INTERRUPTIONS. ANOTHER NOTE FROM VOLTAIRE.

385

The Abbé was frequently interrupted by the impatience of Voltaire's friends. "Make an end," said one

of them,1 you see that Monsieur Voltaire vomits blood, and is not in a condition to speak.' Voltaire smartly answered, "Ah Monsieur, leave me if you please with my friend the Abbé Gaultier; he does not flatter me." Madame Denis came in at the end of three quarters of an hour, and spoke gently-" Monsieur l'Abbé, my uncle will be much fatigued; be so kind as to come again another time." He then retired, asking permission to repeat his attendance, which was readily granted, and departed with the words, "Adieu, Monsieur Voltaire; I believe you have not a more sincere friend in the world than I am." Thus ended this extraordinary interview, and the Abbé proceeded to give an account of it to the archbishop of Paris and the curé de St. Sulpice.

He heard no more of Voltaire till the 26th of February, when he received a note to this effect: "You promised, Monsieur, to come and hear what I had to say; I desire you will give yourself the trouble to come as soon as you can.". It was late in the evening when this invitation reached him, but the request was repeated the next morning by Madame Denis. He accordingly attended at the house of the Marquis de Villette, but he did not see Voltaire. He was told that the curé de St. Sulpice was come to urge him to confession, but that he had said all his confidence was in the Abbé. On the second of March he went again, and before he entered the apartment of Voltaire, was warned not to be alarmed, as he was vomiting blood, and to speak mildly. The Marechal de Richelieu came out, and begged the

1 It appears that D'Alembert and Diderot were of this party, and treated the Abbé with contempt.

386

VOLTAIRE'S RETRACTATION.

Abbé not to neglect him. He promised to do his best. On his entering the chamber, Voltaire seized him by the hand, and desired that he would confess him before he died. The Abbé replied that he had spoken to the curé de St. Sulpice, whose parishioner Voltaire was, and had received permission to do so, but that he must make retractation before confession. This he offered to write himself, and called for pen and ink. When they were brought, he desired all to retire that he might be left alone with the Abbé Gaultier. The Abbé asserted that he then wrote with his own hand-" I, underwritten, declare, that being attacked four months since with a vomiting of blood, at the age of fourscore and four years, and not being able to drag myself to church, Monsieur le curé de St. Sulpice being glad to add to his good works, that of sending Monsieur l'Abbé Gaultier the priest to me-I confess myself to him, and if God take me, I die in the Catholic religion in which I was born, hoping in the divine mercy for pardon of all my faults; and if I have ever brought scandal on the Church, I ask pardon of God and her." Witnesses were called in to hear this retractation read, and to sign it. Voltaire then also wrote-" M. l'Abbé Gaultier having given me notice, that they say in a certain world, I shall protest against all that I do at my death; I declare that I never had such intentions, and that it is an ancient pleasantry attributed a long time ago very falsely, to several scholars more enlightened than VOLTAIRE."

He then handed the Abbé his retractation, and said, "You are going no doubt to insert it in the journals: I have no objection." The Abbé replied, "It is yet too soon." "Are you satisfied?" asked Voltaire. The answer was, "It does not appear sufficient; but I will communicate it to the Archbishop of Paris." Upon

HIS DELIRIUM AND DEATH.

387

seeing it, he did not approve it, neither did the curé de St. Sulpice, to whom it was also carried, although Voltaire sent him a large sum of money to distribute to the poor.1 The Abbé returned to the house of the Marquis de Villette, to endeavour to obtain a less equivocal document, but was told by the Suisse he could not be admitted. On this he wrote to Voltaire, and received for answer that the master of the house had forbidden entrance to any ecclesiastic except the curé de St. Sulpice; but that when the sick man had recovered his health a little, he would be happy to see Monsieur l'Abbé Gaultier. This reply was signed "de Voltaire," and dated 66 Paris, March 15." He somewhat revived, but the promise was not kept. On hearing this, the Abbé applied with great urgency by letter to be allowed an interview. Voltaire sent his nephew Monsieur l'Abbé Mignot to call on Monsieur Gaultier, and to say that his uncle would confess to nobody but him. He promised to confess him, upon condition that he signed a retractation drawn up by himself. The Abbé Mignot undertook to make Voltaire sign it, and to have it inserted in all the journals and newspapers in Europe. The Abbé Gaultier then went to him and found him delirious, the effect probably of the large doses of opium he is reported to have taken. Of course the Abbé mentioned nothing of his errand; and three hours after he went away, Voltaire died.

These particulars I have gathered from a communication said to have been made by the Abbé Gaultier, officially, to the Archbishop of Paris, which was translated by Miss Hill. During the time the Abbé was refused

1 The account given by the Abbé Gaultier has been frequently adverted to in other publications; therefore I have not introduced the narrative into this work.

388

HIS BODY REFUSED BURIAL AT PARIS.

admission to the chamber of Voltaire, he was suffering under the agonies of despair, which overwhelmed him as he saw death approaching, and which his attendants vainly endeavoured to subdue by strong soporifics.

As soon as the death of Voltaire became known, the Archbishop forbade his body to be interred in consecrated ground, and prevailed, although efforts were made to obtain superior orders against the prelate. At length his corpse, it is said, became an object of infection and horror, and was taken by stealth from Paris. It was pretended by the conductors that they were going to carry him to Ferney, but they went to Sellieres in Champagne, where M. Mignot his nephew, who was commendatory abbé, received a feigned report that his uncle had died in a very Christian manner on the road. The Bishop of Troyes, informed of this manœuvre, sent immediately to forbid the funeral, but his order did not arrive till the prior had finished the ceremony. They agreed that the body should not be disinterred, but the Archbishop put an interdict on the chapel where it was deposited, and the prior was greatly censured by the generality of his order.

This fact is derived from the manuscript of Miss Hill, which also states that the philosophers, not being able to procure funeral honours for their chief, undertook to celebrate his obsequies on the stage by the representation of the tragedy of Mahomed, at which they proposed to assist in deep mourning, but the police being apprised of the project, put an end to it. The irritated comedians endeavoured to suspend the theatrical performances for three days, but the authorities sent them an order to perform as usual. Other efforts were made by them to do honour to the memory of their leader, but all were frustrated.

VOLTAIRE'S HORRORS IN DEATH.

389

The end of Voltaire was horrible in the extreme. After the curate of St. Sulpice and the Abbé Gaultier had left the room, M. Tronchin his physician found him in frightful agitations, and crying out in despair, "I am abandoned of God and man." In a state of frenzied agony, he actually degraded his very nature by fulfilling in his own person, the spirit of a prophecy of Ezekiel' which he had often ridiculed with his bitterest sarcasms. M. Tronchin related this to several respectable persons, and remarked to them, "I wish all those who have been seduced by Voltaire's books, had been witnesses of his death; they could not have held out against such a sight."

Thus departed the infidel libertine from a world he had endeavoured to corrupt. For sixty long years, he was the enemy of men and their Saviour, seeking only his own glory, and looking with an eye of hateful jealousy on the fame of others. His principles afforded him no resting place of body or mind; he could find peace and tranquillity neither at Paris, nor Nancy, nor in England, Holland, Prussia, nor Switzerland; and at last ended a turbulent career by a disturbed old age and a miserable death. The cloud which gathered over him in his dying struggle, thickened in its blackness as he sought a vain refuge in empty ceremonies, that can give no real comfort to the soul of man. He seized with the eagerness of a wanton child upon every toy that came within his reach, till he broke it and cast the fragments away in unsatisfied disgust. He would be a man of universal letters; he would be rich; he would be noble; he attained all, and found pleasure in none. Every draught of ambition was poisoned by the gall of

1 Ezekiel iv. 12.