Should we suffer the contagion to touch our fair partner, all is gone, and too late shall we say,
"O fairest of creation! last and best
"Of all God's works, creature in whom excell'd
"Whatever can to sight or thought be form'd,
"Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet!
"How art thou lost,—and now to death devote?
"And me with thee hast ruin'd; for with thee
"Certain my resolution is to die."
CHAP. III.
The German Union.
When such a fermentation had been excited in the public mind, it cannot be supposed that the formal suppression of the Order of the Illuminati in Bavaria, and in the Duchy of Wirtemberg, by the reigning princes, would bring all to rest again. By no means. The minds of men were predisposed for a change by the restless spirit of speculation in every kind of enquiry, and the leaven had been carefully and skilfully disseminated in every quarter of the empire, and even in foreign countries. Weishaupt said, on good grounds, that "if the Order should be discovered and suppressed, he would restore it with tenfold energy in a twelvemonth." Even in those states where it was formally abolished, nothing could hinder the enlisting new members, and carrying on all the purposes of the Order. The Areopagitæ might indeed be changed, and the seat of the direction transferred to some other place, but the Minerval and his Mentor could meet as formerly, and a ride of a few miles into another State, would bring him to a Lodge, where the young would be amused, and the more advanced would be engaged in serious mischief. Weishaupt never liked children's play. He indulged Philo in it, because he saw him taken with such rattles: but his own projects were dark and solemn, and it was a relief to him now to be freed from that mummery. He soon found the bent of the person's mind on whom he had set his talons, and, he says, that "no man ever escaped him whom he thought it worth while to secure." He had already filled the lists with enough of the young and gay, and when the present condition of the Order required sly and experienced heads, he no longer courted them by play-things. He communicated the ranks and the instructions by a letter, without any ceremony. The correspondence with Philo at the time of the breach with him, shews the superiority of Spartacus. Philo is in a rage, provoked to find a pitiful professor discontented with the immense services which he had received from a gentleman of his rank, and treating him with authority, and with disingenuity.—He tells Spartacus what still greater services he can do the Order, and that he can also ruin it with a breath.—But in the midst of this rage, he proposes a thousand modes of reconcilement. The smallest concession would make him hug Spartacus in his arms. But Spartacus is deaf to all his threats, and firm as a rock. Though he is conscious of his own vile conduct, he abates not in the smallest point, his absolute authority—requires the most implicit submission, which he says "is due not to him, but to the Order, and without which the Order must immediately go to ruin."—He does not even deign to challenge Philo to do his worst, but allows him to go out of the Order without one angry word. This shows his confidence in the energy of that spirit of restless discontent, and that hankering after reform which he had so successfully spread abroad.
This had indeed arisen to an unparalleled height, unexpected even by the seditious themselves. This appeared in a remarkable manner by the reception given to the infamous letters on the constitution of the Prussian States.
The general opinion was, that Mirabeau was the author of the letters themselves, and it was perfectly understood by every person, that the translation into French was a joint contrivance of Mirabeau and Nicholai. I was assured of this by the British Minister at that Court. There are some blunders in respect of names, which an inhabitant of the country could hardly be guilty of, but are very consistent with the self-conceit and precipitancy of this Frenchman.—There are several instances of the same kind in two pieces, which are known for certain to be his, viz. the Chronique scandaleuse and the Histoire secrette de la Cour de Berlin. These letters were in every hand, and were mentioned in every conversation, even in the Prussian dominions—and in other places of the empire they were quoted, and praised, and commented on, although some of their contents were nothing short of rebellion.
Mirabeau had a large portion of that self-conceit which distinguishes his countrymen. He thought himself qualified not only for any high office in administration, but even for managing the whole affairs of the new King. He therefore endeavoured to obtain some post of honour. But he was disappointed, and, in revenge, did every thing in his power to make those in administration the objects of public ridicule and reproach. His licentious and profligate manners were such as excluded him from the society of the people of the first classes, whom it behoved to pay some attention to personal dignity. His opinions were in the highest degree corrupted, and he openly professed Atheism. This made him peculiarly obnoxious to the King, who was determined to correct the disturbances and disquiets which had arisen in the Prussian states from the indifference of his predecessor in those matters. Mirabeau therefore attached himself to a junto of writers and scribblers, who had united in order to disseminate licentious principles, both in respect of religion and of government. His wit and fancy were great, and he had not perhaps his equal for eloquent and biting satire. He was therefore caressed by those writers as a most valuable acquisition to their Society. He took all this deference as his just due; and was so confident in his powers, and so foolish, as to advise, and even to admonish, the King. Highly obnoxious by such conduct, he was excluded from any chance of preferment, and was exceedingly out of humour. In this state of mind he was in a fit frame for Illumination. Spartacus had been eyeing him for some time, and at last communicated this honour to him through the intermedium of Mauvillon, another Frenchman, Lieutenant-Colonel in the service of the Duke of Brunswick. This person had been most active during the formal existence of the Order, and had contributed much to its reception in the Protestant states—he remained long concealed. Indeed his Illumination was not known till the invasion of Holland by the French. Mauvillon then stepped forth, avowed his principles, and recommended the example of the French to the Germans. This encouragement brought even Philo again on the stage, notwithstanding his resentment against Spartacus, and his solemn declaration of having abjured all such societies.—These, and a thousand such facts, show that the seeds of licentious Cosmopolitism had taken deep root, and that cutting down the crop had by no means destroyed the baneful plant.—But this is not all—a new method of cultivation had been invented, and immediately adopted, and it was now growing over all Europe in another form.