“Bonaparte,” said he, “rules not only over a fickle, but a gossiping (bavard) people, whom he has prudently forbidden all conversation and writing concerning government of the State.  They would soon (accustomed as they are, since the Revolution, to verbal and written debates) be tired of talking about fine weather or about the opera.  To occupy them and their attention, some ample subject of diversion was necessary, and religion was surrendered to them at discretion; because, enlightened as the world now is, even athiests or Christian fanatics can do but little harm to society.  They may spend rivers of ink, but they will be unable to shed a drop of blood.”

“True,” answered the Cardinal, “but only to a certain degree.  The licentiousness of the Press, with regard to religious matters, does it not also furnish infidelity with new arms to injure the faith?  And have not the horrors from which France has just escaped proved the danger and evil consequences of irreligion, and the necessity of encouraging and protecting Christianity?  By the recall of the clergy, and by the religious concordat, Bonaparte has shown himself convinced of this truth.”

“So he is,” interrupted Talleyrand; “but he abhors intoleration and persecution” (not in politics).  “I shall, however, to please Your Eminence, lay the particulars of your conversation before him.”

Some time afterwards, when Talleyrand and Bonaparte must have agreed about some new measure to indirectly chastise impious writers, the Senators Garat, Jaucourt, Roederer, and Demeunier, four of the members of the senatorial commission of the liberty of the Press, were sent for, and remained closeted with Napoleon, his Minister Portalis, and Cardinal Caprara for two hours.  What was determined on this occasion has not transpired, as even the Cardinal, who is not the most discreet person when provoked, and his religious zeal gets the better of his political prudence, has remained silent, though seemingly contented.

Two rather insignificant authors, of the name of Varennes and Beaujou, who published some scandalous libels on Christianity, have since been taken up, and after some months’ imprisonment in the Temple been condemned to transportation to Cayenne for life,—­not as infidels or atheists, but as conspirators against the State, in consequence of some unguarded expressions which prejudice or ill-will alone would judge connected with politics.  Nothing is now permitted to be printed against religion but with the author’s name; but on affixing his name, he may abuse the worship and Gospel as much as he pleases.  Since the example of severity alluded to above, however, this practice is on the decline.  Even Pigault-Lebrun, a popular but immoral novel writer, narrowly escaped lately a trip to Cayenne for one of his blasphemous publications, and owes to the protection of Madame Murat exclusively that he was not sent to keep Varennes and Beaujou company.  Some years ago, when Madame Murat was neither so great nor so rich as at present, he presented her with a copy of his works, and she had been unfashionable enough not only to remember the compliment, but wished to return it by nominating him her private secretary; which, however, the veto of Napoleon prevented.