The king forgot La Vallière as completely as if he had never seen her
or known her in his life. She had as many virtues as the Montespan had
vices. The sole weakness that she had for the king was very excusable.
The king was young, gallant, and handsome; she herself very young; all
the world led her and drove her to her fault. At bottom she was modest
and virtuous, with a most kind heart. I told her sometimes that she
had transposed her love and carried to God just that which she had
for the king. They did her the utmost injustice in accusing her of
loving any one but the king--but lies cost the Montespan nothing. It
was at her instigation that the king so ill-treated La Vallière. The
poor creature's heart was pierced; but she fancied she was offering
the greatest sacrifice to God in immolating to him the source of her
sin on the very spot where the sin was committed. Therefore, she
stayed on, as penance, with the Montespan. The latter, who had more
cleverness, laughed at her publicly, treated her ill, and made the
king do likewise. Yet she bore it with patience.
Her glance had a charm that can never be described; she had a graceful
figure, but her teeth were vile; her eyes seemed to me much more
beautiful than those of Mme. de Montespan; her whole bearing was
modesty itself. She limped slightly, but it was not unbecoming. When
the king made her a duchess and legitimatized her children she was in
despair, for she thought till then that no one knew she had them. When
I came to France she had not yet retired to a convent; in fact, she
remained two years longer at Court. We became intimately acquainted
at the time she took the veil. I was greatly touched to see that
charming creature persist in her resolution, and when they put her
beneath the pall I wept so bitterly I could not see the rest. When
the ceremony was over she came to me to comfort me, and told me that I
ought to congratulate her and not pity her because she was beginning,
from that instant, to be happy; she said she should never in her
life forget the favour and friendship I had shown to her, which she
had never deserved to receive from me. Shortly after, I went to see
her again; I was curious to know why she had remained so long as a
servant to the Montespan. God, she told me, had touched her heart, and
had given her to know her sin; she then thought that she ought to do
penance and suffer in the way most painful to her,--that of sharing
the king's heart with another, and seeing him despise her. During the
three years that the king's love was ceasing she had suffered like
a lost soul, and had offered to God her sorrow in expiation of her
past sin, because, having sinned publicly, she thought her repentance
should be public also. They had taken her, she said, for a silly fool
who noticed nothing, and it was precisely then that she suffered most,
until God put into her mind to leave all and serve Him only, which
she had now done, although on account of her vices she was not worthy
to live among the pure and pious souls of the other Carmelites. I saw
that what she said came from the depths of her spirit.
You tell me that you are never fatigued listening to your two
preachers. I must confess to my shame that I know nothing more
wearisome than a sermon; opium could not make me sleep more soundly. I
cannot go to church in the afternoon, for I fall asleep at once; and
as I am not in a pew here, but facing the pulpit in an armchair where
everybody sees me, it would be a real scandal. Besides, since I have
grown old, I snore very loud, which would make people laugh, and the
preacher himself might be disconcerted.
I have three fine Bibles: that of Mérian, which my aunt, the Abbess
of Maubuisson, bequeathed to me; an edition of Luneburg which is very
fine, and another sent to me last year by the Princess of Oldenbourg.
The latter is like me, short and thick, and neither the print nor the
engravings are as good as in the two others. When I came to France
every one was forbidden to read the Bible; for the last few years it
has been permitted, but lately the Constitution (Unigenitus), about
which there has been so much talk, has again forbidden it. It is true
no one minds the injunction. As for me, I laugh and say I am perfectly
willing to obey the Constitution, and will bind myself to read no
French Bible; in fact, I never open any but my German ones. The Bible
is good and wholesome nourishment; and what is more, very agreeable.
But the German Catholics never have recourse to it, they are so
inclined to superstition.
When a person has lived like M. Leibnitz I cannot believe that he
needs to have priests about him; they can teach him nothing, for he
knows more than they. Habit does not form a true fear of God, and
the communion, considered as the result of habit, has no moral value
if the heart is devoid of praiseworthy feelings. I do not doubt M.
Leibnitz's salvation, and I think he is very fortunate not to have
suffered longer.
I know a person who has been the very intimate friend of a learned
abbé That abbé knew most particularly well the celebrated Descartes at
the time when he was living in Amsterdam, before he went to Sweden to
visit Queen Christina. The abbé often told my friend that Descartes
used to laugh at his own system and say: "I have cut them out a fine
piece of work; we'll see who will be fool enough to take hold of
it" [or "be taken in by it." _Je leur ai taillé de la besogne; nous
verrons qui sera assez sot pour y donner_].
I have seen that other philosopher, M. de La Mothe Vayer; with all
his talent he scurried along like a crazy man. He always wore furred
boots and a cap lined with fur, which he never took off, very broad
neck-bands, and a velvet coat.
As long as I was at Heidelberg I never read a novel; his Highness,
my father, would not let me do so; but since I have been here I have
compensated myself finely. There are none that I have not read:
"Astrée," "Cléopatre," "Aléfie," "Cassandre," "Poliesandre" [Madame's
own spelling]. Besides which I have read lesser ones: "Tarcis et
Célie," "Lissandre et Calixte," "Caloandro," "Endimiro," "Amadis"
(but as to the last I only got as far as the seventeenth volume, and
there are twenty-four); also the "Roman des Romans," "Théagène and
Chariclée," of which there are pictures at Fontainebleau in the king's
cabinet.
The monks of Saint-Mihiel have the original of the "Memoirs of
Cardinal de Retz," and they have printed and sold them at Nancy.
Many things are lacking in that edition. But Mme. de Caumartin, who
possesses the memoirs in manuscript, where not a word is missing, is
obstinate in not letting them be seen, so that the work is incomplete.