The family of the man who under Louis XV. was simply called Minoret
was so numerous that one of the five children (the Minoret whose
entrance into the parish church caused such interest) went to Paris to
seek his fortune, and seldom returned to his native town, until he
came to receive his share of the inheritance of his grandfather. After
suffering many things, like all young men of firm will who struggle
for a place in the brilliant world of Paris, this son of the Minorets
reached a nobler destiny than he had, perhaps, dreamed of at the
start. He devoted himself, in the first instance, to medicine, a
profession which demands both talent and a cheerful nature, but the
latter qualification even more than talent. Backed by Dupont de
Nemours, connected by a lucky chance with the Abbe Morellet (whom
Voltaire nicknamed Mords-les), and protected by the Encyclopedists,
Doctor Minoret attached himself as liegeman to the famous Doctor
Bordeu, the friend of Diderot, D'Alembert, Helvetius, the Baron
d'Holbach and Grimm, in whose presence he felt himself a mere boy.
These men, influenced by Bordeu's example, became interested in
Minoret, who, about the year 1777, found himself with a very good
practice among deists, encyclopedists, sensualists, materialists, or
whatever you are pleased to call the rich philosophers of that period.
Though Minoret was very little of a humbug, he invented the famous
balm of Lelievre, so much extolled by the "Mercure de France," the
weekly organ of the Encyclopedists, in whose columns it was
permanently advertised. The apothecary Lelievre, a clever man, saw a
stroke of business where Minoret had only seen a new preparation for
the dispensary, and he loyally shared his profits with the doctor, who
was a pupil of Rouelle in chemistry as well as of Bordeu in medicine.
Less than that would make a man a materialist.
The doctor married for love in 1778, during the reign of the "Nouvelle
Heloise," when persons did occasionally marry for that reason. His
wife was a daughter of the famous harpsichordist Valentin Mirouet, a
celebrated musician, frail and delicate, whom the Revolution slew.
Minoret knew Robespierre intimately, for he had once been instrumental
in awarding him a gold medal for a dissertation on the following
subject: "What is the origin of the opinion that covers a whole family
with the shame attaching to the public punishment of a guilty member
of it? Is that opinion more harmful than useful? If yes, in what way
can the harm be warded off." The Royal Academy of Arts and Sciences at
Metz, to which Minoret belonged, must possess this dissertation in the
original. Though, thanks to this friendship, the Doctor's wife need
have had no fear, she was so in dread of going to the scaffold that
her terror increased a disposition to heart disease caused by the
over-sensitiveness of her nature. In spite of all the precautions
taken by the man who idolized her, Ursula unfortunately met the
tumbril of victims among whom was Madame Roland, and the shock caused
her death. Minoret, who in tenderness to his wife had refused her
nothing, and had given her a life of luxury, found himself after her
death almost a poor man. Robespierre gave him an appointment as
surgeon-in-charge of a hospital.
Though the name of Minoret obtained during the lively debates to which
mesmerism gave rise a certain celebrity which occasionally recalled
him to the minds of his relatives, still the Revolution was so great a
destroyer of family relations that in 1813 Nemours knew little of
Doctor Minoret, who was induced to think of returning there to die,
like the hare to its form, by a circumstance that was wholly
accidental.
Who has not felt in traveling through France, where the eye is often
wearied by the monotony of plains, the charming sensation of coming
suddenly, when the eye is prepared for a barren landscape, upon a
fresh cool valley, watered by a river, with a little town sheltering
beneath a cliff like a swarm of bees in the hollow of an old willow?
Wakened by the "hu! hu!" of the postilion as he walks beside his
horses, we shake off sleep and admire, like a dream within a dream,
the beautiful scene which is to the traveler what a noble passage in a
book is to a reader,--a brilliant thought of Nature. Such is the
sensation caused by a first sight of Nemours as we approach it from
Burgundy. We see it encircled with bare rocks, gray, black, white,
fantastic in shape like those we find in the forest of Fontainebleau;
from them spring scattered trees, clearly defined against the sky,
which give to this particular rock formation the dilapidated look of a
crumbling wall. Here ends the long wooded hill which creeps from
Nemours to Bouron, skirting the road. At the bottom of this irregular
ampitheater lie meadow-lands through which flows the Loing, forming
sheets of water with many falls. This delightful landscape, which
continues the whole way to Montargis, is like an opera scene, for its
effects really seem to have been studied.
One morning Doctor Minoret, who had been summoned into Burgundy by a
rich patient, was returning in all haste to Paris. Not having
mentioned at the last relay the route he intended to take, he was
brought without his knowledge through Nemours, and beheld once more,
on waking from a nap, the scenery in which his childhood had been
passed. He had lately lost many of his old friends. The votary of the
Encyclopedists had witnessed the conversion of La Harpe; he had buried
Lebrun-Pindare and Marie-Joseph de Chenier, and Morellet, and Madame
Helvetius. He assisted at the quasi-fall of Voltaire when assailed by
Geoffroy, the continuator of Freton. For some time past he had thought
of retiring, and so, when his post chaise stopped at the head of the
Grand'Rue of Nemours, his heart prompted him to inquire for his
family. Minoret-Levrault, the post master, came forward himself to see
the doctor, who discovered him to be the son of his eldest brother.
The nephew presented the doctor to his wife, the only daughter of the
late Levrault-Cremiere, who had died twelve years earlier, leaving him
the post business and the finest inn in Nemours.
"Well, nephew," said the doctor, "have I any other relatives?"
"My aunt Minoret, your sister, married a Massin-Massin--"
"Yes, I know, the bailiff of Saint-Lange."
"She died a widow leaving an only daughter, who has lately married a
Cremiere-Cremiere, a fine young fellow, still without a place."
"Ah! she is my own niece. Now, as my brother, the sailor, died a
bachelor, and Captain Minoret was killed at Monte-Legino, and here I
am, that ends the paternal line. Have I any relations on the maternal
side? My mother was a Jean-Massin-Levrault."
"Of the Jean-Massin-Levrault's there's only one left," answered
Minoret-Levrault, "namely, Jean-Massin, who married Monsieur Cremiere-
Levrault-Dionis, a purveyor of forage, who perished on the scaffold.
His wife died of despair and without a penny, leaving one daughter,
married to a Levrault-Minoret, a farmer at Montereau, who is doing
well; their daughter has just married a Massin-Levrault, notary's
clerk at Montargis, where his father is a locksmith."
"So I've plenty of heirs," said the doctor gayly, immediately
proposing to take a walk through Nemours accompanied by his nephew.
The Loing runs through the town in a waving line, banked by terraced
gardens and neat houses, the aspect of which makes one fancy that
happiness must abide there sooner than elsewhere. When the doctor
turned into the Rue des Bourgeois, Minoret-Levrault pointed out the
property of Levrault-Levrault, a rich iron merchant in Paris who, he
said, had just died.
"The place is for sale, uncle, and a very pretty house it is; there's
a charming garden running down to the river."
"Let us go in," said the doctor, seeing, at the farther end of a small
paved courtyard, a house standing between the walls of the two
neighbouring houses which were masked by clumps of trees and climbing-
plants.
"It is built over a cellar," said the doctor, going up the steps of a
high portico adorned with vases of blue and white pottery in which
geraniums were growing.
Cut in two, like the majority of provincial houses, by a long passage
which led from the courtyard to the garden, the house had only one
room to the right, a salon lighted by four windows, two on the
courtyard and two on the garden; but Levrault-Levrault had used one of
these windows to make an entrance to a long greenhouse built of brick
which extended from the salon towards the river, ending in a horrible
Chinese pagoda.
"Good! by building a roof to that greenhouse and laying a floor," said
old Minoret, "I could put my book there and make a very comfortable
study of that extraordinary bit of architecture at the end."
On the other side of the passage, toward the garden, was the dining-
room, decorated in imitation of black lacquer with green and gold
flowers; this was separated from the kitchen by the well of the
staircase. Communication with the kitchen was had through a little
pantry built behind the staircase, the kitchen itself looking into the
courtyard through windows with iron railings. There were two chambers
on the next floor, and above them, attic rooms sheathed in wood, which
were fairly habitable. After examining the house rapidly, and
observing that it was covered with trellises from top to bottom, on
the side of the courtyard as well as on that to the garden,--which
ended in a terrace overlooking the river and adorned with pottery
vases,--the doctor remarked:--