Chapter XXIV

Postscript.

While this work was being written, with the sole aim of making people more compassionate and gentle, another man was writing with precisely the opposite aim; for everyone has his opinion. This man was having a little code of persecution printed, entitled l'Accord de la Religion & de l'Humanité. (That is a printer’s error: read de l'Inhumanité.)

The author of this holy libel relies on St. Augustine, who, after preaching gentleness, ended by preaching persecution, since he was then the stronger party and often changed his mind. He also cites Bossuet, bishop of Meaux, who persecuted the celebrated Fénelon, archbishop of Cambrai, guilty of having published the claim that God was well worth loving for his own sake.

Bossuet was eloquent, I admit; the bishop of Hippo, though sometimes inconsistent, was more articulate than other Africans, I admit that too. But I would take the liberty of saying to them, with Armande in Femmes savantes:

When you choose someone as your guide,Resemble them upon their better side.

I would say to the bishop of Hippo, “My lord, you changed your mind; allow me to hold to your first opinion. In truth, I think it the better one.”

I would say to the bishop of Meaux, “My lord, you are a great man. I find you at least as learned as St. Augustine, and far more eloquent. But why so torment your fellow bishop, who was as eloquent as you in another way, and more lovable?”

The author of the holy libel on inhumanity is neither a Bossuet nor an Augustine. He seems to me eminently suited to make an excellent inquisitor; I wish he were in Goa at the head of that fine tribunal. He is a statesman too, and parades great political principles. “If there are many heterodox people among you,” he says, “handle them carefully and persuade them; if there are only a few, employ the gallows and the galleys, and you will find it most beneficial.” That is his advice on pages 89 and 90.

Thank God, I am a good Catholic; I have nothing to fear from what the Huguenots call martyrdom. But if this man ever becomes prime minister, as he seems to flatter himself he will in his libel, I warn him that I shall leave for England the day he receives his letters patent.

Meanwhile, I can only thank Providence for allowing people of his sort always to reason badly. He goes so far as to cite Bayle among the supporters of intolerance: how sensible and clever! Because Bayle allows that seditious people and scoundrels must be punished, our man concludes that peaceable people of good faith must be persecuted with fire and sword, page 98.

Almost his entire book is an imitation of the Apology for the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre. He is either that apologist or his echo. In either case, let us hope that neither master nor disciple will govern the state.

But should they become its masters, I submit this petition to them from a distance, concerning two lines on page 93 of the holy libel:

“Must the happiness of the entire nation be sacrificed to the happiness of one twentieth of the nation?”

Suppose that there really are twenty Roman Catholics in France for every Huguenot. I do not propose that the Huguenot should eat the twenty Catholics; but why should those twenty Catholics eat that Huguenot? And why prevent the Huguenot from marrying? Are there not bishops, abbots, and monks who own lands in Dauphiné, in Gévaudan, around Agde and Carcassonne? Do these bishops, abbots, and monks not have tenant farmers who have the misfortune not to believe in transubstantiation? Is it not in the interest of the bishops, abbots, monks, and public that these farmers should have large families? Will only those who take communion in one kind be allowed to have children? In truth, that is neither just nor decent.

“The revocation of the Edict of Nantes did not cause as much harm as is attributed to it,” the author says.

If more harm is indeed attributed to it than it caused, that is exaggeration; and exaggeration is the fault of almost all historians. But reducing the evil of which they are accused to nothing is also the fault of all religious controversialists. Let us believe neither the doctors of Paris nor the preachers of Amsterdam.

Let us take as judge the Count d’Avaux, ambassador to Holland from 1685 to 1688. He says, page 181, tom. 5, that a single man had offered to uncover more than twenty million that the persecuted were taking out of France. Louis XIV replies to Monsieur d’Avaux: “The reports I receive every day of an infinite number of conversions no longer leave me in doubt that the most obstinate will follow the others’ example.”

This letter of Louis XIV shows that he was entirely sincere in his belief in the extent of his power. Every morning he was told, “Sire, you are the greatest king in the universe; the whole universe will take pride in thinking as you do, as soon as you have spoken.” Pélisson, who had grown rich as chief clerk of finance; Pélisson, who had spent three years in the Bastille as Fouquet’s accomplice; Pélisson, who from a Calvinist had become a deacon and holder of a benefice, who had prayers for Mass and bouquets of verse to Iris printed, who had obtained the office administering the revenues of vacant benefices and that of converter—Pélisson, I say, brought a long list of abjurations every three months, at seven or eight écus apiece, and made his king believe that whenever he wished he could convert all the Turks at the same price. People took turns deceiving him: could he resist the seduction?

Yet the same Monsieur d’Avaux informs the king that a man named Vincent employs more than five hundred workers near Angoulême, and that his departure will cause harm, page 194, tom. 5.

The same Monsieur d’Avaux mentions two regiments that the Prince of Orange is already having raised by French refugee officers; he mentions sailors who deserted three ships to serve aboard the Prince of Orange’s vessels. Besides these two regiments, the Prince of Orange is also forming a company of refugee cadets commanded by two captains, page 240. On May 9, 1686, this ambassador further writes to Monsieur de Seignelay that “he cannot conceal from him the distress he feels at seeing France’s manufacturing industries established in Holland, which they will never leave.”

Add to all this testimony that of every intendant of the kingdom in 1698, and judge whether the revocation of the Edict of Nantes did not do more harm than good, despite the opinion of the respectable author of l'Accord de la Religion & de l'inhumanité.

A marshal of France, known for his superior intelligence, said a few years ago, “I do not know whether the dragonnades were necessary, but it is necessary never to repeat them.”

I admit that I thought I had gone a little too far when I published the letter from Father Le Tellier’s correspondent, in which that member of a religious congregation proposes barrels of gunpowder. I said to myself, “People will not believe me; they will regard this letter as a forgery.” Happily, my scruples were dispelled when I read these gentle words on page 149 of l'Accord de la Religion & de l'Inhumanité:

“The complete extinction of the Protestants in France would no more weaken France than bloodletting weakens a patient of sound constitution.”

This compassionate Christian, who said just now that Protestants make up one twentieth of the nation, therefore wishes the blood of that twentieth part to be spilled, and regards this operation as no more than letting a small basin of blood! God preserve us from his three-twentieths levy!

If this worthy man proposes killing one twentieth of the nation, why should Father Le Tellier’s friend not have proposed blowing up, slaughtering, and poisoning one third? It is therefore very likely that the letter to Father Le Tellier was actually written.

The holy author finally concludes that intolerance is an excellent thing, because, he says, it was not expressly condemned by Jesus Christ. But Jesus Christ did not condemn those who would set fire to the four corners of Paris either. Is that a reason to canonize arsonists?

Thus, while nature makes her gentle, beneficent voice heard on one side, fanaticism, nature’s enemy, shrieks its howls; and when peace presents itself to humanity, intolerance forges its weapons. O arbiters of nations, who have given peace to Europe, judge between the spirit of peace and the spirit of murder.

Postscript.

While this work was being written with the sole aim of making people more compassionate and gentle, another man was writing with exactly the opposite aim. Everyone has an opinion. This man was publishing a short code of persecution entitled l'Accord de la Religion & de l'Humanité. That is a printer's error: read de l'Inhumanité.

The author of this holy pamphlet relies on St. Augustine, who, after preaching gentleness, finally preached persecution, since he was then on the stronger side and often changed his mind. He also cites Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, who persecuted the famous Fénelon, Archbishop of Cambrai, guilty of having published the idea that God is well worth loving for his own sake.

Bossuet was eloquent, I admit. The Bishop of Hippo, sometimes inconsistent, was more fluent than other Africans; I admit that too. But I would take the liberty of saying to them, with Armande in Femmes savantes:

When you choose someone as your guide,You should copy their better side.

I would say to the Bishop of Hippo, "My lord, you changed your mind. Allow me to keep to your first opinion. In truth, I think it is the better one."

I would say to the Bishop of Meaux, "My lord, you are a great man. I find you at least as learned as St. Augustine and much more eloquent. But why torment your fellow bishop so much? He was as eloquent as you, in another style, and more lovable."

The author of the holy pamphlet on inhumanity is neither a Bossuet nor an Augustine. He seems perfectly suited to be an excellent inquisitor. I wish he were in Goa at the head of that fine tribunal. He is also a statesman and displays great political principles. "If you have," he says, "many people of unorthodox beliefs among you, treat them gently and persuade them. If there are only a few, put the gallows and the galleys to use, and you will do very well out of it." That is what he advises on pages 89 and 90.

Thank God, I am a good Catholic. I have no reason to fear what the Huguenots call martyrdom. But if this man ever becomes prime minister, as his pamphlet suggests he hopes to do, I warn him that I will leave for England on the day he receives his letters patent.

Meanwhile I can only thank Providence for allowing people of his sort always to reason badly. He goes so far as to cite Bayle among the supporters of intolerance. How sensible and skillful! Because Bayle agrees that people stirring up rebellion and crooks must be punished, our man concludes that peaceful people acting in good faith must be persecuted with fire and sword, page 98.

Almost his whole book imitates the defense of the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre. Either he is that apologist or he echoes him. In either case, we must hope that neither master nor pupil will govern the state.

But if they do become its masters, I submit this petition to them from a distance, concerning two lines on page 93 of the holy pamphlet:

"Must the happiness of the whole nation be sacrificed to the happiness of one-twentieth of it?"

Suppose there really are twenty Roman Catholics in France for every Huguenot. I am not suggesting that the Huguenot should eat the twenty Catholics. But why should those twenty Catholics eat the Huguenot? And why stop this Huguenot from marrying? Are there not bishops, abbots, and monks who own land in Dauphiné, in Gévaudan, near Agde, and near Carcassonne? Do these bishops, abbots, and monks not have tenant farmers unfortunate enough not to believe in transubstantiation? Is it not in the interest of the bishops, abbots, monks, and the public that these farmers have large families? Will only those who receive communion in one form be allowed to have children? Really, that is neither just nor decent.

"The revocation of the Edict of Nantes did not produce as many harmful effects as people attribute to it," says the author.

If people do attribute more to it than it produced, they are exaggerating. Exaggeration is the fault of almost all historians. But reducing the harm they are accused of to nothing is also the fault of all religious controversialists. Let us believe neither the doctors of Paris nor the Protestant preachers of Amsterdam.

Let us take as our judge the Count d'Avaux, ambassador to Holland from 1685 to 1688. He says, page 181, tom. 5, that one man alone had offered to uncover more than twenty million that the persecuted were taking out of France. Louis XIV answered d'Avaux: "The reports I receive every day of countless conversions leave me in no doubt that the most stubborn will follow the example of the others."

This letter from Louis XIV shows that he sincerely believed in the extent of his power. Every morning he was told, "Sire, you are the greatest king in the universe. The whole universe will be proud to think as you do, as soon as you speak." Pélisson, who had grown rich as chief financial clerk; Pélisson, who had spent three years in the Bastille as Fouquet's accomplice; Pélisson, who had gone from Calvinist to deacon and holder of a benefice, who published prayers for Mass and bouquets of verse for Iris, who had obtained the administration of vacant benefices and the post of converter—Pélisson, I say, brought in a long list of renunciations of Protestantism every three months, at seven or eight crowns each. He made his king believe that whenever he wished, he could convert all the Turks at the same price. They took turns deceiving him. Could he resist their persuasion?

Yet the same d'Avaux informed the king that a man named Vincent employed more than five hundred workers near Angoulême and that his departure would cause harm, page 194, tom. 5.

The same d'Avaux mentions two regiments that the Prince of Orange was already having recruited by refugee French officers. He mentions sailors who deserted three ships to serve aboard those of the Prince of Orange. Besides these two regiments, the Prince of Orange was also forming a company of refugee cadets commanded by two captains, page 240. On May 9, 1686, this ambassador also wrote to de Seignelay that he could not hide his distress at seeing French industries establish themselves in Holland, which they would never leave.

Add to all this testimony that of all the kingdom's intendants in 1698, and judge whether the revocation of the Edict of Nantes did not produce more harm than good, despite the opinion of the respectable author of l'Accord de la Religion & de l'inhumanité.

A marshal of France, known for his exceptional intelligence, said a few years ago, "I do not know whether using dragoons to force conversions was necessary, but it is necessary never to do it again."

I admit that I thought I had gone a little too far in publishing the letter from Father Le Tellier's correspondent, in which this member of the congregation proposes barrels of gunpowder. I said to myself, "People will not believe me. They will think this letter is a forgery." Fortunately, my doubts disappeared when I read these gentle words in l'Accord de la Religion & de l'Inhumanité, page 149:

"The total extinction of Protestants in France would weaken France no more than bloodletting weakens a patient with a strong constitution."

So this compassionate Christian, who has just said that Protestants make up one-twentieth of the nation, wants the blood of that twentieth spilled. He sees this operation as no more than drawing a small bowl of blood! With him around, may God preserve us from the three twentieths!

If this decent man proposes killing one-twentieth of the nation, why should Father Le Tellier's friend not have proposed blowing up, cutting the throats of, and poisoning a third? It is therefore very likely that the letter to Father Le Tellier really was written.

The holy author finally concludes that intolerance is an excellent thing "because it was not," he says, "expressly condemned by Jesus Christ." But Jesus Christ did not condemn people who would set fire to all four corners of Paris either. Is that a reason to canonize arsonists?

So, while nature speaks in its gentle and kindly voice on one side, fanaticism, nature's enemy, howls on the other. While peace presents itself to humanity, intolerance forges its weapons. You who decide the fate of nations, who have given peace to Europe, decide between the peaceful spirit and the murderous one.