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

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]!