Just some Punq

THE CONTINENT.

FRANCE.

(FROM OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.)

Paris, February 4.

   What should you think of there being at this moment in France a set of people who, in our nineteenth century, improving upon their predecessors of the great revolution, would put the existnce of the Supreme Being to the vote? Yet here is what passed but a very few days ago: Prince Napoleon, wishing to draw about him the notabilities of the free-thinking and republican coterie, gave a dinner at the Frères Provençeaux to seven persons, among whom were Madame George Sad, Mérimce, and Proudhon, the famous inventor of the formula “All Property is a Theft.” During dinner a vast deal of discussion upon religious and philosophical doctrines took place, and a wonderful deal of atheistic nonsense was expended, without, as you may conceive, any conclusion being attained. At last one of the guests (neither of those whom I have named) proposed that the opinions of the seven persons present should be taken by a vote upon this plain question — “Is there or is there not a Divine Being?” The impiety was actually committed; seven little rolls of paper were deposited in a hat after each guest had written down yes or no upon the inside. Six noes came out! and the seventh was a piece of blank paper. Many comments and jokes were made upon the undecided individual who had not ventured upon either affirmation or negation; and at last Proudhon, who (like all young Napoleon’s intimates) has his perfect freedom of speech with his imperial friend, turning to the Prince, said, “Monseigneur, this is your doing, and it is not fair.” The prince denied at first; objected that the secrecy of the vote was sacred; tried to get out of the scrape as best he might; but at last, pressed by his accuser, ended by avowing that the unwritten bit of paper, expressive of neither no nor yes, was in truth is, and he added, “To be candid, I have two contradictory opinions thereupon: when I am in the plenitude of my reasoning faculties, and when my intellect sees clear and straight before me, I say No without any hesitation; and then again there are times when doubts overtake me, when I really do not like to assume the responsibility of a denial, and when I am quite capable of saying Yes. Now, remembering these alternations of doubt and inclination to believe, I thought it on the whole safer and even more honest to say nothing at all, and therefor I put in a blank vote.” The five others too the prince’s excuses very well, only laughing and seeming unconcerned; but Proudhon, with a peculiar sort of smile that he has, and that may be held to mean anything you choose (provided it be bad), held up his hand, saying, “Ah! Monseigneur, Monseigneur! after all, then, you are but a false brother.”

Retyped from 6 February 1856: Putting God to the vote