|
To Madame de Tesse Nismes, March 20, 1787
Here I am, Madam, gazing whole hours at the Maison quarree,
like a lover at his mistress. The stocking weavers and silk spinners
around it, consider me as a hypochondriac Englishman, about to write
with a pistol, the last chapter of his history. This is the second
time I have been in love since I left Paris. The first was with a
Diana at the Chateau de Laye-Epinaye in Beaujolois, a delicious
morsel of sculpture, by M. A. Slodtz. This, you will say, was a
rule, to fall in love with a female beauty: but with a house! It is
out of all precedent. No, Madam, it is not without a precedent, in
my own history. While in Paris, I was violently smitten with the
Hotel de Salm, and used to go to the Thuileries almost daily, to look
at it. The loueuse des chaises, inattentive to my passion, never
had the complaisance to place a chair there, so that sitting on the
parapet, and twisting my neck round to see the object of my
admiration, I generally left it with a torti-colli.
From Lyons to Nismes I have been nourished with the remains of
Roman grandeur. They have always brought you to my mind, because I
know your affection for whatever is Roman and noble. At Vienne I
thought of you. But I am glad you were not there; for you would have
seen me more angry than, I hope, you will ever see me. The
Praetorian palace, as it is called, comparable, for its fine
proportions, to the Maison quarree, defaced by the barbarians who
have converted it to its present purpose, its beautiful fluted
Corinthian columns cut out, in part, to make space for Gothic
windows, and hewed down, in the residue, to the plane of the
building, was enough, you must admit, to disturb my composure. At
Orange too, I thought of you. I was sure you had seen with pleasure,
the sublime triumphal arch of Marius at the entrance of the city. I
went then to the Arenae. Would you believe, Madam, that in this
eighteenth century, in France, under the reign of Louis XVI. they are
at this momont pulling down the circular wall of this superb remain,
to pave a road? And that too from a hill which is itself an entire
mass of stone, just as fit, and more accessible? A former intendant,
a M. de Basville has rendered his memory dear to the traveller and
amateur, by the pains he took to preserve and restore these monuments
of antiquity. The present one (I do not know who he is) is
demolishing the object, to make a good road to it. I thought of you
again, and I was then in great good humor, at the Pont du Gard, a
sublime antiquity, and well preserved. But most of all here, where
Roman taste, genius and magnificence, excite ideas analogous to yours
at every step. I could no longer oppose the inclination to avail
myself of your permission to write to you, a permission given with
too much complaisance by you, and used by me, with too much
indiscretion. Madame de Tott did me the same honor. But she, being
only the descendant of some of those puny heroes who boiled their own
kettles before the walls of Troy, I shall write to her from a
Grecian, rather than a Roman canton: when I shall find myself, for
example among her Phocaean relations at Marseilles.
Loving, as you do madam, the precious remains of antiquity,
loving architecture, gardening, a warm sun and a clear sky, I wonder
you have never thought of moving Chaville to Nismes. This, as you
know, has not always been deemed impracticable; and therefore, the
next time a Sur-intendant des batiments du roi, after the example
of M. Colbert, sends persons to Nismes to move the Maison quarree to
Paris, that they may not come empty handed, desire them to bring
Chaville with them, to replace it. A propos of Paris. I have now
been three weeks from there, without knowing any thing of what has
passed. I suppose I shall meet it all at Aix, where I have directed
my letters to be lodged, poste restante. My journey has given me
leisure to reflect on this Assemblee des Notables. Under a good and
a young King, as the present, I think good may be made of it. I
would have the deputies then, by all means, so conduct themselves as
to encourage him to repeat the calls of this Assembly. Their first
step should be, to get themselves divided into two chambers instead
of seven; the Noblesse and the Commons separately. The second, to
persuade the King, instead of choosing the deputies of the Commons
himself, to summon those chosen by the people for the Provincial
administrations. The third, as the Noblesse is too numerous to be
all of the Assemblee, to obtain permission for that body to choose
its own deputies. Two Houses, so elected, would contain a mass of
wisdom which would make the people happy, and the King great; would
place him in history where no other act can possibly place him. They
would thus put themselves in the track of the best guide they can
follow, they would soon overtake it, become its guide in turn, and
lead to the wholesome modifications wanting in that model, and
necessary to constitute a rational government. Should they attempt
more than the established habits of the people are ripe for, they may
lose all, and retard indefinitely the ultimate object of their aim.
These, Madam, are my opinions; but I wish to know yours, which, I am
sure, will be better.
From a correspondent at Nismes, you will not expect news. Were
I to attempt to give you news, I should tell you stories one thousand
years old. I should detail to you the intrigues of the courts of the
Caesars, how they affect us here, the oppressions of their praetors,
prefects, &c. I am immersed in antiquities from morning to night.
For me, the city of Rome is actually existing in all the splendor of
its empire. I am filled with alarms for the event of the irruptions
daily making on us, by the Goths, the Visigoths, Ostrogoths, and
Vandals, lest they should re-conquer us to our original barbarism.
If I am sometimes induced to look forward to the eighteenth century,
it is only when recalled to it by the recollection of your goodness
and friendship, and by those sentiments of sincere esteem and
respect, with which I have the honor to be, Madam, your most obedient and most humble servant,
|