How different was the idea I entertained of it!- The independence Iseemed to possess was the sole object of my contemplation; having obtained my liberty, I thought everything attainable: I entered with confidence on the vast theater of the world, which my merit was to captivate: at every step I expected to find amusements, treasures, and adventures: friends ready to serve, and mistresses eager to please me;I had but to show myself, and the whole universe would be interested in my concerns; not but I could have been content with something less;a charming society, with sufficient means, might have satisfied me.My moderation was such, that the sphere in which I proposed to shine was rather circumscribed, but then it was to possess the very quintessence of enjoyment, and myself the principal object.A single castle, for instance, might have bounded my ambition; could I have been the favorite of the lord and lady, the daughter's lover, the son's friend, and protector of the neighbors, I might have been tolerably content, and sought no further.
In expectation of this modest fortune, I passed a few days in the environs of the city, with some country people of my acquaintance, who received me with more kindness than I should have met with in town;they welcomed, lodged, and fed me cheerfully; I could not be said to live on charity, these favors were not conferred with a sufficient appearance of superiority to furnish out the idea.
I rambled about in this manner till I got to Confignon, in Savoy, at about two leagues distance from Geneva.The vicar was called M.de Pontverre: this name, so famous in the history of the Republic, caught my attention; I was curious to see what appearance the descendants of the gentlemen of the spoon exhibited: I went, therefore, to visit this M.de Pontverre, and was received with great civility.
He spoke of the heresy of Geneva, declaimed on the authority of holy mother church, and then invited me to dinner.I had little to object to arguments which had so desirable a conclusion, and was inclined to believe that priests, who gave such excellent dinners, might be as good as our ministers.Notwithstanding M.de Pontverre's pedigree, I certainly possessed most learning; but I rather sought to be a good companion than an expert theologian; and his Frangi wine, which I thought delicious, argued so powerfully on his side, that Ishould have blushed at silencing so kind a host; I, therefore, yielded him the victory, or rather declined the contest.Any one who had observed my precaution, would certainly have pronounced me a dissembler, though, in fact, I was only courteous.
Flattery, or rather condescension, is not always a vice in young people; 'tis oftener a virtue.When treated with kindness, it is natural to feel an attachment for the person who confers the obligation: we do not acquiesce because we wish to deceive, but from dread of giving uneasiness, or because we wish to avoid the ingratitude of rendering evil for good.What interest had M.de Pontverre in entertaining, treating with respect, and endeavoring to convince me? None but mine; my young heart told me this, and I was penetrated with gratitude and respect for the generous priest; I was sensible of my superiority, but scorned to repay his hospitality by taking advantage of it.I had no conception of hypocrisy in this forbearance, or thought of changing my religion, nay, so far was the idea from being familiar to me, that I looked on it with a degree of horror which seemed to exclude the possibility of such an event; Ionly wished to avoid giving offense to those I was sensible caressed me from that motive; I wished to cultivate their good opinion, and meantime leave them the hope of success by seeming less on my guard than I really was.My conduct in this particular resembled the coquetry of some very honest women, who, to obtain their wishes, without permitting or promising anything, sometimes encourage hopes they never mean to realize.
Reason, piety, and love of order, certainly demanded that instead of being encouraged in my folly, I should have been dissuaded from the ruin I was courting, and sent back to my family; and this conduct any one that was actuated by genuine virtue would have pursued; but it should be observed that though M.de Pontverre was a religious man, he was not a virtuous one, but a bigot, who knew no virtue except worshiping images and telling his beads; in a word, a kind of missionary, who thought the height of merit consisted in writing libels against the ministers of Geneva.Far from wishing to send me back, he endeavored to favor my escape, and put it out of my power to return even had I been so disposed.It was a thousand to one but he was sending me to perish with hunger, or become a villain; but all this was foreign to his purpose; he saw a soul snatched from heresy, and restored to the bosom of the church: whether I was an honest man or a knave was very immaterial, provided I went to mass.
This ridiculous mode of thinking is not peculiar to Catholics, it is the voice of every dogmatical persuasion where merit consists in belief, and not in virtue.
