第47章 [1728-1731](13)

While I was at the seminary, M.d'Aubonne Was obliged to quit Annecy, Moultou being displeased that he made love to his wife, which was acting like a dog in the manger, for though Madam Moultou was extremely amiable, he lived very ill with her, treating her with such brutality that a separation was talked of.Moultou, by repeated oppressions, at length procured a dismissal from his employment: he was a disagreeable man; a mole could not be blacker, nor an owl more knavish.It is said the provincials revenge themselves on their enemies by songs; M.d'Aubonne revenged himself on his by a comedy, which he sent to Madam de Warrens, who showed it to me.I was pleased with it, and immediately conceived the idea of writing one, to try whether I was so silly as the author had pronounced me.This project was not executed till I went to Chambery, where I wrote The Lover of Himself.Thus when I said in the preface to that piece, "it was written at eighteen," I cut off a few years.

Nearly about this time an event happened, not very important in itself, but whose consequence affected me, and made a noise in the world when I had forgotten it.Once a week I was permitted to go out; it is not necessary to say what use I made of this liberty.Being one Sunday at Madam de Warrens', a building belonging to the Cordeliers, which joined her house, took fire; this building which contained their oven, being full of dry fagots, blazed violently and greatly endangered the house; for the wind happening to drive the flames that way, it was covered with them.The furniture, therefore, was hastily got out and carried into the garden which fronted the windows, on the other side the before-mentioned brook.I was so alarmed that I threw indiscriminately everything that came to hand out of the window, even to a large stone mortar, which at another time Ishould have found it difficult to remove, and should have thrown a handsome looking-glass after it had not some one prevented me.The good bishop, who that day was visiting Madam de Warrens, did not remain idle; he took her into the garden, where they went to prayers with the rest that were assembled there, and where, some time afterwards, I found them on their knees, and presently joined them.

While the good man was at his devotions the wind changed, so suddenly and critically that the flames, which had covered the house and began to enter the windows, were carried to the other side of the court, and the house received no damage.Two years after, Monsieur de Berner being dead, the Antoines, his former brethren, began to collect anecdotes which might serve as arguments of his beatification;at the desire of Father Baudet, I joined to these an attestation of what I had just related, in doing which, though I attested no more than the truth, I certainly acted ill, as it tended to make an indifferent occurrence pass for a miracle.I had seen the bishop in prayer, and had likewise seen the wind change during that prayer, and even much to the purpose, all this I could certify truly; but that one of these facts was the cause of the other, I ought not to have attested, because it is what I could not possibly be assured of.

Thus much I may say, that as far as I can recollect what my ideas were at that time, I was sincerely, and in good earnest, a Catholic.Love of the marvelous is natural to the human heart; my veneration for the virtuous prelate, and secret pride in having, perhaps, contributed to the event in question, all helped to seduce me; and certainly, if this miracle was the effect of ardent prayer, I had a right to claim a share of the merit.

More than thirty years after, when I published the Lettres de la Montagne, M.Freron (I know not by what means) discovered this attestation, and made use of it in his paper.I must confess the discovery was very critically timed, and appeared very diverting, even to me.

I was destined to be the outcast of every condition; for notwithstanding M.Gatier gave the most favorable account he possibly could of my studies, they plainly saw the improvement Ireceived bore no proportion to the pains taken to instruct me, which was no encouragement to continue them: the bishop and superior, therefore, were disheartened, and I was sent back to Madam de Warrens, as a subject not even fit to make a priest of; but as they allowed, at the same time, that I was a tolerably good lad, and far from being vicious, this account counterbalanced the former, and determined her not to abandon me.