The Memoirs of Charles-Lewis, Baron de Pollnitz, Volume II / Being the Observations He Made in His Late Travels from Prussia Thro' Germany, Italy, France, Flanders, Holland, England, &c. in Letters to His Friend. Discovering Not Only the Present State of the Chief Cities and Towns; but the Characters of the Principal Persons at the Several Courts.

by Freiherr von Karl Ludwig Pöllnitz

LETTER XLIII.

SIR,Paris, May 28, 1732.

I was puzzled some time ago, to think what could make the French forget Father Girard and la Cadiere, and the pretended St. Paris; for I apprehended, those two Articles would be the Subject of Conversation a great while longer; but I was mistaken: ’Tis all forgot; and there’s something now upon the Tapis, of quite another Kind.

The Archbishop of Paris having thought fit to issue his Mandate for suppressing a certain printed Paper, intitled Nouvelles Ecclesiastiques, (a Sort of Ecclesiastical News-Journal) the Parliament of Paris was disgusted, and made an Arret, condemning the Archbishop’s Mandate. The Court took the Prelate’s Part, and declar’d all that was done by the Parliament upon this Occasion, null and void. The Parliament standing up mightily for its Privileges, which nevertheless it holds only by the good Pleasure of its Kings, discontinued its Assemblies, and the King was obliged to issue

repeated Orders, before the Members would resume their Business. Mean time the Advocates and Solicitors have thought fit to espouse the Cause of the Parliament, and refuse to plead till the King has done Justice to the Parliament, (’tis their own Term) by preserving it in the Possession of Appeals against Incroachments; which it has really enjoy’d for many Years, and which is the Ground of the present Disputes. The Parliament say, that they are the more justifiable in supporting this antient Prerogative, because they are obliged to it in Conscience, and for the Welfare of the State committed to their Charge. For, say they, what would be the Consequence, were the Archbishop’s Mandate to be authorized? The Pope and the Bishops would, by Degrees, assume that Right which they pretend to, of pronouncing Excommunications for very trivial Causes, and even of putting the King himself under an Interdict, and consequently of usurping a Temporal Despotic Power under the Umbrage of their Spiritual Power, which, say the Parliament, is absolutely contrary to the Liberties of the Gallican Church; by Virtue whereof, ’tis sufficient for the Parliament alone, in the like Case, to stigmatize and condemn those Nouvelles Ecclesiastiques, as they have already done for a long Time.

This is, in general, the Situation of Affairs, and the Substance of the Arguments made use of by the Parliament for the Maintenance of their Rights, which are stuff’d with Abundance of pompous Terms, such as the Obligations of Conscience, the Liberties of the Gallican Church, and a thousand such Expressions, with which the very Hawkers make your Ears ring as you go along the Streets. The Ladies too have for the present laid aside all the Jargon of Dresses, to learn that Language; and she who us’d to talk of Cornets

and Gorgets, now assumes the Style of an Advocate, pleads for Gallican Liberties, overturns the Church, and sends the Sacred College and the Bishops to the Gallies. In short, I can’t express to you, how ridiculous the French are in these Cases. Being fond of every Thing that’s new, be it good or bad, they catch at it blindfold; which is a plain Confirmation of the Inconstancy of these People, who are so fickle, that I verily believe, if any one should take a Fancy to preach Mahometanism to them, they would embrace it with their usual Levity.

The following, my dear Friend, is a Piece of Poetry, which, I think, is good, and make no Doubt will please you. The Subject of it is, Christian Tranquillity. If I can pick up any Thing new for you, before I go hence, I will not fail to send it to you. I supp’d lately in a Place with M. de Voltaire, and another Poet, the latter of whom rehearsed a very pretty Piece to us, of which he refused to give us a Copy, pretending ’twas imperfect; but however, he has promised it to me. When I have it, I will send it to you.

TRANQUILLITÉ CHRÉTIENNE.	CHRISTIAN TRANQUILLITY.
Surles les Disputes du Tems.	On the Disputes of the Times.
Plein d’ignorance et de Miseres,	Why wilt, audacious mortal Man,
Pourquoi, Mortel audacieux,	So wretched, and so ignorant,
Veux-tu sur des profonds mysteres	On Mysteries dark and profound
Porter un œil trop curieux!	resume to cast an Eye too nice?
Toi, pour qui toute la Nature	Dost thou, to whom all Nature seems
Ne paroit qu’une Enigme obscure,	But an impenetrable Riddle,
Tu sondes les Divins Decrets?	Pretend to fathom God’s Decrees?
Tu croi que ton foible gênie	Think’st thou thy feeble Genius can
De l’Intelligence infinie	The mighty Secrets e’er unfold
Pourra dévoiler les Secrets?	Of infinite Intelligence?
Crains les ténèbres respectables,	Fear thou the dark, but awful Shades,
Où Dieu cache sa Majesté;	Where God his Majesty conceals;
De ses Desseins impénétrables	For who the Veil can penetrate
Qui peut percer l’obscurité?	Of his impenetrable Schemes?
Mesure la vaste étendue	Measure the vast immense Extent
De ces Globes, qu’offre à la vue	Of all those Globes that may be seen
Un tems serein et lumineux.	In Weather most serene and bright.
Mais arrête ici ton audace,	But here thy fond Presumption check;
Tu ne peux voir que la surface	For thou nought but the Surface seest
De ce Théatre merveilleux.	Of this Theatre wonderful.
Où t’emporte l’ardeur extréme	Where will thy furious Ardor stop,
De tout comprendre, et de tout voir?	All Things to comprehend and see?
Tu ne te connois pas toi-même:	And know’st not what thou art
L’Esprit échape à son savoir;	thyself,
Et la Raison impérieuse	Thy Mind a Stranger to its Bounds:
De la Grace victorieuse	Will then imperious Reason dare
Veut pénétrer la Profondeur!	Presume to penetrate the Depths
Paul, tout rempli de sa Lumiere,	Of all-victorious Grace Divine?
Nous apprend quelle est la maniere	Great Paul, in whom its Light shone full,
Dont elle agit sur notre cœur.	Explains to us the Manner how
	Grace operates upon our Hearts.
Je sens en moi que la Nature	I feel within, that Nature’s self
Veut établir ma Liberté;	To fix my Freedom makes Efforts;
Elle se plaint, elle murmure,	And when her Power is controll’d
Quand son pouvoir est disputé.	She murmurs inward, and complains.
Mais si j’interroge mon Ame	But if my Soul I do but ask
Comment une céleste flâme	Which way a Flame celestial
La fait agir, la fait mouvoir;	Induces it to act and move;
Je crains que cette Ame hautaine	I fear this haughty swelling Soul
Ne donne à la puissance humaine,	To human Power will ascribe
Ce qui vient du Divin Pouvoir.	That which to Pow’r Divine is due.
Surpris de l’Intervalle immense	Astonish’d at the Space immense
Qu’on voit de l’Homme au Créateur,	Betwixt the Creature and Creator,
Si je n’admets une Puissance	If I do not a Pow’r confess
Qui concourt avec son Auteur,	Concurring with its Author,
Ce n’est plus pour moi qu’un vain titre,	Free Agency, or that Free-will
Que le franc, que le libre Arbitre,	Of which my Reason so much vaunts,
Que ma Raison sais tant vanter:	Is but for me an empty Plea:
Je ne connois plus de Justice,	That Justice I no longer own,
Qui récompense et qui punisse,	Which doth reward and punish too,
Ce qui ne peut rien mériter.	What strictly neither can deserve.
Ainsi mon Ame est suspendue	Thus is my Soul held in Suspense
Entre les Sentimens divers.	Betwixt Opinions contrary.
Par-tout où je porte ma vue,	Where-e’er my roving Eyes I turn
Je vous des Abîmes ouverts.	Abysses open to my View.
Pour me garantir du naufrage,	For fear of being cast away,
Je n’ose quitter le rivage;	I dare not quit the Sight of Shore;
La crainte assûre mon repos.	And ’tis this Fear my Peace secures.
Combien, dans cette Mer profonde,	How many, in this Ocean deep,
Flottant à la merci de l’onde,	Floating at Mercy of the Waves,
Se perdent au milieu des flots?	Are by those Waves immerg’d and lost!
De tant de disputes fameuses,	Let us the dang’rous Tracks avoid
Où nous embarque notre orgueil,	Of those Disputes but too well known,
Fuyons les Routes dangereuse:	In which our Pride engageth us:
L’Homme à Lui-même est un écueil;	Man’s to himself a fatal Rock;
Dans le petis Monde sensible,	For in this little World of ours
Est un Dédale imperceptible,	There is a Dadalus unseen,
Dont nous ignorons les Détours.	Whose Windings are to us unknown.
La Foi de notre sort decide:	’Tis Faith our Fortune doth decide,
Elle tient le fil qui nous guide;	She holds the Thread which is our Guide;
Sans elle, nous errons toujours.	Or else we always go astray.
Heureux le cœur simple et docile,	Happy that honest docile Heart,
Qui sans raisonner sur la Foi,	Which without reas’ning about Faith
Respecte dans nos Saints Conciles	Our Holy Councils venerates,
Le sacré dépôt de la Foi;	The Sacred Guardians of that Faith;
Ne franchissant point la Barriere,	And dares not climb o’er that Barrier.
Que le Pere de la lumiere	Fix’d by the Father of all Light
Met aux vains efforts de l’esprit.	Against proud Reason’s vain Efforts.
A quoi nos soins doivent-ils tendre?	To what shou’d our Endeavours tend?
Est-ce à pratiquer, ou comprendre	Is it to practice, or comprise
Ce que le Ciel nous a prescrit?	The Things which Heaven has prescrib’d?
Laissons la Sagesse éternalle	Let’s to Eternal Wisdom leave
Disposer des cœurs à son gré:	The sole Disposal of all Hearts:
Il suffit à l’Homme fidelle,	The true Believer is content,
Que par lui Dieu soit adoré.	That God by him shou’d be ador’d.
Qu’importe à ces Docteurs habiles,	What do these cunning Doctors gain,
Que par des Raisons trop subtiles	Who by too subtle Arguments
Un Système soit combattu?	A System strive to overthrow?
Que produit leur haute science,	What does their Knowledge great avail,
Si Dieu ne met dans la Balance	If God but in the Balance cast
Que l’Innocence & la Vertu?	Virtue and Innocence to turn the Scale?

It were to be wish’d, that every Frenchman had the same Christian Tranquillity; for then they would not worry one another as they now do, nor would they give such a Scandal to Europe. But the Matter is push’d so far, that I don’t foresee how a Stop can be put to it. It will be always a Worm preying upon the Vitals of France, and a Bone of Contention between the Court and Parliament.

Some Days ago, the Court banish’d the Abbé Pucelle, a Counsellor of Parliament. This Man is another Broussel, and I believe, he would be overjoy’d, if he could revive the ancient Barricades

which were erected during the Minority of Lewis XIV. after the Queen Mother Anne of Austria had caus’d that same Broussel to be put under an Arrest. But as yet there does not appear to be so much Rout about the Abbé Pucelle, notwithstanding he made a very great Noise in Parliament. There he spoke like an Angel, and every body said he defended the Liberties of the Gallican Church so well, that nobody could do it better. Nevertheless, I am apprehensive, that he will be at a Loss how to vindicate his own Liberty; and I am very much mistaken, if he has not a Lodging at Vincennes, or the Bastile, before he dies. The Parliament leaves no Stone unturn’d, that he may be recalled; and will do no Business at all, till that dear Brother of theirs is restored. Mean time, all Affairs are at a Stand, by which private Persons are the Sufferers: And yet these very Counsellors, who make a Scruple of Conscience to register an Edict from the King, which infring’d the ancient Privileges of the Parliament, don’t care what becomes of poor Widows and Orphans, that languish for the Issue of a Process kept in Suspense by these Domestic Quarrels! In Truth, I cannot but admire the good Nature of the King, and the Moderation of the Cardinal de Fleury. I am sure, that the Regent, and the Cardinal Dubois, would not have had so much Patience: For the former sent the Parliament to Pontoise, and caus’d the Members to be arrested and banish’d for a less Offence; and at the Time too, when the Parliament remonstrated against the Alteration of the Species, in which the Fortune of every Frenchman was concerned. Hitherto all the Representations of the Parliament for the Return of the Abbé Pucelle, have been of no Effect; and I fansy, that the first President will be forced to

make another Trip to Compiegne, where the King has for some Time past resided[79].

A Couplet has lately been made upon the Abbé’s Exile: I don’t remember the Beginning of it, but it ends thus;

Que de bonnes gens vont pleurer! Que de filles vont crier, Rendez-nous Pucelle, ô gai, Rendez-nous Pucelle!

i. e.

How do the good Women lament! How do the Daughters cry, Give us back Pucelle, Give us back Pucelle[80]!

You must allow the French are merry Mortals. Let what will happen, they’ll find something or other in it to divert them. Every thing is to them a Subject for a Song; and I remember to have heard of a Ballad they made and sung upon the Plague in Provence, in 1720. Mean time, these Jarrings between the Court and Parliament have absolutely effac’d the Memory of the blessed Paris. ’Tis true, he began to be out of Vogue, after the Court caus’d the Church-yard of St. Medard to be stopp’d up, where he lies interr’d. If this had been done at first, a great deal of Scandal would have been prevented. I am very sorry I can’t stay to see what will be the End of all these Things; but my Affairs call me to Germany, whither I propose to set out the first Opportunity; therefore write to me no more at present.

Two Days ago, I saw such a Slur put upon the Charms of a young Lady, that she was thoroughly mortified. ’Twas the Marchioness de R——, one of the Ladies of the Bed-chamber. She has been us’d, for a long time, to daub her Face very awkwardly, with a great deal of White, Red, and Patches; but on that Day she out-did herself. She came into the Garden of the Thuilleries, on Purpose to be admir’d; for she has the Reputation of a very great Coquette: But she was hooted at by a great many smart Fellows that follow’d her, and gather’d all the Mob about her, so that the poor Lady was glad to retire; and being oblig’d to wait a little for her Coach, was very much hiss’d into the Bargain by those prodigal Puppies the Lacqueys; so that in my Life I never saw a Woman more run down.

The same Night I supped with the Marquis de L——, whom I had never seen before. I was told by a certain Lady, That he ow’d his Fortune to an old Woman: For tho’ he was a Man of a good Family, yet, being a younger Brother, he was not rich. When he was twenty Years of Age, he pleased the Marchioness de L——, who was threescore and ten, to such a Degree, that she offer’d to marry him; and the Marquis, who was then but a plain Gentleman, did not want very much Intreaty to accept the Proposal; for tho’ he was a Man of a handsome Presence, he did not presume to think that any young Woman would fall in Love with him, who had one hundred and fifty thousand good Livres a Year to her Fortune, which was what the Marchioness really had to bestow upon whom she pleased. As the two Lovers return’d from the Church of St. Sulpice, where they were married, the Marchioness carried her Spouse to her own House; and leading him into an Apartment, You need not be afraid, Sir, said

she; don’t imagine that I married you to toy with. This is your Apartment; mine is on the other Side of the House. You shall lie here, and I’ll lie in my own Chamber. I was willing to make a Man of you, because I took you for a deferring young Fellow: But this I could not do, without taking you to be my Husband; and I had rather it should be said, that I am an old Fool for marrying a young Fellow, than to give any Colour for reporting, that I keep you in Pay. ’Tis more honourable both for you and me, that we are married; for now I can do what I please for you without the Censure of the Public. This, too, is what I have resolv’d on; and as I have no Relations, you may depend upon it, that all I have in the World will be one Day or other your own. All the Acknowledgment I desire of you, is some little Share in your Respect, and I am persuaded you are too much of a Gentleman to use me ill. Judge you how much the Marquis was surprised, at a Speech which he so little expected. He was ready to fall at the Feet of his Bride, and to give her Proofs of his Ecstasy of Love, when she push’d him from her, and said, None of these extraordinary Fits, I beseech you, Sir; let us live together like Friends: All the rest is superfluous. In short, she gave him to understand, ’twas her absolute Determination, that he should never think of her as his Wife. The Marquis was obliged to comply; and after having liv’d thus in perfect Harmony for seven Years, the Lady died, and left her Husband Heir to all her Estate.

The young Fellows undoubtedly stand the best Chance for the great Fortunes. I had Engagements here, when I was but twenty-two Years of Age, with an old Lady too, but she was not altogether to disinterested as the Marchioness de L——; for tho’ she was kind to me, she obliged me to a great deal of Duty. This Lady of mine was forty Years older than myself; yet

what with Patches, and the Red and the White, her Charms were renewed every Day to such a Degree, that ’twas well I was twenty-two Years of Age, or else they would have frightened me. But fourscore thousand Livres a Year, which I always kept in View, made me take that for natural, which was only artificial; insomuch that if I had been put to my Oath, I know not whether I should not have sworn that my superannuated Mistress was but in her Teens. We lived a couple of Years together very lovingly. The Lady happened to have two Sons living, old enough both of ’em, to be my Fathers; yet she did not despair of having another Brood. For this End she proposed Matrimony to me, and I freely consented. But my Sons-in-law in futuro, being advertised, by whom I know not, where I had appointed a Meeting with their Mother, came and fell at her Feet, and conjured her not to wrong them and their Children, (for they were both married) by marrying me. The Lady was stagger’d in her Resolution, and was just going to promise her Sons, that she would not have me; when I came to her in the Nick of Time, and so encouraged her by my Presence, that she got the better of her Weakness.

Mean time, the Sons sprung a new Mine, which answered their End. Their Mother was a Coquet, but one of the pious Sort, and devoted that Time to God, which she did not spend with me, or at her Toilet. The Sons detached a Priest of St. Sulpice to her. The holy Man chose his Opportunity when I was abroad. I did not foresee, that a Blow would come from such a Quarter; or else the Swiss, and all her Domestics, being my Creatures, I could easily have kept him out of the House. He discharged his Commission so effectually, that he prevailed to have the

Signing of the Marriage Articles, which were to have been executed the very next Day, put off for three Months longer. I was not very much chagrin’d when I heard this News; for I confess, I flatter’d myself, that ’twas not possible for the Lady to escape me. By the Description I have given you of my Sweetheart, you will imagine that I was not over Head and Ears in Love. Whatever Scruple the Priest of St. Sulpice had raised in her, she carried it to me the same as ever: We still liv’d very lovingly together, and I had considerable Presents made to me, which I squandered away as fast as I received. At the same Time, I did not dare to mention any Writings for my Security; and to talk to a Mistress of threescore Years and ten, about making her Last Will and Testament, was, I thought, a strange kind of Courtship, and the Way to spoil all.

Nevertheless, this Misfortune fell upon me, when I least of all expected it. As I went one Morning into my Dear’s Chamber, I found her at her Toilet, complaining of a great Pain in her Head. She told me, That she was in a sad Quandary too, because she had invited People to Dinner, but was not in a Condition to keep them Company; and she desired me, therefore, to do them the Honours of her House: But I prevailed with her to send Word to those whom she had invited, that she was ill, and that she should be glad to see them another Time. I then left her, with a Promise to come back and dine with her; and having taken a Walk, I returned accordingly; when I found her dress’d more gay than usual. She told me, that a Dish or two of Coffee had quite remov’d her Head-ach, and that she had trick’d herself up to please me. We din’d together, but she eat very little, and began very soon to complain again; so

that I made her lie down upon the Bed, and taking a Book in my Hand, I sat down by her to read, while she rested: But all on a sudden, I felt her lay hold of my Hand, and as I turned about to her, my Mistress gave my Hand a Squeeze, and that Instant expir’d. I called for Help, and both Surgeons and Physicians came, by whose Order she was blooded; but ’twas to no Purpose: For there’s no returning from the Shore of the Dead.

This Accident so surprized me, that I did not so much as think of securing my own Effects; but went into my Room, and presently I was given to understand, that one of the Sons of the Deceased was come with an Officer to seal up all her Effects. I did not in the least oppose it, nor, indeed, had I any manner of Title to dispute it. But my Good-nature only made the Son the more insolent; for he even came into my own Apartment, to seal up such Effects as belong’d to me. I told him, that if he did not withdraw, I would make my Servants, and those of the Deceased, who had all a Respect for me, turn him out. During this, the late M. de N——, a Counsellor of Parliament, who was very much my Friend, came to see me, who advised me to quit my Quarters with all Speed, and to pack up every Thing that belong’d to me immediately. He also offer’d me Room in his House for my Furniture, and other Effects; which Offer I accepted, and in a few Hours every Thing of mine was clear’d off of the Premises. The Sons, after this, threaten’d to enter an Action against me; but as they had no Proof of any Thing that I ow’d to their Mother, they did not presume to molest me. If I had been of the Temper then, that I am now, I should not have so soon forgot the Loss I suffer’d; for, besides a good She-Friend, which is a

rare and precious Thing, I lost the Hopes of a splendid Fortune.

I know not how it came into my Head, to entertain you with my quondam Amours. But ’tis a Vein of Prating which I am indulg’d in, more by you than by any body. Farewel, my Dear, you will hear no more of me about this Country, for I am preparing to quit it the very first Opportunity.

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