Chapter CLXXXI: Letter XV: 329 (2)

THE YOUNG MARQUIS DE GRIGNAN.[349]--Your son was last night at the Duke de Chartres’ ball; he was very handsome, and will inform you of his success. You must not, however, calculate upon his studying much; he owned to us yesterday, very sincerely, that he is at present incapable of paying proper attention; his youth hurries him away, and he does not understand what he reads. We grieve that he has not, at least, a taste for reading, and that he wants inclination more than time. His frankness prevented our scolding him; I know not what we did not say to him; I mean the chevalier, myself and Corbinelli, who was rather warm upon the occasion. But we must not fatigue or force him; this taste will come in time, my dear; for it is not possible, that, with so much spirit, good sense, and love for his profession, he should have no desire to be made acquainted with the exploits of the heroes of antiquity, and particularly _Cæsar at the head of his Commentaries_. Have patience, and do not fret: he would be too perfect were he fond of reading.

[349] Grandson of Madame the Sévigné.

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I am also of opinion, that by reading we learn to write; I know some officers of rank, whose style is vulgar; it is, however, a delightful thing to be able to communicate our thoughts; but it also often happens that these people write as they think, and as they speak; every thing is in unison.

PAULINA.[350]--I am pleased with Coulanges’ praise of Paulina; it is well applied, and makes me understand what sort of charms she possesses, curbed however by persons who have not given her the best nose[351] in the world. If the count had given her his fine eyes and fine person, and left the rest to you, Paulina would have set the world on fire; she would have been irresistible; this pretty mixture is a thousand times better, and must certainly form a very pretty personage. Her sprightliness resembles yours; your wit always bore away the palm, as you say of hers; I like this panegyric. She will soon learn Italian, with the assistance of a better mistress than you had. You deserve as excellent a daughter as mine has been. I told you that you might do what you wished with yours, from her disposition to please you; she appears to me worthy of your love.

[350] Paulina de Grignan, born in 1674, and married in 1695, to
the Marquis de Simiane, was noticed at five or six years of age,
for the agreeableness of her wit, as well as the beauty of her
person. Her letters were already looked upon as performances in
which the pleasing and the natural were equally combined. She had
scarcely entered her fourth year, when she would occasionally
utter repartees full of wit and pleasantry. She was not more
than thirteen when she wrote, at Madame de Grignan’s request, a
small piece of devotion which the brightest genius might have
been proud of. It is easy to guess how a person thus favored by
nature must turn out, educated under the eyes of a mother and
grandmother whose good sense seemed as it were transfused into
her. She excelled not only in the epistolary style, but also in
the poetic, though she never wrote but for amusement. The solid
principles of true religion, in which she was brought up, shone
forth in her, amid the bustle of courts and secular affairs; and
never with so much splendor as in the last year of her life,
which she employed wholly in the exercise of the most sublime
virtues of Christianity.

[351] Paulina’s nose resembled her grandmother’s.

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Paulina then is not perfect; I could never have supposed that her chief imperfection would have been ignorance of religion. You must instruct her in this, which you are very capable of doing; it is your duty, and you have good books to assist you: in return, your sister-in-law, the abbess, will teach her the world.

* * * * *

You astonish me by what you say of Paulina; pray, pray, my dear child, keep her with you; think not that a convent can repair the errors of education, whether as to religion, with which the sisterhood are very little acquainted, or as to any thing else. You will do much better at Grignan, when you have time for application. You will make her read good authors; you will converse with her, and M. de la Garde will assist you: I am convinced that this is preferable to a convent.

FAITH IN CHRIST.--So then, you read St. Paul and St. Augustine; two excellent laborers to establish the absolute will of God. They never scruple to assert, that God disposes of his creatures as the potter does of his clay; some he chooses, some he rejects. They are no loss to apologize for his justice, since there is no other justice but his will. It is justice itself, it is the rule of right; and, after all, what does he owe to man? Is he in any way dependent on him? Not at all. He, therefore, does them justice in rejecting them, on account of the stain of original sin, which is communicated to all; and he selects a few, whom he saves by his son Jesus Christ, who himself says, “I know my sheep, and am known of mine: I will lead them forth to the pasture, and not one shall be lost.” “I have chosen you,” saith he in another place to his apostles, “and you have not chosen me.” There are numberless passages of this nature; I meet with them continually, and understand them all; and when I find others that seem to contradict them, I say to myself, This is to be understood figuratively, as when we read that “God was in wrath,” that “God repented him,” and the like: and I always abide by that first and great truth, which represents God to me as he is, the sovereign master, the supreme creator and author of the universe; in a word, as a being infinitely perfect, agreeably to Descartes’ idea. Such are my humble and reverential thoughts, from which, however, I deduce no ridiculous consequences, nor do they deprive me of the hope of being of the number of the elect of God, after the mercies he has bestowed on me, which are so many foundations upon which to ground my confidence.

THE FIRE-EATER.--Yesterday a young man came here from Vitré, whom I knew to have lived formerly as footman with M. Coulanges. M. de Grignan has seen him at Aix. He showed me a printed list of the feats he performed with fire; he has the secret of the man you have heard spoken of at Paris. Among a thousand wonderful things that he did, and which I am astonished the government permits, on account of the consequences, I was struck with one in particular, which is soon done; this was the letting fall from his hand into his mouth ten or twelve drops of flaming sealing-wax, with which he appeared to be no more affected than if it had been so much cold water; he did not make the least grimace, or sign of uneasiness, and his tongue looked as fair and unhurt after the operation as before. I have often heard of these fire-eaters; but I must confess, that to see the thing performed in my own room, and under my very eye, struck me with astonishment.

BOOKS.--We pass our time here very quietly; this you can not doubt; but very swiftly, which will surprise you: work, walking, conversation, reading, all these are called in to our assistance. Speaking of books, you tell me wonders of M. Nicole’s last production; I have read some passages that appeared to me very fine; the author’s style enlightens, as you say, and makes us enter into ourselves, in such a way as discovers the beauty of his mind and the goodness of his heart; for he never scolds out of season, which is the worst thing in the world, and never produces the desired effect. I did not purchase the book at the time, which was in Lent: I contented myself with the good Le Tourneux.[352] We are reading a treatise of the pious man of Port-Royal upon continual prayer, which is a sequel to certain pious works that are very fine; but this, which is much larger, is so spiritual, so luminous, and so holy, that though it be a thousand degrees above our understandings, it does not fail to please and charm us. We are delighted to find that there have been, and still are, people in the world, to whom God has communicated his Holy Spirit and grace in such abundance; but, good heavens! when shall we be possessed of one little spark, of one single degree? How sad it is to find ourselves so far behind here, and so near in other things! fie, fie, let us not name this misfortune! we ought to humble ourselves at it a hundred times a day.

[352] Nicholas de Tourneux, confessor of Port-Royal, so
well-known by his excellent work, entitled “The Christian Year,”
and by a great number of other important works.

LIBERTY OF MIND.--There are certain periods of life in which we attend to nothing but ourselves. You indeed have never been much occupied in that way; but when we came down this river together, we were more engaged in disputing about the Count des Chapelles than in admiring the beauties of the rural scenes that surrounded us. Now, the case is exactly the reverse: we observe a profound silence, are perfectly at our ease, reading, musing, admiring, out of the way of all sorts of news, and living upon our own reflections. The good abbé (her uncle) is always praying: I listen attentively to his pious ejaculations; but when he has got to his beads I beg to be excused, finding that I can meditate much better without them. In short, we manage to pass twelve or fourteen hours without being very unhappy; such a fine thing is liberty.

THE NUNS OF SAINT-MARIE.--My greatest satisfaction is in visiting the nuns of Saint-Marie; they are truly amiable women; they still retain the remembrance of you, of which they do not fail to make a merit with me: they are neither silly nor conceited, like some you know; they do not believe the present Pope[353] to be a heretic; they understand the religion they profess, and will never reject the Holy Scriptures because they have been translated by worthy men; they pay all due honor to the saving grace of Christ; they acknowledge the power of providence; they educate the young girls committed to their care very properly, and neither teach them to lie nor to dissemble; no chimeras, no idolatry is to be found among them. In short, I have a great regard for them. M. de Grignan would think them Jansenists; for my part, I think them Christians: there are two of them who have an infinite deal of wit. I shall go to their house to-morrow to write, and I shall dine with them on Saturday: they are all the comfort I have here.

[353] Innocent XI., who passed for favoring the Jansenists,
merely because he took no steps against them.

MORAL ESSAYS.--Do you not intend to read the Moral Essays, and to give me your opinion of them? For my part, I am charmed with them; and so I am with the funeral oration on M. de Turenne; there are passages in it which must have affected all that were present. I do not doubt but it has been sent you; tell me if you do not think it very fine. Do you not intend to finish Josephus? We read a great deal of serious as well as lighter subjects; fable and history. We are so deeply engaged with these, that we have scarcely leisure for any other employments. They pity us at Paris; they think us confined to a fire-side by the inclemency of the season, and languishing under a dearth of amusement; but, my dear, I walk; I find a thousand diversions; the woods are neither wild nor inhospitable. It is not for passing my time here instead of at Paris that I am to be pitied.

HISTORY OF THE BIBLE.--I am, moreover, reading the emblems of the Holy Scriptures,[354] which begin from Adam. I have begun with the creation of the world, which you are so fond of, and shall end with the death of our Saviour, which you know is an admirable series. We find in it every circumstance, though related concisely; the style is fine; it is done by an eminent hand: the history is interspersed throughout with excellent reflections, taken from the fathers, and is very entertaining. For my own part, I go much further than the Jesuits; and when I see the reproaches of ingratitude, and the dreadful punishments with which God afflicted his people, I can not help concluding, that we, who are freed from the yoke to which they were subjected, are, in consequence, highly culpable, and justly deserve those scourges of fire and water which the Almighty employs when he thinks fit. The Jesuits do not say enough on this subject, and others give cause to murmur against the justice of the Deity, in weakening the supports of our spiritual liberty, as they do. You see what fruit I derive from my reading. I fancy my confessor will enjoin me to read the philosophy of Descartes.

[354] History of the Old and New Testament, by M. de Saci, Sieur
de Royaumont. He composed this book in the Bastille. It is, they
say, filled with allusions to the vicissitudes of Jansenism in
that age, M. de Saci was president of the nuns at Port-Royal.

AFFECTION.--I fancy myself qualified to write a treatise on affection; there are a thousand things depending on it, a thousand things to be shunned, in order to prevent those we love from smarting for it: there are innumerable instances where we give them pain, and in which we might alleviate their feelings, were we to reflect and to turn things in all the points of view we ought, out of regard to the object of our love. In short, I could make it appear in my book, that there are a thousand different ways of proving our regard without talking of it; as well as of saying by actions that we have no real regard, even while the treacherous tongue is making protestations to the contrary. I mean no one in particular, but what I have written, I have written.

SUBMISSION.--I beg you will read the second part of the second treatise in the first volume of _Moral Essays_; I am sure you know it, but you may not perhaps have observed it particularly; it is on the subject of _submission to the will of God_. You will there see how clearly it is demonstrated that Providence governs all things; that is my creed, by that I abide: and though a contrary doctrine may be advanced elsewhere, to keep fair with all sides, I shall consider such conduct only in the light of a political stratagem, and follow the example of those who believe as I do, though they may change their note.

PHILOSOPHY.--You say that I make God the author of every thing that happens; read, read, I say, that part of the treatise I have pointed out to you, and you will find that we are to look to Him for every thing, but with reverence and humility, and consider man only as the executor of his orders, from whose agency he can draw what effects he thinks proper. It is thus we reason, when our eyes are lifted up to heaven, but, in general, we are apt to confine our views to the poor contemptible second causes that strike our bodily senses, and bear with impatience what we ought to receive with submission; and such, alas! is my present wretched situation. I join with you in believing that philosophy is good for little, except to those who do not stand in need of it. You desire me to love you more and more: indeed, you embarrass me; I know not where to find that degree of comparison; it is beyond my conception: but this I am certain of, that I never can, in thought, word, or deed, evince the thousandth part of the affection I bear you; and this is that sometimes distracts me.

OLD AGE.--So then you were struck with an expression of Madame de la Fayette’s (“you are old,”) blended with so much friendship. Though I say to myself that this is a truth which should not be forgotten, I confess I was all astonishment at it; for I yet feel no sort of decay that puts me in mind of it. I can not, however refrain from calculating and reflecting, and I find that the conditions of life are very hard. It seems to me that I have been dragged against my will to the fatal period, when _old age_ must be endured; I see it, I have attained it; and I would, at least, contrive not to go beyond it, not to advance in the road of infirmities, pain, loss of memory, _disfigurements_ which are ready to lay hold of me; and I hear a voice which says, You must go on in spite of yourself; or, if you will not, you must die, an alternative at which nature recoils. Such, however, is the fate of those who have reached a certain period.

* * * * *

I contemplate this evil, which has not yet proved itself so, with heroic courage; I prepare myself for its consequences with peace and tranquillity; and seeing there is no way of escape, and that I am not the strongest, I think of the obligation I owe to God, for conducting me so gently to the grave. I thank him for the desire he daily gives me to prepare for death, and the wish of not draining my life to the dregs. Extreme old age is frightful and humiliating: the good Corbinelli and I see a painful instance of this truth hourly, in the poor Abbé de Coulanges, whose helplessness and infirmities make us wish never to reach this period.

SERMONS.--When I am as good as M. de la Garde, if ever God grants me this grace, I shall like all sermons; in the mean while I content myself with the Gospels as explained by M. le Tourneux; these are real sermons, and nothing but the vanity of man could load modern discourses with their present contents. We sometimes read the Homilies of St. John Chrysostom; these are divine, and please us so highly, that I persist in not going to Rennes till passion week, to avoid being exposed to the eloquence of the preachers who hold forth in behalf of the parliament.

* * * * *

The Marshal de Grammont was so transported the other day, at a sermon of Bourdaloüe’s, that he cried out, in the middle of a passage that struck him, “By ----, he is right.” Madame burst out a-laughing, and the sermon was interrupted so long that nobody knew what would be the consequence. If your preachers are as you represent them, I am apt to think they will be in no great danger of their being interrupted by such praises.

JOSEPHUS.--I am glad you like Josephus, Herod, and Aristobulus. I beg you to go on, and see the end of the siege of Jerusalem, and the fate of Josaphat. Take courage; every thing is beautiful in this historian, every thing is grand, every thing is magnificent, every thing is worthy of you; let not an idle fancy prevail with you to lay him aside. I am in the History of France; that of the Crusades has occasioned my looking into it, but it is not to be compared to a single leaf of Josephus. Alas! with what pleasure we weep over the misfortunes of Aristobulus and Mariamne.

HOPE EVER.--We should never despair of our good fortune. I thought my son’s situation quite hopeless, after so many storms and shipwrecks, without employments, and out of the way of fortune; and while I was indulging these melancholy reflections, Providence destined, or had destined, us to so advantageous a marriage, that I could not have wished for a better alliance, even at the time when my son had the greatest reason to expect it. It is thus we grope in the dark, not knowing our way, taking good for evil, and evil for good, in entire ignorance.

TWILIGHT.--I hate twilight when I have nobody to chat with; and I had rather be alone in the woods, than alone in a room. This is like plunging up to the neck in water to save one’s self from the rain: but any thing rather than an arm-chair.

A PRESENTIMENT.--Good Heavens! my dear child, what fools your women are, both living and dead! your top-knots[355] shock me! What a profanation! it smells of paganism; foh! It would make me shudder at the thoughts of dying in Provence; I would, at least, be assured that the milliner and undertaker were not sent for at the same time. Fie, fie, indeed! but no more of this.[356]

[355] It was the custom in Provence to bury the dead with their
faces uncovered; and the women who wore ribbons as a head-dress,
retained them in their coffins.

[356] This passage might deserve the name of presentiment. All
she feared came to pass. She died in Provence, and the very
head-dress which was so repugnant to her mind, adorned her in her
coffin.

LETTERS ON THE DEATH OF MADAME DE SÉVIGNÉ.