenſity. On certain stated days they repair hither, to commu- nicate their valuable diſcoveries. "We have erected towers on the fummits of feveral mountains, where they make obfervations that are continually increasing, and that confirm each other. We have formed artificial torrents and cataracts, by which * Let the fabricators of fyftems, phyſical and meta- phyfical, explain to me the following incident. Father Mabillon was, in his younger days, an idiot. When he was fix and twenty, he fell with his head againſt a ſtone ftair-cafe. He was trepaned, and became a new man; endowed with a lively imagination, an amazing memory, and a zeal for ſtudy rarely equalled, 224 THE KING'S CABINET.' which is acquired a force fufficient to produce the greateſt effects by motion*. We have eſtabliſhed aromatic baths, to rejuvenate the bodies of thoſe who are grown rigid by age; for God has not created fo many falutary plants, and given the knowledge of their virtues to man, but to confign to his vigilance the care of preterving his health, and extending the fragile and precious thread of his days. "Our public walks, which among you ſeemed calculated for pleaſure only, pay us an uſeful 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 ftunted elm. We engraft, and render prolific, wild trees, that our labours may correfpond with the bliſs- ful liberality of nature, who only waits for that mafter's hand, to whom the Creator, ſo to ſay, has fubmitted them. "We have menageries of large extent, for all forts of animals; and have found in the depths of the foreſts, ſeveral ſpecies that were altogether unknown to • The moſt brilliant and expenſive undertakings are not the moſt to be adınired, if they are erected merely for oftentation. The machine that raiſes the water which fupplies the gardens of Marley, is not, in the eyes of a wife man, of ſo much confequence as a fingle wheel, turned by a rivulet, that grinds the corn for feveral villages, or aids the labour of the manufacturer. Genius may be powerful, but it is only great when uſeful to mankind. 1 THE KING'S CABINET. 225 to you. We mix theſe tribes to fee the effects they will produce. The difcoveries we have here made are aſtoniſhing, and highly ufeful, for the fpecies has fometimes encreaſed to twice the common fize. To conclude, we have remarked, that our pains beſtowed on nature, have rarely been ineffectual. "We have alfo recovered many fecrets that were loft to you, merely for want of perfeverance in the fearch; for you were more folicitous to heap up a great number of words in the form of a book, than to recover, by dint of application, extraordinary in- ventions. We now poffefs, as did the ancients, malleable glass; the tranfparent ftone; the Tyrian purple, with which the imperial robes were dyed; the mirror of Archimides*; the Ægyptian art of embalming; the machine by which they erected their obelisks; the cloth in which their bodies were confumed on the funeral pile; the art of liquifying flones; the inextinguiſhable lamps, and even the Appian fauce. "Walk into thefe gardens, where botany has re- ceived all the perfection of which it was ſuſceptiblef. Your * If the moderns have not preciſely this mirror, they have fomething very like it. + Thou, who wandereft over the fields, while thinking on the veſſel that plows the waves, and bears thy treaſure ; ſtop, ſhort-ſighted wretch! Thou treadeft upon an obſcure, Eut falutary herb, that would communicate health and joy to 226 THE KING's CABINET. Your blind philofophers complained that the earth was replete with poifons, we have difcovered, that they are the most efficacious remedies that can be employed. Providence has here been justified, as it would be in every inftance, but for the weakneſs 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 fight of God, "All is good!" Even the effects of theſe poiſons we not only forefee, but know how to prevent. "We have extracted from plants certain pene. trating and benign juices, which, by infinuating themſelves into the pores of the ſkin, mix with our fluids, eſtabliſh the temperament, and render the body more healthful, more fupple and robuſt. We have difcovered the fecret of diffolving the ftone without burning the entrails. We now cure the phthifis, and every other diſorder formerly deemed incurable*. But the most excellent of all our enter. prifes to thy heart; a treaſure far more valuable than all thy fhip contains. After having purfued a thouſand chimeras, end thy labours like J. J .Rouffeau, by herbalizing. It is fhameful for a man to declare that he has a fecret uſeful to the human race, and referve it for the advantage of himſelf and his family. Alas! What recompence would he have? Wretch! Thou mayeft pafs through the midſt of thy brethren, and fay to thyfelf, "Thele beings are in debted to me for a part of their health and felicity i" But thou art not poffeffed of that noble pride, nor affected by • that THE KING's CABINET. 2.247 priſes was, the exterminating that dreadful hydra, that cruel and fhameful plague, which attacked the fource of life and pleaſure. The human race was on the brink of deftruction when we difcovered that happy fpecific, which has preſerved its being and its pleaſure, ftill more precious*. In the courfe of our walk, the Buffon of that age joined demonſtration to words, by pointing out to me the objects of nature, and adding his own reflections.” But what moſt of all ſurpriſed me, was an optical cabinet, where they had affembled all the properties of light. It was a perpetual fcene of magic. They cauſed to pafs before my eyes landſcapes, profpects, palaces, rainbows, meteors, luminous cyphers, ima- ginary feas; and which were more ftriking than even the realities; it was the region of enchantment. The profpect of creation rifing out of inanity could not have given me a fenfation more exquiſite and aſtoniſh- ing. They preſented me with a microſcope, by the aid of which, I perceived new beings that had efcaped the piercing fight of our obfervers. So fimple and wonderful was the art, that the eye was never fatigued. that benevolent idea! Gó, get gold, thou mifcreant! and debar thy foul of that enjoyment. Thou executeſt juſtice, thou punifheft thyself. * I am concerned when I hear any one jeſt on this terrible fcourge. We should never mention it without tears, and not in this inftance, imitate the buffoon Voltaire. 228 THE KING's CABINET. fatigued. Every advance they made, fatisfied the moſt ardent curiofity; the ſtronger avidity it appear- ed to have, the more numerous were the objects that prefented themſelves. O! 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 acouſtics 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 inſtantly tranſported to fome wild foreft; where we heard the roarings of the lion, the tyger and the bear, who feemed to be in conflict with each other. The noiſe rent the ear. You would have faid that the echo, ftill more terrible, repeated at a diſtance thofe horrid and barbarous cries. But foon the fongs of nightingales fucceeded to thofe difcordant founds. By their harmonious organs each * A voluminous work might be compiled of the feveral queftions, natural, moral, and metaphyfical, that prefent themſelves in crowds to the inind, and about which the man of genius knows no more than the fool; and we might reply in one word to all theſe metaphyfical, moral, and natural queſtions; but it ſhould be that of the profound logogriph or enigma, which furrounds us. I do not def- pair but that they will one day diſcover it. I expect every thing from the human mind, when it fhall know its own faculties, and unite thein; and when it ſhall regard its intelligence as a power that ought to penetrate all that is, and ſubject all that it contemplates. 4 THE KING's CABINET. 229 each particle of the air became melodious; the ear difcerned even the tremblings of their amorous wings, and thoſe tender and enchanting founds which the voice of man can never perfectly imitate. To the intoxication of pleaſure was joined the tweet furpriſe, and the voluptuous fenfation that arofe from this happy union, feized every heart. This people, who had conftantly a moral aim even in the prodigies of art, had happily deduced an advantage from this furpriſing invention. When a young prince talked of combats, or diſcovered à warlike difpofition*, they conducted him to a room which they properly named, the Hell. The artist immediately put the fprings in motion, and faluted his ear with all the horrors of a battle, the cries of rage and of grief; the lamentations of the dying; the founds of terror; the bellowing of that hideous thunder which is the fignal of deſtruction 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, * Ye mighty potentates, who divide the globe among you, and are furniſhed with cannons, mortars, and nume- rous weapons, which are diſplayed by the dazzling ranks of thofe armies you fend to conquer a province or exterminate a kingdom, I know not how it is, but amidſt all your waving enfigns, you appear to me mean and wretched. The Romans, in their public games, diverted themſelves with the pigmies, whom they made to combat each other, but little thought that they were in the eye of a wife man, what the dwarfs appeared to them. X 230 THE KING's CABINET. placid, he was confined to that room the remainder, of his days. Every morning, however, they re- peated a piece of this mufic, that he might be fatis- fied without the deftruction of the human race. The director of this cabinet,- to my great furprife, exhibited all his infernal opera, without acquainting me of his intention. O heavens! mercy! mercy! I cried with all my ftrength, stopping my ears. fpare me, fpare me! He ftupped the exhibition.- "How!" he ſaid, "does not this pleaſe you?". None but a demon, I replied, can be pleafed with fuch an horrid uproar." This, however, was in your time a very common diverfion, which the kings and princes of Europe all enjoyed, as they did the chace, which, as has been very juftly remarked, is the true picture of wart. Your poets moreover ex- tolled Among the many calamities that now oppreſs Europe, that which I find the most advantageous is the depopula- tion. Since men must be miferable, there are the fewer to fuffer. If this reflection be cruel, let it fall on them from whom it proceeds. How ftrange and deplorable is the conflitution of our political world! Eight or ten crowned heads hold the haman race in chains; they correfpond, they afford each other mutual aid, they keep them in their royal lands to gripe them at their pleaſure, even till they produce con- vulſive motions. This confpiracy is not covered with a veil, but is open, public, and conducted by ambaffadors. Our complaints no longer reach their lofty ears. Look around through Europe; it is no other than a vaſt arſenal, where THE KING's CABINET. 231 Y tolled them for having frightened all the birds from the ſky for ten leagues round, and for fagaciouſly providing provender for the ravens; but, above all things, ་ where thouſands of barrels of powder want only a fingle ſpark of fire to fet them in combuftion. Frequently it is the hand of a hair-brained minifter that puts them in exploſion; he fets fire at once to the north and the fouth, to the two ex- tremities of the earth. What an immenſe quantity of can- nons, mortars, mufkets, balls, bullets, fwords, balloons, &c. of murdering flaves, obedient to the whip of diſcipline, attend the orders of a cabinet, to diſplay its bloody parade! Geometry itſelf has profaned its divine attributes by affift- ing the fury fometimes of ambitious, and fometimes capri- cious fovereigns. With what preciſion do they deſtroy an army, bombard a camp, befiege or burn a city! I have feen academicians in cool blood confult on the charging a Caunon. Alas! gentlemen, ftay till you have at leaft a principality. What imports it you whofe name governs in any particular country? Your patriotifm is a falfe virtue, and dangerous to humanity. Let us examine a little into the fignification of the word patriot. To have an attachment to any ſtate, it is neceffary to be a member of that fate. Now, if you except two or three republics, there is, pro- perly fpeaking, no fuch thing as a country. Why should the Englishman be my enemy? I am connected to him by com- merce, by the arts, and by every other relation poſſible; there is no natural antipathy between us. Why, therefore, would you, that by paffing certain limits, I fhould feparate my intereſt from that of other men? What we call patriotifm is a phantaſy invented by kings, and deſtructive to mankind; for, if my nation were three times lefs than it is, I fhould have three times as many more to hate; my affections thère- fore muſt depend on the variable limits of dominions; in the courſe of the fame year, I muſt deſtroy my neighbour, A z and J 232 TAE KING'S CABINET. things, thoſe poets were extremely fond of defcribing a battle."-Oh! I entreat you, fpeak no more of the epidemic diſeaſe which then afflicted the human race. Alas! they were all feized with the ſymptoms of rage and folly; cowardly kings, from their faſtuous thrones, gave the word for murder; and the paffive herd, guarded by one dog only, ran cheerfully to the flaughter. How was it poffible to reclaim them at-that time of illufion? how break the magic talif- man? A little club, a ribband red or blue, a ſmall enamelled crofs, communicated every where a ſpirit of intoxication and fury. Others became poffeffed by the mere fight of a cockade, or a few doits. The cure neceffarily required time; but I was fully convinced, that, fooner or later, the lenient balm of philofophy would cicatrife all thofe fhameful wounds* } The and befriends with him that I endeavoured to inaffacre the day before; fo that, in fact, I only maintain the rights of a capricious mafter, who would hold my foul in ſubjection. No; in my judgment, Europe fhould form but one vaſt ſtate; and I dare to wish that it may be united under one government. All things properly confidered, it would be highly advantageous. Then I could be in reality a patriot; but at the preſent day, what is it we call liberty ? “ Nothing more," (fays a certain writer) "than the heroifin of flavery." * What a fight! two hundred thouſand men ſpread over a vast country, and only wait for the ſignal to cut each other's throats, to maffacre one another in the face of the fun and amidſt the flowers of the fpring. It is not hatred that excites THE KING's CABINET. 233 They conducted me to the cabinet of the mathe- matics. It appeared richly ftored, and in the moſt perfect order. They had banished from this fcience all that reſembled the ſport of children, all that was merely dry and trifling fpeculation, or that furpaffed the bounds of the human capacity. I faw machines of every kind that were proper to affift the arm of man, and fuch as contained much greater powers. than are known to us; they were adapted to all forts of motions; and by the aid of thefe, the heavieſt weights were managed with facility." You have feen," they faid, "thofe obelifks, thofe triumphal arches, thofe palaces, and other fately buildings that aftoniſh the fight. They are not the produce of mere ftrength, of numbers, or dexterity: it is by the aid of finiflied machines, that they have been con- ftructed." In a word, I here found the greateſt variety of the most accurate inftruments for the uſe of geometry, aftronomy, and the other fciences. All they who had attempted experiments that were new, bold, maſterly, and that promifed great utility, even though they did not fucceed (for in- Atruction may be gained from diſappointment) had their buſts erected, and decorated 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 witneſſes to it, have had a juſt right to doubt its veracity? This thought is M. Gaillard's. X 3 234 THE KING's CABINET. They whiſpered, moreover, that many remarkable, and even wonderful fecrets, were confided to the care of a ſmall number of their fages? for there are matters, good in themfelves, that may be abufed in their application*. The human mind, in their opinion, was not yet fufficiently ftrong to make uſe of the moſt rare or moſt powerful diſcoveries without danger t. CHAP. * King Ezechias (as the Scripture informs us) fuppreffed a book that treated of the virtues of plants, for fear that, by making a wrong uſe of it, they ſhould even create diſeaſes. The fact is curious, and affords matter for much reflection. + What a horrible day was that for the human race, when a monk formed of falt-petre a murdering powder! Ariofto tells us, that the devil having invented a carabine, touched by pity, threw it into a river. Alas! There is no longer any afylurn upon the earth; courage now is ufelefs; the artillery is in the hands of a ſmall number of men, and renders them abfolute mafters of our ex- iftence. [ 235 J CHAP. XXXII. THE ACADEMY OF PAINTING. As the arts among this people are connected not only in a figurative, but in a real ſenſe; before I had gone many ſteps I found myſelf at the academy of painting. I entered feveral large faloons, adorned with the works of the greateſt maſters, each of which afforded a moral and inſtructive treatiſe. There was no longer ſeen that perpetual mythology, a thouſand times repeated, which though ingenious in the infancy of the art, was now become difguftful. The moſt pleafing objects lofe at laſt their charms: repetition is the language of a dunce. Thus it had happened to all thofe grofs flatteries, with which the fawning painters had deified Lewis XIV. Time, like truth, had devoured all the lying canvas; as it had ſent to their proper place the infipid verſes of Boileau, and the prologues of Quinault, the arts were forbid to falfify*. There, moreover, no longer exiſted any of *When I fee, in the gallery of Verfailles, Lewis XIV. with a thunderbolt in his hand, feated upon the azure clouds, like an avenging deity, the difdainful pity I feel for the pencil of Le Brun is almost reflected on the art: but when I conſider that the painting furvives both the thunder- ing god, and the artist who created him, I fimile. The first time Lewis XIV. faw a Teniers, he turned away his head with an air of diſdain, and ordered it to be removed 236 THE ACADEMY OF PAINTING. of that order of men they called connoiffeurs, who directed the artift with a golden ingot in their hands. Genius was free, followed its own laws, and no longer debafed itſelf. Among thefe moral paintings there were feen no brutal battles, no fhameful debaucheries of the fabu- lous gods, much leſs fovereigns furrounded by vir- tues of which they were remarkably deficient. Such fubjects 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 deſtine l to commemorate the most important actions; by which is meant thoſe that give a noble idea of man; fuch as clemency, generofity, perfeverance, courage, and a difdain of luxury. I found that they had exhibited all thofe important fubjects that deſerve to paſs down to poſterity; the greatnefs of foul confpicuous in certain fovereigns was in particular immortalized. I faw Henry IV. nourish- ing the city he befieged; Sully flowly counting out a fum of money, that was deſtined for his maſter's pleaſures; Lewis XIV. on his death-bed, crying out, "I now find I have been too fond of war;" Trajan tearing his veſtment 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 fing; if he preferred the furious trooper ſcowering through the duſt and ſmoke of a camp, the complexion of his mind is.ma- nifeft. THE ACADEMY OF PAINTING. 237 unhappy man; Marcus Aurelius defcending from his horfe, during a hafty enterprize, to receive the petition of a poor woman. Titus diftributing food and remedies to the fick. St. Hilaire ftretching out his arm and ſhowing his fon, who wept, Tureane feated amidst the duft; the generous Fabius putting on the chains of a galley-flave in the room of his fa- ther, &c. I faw no gloomy or cruel fubjects. No beggarly courtiers here faid with a fneer, "Even the painters now preach!" Every one acknowledged their merit, in having felected the moſt fublime ob- jects in human nature, that is, grand repreſentations of the fubjects of hiftory. They had wifely, deter- mined that nothing was more important. All the arts had made, fo to fay, a wonderful affociation in favour of humanity. This happy agreement had thrown a greater luftre on the facred effigy of virtue; it was become more adorable, and its afpect, always charming, afforded a public inftruction, as juſt as it was ftriking. Alas! how is it poffible to reſiſt the power of the fine arts, when with one voice they ex- tol and dignify the free and noble citizen? to All theſe pictures attracted the eye, as well by the execution as by the defign. Theſe painters had united the Flemish colouring with the Italian drawing; or rather they had, by a profound ftudy, furpaffed them. Honours, the only riches of the great man, at once animated and rewarded his labours. Nature feemed to appear as in a mirror. The friend of virtue was unable to contemplate theſe beautiful paintings with- out the tender figh of pleaſure. The guilty dared not 238 THE ACADEMY OF PAINTING. not to look upon them; they feared left thefe ani- mated figures ſhould aſſume a voice, accuſe, and con- found them. They told me that theſe pictures were exhibited to the people; ſtrangers were alfo admitted; for they practiſed not that mean tyranny which excludes all who come from beyond a certain limit. Every year they propofed four fubjects, that the artift might have time to give his work a due degree of perfec- tion. The most finifhed cafily obtained the fuffrage of the people; for attention was paid to the general voice, which is commonly that of equity itself. The others, however, were fure to receive their due por- tion of praife. They were far from the injuftice of difcouraging the fcholar. The established malters were void of that unworthy and bafe jealoufy which banifhed Pouffin far from his country, and cauſed Le Seur to perifh in the flower of his day. They had diveſted themfelves of that dangerous and fatal prejudice, which, in my time, permitted no fcholar to follow any other manner than that of his mafter. They did not make infipid copyifts of thofe who, di- rected by good precepts and then left to themfelves, would have attained the height of their profeflion. The difciple, in a word, did not bend under a yoke that rendered him fpiritlefs; nor pace, with flow and trembling ſteps, after a capricious mafter, and one too, whom he was obliged to flatter. If he proved to be a man of genius, he went before him, and his preceptor was the firſt to glory in his advancement. There THE ACADEMY OF PAINTING. 239 There were feveral academies of drawing, paint- ing, fculpture, and practical geometry. Thefe arts, dangerous in my age, because 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 majefty, thofe charms, that noble and fimple tafle, which by a fecret connection elevates the minds of the people. Theſe ſchools were open to the public. The dif ciples worked under its aufpices. Every one was permitted to declare his opinion. This did not, how- ever, prevent the authoriſed directors from making a proper inſpection. But no fcholar was confidered as dependent on any particular mafter, but as related to them all in general. By avoiding the appearance of a defpotic power, fo fatal to a maſterly and free genius, they were enabled to produce artiſts who had furpaffed the chef-d'œuvres of antiquity. Their paintings were fo highly finifled, 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 profeffions 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 who would labour in any profeffion, inſtead of affording him a recompence. All thofe little ludicrous corporations. ferve no other purpofe, by collecting a number of people together, but to ferment their paffions to a more 240 THE ACADEMY OF PAINTING. more violent degree. A multitude of indeterminable incidents ariſe from that bondage, which neceffarily render them enemies to each other. So in a priſon, men, when chained together, communicate their ran- cour and their vices. By endeavouring to prevent private intereſts, they have rendered it more active, which is juſt the contrary to what a wife legiſlature fhould purfue. A thouſand diforders proceed from this perpetual conſtraint, by which men are prevented from exercising their particular talents. From hence fpring idleness and fraud. The misfortune ariſes from the impotence of thofe who would relieve themſelves from that deplorable ftate in which they. are held by an arm of braſs, and which nothing but gold can relax. The monarch, to enjoy a trifling tribute, has deſtroyed the moft facred liberty, and choaked up all the fources of fpirit and induftry. Among theſe people, well inftructed in the rights. of mankind, each one followed that particular em. ploy to which his genius led him; the fure pledge of fuccefs. They who had no propenfity to the fine arts, applied themfelves to more attainable profeffions; for no mediocrity is allowed in works of genius. The glory of the nation appears to be affected by thofe talents, which diftinguifh not only men, but empires. I CHAP. [ 241 1 CHAP. XXXIII. EMBLEMATICAL PAINTINGS. I ENTERED a ſeparate apartment, where they had reprefented the feveral ages. To each of them was given, befides its natural phyfiognomy, thoſe features by which it was diſtinguiſhed from its brethren. The age of ignorance was clothed in a black and mournful robe. Her eyes were red and gloomy, and in her hand fhe bore a torch. At a diſtance was ſeen a funeral pile, before which ſtood priests covered with a long veil, and human victims, their eyes concealed by bandages, who were devoted to the flames. Further on I faw a wild enthufiaft, without any other merit than that of a heated imagination, with which he fired thofe of his fellow citizens, not lefs inflammable; and by thundering forth the name of the deity, he drew after him a croud of people, as a docile herd run after the voice of the fhepherd. Even kings quitted their thrones, abandoned their depopu- lated ſtates, and believing they heard a voice from heaven, facrificed themfelves, their crowns, and their fubjects, in the midſt of vaſt deſerts. In the back ground was feen Superftition ftriding over the heads of mankind, and fhaking her murdering torch. Gigantic monſter! her feet touched the two extre- 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 myſtery and allegory, and wrapt up in the marvellous; was conftantly furrounded by enigmas, and endeavouring to thicken the fhades by which he was enveloped. There were feen the Platonic years, numbers of Pythagoras, the verfes of the fybils, the powerful charms of magic, and thoſe preſtiges, fore- times ingenious and fometimes infipid, that the mind of man has created. Another held in his hand an aſtrolabe, attentively regarded the calendar, and calculated the hours for- tunate and unfortunate. A cold and filent gravity was imprinted on his protracted vifage. He turned pale at the conjunction of two ftars. The prefent hour was nothing to him, and the future was his ex- ecutioner. His religion was directed by the ridicu lous jargon of aftrology, and he embraced that phan tom as an immoveable column. Then appeared a figure covered with armour; his head was enclofed in a brazen helmet, and in his hand he bore a lance. He breathed nothing but fin- gle combat. The foul of this hero was more har- dened than the fteel that covered him. It was by arms alone that right, opinion, juftice, and truth, were to be decided. In the back ground were feen the field of combat, judges and heralds fupported the vanquilhed, or rather the guilty. In another part was feen a figure totally burlefque. A Gothic architect, erecting columns that had no proportion EMBLEMATICAL PAINTINGS. 243 proportion to the weight they fupported, and which were charged with ridiculous ornaments; and thofe he thought a refinement in building, unknown to the Greeks or Romans. The fame irregularity was con- fpicuous in his logic, which confifted of abftract ideas, and perpetual chicanery. At a diftance were feen a fort of fleep-walkers, who talked and acted with their eyes open, but, plunged in a long dream, never connected two ideas, unleſs by chance. Thus every age fucceffively prefented itfelf; but the detail would be here too long. I ſtood for fome time regarding the eighteenth century, induced by my an- cient connection with it. It was reprefented by the painter under the figure of a woman. A number of borrowed and coftly ornaments loaded her proud and delicate head. Her neck, her arms, and breaft,. were covered with pearls and diamonds. Her eyes were bright and ſparkling, but a fomewhat affected fmile gave an air of grimace to her mouth. Her cheeks were covered with a flaming 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 fhe was ftrongly bound. She had, however, liberty enough to gefticulate, to prance, and gambol, and this ſhe did to excefs, in order, (as it fhould feem) to diſguiſe her flavery, or at leaſt to make it more eafy and pleafing. I examined her figure with at- tention, and tracing the drapery of her veſtment, I perceived that her pompous robe was at the bottom Y 2 in 4 244 EMBLEMATICAL PAINTINGS. in tatters, and covered with dirt. Her naked feet were plunged in a kind of bog; her lower extremities were as hideous as her head was brilliant. She ap- peared in this drefs not much unlike one of thofe ftrumpets who walk the streets at the beginning of the night. I difcovered behind her a number of chil. dren, with meagre livid afpects, who cried to their mother while they devoured a morfel of black bread. She endeavoured to hide them with her robe, but between the tatters thofe wretched infants ſtill ap- peared. At a diftance in the picture were feen fuperb palaces, buildings of marble, parterres artfully laid out, vaft foreſts peopled with deer, where the horn refounded from afar. But the country, half uncul tivated, was filled with wretched peafants, who ha- raffed by fatigue, funk under their burthens: then appeared men who forced away part of them to the wars, and took from the reft their beds and their kettles*. The * Tyranny is a dangerous tree which fhould be rooted out as foon as planted. The beauty of this tree is deceitful. While young it appears crowned with flowers and laurels, but is fecretly nourished by blood. It foon grows, fpreads its branches, and lifts its lofty head. It covers all that fur- rounds it with a faftuous and deadly fhade. The neigh- bouring fruits and flowers perith, deprived of the beneficent rays of the fun, which it intercepts. It compels the earth to nouriſh none but itſelf. It at laſt becomes like that ve. nomous tree, whoſe ſweet fruit is poifon, and that changes the drops of rain which diftil from its leaves into a corrofive fluid, that gives the weary traveller at once fleep and death. In the mean time its trunk becomes knotty, its fap is changed into น EMBLEMATICAL PAINTINGS. 245 The characters of the different nations were ex- preffed with equal fidelity. By colours variegated with a thouſand mixtures, by a gloomy and melan- choly countenance, was diftinguifhed the jealous and vindictive Italian. In the fame picture his thought- ful looks diſappeared in the midit of a concert; the painter had feized with remarkable addrefs, that crifis to make him become fupple in an inftant. The back ground contained a reprefentation of the droll jefls of pantomimes. The Englishman, in an attitude rather haughty than majeſtic, ſtanding upon the point of a rock, commanded the ocean, and gave to a veffel the fignal to vilit the new world, and bring him back its trea- fures. His bold looks declared that his private liberty was equal to that of the public. Contending fleets, growling under the ftrokes of the tempeft, afforded his ear fweet barmony. His hand was conflantly ready to feize the fword of civil war, and with a fmile he looked fledfaſt at a fcaffold, on which fell a head and a crown. The German, under a fky that flafhed with light- ning, was deaf to the roaring of tlie elements: it was hard to fay whether he braved them, or was infen- fible. His eagles tore each other by his fide, which to him was mere diverfion. Wrapped up in himſelf he ť Y 3· into hard wood, and the branches of its brazen root are ex- tended; the ax of liberty becomes blunt, and can make mo impreffion on it. 246 EMBLEMATICAL PAINTINGS. he beheld his deftiny with a philofophic or infenfible eye. The Frenchman full of noble and elevated graces, preſented a refined afpect. His figure was not ori- ginal, but his manner was great. Imagination and judgment were expreffed in his countenance; he fmiled with an addreſs that ſeemed to approach de- ceit. There ran through the whole of his figure much uniformity. His colours were pleafing, but: there was nothing of that boldneſs, nor of that fine effect of lights, which were admired in the other pic- tures. The fight was fatigued by a multiplicity of details, that reciprocally injured each other. An innumerable crowd bore little drums, which they were continually beating, and thought they imitated the roaring of cannon: It was a paffion, as bufy and boisterous, as it was weak and tranfient.. : : CHAP. I 247 J * CHAP. XXXIV. SCULPTURE AND ENGRAVING. SCULPTURE, not lefs pleafing than her elder fifter, difplayed in turn all the wonders of her art, which was no longer proſtituted to thofe impu- dent fons of wealth, who debafed it by executing repreſentations of their venal figures, or fome other fubject equally deſpicable. The artiſt, provided for by the government, confecrated his talent to merit and virtue only. There was not here ſeen, as in our apartments, by the fide of the king's buſt, the vile tax-gatherer who deceived and defrauded him, pre- fenting without fhame his baſe phyfiognomy. Does a man, by advancing himſelf in a carcer of memora- ble actions become worthy of the regard of pofterity? Does another perform fome great and valiant ex- ploit? The animated artiſt then charges himſelf with the public acknowledgment; he meditates in private one of the moſt maſterly performances of his days, and, without adding the portrait of the author, he preſently produces his work and obtains permif- fion to immortalize himſelf with the hero; his labour ſtrikes every eye, and has no need of a frigid com- mentary. The fculptor was exprefsly forbid thofe fubjects that did not ſpeak to the mind, and confe quently the fine marble, or other matters equally valuable, were no longer wafted. All thoſe licentious fubjects that loaded our chim- mey pieces were strictly prohibited. Men of merit had 248 SCULPTURE AND ENGRAVING. . had no conception of our legiflation, when they read in hiſtory that in an age which fo frequently pronoun- ced the words Religion and Morality, the father of a family ſhould exhibit fcenes of debauchery to the eyes of his children, under pretence that they were mafter-pieces of art; that they ſhould expofe objects capable of heating the most tranquil imagination, and of filling young minds, open to every impreffion, with diforderly ideas; they were grieved at this public and criminal practice of depraving the mind before it was completely formed*. An Among other public abufes propofed to be redreffed, may be ranked thofe licentious fhews that offend not only against found morals but good fenfe, equally refpectable. When fpeaking of the theatres, we forget to mention the tumblers and rope-dancers; but the difpofition of a work of no great moment, provided the author there includes all his ideas. I fhall, like Montaigne, turn back upon every occafion; I difregard the cenfure of the critics; I flatter myfelf, that, at least, I fhall not be, like them, difguftful. To return then to the tumblers and rope- dancers, fo common and ſo ſhocking; fhould they be tole- rated by humane magiftrates? After having employed all their time in exercites "equally aſtoniſhing and frivolous,. they riſk their lives in public, and tell a thouſand ſpectators, that the death of a man is a matter of very little confe- quence. The attitudes of thefe performers are befide in- decent, and offend both the eye and the heart. They perhaps alſo accuftom minds not yet formed, to find no pleaſure but in that which is attended with danger, and to think that the life of a man may make part of our diver- fions. It will be faid, that this is moralizing on very trifling fubjects; but I have remarked that theſe wretched performances SCULPTURE AND ENGRAVING. 249 An artiſt, to whom I applied for information,": carefully explained to me all thefe great changes. He told me, that in the nineteenth century there' was a great ſcarcity of marble, fo that they were obliged to have recourfe to the heap of financiers, tax-gatherers, and fecretaries bufts, which were fo many blocks in part ready prepared; they were therefore eaſily reformed, and became finiſhed pieces. I paſſed into the laſt gallery, not lefs curious than the others for the multiplicity of pieces it contained. There was affembled an univerfal collection of draw-' ings and engravings. Notwithſtanding the great improvements in the laſt art, they had preferved the works of the preceding ages; for it is not with prints as with books; a book muſt be either good or bad, whereas a print, which prefents itfelf to the eye only, may always ferve as an object of compariſon. This gallery, which owed its origin to the age of Lewis XV. was now very differently diſpoſed. It was no longer a ſmall room, in the midſt of which was a fmall table that could fcarce contain a dozen artiſts, 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 ſcarce a tenth part of the year, and which fmall portion was liable to be abridged at any time by the caprice of performances have much more influence on the multi- tude than all thoſe arts that have fome appearance of ra- tionality. 1 } 250- SCULPTURE AND ENGRAVING. of the director. Thefe galleries were open every day, and committed to the care of polite affiftants, who were punctually paid, that they might ferve the public with the fame punctuality. In this fpacious room, you were fure to find a print of each painting and ſculpture contained in the other galleries; it pre- ſented an abridgment of thoſe chef-d'œuvres, which they had laboured to immortalize, and to diffuſe to the greatest degree poffible. Engraving is as fruitful and happy as printing ; it has the advantage of multiplying its impreffion, as printing does its copies; and by that means every private perſon, every ftranger, may procure a rival, copy of a painting. All the inhabitants decorate, without jealoufy, their walls with thefe interefting, fubjects, which reprefent examples of virtue and he-. roifm. We no longer fee thofe pretended connoif- feurs, no lefs futile than ignorant, who purſue an imaginary perfection 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 thoſe voluminous works in which the engraver had defcribed, with fo much facility and precifion, not only the contours, but the colours of nature; all the paintings were expreffed to perfection; but what had moft engaged their at tention were thoſe objects that relate to the arts and fciences. The plates of the Encyclopedia had been. entirely re-engraved, and they had more carefully at- tended to that rigorous precifion which is their chief merit, ! SCULPTURE AND ENGRAVING. 251 merit, as the leaft error is of the higheft confequence. I obferved a magnificent courfe of natural philofophy treated in the fame manner; and as that fcience is, in a peculiar manner, the object of the fenfes, it is by the figures relative to it, that, perhaps, we attain juſt ideas of all its parts. An art that affords fo many uſeful fubjects is deferving of high efteem, and they had here given it freſh marks of confidera- tion. I obſerved, that all was executed in true taste; that they followed the manner of Gerrard Audran, and which they had improved by carrying it to the higheſt degree of perfection poffible. The flouriſhes in books were no longer called cochins; and many other like miſerable phraſes were abolifhed*. The engravers had defifted from the ufe of that pernicious glaſs, which deftroyed their fight entirely. The connoiffeurs of this age were no admirers of thofe little points in which all the merit of modern engraving conſiſts; they preferred large, free, regular ftrokes, that expreffed every thing with certain touches that were juft and nobly defigned. The engraver readily confulted the painter, who, in his turn, avoided affecting the caprice of a maſter. They efteemed one another, they lived together as friends and equals, and were far from reflecting the faults of any work on each other. Engraving was, moreover, * M. Voltaire fhould be fatisfied before-hand; he, who has to long pleaded for this important reformation. 252 THE HALL OF AUDIENCE, moreover, become of great advantage to the ftate, by the commerce of prints with foreigners, fo that of theſe artists it may be faid, that under their propitious hands copper becomes gold. ミ ​CHAP. XXXV. THE HALL OF AUDIENCE. I COULD not quit thefe rich galleries with- out the greateſt regret; but my inſatiable curioſity, that would leave nothing unfeen, carried me into the centre of the city. I faw a great multitude, com- pofed of each fex, and of every age, that flocked with precipitation toward a portal that was magnificently decorated. I heard from different parts, "Let us make hafte! our good king has, perhaps, already mounted his throne; we fhall fcarce fee him afcend it to-day."—I followed the crowd, but was much aſtoniſhed to find that there were no ferocious guards to beat back the thronging people. I came to a moſt ſpacious hall, fupported by many columns; I advanced, and at laft came near to the monarch's throne. No; It is impoffible to conceive an idea of royal majeſty more pleafing, more auguft, more graceful and engaging. I was melted, even to tears. I faw no thundering Jupiter, no terrible apparatus, no inftruments of vengeance. Four figures of white marble, repreſenting fortitude, temperance, juftice, I and 1 253 THE HALL OF AUDIENCE. and clemency, fupported a plain armed chair of white ivory, which was elevated merely to extend the voice. The chair was crowned with a canopy, fup- ported by a hand, the arm of which feemed to come out of the vaulted roof. On each fide of the throne there were two tables; on one fide was engraved the law of the ftate, and the limits of the royal authority; and on the other, the duties of kings and of fubjects. In front was a woman fuckling a child; a faithful emblem of royalty. The firſt ſtep to the throne, was in the form of a tomb. Upon it was wrote in large characters, ETERNITY. Under this ſtep repofed the embalmed body of the laſt monarch, there to remain till deplaced by his fon. From thence he cried to his heirs, that they were all mortal; that the dream of royalty was near finiſhed; that then nothing would remain to them but their renown. This vaft place was already filled with people, when I faw the monarch approach, clothed in a blue mantle that gracefully flowed behind him; his fore- head was bound with a branch of olive, that was his diadem; he never appeared in public without this reſpectable ornament, which was revered by others and by himſelf. There were loud acclamations when he mounted the throne, and he did not appear infenfible to the cries of joy. Scarce was he feated, when an awful filence was fpread over the whole affembly. I liftened with attention. His minifters read to him, with a loud voice, an account of every thing remarkable that had paffed fince the laft audience. If the truth had been difguifed, the peo- Z ple *** 254 THE HALL OF AUDIENCE. ple were there to confound the detractor. 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 provifions and merchandize. The monarch hears, and approves by a nod, or refers the matter to a more minute examination. But if from the bottom of the hall there fhould be heard a voice complaining, or condemning any one article, though it were that of the meanest citizen, he is brought forward to a little circle formed before the throne; there he explains his ideas*; and if he appear to be right, he is at- tended to, applauded, and thanked; the fovereign regards him with a favourable afpect; but if, on the contrary, he advances nothing to the purpofe, or what appears plainly to be founded on private ad- vantage, he is diſmiſſed with diſgrace, and the hoots of the people follow him to the door. Every man may prefent himfelf without any other apprehenfion than that of incurring the public derifion, if what he propoſe be unjuft or felf-intereſted. Two *It is one of the greatest misfortunes in France, that the police and adminiſtration of all affairs is directed entirely by the magiſtrates, by men invefted with a place and a title, who never deign to confult (at least on the part of the public) private perfons that are frequently endowed with knowledge and fagacity to an eminent degree. The moſt worthy and accomplified citizen cannot difplay his uſeful talents and the dignity of his fentiments, unlefs poffeffed of a public employment; he muſt ſtifle his noble deſigns, be a witneſs to the moſt flagrant abuſes, and be ſilent. THE HALL OF AUDIENCE. 255 Two principal officers of the crown accompany the monarch in all public ceremonies, and walk by his fide; the one carries, on the point of a fpear, an ear of corn, and the other a branch of the vine*, which ferve conftantly to remind him that they are the two ſupports of the ftate and the throne. He is fol- lowed by the pantler of the crown, bearing a baſket of loaves, which he diftributes to every one that aſks. This bafket is the fure thermometer of the public diftrefs; and when it is found empty, the minifters are difmiffed and punished; the basket, however, conftantly remains full, and declares the public profperity. This auguft feffion is held every week, and lafts three hours. I went from the hall with a heart filled with complacency, and with the profoundeſt reſpect for this monarch, whom I loved as a father, and revered as a protecting divinity. I converfed with feveral perfons on all that I had feen and heard; they were furpriſed at my aſtoniſh- ment; all theſe things feemed to them quite fimple and natural." Why," faid one of them, "will you have the rafhnefs to compare the prefent time to an extravagant and capricious age; that enter- tained falfe ideas of the moft fimple matters, when pride *The emperor. Tai-fung walking in the country, and ſeeing a number of peasants at work, faid to his fon, who attended him, "Without the ſweat and labour of theſe men, neither you nor I ſhould have any empire.” Z 2 250 THE HALL OF AUDIENCE. * pride was greatnefs, when fplendor and oftenta- tion were all, and when virtue was regarded as a phantom, the mere imagination of dreaming phi- lofophers*." CHAP. XXXVI. THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. MAY I afk what is the prefent form of go- vernment? Is it monarchical, democratic, or arifto- 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 purpoſe, loſe themſelves in defpotifm, as the rivers are loft in the bofom of the ocean; and defpotifm foon finks under *We fhould pay a refpect to popular prejudices! is the language of narrow and pufillanimous fouls, to whom the mere exiſtence of a law is fufficient to make it facred. Does the man of virtue, to whom alone it belongs to love or hate, acknowledge this criminal moderation? No; he charges himſelf with the public vengeance, his right is founded on his genius, and the juftice of his caufe on the acknowledgment of pofterity. + The genius of a nation does not depend on the atmo- fphere that furrounds it; the climate is not the phyſical cauſe of its 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 weight*. This has been all literally accompliſhed, and never was there a more certain prophecy. "When put them in motion and ſuſtain them, are derived from certain circumftaces, that are fometimes fudden, fometimes flow in their operations; but, fooner or later, they never fail to arrive. Happy are the people who, by information or by inſtinct, ſeize the crifis! * Would you know what are the general principles that habitually prevail in the councils of a monarch? here fol- lows the fubftance of what is there done. Taxes of every kind fhould be multiplied, for the prince can never be rich enough, confidering that he is obliged to maintain armies and the officers of his houthold, who ought, by all means, to be extremely magnificent. If the people complain of theſe loads they do wrong, and muſt be curbed. No injuſtice 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 fhall think fit, eſpe- cially if the intcreſt or fplendor of his crown require it. Beſide, it is notorious, that a people at their eaſe, and in the midſt of plenty, become lefs laborious, and may become infolent. We fhould therefore retrench their profperity that we may add to their fubmiffion. The poverty of the fubject is for ever the ſtrongeſt rampart of a monarch; and the poorer the individuals are, the more obedient the nation will be. Once taught to fubmit, they will perform it by habit, which is the moſt certain method of being obeyed. It is not fufficient that they merely fubmit, they thould be taught to believe that the ſpirit of wifdom here prefides in the higheſt perfection and fubmit accordingly, without daring Z3 258 THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. "When we confider the lights that have been ac- quired, it would doubtless be a difgrace to the human race, to have meaſured the diftance between the fun and the earth, to have weighed the heavenly orbs, and not to have difcovered thofe fimple and effica- cious laws by which mankind fhould be governed. It is true, that pride, luxury, and ſelf intereſt pro- duce a thouſand obſtacles; but how glorious is it to diſcover the means of making thoſe private paffions fubfervient to the general good! The veffel that plows the ocean commands the elements at the fame moment that it is obedient to their empire; fubmif- five to a double impulfe, it inceffantly re-acts againſt them. You there fee, perhaps, the moſt lively image of daring to difpute about the decrees that proceed from our infallible knowledge. If a philofopher fhould have acceſs to this prince, and advancing to the midſt of his council, fhould fay to him, "Take heed how you give credit to theſe evil counſellors; you are furrounded by the enemies of your family: your grandeur and fecurity are founded lefs on an arbitrary power than on the love of your people. If they are un- happy they will the more ardently with for a revolution, and will ſhake either your throne or that of your children. The people are immortal but you muſt pafs away. The majefty 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 of nature. By being more mo- derate, you will become more potent. juſtice, and know that it is by morality alone that a prince becomes powerful and refpectable." This philofopher would certainly be taken for an enthufiaft, and perhaps they would not even vouchſafe to puniſh him for his virtue. Set an example of THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 259 of a ſtate; borne up by tempeftuous paffions, it re- ceives from them its movements, and at the fame time refifts the ftorm. "The art of the pilot is all.” Your political light was nothing more than a cre- puſcle; and you wretchedly complained of the Au- thor of nature, at the fame time that he had given you both intelligence and ftrength for government. There only wanted a loud voice to roufe the multi- tude from their lethargy. If oppreffion thundered on your heads, you ought to have accufed your own weakneſs only. Liberty and happineſs appertain to thoſe who dare to ſeize them. All is revolution in this world; the most happy of all has had its point of maturity, and we have gathered its fruits *. "Freed from oppreffion, we have taken care not to place all the ftrength and fprings of government, all the rights and attributes of power, in the hands of one mant. Inftructed by the misfortunes of paſt ages, * In certain ſtates it is an epoch that becomes neceſſary; an epoch terrible and bloody, but the fignal of liberty. It is of a civil war that I fpeak. It is that calls forth all the men of exalted genius, fome to attack, and others to defend liberty. A civil war difplays the moſt hidden talents. Men of wonderful abilities arife, and appear worthy to command the human race. It is a horrid remedy! But in the ftupor of a ſtate when the minds of men are plunged in a deep Lethargy, it becomes neceffary. Jothai † A defpotic government is nothing more than a league between a ſovereign and a fmall number of favourite ſub- jećts, in order to cheat and plunder the reft. In that cafe the 260 THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. ages, we are become lefs imprudent. If Socrates or Marcus Aurelius fhould again vifit the earth, we fhould not confide to them, an arbitrary power; not from a miſtruft, but from a fear of depreciating the facred character of a free citizen. Is not the law the voice of the general will of the people? And how can we dare to commit fo important a depoſit to a fingle man? Has he not his unguarded moments? And, even fuppofing him to be free from them, ſhall men refign that liberty which is their moft valuable inheritance*. « We the monarch or he that reprefents him, divides and deſtroys ſociety, becomes a feparate and central body, that lights up every paſſion as it lifts, and fets them in motion for its per- ſonal intereſt. He creates juftice and injuſtice, his humour becomes a law, and his favour the meaſure of public eſteem. This fyftem is too violent to be durable. Juſtice, on the contrary, is a barrier that equally protects the fubject and the prince. Liberty alone can form animated citizens, the only citizens, in fact, among rational beings. A king is never powerful but at the head of a free and contented people. The nation once debafed, the throne finks. *Liberty begets miracles, it triumphs over nature, it cauſes harveſts to grow upon rocks; it gives a fmiling air to the moſt doleful regions; it enlightens the peafant, and makes him more penetrative than the proud ſlaves of the moft polished court. Other climates, the most finished works of the creation, delivered up to fervitude, exhibit nothing but defolated lands, pale and dejected vifages, that dare not lift their cyes to heaven. Chooſe then, man! be happy or miſerable; if yet it be in thy power to chooſe: fear tyranny, detcft flavery, arm thyfelf, live free, or die. THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 261 We have experienced how contrary an abſolute fovereignty is to the true intereft of a nation. The art of raifing refined tributes, all the powers of that terrible machine progreffively multiplied; the em- barraffment of the laws, one oppofing another; chi- canery devouring the poffeflions of individuals; the cities crowded by privileged tyrants; the venality of offices; minifters and intendants treating the differ- ent parts of the kingdom as conquered countries; a ſubtle hardneſs of heart that juftifies inhumanity; royal officers, who are in no degree refponſible to the people, and who infult them, inſtead of liſtening to their complaints; fuch was the effect of that vigilant defpotiſm which collected every intelligence, to em- ploy it to a bad pupofe; not unlike thofe burning glaffes that collect the fun's rays, to deſtroy fuch ob- jects as are prefented to them. When we paffed through France, that fine kingdom which nature has favoured with her propitious regards, what did we behold? Diſtricts defolated by tax gatherers; cities become boroughs, and boroughs villages; the people pale and meagre; in a word, beggars inftead of in- habitants. All theſe evils were known; but evident principles were avoided to embrace a fyftem of dif fipation*, and the fhadows that were raiſed, au- thoriſed the general depredation. "Can * An intendant of the province, defirous of giving the **, who was going to Soiffons, an idea of the abundance that reigned in France, caufed the fruit-trees of the country round about to be dug up, and planted in the ſtreets of the city, ?. 262 THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. "Can you believe it? The revolution was effected without trouble, and by the heroifm of one great man. A philofophic prince, worthy of a throne, be- cauſe he regarded it with indifference; more foli- citous for the happinefs of mankind than for the phantom of power, diftrufting pofterity, and diftruft- ing himſelf, offered to put the eſtates of the nation in poffeffion of their ancient prerogatives; he was fen- fible that in an extenfive kingdom there ſhould be an union of the different provinces in order to its being well governed; as, in the human body beſide the general circulation, each part has one that is peculi- arly adapted to itself; fo each province, while it obeys the general laws, modifies thofe that are peculiar to it, agreeable to its foil, its pofition, its commerce and reſpective intereſts. Hence all lives, all flourishes. 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 ſpring all the evils that op- prefs humanity. Man is wicked only becaufe he miſtakes his true intereft. In fpeculative phyſics, in aftronomy, and mathematics, we may err without any real detriment; but politics will not admit of the leaſt error. There are vices in government more deſtructive than natural plagues. An error of this kind depopulates and impoveriſhes a kingdom. If the moſt ſevere, the moſt profound fpeculation is ever ne- ceffary, it is in thofe public and problematic cafes, where reaſons of equal weight hold the judgment in equilibrium. Nothing THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 203 from the throne, does not carry troubles into thoſe parts where the king's eye has never penetrated. Each province is the guardian of its own fecurity and its own happiness; its principle of life is not too far diftant from it; it is within itfelf, always ready to aſſiſt the whole, and to remedy evils that may arife. The prefent fuccours are left to thoſe who are intrufted in its welfare, and will not palliate the cure, much lefs will they rejoice at thoſe incidents that may weaken their country. "The abfolute fovereignty is now abolished; the chief magiftrate preſerves the name of king; but he does not foolishly attempt to bear all that burden which oppreffed his anceſtors. The legiflative power of the kingdom is lodged in the ftates affembled. The adminiſtration of affairs, as well political as civil, Nothing is then more dangerous than the tricks of office; they produce inconceivable errors; and the ftate is not fenfible of its condition till arrived on the brink of ruin. We cannot, therefore, be too clear in the complicated art of government, as the leaft deviation is a line that conſtantly recedes as it increafes, and produces an immenfe error. The laws have been hitherto nothing more than palliatives, that have been turned into general remedies; they are, as has been very juſtly faid, the offspring of neceflity, and not of philofophy; it belongs to the latter to correct their de- fects. But what courage, what zeal, what love of hu- manity muſt he have, who, froin fuch a chaos, ſhall form a regular fyftem! But, at the fame time, where is the man that would be more dear to the human race? Let him remember, that it is of all objects the moſt important; that the happiness of mankind, and confequently their virtues, are therein highly interefted. 264 THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. civil, is affigned to the fenate; and the monarch, armed with the fword of juſtice, watches over the execution of the laws. He propofes every uſeful eftablishment. The fenate is refponfible to the king, and the king and fenate are reſponſible to the ftates; which are affembled every two years. All is there decided by the majority of voices. The enacting of new laws, the filling of vacant pofts, and the re- dreffing of grievances, appertain to them; particular, or unforeſeen cafes are left to the wifdom of the monarch. "He is happy*, and his throne is fixed upon a bafis the more folid, as his crown is guaranteed by the liberty of the nationt. Thofe fouls, that would have * M. d'Alembert fays, that a king who does his duty is of all men the moſt miferable; and that he who does it not, is of all others the moſt to be. pitied. But why is the king who does his duty the moſt miferable? Is it from the multiplicity of his labours? No; a happy labour is a real pleaſure. Does he make no account of that inward fatis- faction which arifes from a confcioufnefs of having pro- moted the happineſs of mankind? Does he not believe that virtue is its own reward? Beloved by all except the wicked, cap the heart of fuch a king be infenfible to pleaſure? Who has not felt the fatisfaction that refults from doing good ? The king who does not fulfil his duty is the moll to be pitied. Nothing more true, especially if he be fenfible to remorfe and infamy; if he be not, he is fill more to be pitied. Nothing more juft than this laft propofition. 1 *It is good in every ftate, even in a republic, to have a limited chief. It is a fort of spectre, that drives away all I projects THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 265 have been but mean, owe their virtue to that internal fource of greatnefs. The citizen is not ſeparated from the ſtate; he is incorporated with it*, and, in return, he ſhows with what zeal he exerts himſelf, in all that can intereſt its glory. "Every act publiſhed by the fenate, explains, in a few words, its origin and its defign. We cannot conceive how it was poffible in your age, that pre- tended fo much difcernment, for magiftrates to dare, in their furly pride, to publiſh dogmatic arrets, like the decrees of the theologians. As if the law was not the public reafon, or it was not neceffary that the people ſhould be inſtructed, in order to their more ready obedience. Thoſe ancient magiftrates, who called themſelves the fathers of their country, muſt have been ignorant of the great art of perfuafion; that art which acts fo powerfully, and without labour; or rather, they must have had no fixed point of view, no determinate courfe, but fome- times riotous and feditious, and fometimes creep- ing flaves, they flattered or haraffed the throne: by turns projects from the mind of the ambitious. Royalty in this cafe is like a ſcare-crow in a field, that prevents the birds from feeding upon the corn. ** They who have faid, that in a monarchy, the king is the depofitory of the will of the people, have afferted an abfurdity. There is, in fact, 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; "A&t for us," after you have clearly understood what is our will. A a 266 THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. turns wrangling for trifles, and felling the people for a bribe. "You will readily believe that we have diſcarded thoſe magiftrates, accustomed from their youth to all that infenfiblity which is neceffary coolly to difpof of the property, the honour, and lives of their fellow- citizens. Bold in defence of their meaneft privileges, careleſs of what concerned the public welfare, they funk at laſt into a perpetual indolence, and even fpared others the trouble of corrupting them. Very different are our magiftrates; the title of fathers of their country, with which we honour them, they merit in the fullest extent of the term. "The reins of government are now committed to wife 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 himſelf is fenfible that they hang over his head*. His vigilance renders the fenators more * Every government where one man alone is above the laws, and can violate them with impunity, muſt be iniqui- tous and unhappy. In vain has a man of genius employed all his talents to make us acquiefce in the principles of an Afiatic government: they offer too great violence to human nature. Behold the proud veffel that plows the ocean, there needs but an imperceptible paffage to admit the water and cauſe her perdition. So one man that is above the law, may THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 267 ttentive to their feveral duties; the confidence he epofes in them foftens their labours, and his authority rives the neceffary force and activity to their decifions. Thus the fceptre, which oppreffed your kings, is light n the hands of our monarch. He is not a victim pompously decorated, and inceffantly a facrifice to he exigencies of the ftate; he bears that burthen only which is proportioned to the limited ftrength he has received from nature. "We have a prince that fears the Almighty, that s pious and juft, whofe heart is devoted to God and his country, who dreads the divine vengeance, and the cenfure of poſterity, and who regards a good confcience, and a fpotlefs fame, as the higheſt de- gree of felicity. It is not fo much great talents, or an may cauſe thoſe acts of injuſtice and iniquity to enter a ſtate, which, by an inevitable effect, will haften its ruin. What matters it whether we perish by one or many The mif- fortune is the fame. What imports it whether tyranny have a hundred arms, or one only, that extends itſelf over the whole empire; if it fall on every individual, if it ſpring out fresh at the very inſtant it is cat off? Befide, it is not defpotiſm that terrifies and confounds; it is its propagation. The viziers, the pachas, &c. imitate their maſters; they devour others while they expect to be devoured. In the government of Europe, their ſhocks, the fimultaneous re- action of their ſeveral bodies, affords moments of equili brium, during which the people breathe; the limits of their reſpective powers, perpetually diſordered, holds the place of liberty; and the phantom is, at leaſt confolatory to thoſe who cannot attain the reality. A a 2 268 THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. an extenſive knowledge, that does good, as the fincere defire of an upright heart that loves it, and wishes to accomplish it: Frequently the boaft- ed genius of a monarch, far from advancing the happineſs of a kingdom, is exerted in deftroying its liberties. "We have conciliated what ſeemed almoſt incom- patible, the good of the nation with that of indi- viduals. They even pretended that the general happiness of a ſtate was neceffarily diftinct from that of fome of its members. We have not eſpouſed that barbarous policy, founded either on an ignorance of juft laws, or on a contempt of the pooreft, but moſt uſeful men in the ftate. There were cruel and deteſtable laws that ſuppoſed men to be wicked; but we are much difpofed to believe that they have only become fo fince the inftitution of thoſe laws. Arbitrary power has griped the human heart, and by its irritation has rendered it enflamed and ulce- rated. "Our monarch has every neceffary power and opportunity to do good, but is prevented from do- ing evil. We repreſent the nation to him always in a favourable light; we diſplay its valour, its fidelity 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 do not admit amongſt us that claſs of men, who, under the title of nobility (which, to render it completely ridiculous, was venal) crawled about the throne, and would follow no other profeffion than that of a foldier or courtiers; who lived in idlenefs, fed their pride with old parchments, and diſplayed a deplorable fpectacle of equal vanity and mifery. Your grena- diers fhed their blood with as much intrepidity as the moſt noble among them, without rating it at fo high a price. Such a denomination, moreover, in our republic would give offence to the other orders of the ſtate. Our citizens are all equal; the only diſtinctions we know are thofe which naturally arife among men from their virtue, their genius, and induſtry†. "Befides I am much inclined to believe that fovereigns are almoſt always the moſt honeft men in their courts. The foul of Narciffus was ftill more foul than that of Nero. + Why cannot the French fuffer a republican govern- ment? Who in this kingdom is ignorant of the pre-emi- nence of the nobleffe, founded on the inſtitution itſelf, and confirmed by the cuftom of many ages? Yet when under the reign of John, the third eſtate roſe from their abject condition, they took their feat in the affembly of the nation; that haughty and barbarous nobleffe beheld it without com- motion, affociate with the orders of the kingdom, though the times were ſtill filled with prejudices of the police of the fiefs, and the profeffion of arms. The honour of the French nation, a principle ever active, and fuperior to the A a 3 wifeft 270 THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. "Befides all thoſe ramparts, thoſe barriers, and precautions uſed 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 ſuffers continual hunger and thirſt, and fleeps upon the ground. This fevere and falutary faft im- prints on his heart the most tender commiferation towards the neceffitous. Our fovereign, it is true, has no need of this penance to remind him; but it is a law of the ſtate, a facred law, conftantly followed and refpected. By the example of our monarch, every man who has any connection with govern- ment, makes it his duty to feel what is want; and is from thence more difpofed to affift thoſe who are obliged to fubmit to the imperious and cruel law of extreme neceffity* But wiſeſt inſtitutions, may therefore one day become the foul of a republic; efpecially when a taſte for philoſophy, a knowledge of political laws, and the experience of fo many evils, fhall have deftroyed that levity, that indifcretion which blafts thofe brilliant qualities that would make the French the firſt people in the univerfe; if they would well confider, ripen, and fupport their projects. * In the front of a philofopher's hermitage there was a rich and lofty mountain, favoured with the moſt benign regards of the fun. It was covered with beautiful paftures, with golden grain, with cedars and aromatic plants. Birds, the most pleafing to the fight, and delicious to the taſte, fanned the air in flocks with their wings, and filled it with their harmonious warblings. The bounding deer peopled the THE FORM OF GOVERNMENT. 27I But, I faid that thefe changes must have been long, laborious, and difficult. What efforts you muſt have made! The philofopher with a pleafing fmile, re- plied, "Good is not more difficult than evil. The human paffions are frightful obftacles; but when the mind is once convinced of its true intereft, the man becomes juſt and faithful. It ſeems to me that a fingle perfon might govern the world, if the hearts of men were diſpoſed to toleration and equity. Not- withſtanding the common inconfequence of thofe of your the woods. Some genial lakes produced in their filver waters the trout, the perch, and dace. Three hundred familes were fpread over this mountain, and there found a bleft abode, in the midſt of peace and plenty, and in the bofom of thofe virtues they conftantly practifed: each morn and eve they fent their grateful thanks to heaven. But behold the indolent and voluptuous Ofman mounts the throne, and all theſe families are preſently ruined, driven from their abodes, and become vagabonds upon the earth. The beauteous mountain was feized by his vizier, a noble robber, who feafted his dogs, his concubines, and his flat- terers with the plunder of the unhappy people. Ofman one day loſing himſelf in the chace, met the philofopher, whofe hut had eſcaped that torrent which had ſwept all elfe before it. The philofopher recollected the monarch, with- out his fufpecting it: he treated him with a noble courteſy. They talked of the preſent times.-" Alas! faid the fage old man, we knew what pleaſure was fome ten years fince ; but now all fuffers; extreme poverty has drove the poor from their habitations; wrings their fouls, and each day fees them go drooping to the grave, oppreffed by extreme milery."—" Pray tell me, faid the monarch, what is that mifery?" The philoſopher ſighed, remained filent, and fet the prince in the way, to his palace. 272 THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. your age, it was foreſeen that reaſon would one day make a great progrefs; its effects have become vifi- ble, and the happy principles of a wife government have been the firſt fruits of its reformation." CHAP. XXXVII. THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. MORE inquifitive than was ever the bailiff of Huron*, I continued to exerciſe the patience of my companions. I have feen the monarch on his throne, but I forgot to afk, Gentlemen, where was the king's fon; whom in my time they called the dauphin. One of the most polite among them re- plied: "As we are convinced that it is on the education of the great that depends the happineſs of the people, and that virtue is learned as vice is communicated, we watch with the greateſt affiduity over the early years of our princes. The heir to the throne is not at court, where fome flatterers would dare to per- ſuade him that he is fomething more than other men, and that they are leſs than infects. His high deſtiny is * The Huron, or the Candid Man, a romance by Vol- taire, and one of the beſt his pen has produced. The Hu ron confined in the Baftile with a Janfenift, is of all things in the world the moſt happily imagined. THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. 273 is carefully conccaled 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 whofe difcreet fidelity has been as well proved as their probity. They take a folemn oath before the Supreme Being never to reveal to the prince that he is one day to be king: a tremendous oath, and which they never dare to violate. "As foon as he comes out of the hands of the women he is inured to exercife; and regard is had to his natural education, which fhould always precede the moral. He is cloathed like the fon of a common peafant; he is accuſtomed to the plaineſt meats; and is early taught fobriety; he will be the better able hereafter to teach economy by his own example, and to know that a falfe prodigality ruins a ftate, and diſhonours thoſe that promote it. He travels, fucceffively through all the provinces; they explain to him the various labours of the husbandman, the different manufactures, and the productions of the feveral foils; he fees all things with his own eyes; he enters the hut of the ploughman, eats at his table, affifts in his labours, and learns to refpect him. He converfes freely with every man he meets; his cha racter is fuffered to difplay itſelf freely, while he thinks himſelf as far diftant from the throne as he is near to it. "Many kings have become tyrants, not becauſe they had bad hearts, but becauſe they never knew the real 274 THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. * real ſtate of the common people of their country If we were to abandon a young prince to the flatter- ing idea of a certain power, perhaps even with a vir- tuous mind, confidering the unhappy difpofition of the human heart, he would at laſt endeavour to ex- tend the limits of his authority t. For in that it is that many princes unhappily make the royal gran- deur to confift; and confequently their intereft 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 conducted to the hall of audience; he mixes with the crowd as a common fpectator; all the orders of the ftate are then preſent, and all have received their inftructions. On a fudden the king rifes, * Prejudice conftantly attends the throne, ready to pour its errors into the ears of kings. Timorous Truth is in doubt of obtaining a victory over them, and waits for the fignal to approach; but fhe fpeaks fo ftrange a language, that they turn to thofe deceitful phantoms that are maſters of the common dialect. Kings! learn the fevere philofo- phic language of truth! It is in vain that you feek her, if you underſtand her not. + Men have a natural diſpoſition 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 ſtories, on pain of being ſtrangled. Other monarchs hold pretty much the fame language, when they ſay to the people, Divert me, and die with hunger. THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. 275 (( rifes, and calls the young man three times by his name; the crowds of people open; aſtoniſhed, he ad- vances with timid ſteps toward the throne, and trem- bling mounts the ſteps; the king embraces him, and declares him in the fight of all the people to be his fon. "Heaven," he fays with an affecting and ma- jeſtic voice, "Heaven has deſtined thee to bear the "burden of royalty; we have laboured for twenty 66 years to render thee worthy of it; do not fruſtrate "the hopes of this great people that you fee before you. My fon, I expect from you the fame zeal that "I have ſhown for this nation." What a crifis! what a crowd of ideas prefs upon his mind! The monarch then fhows him the tomb where refts the preceding king; that tomb on which is engraved in large characters, ETERNITY. He proceeds with the fame awful voice; "My fon, all has been done "for this moment. You now ftand on the aſhes. of "your grandfather; in you he is to revive; fwear "to be juſt as he was. I fhall foon deſcend to ſupply "his place; but remember that I fhall accufe you " from this tomb if you abuſe 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 effects; renounce the diadem, "deſcend from the throne, and mix again with the people; you will be greater and more reſpectable as a common citizen, than as a vain and daftardly "monarch. Let not the chimera of authority flat- "ter your young heart, but the great and pleafing "idea 276 THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. "idea of being really uſeful to mankind; I promiſe C6 you for recompence the love of this people that "furrounds us; of my affection, the eſteem of the "world, and the affiftance of the Monarch of the "univerfe; it is he that is King, my fon, we are only "his agents, that are fent upon the earth to accom- "pliſh his great defigns*." "The young prince is furprifed and affected, his viſage is covered with a modeſt ſhame; he dares not look upon that great affembly, whofe regards are eagerly fixed on him. His tears begin to flow; he weeps at the profpect of his extenfive duties; but foon an heroic ſpirit poffeffes him; he is taught that a great man ought to facrifice himſelf for the good of mankind; and that as nature has not prepared for man a happineſs without allay, it is by that benign power which the nation has depofited with him, that he is enabled to do that for them which nature has refuſed. That noble idea penetrates, animates, in- flames him; the oathis are adminiſtered to him by his father; he calls the facred afhes of his grandfather to witnefs his fincerity; he adores the Supreme Be- ing; * Garnier caufes it to be faid to Nabuchedonofer, puffed up with his power and his victories, "Who is that God who commands the rain, the winds and the tempeſts ? Over whom reigns he? Over the feas, the rocks, &c." To which he replies, “Inſenſible ſubjects! I command over men; I am the only God of this earth where we dwell. Infenfibles fujets! moi je commande aux hommes; Je fuis l'unique Dieu de la terre ou nous fommes. 2 THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. 277 ing; he is crowned. The orders of the ftate falute him, and the people with tranfports of joy cry out, "O thou that art taken from amongst us, whom "we have fo long and fo nearly beheld, may the pre- ftiges of greatneſs never make thee forget who thou (f art, and who we are*." 46 "He cannot mount the throne, till the age of two and twenty; for it is repugnant to common ſenſe, that a nation ſhould be governed by an infant king. For a like reafon the king lays down the fceptre at the age of feventy years, becaufe the art of governing requires an activity of body, and a certain fenfibility, which unlucky age extinguifhes in the human mind†. Befide, we are fearful left habit ſhould pro- duce in his mind that concentrated ambition they call avarice, which is the laft and moſt rueful paffion that *The Greeks and Romans experienced fenfations far more poignant than ours. A religion altogether fenfible; thofe frequent occurrences that concerned the grand intereſt of the republic; a ftate dignity that was awful without being fatuous; the acclamations of the people; the affem- blies of the nation, and the public harangues; what an in- exhauftible fource of pleafures! When compared with thofe people, we feem but to languifh, or fearce to exiſt. How pleafing is it when years have whitened our heads, to be able to retire, and reflect on thoſe acts of humanity and beneficence that we have performed in the course of our days! Of all that we now are there will then nought remain but the fenfation of having been virtuous, or the fhame and torment of vice. B b 278 THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. that man has to encounter *. The inheritance is in the line direct, and the feptuagenary monarch ftill ferves the ſtate by his councils, or by the example of his past virtues. The time between the public ac knowledgment of the prince, and the day of his ma- jority, is ſtill fubject to new proofs. They conftantly talk to him by ftrong and fenfible images. If they would prove, that kings are not otherwife formed than common men; that they have not a hair more on their heads; that they are equally weak at their entrance into this world; equal in infirmities, and equal in the fight of God, and that the fuffrage of the people is the fole baſis of their grandeur; they introduce by way of diverfion, a young porter of his fize and age, and they wreſtle together; though the king's fon be vigorous, he is commonly overcome; the other continues the attack till the prince is forced to own the defeat. They raiſe 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 a flave; that monarchs are born men, and not kings; in a word, that the human race were not created for the pleaſure 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 flaves, is to act with temerity * Prodigality is equally to be feared. A young prince will fometimes refufe, becauſe he has that in him which may atone for refuſal; but the old man conftantly confents, be- cauſe he has nothing to fupply the vacuity of the want of liberality. THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. 279 temerity toward the fupreme Being, and to exerciſe tyranny over the race of mankind." The young man who had conquered, then bows before him, and fays, "I may be ſtronger than you, but there is "neither right nor glory in that; true ftrength is "equity, and true glory greatnefs of mind. I render "you homage as my fovereign, and the depofitory "of the force of every individual; when any one "would tyrannize over me, it is to you I muft fly "for fuccour; you will then hear and fave me from "the unjuſt and powerful." • "If the young prince commits any remarkable fault or imprudence, the next day he fees it in the public ´papers* ; he is fometimes aftonifhed and offended. They answer him coolly, "It is a faith- "ful and vigilant tribunal, that records each day the "actions of princes. Pofterity will know and judge "all that you have faid and done; it depends on "yourſelf to make them fpeak honourably of you." If the young prince reflect, and acknowledge his fault, then the papers of the next day declare that token of a happy. character, and give to the noble action all the eulogy it defervest. "But * I could wiſh that a prince had ſometimes the curioſity to know what the people think of him; he would learn enough in a quarter of an hour to afford him matter of reflec- tion all the reſt of his life. + You fay, "I fear not the fword of man. I am brave." But you deceive yourself. To be truly brave you muſt B b z fear 280 THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. "But what they moft ftrongly recommend, and imprefs on him by multiplied images, is a horror of that vain pageantry, which has deftroyed fo many ftates, and difhonoured fo many fovereigns*. Thofe gilded palaces, fay they, are like the decorations of a theatre, where paper appears to be maffy gold. The child imagines that it beholds a real palace. Be not a child. Pomp and oftentation are abufes, in- troduced by pride and policy. They difplay that parade to inſpire the greater refpect and fear. By that means the ſubject contracts a fervile difpofition, and becomes accuſtomed to the yoke. But is a king ever debafed by putting himſelf on a level with his fubjects? What are thofe inceffant empty fhews, in compariſon with that open and affable manner that attracts the affections of all the people to his perfon? The wants of a monarch are not lefs than thoſe of the meanest of his fubjects. There is no difference between his ftomach and that of a clown, fays J. J. Rouffeau. If he would tafte the pureft of all plea- fures, let him talte that of being beloved, and let him render himſelf worthy of it. "To fear neither their tongues nor their pens. But in this cafe, the greateſt kings of the earth have ever been the greateſt poltroons. The Gazette of Amfterdam prevented Louis XIV. from fleeping. *That luxury, which is the caufe of the deftruction of ftates, and that tramples under foot every virtue, takes its fource from corrupted hearts, and which all others copy after. + Duke *** of Wirtemberg, the firſt of that name, was dining with a fovereign prince, his neighbour, and ſome othe THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. 281 "To conclude: there paffes no day on which he is not reminded of the exiſtence of a fupreme Being, whofe eye conftantly furveys this world; of the duty that he owes him, of a reverence for his providence, and a confidence in his infinite wifdom. The moft horrid of all beings is without doubt an atheiflical king: I had far rather be in a veffel toffed by the tempeft, and directed by a drunken pilot; I fhould at leaſt 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 fend in queft of a foreign wife, who frequently brings from her country a difpofition, which being widely different from the nanners of our nation, baſtardizes the blood of France, and caufes us to be governed by Spaniards or Italians, rather than by the defcendants of our brave ancellors. Our king does not offer that infult to a whole nation, to imagine that beauty and virtue are to be found in a foreign foil only. She who, in the courſe of his journeys, has touched his heart, 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 pretenſions, the Duke faid, “I do not envy any one of you that power which God has given you, but there is one thing of which I can boaft, which is, that in my little ftate 1 can walk at all hours alone, and in fecurity. I ramble among the woods, I lay me down to fleep under fome tree, quite unconcern- ed, for I fear neither the fword of a robber, nor of an in- jured fubjećt. Bb3 282 THE HEIR TO THE THRONE. A with her lover, and becomes dear and refpectable to the nation, as well from her own virtues, as for having been able to pleaſe a hero. Befide the ad- vantage of infpiring all the young women with a love of wisdom and virtue, by fetting before them a recom- pence worthy of their efforts, we hereby avoid all thofe family wars, that are abfolutely foreign to the intereft of the ftate, and that have fo often defolated Europe*. "On the day of his marriage, inſtead of foolishly fquandering money in pompous and tirefome feafts, in fenfelefs and guady fhews, in fire-works, and other expences equally extravagant and difguftful, the prince erects fome public monument, as a bridge, an aqueduct, a public road, a canal, or a theatre. This monument bears his name. We remember his bene- faction, while thofe irrational profufions are forgot, or only remembered by the horrid accidents they occafioned. The people, fatisfied with the gene- rofity * Moft of our wars have proceeded, as every one knows, from thofe alliances that are pretended to be political. If indeed Europe and Africa could efpoufe Afia and America, well and good. + Shall I here recall the horrible night of the 30th of March, 1770? It will eternally accuſe our police, that is favourable to the rich alone, and that protects the barbarous luxury of carriages. It was by them that horrid difafter was Carriages are far more dangerous in Paris than London, as they drive much faſter, and there is no feparate path for foot paffengers. . THE HEIR TO, THE THRONE. 283 rofity of their prince, are under no temptation to whiſper to each other that ancient fable, in which the poor frog laments in his marth the fight of the nuptials of the fun* CHAP. was occafioned. But if this dreadful accident has produced no ſtrict ordinance by which the citizens may walk the ſtreets without danger, what are we to expect of other evils that are more deeply rooted, and more difficult to remedy? Near eight hundred perfons periſhed by being crowded together, and fix weeks after it was not mentioned. * I met, in a piece of poetry, with theſe verſes: Ces rois enorgueillis de leur grandeur fupréme, Ce font des mendians que couvre un diadême. : "Thefe puffed-up monarchs, with their mighty grandeur, are nothing more than beggars covered with a crown." In fact, they are craving inceffantly it is the people that pay for the robes of the pompous bride; for the feaſts, the fire-works, the embroidery of the nuptial bed, &c. and when the royal babe is born, cach one of its cries is me- tamorphofed into a new tax. : [ 284 ] CHAP. XXXVIII. THE WOMEN. My affable and polite inftructor continued in the fame free manner." You fhould know that our women have no other portion than their virtue and their charms; they are, therefore, intereſted in improving their moral faculties. By this ftroke of legiflation we have deftroyed the hydra, Coquetry, fo fruitful of contention, of vices and ridicule.-" How! no portion? the women bring nothing with them? and who will marry them?" Women have no portion, becauſe they are by nature dependant on that fex from whom they derive their ftrength and glory, and that nothing may with-hold them from that legitimate empire, which is conftantly lefs ter- rible than the yoke they give themſelves in their fatal liberty. Beſides, 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 feems to do her huſband a favour by accepting him*. Every man is bound to provide for his wife; and * An Athenian lady aſked a Lacedemonian, what portion The brought her huſband? "Chaſtity," the replied¶. It is no uncommon thing for a modern lady to bring her huſband this portion, though he may chance to difpofe of it afterwards for her own private emolument. THE WOMEN. 285 and fhe, depending entirely on her husband, is the better difpofed to fidelity and obedience. The law being univerſal, no one can complain. The women have no other diftinction than what is reflected on them by their husbands. Conftantly fubmiffive te the duties that their fex requires, their honour is to obferve the ſtrict laws that reſult from them, by which alone they can fecure their happineſs. "Every citizen that has not defamed himſelf, though he fhould be of the loweſt claſs, may claim a daughter of the higheſt, provided fhe confent, and there be no feduction or difproportion of age. Every one refumes the primitive equality of nature in form- ing a contract fo pure, fo free, and fo neceffary to our happineſs, as is that of matrimony. There ends the bounds of paternal power*, and that of civil authority. Our marriages are fortunate, be- caufe intereft, which corrupts all things, does not foil * How indecent, how monftrous is it, to ſee a father ap- peal to twenty tribunals, animated by a barbarous pride that will not let him give his daughter to a man, because he had fecretly deſtined her for another. He dares, in this cafe, to cite civil ordinances, while he forgets the most 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 happiness. It is a re- markable and melancholy circumftance, that in this age the number of bad parents has exceeded that of unnatural children, Where is the fource of this evil? Alas! in our laws. 286 THE WOMEN. foil their amiable bands. You cannot eaſily imagine how many vices and foibles, fuch as flander, jealouſy, idlenefs, the pride of excelling a rival, crimes of every kind, have been banifhed by this fimple law *. Wo- men, inſtead of exercifing their vanity, have culti vated their minds; and in lieu of riches, have furniſhed themſelves with gentlenefs, modefty, and patience. Mufic and dancing no longer form their principal accompliſhments; they have vouchſafed to learn the arts of œconomy, of pleafing their huſbands, and educating their children. That extreme inequality of rank and fortune, the moſt deſtructive vice in every political fociety, is here no longer feen; the meaneſt citizen has no reafon to blufh at his condition; he affociates with the higheft, who difdains not his connection. The law has equalled mankind to the greatest degree in its power; inſtead of creating thofe injurious diftinctions, that produce nothing but pride on one fide, and hatred on the other, it has been folicitous to deftroy all thofe obftacles that might divide the children of the fame mother. "Our wives are, what were thofe of the ancient Gauls, fincere and amiable companions whom we reſpect and conſult on all occafions. They do not affect that miſerable jargon ſo much in vogue among you * Nature has deftined women to domeftic employments, and to cares every where of the fame kind. They have much leſs variety in their characters than have men; almoſt all women reſemble each other; they have but one end, and which they manifeft in every country by fimilar effects, THE WOMEN, 287 1 you, and which they called wit*. They do not buſy themſelves with affigning the rank due to the feveral forts of genius; they are content with good fenſe, a qualification far preferable to thofe artificial flashes that are the wretched amuſements of idleneſs. Love, the fruitful fource of the moſt excellent virtues, pre- fides over, and guards the intereſt of our country. The more happineſs we enjoy in her hofom, the more dear fhe becomes. Judge then what is our attach- ment to her. The women, doubtleſs, make a part of this felicity. Instead of thoſe empty and faſtidious pleaſures, which they purſued from vanity, they now enjoy all our tenderneſs and eſteem, and find a feli- city more folid and more pure in the poffeffion of our hearts, than in, thofe tranfient pleafures, whofe very purſuit was attended with anxiety. Charged with the care of fuperintending the firſt years of our children, they have no other preceptors; for being more fagacious and vigilant than they were in your days, they are more fenfible of the delicious pleaſure of being mothers in the full extent of the term.” But, I ſaid, notwithſtanding all your improvements, man is ſtill man, liable to weakneſs, humour, and diſguft. * A woman ſhews very little diſcretion, who is defirous of fhewing her wit upon every occafion. She ought, on the contrary, to uſe all her art to conceal it. In fact, what is it we men look after? Innocence, candour, fimplicity, truth, an intereſting timidity. A woman that diſplays her wit feems to fay to you, "Sir, addreſs yourſelf to me; I am a woman of wit; I fhall be more perfidious, perverfe, and artful than another." 238 THE WOMEN. difguft. If Difcord, with her torch, fhould take the place of Hymen, what do you then? Are divorces permitted*?" Doubtlefs, when they are founded on * Nicholas I. erecting himself into the reformer of the laws divine, natural, and civil, abrogated divorces in the ninth century. They were then in uſe among all the peo- ple of the earth, authorifed by Jews and Chriftians. How ftrange is the lot of human kind? One man alone has de.. prived them of a precious liberty; of a civil contract has made a facrcd indiffoluble chain, and for ever fomented do- meſtic variance. Many paft ages have given to that fooliſh and whimſical law an inviolable ſanction; and thoſe intef- tine wars that diſtract the domeftic economy and promote the depopulation of ſtates, are the fruits of the caprice of a pontiff. It is evident, that were divorces permitted, mar- riages would be more happy¶. We ſhould be leſs fearful of forming a contract, when we knew that it could not bind us to mifery.. The wife would be more attentive and ſub- miflive. The durability of the band depending on the will of the parties bound, would become more ſtrong. Popula. tion, moreover, being far below its true ſtandard, it is to the There are no divorces permitted in France, not even in cale of the moſt flagrant adultery. They," fays the lordly pricft, "whom God," that is, I and my church," has put to- gether, no man can put afuuder." The only refource for the huſband is to petit:on the king; and if, by great chance, he have intereft fufficient, the wife is fent to a convent; where the will pafs her time difagreeably 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 first quality, who was fent to a monaftery, and early the next morning, the good abbefs came to her bed-fide, and gave her a long lecture on the ful.ject of incontinence-The gallant all the while lay fnug under the bed clothes, I THE WOMEN. 289- on legitimate reaſons; as when both parties, for ex- ample, folicit a divorce at the fame time; an incom- patibility of humours is fufficient to diffolve the band. People marry only to be happy. It is a contract of which peace and mutual regard fhould be the end. We are not fo fenfelefs as to force two people to live together, whofe hearts are eſtranged from each other, and thereby to renew the puniſhment of the cruel Mezentius, who faftened a living body to a loath- fome carcafe. A divorce is the only eligible remedy, as it at leaſt renders to fociety two perfons that are loft by their connection with each other. But (would you believe it?) the greater the facility is, the more averſe they are to profit by it, as there is a ſort of difhonour in not being able to bear together the troubles of a tranfient life. Our women, virtuous by principle, are delighted with domeftic pleaſures. We are always happy when our duty coincides with our defires; nothing is then difficult, all things bear a pleafing afpect.” O how the indiffolubility of marriages that we ought to attribute the ſecret caufe of that evil which undermines the catholic monarchies. If it fhould be tolerated for any confiderable time longer, and celibacy ſhould continue to prevail among them, (the fruit of a wretched adminiſtration) together with the ecclefiaftic celibacy which feems to be of right divine, they will have none but enervated troops to oppoſe the nu- merous, healthful, and robuſt armies of thoſe people who permit divorces. The fewer fingle people there are in a ftate, the more chafte, happy, and fruitful marriages will be. The diminution of the human race neceffarily tends to the total ruin of an empire. Cc 1 290 THE WOMEN. • O how unfortunate I am to be fo old! I exclaimed; I would immediately marry one of thefe amiable women. Ours were fo haughty and infolent, and, for the most part fo faithlefs, fo badly educated, that marriage was regarded as an egregious folly. Co- quetry, with an immoderate love of pleaſure, and an abfolute unconcern for every thing but themſelves, compofed the character of a woman of my time. They derided all fort of ſenſibility, and had ſcarce any humanity but towards their gallants. Every tafte but that of luxury was in a manner a ſtranger to their minds. Ifpeak not of modefty, for that was cfteemed ridiculous. Therefore, a prudent man being to chooſe of two evils, preferred celibacy as the leaſt. The difficulty of bringing a child up, was an argu- ment not lefs ftrong. Men avoided giving children to a flate that would load them with diftrefs. So the generous elephant, once made captive, refufes to in- dulge himſelf in the moſt pleaſing inſtinct, that he may not entail flavery on his pofterity. The huſband himſelf, in the midſt of his anxiety, watched an op- 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 neceffarily re- doubled their mifery; the wretched virgins, fixed, to the foil where they were born, languiſhed like flowers, that, fcorched by the fun, turn pale, and drop from their ſtalks; the greater part carried with them, even to the grave, the defire of being wives; difgu t and anxiety embittered every moment of their days; and they could not procure any atonement for that privation, but by the riſk of their honour, and the lofs THE WOMEN. 291 lofs of their health. In fhort, the number of ſingle perfons was become frightfully great; and, to com- plete the miſery, reaſon ſeemed to juſtify that outrage to humanity*. But proceed, that you may comfort me by defcribing a pleaſing picture of your manners? How were you able to drive away that plague, which threatened to devour the human race? My guide raiſed 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 becauſe he fhuns fociety, and confines all his cares to himſelf. Our induſtry is confumed on futile objects; and thoſe that would enrich us we neglect. By forming man. for fociety, Providence has placed by our misfortunes thofe aids that are deſtined to relieve them. ftronger obligation is there than mutually to affiſt each other? Is it not the general defiie of mankind? Why then does he fo frequently mistake his intereft? What "I repeat The * A tafte for celibacy will begin to prevail when a go- vernment is become as bad as it poffibly can be. citizen detached from the moft pleafing connection, will infenfibly detach himſelf from the love of life itſelf; fuicide will be frequent; the art of living will become fo painful, that exiſtence itfelf will be a burden. Men can bear all the phyſical evils united; but the political evils are a hundred times more horrible, becauſe they are not neceffary. Man curfes that fociety which ought to alleviate his pains and break his fetters. They reckoned at Paris, in the year 1769, one hundred and forty-feven perfons who put an end to their own lives. Cc 2 292 THE WOMEN. "I repeat it; our women are wives and mothers; and from thoſe two virtues all others are derived. They would difhonour themſelves, were they to daub their faces with paint, or ftuff their heads with fnuff, or debauch their ftomach with drams; if they were to fit up all night, or fing licentious ſongs, or practiſe the leaſt indecency with men. They have more certain attractions; gentlenefs, modefty, the native graces, and that noble decency, which are their inhe- ritance, and their true glory *. They fuckle their own children without think. ing it a labour; and as it is done without affectation, their milk is pure and plentiful. The body of the child is early invigorated; he is taught to fwim, to hurl, and to carry burdens. The bodily education appears to us of importance; we form his conftitu- tion before we excrcife his mind, which fhould not be that of a parrot, but that of a man. "His mother watches over the morning of his rifing thoughts; fhe reflects on the method to be purfued in forming his mind to virtue; how fhe fhall turn his fenfibility into humanity, his pride into greatneſs of foul, and his curiofity into a knowledge of fublime truths. She meditates on thoſe engaging. fables ſhe ſhall ufe, not to conceal the truth, but to render While the women govern in France, while all things are made to conform to their tafte, while they judge of the genius and merit of men, the French will never have that ftability, that fage economy, that gravity, nor that nervous character which becomes free men. THE WOMEN. 293 render it more amiable; that its luftre may not dazzle the weakneſs of his inexperienced mind; ſhe carefully weighs all her words and actions, that no one of them may make a bad impreſſion on his heart. Thus fhe preſerves him from that breath of vice, by which the flower of innocence is fo fuddenly withered. "Education differs among us according to the ſtation the child is hereafter to hold in fociety; for though we are delivered from the yoke of pedantry, it would be ftill ridiculous to teach him what he mult hereafter forget. Each art is unfathomable, and to excel in it requires our whole attention. The mind- of man, notwithstanding all thofe aids recently dif covered, miracles apart, is not able to embrace more than one object; it is fufficient for him to attach himself ftrongly to that, without attempting excur- fions that cannot but diftract 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 diſtinguiſh thofe connections by which he is united to fociety, then inftead of that futile knowledge with which the minds of youth are indifcriminately 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 ſeaſon, when nature, dreſſed in all her ſplendor, ſpeaks. to the moſt infenfible heart, when the genial breath of fpring has decorated the groves, the fields, and forests, T Cc3 294 THE WOMEN. foreſts, with all their ornaments. "My fon," fhe fays, preffing him to her maternal bofom*, "behold "theſe verdant fields, thefe trees adorned with ſpread- "ing branches; it is not long fince, that, deprived of "all their ornaments, they were 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 thence beholds, with "the kindneſs of a father, all his creatures. At the "moment that he fmiles, the fun darts its rays, the "trees flourish, the earth is crowned with flowers, "and with herbs for the nouriſhment of thoſe beafts "whofe milk we drink. And why do we ſo love "the Lord? Hear, O my child! it is becaufe he is 66 powerful and good; all that you fee is the work of "his hands, and all this is nothing to what is con- "cealed from you. Eternity, for which every in- "mortal foul was created, will afford thee an end- "lefs proceffion of joy and wonder. His power and goodneſs know no bounds; he loves us, becauſe "we are his children; from day to day he will fhow "us greater kindneſs, if we are virtuous, that is, if "we obey his laws. O! my fon, how can we but adore “and blefs his name!" At theſe words, the mother and the child fall proftrate, and their united prayers afcend together to the throne of the Almighty. "It * Cebes repreſents impoſture as fitting at the gate that leads to life, and obliging all who prefent themſelves to drink of the cup of error. That cup is fuperftition. Happy are they who only taſte it, and then throw the velfel away, THE WOMEN. 295 "It is thus that fhe poffeffes him with the idea of a God, that fhe nourishes his foul with the milk of of truth, and that ſhe fays to herſelf, " I will fulfil "the will of the Creator who has committed him to (6 my care. I will be fevere to thoſe baneful paffions "that may injure his happinefs; to the tenderness "of a 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 infinities. Such is our edu. cation; it is, as you fee, altogether fentimental; we deteft that jeering wit, which was the most terrible fcourge of your age; it dried up, it burned all it touched; its buffooneries were the fource of all your vices. But, if a frivolous difpofition be fo dangerous, what is reafon itſelf without fentiment? A meagre frame, without colour, without grace, and almoſt without life. What are new, and even profound ideas, if they have nothing animating and affecting? What need have I of a cold truth that chills my blood? It lofes its force and its effect. It is in the heart that truth difplays its charms and its power. We cheriſh that eloquence which abounds in lively and ftriking pictures; it is that gives wings of fire to our thought; it fees and ſtrikes the object; it be- comes attached to it, becauſe the pleaſure of being affected is joined to that of being enlightened*.. "Our * We reckon more on exterior manners, that is, upon. cuſtom, than on any thing elſe, for which reaſon it is that We 296 THE WOMEN. "Our philofophy, therefore, is not fevere; and why ſhould it be fo? Why not crown it with flowers? Are diſguſtful or mournful ideas more honourable to virtue than thoſe that are pleafing and falutary? We think, that pleaſure, proceeding from a bene- ficent hand, is not fent upon earth to make us fhun its approach. Pleafure is not a monster; it is, as Young fays, virtue under a gayer title. Far from endeavouring to deſtroy the paffions, the inviſible movers of our being, we regard them as precious gifts that we fhould carefully economife. Happy is the man endowed with frong paflions; they form. his glory, his grandeur, and his opulence. A wife man among us cultivates his mind, difcards his pre- judices, and acquires ufeful and agreeable feiences. All the arts that can extend his judgment and render it more difcerning, are exercifed and improved by his mind; that done, he attends to the voice of nature only, we neglect education. The ancients treated each ſubject in a manner altogether fentimental, and threw on the ſciences I know not what allurement, the fecret of which is loft to us. The genius of the moderns is conftantly defective for want of fentiment. The moſt happy talents are become callous under the ferule of pedantry. Is there in the world a more ridiculous inftitution 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 attractions which charm that tender age? Our preceptors appear like favage mafters; it is no wonder, therefore, that their diſciples are the firft to avoid and fly from them. THE WOMEN. 297 only, fubject to the law of reafon, and reafon directs him to happiness*. * The warmth of the paffions is not the caufe of our irregularities; the furious, ungovernable courfer, that runs away with the bad rider, that throws and tramples him under foot, 'is obedient to the bridle under the direction of a ſkil- ful matter; and gains the prize in a glorious courfe. The weaknels of paffions diſcovers a poverty of nature. What, in fact, is that heavy, filent citizen, whofe infipid foul is void of all fenfibility; who is peaceful, becauſe he is in- capable of action; who vegetates, and fuffers himſelf to be eaſily led by the magiftrate, becauſe he has no defires? Is he a man, or a ftatue? Place by him a man full of lively. fentiments, who rides upon the impetuofity of his paſſious. He tears off the veil from the fciences; he will commit. faults, and he will difplay his genius. An enemy to repoſe, and thirſting after knowledge, he will draw from the com motions of the world a. luminous and fublime fpirit that will enlighten his.country.. he will afford, perhaps, occafion · for cenfure; but he will have exerted all the energy of his faul; the ſpots in his character will diſappear, becauſe he will be greatly uſeful to mankind, + : : CHAP. [ 298 ] CHAP. XXXIX. THE TAXES TELL me, I beseech you, how are your public taxes levied? for let the legiflature be as perfect as it may, taxes, I think, muft always be paid. My friends hear this apologue. Toward the beginning of the world there was a vaft foreft of citron trees, that bore the most beautiful, large and pleaſant fruit. The branches bent under their burthens, and the air far round was embalmed with their fragrant odour. The impetuous winds chanced to blow down feveral citrons, and to break fome of the branches: certain travellers paſſing that way, quenched their thirſt with the juice of the fruit, and caft away the rind. This accident induced the race of citron- trees to chooſe guardians, who were to drive away paffen- gers, and to incloſe the foreft with high walls, to oppoſe the fury of the winds. Theſe guardians appeared at firft faithful and difintereſted, but they foon found that fuch hard labour produced a violent thirft; they therefore made this propo- fition to the citrons: "Gentlemen, we are ready to periſh by thirſt in labouring for you; permit us to make a ſmall incifion in each of you, that we may have a drop of liquor to refresh our parched throats; you will not be poorer, and we and our children fhall thereby acquire fresh ftrength for your fervice." The credulous citrons thought this requeft not unreafon- able, and fubmitted to the imperceptible contribution. But what was the confequence? When the incifion was once made, the hands of meffieurs, the guardians, preffed them THE TAXES. 249 paid. As a full anfwer, the worthy man, my con- ductor took me by the hand, and led me to a ſpacious place, formed by the termination of four ſtreets. I obferved a ſtrong cheft that was twelve feet high; it was fupported on four wheels; there was a ſmall opening at top, which was fecured from the rain by a kind of awning; on this cheft was wrote, Trilule due to the King reprefenting the ftate. Hard by was another cheft, of a fmaller fize, with theſe words; Free gifts. I faw feveral people, with eafy, cheerful, contented looks, throw fealed packets into the cheft, as in our days they threw letters into the poſt-office. I was fo aftonifhed at this eafy manner of paying taxes, that I made a thouſand ridiculous inquiries : they therefore regarded me as a poor old man that was come from a far diftant country; yet their in- dulgent affability would never fuffer me to wait for a reply. I confefs that it is only in a dream a man 4 can them every day more clufely. They at laft found that citron juice was neceffary in all their food; they obferved too that the clofer they preffed the fruit, the more juice it yielded. The citrons feeing themfelves thus profufely bled, thought to have reduced their contribution to the primitive ftipulation; but the guardians, grown more ftrong, difregarding all their complaint, put them in the prefs; and when nothing else remained, they forced a juice from the rinds, by the aid of terrible machines. They at laſt bathed themſelves in the juice of citrons. The beautiful foreſt was foon defpoiled; the race of citrons became extinct; and their tyrants, habituated to that refreſhing liquor, by their prodigality had totally deprived themſelves of it. They all fell fick, and died of the putrid fever. Amen, fo be it. 300 THE TAXES. can expect to meet with people fo extremely complai- fant. O, what a loyal nation! "That large coffer you fee, they ſaid, is our receiver-general of the finances. It is there that every citizen depoſits his contribution for the fupport of the ſtate. We are there obliged to depoſit the fiftieth part of our annual income. He that has no property, or what is only juſt fufficient for his main- tenance, is exempt*; for why Ihould we take bread from "We Hear what the labourer, the inhabitant of the country, in fhort, the people, fhould fay to their fovereigns. have raiſed you over us, we have engaged our lives and properties to fupport the fecurity of your perfon. to procure us abundance, and to protect us from alarms. Who would have believed that, under your government, joy ſhould have fled from us, and that our feaſts ſhould be turned into mourning; that fear and terror ſhould have fucceeded to a pleafing confidence! Formerly our verdant fields finiled upon us, and promifed to repay our labours. Now the ſweat of our brows produces fruit for ftrangers. Our villages, that once we were pleaſed 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 yeſterday deplored. The appearance of humanity is fcarce left us, and the animals that crop the grafs are far lefs miferable. fplendor of your throne, and the You have promiſed, in return, The most heavy ſtrokes have fell upon our heads. We are difpifed by the man in power, who will not allow us to have any fenfation of honour; he comes to 'moleſt our buts, I THE TAXES. 30F from him whoſe daily labour is but fufficient for his maintenance? In the other coffer are the voluntary offerings, intended for ufeful defigns, for the execu- tion huts, and to feduce the innocence of our daughters: he fnatches them from us, and they become a prey to brutal luft. In vain do we implore the aid of juſtice; juſtice turns from us, it is deaf to our cries, and only ready to affift them that opprefs us. The parade of magnificence infults our mifery, and renders it ſtill more infupportable. They drink our blood, and forbid us to complain. The hardened wretch, fur- rounded by an infolent luxury, prides himſelf on the works that our hands have erected. While he thirfts for gold, our induſtry is forgot; he regards us as flaves, becauſe we are not riotous nor revengeful. Thofe inceffant wants that furround us have corrupted the purity of our manners: perfidy and rapine have crept in amongſt us; for the neceffities of life commonly overcome virtue. But who has given us examples of rapine? Who has extinguiſhed in our hearts that fource of candour which made us dear to each other? Who has cauſed our mifery, the mother of our vices? Many of our inhabitants havé refuſed to give exiſtence to children that must be a prey to famine in the cradle. Others, in their defpair, have blaf- phemed againſt Providence. Who are the real authors of all our crimes? May our complaints pierce through that vapour by which thrones are furrounded! May kings roufe from their lethargy, and remember that they might have been born in our ſtation, and that their children may one day deſcend to it Attached to our country, or rather forming the moſt D d effential 302 THE TAXES. tion of fuch projects as have been approved by the public. This fometimes is richer than the other; for we love liberality in our gifts, and no other motive is neceffary to excite it than equity and a love. for the ftate. Whenever our king fends forth an ufeful edit, that merits the public approbation, we run in crowds to the cheft with our marks of ac- knowledgment; he has 'but to propofe, and we furniſh him effential part of it, we do not wish to be exempt from con- tributing to its fupport. All we wish is a man of equity, who will estimate the degree of our force, and not cruſh us by a burden, which, if proportioned to our ftrength, we fhould bear with pleaſure. Then tranquil and rich in our economy, contented with our lot, we ſhould behold the grandeur of others without repining at our humble ſtation. More than the moiety of our days is already paft. Our hearts are more than half delivered of their grief: we have but a little time to live. Our prayers are more for our country than for ourſelves. It is we that fupport it: but if oppreffion fhall continually incrcafe, we muſt fink; our country will be overthrown, and by its fall it will cruſh our tyrants. We do not with for this fruitlefs and rueful vengeance. What folace can the miſeries of others afford us, when furrounded by the grave? We ſpeak to you, () fovereigns! If you be yet men, if your hearts be not totally hardened, you will yet remember that we know how to die; and that the death by which we fhall foon all be fwallowed up, will one day be to you far more dreadful 'than to us. } This note is taken, in part, from a book intitled Les "Flommes. THE TAXES. 393 him with the means of accompliſhing every important project. There is a fimilar trunk in every quarter of the city, and in every city in the provinces, which receives the contributions of the country, that is, of the farmer at his eafe, for the labourer, whoſe pro- perty is in his arms and his hands, pays nothing. The beef and the hogs are likewife exempt from that odious tax, which was firft laid on the head of the Jews*, and which you paid without being fenfible of your fervile ſtate.” How! I faid, do you leave it to the good-will of the people to pay their taxes? there must be then a great number that pay nothing, without your knowing it." Not at all; your fears are vain. In the first place, we give with a free will; our tribute is not by compulfion, but founded on reafon and equity. There is fcarce a man amongst us who does not esteem it a point of honour to difcharge the moft facred and moft legitimate of all debts. Befide, if a man in condition to pay fhould dare to neglect it, you there fee the table on which the name of the head of every family is engraved, by which we ſhould foon fee who had not thrown in his packet, on which fhould be his feal. In that cafe he covers himfelf with *The Jews in France are at this day liable to pay a tax on entering a town, in the fame manner as oxen and hogs; there feems fomething whimſical in connecting them with the laſt mentioned animals; it is however certainly far more infamous for a nation that pretends to humanity to impoſe a tax on any people on account of their religion, than it is for them to pay it when compelled. Dd z : 3:04 THE TAXES. with an eternal infamy, and we regard him as you regard a thief; the appellation of a bad citizen follows him to the grave. "Examples of this fort are very rare, for the free gifts frequently amount to more than the tribute. We know that by giving a part to the ftate, we render a benefit to ourſelves, and that if we would enjoy certain conveniencies, we must make a previous advance. But what are words, when we can teach by example? You fhall prefently fee much better than I can explain to you. It is to-day that there arrives from every part, the juft tribute of a faithful people to a beneficent monarch, who con- fiders himſelf merely as the depofitory of the gifts they offer. "Let us repair to the king's palace; the deputies of each province are by this time near arrived."-In fact, we had gone but a fhort way before I faw mèn drawing fmall cars, on which were placed chefts covered with laurels. They broke the feals of thofe coffers, and put them in the balance, by which, allowing for the weight of the cheft, they found the juft quantity of filver that each contained; and as all the payments were made in filver, they knew the exact produce of the whole, which was publicly declared by found of trumpet. After the general examination, an account in writing was fixed up for public infpection, and by that each one knew the revenue of the ſtate. The money was then placed in the royal treafury, under the care of the comptroller of the finances. This THE TAXES. 305 คา This was a day of rejoicing; they wore garlands of flowers, and cried, "Long live the king." They came in proceffion before each car of tribute. The deputies of the ſeveral provinces faluted each other, and made reciprocal prefents. They drank to the health of the monarch by the found of cannon, which were anfwered by thofe of the capitol, as expreffing the thanks of the fovereign. The whole people ap- peared on that day as one family. The king pre- fented himſelf in the midft of this joyful people; he replied to the acclamations of his fubjects by thofe tender and affable regards, that infpire confidence, and render love for love: he difdained the art of treating politically with a people whom he regarded as his children. His vifits did not diftreſs the citi zens, as they coft them nothing but cries of joy*,, the. * I once faw a prince make his public entry into a foreign. city. The cannon proclaimed his approach. He was magnificently dreffed, and drawn in a gilded car, loaded with pages and lacquies. The horfes neighed and bounded as if they had drawn the chariot of felicity. All the windows were thrown up, the roofs were covered, and the ſtreets crowded with the multitudes. The cavalry brandiſhed their fabres, and the infantry exercifed their muſkets. The. air reſounded with the echo of the trumpets. The poet ftrung his lyre, and the orator attended his deſcent from the chariot. The prince arrives; he is conducted to the palace, and his prefence infpires an awful joy. I was at a window, and faw all that paffed, which afforded me. fome fingular reflections. Walking in the ſtreets a few days after, I was furpriſed to meet this prince on foot, alone, and in diſguiſe. No one took any notice of him, bút treated him as a vulgar perfon. At that moment there arrived a mountebank,, Dd3 feated: 30.5 THE TAXES. the moſt brilliant and moſt flattering of all recep- tions. They did not defift from their labours, on the contrary, every citizen was proud of appearing be fore his king in the occupation he had embraced. An intendant, invefted with all the neceffary marks of power, went into every province, received their petitions, examined himſelf the abuſes, and bore di- rectly to the foot of the throne the complaint of the fubject. He vifited indiſcriminately every town, and where any abuſe was abolished, they erected a pyra- mid in commemoration. What hiſtory more inftruc- tive than theſe moral monuments, which afferted that the fovereign really applied himſelf to the art of go- verning. Theſe intendants fet off and arrive incog- nito, they are perpetually diſguiſed, and made their informations fecretly; they are ſpies, but they act for the good of their country*. But feated in a fort of chaife, drawn by a number of large dogs, with a monkey for their poſtilion. The windows were all thrown up, the people fhouted, and all their looks were fixed on the mountebank; the prince himſelf, attracted by the crowd, became one of his admirers. I looked atten- tively at him, and methought I heard him ſay to himſelf, "The empty acclamations of the multitude fhall never more dazzle my mind with a foolish pride. It is not this man the people throng to fee, but his ftrange equipage. It was not I that attracted their regards, but my valets, my hofes, the richneſs of my drefs, and the ſplendor of my gilded chariot." * In Turkey, and at prefent in France, a governor is as much mafter as the moſt abfolute monarch; it is that which caufes THE TAXES. 307 But your comptroller of the finances, I faid, muſt be a man of wonderful integrity *. You remember. the fable: the faithful dog, directed by temperance, carried his maſter's dinner, without ever offering to touch it, but freely to eat his part at laft, when in- vited by example. Your officer muſt have a double virtue conſtantly to defend, and never dare to touch it!" Be affured he builds no palace or villa. He does not advance his diftant couſins, or ancient valets, to the firſt poſts in the government. He does not ſcatter his wealth as if all the revenue of the kingdom was at his difpofalt. Befide, all thefe in whofe hands the public treaſure is depofited cannot make uſe of money on any pretence whatever. It would be high treaſon to receive from them a ſingle piece of coin. They pay fome particular expences by notes figned with the king's own hand. The ſtates pro- cauſes the mifery of the people. This fort of civil admi- niftration is of all others the moft deplorable. * Fouquet faid, "I have all the money, and the tariff of all the virtues in the kingdom.” † After the minifters, the financiers, the monopolizers, have facrificed their reputation for probity to a defire of enriching themſelves; after they have fubmitted to become odious, they do not even think of making a good uſe of their plunder; they endeavour to cover their original mean- nefs under a pompous appearance. They intoxicate them- ſelves with diſſipations in order to drown the remembrance of what they have been, and what they have done, even this is not the greateſt evil, for by their oftentatious wealth they corrupt thoſe who behold it with envy. 308 THE TAXES. provide for all their expences; but they have not the leaſt property*. They can neither buy, nor fell, nor build. Their lodgings, their tables, their diverfions, are all charged to the ftate. They enter a draper's fhop, order fuch cloth as they want, and depart; the tradefman enters in his book; delivered fuch a day, to fuch a depofitory of the ftate, fo much; the ſtate. pays it: and fo of every other profeffion. You will eafily imagine, that if a comptroller of the finances has any modeſty he will make a moderate ufe of this privilege; and if he ſhould even abuſe it, we ſhall ftill be gainers, compared with what the comptrollers coft you. We have likewife fuppreffed the regifters, 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 himſelf. Can royalty be transferred†. The The interior vices, that prepare the ruin of a ſtate, are, that enormous diffipation of the public treaſure; thoſe ex- travagant gifts beſtowed on ſubjects without merit; thoſe faftuous prodigalities unknown to the moft lawleſs ufurpers. We may obferve in hiftory, that the moſt fubtle tyrants have been the moſt prodigal. I have fomewhere read, that Auguftus, the mafter of the world, maintained an army of 40 legions for 12 millions per annum. This furely affords matter for reflection. † The general hiſtory of wars may be called, The history of the private paffions of minifters. One of thefe, by his in- fidious negociations, fets a diftant and tranquil empire in flames, merely to revenge fome trifling offence he has per- fonally received. THE TAXES. 309 The general, the judge, the ſtatefman, may then act by their proxies. In cafe of fickneſs, or when on a journey, or engaged in fome particular bufinefs, if the monarch charges any one with the accomplish- ment of his orders, it is perhaps his friend only; there is no motive but that which can induce a man to charge himſelf voluntarily with fuch a burden; and our cfteem alone gives him the momentary power. Animated and recompenfed by friendſhip, he knows, like Sully and Amboife, how to fpeak the truth to his mafter, and the more faithfully to ferve him, fometimes to oppofe him. He combats his paffions. He loves the man while he has at heart the glory of the monarch*. By bearing part in his labours, he acquires a fhare of the veneration of his country, doubtless the moſt honourable inheritance he can leave his deſcendants, and that alone of which he is jealous." When we talked of taxes, I forgot to afk, if you have periodical lotteries, where, in my time, the poor people depofited all their little hoards? "Certainly not. We do not ſo abuſe the credulous hope of man; we do not levy on the indigent part of our people a tax * Fidelity does not confiſt in that fervile obedience to the will of another, which is repreſented by the emblem of a dog, who every where follows, continually flatters, and im- plicitly obeys the orders of an unjuft or tyrannic maſter. It feems to me, that true fidelity is an exact obfervance of the laws of reafon and juſtice, rather than a fervile ſubmiſ- tion. Sully appears to me faithful when he tore the promiſe of marriage that Henry IV. had made. 310 THE TAXES. tax fo ingenioufly cruel. The wretched, who weary of the prefent, lives on expectation only, car- ries the price of his labour and watchings to that fatal wheel, from whence he is in continual hope that Fortune will viſit him; but is conftantly deluded by that cruel goddefs. The urgent defire of happineſs prevents him from reaſoning, and though the fraud be palpable, as the heart is dead to hope before life dies, every one imagines that at laſt he ſhall be ſuc- cefsful. It is the favings of the indigent that have built thoſe ſuperb edifices, to which they go begging their bread. It is to them thofe altars owe their luxury, to which they are hardly admitted. For ever a ſtranger, for ever repulfed, the poor are not permitted to fit on the ftone they have paid for carving; pompous prieſts richly endowed, live under thofe roofs, that in equity, at leaft, ought to afford, them an aſylum.” CHAP [311] CHAP. XL. ON COMMERCE. IT feems, by what you have told me, that France has no longer any colonies in the new world; that each part of America forms a feparate king- dom though united under one fpirit of legiflation? "We ſhould be highly ridiculous to fend our dear fellow citizens two thouſand leagues from us. Why fhould we thus eftrange ourſelves from our brethren? Our climate is at leaft as good as that of America. Every neceffary production is here common, and by nature excellent. The colonies were to France what a country-houſe is to a private perfon: the houſe in the country, fooner or later, ruins that in town. "We have a commerce, but it confifts merely in the exchange of fuperfluities among ourfelves. We have prudently banished three natural poifons, of which you made perpetual ufe; fnuff, coffee, and tea. You ftuffed your heads with a villanous powder, that de- prived you Frenchmen of what little memory you had. You burned your ſtomach with liquors that deſtroyed it by encreaſing its action. Thofe nervous diforders fo common among you were owing to the effeminate liquor which carried off the nourishing juice of the animal 'life. We cultivate an interior commerce only, of which we find the good effects; founded principally on agriculture, it diftributes the moſt ne- ceffary aliments; it fatisfies the wants of man, but not his pride. "No 312 ON COMMERCE. "No man bluſhes to till his own ground, and to improve it to the highest degree poffible. Our mo- narch himſelf has feveral acres which are cultivated under his own eye. We have not among us any of thofe titled gentry, whofe only purfait was idleness. << Foreign traffic was the real father of that de ftru&tive-luxury, which produced in its turn that hor- rid inequality of fortunes, which caufed all the wealth of the nation to paſs into a few hands. Be- caufe a woman could carry in her ears the patrimony of ten families, the peafant was forced to fell the land of his ancestors, and to fly, with tears, from that foil where he found nought but mifery and difgrace: for thofe infatiable monſters, who had accumulated the gold, even derided the misfortunes of thofe they had plundered*. We began by deſtroying, thofe great I file with indignant pity when I fee fo many fine projects offered for the improvement of agriculture and population, while the taxes continually increaſing, rob the people of the fweat of their brow; and the price of corn is augmented by the monopoly of thoſe who have all the ino- ney of the kingdom in their hands. Muft we for ever cry to thoſe proud and obdurate ears. "Give us a full and unbounded liberty of commerce and navigation, and a di- iminution of taxes." Thefe are the only means of nouriſh- ing the people, and preventing that depopulation which we fee already begun. But, alas! patriotiſm is a contraband virtue. The man who lives for himſelf alone, who thinks of nought but himſelf, who is filent, and turns away his eyes for fear of horror, he is the good citizen; they even praiſe his prudence and moderation. For my own part, I cannot remain • 4 ÓN COMMERCE. 313 great companies, that abforbed all the fortunes of individuals, annihilated the generous boldness of a nation, and gave as deadly a blow to morality as to the ſtate. "It may be very agreeable to fip chocolate, to breathe the odour of fpices, to eat fugar and ananas, to drink Barbadoes water, and to be clothed in the gaudy ftuffs of India. But are theſe fenfations fuf- ficiently voluptuous to clofe our eyes againſt the crowd of unheard of evils that your luxury engen- dered in the two hemifpheres? You violated the moſt facred ties of blood and nature on the coaft of Gui- nea. You armed the father against the fon, while you pretended to the name of Chriftians and of men. Blind barbarians! You have been but too well con- vinced by a fatal experience. A thirft for gold ex- tolled by every heart; amiable moderation baniſhed by avidity; juftice and virtue regarded as chimeras; avarice pale, and reftlefs, plowing the waves, and peopling with carcafes the depths of the ocean; a whole race of men bought and fold, treated as the vileft animals; kings become merchants, covering the feas with blood for the flag of a frigate: Gol i, to remain filent, I must declare what I have feen. It is into moſt of the provinces of France that we must go to fee the people completely miferable. It is now, in 1770, three winters together that we have feen bread dear. The last year one half of the peafants had need of public charity, and this winter will complete their ruin; for they who have lived till now felling their effects, have nothing left to fell, Theſe poor people have a patience that makes me admire the force of the laws and of education. Ee 314 ON COMMERCE. to conclude, flowing from the mines of Peru like a flaming river, and running into Europe, burned up every where in its courfe the roots of happineſs, and was then for ever loft on the eaſtern world, where fuperftition buried in the carth, on one fide, what avarce had painfully drawn from it, on the other. Behold a faithful picture of the advantages that foreign commerce produced to the world. "Our veffels do not make the tour of the globe, to bring back cochineal and indigo. Know you where are our mincs? Where is our Peru? In labour and affiduity. All that promotes eafe and con- venience, that directly tends to afift nature, is culti- vated with the greateſt care. All that belongs to pomp, to oftentation and vanity, to a puerile defire of an exclufive poffeffion of what is merely the work of fancy, is feverely prohibited. We have caft into the fea thofe deceitful diamonds, thofe dangerous pearls, and all thoſe whimſical ſtones that rendered the heart, like, them impenetrable. You thought your- felves highly ingenious in the refinements of luxury, but your purſuits were merely after fuperfluities, after the fhadow of greatnefs; you were not even voluptuous. Your futile and miferable inventions were confined to a day. You were nothing more than children fond of glaring objects, incapable of fatisfying your real wants. Ignorant of the art of happineſs, you fatigued yourſelves, far from the object of your purſuits, and miſtook, at every step, the image for the reality. "When ON COMMERCE. 315 "When our veffels leave their harbours, they take not thunder with them, to feize on the vaft extent of waters, a fugitive prey that forms a point fcarce per- ceptible to the fight. The echo of the waves bears not to heaven the hideous cries of furious wretches that dispute, at the expence of life itfelf, a paffage over the immenfe and vacant ocean. We vifit diftant nations, but inſtead of the productions of their lands, we bring home the moſt uſeful difcoveries relative to their legiſlature, their phyfical life, and their man- ners. Our veffels ferve to connect our aftronomical knowledge; more than three hundred obfervatories erected on this globe are ready to mark the lealt alteration that occurs in the heavens. The earth is the poft where watches the centinel of the firmament who never fleeps. Aftronomy is become an impor- tant ſcience, as it proclaims, with a majeſtic 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 moſt extraordinary kind that ever exifted. You ought to be very rich," he faid, "for in your youth, doubtlefs, you placed out money on annuities, efpe- cially on furvivorships, as did one half of Paris. An invention of wonderful ingenuity was that fort of lottery, where they played at life and death, and the winnings were to go to the longest liver! You fhould have a moft plentiful annuity! They renounced father and mother, brother and fifter, all friends and relations, to double their revenue. They made the king their heir, then flept in a profound indolence, and lived only for themfelves."-Ah! why do you E e 2 tell 31.6 ON COMMERCE. tell me of theſe matters? Thofe rueful edicts that completed our corruption, and diffolved connections, till then held facred; that barbarous refinement which publickly confecrated felf love, that detached the citizens from each other, and made them folitary and lifeleſs beings, drew tears from my eyes, when I reflected on the future condition of the ſtate. I faw private fortunes melt away, and the exceflive mafs of opulence fwell by their diffolution; but the fatal blow that was given to morals affected me ftill more deeply; no longer any connection between hearts that ought to be devoted to each other; they gave to intereft a keener fword; intereft of itſelf already fo formidable; the fovereign authority laid thofe barriers at its feet, that it would never have dared to attack of itſelf." Good old man," ſaid my guide, "you have done well to fleep, or you would have ſeen the annuitants and the ftate puniſhed for their. mutual imprudence. Politics, fince that period, has made no fuch folecifm; it does not now ruin, but unite and enrich the citizens.” CHAP. [ 37 ] ! CHAP. XLI. THE EVENING. THE fun was was going down. My guide invited me to go with him to the houfe of one of his friends, where he was to fup. I did not want muck intreaty. I had not yet feen the infide of their houſes, and that, in my judgment, is the moſt intereſting fight in every city. In reading hiftory, I pafs over many paffages, but am ever curious in examining the detail of domeſtic life that once done, I have. no need to learn the reft; I can form a natural con-- jecture.. :. On entering, I found none of thoſe petty apart. ments that ſeem to be cells for lunatics, whoſe walls are fcarce fix inches thick, and where they freeze in winter, and fcorch in fummer.. The rooms were large and fonorous; you might walk at your eaſe. A folid roof guarded them from the piercing cold and the burning rays of the fun; theſe houſes, more-- over, did not grow old with thoſe that built them. 1 entered the faloon, and prefently diftinguifhed. the maſter of the houſe. He faluted me without grimace or reſerve*. His wife and children behaved / in How falfe and diminutive is our politeness! And how odious and infulting is that affumed by the great! It is a Ee 3 maſk 318 THE EVENING. in his prefence in a free but reſpectful manner; and monfieur, or the eldeſt fon, did not give me a ſpeci- men of his wit by ridiculing his father; neither his mother, nor his grand-mother would have been charmed with fuch witicifms*. His fifters were neither affectedly polite, nor totally infenfible; 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 unnatural complaifance, which is fo contrary to true. politenefs. This room was not decorated with twenty brittle, taſtelefs bawbles.. There was no gilding, varniſhing, porcelaint, or wretched figures. In their place was a lively tapestry, pleafing to the fight, and fome finifhed prints; a remarkable neat- neſs graced this faloon, that of itſelf was elegant and lightfome. We All maſk more hideous than the moft ugly of all faces thoſe reverences, thoſe affected gefticulations, are inſufter- able to a real man. The falfe brilliancy of our man- ners is more difguttful than the groffeft behaviour of a clown. * There is a licentioufnefs of the mind which is far more dangerous than that of the fenfes; and it is at this time the principal vice that infects the youth of our capital. + What a miſerable luxury is that of porcelain ! A cat, a brush with the fleeve, may deftroy in a moment morc than the produce of twenty acres. 1 THE EVENING. 319 We joined converfation, but there was no fport- ing with paradoxes*; that execrable wit, which was the plague of the age I lived in, did not give falſe colours to things that were by nature perfectly fimple. No one maintained the direct contrary of what was afferted by another, merely to difplay his talentst. Theſe people talked from principle, and did not * Converfation animates the rencounter of ideas, brings forth the treasures of the mind, and is one of the greateſt pleafures of life: it is moreover that of all others I mot highly enjoy. But in the world, I have remarked, that inftead of nourishing, ftrengthening, and elevating the mind, it enervates and degrades it. All things are now become problematical. By an abuſe of reaſon, the very exiſtence of objects is in a manner deftroyed. We meet with panegyrics on the moſt enormous abuſes. All things are juftified. They embrace, unknown to themſelves, a thouſand puerile and extravagant ideas —Their minds become distorted by the collifion of oppofite opinions. There is, I know not what poiſon, that infinuates itſelf, mounts to the head, and clouds your primitive ideas, which are commonly the moſt juſt Avarice, ambition, and luxury, have fo fubtle a logic, that after hearing them, you have no longer your former abhorrence for thofe by whom they are practiſed; they all prove themſelves to be innocent. We must quickly fly to folitude to regain a vigorous abhor- ence of vice. The world makes us familiar whith thofe cirmes it applauds, and affectsus with its delufive fpirit. By too much frequenting men, we become lefs men; we receive from them a falfe light that leads us aftray. It is by fhut- ting the door that we recollect ourſelves, that we perceive the pure light of truth, which never fhines among the multitude. †The decrees of idleness are as unjust as thofe of vanity. THE EVENING. 320 ont contradict themſelves twenty times in a quarter of an hour. The fpirit of this converfation was not directed by ſtarts, and without being profuſe or dull, they did not paſs, in the fame breath, from the birth of a prince to the drowning of a dog. The young people did not affect a childiſh manner, a drawling or lifping language, nor a proud care- leſs aſpect and attitude*. I heard no licentious pro-- pofal, nor did any one declaim in a gloomy, tedious,. heavy manner, againſt thoſe confolatory truths, that are the delight and comfort of fenfible minds. The women did not affect a tone by turns languiſhing: and imperious; they were decent, reſerved, modeſt,. and engaged in an eafy fuitable employment; idle- nefs had no charms for them; they did not rife at noon becauſe they were to do nothing at night. I was highly pleaſed with their not propofing cards; that infipid diverfion, invented to amufe an idiot monarch, and which is conftantly pleafing to the numerous herd of dunces, who are thereby enabled: to conceal their profound ignorance, had difappeared: from * A pretty fellow in France must be flender, weakly,. and not have more than twelve ounces of flesh on his bones; be ſhould likewife have a pain in his ftomach, and a very. poor ſtate of health. A man that is ftrong and hearty. is a hideous creature. It becomes the Swifs and porters. only, to have a mafculine figure and a florid ſtate of health.. + Pyrrhonifm fuppofes fometimes, more prejudices than a natural diſpoſition to receive the appearances of truth.. THE EVENING, 321 .. from among a people who knew too well how to improve the moments of life to waſte them in a prac- tice at once fo dull and faftidious*. I faw none of thofe green tables, on which men ruin themſelves unpitied. Avarice did not moleſt theſe honeſt citi- zens, even in the moments confecrated to leifure. They did not make a fatigue of what ſhould be a mere relaxationt. If they played, it was at draughts, or chefs, thoſe ancient and ſtudious games, that offer an infinite variety of combinations to the mind. There were alſo 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 fupply a dearth of converfation, yet there are feveral games that require a ſtrong exertion of all the faculties of the mind. No dunce, no man of indifferent capacity, ever played the game of piquet or ombre well. + I dread the approach of winter, not for the feverity of the ſeaſon, but becauſe it brings with it a wretched thirſt for gaming. That ſeaſon is the`moſt fatal to morals, and the moſt infupportable to philofophy. It is then thoſe noiſy and infipid affemblies ftart up; where all the futile paffions exerciſe their ridiculous empire. The tafte for trifles then dictates the mode. All the men, metamorphofed into ef- feminate flaves, are fubordinate to the caprice of the wo- men, for whom, at the very time, they have neither efteem nor affection. 322 THE EVENING. company. There were no female fpies, who, by cen- furing others, diſcharged themſelves of that foul hu- mour which rankles their fouls, and which they fre- quently owe as much to their deformity as their folly. Thefe converfed, thofe turned over a book of prints, one examined the pictures, and another amufed himſelf with a book in a corner. They form- ed no circle to communicate a gaping that runs all round. In a room adjoining was a concert; it was that of ſweet flutes united with the human voice. The clanging harpficord, and the monotonous fid- dle, here yielded to the enchanting powers of a fine woman; what inftrument can have greater effect upon the heart? The improved harmonica, however, feemed to difpute the prize; it breathed the moſt pure, full, and melodious founds that can charm the ear. It was a ravishing and celeftial mufic, that is far from being rivalled by the clamour of our operas, where the man of taſte and fenfibility feeks for 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 metaphyfics; and if they spoke about poetry, of dramas, or au- thors, they conftantly acknowledged themſelves, notwith- * In common converfation we meet with two circum- ftances 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 50 notwithſtanding their great abilities, unequal to the fubject*. They defired me to walk into an adjoining room, where fupper was prepared. I looked at the clock with furprize, it was not yet feven. Come, Sir, faid the mafter of the houfe, taking me by the hand, we do not paſs our nights by the light of wax candles. We think the fun fo beautiful, that it is to us a plea- fure to ſee its firſt rays dart on the horizon. We do not go to bed with a loaded ſtomach, to experience broken flumbers attended by fantaſtic dreams. We carefully guard our health, as on that the ferenity of the mind depends†. We are moreover fond of and pleaſing dreams‡. gay There * A woman never thinks clofely but when the meditates on the leſſons of a favourite gallant ¶; and how many men are there like women? This is certainly not juft; our author, as a Frenchman, fhould have remembered the name of Dacier, and not have expreffed himself in fuch unlimited terms. + Health is to happiness, what the dew of heaven is to the fruits of the carth. Happy are they who enjoy the fenfation of health; that tranquil ſtate of body, that equilibrium, that perfect agree- ment of all the humours, that happy difpofition of all the organs, by which their ftrength and agility are fupported. That general perfect health is of itſelf a high enjoyment. It is not rapturous; granted: but as it alone furpaffes all other pleaſures, it gives that contentment to the mind, that internal 324 THE EVENING. There was a general filence. The father of the family bleffed the food that was fet before us. This graceful and holy cuftom was revived; and it ap- peared to me important, as perpetually reminding us of that gratitude we owe to God, who inceffantly fupplies us with fubfiftence. I was more bufy in ex- amining the table than in eating. I fhall not dwell on the neatneſs and elegance that there prevailed. The domeftics fat at the bottom of the table, and eat with their maſters; they had therefore the more ref- pect for them; they received by this means leffons of probity, which they laid up in their hearts; they thereby became more enlightened, and were not coarſe or infolent, as they were not longer regarded 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 difh that was diftant from him; he would have been reckoned a glutton, who was not content with his portion, for it was quite fufficient. Many people cat exceffively more from habit than real appetite*. They had learned internal and delicious calm, which makes exiftence dear to us, enables us to admire the face of nature, and render grateful thanks to the Author of our being. Not to be fick, is alone a foothing pleaſure. I readily call him a philofo- pher, who, fenfible of the dangers, of excefs, and the ad. vantages of moderation, knows how to bridle his appetites, and live without pain: how important a fecret! * Anatomy demonftrates, that our organs of pleaſure are covered with finall pyramidical eminences. The lefs ob- I tufe THE EVENING. 325 learned to correct that fault without a fumptuary law. None of the meats I tafted had any difcernable ſeaſoning, for which I was not forry. I found a favour in them, a natural falt which feemed to me delicious. I faw none of thofe refined diſhes that pafs through the hands of feveral fophifticators, of thofe ragouts, thoſe inflammatory fauces, rarified in fmall, but coſtly diſhes which haften the deftruction of the human. race, at the fame time that they burn up the entrails. Theſe were not a voracious people, who devour more than the magnificence of nature, with all her genera- tive tufe they are made by frequent ufe, the more fenfible and elaſtic they remain, and the more ready to recover their tone. Nature, a tender and careful mother, has fo con- ftructed them, that they preferve their fpring to advanced age, when their requifite fubtility, their due afperity is not deftroyed. It depends therefore on man to referve plea- fure for every age of life. But what does the intemperate wretch? He deftroys this precious organifm: he vitiates that delicate ſenſation, by making thoſe parts flat and hard he reduces a being almoſt celeftial, and endowed with plea- fures peculiar to himſelf, 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 firmament, diftinguiſh the pleafing forms and colours of the minuteſt bodies, breathe the most grateful -odours, and comprehend all the various inflections of the voice, receive rapturous pleafure from paintings, cloquence, and poetry, and plunge with the greateſt delight into the depths of algebra and geometry, &c.? He who faid that man was an abridgment of the univerſe, afferted a great and pleafing truth. Man appears to be connected with all that exifts. Ff 326 THE EVENING. tive faculties, can produce. If ever luxury be odious, that of the table is the moſt deteftable; for if the rich, by an abuſe of their wealth, diffipate the nou- rifhing fruits of the earth, the poor muſt neceffarily pay the dearer for them, and, what is worſe, fre quently not have a competency The herbs and fruits were all of the feaſon; they knew not the ſecret of producing wretched cherries in the midſt of the winter, they were not folicitous for the first produce, but left nature to ripen her fruits. The palate was thereby better plefed, and the body better nouriſhed. They gave us a defert of fome excellent fruit and fome old wine; but none of thofe coloured liquors diſtilled from brandy, fo much in ufe in my time; they were as feverely prohibited as arfenic. This people were fenfible, that there was no pleaſure in procuring a flow and cruel death. The mafter of the houfe faid to me with a fmile, "You muſt certainly think this a pitiful defert; here are neither trees, nor castles, nor wind-mills, nor any other figures of confectionary t; that ridiculous ex- travagance * The unfeeling man is precifely him whom the world calls a man of taſte. + France! O my country! wouldst thou know wherein thy true glory now confifts, thy real pre-eminence over other nations? Hear: thou excelleft in the invention of faſhions; they are adopted in the extremities of the North, in all the courts of Germany, even within the Seraglio; in a word, by all the four parts of the earth Thy cooks, thy confectioners are the most excellent in the univerfe; and every nation in Europe admires thy dancers. THE EVENING. 327 travagance which could not produce the leaſt real pleasure, was formerly the delight of thofe great children that were become dotards. Your magi- ſtrates, who, at leaſt ought to have given examples of frugality, and not authoriſed by their practice, an infolent and pitiful luxury; thoſe magiſtrates, they ſay, thoſe fathers of the people, at the commence- ment of every parliament, were in extafies at the fight of grotefque figures made of fugar; from whence we may eaſily judge of the emulation of other ranks to excel the men of the long robe." You can have but an imperfect idea of our induftry, I replied; in my time, they exhibited, on a table ten feet wide, an opera of ſweetmeats, with all its machines, decora- tions, orchestra, actors, and dancers, with the fhifting of the fcenes, in the fame manner as at the theatre of the Palais Royal. During the exhibition, the whole people befieged the door, to enjoy the great happineſs of a glimpſe of this fuperb defert, the whole. expence of which they certainly paid. The poor peo- ple admired the wonderful magnificence of their princes, and thought themſelves very infignificant, when compared with fuch greatnefs. . . . . The whole company laughed heartily; we rofe from table with gaiety; we rendered thanks to God; and no one com- plained of vapours or indgeftion. F f 2 CHAP. [328 ] CHAP. XLII. THE GAZETTES. ON returning to the former room, I faw lying on the table large fheets of paper, twice as long as the English news-papers. I eagerly feized thefe printed fheets, and found that they were intitled, News public and private. As nothing can equal the fuprife I felt on reading every page, determined as I was never more to be ſurpriſed, I fhall here tran- fcribe thofe articles that ftruck me moft, as near as my memory will permit. From PERIN, the .... They reprefented before the emperor the tragedy of Cinna. The clemency of Auguftus, with the beauty and dignity of the other characters, made a great impreſſion on all the audience. O what an impudent lying gazette is here! I faid to the perſon who ſtood next me. Read...." Nay," he replied very coolly, "there is nothing more likely. I myſelf have feen the Orphan of China reprefented at Pekin. You muſt know, that I am a mandarin, and that I love letters as much as juſtice. I have traverfed the Royal Canal*; I arrived here in * The Royal Canal divides China, from north to ſouth, for the ſpace of fix hundred leagues. It is joined by lakes, rivers, THE GAZETTES, 329 in about four months, and amufed myſelf by 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 neceffàry to fee, clearly to comprehend. The French language has been common at Pekin for thefe two centuries paft; and, on my return, I fhall take with me feveral good books that I intend to tranflate:"You do not then, Mr. Mandarin, ftill ufe your hieroglyphic language, and have abrogated that extraordinary law, which forbade any one of you to leave the empire?" It was quite neceffary to change our language and adopt more fimple characters, if we would maintain a cor- refpondence with you. This was not more difficult than it is to learn algebra or geometry. Our emperor has repealed the law that forbade travelling,, as he very rightly judged, that you did not all refemble thoſe prieſts whom we named demi-diables, from their attempts to allumine the torch of difcord even in our diſtant country. If I do not miſtake the epoch,. a more cloſe and intimate connection was formed on account of certain copperplates which you had en- graved.. rivers, &c. This empire abounds with like canals, many of which run ten leagues in a ſtraight line; they ſupply moſt. of the cities with provifions. Their bridges have a bold- nefs and magnificence fuperior to any thing of the kind that Europe can produce, And we, weak, trifling, pitiful in all our public works, we employ our ingenuity, labour, and wonderful knowledge, in ornamenting objects of mere vanity, in erecting magnificent bawbles; almost all that we call mafter-pieces of art are nothing more than the fports of children. • Ff 3 330 THE GAZETTES. graved. That art was then new to us, and highly admired. We have fince almoſt equalled you.”—O, I underſtand you; the defigns of thofe plates repre- fented battles; they were fent to us by that poetic monarch to whom Voltaire addreffed a beautiful ode; and our king having charged his beſt artiſts with their execution, fent them as a prefent to The charm- ing emperor of China." Right. Since that time the intercourfe has been established, and by degrees the fciences have paffed from one country to the other, like bills of exchange. The opinions of one man have become thoſe of the univerfe. It is printing, that noble invention, which has propagated this light. The tyrants of human reaſon, with their hundred hands, have not been able to ſtop its invincible courſe. Nothing can be more rapid than that falutary motion given to the moral world by the fun of arts; it has furrounded every object with a pure and du- rable fplendor. "The baſtinado is no longer practifed in China; and the mandarins do not now reſemble the heads of a college; the common people are not flothful and fraudulent, as the greateſt pains has been taken to improve their minds; ignominious punishments no longer cruſh them to the earth; they have been in- fpired with notions of honour. We conftantly vene- rate Confucius, who was almoſt cotemporary with your Socrates, and who, like him, did not fubtilize on the principal of Beings, but contented himſelf with declaring that nothing is hid from him, and that he will punish vice and reward virtue. Our Confucius had THE GAZETTES. 331 had one advantage over the Grecian fage; he did not boldly attack thoſe religious prejudices, which, for want of a more noble ſupport, were the baſis of the morals of the people; he waited patiently, till truth, without tumult and labour, fhould exert its own power. In fhort, it was he, who proved that a monarch muſt neceffarily be a philofopher to govern his people juftly. Our emperor ftill holds the plow; but it is not an act of vain economy or puerile oftentation...." Urged by a defire to read and hear at the fame time, while I liftened on one fide, my eye, not leſs curious, ran over the pages of this gazette. I read as follows. JEDDO, the capital of Japan, the.... The defcendants of the great Taico, who cauſed Dairi, to be regarded as an impotent, though revered idol, have juft tranflated the Spirit of Laws, and the Treatife on Crimes and Puniſhments. The venerable Amida has been conducted through all the ſtreets; but no one offered himſelf to be cruſh- ed by his chariot-wheels. A free entrance is granted at Japan; and every one there eagerly profits by the arts of foreigners. Suicide is no longer a viitue among thefe people; they 332 THE GAZETTES. they have difcovered that it was the confequence of defpair, or of a foolish and criminal infenfibility. PERSIA, the... The king of Perfia has dined with his brothers, who have remarkable fine eyes. They afflift in the government of the empire; their principal employ- ment is to read the difpatches. The facred books of Zoroafter and Sadder are conftantly read and re- fpected; but there is now no mention made of Omar, or of Ali. **** MEXICO, the..... This city has completely regained the ancient fplendor it enjoyed under the augult government of princes defcended from the renowned Montezu na.. Our emperor, on his advancement to the throne, rebuilt the palace in the form it had in the days of his ancestors. The Indians no longer go bare-foot and without linen. They have erected in the great fquare the ftatue of Gatimozin, extended on the burning coals; and under it are wrote theſe words,, And I, am I on a bed of rofes?. ~ Pray tell me, I faid to the Mandarin, is it then: forbid to name the empire of New Spain? He replied "When the avenger of the New World had drove away THE GAZETTES. 333 away the tyrants, (the talents of Mahomet and Cæfar united would not have nearly equalled thofe of that wonderful man) this formidable deliverer contented himſelf with being a legiflator. He laid down the fword, to diſplay to the nations the facred code of the laws. You can form no idea of fo tranfcendent a genius; his powerful eloquence refembled the voice of the divinity defcended upon the earth. America was divided into two empires; that of North America contains Mexico, Canada, the Antilles, Jamaica, and St. Domingo; to that of South America belongs Peru, Paraguay, Chili, the land of Magellan, and the country of the Amazons; but each of thefe kingdoms has a feparate monarch, who is himſelf fubject to a general law, almoft in the fame manner as, in your time, the flourishing empire of Germany, while divided into various monarchies, formed but one body under one general fovereign. "Thus the blood of Montezuma, for a long time obfcured and concealed, again mounted the throne. All theſe monarchs are patriot princes, who have no other object than the maintenance of public liberty. This great man, this renowned legiflator, this negro, in whom nature had exerted all her force, has in- fpired them with his great and virtuous fpirit. Theſe vaſt ſtates repoſe and flouriſh in a perfect concord, the flow, but infallible work of reaſon. The ravages of the ancient world, their cruel and childiſh wars, the rivers of blood idly waſted, and the fhame for having cauſed them; in a word, the folly of ambition, plainly 334 THE GAZETTES. plainly demonſtrated, has been fufficient to induce the new continent to make peace with the titular deity of their country. In our days a war would difhonour a ftate, as robbery difhonours a private perfon." I continued to read and liften. PARAGUAY, from the city of the Affumption, the.... We have juſt held a folemn feaſt, in memory of the abolition of that difgraceful flavery to which this nation had been reduced, under the defpotic empire. of the Jefuits. For fix centuries paft, we have re- garded it as a ſpecial favour of Providence that en- abled us to drive out thofe wolf-foxes from their lat retreat. This nation, however, is not ingrate, for it acknowledges the advantage of being raifed from wretchednefs and inſtructed in agriculture and the arts by thofe Jefuits. Happy, if they had contented themſelves with inftructing mankind, and giving them facred laws of morality. From PHILADELPHIA, the capital of Pennſylvania, the.... This province, where humanity, faith, liberty, concord, and equality, have taken refuge for more. than eight hundred years, is covered with the moſt elegant and flourishing cities. Virtue has performed more here than courage has among other nations. Thofe $ THE GAZETTES. 335 Thofe generous quakers*, the moft virtuous of man- kind, by affording to the world a people that are all brethren, have ferved as a model to hearts that have become humanized by their example. We know that they have been able, from the time of their origin, to give mankind a thouſand examples of generofity and beneficence. It is well known that they were the first who refuſed to fhed the blood of man; and that they regard war as a weak and barbarous frenzy. It is they that have undeceived thofe nations who were the miferable victims of the quarrels of their kings. They have juft publiſhed their annual ex- hortation, in which are contained thofe practical virtues, which fet to their faith the feal of perfec- tion. MOROCCO, * How can the princes of the North refrain from cover- ing themſelves with immortal glory by banishing flavery, from their dominions, by reſtoring to the labourer of the land at least his perfonal liberty? How can they be deaf to the cry of humanity, which conftantly excites them to that act of glorious beneficence'? By what motive can they be induced to hold in an odious fervitude, and one that is con- trary to their real intereft, the most induſtrious part of their fubjects, when they have before their eyes the example of thoſe quakers who have given liberty to all their negro flaves? How is it poffible for them not to be fenfible, that their fubjects will be more faithful by being more free: and that they muſt ceaſe to be flaves ere they can become men. 336 THE GAZETTES. * MOROCCO, the.... We have difcovered a comet that is going toward the fun. This is the three hundred and fifty-firft that has been obferved fince the erecting of our obferva- tory. The obfervations made in the interior parts of Africa, correfpond exactly with ours. They have put to death an inhabitant who had affaulted a Frenchman, in conformity to the ordi- nance of our fovereign, whoſe will it is that every ſtranger ſhall be regarded as a brother who is come to vifit his intimate friends. ** SIAM, the. Our navigation makes a moft aftoniſhing progrefs. We have launched fix veffels of three decks, which are deſtined for long voyages. Our king preſents himſelf to all that defire to be- hold his auguft perfon. There is not a more affable monarch exifting, efpecially when he reforts to the pagod of the great Sommonacodom. The white elephant is kept at the menagery, but merely as an object of curiofity, as he is perfect in the exercife of the riding-fchool. I From THE GAZETTES, 337 ** From the COAST of MALABAR, the.... The widow. . . . who is young, handfome, and adorned with every accompliſhment, has fincerely deplored the death of her huſband, who was burned alone; and after mourning, more in her heart than in her dreſs, has been re-married to a young man, by whom ſhe is alfo tenderly beloved. This new connection has rendered her ftill more reſpectable to all her fellow-citizens. * From the LAND of MAGELLAN, the . . . The twenty fortunate iflands, who lived, without knowing it, in all the innocence and happinefs of the firſt ages, are lately united; they now form an affociation truly fraternal and reciprocally useful. *** From the LAND of PAPOS*, the . As we advance into this fifth part of the world, our diſcoveries become every day more extenfive and intereſting. We are ſurpriſed at its riches, fertility, and its numerous inhabitants, who here live in con- tinual peace. They may juſtly difdain our arts; their morality is ſtill more admirable than their phyfics. The * The land of Papos is four thousand leagues diſtant from Paris. Gg 338 THE GAZETTES. The fun, in all thefe immenfe regions, more extenſive than Afia and Africa united, beholds not one unfor- tunate being; while Europe, fo diminutive, ſo poor, and divided into fo many parts, has almoſt hardened her foil with human bones. *** From the Island of TAITI in the South Sea, the.... When M. Bougainville difcovered this happy ifland where reign the manners of the golden age, he did not fail to take poffeffion of it in the name of his maſter. He at laſt re-embarked and took with him a Taitian, who in 1770 attracted the curiofity of Pa- ris for a week. It was not then known that a French- man induced by the beauty of the climate, the can- dour of its inhabitants, and fill more by the mifery which threatened that innocent people, concealed himſelf at the time his comrades embarked. The veffel had no fooner difappeared, than he prefented himſelf to the people; he affembled them in a large plain, and made the following fpeech: << "I have chofe to remain among you for my own happiness, and for yours. Receive me as a bro- "ther; you will fee that I deferve that title, as I "offer to fave you from the moſt horrid calamity. O "happy people, who live in all the fimplicity of nature! little do you think of the miferies that "threaten you! Theſe ftrangers you have enter- "tained, and who feemed fo polite, whom you have "loaded with civilities and prefents, and whom at "this THE GAZETTES. 339 "this moment I betray, if it be treachery to prevent «the ruin of a virtuous people; theſe ſtrangers, my "< countrymen, will foon return, and bring with them "all thofe plagues that afflict other countries; they "will infect you with poifons 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 erected, which declares, that "this land is already dependent on them, and marks st 66 you as the ſubjects of a monarch, of whofe very "name you are ignorant. You are all deſtined to "obey new laws. They will ſtrip the harveſt from your lands, will defpoil your trees of their fruit, "and feize on your perfons. That happy equality "which reigns among you will be abolished. Per- "haps, your blood will bathe thofe flowers that now "bend under the weight of your innocent embraces. "Love is the god of this iſland; it is confecrated, fo "to fay, to his worship. Hatred and vengeance will "take his place. You are yet even ignorant of the "uſe of arms; they will teach you what is war, mur- "der, and flavery...." At thefe words, the people turned pale, and re- mained fixed in aftoniſhment. Thus a company of children, interrupted in the midst of their pleafing fports, will be feized with terror, when a dreadful voice fhall tell them the world is at an end, and make them fenfible of calamities that their tranquil minds had never conceived. Ggz The 340 THE GAZETTES. The orator continued, " People, whom I love, "and for whom my heart yearns! There is yet a "way to preferve your liberty and your happiness. "Let every ftranger that lands on your coaft be "facrificed to the fafety of your country. The de- "cree is cruel; but the love of your children and of your pofterity fhould make you embrace it. You "would be more fhocked, were I to relate to yon “the horrid cruelties that the Europeans have ex- erciſed toward people, who, like you, were weak. "and innocent. Guard yourſelves againſt the con- " t tagious breath that proceeds from their lips; even "their very fmiles are fignals of the miferies with "which they intend to overwhelm you." The heads of the nation aſſembled, and by an unanimous voice inveſted him with the chief autho- rity who had been their general benefactor, by pre. ferving them from fuch horrible calamities. The decree of death againſt every ſtranger was executed with a virtuous and patriotic rigour; as it was for- merly in Taurida, by a people in appearance as inno- cent, but jealous of forming any connection with na- tions who were ſkilful in arts, but at the fame time, cruel and tyrannic. They write, that this law has been lately abolished, becauſe by repeated informations they have learned that Europe is no longer the enemy of the other three. parts of the globe; that it does not now attack the liberty of peaceful nations far diftant from it; that it is not ſhamefully jealous of the power of its ſeveral fove. THE GAZETTES. 341 ſovereigns; that it is ambitious of forming friends, and not making flaves; that its veffels go in fearch of examples of fimple and refined manners, and not of contemptible riches, &c. &c. &c. *** 齐 ​PETERSBURGH, the. The moſt noble of all titles is that of legiflator. A fovereign then approaches nearest to the Divinity, when he gives fagacious and durable laws to a nation. We ſtill repeat with rapture the auguft name of Ca- tharine II. We no longer talk of her conquefts and her triumphs, but of her laws. Her ambition was to diffipate the darkneſs of ignorance, and to fubfi- tute, in the room of barbarous cuſtoms, laws dictated by humanity. More happy, more glorious than Pe- ter the Great, becauſe more humane, fhe applied her- ſelf, notwithſtanding all oppofite examples, to make her people flourishing and happy; which they were, in defiance of public and domeſtic ſtorms that ſhook her throne. By her courage, fhe was enabled to for- tify a crown that the univerſe beheld with pleaſure on her brow. We muſt go very far back into anti- quity to find a legiflator of equal dignity and fagacity. -The chains that bound the labourers of the land were broken. She raiſed her front, and faw them with delight exalted to the rank of men. The fa- bricators of luxury no longer found their profeffions more lucrative or more honourable. The genius of humanity cried aloud to all the inhabitants of the North, Men! be free; and remember future generations, Gg3 that 342 THE GAZETTES, that it is to a woman you owe all the happiness you enjoy. At the last numbering of the inhabitants of all the Ruffias, they amounted to forty-five millions of peo- ple. In 1769, they counted only fourteen millions; but, by the fagacity of the legiflator, her humane codę of laws, and the throne of her fucceffors being firmly eſtabliſhed by their generofity and affability, the population of this empire is become equal to its extent, which is greater than that of Auguftus or Alexander. The conftitution of government, more- over, is no longer military; the fovereign calls him- felf only autocrate, the univerfe in general is too enlightened to bear the former odious government * *** .: i WARSAW, the.... An anarchy the moſt abfurd and injurious to the rights of man, who is born free, and the moft op- preffive to the people, no longer troubles Poland. The renowned Catherine II. had formerly a won- derful influence over the affairs of this kingdom; and they ſtill remember with gratitude, that it was fhe *He who had faid fourfcore years fince, that at Peterf- burgh they would, at this time, follow our modes, our pe- rukes, our coifs, and comic opcras, would certainly have paffed for a madman. We muft patiently confent to be called fools, when we publifh ideas that extend beyond the horizon of the vulgar. All things in Europe tend to a ſud- den revolution. THE GAZETTES. 343 fhe who gave to the peafant his perfonal liberty, and the property of his effects. The king died at fix laſt night: his fon mounted the throne in peace the fame evening, and received the homage of all the palatine nobles. *** CONSTANTINOPLE, the.... It was a great happiness for the world when the Turk, in the eighteenth century, was driven out of Europe. Every friend to humanity rejoiced at the fall of that baneful empire, where the monſter Defpotiſm was careffed by the infamous bafhaws, who only pro- ftrated themſelves before him, that they might ex- ceed his horrid oppreffions. The fans, a long time exiled, re-entered the poffeffions of their fathers, not dejected, but triumphant, robuft, in a ftate to im- prove them. The ufurpers of the throne of the Con- ſtantines funk into the bogs of their ancient marſhes; and thofe barriers that Superftition, and its infepara- ble and dreadful colleague, Tyranny, had placed againſt 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 fanctuary, and the country of Themistocles and Miltiades again embraced the ftatue of Liberty: It rofe as bold and noble as in thofe fair days when it fhone in all its fplendor, and with a power extended over all its original domain. There was no more feen a Sardanapalus fleeping, oppreffed THE GAZETTES. 344 oppreffed by the weight of barbarities, caufed by a vizier and a bow-ftring, while his vaft dominions, defpoiled and languiſhing, were plunged in the fleep of death. The animating breath of liberty now gives them fresh vigour. It has a creative ſpirit that produces prodigies unknown to ſlaviſh nations. The dominions of the Grand Signior were at first poffeffed by his neighbours; but two centuries after they formed a republic, that commerce renders flouriſhing and for- midable. They had given a grand maſquerade, where form- erly was the feraglio; the moſt delicious wines, and every other refreſhment, was there provided, with a profufion that did not in the leaſt interfere with the moft refined delicacy. The following evening they reprefented the tragedy of Mahomet, in the theatre built on the ruins of the ancient mofque called St. Sophia. ROME, the. * The emperor of Italy has received at the Capitol, the vifit of the biſhop of Rome, who very refpectfully offered * How execrable is the name of Rome to my ears! How fatal has been that city to the univerfe! From its firſt foun- dation, owing to a handful of ruffians, how faithful has it been THE GAZETTES. 343 offered up his prayers to heaven for the prefervation of that monarch's days, and the profperity of his dominions. been to its original inftitution. Where fhall we find a more voracious, fubtle, and inhuman ambition? It hath extended the chains of oppreffion over the whole known world. Neither ſtrength, nor valour, nor the moſt heroic virtues, has been able to preferve mankind from flavery. What demon has prefided over its conquefts, and precipitated the flight of its eagles! O, fatal republic! What monstrous defpotifm has ever had fuch defteftable effects! O Rome, how I hate thee! What a people are they who go about the earth deſtroying the liberties of others, and at laſt deſtroy their own! What a people were they, who, when fur- rounded by all the arts, could enjoy the entertainment of gladiators, fix a curious eye on the wretch whoſe blood gufhed forth, and required the victim to affume an uncon- cern for death, to give the lie to nature in his laſt moments, by appearing delighted with the applaufe of myriads of bar- barous hands! What a people were they, who, after having affumed an unjuſt dominion over the univerſe, could fuffer, without complaining, fo many emperors to rule them with a rod of iron, and who fhewed a fervility as bafe as their tyranny had been arrogant. But all this was trifling. A fuperftition, the moſt abfurd and moſt ridiculous, affumed in its turn, the throne of defpotic power, and had for her miniſters Ignorance and Barbarity. After Rome had de- voured mankind in the name of its country, it devoured them in the name of God. Then blood was fhed for the chimerical ſervice of heaven, a cruelty of which the world had produced no inftance. Rome was the infectious gulf from whence exhaled thofe fatal opinions that divided man- kind, and armed them against each other for phantoms. Soon it engendered, under the name of pontiffs, who called themſelves the vicars of God, the moſt odious monſters. When compared with thofe tygers that bore the keys and the triple crown, Caligula, Nero, and Domitian, were but vulgar 346 THE GAZETTES. dominions. The bifhop returned on foot, with all the humility of a true fervant of God. All thofe beautiful vulgar villians. The people, as if ftruck by a petrifying rod, vegetated a thouſand years under a defpotic theocracy. The facerdotal empire covered all, concealed all in its darkneſs. Human beings no longer exiſted but to obey the decrees of a deified mortal. He ſpoke, and his voice was the commanding thunder. Then were feen croifades, a tribunal of inquiſitors, proſcriptions, anathemas, excom- munications: invifible thunders, that were hurled to the ends of the earth. Thoſe Chriſtians, with faith and rancour in their hearts, were not able to fatisfy themfelves with murders: a new world, a world entire, was neceſſary to glut their rage. They would compel mankind by force to adopt their chimeras. It was the image of the croſs that was the fignal for thoſe horrible devaſtations: wherever it appeared, blood flowed in torrents and even at this day the fame religion authorizes the flavery of wretches, who fearch, in the entrails of the earth, that gold of which Rome is the most fhameleſs idolator. Thou city of feven hills! what fwarms of calamities have iffued from thine infernal womb! What art thou! Whence derivest thou thy power over this unhappy globe? Has the maleficent Arimanis, the origin of evil, fixed his feat with- in thy walls? Art thou the gate at which misfortunes enter ? Do thy foundations touch the roof of hell? When will that fatal talifman be broken, which, though it has loft fome- what of its power, is ftill fo baneful to mankind? O Rome, ſo how I hate thee! May at leaſt the memory of thy iniquities remain! may it conftitute thy infamy, and never be effaced ! and may every heart, burning with juft indignation, be filled, like mine, with horror at thy name! * The throne of defpotic power is fixed on the altar, which only fupports it to ſwallow it up. THE GAZETTES. 347 beautiful antique monuments that were caft into the Tyber, where they have lain buried for fo many years, have been lately taken up and placed in dif ferent parts of Rome. They have found means of recovering them without infecting the air with any dangerous exhalation. The bishop of Rome is continually employed in forming a code of rational and affecting morality. He has published the Catechifm of human reafon. He particularly applies himſelf in furniſhing a new degree of evidence to thofe truths that are of real importance to man. He keeps a regiſter of all generous, charitable, and illuftrious actions; he makes them public, and characterifes every fpecies of virtus. Judge of kings and of nations, by virtue of his ardent love for humanity, he reigns by that inviſible empire which invets him with the fpirit of wifdom, of juſtice, and truth. He foftens, he conciliates the dif- ferences of mankind. His bulls, wrote in all lan- guages, announce not obfcure, uſeleſs dogmas, or fentences of eternal divifions, but expatiate on the at- tributes of the Divinity, of his univerfal prefence, of the life to come, and the fublimity of virtue. The Chinefe, the Japanefe, the inhabitants of Surinam and Kamfchatka, read them with edification. **** NAPLES, the ... to a candidate named Our academy of belles lettres has given the prize The ſubject was, an exact determination of what cardinals were in the eighteenth 348 THE GAZETTES. eighteenth century, the principles and manners of that extraordinary fort of men; what paffed in the priſon of the conclave, and the precife time when they became again what they were in the infancy of Christianity. The fuccefsful author has fully fatisfied the inquiries of the academy. He has even given a deſcription of the cap and red hat. This differtation is not leſs entertaing than elaborate. They have reprefented at a booth in the fair, the farce of St. Januarius, which was formerly treated in fo ferious a manner. All the world knows that his blood was fuppofed to liquify every year. They have parodied this ridiculous ſtory in a manner highly comic. The treaſures of our Lady of Loretto*, that uſed to be employed in feeding and clothing the poor, have been lately applied to the conftructing an aque-` duct, as there are no longer any poor. The riches of * For fifteen centuries paft we have ſeen ſcarce any other public buildings in all Europe than Gothic churches, with high pointed ſteeples. The pictures we there fee offer very few fubjects but what are hideous and difguftful. But what monaſteries richly endowed! What opulent univerſities! What afylums open to idleness and a theological jargon It was, however, at the time the people were in the greateſt · poverty, that the ſecret was found of erecting theſe ſumptu- ous cathedrals and monafteries. How flouriſhing would thoſe nations have been, if they had employed in aqueducts and canals, thofe immenfe fums that were fquandered away in enriching prieſts and nuns ? 2 THE GAZETTES. 349 of the ancient cathedral of Toledo, deftroyed in the year 1867, ought to be applied to the fame purpoſe. See on this fubject the learned differtations of- in 1999. * * MADRID, the.. Enacted, that no perfon fhall take the name of Dominic, as it is that of the barbarian who formerly eſtabliſhed the inquifition*. Enacted, that the name of Philip II. fhall be erafed from the lift of the Spaniſh monarchs. The fpirit of induſtry is every day more manifeft, by the uſeful diſcoveries they make in all the arts. The academy of ſciences have juft given a new fyftem of electricity, founded on more than twenty thoufand ſeparate experiments. *** LONDON, the.... This city is three times as large as it was in the eighteenth century. The whole ftrength of the nation. may * Every mind in which fanaticiſm has not ftifled all fen- timents of humanity, muſt be diſtracted with indignation and pity on the thought of thofe barbarities, thofe ftudied tortures that religious fury has incited men to invent. The ftories of Cannibals and Anthropophagi are leſs horrible. Torquemada, inquifitor of Spain, boafted of having deſtroy- ed, by fire and fword, more than fifty thoufand heretics. We every where find bloody traces of that religious ferocity. Is that the divine law which calls itſelf the ſupport of politics and morality! H h 350 THE GAZETTES. may refide, without any ill confequence, in the capi tal, as commerce is the foul of it, and the commerce of a republican people does not draw after it thoſe fatal evils that attend a monarchy. England con- ftantly maintains its ancient fyftem. It is good, be- cauſe it enriches, not the monarch, but the people; from whence arifes that equality which prevents ex- ceffive opulence and exceffive mifery. The English are conftantly the firſt people in Eu- rope. They enjoy the ancient glory of having of- fered to their neighbours, an example of that form of government which becomes men jealous of their rights and their happiness. } They no longer regard the anniverfary of the death of Charles I. They are more perfect in their politics. A new ftatue of Cromwell has been lately crected; the colours of the marble are fo intimately blended, that it is hard to fay whether it be black or white. The affemblies of the people will be here- after held in the prefence of this ftatue, as that great man was the real author of their happy and immu- table conftitution*. The J. J. Rouffeau attributes the ftrength, the fplendor, and liberty of England, to the deftruction of thoſe wolves with which it was formerly infefted. Happy nation! It has drove away wolves a thousand times more dangerous, and fuch as fill defolate other countries. Many objects look best at a distance; it would be happy for us if we could fer our country from the fame point of light with this foreigner. $ THE GAZETTES. 351 The Scotch and Iriſh have prefented a petition to parliament, that the names of Scotland and Ireland may be abolished, and that they may make but one body, fpirit, and name, with the English, as they are one by that patriotic fpirit with which they are ani- mated. *** VIENNA, the... • Auftria, who has ever provided Europe with a Face of amiable princeffes, announces that he now has feven marriageable beauties, who will efpoufe thofe princes of the earth that have given the faircft proofs of tendernefs for their people. *** From the HAGUE, the .. This laborious people, who have made a garden of a foil the most marfhy and barren, who have brought all the productions fcattered over the earth to a ſpot that ſcarcely produces a flint, are inceffantly exercising their ſurpriſing induſtry, and fhowing the world, what fortitude, patience, and perfeverance can perform. An extreme thirst for gold no longer prevails among them. This republic has become more powerful by diſcovering thoſe ſnares that were fecretly intended to deftroy it. They found that it was more eaſy to ſet bounds to the enraged ocean, than to refift an infidious metal; and they now de- fend Hh 2 352 THE GAZETTES. fend themſelves with as much refolution againſt luxury as against the affaults of the fea. *** PARIS, the .... Twelve veffels, of fix hundred tuns each, are ar- rived at this capital, and have brought plenty of pro- vifions. We now eat fifh without paying ten times their original value. The new bed of the Seine, dug from Rouen to this city, requiring fome reparations, they have affigned the fum of a million and a half of livres, to be taken from the public treaſury. That fum will be fufficient, as they make no ufe of regiſters or undertakers. A moſt devouring, infolent, puerile, capricious and enormous luxury, no longer reigns on the borders of the Seine; but one that promotes induſtry, that cre- ates new commodities, and adds to our conveniences; an uſeful and neceffary luxury, fo eafy to be diftin- guiſhed, and which ought never to be confounded with that of pride and oftentation, which infults the ſtation of the common people, and tends to render it wretched by its effects and example *. The * When ſhall we ceafe to fee that monftrous inequality of fortunes, that exceffive opulence, which produces fo much extreme indigence, and is the fource of all our crimes! When fhall we ceafe to fee the poor labourer, unable to relieve himſelf by his induſtry, from a miſery in which he is held by the very laws of his country! Another ftretch- THE GAZETTES. 353 ; . They have repaired the ftatue of Voltaire, which the literati, the most diflinguiſhed by their talents and their probity, erected while he was yet living. His right foot is placed on the ignoble front of F***; but as the public contempt has much disfigured the face of that Zoilus, they would repair it in a manner that fall fhew all fenfelefs critics the fate that will attend them. As they have not preferved the por- trait of that feribler, who wrote a periodical work for bread; they want to know the head of what baſe, envious and malignant animal they hall put in its Atead? They not They no longer affigned to another The Parifians have now juft notions of their na- tural, civil, and political rights. ftupidly imagine that they have the property of their perfons and effects. They are ftill fond of bon mots, of fongs and vaudevilles; but they have learned, at the fame time, to give a folidity to thofe pleaſantries. **** I turned and returned thefe loofe fheets; I ftill fought fomething curious. I looked for the article Verſailles, ftretching forth a trembling hand, fearful at once of the looks and the repulfe of his fellow-mortal! When ſhall we ceaſe to ſee thoſe monſters, that turn away their heads, and refuſe him a morfel of bread! When will thoſe very men ceaſe to famiſh a city, by making the proviſions as dear as in a town that is besieged! But the finances are exhauſted, commerce in general finks, the nation is har- raffed with miſeries; all ſuffers, and the manners of people conſequently ſuffer a horrid depravation. Alas! alas.l: Hh3 1 } 354 THE GAZETTES. Verfailles, but my eager fight could never find it. The maſter of the houſe perceived my embarraſſ- ment, and aſked me what I fought. The most in- terefting article in the world, I replied; news froma the place where the court commonly refides; in fhort, the article of Verfailles; fo particular, fo various, and intereſting 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 fin of omiflion. Our monarch conſtantly refides in the capital. He is furrounded by the regards of the people. His ear is conftantly open to their cries. He does not hide himſelf in a fort of defert, ſur- rounded by a herd of gilded flaves. He refides in the centre of his dominious, as the fun in the centre of the univerfe. That, moreover, is a bridle that holds him within the courſe of his duty. He has no other way to learn all that he ought to know, than by that univerſal voice which pierces directly to his throne. To check that voice would be to rebel againſt the laws; for the monarch is made for the people, and not the people for the monarch. CHAP. * How fevere a fcourge is printing, when it tells a whole nation, that, on fuch a day, fuch a man put on at court the habit of a flave! That another difhonoured himfelf with all the pomp imaginable! And that a third had at length ob- tained the reward of his infamous conduct! What a collec- tion of infipidities! What a grovelling wretched ſtyle ? [ 355 1 CHAP. XLIII. THE FUNERAL ORATION OF A PEASANT. CURIOUS to fee what was become of that Verſailles where I had formerly beheld on one fide, the fplendor of a king in the highest degree of often- tation; and on the other a race of clerks, infolent fcribblers, extending their impertinent idleness to the highest degree poffible. I dreamt that like Jofhua, I topped the courſe of the fun, as it was haftily de- clining; it ſtood ftill at my prayer, as at that of the Jewifh general; and my intention was, I think, lefs criminal than his. I was on the road in a carriage, that was not a pot- de-chambre*. Paffing by a village I faw a company of peasants, their eyes dejected and wet with tears, who were entering a temple. The fight ftruck me; I ordered the carriage to ftop, and followed them in. I faw in the middle of the temple the corpfe of an. old man, in the habit of a peaſant, whoſe white hairs hung down to the ground. The paftor of the village mounted a fmall eminence, and ſaid : "My fellow countrymen, "The man you here fee was for ninety years a be- "nefactor to man kind. He was the fon of a hufband- .6.6 man, *This is the name given to the hackney coaches that ge between Paris and the court. They are commonly filled with valets, that go to Verſailles in ſearch of plunder, and may therefore properly be faid to carry the dregs of France. 356 THE FUNERAL ORATION F "man, and in infancy his feeble hands attempted "to guide the plough. As foon as his legs could “fupport him he followed his father in the furrows. "When years had given him that ſtrength for which "he long withed, he faid to his father, Ceafe from 66 your labours: and from that time, each rifing fun "has feen him till the ground, fow, plant, and reap "the harveft. He has cultivated more than two "thouſand acres of freſh land. He has planted the "vine in all the country round about; and to him 'you owe thofe fruit trees that nourish your village, "and afford you ſhelter from the fun. It was not "avarice that made him unwearied in his labours ; "no, it was the love of induftry for which he was. "wont to fay, man was born; and the great and "facred belief that God regarded him when culti- "vating his lands for the nourishment of his chil ❝dren. 66 "He married, and had. twenty-five children. He "formed them all to labour and to virtue, and they "Have all maintained an unblemished character. He as taken care to marry them properly, and led "them with a fmiling afpect to the altar. All his "grand children have been brought up in his houſe; "and you know what a pure, unalterable joy dwells "upon their countenances. All theſe brethren love one another, becauſe he loved them, and made "them fee what pleaſure he found in loving them. "On days of rejoicing, he was the firſt to found "the rural inftruments; and his looks, his voice, and OF A PEASANT. 357 "and gefture, you know, were the fignals for univer- "fal mirth. You cannot but remember his gaiety, "the lively effect of a peaceful mind, and his fpeeches "full of fenfe and wit; for he had the gift of exer- "ciling an ingenious raillery without giving offence. "He cheriſhed order, from an internal fenfe he had "of virtue. Whom has he ever refuſed to ferve? "When did he fhew himfelf unconcerned at public "or private misfortunes? When was he indifferent "in his country's caufe? His heart was devoted to "it; in his converfation he conſtantly wished for its profperity. " "When age had bent his body, and his legs trem- "bled under him, you have feen him mount to the “ſummit of a hill, and giye leffons of experience to "the young huſbandmen. His memory was the "faithful depofitory of obfervations made during the "courfe of fourfcore fucceffive 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 harveſts, "the deaths and legacies to the poor. He feemed "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, I am "drawing nigh to that Being, who is the Author "of all good, whom I have always adored, and in "whom I truſt. To-morrow prune your pear-trees, "and 358 THE FUNERAL ORATION, &e. "and at the ſetting of the fun, bury me at the head " of my grounds. "You are now, children, going to place him there, "and ought to imitate his example. But, before << you inter thefe white hairs, which have fo long "attracted refpest, behold with reverence his hard- "ened hands; behold the honourable marks of his "long labours." The orator then held up one of his cold hands. It had acquired twice the ufual fize by continual labour, and ſeemed to be invulnerable to the point of the briar, or the edges of the flint. He then reſpectfully kiffed the hand, and all the company followed his example. His children bore him to the grave on three ſheaves of corn, and buried him as he had defired, placing on his grave, his hedging-bill, his fpade, and a plough-fhare. Ah! I cried, if thofe men celebrated by Boffuet, Flechier, Mafcaron, and Neuville, had the hundredth part of the virtue of this villager, I would pardon them their pompous and futile cloquence. CHAP. [ 359 ] CHAP. XLIV. VERSAILLES. I ARRIVED at Verfailles, and looked round for that fuperb palace, from whence iffued the deſtiny of many nations. What was my furpriſe! I could perceive nothing but ruins, gaping walls, and mutil- lated ſtatues; fome porticos, half-demolifhed, afforded a confufed idea of its ancient magnificence. As I walked over thefe ruins, I faw an old man fitting upon the capital of a column. Alas! I faid to him, what is become of this vaft palace?" It is fallen.". How?" It was cruſhed by its own weight. A "man in his impatient pride would have here forced "nature. He hastily heaped buildings upon build- "ings; greedy of gratifying his capricious will he "haraffed his fubjects; all the wealth of the nation "was here fwallowed up; here flowed a ſtream of "tears to compoſe thoſe reſervoirs of which there "are now no traces. Behold all that remains of that "coloffus which a million of hands erected with fo "much painful labour. The foundations of this "palace were laid in iniquity; it was an image of "the wretched greatneſs of him that built it*. The "kings, *We magnify thofe pompous fpectacles given to the Roman people; and from them we would infer the grandeur of that empire; but it was wretched when it began to ex- hibit thoſe faftuous fhews, in which the fruits of their victories were diffipated with prodigality. Who built their circufes, their theatres, their baths? Who dug thofe artificial lakes, where a whole fleet was exercifed as in open fea? 360 VERSAILLES. kings, his fucceffors, were obliged to fly from it, "left they fhould be crushed by its fall. O, may "theſe ruins cry aloud to all fovereigns; that they "who abuſe a momentary power, only diſcover their "weakneſs to future generations."-At theſe words, he fhed a flood 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 theſe ruins by no means declare any public calamity. He raiſed his voice and faid: "Oh, how wretched is << my fate! Know that I am Lewis XIV. who built "this rueful palace. The Divine Juſtice has again "illumined the torch of my days, to make me con- "template more nearly my deplorable enterprize. "How tranfient are the moments of pride; I muſt "now and for ever weep. O, that I had but "known*....." I was going to aſk him a queſtion, when one of the adders, with which this place fwarm- ed, darted from a broken column, flung me on the neck, and I waked. Thoſe crowned monſters, whoſe tyrannic pride cruſhed one half of the people to divert the other. The enormous boaſted pyramids of Egypt are nothing more than monu- ments of defpotifm. Republics may conftruct acqueducts, canals, highways, and public places; but every palace that is erected by an arbitrary monarch, forms the foundation of an approaching calamity. *Placed in the middle of Europe, commanding the ocean, and by the long extent and winding of its coafts, over the feas of Flanders, Spain, and Germany, commu- nicating with the Mediterranean, &c. what a kingdom is France and what people feem to have more right to be happy! THE END.