Voltaire · Complete work
Letter XX
Letter XX of 24. Read it here for reference, or continue through the entire work without leaving the reader.
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sur les seigneurs qui cultivent les lettres.
Il a été un temps en France où les Beaux-Arts étaient cultivés par les premiers de l’État. Les courtisans surtout s’en mêlaient, malgré la dissipation, le goût des riens, la passion pour l’intrigue, toutes divinités du pays.
Il me paraît qu’on est actuellement à la cour dans tout un autre goût que celui des lettres; peut-être dans peu de temps la mode de penser reviendra-t-elle: un roi n’a qu’à vouloir; on fait de cette nation-ci tout ce qu’on veut. En Angleterre communément on pense, et les lettres y sont plus en honneur qu’en France. Cet avantage est une suite nécessaire de la forme de leur gouvernement. Il y a à Londres environ huit cents personnes qui ont le droit de parler en public et de soutenir les intérêts de la nation. Environ cinq ou six mille prétendent au même honneur à leur tour. Tout le reste s’érige en juge de tous ceux-ci, et chacun peut faire imprimer ce qu’il pense sur les affaires publiques: ainsi, toute la nation est dans la nécessité de s’instruire. On n’entend parler que des gouvernements d’Athènes et de Rome; il faut bien, malgré qu’on en ait, lire les auteurs qui en ont traité. Cette étude conduit naturellement aux belles-lettres. En général, les hommes ont l’esprit de leur état. Pourquoi d’ordinaire nos magistrats, nos avocats, nos médecins et beaucoup d’ecclésiastiques ont-ils plus de lettres, de goût et d’esprit que l’on n’en trouve dans toutes les autres professions? C’est que réellement leur état est d’avoir l’esprit cultivé, comme celui d’un marchand est de connaître son négoce. Il n’y a pas longtemps qu’un seigneur anglais fort jeune me vint voir à Paris en revenant d’Italie. Il avait fait en vers une description de ce pays-là, aussi poliment écrite que tout ce qu’ont fait le comte de Rochester et nos Chaulieu, nos Sarrasin et nos Chapelle.
La traduction que j’en ai faite est si loin d’atteindre à la force et à la bonne plaisanterie de l’original que je suis obligé d’en demander sérieusement pardon à l’auteur et à ceux qui entendent l’anglais. Cependant, comme je n’ai pas d’autre moyen de faire connaître les vers de milord Harvey, les voici dans ma langue:
Qu’ai-je donc vu dans l’Italie?
Orgueil, astuce et pauvreté,
Grands compliments, peu de bonté,
Et beaucoup de cérémonie,
L’extravagante comédie
Que souvent l’Inquisition
Veut qu’on nomme religion,
Mais qu’ici nous nommons folie.
La nature, en vain bienfaisante,
Veut enrichir ces lieux charmants;
Des Prêtres la main désolante
Étouffe ses plus beaux présents.
Les Monsignors, soi-disant grands,
Seuls dans leurs palais magnifiques,
Y sont d’illustres fainéants,
Sans argent et sans domestiques.
Pour les petits, sans liberté,
Martyrs du joug qui les domine,
Ils ont fait vœu de pauvreté,
Priant Dieu par oisiveté,
Et toujours jeûnant par famine.
Ces beaux lieux, du pape bénis,
Semblent habités par les diables,
Et les habitants misérables
Sont damnés dans le paradis.
Je ne suis pas de l’avis de milord Harvey. Il y a des pays en Italie qui sont très-malheureux, parce que des étrangers s’y battent depuis longtemps à qui les gouvernera; mais il y en a d’autres où l’on n'est ni si gueux ni si sot qu’il dit.
Musean translation
Mouseia’s complete machine-assisted Musean translation, made directly from the French text of all twenty-four letters (Garnier edition, 1879, French Wikisource) for fidelity, the author’s force and cadence, and modern clarity.
On Noblemen Who Cultivate Letters
There was a time in France when the fine arts were cultivated by the foremost men of the state. Courtiers in particular took part, despite their dissipation, their taste for trifles, and their passion for intrigue—all deities of that country.
It seems to me that at present the court has tastes quite different from a taste for letters; perhaps before long the fashion of thinking will return. A king has only to wish it: one can make this nation into anything one likes. In England people commonly think, and letters are held in greater honor there than in France. This advantage is a necessary consequence of their form of government. In London there are about eight hundred people who have the right to speak in public and defend the interests of the nation. About five or six thousand aspire to the same honor in their turn. All the rest set themselves up as judges of these men, and anyone may publish what he thinks on public affairs: thus the whole nation is obliged to educate itself. One hears nothing but talk of the governments of Athens and Rome; however unwilling one may be, one must read the authors who have written about them. This study leads naturally to literature. In general, men's minds reflect their occupations. Why do our magistrates, our lawyers, our doctors, and many of our clergy generally have more learning, taste, and intelligence than are found in all the other professions? Because cultivating the mind is truly part of their calling, just as knowing his business is part of a merchant's. Not long ago a very young English nobleman came to see me in Paris on his return from Italy. He had composed a description of that country in verse, written as elegantly as anything by the Earl of Rochester or our own Chaulieu, Sarrasin, and Chapelle.
My translation falls so far short of the original's force and fine wit that I must sincerely beg the author's pardon, and that of those who understand English. Still, since I have no other way of making Lord Harvey's verses known, here they are in my language:
What, then, did I see in Italy?
Pride, cunning, and poverty,
Lavish compliments, little kindness,
And a great deal of ceremony;
That extravagant comedy
Which the Inquisition often wants
To have called religion,
But which we here call madness.
Nature, generous in vain,
Would enrich these lovely places;
The desolating hand of priests
Stifles her fairest gifts.
The monsignors, great men in name alone,
Alone in their magnificent palaces,
Are idle grandees there,
Without money or servants.
As for the common people, deprived of freedom,
Martyrs to the yoke that rules them,
They have taken a vow of poverty,
Praying to God out of idleness,
And always fasting from hunger.
These lovely places, blessed by the pope,
Seem to be inhabited by devils,
And their wretched inhabitants
Are damned in paradise.
I do not share Lord Harvey's opinion. There are regions of Italy that are very unhappy because foreigners have long been fighting there over who will govern them; but there are others where people are neither as destitute nor as foolish as he says.
Plain English translation
Mouseia’s complete Plain English edition, made independently and directly from the French text of all twenty-four letters (Garnier edition, 1879, French Wikisource).
On Noblemen Who Cultivate Literature
There was a time in France when the leading people of the state cultivated the fine arts. Courtiers especially took part, despite the distractions, the taste for trivial things, and the passion for intrigue—all the gods of that country.
It seems to me that the court now has a taste for everything except literature. Perhaps it will soon become fashionable to think again. A king only has to want it: he can make this nation do whatever he wishes. In England, people generally think, and literature is held in higher regard than in France. This advantage follows directly from the form of their government. In London, about eight hundred people have the right to speak in public and defend the nation's interests. Around five or six thousand hope to have the same honor in their turn. Everyone else sets themselves up as judges of these people, and anyone can print their thoughts on public affairs. The whole nation therefore has to become informed. People talk constantly of the governments of Athens and Rome. However unwillingly, one has to read the authors who wrote about them. Such reading naturally leads to literature. In general, people's minds are shaped by their work. Why do our judges, lawyers, doctors, and many clergymen usually have more learning, taste, and intelligence than people in all other professions? Because cultivating the mind is truly part of their work, just as knowing his business is part of a merchant's work. Not long ago, a very young English lord visited me in Paris on his way back from Italy. He had written a description of that country in verse, as finely written as anything by the Earl of Rochester or our own Chaulieu, Sarrasin, and Chapelle.
My translation is so far from matching the original's force and good humor that I must sincerely apologize to the author and to those who know English. Still, I have no other way to introduce Lord Harvey's verses, so here they are in my language:
What did I see, then, in Italy?
Pride, cunning, and poverty,
Grand compliments, little kindness,
And a great deal of ceremony;
The outrageous comedy
That the Inquisition often demands
We call religion,
But that here we call madness.
Nature generously tries in vain
To enrich these lovely places;
The priests' destructive hands
Crush her finest gifts.
The monsignors, who call themselves great,
Alone in their splendid palaces,
Are celebrated idlers there,
Without money or servants.
As for ordinary people, without freedom,
Suffering under the yoke that rules them,
They have taken a vow of poverty,
Praying to God because they have nothing to do,
And always fasting because they are starving.
These lovely lands, blessed by the pope,
Seem to be home to devils,
And their miserable inhabitants
Are damned in paradise.
I do not agree with Lord Harvey. Some places in Italy are very unfortunate because foreigners have long been fighting over who will govern them. But in others, people are neither as poor nor as foolish as he says.