"Recollect," said the prince to him, "from the confessional of the marchioness to the confessional of the king there is but a step."
Père de Sacy could not resist the temptation of such an attractive position; he went to the marchioness. Madame de Pompadour, proud of having for a confessor a man who had been appointed Procureur-gènèral of the Missions, received him most graciously. She had other reasons also for seeking to conciliate the Jesuit—her principal one was this:—Up to this time the Jesuitical party that had risen against her at Versailles, the queen, the dauphin, Père Griffet, Cardinal de Luynes, the Bishop of Verdun, and M. de Nicolai, had hoped to drive her from court as a miscreant. Now, once declared worthy of heaven by a Jesuit of such high standing as Père de Sacy, would she not become in some sort inviolable and sacred? With these designs, then, she put in force all her arts of seduction against her confessor; never did she display more grace, wit, or beauty. Père de Sacy, who allowed himself to be taken captive unresistingly by the battery of charms thus brought to bear upon him, visited her seven or eight times to speak of confession, without, however, coming to any conclusion upon the subject. As the good city of Paris had not at the moment any matter of graver importance wherewith to occupy its attention, it began to grow witty on the subject of this confession; a thousand chansons were composed upon the father confessor and his fair penitent. Piron arrived one evening at the Cafè Procope, exclaiming that he had news from Versailles.
"Well," inquired some one, "has the marchioness confessed?"
"No," replied Piron; "Madame de Pompadour cannot agree with Père de Sacy as to the style of confession."
The following day there was a great uproar among the Jesuits; the procureur-général of the missions was summoned before their Council of Ten, and was obliged to confess himself. He received a severe reprimand from the superior of the order, and, as the price of his absolution, was commanded to refuse his counsels to the marchioness, and to excuse himself in the best manner he could for his previous delay.
Père de Sacy accordingly presented himself for the last time before
Madame de Pompadour, and the following conversation took place:—
"We cannot grant you, madame," began the holy father, "the absolution you desire; your sojourn at court far from your husband, the public scandal relative to the favor which it is alleged the king accords you, does not permit of your approaching the holy table. The priest who would sanction such a proceeding, in place of absolving you, would pronounce a double condemnation—yours and his own; whilst the public, accustomed to judge harshly the conduct of the great, would confirm the sentence beyond appeal. You have testified to me, madame, that you are desirous of fulfilling the duties of a good Christian; but example is the first of these duties, and in order to obtain and merit absolution, your first proceeding must be to return to M. d'Etioles, or at least quit the court and seek, by penitence and charity, to repair the sins you have committed against that society whose laws you have outraged, and which, declares itself scandalized at your separation, from your husband."
Madame de Pompadour heard these words with the calmness and immobility of a statue; but as soon as the priest had terminated she burst forth,—
"Père de Sacy," she exclaimed, violently, "you are a fool, an impostor, a true Jesuit. Do you understand me? You have sought to enjoy a triumph over me by witnessing the state of embarrassment in which you imagined I was placed; you would gladly, you and yours, see me far from the king: but, poor short-sighted mortals that you are! Know that I am here as powerful as you imagine me weak and tottering; and in spite of you, in spite of all the Jesuits in the world, I shall remain at court, whilst you and your pack will not only be banished from court, but driven ignominiously out of the kingdom."
From that hour the fall of the Jesuits was decreed. The holy fathers imagined that the marchioness, like Madame de Chateauroux, was but the queen of a day; but they were mistaken. To do them justice, it must be allowed they believed that nothing was to be feared from such an enemy; for it is very certain that had they seen the power of this woman, who had all the firmness and decision of character of a man, or rather of a revengeful woman, they would, beyond a doubt, have permitted her to approach the holy table, or even have canonized her had she been desirous of the honor.