The second marriage that I think I ought to mention here is that of the old soldier with the daughter one of our new cultivators. Finally, I too have taken a wife. In any well-governed country, marriage has no need of encouragement. Woe betide one that is obliged to accord recompenses to that sweet inclination of nature; it supposes that nature is thwarted by large obstacles! But everything in our fortunate Valley favors that desire so powerfully that our attention is limited to directing choice, matching spouses and, often, moderating their urgency.
We therefore had reason to be astonished in seeing that the minister of the Protestant village who had come to join us was the only one who refused to take a wife—but we were even more surprised when, to our insistence that he explain himself, he declared that he was a Catholic priest and that nothing in the world would be capable of making him perjure the oath he had made to remain celibate. This is the summary of his life that he recounted to us.
IX
“I was born in the class that is qualified as superior, known as the high nobility. As I was the last of three children who were destined to sustain the status of the family at Court and in the army, my place was fixed at birth in the ecclesiastical estate. However, I was born with tastes entirely opposed to the duties of that estate.
“I was told that the opposition in question was not an obstacle, and that scandal was no longer a crime, except for the people. They examples I had before my eyes proved that verity only too well. A host of abbés of quality, celebrated for their libertinage, succeed to the highest dignities, but in the city of Athens I had the soul of a Spartan. Passionate for study, I had attached myself to the philosophy of the Stoics, and the love of virtue held sway over the love of pleasure.
“At the seminary those sentiments attracted the disdain of my masters and the mockery of my comrades. They treated the austerity of my principles as pettiness of spirit, and the purity of my conduct as ignorance of the world. One professor of theology perceived my surprise at the contrast between the morality of Jesus and the doctrine of some of his ministers, and gave me the explanation for it. He was a man very different from his colleagues; as distinguished by his virtues as by his enlightenment, he lived in that mild neglect of society so dear to people who sincerely love study. He had a few obligations to my family, and it was by opening his heart to me that he gave evidence of his gratitude.
“‘All the religions of the world, my friend, are covered in a mysterious veil. I shall not examine the question so much discussed of whether the mystery is useful, and whether it would not be more appropriate if no veil were imposed between the eyes of the people and the truth. That question is one of those that ought only to be decided by experience. Now, I could prove by reasoning that nothing ought to be hidden from the people, but if that principle were adopted it would follow that I, a mere individual, had toppled the edifice of twenty centuries; but if I had done that so easily, another innovator could do the same just as easily by preaching a doctrine different from mine. Thus, the people would be floating eternally in uncertainty, never sure that the religion of today would not be dethroned by the religion of tomorrow.
“‘You might say to me: how can one give one’s assent to mysteries that the human mind is unable to comprehend? I would reply to you: do you understand the system of the world, the causes of the winds, of light, of fire and a host of other things, any better? Over all these things, we do not blush at our ignorance. The one that occupies us, religion, is far more important. Is not the genius of its divine founder of the greatest weight? The suffrage of nearly twenty centuries has sanctioned that sublime institution. It is for us to submit to it with no further examination. If, by virtue of one of those events that sometimes led to political revolution, the base of the religious institution were to be shaken, it is then that examination might be permissible. Until then, that which is remains the sacred ark; let us give the example of obedience and submission.
“‘The double precept contained within Christianity is abused. People pretend to believe in everything about it that is mysterious, and color that belief with the most criminal actions. That is hypocrisy, and is doubtless a great evil. But what have the wicked not abused? It is beyond the strength of the human mind to produce anything perfect; and among the different religions of the world, I do not see one that combines, like ours, as many advantages balanced by so few inconveniences.
“‘Conserve your principles, then,’ the good priest went on, ‘continue to love the truth, but don’t refuse to submit to the religion any more than to the government of your country. Did not Jesus himself submit to the religion instituted by Moses, although he recognized its falsity internally? Did he not fulfill all of its rites, some of which were evidently residues of paganism? How would he have been able to preach his divine morality if he had commenced by castigating all the established usages? Following the example of that sublime model, respect the work of the centuries, but like him, build on the foundations of eternity.’
“The advice of the estimable Doctor affirmed me in the career from which I was ready to exit. I completed my course of study at the seminary, and after having stayed for two years with one of my uncles, who was the Archbishop of , I was summoned to the court in order to occupy a place of confidence with the only son of Louis XIV. I arrived in the famous epoch when the conquest of Holland was intoxicating the monarch with incense. Fine minds, scholars and artists of every order and every class, seemed to be disputing the prize for the vilest flattery. They raised above Marcus Aurelius, Trajan and Henri IV the author of the most unjust, disastrous and futile of all wars.
“Men of genius are rare, and when nature produces one, it not ordinarily on a throne that she places them. The flattery succeeded in persuading Louis XIV that he had superior views and a talent for execution in all things. War, politics and finance: he was capable of guiding everything by himself; on the most mediocre subject, he was capable of playing the most skillful minister. He served as the model in everything, including dancing. His stature was that of Apollo, his gaze that of the sovereign of the gods; men lowered their eyes in terror in his presence, women in modesty and desire. How, with a precise mind, but devoid of genius or education, could he not have been perverted by a poison that kills the strongest minds?
“He had a taste for great things; it developed into a fondness for the gigantic, and forced nature at Versailles and Marly. He liked war; he was persuaded that he ought to be the arbiter of Europe, and all the powers irritated by his ambition drained their treasuries and the blood of their people. He believed in God; he was told that as there was only one sovereign in his empire, there ought similarly to be a single religion, which as his own—and he became a fanatic and a persecutor.
“How long will kings sacrifice the wellbeing of their people to the avidity of their courtiers, the solid and immortal glory of vivifying agriculture, commerce and industry to the frivolous and bloody laurels of conquests, and the title of father to that of oppressor of the fatherland…?”
At this point the old soldier interrupted the former abbé. “I ask your permission,” he said, “to make a great authority on that matter heard. I was once a guard in the antechamber of the Prince de Condé, on a day when he was alone with the celebrated Racine. It was very hot, and the door was kept open to let in a little fresh air. This is the dialogue that I heard between the two great men. I copied it word for word as soon as I was relieved of the sentry duty.
“The Great Condé said: ‘Your very human opinion, my dear Racine, is not very political. It is necessary in France for a king to be an oppressor in order not to be oppressed. I have made war as a matter of duty, and now I make it by inclination, because I have learned to make it, and one ordinarily obtains pleasure from things in which one succeeds; but I confess to you truthfully that I would have preferred peace—and it seems to me that in that condition I would have even more means of obtaining the esteem of my fellow citizens,’
“‘You astonish me, Monsieur,’ said Ra
cine. ‘Your Highness seriously thinks that war is necessary to France? Is it not sufficient for her to be in a state to defend oneself if she were attacked?’
“‘No,’ said Condé. ‘History demonstrates to us that the reigns of those sage and peaceful monarchs who only aspired to be able to repel the enemy if they were attacked, correspond precisely to the times when France was invaded and torn apart by ambitious neighbors. It is frightful to say that a man must be a tyrant or a victim, but without civil laws, force—that great law of nature, would exercise all its empire between simple citizens; savages experience it in all its harshness. Sovereigns, in regard to one another, are in the condition of savages; without laws that repress them, force alone is above them, and in the contest of armed ambitions, the one who is the last to take up arms almost always becomes the prey of his rival.’
“‘And the victor subsequently devours his subjects!’ said Racine.
“‘It seems to me, my dear Racine,’ said Condé, ‘that you are arranging all that as scenes of a tragedy, which ought to finish with the punishment of the crime and the triumph of virtue, but your imagination is misleading you; it is not the most peaceful of monarchs who create the greatest wellbeing for their subjects. Being surrounded by the force of opinion, far superior to real force, they do not even grant them that which they possess; for such is the nature of the people: they exaggerate what escapes their gaze as that which it embraces diminishes. From that widespread and accredited opinion, conspiracies and civil wars are born. Ardent spirits rise up on all sides attempting to overturn the colossus that one insults as soon as one ceases to respect him. It is then that the sovereign sheds blood, or allows the throne to be bloodied by factions. That terrible alternative does not arise with a conquering monarch; his glory is the Medusa’s head that paralyzes with fear and respect. God and peaceful kings are besieged by conspiracies. Louis XIV has never seen one during his reign.’”
“Yes,” the former abbé continued, “that is indeed the character of the great Condé. I have seen the same man weeping at the lines: ‘Let us be friends, Cinna, I say to you./As my enemy I have given you life;/I give it to you again as my murderer,’26 who said so lightly the day after the Seneffe affair, on seeing twenty-five thousand men lying dead on the battlefield: ‘One night in Paris will repair those losses.’27 But don’t you think, my friends, that kings only make their subjects fear them because they don’t know how to make the love them? The Prince de Condé seems to me to be confusing the weakness that one scorns with the moderation that one respects.
“The meaning of expressions is construed differently according to the character of the people who employ them. Thus, an extravagance appears reasonable in the eyes of a madman, and tenderness is regarded as weakness by a despot. The Vicomte de Turenne thought very differently from the Prince on that subject. Of the two great captains, one was as economical with the blood of his soldiers as the other was prodigal. But let’s get back to Louis XIV.
“The pride for which that prince is so often reproached is accompanied by so much nobility of soul and accuracy of mind that one is inclined to regard his faults as the result of his poor education, and his good qualities as those of his natural character. If his good qualities had been better cultivated, he would not have imagined that the nobility is the only portion that belongs to the human race, and that the remainder, comprised under the name of the people, is inferior by nature. He would not have sacrificed the wellbeing of his people to his personal glory so lightly, and would be not only the greatest of kings but the best. At any rate, posterity will never forget thus he obtained, in spite of his enemies, the title of the Great, and it will be confirmed; but it is doubtful that similar confirmation will be given to the title of Restorer of Letters, which has been given to him by the scholars he has pensioned and the courtiers who did not know its value, because it will judge with more impartiality that the letters he protected as a means of grandeur, without either knowing them or liking them, would have achieved by themselves the gleam with which they shone under his reign.
“When the time devoted to the education of a prince has passed, when his ideas have acquired consistency and he has reached the age at which one considers that one has the right to see with one’s own eyes and judge for oneself, the slightest censure is a calumny; only praise in the truth. The vices of Louis’ education at least had the good result that they contributed to ameliorate that of his son. The most honest man in the court, the Duc de Montausier, presided over the formation of his heart; that of his mind was directed by one of the greatest geniuses in France, Bossuet.28
“The dauphin’s tutor enjoyed a consideration in the Church equal to the confidence that the government testified to him. I judged by the research he made of my conversation and the questions that he addressed to me on a few religious opinions that eyes were upon me and wanted to know my principles. I revealed my entire soul to Monsieur Bossuet; he saw a perfectly pure morality, but a somewhat equivocal faith. In vain he strove to destroy what he called my prejudices; he ended up by desiring the grace of which he thought me worthy.
“While awaiting the favor of heaven, however, I lost that of the king; instead of the bishopric that I had the right to expect, a mission in the Calvinist provinces was offered to me; it was evidently a test or a trap. I only saw it as an opportunity to be useful to the unfortunate targets of persecution, and I accepted.
The department of conversions was confided to Monsieur Pellisson.29 Although newly converted himself, Monsieur Pellisson had obtained public esteem by his courageous attachment to Superintendent Fouquet. He was charged with employing gentle means to bring strayed souls back into the fold; he counted greatly on the most persuasive of all: interest, and I wish to God that he had been as efficacious as was hoped, or that the futility of all those means of conversion had put off the government forever.
“Monsieur Pellisson offered me all the money I wanted and let me choose the region to convert. I chose the Languedoc, because it was one of the most distant from the center, and where, in consequence, the abuses of authority were most to be feared; but I refused the money, convinced that consciences ought not to be made into an object of traffic. I was, however, as animated my self with the desire to make proselytes for the Roman Church, not, it is true, because I thought that one could not be a good man in the Protestant church, but because, spiritual power in France being distinct and separate from temporal power, it appeared to me to be impolitic that subjects of the same empire were not submissive to the same authorities. It is religious schism that has rendered civil wars for religious causes so long and so bloody; that is what still maintains the fire that is not hidden. The government thus had good reason to try to extinguish it, by recalling all citizens to the same unity of belief and submission, but the means it was employing did not seem to me to have been properly considered.
“My friends, in the moral and in the physical realm, bad seed only produces poor fruit. As long as it was sought to deceive the Protestants, far from converting them, they would be driven further away. All the appearances of union, amity and fraternity would be rightly suspected by them; beneath the apparatus of fêtes, under the garlands of flowers, they would always see a hidden St. Bartholomew’s Eve. Instead of cunning and lies, I was determined only to proceed in my mission with frankness and verity.
“I began by admitting the first misdeeds of the Roman Church, the principles of the schism of the Protestant Church, such a luxury and libertinage of its ministers and the sale of indulgences, but I explained that those misdeeds had not relationship to the spirit of the religion, that the Roman Church was the first to condemn them, and that they ought to be considered as only of the maladies of the body politic from which no corps on earth is exempt. I insisted on the indulgence that all Christian communions ought to have for their sisters: an indulgence that the legislator of Christianity had recommended so strongly to his disciples.
“Now, you say, given that we are divided in opinion on the
principal articles of the religion, which of the two should retract, Rome or us? You see, I reply, like brothers going to law over a trifle, we end up squandering half the patrimony thereon. Your common morality still being the same, you only have to reconcile yourselves to the rest.
“That was the ordinary text of my discourse. I added commentary, I tried to find striking applications of it, for the language of the people consists of proverbs and exemplars, as that of philosophers consists of principles.
“Those means prospered beyond my hopes, and I saw the proselytes of a henceforth purified religion increasing in numbers by the day, which no longer seemed to be animated by anything other than its divine institutor’s spirit of mildness and reason. However, either because other means had been employed elsewhere that moved the Protestants to rebellion instead of wining them over, or because too ardent a zeal cannot tolerate the slightest delay, the government suddenly changed its measures. It ordered the imprisonment of the ministers of the proscribed sect and removed children who had reached the age of seven in order to raise them in the dominant belief.
“The Archbishop of the province was a prelate of enlightened clarity, a worthy friend of Fénelon and an enemy, like me, of rigorous means.30 He had supported me with all his power, striving to moderate that of the intendant, whose character and principles were entirely opposed. On learning of the new orders from the court, he urged me to remove myself to the heart of these mountains, which were about to be delivered to subalterns of the authority, always more insolent than their masters. I went.
“Already, the local minister had disappeared, and preparations were being made to tear the children from their mothers’ arms. My name, the credit of my family and the power with which they believed me to be invested, imposed themselves on the satellites of tyranny, and I contrived a suspension of the execution until I had received a reply from the minister to whom I was about to write. What I requested was granted, but on condition of directing the children myself and affirming them in the path that their culpable forefathers had abandoned. I therefore remained the sole spiritual leader in the village. Experience fully assured me too fully of the bounty of my methods for me to think of employing any others. Thus, in order to gain the confidence of my flock and bring them back to the old route on my heels, I followed theirs, at least as far as that which was common to their religion and mine.
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