"P. S. My enemies say everywhere that I am not a Christian. Ihave just given them the lie direct, by performing my Easter devotions (<mes paques>) publicly; thus proving to all my lively desire to terminate my long career in the religion in which I was born; and I have fulfilled this important act after a dozen consecutive attacks of fever, which made me fear I should die before I could assure you of my respect and my devotion."This apology gave me real pleasure. I pretended to believe the sincerity of him who addressed me, altho' he had not convinced me of his innocence; and I wrote the following reply to M. de Voltaire, which a silly pride dictates to me to communicate to you, in conjunction with the letter of the philosopher:
"MONSIEUR:--Even were you culpable from too much friendship towards those you cherish, I would pardon you as a recompense for the letter you address to me. This ought the more to charm me, as it gives me the certainty that you had been unworthily calumniated.
Could you have said, under the veil of secrecy, things disagreeable to a great king, for whom, in common with all France, you profess sincere love? It is impossible. Could you, with gaiety of heart, wound a female who never did you harm, and who admires your splendid genius? In fact, could those you call your friends have stooped so low as not to have feared to compromise you, by making you play a part unworthy of your elevated reputation? All these suppositions were unreasonable: I could not for a moment admit them, and your two letters have entirely justified you. I can now give myself up without regret to my enthusiasm for you and your works.
It would have been too cruel for me to have learnt with certainty that he whom I regarded as the first writer of the age had become my detractor without motive, without provocation. That it is not so I give thanks to Providence.
"M. the duc d'Aiguillon did not deceive you when he told you that I fed on your sublime poetry. I am in literature a perfect novice, and yet am sensible of the true beauties which abound in your works. I am to be included amongst the stones which were animated by Amphion: this is one of your triumphs; but to this you must be accustomed.
"Believe also that all your friends are not in the enemy's camp.
There are those about me who love you sincerely, M. de Chauvelin, for instance, MM. de Richelieu and d'Aiguillon: this latter eulogizes you incessantly; and if all the world thought as he does, you would be here in your place. But there are terrible prejudices which my candor will not allow me to dissemble, which you have to overcome.
There is <one> who complains of you, and this one must be won over to your interests. He wishes you to testify more veneration for what he venerates himself; that your attacks should not be so vehement nor so constant. Is it then impossible for you to comply his wishes in this particular? Be sure that you only, in setting no bounds in your attacks on religion, do yourself a vast mischief with the person in question.
"It will appear strange that I should hold such language to you:
I only do it to serve you: do not take my statements unkindly. Ihave now a favor to ask of you; which is, to include me in the list of those to whom you send the first fruits of the brilliant productions of your pen. There is none who is more devoted to you, and who has a more ardent desire to convince you of this.
"I am, <monsieur le gentilhomme ordinaire>, with real attachment, etc."I showed this letter to M. de Richelieu.
"Why," he inquired, 'have you not assured him as to your indiscretion, which he fears?""Because his fear seemed to me unjust, and I leave you to represent me to him as I am; and now," I added, "it does not appear to me necessary for the king to know anything of this.""You think wisely, madame; what most displeased him was to see madame de Pompadour in regular correspondence with M. de Voltaire."I have related to you this episode of my history, that it may recompense you for the tiresome details of my presentation. Iresume my recital. I told you that M. de Maupeou had told me that he would endeavor to bring madame la marechale de Mirepoix, and introduce her to me, trusting to the friendship she had evinced for madame de Pompadour during, the whole time of the favor and life of her who preceded me in the affections of Louis XV. Ifound, to my surprise, that he said nothing to me concerning it for several days, when suddenly madame la marechale de Mirepoix was announced.
At this name and this title I rose quite in a fluster, without clearly knowing what could be the object of this visit, for which I was unprepared. The marechale, who followed closely on the valet's heels, did not give me time for much reflection. She took me really <a l'improviste>, and I had not time to go and meet her.
"Madame la marechale," said I, accosting her, "what lucky chance brings you to a place where the desire to have your society is so great?""It is the feeling of real sympathy," she replied, with a gracious smile; "for I also have longed for a considerable time to visit you, and have yielded to my wishes as soon as I was certain that my advances would not be repulsed.""Ah, madame.," said I, "had you seriously any such fear? That tells me much less of the mistrust you had of yourself than of the bad opinion you had conceived of me. The honor of your visits--""The honor of my visits! That's admirable! I wish to obtain a portion of your friendship, and to testify to the king that I am sincerely attached to him.""You overwhelm me, madame," cried I, much delighted, "and I beg you to give me your confidence.""Well, now, all is arranged between us: I suit you and you please me. It is long since I was desirous of coming to you, but we are all under the yoke of the must absurd tyranny: soon we shall haveno permission to go, to come, to speak, to hold our tongues, without first obtaining the consent of a certain family. This yoke has wearied me; and on the first word of the chancellor of France Ihastened to you."
