Nanette Mason on Kristina's life and character, year 1888

Source:

Odd Characters: A Gallery of Eccentric Women: Christina, Queen of Sweden, article written by Nanette Mason for The Girl's Own Paper, volume 9 (October 1887-September 1888), pages 124 to 126, 1888

https://www.victorianvoices.net/magazines/GOP/GOP1888.shtml

https://www.victorianvoices.net/ARTICLES/GOP/1888/1888-Women-Christina.pdf

Above: Kristina.

The article:

ODD CHARACTERS.
A GALLERY OF ECCENTRIC WOMEN.
By NANETTE MASON.
1. — CHRISTINA, QUEEN OF SWEDEN.
The bells of Stockholm one morning in the winter of 1626 announced the birth of an heir to the crown of Sweden. The king — Gustavus Adolphus, the hero of Protestantism in the Thirty Years' War — had wished for a son to succeed him, and the whole nation earnestly desired that a son it might be. The stars had been questioned on the subject by the astrologers, whose science was held in great veneration in those days, and the response had led everyone to expect that this universal wish would be realised. But everybody was disappointed: it proved to be a daughter.

When Gustavus, holding the little girl in his arms, presented her to his Ministers, he said — "I hope she will be worth even more than a boy: she will without doubt be very clever, for she has already deceived us all."

She was baptised under the name of Christina; and, to make up as far as possible for the disappointment of his hopes, the king resolved to give her such an education as would develop a masculine disposition. To this education may be attributed many of the singularities which she afterwards displayed.

When she was scarcely two years old her father took her one day to Calmar. The commandant of the fortress there omitted to fire the usual royal salute, and the king, on asking the reason, was told that it was for fear of disturbing the princess. "Fire away!" said Gustavus: "the daughter of a soldier ought to be accustomed to the use of arms!" If he had not died so soon after this, Christina would not have had occasion to express regret, as she once did, that she had never assisted at a battle.

On the departure of Gustavus for Germany in 1630, an expedition from which he was never to return, he confided his daughter to the care of Oxenstiern, the famous chancellor, charging him to have her instructed in every possible branch of learning, and particularly in Greek and Latin. At the same time he appointed a regency, and, carrying in the little Christina, presented her to the assembled States of the kingdom as their future sovereign.

Gustavus perished in the battle of Lützen in 1632, and Christina thus came to the throne in her sixth year.

The liberal course of education indicated by her father was strictly carried out. She was thoroughly instructed not only in the classical tongues, but in several modern languages. Her head was also stored with information on history, geography, natural science, and almost every subject one could think of. Unfortunately, it was a species of cramming. Her intellect was crowded and oppressed with a mass of knowledge, either half digested or not digested at all.

A good deal of time was devoted to manly exercises. She rode on horseback, hunted, reviewed troops, could drive a sledge with wonderful dexterity, and used — dressed in boy's clothes — to make long pedestrian excursions.

At the council table she displayed a searching wit and power of reasoning far beyond her years. Oxenstiern himself attended to her education in politics, and from him she received the ablest lessons in statecraft and the art of government to be had anywhere in Europe at that time. So much confidence was felt in her that when she was sixteen years old she was pressed to enter on the exercise of her duties and privileges as queen regnant. She declined, however, and it was not till two years later that she took up the reins of government.

The eyes of Europe were now upon the young queen, and many princes were eager to enter into a matrimonial alliance with her. Amongst her suitors were the Prince of Denmark, the Elector Palatine, the Elector of Brandenburg, the Kings of Portugal and Spain, and Charles Gustavus, Duke of Deux Ponts, her first cousin. The last was the favourite with the nation, who all wished their sovereign to marry.

But she would have nothing to say to princely wooers, and the reasons for her refusal have been preserved in a number of eccentric speeches. The real motive was her love of independence.

"My ardent and impetuous temperament", she says herself, "is formed as much for affection as for ambition; however, I have always resisted entering on a wedded life through pride, and because I did not wish to come under subjection to anyone." Tired at last of suggestions on the subject, she solemnly appointed Charles Gustavus, her cousin, as her successor; and from that time she was looked upon as having made deliberate choice of a single life.

As queen she was at first a success, showing great talent and dexterity, and proving herself fully able to conduct the affairs of a powerful kingdom. She knew how to keep her people in order. "It was a wonderful thing", says a Flemish writer of her time, "to see how at the very opening of her mouth every person present trembled. Even the great General Wrangel, who had made all Germany shake in their shoes, was in the presence of this princess as meek as a lamb." She concluded a treaty with Denmark, brought the Thirty Years' War to an end, reformed abuses, filled the treasury, encouraged arts and commerce, and soon had her dominions in a flourishing condition, both within and without.

In the year 1650 she was crowned. It was an affair of more than ordinary splendour and rejoicing. Her subjects, favourably impressed by her doings in the past, has the most enthusiastic hopes for the future.

From this time, however, it was observed that Christina cared less and less for affairs of State, and assumed a philosophic contempt for pomp and parade. She soon developed into a bluestocking of the severest type. Neither time nor money was expended on dress. Her riding-habit a visitor to the Court set down as worth a few shillings. Earrings, bracelets, and such-like ornaments she had none. Her toilet took a quarter of an hour, except on Sundays, when thirty minutes was devoted to it. She combed her hair as a rule once a week, and when her studies were more engrossing than ordinary it was done once a fortnight. Her sleeves and linen were stained with ink, and a rent here and there in her dress was not an uncommon thing. A friend once spoke to her in favour of washing. "Washing!" exclaimed the queen, "that's all very well for people who have nothing else to do."

But, whilst developing some unqueenly and ridiculous characteristics, she retained not a few good qualities. She hated idleness and idle people. The more she had to do, the better she was pleased. Twelve hours a day were devoted to study, and sleep was grudged every minute over five hours. No one could accuse her of either sham or hypocrisy, and she carried this characteristic to such an extent, that though she was short of stature she insisted on wearing shoes without heels that she might not seem a hair's breadth higher than the truth.

She was not a woman's woman: far from it. "I have an aversion and an invincible antipathy", she says, "to all that women do and say." Her conversation was very forcible and unfeminine.

The love of intellectual pursuits now appeared to be her ruling passion. She rejoiced in being queen, only that she might act as patroness of learning and learned men throughout Europe. Savants of all kinds were invited to her Court, and with them came not a few charlatans, so that she soon found herself surrounded by a picturesque mixture of wisdom and folly. These guests repaid her hospitality by outrageous flattery in poems, letters, and dedications.

The reign of favourites now began. The chief of them was Bourdelot, a French abbé — gossiping, intriguing, and cynical — who pretended to some knowledge of medicine, and resided in the palace in the capacity of physician. He acquired great influence over Christina, and provided her with ill-natured amusement by turning into ridicule her troop of philosophers and men of letters, whose jealousies were incessant. By the natives of Sweden he was intensely disliked, and a plot was laid at last to murder him. He got warning of it, and fled, "carrying with him in coin or plate — national property, too — not less than a hundred thousand crowns."

The welfare of the kingdom began steadily to decline. Public moneys were expended in pensions and presents to the hangers-on of the Royal palace. Christina also spent enormous sums, for a country like Sweden, in buying books, manuscripts, pictures, medals, and miscellaneous curiosities. As an example of her purchases we are told that, having secured some pictures of Titian at extravagant prices, she had them clipped to fit the panels of her gallery.

Her subjects took to murmuring. The waste of money, the patronage of foreigners at the expense of natives, not to speak of other things, excited much ill-feeling, even though the loyal Swedes would have been inclined to pardon much to the daughter of the great Gustavus.

Christina was quick of observation, and soon saw that she had sunk in public estimation. By this time she was weary and disgusted with public affairs, and fretted under what she called the splendid slavery of royalty.

She resolved to abdicate in favour of her cousin, Charles Gustavus. It was the only way, she felt convinced, to indulge her capricious disposition in perfect liberty. Besides, such a step would gratify her vanity; she would, in her own person, provide the world with the extraordinary spectacle of a crowned queen retiring from business.

Her intention was announced in 1652, but, for some reason or other, the States remonstrated, and — yielding to the pressure brought to bear upon her — she continued to reign for two years longer. In 1654 she brought the matter forward again, and insisted on having her own way. "I have made up my mind", she said, "and do not trouble myself to know, nor do I care, what people may say about it."

She stipulated for a guaranteed annual income and certain lands, which she could hold at her own sovereign disposal, and reserved to herself her own independence and absolute authority over all the people in her suite or in her house. A signal proof that she was in earnest was given by her sending out of the kingdom over a hundred cases filled with books, medals, paintings, statues, jewels, gold and silver vases, and rare manuscripts.

The abdication morning was on the 6th of June, 1654. At seven o'clock, for they rose early in those days, Christina appeared before the Senate dressed in white, and wearing all the ornaments of royalty. She sat for the last time on her silver throne, and one of the senators read over the conditions on which she laid down the sceptre.

The emblems of sovereignty were removed from her person by an officer of State — all excepting the crown — and she was left standing in her robe of pure white on the steps of the throne. She removed the crown herself, taking it from her head with apparent composure. Then she delivered her farewell address, speaking with eloquence, though her voice sometimes trembled. Most of those present wept outright.

Her speech at an end, she was conducted by Charles Gustavus to her private apartments. Charles left her at the door, and then went to the cathedral, where he took up the crown which she had laid down. His coronation was rather a tame ceremony, on account of the poverty of the public exchequer.

Christina was now free to do as she pleased, and her first resolve was to take a journey through Europe. She set out, and an early incident in her travels was her arrival at a stream which then separated Sweden from Denmark. Descending from her carriage she made a leap to the opposite bank, exclaiming, "I am free at last, and out of a country to which I hope never to return."

At the first halting-place on foreign soil she quitted the habit of her sex, had her luxuriant tresses cut off, and donned a man's wig. Her valet was loth to use the scissors, but she set his mind at ease. "Do you think", said she, "that when I have just parted with a kingdom I care a straw for a head of hair?"

She called herself Count Dohna. Her dress was that of a French gentleman. She wore the hat and large boots which were then fashionable, her wig was black, and she had a carbine slung over one shoulder and a sword hung from the other. Her novel garb and assumed name were, no doubt, precautions to escape impertinent curiosity, and to avoid any dangers she might incur through travelling with only a small number of attendants. When she got safely within the walls of Antwerp — her first important halting-place — the disguise was laid aside.

By the Spanish authorities at Antwerp Christina was received with every demonstration of goodwill. It was now noticed that she began to be exacting on points of etiquette, to which she had hitherto been perfectly indifferent. The change is explained by one of her biographers. "The reigning queen of a country", he says, "was not likely to receive slights. A wandering queen, without a crown, might not get all the respect which she claimed, and could certainly afford less to overlook any attacks on her dignity."

From Antwerp she proceeded to Brussels, which she entered through a gate where there was a firework display, representing two angels holding between them the name "Christina" encircled with laurels. The city was brilliantly illuminated, and everything was done to make her comfortable. Not knowing, perhaps, that she was above caring for the pleasures of the table, and could be satisfied with a ship biscuit and a bit of tough beef, the hospitable people of Brussels, for her benefit, sent long distances for veal, fish, mutton, venison, and poultry of every kind.

The night after her arrival in Brussels, Christina privately renounced Lutheranism, and was received into the Roman Catholic Church. When this act became known over the Continent it was much talked about, and all the more so as she had, up to this time, exhibited remarkable indifference to religion. Her change of faith seems to have arisen from no conscientious convictions whatever: it was partly a whim and partly a convenience. She was bound for Italy, and lightly threw overboard the faith in which she had been born and bred, in order that at Rome she might be able to do as the Romans do.

She stayed at Brussels for nine months, leaving it on the 22nd of September, 1655, after a distribution of presents on a scale of reckless extravagance to all who had done her the slightest service.

Her journey southwards was a triumphal progress, and before she was half way to Rome, she was heartily sick of fêtes, fireworks, illuminations, triumphal arches, and long-winded addresses. At Innsbruck, she made the first public confession of her belief in the doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church. This was done at the Franciscan Church, which she attended dressed in plain black silk, and wearing the solitary ornament of a splendid diamond cross.

She entered Rome on horseback with all the air of a conquering hero, and was welcomed with enthusiasm by enormous crowds of people. Everyone was in holiday attire, the streets were hung with garlands, and grotesque doings, from morning till night, celebrated the arrival of this illustrious and eccentric convert.

After being confirmed and baptized as Alexandrina by Pope Alexander VII., the ex-queen settled down as a tenant of the Farnese Palace. Here we soon find her the centre of a large circle of artists, authors, philosophers, and scientific mountebanks. Her time was spent in study, correspondence, and the examination of the antiquities of the neighbourhood, which her extensive reading enabled her fully to appreciate.

Considerable attention was given to modern art. An anecdote worth repeating is told about a visit she paid one day to the studio of the sculptor Bernine, who was then in the height of his fame. He had just finished a statue of Truth, which Christina admired immensely. She exclaimed several times, "Ah! how beautiful!"

"Heaven be praised", said a cardinal, who accompanied her, "that your majesty loves the truth, which personages of your rank seldom care about!"

"That is likely enough", replied Christina, "because the truth is not always of marble."

She gave some trouble to her new friends. "The newly-caught lamb", says Dr. Doran, "was rather difficult to manage." Ill-feeling sprang up between her and her attendants; then she thought herself slighted by the Roman nobility, who no doubt found her half-civilised ways insupportable. At last she quarrelled outright with some of the cardinals, and found her position in Rome far from comfortable. An excuse was invented for leaving the Eternal City, and off she set on a visit to the Court of France.

Louis XIV., then quite a young man, sent the Duke of Guise to meet her at Marseilles, and from the duke's pen we have a description of her personal appearance: —

"She is not tall", he says, "but well made; her arm is handsome, her hand white and well formed, but more like a man's than a woman's. One shoulder is rather higher than the other; but she conceals the defect so well with her strange dress and movements, that one might make a bet about it. Her face is long, and all her features are strongly marked; her nose is aquiline, her mouth large but not unpleasant, and her teeth are pretty good.

"Her eyes are beautiful and full of animation. Her complexion is good, and she has an extraordinary headdress. This is a man's wig, made very large and high in front. She wears a great deal of powder, and seldom any gloves. She uses men's boots, and has the voice and manners of a man. She is very polite, and speaks eight languages well, and particularly French, as if she had been born in Paris. She knows more than all our Academy and the Sorbonne put together. She is an admirable judge of paintings and of everything else. She knows more of the intrigues of our Court than I do myself. .... I do not think I have omitted anything from her portrait, except that she sometimes wears a sword and a buff jerkin."

It was in the year 1656 that she entered Paris. She was fairly well received by the Court. Her odd dress and uncurled wig, however, gave rise to many a joke, and when she passed through the streets of the capital the Parisians made fun of her, and said she was like "a half-tipsy g*psy." Her coarse manners, too, shocked the ladies. They gave her the cold shoulder; but Christina consoled herself by hobnobbing with authors and philosophers.

Dissatisfied with the impression she had produced, she thought she might do better in England, and so wrote to Cromwell suggesting the possibility of a visit to this country. The Protector had heard too much about her, and in replying gave her no encouragement to come.

Shortly after this, and during her residence at Fontainebleau, she startled the civilised world by a deed of a singularly cold-blooded and unwomanly character. This was the murder — for it was nothing else — of her equerry, Monaldeschi. The reason for taking the life of this unfortunate man is hid in obscurity, but it is generally understood that he had betrayed some secrets entrusted to him.

Monaldeschi was dressed ready to go hunting, when he was summoned into the Galerie des Cerfs, under the famous Galerie de Diane. Letters were shown him, at the sight of which he grew pale. He pled for mercy, but in vain. He fell beneath the daggers of two of Christina's domestics, Christina herself being in an adjoining apartment.

This wicked act, which took place on Saturday, the 10th of November, 1657, at a quarter to four in the afternoon, hastened her departure from France. The Court, though it shut its eyes to what she had done, no longer welcomed her, and as for the people, they looked on her with such abhorrence that for some time Christina hardly dared to show herself abroad.

She returned to Rome early in May, 1658, and busied herself there, as before, with arts and sciences, "filling up her odd moments by writing to Sweden to complain about her annuity, which was paid with great irregularity." Indeed, her Swedish revenues came in so slowly that she was allowed a pension by the Pope. Her capricious temper now showed itself in quarrels with everybody, from the Pope downwards. She felt that she had made a mistake in resigning the Swedish throne, and reflections on that subject did not make her more amiable.

In 1660 Charles Gustavus died, and Christina returned to her native land to see if she could not again get possession of the sceptre. But her old subjects were unfriendly: her change of creed, the murder of Monaldeschi, and her eccentric doings generally had opened their eyes. They supplied her with money more slowly than ever, pulled down her chapel, banished all her Italian chaplains, and made it quite clear that she was unwelcome even as a visitor. She was compelled to execute another and more binding deed of renunciation, and to return once more to Rome.

About six years afterwards she again set out for Sweden, and on this occasion her reception was even worse. The last spark of national regard for the daughter of Gustavus had died out. She withdrew to Hamburg, and from thence did her best to secure the crown of Poland, then vacant. This brilliant scheme failing, she turned her face towards the sunny south, to establish herself in Rome for the rest of her days.

She lived there for about twenty years after this. Her quarrels were more bitter than ever. She troubled statesmen by her political intrigues, and puzzled philosophers by asking them questions which they could not answer. The Head of the Church took a paternal interest in her, which she repaid with scorn. She had known four Popes, she said, and only one of them possessed common sense.

For satellites she had a crowd of poets, painters, and learned men of every kind. Amongst them were many "dealers in destiny's dark counsels;" for Christina indulged in dreams of alchemy and judicial astrology. She domineered over her following to the last, and exacted faithful service in the way of additions to her collection — which grew to be a large one — of books, paintings, and curiosities.

The end came in 1689. She had been for some time seriously unwell, and on the 19th of April that year her little Court stood round her bed. It was just at noon. As the clock began to strike she turned on her right side, placed her left hand under her neck, and before the last sound of twelve had died away she was sleeping the sleep of death.

Extraordinary magnificent characterised her funeral rites. She was carried, robed in gold brocade with a white ground, to her last resting-place in St. Peter's, where she now lies under a sonorous epitaph.

Note: Kristina actually first announced her intention to abdicate in 1651.

Kristina's letter to Leopold I, Holy Roman Emperor, congratulating him on the birth of his daughter Maria Josepha, dated March 26/April 5 (New Style), 1687

Source:

Bibliothèque interuniversitaire (Montpellier); Manuscrits de la reine Christine; Lettere della regina a principi; Lettere al imperatore; Lettres à Léopold Ier; Christine de Suède à l'empereur Léopold Ier, [s. l.], 5 avril 1687 (digitisation page 50v-51r)

https://calames.abes.fr/pub/#details?id=Calames-201911221411883356

Christine (1626-1689 ; reine de Suède), Manuscrits de la reine Christine : Lettere della regina a principi, 1601-1700.

[En ligne sur https://ged.scdi-montpellier.fr/florabium45/jsp/nodoc.jsp?NODOC=2023_DOC_MONT_MBUM_92] (consulté le 29/10/2024 08:05).

The Foli@ online digital heritage library is here:

https://ged.biu-montpellier.fr/florabium/jsp/portal/index_patrimoine.jsp

Copyright SCDI-UPV - Collections Université de Montpellier (shelfmark H 258).

The letter:

5. Ap[ri]l[e] 87 —

Serenissimo Jmperatore F[rat]ello Carissimo. Hò ric[evuta] la parte datame da V M C della Nascità d'vna nuova Arciduchessina con sodisf[atione] proporzionata alla cordialita con la q[ua]le mi prof[esso] interessata nelle Sue Consolazioni, e nelle felicita dell'Jmp[eria]l Sua Casa Me ne rallegro [...] con la M V. C. e ringraziandola di q[ues]ta dimostrat[ione] del Suo aff[etto] verso di me resto pregando Dio che conservi l'Arciduchessina nata e conceda á V M. C. ogni maggior prosp[er]ita

With modernised spelling:

5 aprile '87. —

Serenissimo imperatore, Fratello carissimo,

Ho ricevuta la parte datame da Vostra Maestà Cesarea della nascità d'una nuova arciduchesina con soddisfazione proporzionata alla cordialità con la quale mi professo interessata nelle sue consolazioni e nelle felicità dell'imperial sua Casa. Me ne rallegro [...] con la Maestà Vostra Cesarea, e, ringraziandola di questa dimostrazione del suo affetto verso di me resto, pregando Dio che conservi l'arciduchessina nata e conceda a Vostra Maestà Cesarea ogni maggior prosperità.

French translation (my own):

Le 5 avril '87. —

Sérénissime empereur, très cher Frère,

J'ai reçu la part qui m'a été donnée par Votre Majesté Impériale de la naissance d'une nouvelle petite archiduchesse avec une satisfaction proportionnée à la cordialité avec laquelle je professe mon intérêt pour ses consolations et pour les félicités de sa Maison Impériale. Je me réjouis [...] avec Votre Majesté Impériale, et, la remerciant de cette démonstration d'affection envers moi, je reste, priant Dieu de conserver la petite archiduchesse née et d'accorder à Votre Majesté Impériale une prospérité plus grande.

Swedish translation (my own):

Den 5 april '87. —

Durchlauchtigste kejsaren, allrakäraste Bror,

Jag har mottagit nyheten som Ers Kejserliga Majestät gav mig om födelsen av en ny liten ärkehertiginna med tillfredsställelse i proportion till den hjärtlighet med vilken jag bekänner mitt intresse för Era tröstar och för Ert kejserliga Huss glädje. Jag glädjes [...] med Ers Kejserliga Majestät och, tackande Er för denna demonstration av Er tillgivenhet mot mig, jag förblir, bedjande Gud att bevara den lilla födda ärkehertiginnan och att ge Ers Kejserliga Majestät varje större välstånd.

English translation (my own):

April 5, '87. —

Most Serene Emperor, dearest Brother,

I have received the part given to me by Your Imperial Majesty of the birth of a new little archduchess with satisfaction proportionate to the cordiality with which I profess my interest in your consolations and in the felicities of your Imperial House. I rejoice [...] with Your Imperial Majesty, and, thanking you for this demonstration of your affection toward me, I remain, praying God to preserve the little Archduchess born and to grant Your Imperial Majesty every greater prosperity.

Above: Kristina.

Above: Leopold I, Holy Roman Emperor.

Above: Archduchess Maria Josepha of Austria.

Notes: In accordance with the nobility's ideals in the early modern era, kings and queens considered themselves siblings.

Leopold's wife Eleonore Magdalene had given birth to the Archduchess Maria Josepha of Austria on February 24/March 6 (New Style), 1687. Her full name was Maria Josepha Colletta Antonia. Sadly, she passed away from smallpox on April 4/14, 1703. She was just sixteen years old. Through her older brother Karl (1685-1740), and if she had lived, Anna Josepha was and would have been the fraternal aunt of Maria Theresa (1717-1780), who was the Holy Roman Empire's only empress regnant and who had among her many children Marie Antoinette (1755-1793), the last queen consort of France prior to the French Revolution.

Kristina's letter to Leopold I, Holy Roman Emperor, congratulating him on the capture of Buda, dated September 4/14 (New Style), 1686

Source:

Bibliothèque interuniversitaire (Montpellier); Manuscrits de la reine Christine; Lettere della regina a principi; Lettere al imperatore; Lettres à Léopold Ier; Christine de Suède à l'empereur Léopold Ier, [s. l.], 14 septembre 1686 (digitisation page 49v-50r)

https://calames.abes.fr/pub/#details?id=Calames-201911221411883355

Christine (1626-1689 ; reine de Suède), Manuscrits de la reine Christine : Lettere della regina a principi, 1601-1700.

[En ligne sur https://ged.scdi-montpellier.fr/florabium45/jsp/nodoc.jsp?NODOC=2023_DOC_MONT_MBUM_92] (consulté le 29/10/2024 06:55).

The Foli@ online digital heritage library is here:

https://ged.biu-montpellier.fr/florabium/jsp/portal/index_patrimoine.jsp

Copyright SCDI-UPV - Collections Université de Montpellier (shelfmark H 258).

The letter:

Serenissimo Jmperatore e Fratello Carissimo. Quanto più ardua è Stata l'Jmpresa di Buda tanto maggior è la gloria che S'accresce all'heroico valore dell'Armi di V M. C. che ne hanno finalm[en]te riportata la Vittoria. Jo mi rallegro cordialissimam[en]te con la M V. C. di Si felice prospero Successo, e la ringrazio delle affettuose espressioni con le quali me l'hà partecipato assicurandola che come mi professo interessata nelle Sue felicità così le ne auguro la continuat[io]ne con quella pienezza Sincerità d'animo, con la quale mi confermo

D V M C

14. Sett[embre] 86

L'Abb[at]e Santinj

With modernised spelling:

Serenissimo imperatore e Fratello carissimo,

Quanto più ardua è stata l'impresa di Buda tanto maggior è la gloria che s'accresce all'eroico valore dell'armi di Vostra Maestà Cesarea che ne hanno finalmente riportata la vittoria. Io mi rallegro cordialmente con la Maestà Vostra Cesarea di sì prospero successo, e la ringrazio delle affettuose espressioni con le quali me l'ha partecipato, assicurandola che come mi professo interessata nelle sue felicità così le ne auguro la continuazione con quella pienezza d'animo con la quale mi confermo

di Vostra Maestà Cesarea...

14 settembre '86.

L'abbate Santini.

French translation (my own):

Sérénissime empereur et très cher Frère,

Plus l'entreprise de Buda a été ardue, plus grande est la gloire qui naît de la valeur héroïque des armes de Votre Majesté Impériale qui ont finalement amené la victoire. Je félicite cordialement Votre Majesté Impériale pour un succès aussi prospère, et je la remercie des expressions affectueuses avec lesquelles elle l'a partagé avec moi, l'assurant que, comme je me déclare intéressé à votre félicité, je lui souhaite de la poursuivre avec cette plénitude d'esprit avec laquelle je me confirme

de Votre Majesté Impériale...

Le 14 septembre '86.

L'abbé Santini.

Swedish translation (my own):

Durchlauchtigste kejsaren och allrakäraste Bror,

Ju svårare Budas företag var, desto större ära växer fram ur det heroiska värdet av Ers Kejserliga Majestäts vapen som till slut har åstadkommit segern. Jag gratulerar hjärtligt Ers Kejserliga Majestät till en sådan välmående framgång, och jag tackar Er för de tillgivna uttrycken med vilka Ni har delat det med mig, och försäkrar Er att, eftersom jag bekänner mig intresserad av Er lycka, så önskar jag Er dess fortsättning med denna fullhet av ande med vilken jag bekräftar mig som

Ers Kejserliga Majestäts...

Den 14 september '86.

Abboten Santini.

English translation (my own):

Most Serene Emperor and dearest Brother,

The more arduous the enterprise of Buda was, the greater the glory that grows from the heroic value of the arms of Your Imperial Majesty that have finally brought about the victory. I cordially congratulate Your Imperial Majesty on such a prosperous success, and I thank you for the affectionate expressions with which you have shared it with me, assuring you that as I profess myself interested in your felicity, so I wish you its continuation with that fullness of spirit with which I confirm myself as

Your Imperial Majesty's...

September 14, '86.

Abbot Santini.

Above: Kristina.

Above: Leopold I, Holy Roman Emperor.

Notes: In accordance with the nobility's ideals in the early modern era, kings and queens considered themselves siblings.

The Siege of Buda was fought between the Holy League and the Ottoman Empire as part of the follow-up campaign in Hungary after the 1683 Battle of Vienna. The Holy League took Buda (modern day Budapest) after 78 days, ending 150 years of Ottoman rule.

Kristina's letter to Leopold I, Holy Roman Emperor, asking him to accord a bishopric in Croatia to Theophanes Maurocordato, the Bishop of Paronaxia, dated January 16/26 (New Style), 1686

Source:

Bibliothèque interuniversitaire (Montpellier); Manuscrits de la reine Christine; Lettere della regina a principi; Lettere al imperatore; Lettres à Léopold Ier; Christine de Suède à l'empereur Léopold Ier, [s. l.], 26 janvier 1686 (digitisation page 48v-49r)

https://calames.abes.fr/pub/#details?id=Calames-201911221411528753

Christine (1626-1689 ; reine de Suède), Manuscrits de la reine Christine : Lettere della regina a principi, 1601-1700.

[En ligne sur https://ged.scdi-montpellier.fr/florabium45/jsp/nodoc.jsp?NODOC=2023_DOC_MONT_MBUM_92] (consulté le 29/10/2024 06:12).

The Foli@ online digital heritage library is here:

https://ged.biu-montpellier.fr/florabium/jsp/portal/index_patrimoine.jsp

Copyright SCDI-UPV - Collections Université de Montpellier (shelfmark H 258).

The letter:

all'Jmp[erato]re.

6 Gen[naro] 86.

Vacando il Ves[cova]to di Croatia di rito greco la cui nomina spetto à V M C Jo la racc[omando] q[ua]nto posso più vivam[en]te. l'Arcives[covo] di Paronaxia Theofano Maurocordato p[er]che voglia come piacersi di Nominarlo p[er] il detto Ves[cova]to in considerat[io]ne de Seruizij da lui prestati con molto frutto Spirituale [...] nella [...] dell'Arcives[covato] di Strigonia; onde prego la M V C à [...] q[ues]to premio assicurandola dell'obligo ch'io stessa le ne professerò ed int[eso] mi ratifi[co]

d V M C.

Aff[ettuosissi]ma Sorella

With modernised spelling:

All'imperatore.

6 gennaro '86.

Vacando il vescovato di Croazia di rito greco la cui nomina spetto a Vostra Maestà Cesarea io la raccomando quanto posso più vivamente l'arcivescovo di Paronaxia, Teofano Maurocordato, perché voglia come piacersi di nominarlo per il detto vescovato in considerazione de servigi da lui prestati con molto frutto spirituale [...] nella [...] dell'arcivescovato di Strigonia; onde prego la Maestà Vostra Cesarea a [...] questo premio, assicurandola dell'obbligo ch'io stessa le ne professerò, ed inteso mi ratifico

di Vostra Maestà Cesarea

affettuosissima Sorella.

Above: Kristina.

Above: Leopold I, Holy Roman Emperor.

Note: Strigonia is the old name for what is now the diocese of Esztergom in northern Hungary.

Kristina's letter to Eleonora Gonzaga, Holy Roman Empress consort, thanking her for the sending of some literary compositions, dated December 5/15 (New Style), 1668

Source:

Bibliothèque interuniversitaire (Montpellier); Manuscrits de la reine Christine; Lettere della regina a principi; Lettere all imperatrice; Lettres à l'impératrice Eléonore; Christine de Suède à l'impératrice Eléonore, Rome, 15 décembre 1668 (digitisation page 74v-75r)

https://calames.abes.fr/pub/#details?id=Calames-20191125911587146

Christine (1626-1689 ; reine de Suède), Manuscrits de la reine Christine : Lettere della regina a principi, 1601-1700.

[En ligne sur https://ged.scdi-montpellier.fr/florabium45/jsp/nodoc.jsp?NODOC=2023_DOC_MONT_MBUM_92] (consulté le 28/10/2024 05:46).

The Foli@ online digital heritage library is here:

https://ged.biu-montpellier.fr/florabium/jsp/portal/index_patrimoine.jsp

Copyright SCDI-UPV - Collections Université de Montpellier (shelfmark H 258).

The letter:

Ser[enissi]ma Jmp[eratri]ce Sig[nor]a Sorella mia amat[issi]ma. Hò riceuute con la lett[er]a di V. M. C. le compositioni ch'ella Si è compiaciuta mandarmi e le hò trovate belle, Spiritose, e degne della M. V C. alla quale ne rendo grazie e Se mi fauorirá di dar ordine che me ne Sia continuata la Communicatione Jo Sarò tenuta alla M. V. C. non[di]meno del divertimento, e del gusto, che ne riceuerò, che dell'occasione che mi Si darà d'imparare, e di palesar à V. M. più frequentem[en]te quanto iò brami di nutrir Seco vna cordial corrispondenza, e vera amicizia, e mi confermo

D V M C

Aff[ettuosissi]ma Sorella

Roma 15 Dec[embr]e 1668

With modernised spelling:

Serenissima imperatrice,

Signora Sorella mia amatissima,

Ho ricevute con la lettera di Vostra Maestà Cesarea le compositioni ch'ella si è compiaciuta mandarmi e le ho trovate belle, spiritose e degne della Maestà Vostra Cesarea, alla quale ne rendo grazie. E se mi favorirà di dar ordine che me ne sia continuata la comunicazione, io sarò tenuta alla Maestà Vostra Cesarea non[di]meno del divertimento e del gusto che ne riceverò che dell'occasione che mi si darà d'imparare e di palesar a Vostra Maestà più frequentemente quanto io brami di nutrir seco una cordial corrispondenza e vera amicizia; e mi confermo

di Vostra Maestà Cesarea

affettuosissima Sorella.

Roma, 15 dicembre 1668.

French translation (my own):

Sérénissime Impératrice,

Madame ma très aimée Sœur,

J'ai reçu avec la lettre de Votre Majesté Impériale les compositions qu'elle a bien voulu m'envoyer, et je les ai trouvées belles, spirituelles et dignes de Votre Majesté Impériale, à qui j'en rends grâces. Et si vous me permettez de donner ordre qu'on en continue la communication, je serai obligée à Votre Majesté Impériale non moins de la jouissance et du plaisir que j'en recevrai que de l'occasion qui me sera donnée d'apprendre et de révéler plus fréquemment à Votre Majesté combien je désire entretenir avec elle une correspondance cordiale et une véritable amitié; et je reste

de Votre Majesté Impériale

la très affectionnée Sœur.

Rome, le 15 décembre 1668.

Swedish translation (my own):

Durchlauchtigste kejsarinna,

Min hjärtanskära Fru Syster,

Jag har mottagit tillsammans med Ers Kejserliga Majestäts brev de kompositioner som Ni med glädje har sänt mig, och jag har funnit dem vackra, kvicka och värdiga Ers Kejserliga Majestät, till vilken jag tackar. Och om Ni vill gynna mig att ge order om att kommunikationen av dem skall fortsätta, så kommer jag att vara skyldig till Ers Kejserliga Majestät inte mindre för den njutning och det nöje som jag kommer att få av dem än för det tillfälle som kommer att ges mig att förnimma och att oftare avslöja för Ers Majestät hur mycket jag önskar att ge näring till Er med en hjärtlig korrespondens och sann vänskap; och jag förblir

Ers Kejserliga Majestäts

tillgivnaste Syster.

Rom, den 15 december 1668.

English translation (my own):

Most Serene Empress,

My most beloved Lady Sister,

I have received along with Your Imperial Majesty's letter the compositions that you have been pleased to send me, and I have found them beautiful, witty and worthy of Your Imperial Majesty, to whom I give thanks. And if you will favour me to give orders that the communication of them be continued, I will be obliged to Your Imperial Majesty no less for the enjoyment and pleasure that I will receive from them than for the occasion that will be given to me to learn and to reveal to Your Majesty more frequently how much I desire to nourish with you a cordial correspondence and true friendship; and I remain

Your Imperial Majesty's

most affectionate Sister.

Rome, December 15, 1668.

Above: Kristina.

Above: Eleonora Gonzaga, Holy Roman Empress consort.

Note: The sending of the compositions certainly would have made the perfect early birthday present for Kristina, who would turn 42 on December 8/18, 1668.

Kristina's letter to Eleonora Gonzaga, Holy Roman Empress consort, on the occasion of the Swedish resident H. H. von Gebsattel's departure for Vienna, dated July 16/26 (New Style), 1668

Source:

Bibliothèque interuniversitaire (Montpellier); Manuscrits de la reine Christine; Lettere della regina a principi; Lettere all imperatrice; Lettres à l'impératrice Eléonore; Christine de Suède à l'impératrice Eléonore, Hambourg, 26 juillet 1668 (digitisation page 72v-73r)

https://calames.abes.fr/pub/#details?id=Calames-20191125911587145

Christine (1626-1689 ; reine de Suède), Manuscrits de la reine Christine : Lettere della regina a principi, 1601-1700.

[En ligne sur https://ged.scdi-montpellier.fr/florabium45/jsp/nodoc.jsp?NODOC=2023_DOC_MONT_MBUM_92] (consulté le 28/10/2024 05:26).

The Foli@ online digital heritage library is here:

https://ged.biu-montpellier.fr/florabium/jsp/portal/index_patrimoine.jsp

Copyright SCDI-UPV - Collections Université de Montpellier (shelfmark H 258).

The letter:

Madame ma Soeur, Le Resident de Suede S'en allant à la Cour de Vienne pour Vacquer à Sa charge me donne occasion de renoveller mes amities à V. M. Jmp[eriale]. pour luy faire connoistre que J'embrasse auec ioye et promptitude les occasions de luy rendre mes Soins. la Coniurant de m'honnorer de la continuation de Son amitie dont elle m'a tousiours Voulù donner de Si obligeantes marques Je proteste à V. M. que Je suis auec Sinceritè entiere

Madame ma Soeur

V[ost]re bonne Soeur

C. A.

Hamb[ourg] ce 26 Juillet 68 —

With modernised spelling:

Madame ma Sœur,

Le résident de Suède s'en allant à la cour de Vienne pour vaquer à sa charge me donne occasion de renouveler mes amitiés à Votre Majesté Impériale pour lui faire connaître que j'embrasse avec joie et promptitude les occasions de lui rendre mes soins, la conjurant de m'honorer de la continuation de son amitié, dont elle m'a toujours voulu donner de si obligeantes marques. Je proteste à Votre Majesté que je suis avec sincérité entière,

Madame ma Sœur,

votre bonne Sœur

C. A.

Hambourg, ce 26 juillet '68. —

Swedish translation (my own):

Min Fru Syster,

Den resident i Sverige som går till hovet i Wien för att sköta sina plikter ger mig möjlighet att förnya mina vänskapsband med Ers Kejserliga Majestät, för att låta Er veta att jag med glädje och skyndsamhet omfamnar möjligheterna att ge Er mina bekymmer, bedjande Er att hedra mig med fortsättningen av Er vänskap, av vilken Ni ju alltid har velat ge mig sådana förpliktande betygelser. Jag försäkrar Ers Majestät att jag är med full uppriktighet,

min Fru Syster,

Er goda Syster

K. A.

Hamburg, den 26 juli '68. —

English translation (my own):

My Lady Sister,

The resident of Sweden going to the court of Vienna to attend to his duties gives me the opportunity to renew my friendships to Your Imperial Majesty, to let you know that I embrace with joy and promptness the opportunities to render my cares to you, begging you to honour me with the continuation of your friendship, of which you have always wanted to give me such obliging marks. I protest to Your Majesty that I am with entire sincerity,

my Lady Sister,

your good Sister

K. A.

Hamburg, July 26, '68. —

Above: Kristina.

Above: Eleonora Gonzaga, Holy Roman Empress consort.

Note: In accordance with the nobility's ideals in the early modern era, kings and queens considered themselves siblings.

Article on Kristina in the 1911 edition of Encyclopædia Britannica

Source:

Encyclopædia Britannica, volume 6, by Robert Nisbet Bain, 1911

https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/1911_Encyclop%C3%A6dia_Britannica/Christina_of_Sweden

The article:

CHRISTINA (1626-1689), queen of Sweden, daughter of Gustavus Adolphus and Maria Eleonora of Brandenburg, was born at Stockholm on the 8th of December 1626. Her father died when she was only six years old. She was educated, principally, by the learned Johannes Matthiae, in as masculine a way as possible, while the great Oxenstjerna himself instructed her in politics. Christina assumed the sceptre in her eighteenth year (Dec. 8, 1644). From the moment when she took her seat at the head of the council board she impressed her veteran counsellors with the conviction of her superior genius. Axel Oxenstjerna himself said of her, when she was only fifteen: "Her majesty is not like women-folk, but is stout-hearted and of a good understanding, so that, if she be not corrupted, we have good hopes of her." Unfortunately her brilliant and commanding qualities were vitiated by an inordinate pride and egoism, which exhibited themselves in an utter contempt for public opinion, and a prodigality utterly regardless of the necessities of the state. She seemed to consider Swedish affairs as far too petty to occupy her full attention; while her unworthy treatment of the great chancellor was mainly due to her jealousy of his extraordinary reputation and to the uneasy conviction that, so long as he was alive, his influence must at least be equal to her own. Recognizing that he would be indispensable so long as the Thirty Years' War lasted, she used every effort to bring it to an end; and her impulsive interference seriously hampered the diplomacy of the chancellor, and materially reduced the ultimate gains of Sweden. The general peace congress was not opened till April 1645. The Swedish plenipotentiaries were Johan Oxenstjerna, the chancellor's son, and Adler Salvius. From the first the relations between them were strained. Young Oxenstjerna, haughty and violent, claimed, by right of birth and rank, to be caput legationis. The chancellor, at home, took his son's part, while Salvius was warmly supported by Christina, who privately assured him of her exclusive favour and encouraged him to hold his own. So acute did the quarrel become that there was a violent scene in full senate between the queen and the chancellor; and she urged Salvius to accelerate the negotiations, against the better judgment of the chancellor, who hoped to get more by holding out longer.

The longer Christina ruled, the more anxious for the future fate of her empire grew the men who had helped to build it up. Yet she gave fresh privileges to the towns; she encouraged trade and manufactures, especially the mining industries of the Dales; in 1649 she issued the first school ordinance for the whole kingdom; she encouraged foreign scholars to settle in Sweden; and native science and literature, under her liberal encouragement, flourished as they had never flourished before. In one respect, too, she showed herself wiser than her wisest counsellors. The senate and the estates, naturally anxious about the succession to the throne, had repeatedly urged her majesty to marry, and had indicated her cousin, Charles Gustavus, as her most befitting consort. Wearied of their importunities, yet revolting at the idea of submission to any member of the opposite sex, Christina settled the difficulty by appointing Charles and his heirs male. In the summer of 1651 Christina was, with difficulty, persuaded to reconsider her resolution to abdicate, but three years later the nation had become convinced that her abdication was highly desirable, and the solemn act took place on the 6th of June 1654 at the castle of Upsala, in the presence of the estates and the great dignitaries of the realm. Many were the causes which predisposed her to what was, after all, anything but an act of self-renunciation. First of all she could not fail to remark the increasing discontent with her arbitrary and wasteful ways. Within ten years she had created 17 counts, 46 barons and 428 lesser nobles; and, to provide these new peers with adequate appanages, she had sold or mortgaged crown property representing an annual income of 1,200,000 rix-dollars. Signs are also not wanting that Christina was growing weary of the cares of government; while the importunity of the senate and Riksdag on the question of her marriage was a constant source of irritation. In retirement she could devote herself wholly to art and science, and the opportunity of astonishing the world by the unique spectacle of a great queen, in the prime of life, voluntarily resigning her crown, strongly appealed to her vivid imagination. Anyhow, it is certain that, towards the end of her reign, she behaved as if she were determined to do everything in her power to make herself as little missed as possible. From 1651 there was a notable change in her behaviour. She cast away every regard for the feelings and prejudices of her people. She ostentatiously exhibited her contempt for the Protestant religion. Her foreign policy was flighty to the verge of foolishness. She contemplated an alliance with Spain, a state quite outside the orbit of Sweden's influence, the first fruits of which were to have been an invasion of Portugal. She utterly neglected affairs in order to plunge into a whirl of dissipation with her foreign favourites. The situation became impossible, and it was with an intense feeling of relief that the Swedes saw her depart, in masculine attire, under the name of Count Dohna. At Innsbruck she openly joined the Catholic Church, and was rechristened Alexandra. In 1656, and again in 1657, she visited France, on the second occasion ordering the assassination of her major-domo Monaldeschi, a crime still unexplained. Twice she returned to Sweden (1660 and 1667) in the vain hope of recovering the succession, finally settling in Rome, where she died on the 19th of April 1689, poor, neglected and forgotten.

Letter to Kristina from Gerardus Johannes Vossius, dated October 1648

Sources:

Gerardi Joannis Vossii et clarorum virorum ad eum epistolæ, pages 8 to 10, published by Paul Colomiés, 1690

https://books.google.com/books?id=D2JEAAAAcAAJ&newbks=1&newbks_redir=0&dq=gerardus+vossius+epistolae&source=gbs_navlinks_s

Mémoires concernant Christine, volume 2, pages 31 to 32 (appendix), Johan Arckenholtz, 1751

https://books.google.com/books?id=Fef0dKNmyggC&dq=reine%20christine%20de%20suède%20ferrario%20savant%20d%27italie%201653%20lettre&source=gbs_book_other_versions

The letter:

Serenissimæ & Sapientissimæ Christinæ.

Non dubito, Serenissima Regina, quin plerique, qui prolixum tuum erga me favorem, & beneficientiam norunt, valdè mirentur, nullum me hactenus grati animi signum ostendisse, cùm tamen innumexi, quos nunquam obstrinxeris, in remotissimis etiam terrarum oris, virtutes tuas uno ore laudent, celebrent, & in cœlum certatim evehant. Si vel insita quædam ignavia, vel aliud animi vitium, tam diuturni esset causa silentii; tantùm abest, ut delicti peterem veniam; ut ultrò potiùs à te pœnam criminis efflagitatem. Sed me quàm longissimè ab hac culpa abesse, nemo potest ignorare, cui & mores mei, & ingenii mensura fuerit cognita. Si nunquam præsens essem contemplatus ea, quæ totus de te terrarum Orbis prædicat, miracula; fidentius aliquanto exigente necessitate, sermonem de te instituerem. Nunc verò cum videam ea ipsa, quæ de te jactantur, longè esse infra gloriam tuam, cum omnem prorsus famam virtute excesseris; eò sum redactus, Divina & Incomparabilis Regina, ut neque loqui, neque tacere de te possim. Vetat eximia illa erga me etiam immerentem benignitas, ut taceam; alterum verò & magnitudo tua, & ingenii mei prohibet tenuitas: Sed tamen si unquam turpe fuerit aliis siluisse, cùm loquendi urgeret necessitas; mihi longè fuerit turpissimum. Ingratus merito, vel malignus habear, si destitutus ea dicendi facultate, quæ tantæ convenit Majestati, non illa saltem proferam, quæ possim. Quod itaque te alloquar, non hoc facio fretus viribus, aut ingenio meo, neque enim me mea fugit imbecillitas, sed saltem, ut, si quod tacendo crimen incurrerim, illud omne loquendo diluam, & repellam. Nec tamen ideo silentium rumpo, ut laudes tuas aggrediar; faciunt hoc ii, qui vel sunt, vel sibi videntur facundi, & diserti, à me enim uti virtus illa, ita etiam altera ista procul abest vanitas: hoc saltem peto, & obsecro, ut benigna & serena fronte munus, quod offero, suscipias, nec indignè feras, quod post tam longam moram, aliena pro meis audeam exhibere. Quamvis ut rectiùs loquar, tuum est, Domina, non alienum, id quod tibi consecro opus: Tibi quippe vivens destinârat Pater meus, tibi etiam moriens ultimis, reliquit ceris. Sive tamen tuum sit, sive non, accipiendo id facies tuum, eritque, ut opinor, non minus gratum, quàm si meum esset, imo etiam gratius, quoniam & melius. Argumentum operis quod attinet, ne hoc spero, adspernabere; continet enim ætatem, & scripta eorum, quos tu libenter à mortalitate una cum suis monumentis, si per fata liceret, adsereres. Vereor autem, Domina, ne plus doloris, quàm voluptatis hic tibi adferat liber; fieri enim non potest, ut non quam gravissimè commovearis, si in tot Veteris Græciæ lumina, tot præclaros, & inæstimabiles Thesauros, avaros illos tuos & insatiabiles conjeceris oculos. Nudam quippe Scriptorum famam, solos laborum titulos, & quædam quasi humanæ sapientiæ naufragia hic conspicies. Nihil hic Theopompi, nihil Timæi, nihil denique Ephori, præter nomen: periere omnes, & quod maximè dolendum, periere sine posteritate. Neque hoc ideò à me dicitur, quod iniquè de Historicorum hujus seculi sentiam ingeniis, ut non illa etiam ea qua debeam æstimatione prosequar; sunto illi quod voluerint, dummodò sciant, multum se abesse à sublimitate Veterum, & quantum ipsi plebem superant intellectu, tantumdem se ab illis superari. Quamvis autem ejus rei causam reddere, non sit difficile, quid tamen opus eam multis explicare, cùm eventus ipse manifestè id docuerit? Quis responderit stulto, quærenti, quare desipiat, nisi qui & ipse, pro stulto velit haberi? falsum verò est, quod quidam opinantur, ex quo desierint esse Heroes, desiisse etiam eos, qui facta eorum memoriæ, & posteritati traderent. Cui non Veterum Heroum comparandus gloriosissimus tuus Parens? Quis non illum Regum, Principumque omnium diceret Maximum, nisi Majorem se genuisset filiam? Nullus tamen quod sciam, facinora ejus toto Orbe, & omnibus seculis memoranda, vel potuit, vel ausus est, literis, & æternitati consecrare. Hinc adparet hodiernis Sciptoribus, non deesse argumentum, verùm ipsos deesse argumento. Qua quidem in re uti, & in cæteris fermè, planè adversantur priscis, & vetustis Historiæ conditoribus; Illi quippe arte, & industria Heroas ex hominibus faciebant, isti verò culpa ingenii & facundiæ, Heroas, imo ipsos Deos, in homines, & quidem vilissimos, permutant, & transformant. Sed quid ego hic aliorum crimina commemoro, cùm pulcherrimam laudum præ manibus habeam materiam? Invitus, Regina, aliena persequerer vitia, si tuis prædicandis par essem virtutibus: sed eas percensere longè fuerit difficilius, quàm aliorum carpere errores. Labi quidem & errare, res est, ut factu, ita quoque dictu facilis. Tua verò virtus cùm nihil habeat humanum, sed sit prorsus Divina & Immortalis, quis eam aggredi, & exprimere possit nisi cui cœlestis quoque contigerit facundia? Nonne ego eumdem incurrerem errorem, quem paulo ante in aliis reprehendebam, si heroicas, & incomparabiles animi tui dotes, tenuitate styli & eloquii deprimere, & tanquam de cœlo in terram deducere conarer? Permitte, Serenissima Regina, si in me ingrati videatur animi indicium, de virtutibus tuis tacuisse, ne ingratus habear. Malim tu hoc videre, quàm prodere malignitatem, cujus ego manifestè reus peragar, si te modicè, & frigidè (neque enim aliter possim) prædicavero. Licet nihil aliud in te magnum, & memorabile occurret, quàm quod fortunæ, & natalibus debes, esset id tamen majus laude, & præconio nostro: tantùm quippe abest, ut sublimia illa, sceptra & coronas, sermone possim assequi; ut sæpè ne verba quidem succurrant, quibus amicis, & familiaribus meis satisfaciam. Sed verò cùm fortuna, licet illa omnia dederit, minora tamen præsisterit tibi, quàm sint ea, quæ ipsa adquisiveris: quum propria te virtus, etiam supra diadema evexerit; vanus essem, & ineptus, si periculum virium facerem, & verbis attenuare mallem, quàm sacro silentio venerari ea quæ in te certatim concurrunt miracula. Huc accedit, Domina, quod laudare nemo te possit, sine gravissimo aliorum Regum, Principiumque vituperio. Nam sanè etiamsi aliquid prædicatione dignum in his sese offerat, id tua obumbrat gloria, vixque eorum supremæ virtutes eò adsurgunt, ubi tuæ incipiunt. Honorificum est illis trium quatuorve linguarum peritiam sibi comparasse. At verò quota hæc est pars tuæ laudis, cum linguas plerasque (barbaras tamen excipio) exactissimè intelligas, multas etiam sermone exprimas, idque tam eleganter, ut ne ipsas etiam Musas elegantiùs, disertiusque posse existimem. Et tamen, ut multas edidiceris linguas, plures tamen sunt, quæ te celebrant. Jam verò quàm in aliis regibus gloriosum habetur, si erga literas, & literarum cultores, benigno, & benevolo fuerint animo? Tu verò, incomparabilis Domina, non solùm literarum amore teneris, verùm etiam tantos in iis progressus fecisti, ut ne doctissimis quidem concedas; Tuæ certè ætatis omnes longè post te reliquisti. Quodnam est enim doctrinæ scientiæque genus, cujus non etiam penitissimos perlustraveris recessus? Poetas quidem & Oratores, qua Græcos, qua Latinos, partim legisse, partim memoriæ mandasse, ludus tibi jocusque fuit. Historiarum eam tibi comparasti cognitionem, qua nec majorem illi, qui totam ætatem huic studio consecrarunt. Illud verò mirandum prorsus, & inauditum, quodque non in Juvenem, nedum in Virginem cadere existimassemus, nisi tu sola exemplo nobis fuisses, evasisse te tam citò ad illa sacra, & abdita Philosophiæ penetralia, ad quæ alli assiduo labore, continuis vigiliis, vix tandem in extrema canitie pervenire potuerunt. Nescimus adhuc, Domina, propriâ ne industriâ, an verò singulari Dei beneficio, tantam sis adepta sapientiam. Quamvis enim rapido, concitatoque ingenio, annos & ætatem tuam præcurras: Quamvis etiam ea sis diligentia, ut nullum tibi tempus frustrà effluat; & licet te quieti tradas, cùm demùm major noctium pars præterierit, nunquam te tamen aurora dormientem deprehenderit; vix tamen patitur imbecillitas humana, ut tantum scientiarum, rerumque usum tam subitò, & inter tot regni negotia adquirere, & comparare tibi potueris: Cœlo necesse est tam cœleste ad te pervenerit donum; neque enim ex sola Platonis, Plotini, similiumve institutione tanta repentè prodiisses. Sed quid attinet quærere cœlitusne infusum, an verò labore partum sit, id quod in te passim colimus, & admiramur, dum cœleste, & immortale id esse fateamur? Cesset itaque curiosa nimium, & inutilis illa inquisitio, cesset etiam omnis laus; cùm laudare non possumus, id quod quale sit, & unde habeas, ignoremus; sed tamen cùm Divinum id esse agnoscamus, permitte ut te adoremus. Si enim unquam honor, cultusque divinus sine crimine, & errore cuiquam conferri debuerit, debuit tibi, incomparabilis, & adoratione dignissima Regina. Merces hæc est exigua, si virtutes tuas, ingentiaque quæ in me contulisti beneficia respicias: Tanta quippe illa sunt, ut etiamsi mihi millies vita, quam dego, recurreret; millies me mors opprimeret, prius quam tuorum erga me meritorum partem, vel minimam deponerem. Sed tamen neque tu majus aliquid expetis, neque ego aliquid majus possim reddere, quàm animum purum, devotum, & intemeratum, quo te æternum colam, venerer, & adorem.

Humillimus Servus,

J. V.

With modernised spelling:

Serenissimæ et sapientissimæ Christinæ,

Non dubito, serenissima regina, quin plerique, qui prolixum tuum erga me favorem, et beneficientiam norunt, valde mirentur, nullum me hactenus grati animi signum ostendisse, cum tamen innumexi, quos nunquam obstrinxeris, in remotissimis etiam terrarum oris, virtutes tuas uno ore laudent, celebrent, et in cœlum certatim evehant. Si vel insita quædam ignavia, vel aliud animi vitium, tam diuturni esset causa silentii, tantum abest, ut delicti peterem veniam; ut ultro potius a te pœnam criminis efflagitatem, sed me quam longissime ab hac culpa abesse, nemo potest ignorare, cui et mores mei, et ingenii mensura fuerit cognita.

Si nunquam præsens essem contemplatus ea, quæ totus de te terrarum orbis prædicat, miracula; fidentius aliquanto exigente necessitate, sermonem de te instituerem. Nunc vero cum videam ea ipsa, quæ de te jactantur, longe esse infra gloriam tuam, cum omnem prorsus famam virtute excesseris; eo sum redactus, divina et incomparabilis regina, ut neque loqui, neque tacere de te possim. Vetat eximia illa erga me etiam immerentem benignitas, ut taceam; alterum vero et magnitudo tua, et ingenii mei prohibet tenuitas.

Sed tamen si unquam turpe fuerit aliis siluisse, cum loquendi urgeret necessitas; mihi longe fuerit turpissimum. Ingratus merito, vel malignus habear, si destitutus ea dicendi facultate, quæ tantæ convenit majestati, non illa saltem proferam, quæ possim.

Quod itaque te alloquar, non hoc facio fretus viribus, aut ingenio meo, neque enim me mea fugit imbecillitas, sed saltem, ut, si quod tacendo crimen incurrerim, illud omne loquendo diluam, et repellam. Nec tamen ideo silentium rumpo, ut laudes tuas aggrediar; faciunt hoc ii, qui vel sunt, vel sibi videntur facundi, et diserti, a me enim uti virtus illa, ita etiam altera ista procul abest vanitas. Hoc saltem peto, et obsecro, ut benigna et serena fronte munus, quod offero, suscipias, nec indigne feras, quod post tam longam moram, aliena pro meis audeam exhibere.

Quamvis ut rectius loquar, tuum est, domina, non alienum, id quod tibi consecro opus. Tibi quippe vivens destinarat pater meus, tibi etiam moriens ultimis, reliquit ceris. Sive tamen tuum sit, sive non, accipiendo id facies tuum, eritque, ut opinor, non minus gratum, quam si meum esset, imo etiam gratius, quoniam et melius. Argumentum operis quod attinet, ne hoc spero, adspernabere; continet enim ætatem, et scripta eorum, quos tu libenter a mortalitate una cum suis monumentis, si per fata liceret, adsereres.

Vereor autem, Domina, ne plus doloris, quam voluptatis hic tibi adferat liber; fieri enim non potest, ut non quam gravissime commovearis, si in tot veteris Græciæ lumina, tot præclaros, et inæstimabiles thesauros, avaros illos tuos et insatiabiles conjeceris oculos. Nudam quippe scriptorum famam, solos laborum titulos, et quædam quasi humanæ sapientiæ naufragia hic conspicies. Nihil hic Theopompi, nihil Timæi, nihil denique Ephori, præter nomen; periere omnes, et quod maxime dolendum, periere sine posteritate.

Neque hoc ideo a me dicitur, quod inique de historicorum hujus seculi sentiam ingeniis, ut non illa etiam ea qua debeam æstimatione prosequar; sunto illi quod voluerint, dummodo sciant, multum se abesse a sublimitate veterum, et quantum ipsi plebem superant intellectu, tantumdem se ab illis superari.

Quamvis autem ejus rei causam reddere, non sit difficile, quid tamen opus eam multis explicare, cum eventus ipse manifeste id docuerit? Quis responderit stulto, quærenti, quare desipiat, nisi qui et ipse, pro stulto velit haberi? Falsum vero est, quod quidam opinantur, ex quo desierint esse heroes, desiisse etiam eos, qui facta eorum memoriæ, et posteritati traderent. Cui non veterum heroum comparandus gloriosissimus tuus parens? Quis non illum regum, principumque omnium diceret maximum, nisi majorem se genuisset filiam?

Nullus tamen quod sciam, facinora ejus toto orbe, et omnibus seculis memoranda, vel potuit, vel ausus est, litteris, et æternitati consecrare. Hinc adparet hodiernis sciptoribus, non deesse argumentum, verum ipsos deesse argumento. Qua quidem in re uti, et in cæteris ferme, plane adversantur priscis, et vetustis historiæ conditoribus; illi quippe arte, et industria heroas ex hominibus faciebant, isti vero culpa ingenii et facundiæ, heroas, imo ipsos deos, in homines, et quidem vilissimos, permutant, et transformant. Sed quid ego hic aliorum crimina commemoro, cum pulcherrimam laudum præ manibus habeam materiam?

Invitus, regina, aliena persequerer vitia, si tuis prædicandis par essem virtutibus; sed eas percensere longe fuerit difficilius, quam aliorum carpere errores. Labi quidem et errare, res est, ut factu, ita quoque dictu facilis. Tua vero virtus cum nihil habeat humanum, sed sit prorsus divina et immortalis, quis eam aggredi, et exprimere possit nisi cui cœlestis quoque contigerit facundia? Nonne ego eumdem incurrerem errorem, quem paulo ante in aliis reprehendebam, si heroicas, et incomparabiles animi tui dotes, tenuitate styli et eloquii deprimere, et tanquam de cœlo in terram deducere conarer?

Permitte, serenissima regina, si in me ingrati videatur animi indicium, de virtutibus tuis tacuisse, ne ingratus habear. Malim tu hoc videre, quam prodere malignitatem, cujus ego manifeste reus peragar, si te modice et frigide (neque enim aliter possim) prædicavero. Licet nihil aliud in te magnum, et memorabile occurret, quam quod fortunæ, et natalibus debes, esset id tamen majus laude, et præconio nostro; tantum quippe abest, ut sublimia illa, sceptra et coronas, sermone possim assequi; ut sæpe ne verba quidem succurrant, quibus amicis, et familiaribus meis satisfaciam.

Sed vero cum fortuna, licet illa omnia dederit, minora tamen præsisterit tibi, quam sint ea, quæ ipsa adquisiveris; quum propria te virtus, etiam supra diadema evexerit; vanus essem, et ineptus, si periculum virium facerem, et verbis attenuare mallem, quam sacro silentio venerari ea quæ in te certatim concurrunt miracula. Huc accedit, domina, quod laudare nemo te possit, sine gravissimo aliorum regum, principiumque vituperio. Nam sane etiamsi aliquid prædicatione dignum in his sese offerat, id tua obumbrat gloria, vixque eorum supremæ virtutes eo adsurgunt, ubi tuæ incipiunt.

Honorificum est illis trium quatuorve linguarum peritiam sibi comparasse. At vero quota hæc est pars tuæ laudis, cum linguas plerasque (barbaras tamen excipio) exactissime intelligas, multas etiam sermone exprimas, idque tam eleganter, ut ne ipsas etiam Musas elegantius, disertiusque posse existimem. Et tamen, ut multas edidiceris linguas, plures tamen sunt, quæ te celebrant.

Jam vero quam in aliis regibus gloriosum habetur, si erga litteras, et litterarum cultores, benigno, et benevolo fuerint animo? Tu vero, incomparabilis domina, non solum literarum amore teneris, verum etiam tantos in iis progressus fecisti, ut ne doctissimis quidem concedas; tuæ certe ætatis omnes longe post te reliquisti.

Quodnam est enim doctrinæ scientiæque genus, cujus non etiam penitissimos perlustraveris recessus? Poetas quidem et oratores, qua græcos, qua latinos, partim legisse, partim memoriæ mandasse, ludus tibi jocusque fuit. Historiarum eam tibi comparasti cognitionem, qua nec majorem illi, qui totam ætatem huic studio consecrarunt.

Illud vero mirandum prorsus, et inauditum, quodque non in juvenem, nedum in virginem cadere existimassemus, nisi tu sola exemplo nobis fuisses, evasisse te tam cito ad illa sacra, et abdita philosophiæ penetralia, ad quæ alli assiduo labore, continuis vigiliis, vix tandem in extrema canitie pervenire potuerunt.

Nescimus adhuc, domina, propria ne industria, an vero singulari Dei beneficio, tantam sis adepta sapientiam. Quamvis enim rapido, concitatoque ingenio, annos et ætatem tuam præcurras; quamvis etiam ea sis diligentia, ut nullum tibi tempus frustra effluat; et licet te quieti tradas, cum demum major noctium pars præterierit, nunquam te tamen aurora dormientem deprehenderit. Vix tamen patitur imbecillitas humana, ut tantum scientiarum, rerumque usum tam subito, et inter tot regni negotia adquirere, et comparare tibi potueris. Cœlo necesse est tam cœleste ad te pervenerit donum; neque enim ex sola Platonis, Plotini, similiumve institutione tanta repente prodiisses.

Sed quid attinet quærere cœlitusne infusum, an vero labore partum sit, id quod in te passim colimus, et admiramur, dum cœleste, et immortale id esse fateamur? Cesset itaque curiosa nimium, et inutilis illa inquisitio, cesset etiam omnis laus; cum laudare non possumus, id quod quale sit, et unde habeas, ignoremus; sed tamen cum divinum id esse agnoscamus, permitte ut te adoremus. Si enim unquam honor, cultusque divinus sine crimine, et errore cuiquam conferri debuerit, debuit tibi, incomparabilis, et adoratione dignissima regina.

Merces hæc est exigua, si virtutes tuas, ingentiaque quæ in me contulisti beneficia respicias. Tanta quippe illa sunt, ut etiamsi mihi millies vita, quam dego, recurreret; millies me mors opprimeret, prius quam tuorum erga me meritorum partem, vel minimam deponerem. Sed tamen neque tu majus aliquid expetis, neque ego aliquid majus possim reddere, quam animum purum, devotum, et intemeratum, quo te æternum colam, venerer, et adorem.

Humillimus servus

Johannes Vossius.

Arckenholtz's abridged transcript of the letter:

Serenissima & Sapientissima Regina.

Etc. &c. Licet nihil aliud in Te magnum & memorabile occurret, quam quod fortunæ & natalibus debes, esset id tamen majus laude, & præconio nostro: tantum quippe abest, ut sublimia illa, sceptra & coronas, sermone possim assequi, ut sæpe ne verba quidem succurrant, quibus amicis & familiaribus meis satisfaciam. Sed vero cum fortuna licet illa omnia dederit, minora tamen præsisterit Tibi, quam sint ea, quæ ipsa adquisiveris, quum propria Te virtus, etiam supra diadema evexerit; vanus essem & ineptus, si periculum virium facerem, & verbis attentare mallem, quam sacro silentio venerari ea, quæ in Te certatim concurrunt miracula. Huc accedit, Domina, quod, laudare nemo te possit, sine gravissimo aliorum Regum. Principiumque vituperio. Nam sane etiamsi aliquid prædicatione dignum in his sese offerat, id tua ohumbrat gloria, vixque eorum supremæ virtutes eo adsurgunt, ubi tuæ incipiunt. Honorificum est illis trium quatuorve linguarum peritiam sibi comparasse. Et vero quota hæc est pars tuæ laudis, cum linguas plerasque (barbaras tamen excipio) exactissime intelligas, multas etiam sermone exprimas, idque tam eleganter, ut ne ipsas etiam Musas elegantius, disertiusque posse existimem. Et tamen, ut multas edidiceris linguas, plures tamen sunt, quæ te celebrant. Jam vero quam in aliis Regibus gloriosum habetur, si erga literas & literarum cultores, benigno & benevolo fuerint animo? Tu vero incomparabilis Domina, non solum literarum amore teneris, verum etiam tantos in iis progressus fecisti, ut ne doctissimis quidem concedas; Tuæ certe ætatis, omnes longe post Te reliquisti. Quodnam est enim Doctrinæ Scientiæque genus, cujus non etiam penitissimos perlustraveris recessus? Poëtas & Oratores, quà Graecos, quà Latinos, partim legisse, partim memoriae mandasse ludus Tibi jocusque fuit. Historiarum eam tibi comparasti cognitionem, qua nec majorem illi, qui totam ætatem huic studio consecrarunt. Illud vero mirandum prorsus, & inauditum, quodque non in juvenem, nedum in virginem cadere existimassemus, nisi Tu sola exemplo nobis fuisses, evasisse te tam cito ad illa sacra & abdita Philosophiæ penetralia, ad quae alli assiduo labore, continuis vigillis, vix tandem in extrema canitie pervenire potuerunt. Nescimus adhuc, Domina, propriane industria, an vero singulari Dei beneficio tantam sis adepta sapientiam? Quamvis enim rapido, concitatoque ingenio, annos ad ætatem tuam præcurras: quamvis etiam ea sis diligentia, ut nullum tibi tempus frustra effluat; & licet te quieti tradas, cum demum major noctium pars præterierit, numquam te tamen aurora dormientem deprehenderit, vix tamen patitur imbecillitas humana, ut tantum scientiarium rerumque usum tam subito, & inter tot regni negotia adquirere & comparare tibi potueris. Coelo necesse est tam cæleste ad te pervenerit donum: neque enim ex sola Platonis, Plotini, similiumve institutione tanta repente prodiisses. Sed quid attinet quærere cælitusne infusum, an vero labore partum sit, id quod in te passim colimus, & admiramur, dum cœleste & immortale id esse fatemur? Cesset itaque curiosa nimium, & inutilis illa inquisitio, cesset etiam omnis laus, cum laudare non possumus, id quod quale sit, & unde habeas, ignoremus; sed tamen cum divinum id esse agnoscamus, permitte ut te adoremus. Si enim unquam honor, cultusque divinus sine crimine, & errore cuiquam conferri debuerit, debuit Tibi, incomparabilis & adoratione dignissima Regina. Merces hæc est exigua, si virtutes tuas ingentiaque quæ in me contulisti beneficia respicias: tanta quippe illa sunt, ut etiamsi mihi millies vita, quam dego, recurrerat: millies me mort opprimeret priusquam tuorum erga me meritorum partem, vel minimam deponerem: sed tamen neque tu majus aliquid expetis, neque ergo aliquid majus possim reddere, quam animum purum, devotum & intemeratum, quo te æternum colam, venerer & adorem.

humillimus servus

G. J. VOSSIUS.

French translation (my own):

Sérénissime et très savante Christine,

Je ne doute pas, sérénissime reine, que la plupart des gens qui connaissent votre faveur et votre bienfaisance prolongées envers moi, ne soient très surpris de ce que je n'aie jusqu'ici montré aucun signe de reconnaissance; cependant, lorsque j'ai ennobli ceux que vous n'avez jamais méprisés, même dans les parties les plus reculées du monde, ils louent vos vertus d'une seule bouche, les célèbrent et les élèvent au ciel en compétition. Si quelque paresse innée ou quelque autre défaut d'esprit devait être la cause d'un si long silence, il est si loin de moi que je puisse demander pardon de l'offense, que je vous infligerais plutôt la punition flagrante du crime. Mais que je sois aussi éloigné que possible de cette faute, personne ne peut l'ignorer, à qui l'on a connu et mes manières et la mesure de mon caractère.

Si je n'avais jamais été présent et contemplé ces miracles que le monde entier prêche à votre sujet avec plus de confiance et avec une certaine exigence de nécessité, j'engagerais une conversation à votre sujet. Maintenant, cependant, quand je vois que les choses mêmes dont on se vante de vous sont bien au-dessous de votre gloire, comme vous avez complètement surpassé toute renommée en vertu, je suis si réduite, divine et incomparable reine, que je ne peux ni parler ni me taire à votre sujet. Cette bonté extraordinaire envers moi, qui s'enfonce déjà en moi, m'interdit de garder le silence; la seconde chose m'est cependant empêchée, à la fois par votre grandeur et par la faiblesse de mon talent.

Cependant, s'il a jamais été honteux pour d'autres de rester silencieux lorsque la nécessité de parler était pressante, cela a été de loin la chose la plus honteuse pour moi. Je serais considéré comme ingrat ou malveillant si on me privait de la faculté de parler, qui sied si bien à la majesté. Je dirai au moins ce que je peux.

Ce que je vous adresse donc, je ne m'appuie ni sur mes forces ni sur mon esprit, car ma faiblesse ne m'échappe pas, mais au moins afin que, si en me taisant j'encoure quelque crime, je le dilue tout en parlant, et par là même le chasse. Et pourtant, je ne romps pas mon silence pour attaquer vos éloges. Ceux qui le font sont ceux qui le peuvent ou qui le croient et qui savent le faire. J'utilise donc cette vertu pour que toute autre vanité soit aussi éloignée. C'est cela au moins que je vous demande, et je vous supplie, d'un visage doux et serein, d'accepter le présent que je vous offre, et de ne pas le supporter indignement, celui qu'après un si long délai j'ose présenter à un étranger à ma place.

Quoique, pour parler plus directement, ce soient vos éloges, Madame, et non ceux d'une autre, que je dois vous procurer. Mon père l'avait destiné à vous de son vivant, et quand il est mort, il vous a aussi laissé la cire. Cependant, qu'elle soit à vous ou non, en l'acceptant, vous la rendrez vôtre, et elle ne sera pas, à mon avis, moins acceptable que si elle était à moi — non, même plus acceptable, car elle est encore meilleure. Quant à l'argumentation de l'ouvrage, je n'espère pas qu'elle soit vaine, car elle contient l'âge et les écrits de ceux que vous préserveriez volontiers de la mortalité avec leurs monuments, si le destin le permettait.

Je crains, Madame, que ce livre ne vous apporte plus de peine que de plaisir, car il est impossible de ne pas être profondément ému, si vous jetez vos yeux avares et insatiables sur tant de lumières de la Grèce antique, sur tant de trésors splendides et inestimables. Car vous ne verrez ici que la simple réputation des écrivains, seulement les titres de leurs travaux, et quelque chose comme le naufrage de la sagesse humaine. Il n'y a ici rien de Théopompe, rien de Timée, rien enfin d'Éphore, sinon le nom; qu'ils périssent tous, et que ce qu'il y a de plus regrettable périsse sans postérité.

Je ne dis pas cela parce que je suis injuste envers les talents des historiens de notre époque, et que je ne les recherche même pas dans l'estime qui m'est due. Qu'ils soient ce qu'ils veulent, pourvu qu'ils sachent qu'ils sont bien loin de la sublimité des anciens, et qu'autant ils surpassent eux-mêmes le commun des mortels en intelligence, autant ils les surpassent.

Et bien qu'il ne soit pas difficile de donner la cause de ce fait, quel besoin y a-t-il de l'expliquer à plusieurs, lorsque l'événement lui-même l'enseigne clairement? Qui répondra à l'insensé qui lui demande pourquoi il devrait être détrompé, à moins qu'il ne veuille lui-même passer pour un insensé? Il est faux en effet que certains pensent que lorsqu'ils ont cessé d'être des héros, ils ont également cessé d'être ceux qui transmettraient leurs actes à leur mémoire et à la postérité. A qui votre parent le plus glorieux sera-t-il comparé parmi les héros d'autrefois? Qui ne l'appellerait pas le plus grand des rois et le chef de tous s'il n'avait pas donné naissance à une fille plus grande que lui?

Cependant, personne, que je sache, n'a pu, ni n'a osé, consacrer ses exploits au monde entier, et à tous les âges, dans des lettres et pour l'éternité. Il apparaît donc aux sceptres d'aujourd'hui que ce ne sont pas les arguments qui manquent, mais qu'ils manquent eux-mêmes d'arguments. En vérité, en cette matière, comme en presque toutes les autres, ils s'opposent clairement aux anciens fondateurs de l'histoire, car ils ont fait des hommes des héros par l'art et l'industrie; mais eux, par la faute du génie et de l'habileté, échangent et transforment les héros, voire les dieux eux-mêmes, en hommes, et en vérité les plus vils. Mais pourquoi devrais-je ici mentionner les crimes des autres, alors que j'ai sous les mains la matière des plus belles louanges?

A contrecœur, ma reine, je poursuivrais les vices des autres si j'étais à la hauteur de vos vertus prêcheuses, mais il était bien plus difficile de les considérer que de relever les erreurs des autres. En effet, commettre une erreur ou un faux pas est une chose, en fait, aussi facile que de parler. Mais parce que votre vertu n'a rien d'humain, mais est absolument divine et immortelle, qui peut l'attaquer et l'exprimer, à moins que cela n'arrive à quelqu'un qui est aussi céleste? Ne tomberais-je pas dans la même erreur que j'ai critiquée il y a peu de temps chez les autres, si j'essayais de déprimer les talents héroïques et incomparables de votre esprit par la finesse de mon style et de mon discours, et de les faire descendre, pour ainsi dire, du ciel sur la terre?

Permettez-moi, sérénissime reine, s'il apparaît en moi quelque signe d'un esprit ingrat, de garder le silence sur vos vertus, afin que je ne sois pas considéré comme ingrat. Vous aimeriez mieux voir cela plutôt que de trahir la malice dont je me rends manifestement coupable si je vous prêche modestement et froidement (car je ne peux pas faire autrement). Quoique rien d'autre de grand et de mémorable ne doive se produire en vous que ce que vous devez à votre fortune et à votre naissance, ce serait encore une plus grande louange et notre prédication, car ce n'est que dans une certaine mesure que je peux atteindre ces sublimités, ces sceptres et ces couronnes par la parole, de sorte que souvent les mots ne viennent même pas au secours de ces amis et de ces parents que je voudrais satisfaire.

Mais quand la fortune, qui vous a donné toutes ces choses, vous en a donné encore moins que celles que vous avez acquises vous-même, quand votre propre vertu vous a élevé même au-dessus du diadème, je serais vain et insensé si je risquais ma force, et j'ai préféré atténuer par des paroles que vénérer dans un silence sacré ces miracles qui rivalisent avec vous. Cela revient à ceci, Madame: personne ne peut vous louer sans les plus graves reproches des autres rois et les vitupérations des princes. Car, en effet, même si l'on s'offre quelque chose qui mérite d'être prêché ici, cela est éclipsé par votre gloire, et leurs plus hautes vertus s'élèvent à peine au point où les vôtres commencent.

C'est un honneur pour eux d'avoir acquis la connaissance de trois ou quatre langues. Mais en vérité, combien cela fait partie de vos éloges, car vous comprenez la plupart des langues (sauf les barbares) avec la plus grande exactitude, et vous en exprimez aussi beaucoup dans la parole, et vous le faites avec tant d'élégance que je ne pense pas que même les Muses elles-mêmes puissent être plus élégantes et plus éloquentes. Et pourtant, comme vous avez parlé de nombreuses langues, il y en a encore d'autres qui vous célèbrent.

Mais qu'y a-t-il de plus glorieux que d'autres rois s'ils ont été bons et bienveillants envers la littérature et les adorateurs de la littérature? Mais vous, incomparable Madame, vous n'êtes pas seulement tenue par l'amour des lettres, mais vous avez fait tant de progrès dans ce domaine que vous ne pouvez même pas en céder aux plus savants. Vous avez certainement laissé loin derrière vous tous ceux de votre âge.

Car quelle est la doctrine et la science dont vous n'avez pas exploré les recoins, même les plus pénitents d'entre eux? Ce fut pour vous un véritable jeu et un amusement de lire des poètes et des orateurs, certains grecs, certains latins, et en partie de mémoire. Vous avez acquis une connaissance de l'histoire qui n'est pas plus grande que celle de ceux qui ont consacré une époque entière à cette étude.

C'est vraiment surprenant et inouï, et nous n'aurions pas pensé que cela arriverait à un jeune homme, et encore moins à une vierge, si vous n'aviez pas été notre seul exemple, que vous ayez pu vous échapper si vite vers ces profondeurs sacrées et cachées de la philosophie qu'ils pouvaient à peine atteindre enfin dans les extrémités de la vieillesse par un travail constant et des veilles continuelles.

Nous ne savons pas encore, Madame, si c'est par votre propre diligence, ou par la grâce singulière de Dieu, que vous avez acquis tant de sagesse. Car, quoique vous avanciez en âge avec rapidité et avec un esprit enthousiasmé, quoique vous soyez si prudente que vous ne perdiez pas de temps en vain, et quoique vous vous abandonniez au repos quand enfin la plus grande partie de la nuit est passée, l'aurore ne vous trouvera jamais endormie. Mais la faiblesse humaine peut difficilement être tolérée, de sorte que vous avez pu acquérir et vous procurer tant de connaissances et l'usage des choses si soudainement, et parmi tant d'affaires du royaume. Le don doit vous être venu du ciel, car vous ne seriez pas venue si soudainement de la simple institution de Platon, de Plotin ou autres.

Mais à quoi bon chercher si c'est infusé du ciel, ou bien né du travail, ce que nous adorons et émerveillons ici et là en vous, tandis que nous confessons que c'est céleste et immortel? Que cesse cette recherche trop curieuse et inutile, que cesse aussi toute louange; car nous ne pouvons le louer, nous ne savons pas ce qu'il est, ni d'où vous le tenez. Mais cependant, quand nous reconnaissons qu'il est divin, permettez-nous de vous adorer. Car si jamais l'honneur et le culte divin devaient être conférés à quelqu'un sans culpabilité ni erreur, ce serait à toi qu'ils reviendraient, reine incomparable, très digne d'adoration.

Cette récompense n'est que petite si vous considérez vos vertus et les énormes bienfaits que vous m'avez accordés. Car ils sont si grands que même si la vie que je vis pouvait me revenir mille fois, la mort m'opprimerait mille fois avant que je donne la moindre partie de vos mérites envers moi. Mais vous ne demandez rien de plus grand, et je ne peux rien vous donner de plus grand qu'un esprit pur, dévoué et sans tache, avec lequel je vous adorerai, vous vénérerai et vous adorerai à jamais.

Votre très humble serviteur

Jean Vossius.

Dutch translation (my own):

Doorluchtigste en meest hooggeleerde Kristina,

Ik twijfel er niet aan, doorluchtigste Koningin, dat de meeste mensen die uw langdurige gunst en weldadigheid jegens mij kennen, zeer verbaasd zullen zijn dat ik tot nu toe geen enkel teken van dankbaarheid heb getoond, maar wanneer ik degenen heb veredeld die u nooit hebt veracht, zelfs niet in de meest afgelegen delen van de wereld, prijzen ze uw deugden met één mond, vieren ze ze en verheffen ze ze in competitie naar de hemel. Als een aangeboren luiheid of een ander gebrek van de geest de oorzaak zou zijn van zo'n lange stilte, is het zo ver van mij dat ik om vergiffenis voor de overtreding zou kunnen smeken, dat ik u eerder de flagrante straf voor de misdaad zou opleggen. Maar dat ik zo ver mogelijk van deze fout verwijderd ben, kan niemand onwetend zijn van dit, aan wie zowel mijn manieren als de mate van mijn karakter bekend zijn.

Als ik nooit aanwezig was geweest en de wonderen die de hele wereld over u predikt, met meer vertrouwen en met een zekere veeleisende noodzaak had overwogen, zou ik een gesprek over u beginnen. Nu echter, wanneer ik zie dat de dingen die over u worden geroemd, ver beneden uw glorie zijn, aangezien u alle roem in deugd volledig hebt overtroffen, ben ik zo gereduceerd, goddelijk en onvergelijkelijk Koningin, dat ik noch over u kan spreken noch zwijgen. De buitengewone vriendelijkheid jegens mij, die zelfs nu nog in mij doordringt, verbiedt mij te zwijgen; het tweede wordt echter verhinderd door zowel uw grootheid als de zwakte van mijn talent.

Als het voor anderen ooit een schande is geweest om te zwijgen terwijl er dringend gesproken moest worden, dan is het voor mij wel de meest schandelijke. Ik zou als ondankbaar of kwaadaardig worden beschouwd als ik het vermogen om te spreken, wat zo passend is voor majesteit, wordt ontnomen. Ik zal in ieder geval zeggen wat ik kan.

Wat ik u vertel, doe ik dus niet op basis van mijn eigen kracht of verstand, want mijn zwakheid ontgaat mij niet. Maar ik wil dat, als ik door te zwijgen een misdaad bega, ik die door te spreken kan verdoezelen en zo de misdaad kan verdrijven. En toch verbreek ik daarom mijn stilzwijgen niet om uw lof aan te vallen. Zij die het kunnen, of zichzelf toeschijnen, en geleerd zijn om het te doen, doen dit. Ik gebruik daarom die deugd, zodat ook andere ijdelheid ver weg is. Dit vraag ik u in ieder geval, en ik smeek u met een vriendelijke en serene gelaat om het geschenk dat ik u aanbied te aanvaarden en het niet onwaardig te dragen, aangezien ik het, na zo'n lange vertraging, aan een vreemde in mijn plaats durf aan te bieden.

Maar om directer te zijn: het is uw lof, mevrouw, en niet die van iemand anders, die ik voor u moet zien te verkrijgen. Mijn vader had het voor uw bedoeld toen hij nog leefde, en toen hij stierf, liet hij de was ook voor uw achter. Maar of hij nu van uw is of niet, door hem te accepteren maakt u hem tot de uwe, en hij zal, naar ik denk, niet minder aanvaardbaar zijn dan wanneer hij van mij was — neen, zelfs aanvaardbaarder, want hij is zelfs beter. Wat de argumentatie van het werk betreft, hoop ik niet dat dit verspild zal worden, want het bevat de tijd en de geschriften van hen die u graag voor de sterfelijkheid zou willen bewaren, samen met hun monumenten, als het lot het zou toestaan.

Ik vrees, mevrouw, dat dit boek u meer pijn dan plezier zal bezorgen, want het is onmogelijk om niet diep ontroerd te raken als u met uw hebzuchtige en onverzadigbare blik de vele lichten van het oude Griekenland ziet, de vele schitterende en onschatbare schatten. Want hier ziet u enkel de reputatie van de schrijvers, alleen de titels van hun werk en iets dat lijkt op de schipbreuk van de menselijke wijsheid. Er staat hier niets over Theopompus, niets over Timaeus, kortom niets over Ephorus, behalve de naam. Laten ze allemaal vergaan, en laat datgene wat het meest betreurd moet worden, vergaan zonder nageslacht.

Dit zeg ik niet omdat ik onrechtvaardig over de talenten van de geschiedkundigen van deze tijd voel, zodat ik zelfs die niet nastreef in de achting die mij toekomt; laat ze zijn wat ze willen, mits ze weten dat ze ver verwijderd zijn van de verhevenheid van de ouden, en dat ze, hoezeer ze zelf ook het gewone volk in begrip overtreffen, zo overtreffen ze hen.

En hoewel het niet moeilijk is om de oorzaak van deze kwestie aan te geven, waarom zou men deze dan aan velen moeten uitleggen, als de gebeurtenis zelf dit duidelijk leert? Wie zal de dwaas antwoorden die vraagt waarom hij terug uit de droom gebracht moet worden, tenzij hij zelf als een dwaas beschouwd wil worden? Het is inderdaad onjuist dat sommigen denken dat ze, wanneer ze geen helden meer zijn, ook niet langer degenen zijn die hun daden aan hun nagedachtenis en aan het nageslacht doorgeven. Met welke van de helden uit vroeger tijden zal uw meest glorieuze vader vergeleken worden? Wie zou hem niet de grootste van alle koningen en de opperste van alle noemen, als hij geen nog grotere dochter had gebaard?

Voor zover ik weet, is er echter niemand die zijn daden in staat of aangedurfd heeft om ze aan de hele wereld en aan alle tijden, in brieven en voor de eeuwigheid, toe te wijden. Hieruit blijkt voor de scepters van vandaag dat er geen gebrek aan argumenten is, maar dat zij zelf een gebrek aan argumenten hebben. In dit opzicht, en in bijna alle andere opzichten, verzetten ze inderdaad zich duidelijk tegen de oude grondleggers van de geschiedenis. Ze hebben namelijk door hun kunst en ijver helden van mensen gemaakt. Maar door de fout van hun genialiteit en vaardigheid, ruilen en transformeren ze helden, ja zelfs goden, in mensen, en wel in de meest verachtelijke. Maar waarom zou ik hier de misdaden van anderen vermelden, terwijl ik het materiaal voor de mooiste lof voor handen heb?

Met tegenzin, mijn Koningin, zou ik de ondeugden van anderen nastreven als ik even goed zou zijn in uw prekende deugden. Maar het was veel moeilijker om die te overwegen dan om de fouten van anderen over te nemen. Inderdaad, een fout maken is net zo makkelijk als spreken. Maar omdat uw deugd niets menselijks heeft, maar juist volkomen goddelijk en onsterfelijk is, wie kan deze dan aanvallen en uiten, tenzij het iemand overkomt die ook hemels is? Zou ik niet in dezelfde fout vervallen, die ik nog niet zo lang geleden bij anderen bekritiseerde, als ik zou proberen de heldhaftige en onvergelijkelijke talenten van uw geest te onderdrukken door de verfijndheid van mijn stijl en mijn taalgebruik, en ze als het ware uit de hemel naar de aarde te halen?

Sta mij toe, Doorluchtigste Koningin, als er bij mij enig teken van een ondankbare geest opduikt, dat ik over uw deugden zwijg, zodat men mij niet als ondankbaar zal beschouwen. U zou dit liever willen zien dan de kwaadaardigheid te verraden waaraan ik mij duidelijk schuldig maak, door bescheiden en koel tot u te preken (want ik kan niet anders). Ook al zou er niets groots en gedenkwaardigs in u gebeuren dan wat u te danken hebt aan uw fortuin en uw geboorte, dan nog zou het een grotere lofprijzing en onze prediking zijn, want het is slechts in zoverre dat ik die verhevenheden, scepters en kronen door het spreken kan bereiken, zodat woorden vaak niet eens ter hulp komen aan die vrienden en verwanten die ik zou moeten tevreden stellen.

Maar wanneer het fortuin, hoewel het u al deze dingen heeft geschonken, u toch minder schenkt dan wat u zelf hebt verworven, wanneer uw eigen deugd u zelfs boven de diadeem heeft verheven, zou ik ijdel en dwaas zijn als ik mijn kracht op het spel zou zetten. Ik heb er de voorkeur aan gegeven om de pijn met woorden te verzachten, dan om in heilige stilte de wonderen te vereren die met u wedijveren. Het komt hierop neer, mevrouw: niemand kan u prijzen zonder de ernstigste verwijten van andere koningen en de belediging van vorsten. Want zelfs als iemand zichzelf iets aanbiedt dat het waard is om hierin te prediken, wordt dat overschaduwd door uw glorie, en hun hoogste deugden bereiken nauwelijks het punt waar de uwe beginnen.

Het is een eer voor hen om drie of vier talen te beheersen. Maar inderdaad, hoezeer is dit een deel van uw lof, want u verstaat de meeste talen (behalve de barbaarse) met de grootste nauwkeurigheid, en u drukt ze ook nog eens in woorden uit, en u doet dat zo elegant dat ik niet denk dat zelfs de Muzen zelf eleganter en welsprekender zouden kunnen zijn. En toch, omdat u zoveel talen spreekt, zijn er nog steeds meer die u prijzen.

Maar wat is glorieuzer dan andere koningen die vriendelijk en welwillend zijn geweest jegens de literatuur en de aanbidders van de literatuur? Maar u, onvergelijkelijke mevrouw, bent niet alleen in de ban van de liefde voor literatuur, maar u hebt er ook zoveel vooruitgang in geboekt dat u zelfs de meest geleerde niet onderdoet. U hebt zeker iedereen van uw leeftijd ver achter u gelaten.

Want welke leer of wetenschap is er waarvan u de uithoeken niet hebt verkend, zelfs de meest berouwvolle onder hen? Het was werkelijk een spel en vermaak voor u om dichters en redenaars te lezen, deels Grieks, deels Latijn en deels uit het hoofd. U hebt een kennis van de geschiedenis verworven die niet groter is dan de kennis van hen die een heel tijdperk aan deze studie hebben gewijd.

Het is werkelijk verbazingwekkend en ongehoord, en iets waarvan we niet hadden gedacht dat het een jongeman, laat staan een maagd, zou overkomen als u niet ons enige voorbeeld was geweest, dat u zo snel kunt ontsnappen naar die heilige en verborgen diepten van de filosofie die zij op hun oude dag door voortdurende arbeid en voortdurende waakzaamheid nauwelijks konden bereiken.

Wij weten nog niet, mevrouw, of het door uw eigen ijver of door de bijzondere genade van God komt dat u zoveel wijsheid hebt verworven. Want ook al vordert u snel en met een opgewekte geest in uw jaren en in uw leeftijd, ook al bent u zo voorzichtig dat u geen tijd tevergeefs verspilt, en ook al geeft u zich over aan rust wanneer de nacht eindelijk grotendeels voorbij is, toch zult u bij zonsopgang nooit slapend zijn. Maar menselijke zwakheid is nauwelijks te tolereren, zodat u zo plotseling zoveel kennis en het gebruik van zaken kon verwerven en voor uzelf kon zorgen, en dat in zo veel zaken van het koninkrijk. Het geschenk moet u uit de hemel zijn gekomen, want zo plotseling zou u niet gekomen zijn door de instelling van Plato, Plotinus of dergelijke.

Maar wat heeft het voor zin om te onderzoeken of datgene wat wij hier en daar in u aanbidden en waarover wij ons verwonderen, hemels en onsterfelijk is, door de hemel is ingegeven of juist door arbeid is ontstaan? Laat die al te merkwaardige en nutteloze vraag ophouden, laat ook alle lof ophouden; omdat wij het niet kunnen prijzen, weten wij niet hoe het is, en waar u het vandaan hebt. Maar toch, wanneer wij erkennen dat het goddelijk is, laat ons u dan aanbidden. Want als er ooit eer en goddelijke aanbidding aan iemand verleend zou worden zonder schuld of fout, dan zou dat aan u zijn, onvergelijkelijke Koningin, die het meest aanbiddenswaardig is.

Deze beloning is slechts klein als u uw deugden en de enorme voordelen die u mij hebt geschonken in ogenschouw neemt. Want ze zijn zo groot dat zelfs als het leven dat ik leef duizend keer tot mij terug zou kunnen komen, de dood mij duizend keer zou onderdrukken voordat ik ook maar het kleinste deel van uw verdiensten voor mij zou opgeven. Maar toch, u vraagt niet om iets groters, noch kan ik iets groters geven, dan een zuivere, toegewijde en onbevlekte geest, waarmee ik u voor altijd zal aanbidden en vereren.

Uw ootmoedigste dienaar

Johannes Vossius.

Swedish translation (my own):

Durchlauchtigste och allravisaste Kristina,

Jag tvivlar inte på, durchlauchtigste drottning, att de flesta människor som känner Er utdragna gunst och välgörenhet mot mig kommer att bli mycket förvånade över att jag hittills inte har visat något tecken på tacksamhet, men när jag har adlat dem som Ni aldrig har föraktat, till och med i de mest avlägsna delarna av världen prisar de Era dygder med en mun, de firar dem och höjer dem till himlen i konkurrens. Om antingen någon medfödd lättja eller någon annan sinnesbrist skulle vara orsaken till en så lång tystnad, är det så långt ifrån mig att jag kan be om ursäkt för brottet, att jag hellre bör tillmäta Er brottets flagranta straff. Men att jag är så långt borta från detta fel som möjligt, ingen kan vara okunnig om detta, för vilken både mitt sätt och mått på min karaktär har varit känt.

Om jag aldrig hade varit närvarande och begrundat de mirakel som hela världen predikar om Er mer självsäkert och med någon krävande nödvändighet, skulle jag upprätta ett samtal om Er. Men när jag nu ser att just de saker som skrytas om Er är långt under Er ära, eftersom Ni helt har överträffat all berömmelse i dygd, så är jag så förminskad, gudomlig och ojämförlig drottning, att jag varken kan tala eller tiga om Er. Den utomordentliga vänlighet mot mig, som redan nu sjunker in, förbjuder att jag skall tiga; det andra hindras dock både av Er storhet och min talangs svaghet.

Men om det någonsin har varit skamligt för andra att tiga när behovet av att tala var trängande, har det överlägset varit det mest skamliga för mig. Jag skulle anses otacksam eller illvillig om jag berövas förmågan att tala, vilket är så passande för majestät. Jag skall åtminstone säga vad jag kan.

Det jag riktar till Er förlitar jag mig därför inte på min styrka eller mitt förstånd för, eftersom min svaghet inte undkommer mig, men åtminstone för att jag, om jag genom att tiga ådrar mig något brott, kan späda ut det hela genom att tala, och därigenom driva bort den. Och ändå bryter jag därför inte min tystnad för att angripa Era lovord. De gör detta som antingen kan göra det eller verkar kunna göra det och lär sig att göra det. Jag använder därför den dygden så att även annan fåfänga är långt borta. Detta ber åtminstone jag, och jag trygglar Er, med ett vänligt och fridfullt ansikte, att ta emot den gåva som jag erbjuder, och att inte bära den ovärdigt, som jag efter så lång fördröjning vågar framlägga för en främling i min plats.

Fast, för att tala mer direkt, det är Er beröm, fru, och inte någon annans, som jag måste skaffa Er. Min far hade tänkt det åt Er medan han levde, och när han dog lämnade han också vaxet åt Er. Men oavsett om det är Ert eller inte, genom att acceptera det kommer Ni att göra det till Ert, och det kommer, som jag tror, inte vara mindre acceptabelt än om det vore mitt — ja, ännu mer acceptabelt, för det är ännu bättre. När det gäller verkets argument hoppas jag inte att detta kommer att gå till spillo, för det innehåller åldern och skrifterna av dem som Ni gärna skulle bevara från dödligheten tillsammans med deras monument, om det tillåts av ödet.

Jag är rädd, fru, att denna bok kan ge Er mer smärta än nöje, för det är omöjligt att inte bli djupt berörd om Ni kastar Era giriga och omättliga ögon på så många av det antika Greklands ljus, så många fantastiska och ovärderliga skatter. För här kommer Ni att se författarnas blotta rykte, bara titlarna på deras arbete och något som liknar den mänskliga vishetens skeppsbrott. Här finns ingenting av Theopompos, ingenting av Timaios, ingenting, kort sagt, av Eforos, förutom namnet; låt dem alla gå under, och låt det som är mest att beklaga förgå utan posteritet.

Detta är inte sagt av mig, därför att jag känner orättvist för historikernas talanger i denna tidsålder, så att jag inte ens förföljer dem i den aktning, som jag är skyldig; låt dem vara vad de vill, förutsatt att de vet att de är långt borta från de gamlas upphöjdhet och att så mycket som de själva överträffa allmogen i förstånd. Så mycket överträffar de dem.

Och även om det inte är svårt att ange orsaken till denna sak, vilket behov finns det av att förklara det för många när själva händelsen tydligt lär det? Vem skall svara dåren som frågar varför han skall tas ur hans villfarelse, om han inte själv vill betraktas som en dåre? Det är verkligen falskt att vissa tror att när de har upphört att vara hjältar, så har de också upphört att vara de som skulle överlämna sina gärningar till deras minne och till eftervärlden. Med vem skall Er mest ärofyllda förälder jämföras bland forna tiders hjältar? Vem skulle inte kalla honom den störste av konungar och den högste av alla om han inte hade fött en större dotter?

Ingen har dock, så vitt jag vet, kunnat, eller vågat, helga sina bedrifter åt hela världen och till alla åldrar, i brev och i evighet. Av detta framgår det för dagens sceptrar att det inte saknas argument, utan att de själva saknar argument. Sannerligen, i denna fråga, och i nästan alla andra frågor, är de tydligt motståndare till historiens forntida grundare, ty de har gjort hjältar av människor genom konst och industri; men de, på grund av genialitet och skicklighet, byter ut och förvandlar hjältar, ja, gudar själva, till människor, och faktiskt de mest avskyvärda. Men varför skulle jag här nämna andras brott när jag har det vackraste beröms material framför mina händer?

Motvilligt, min drottning, skulle jag eftersträva andra människors laster om jag var jämställd med Era predikande dygder, men det var mycket svårare att tänka på dem än att ta upp andras fel. Att halka och fela är faktiskt lika lätt som att tala. Men eftersom Er dygd inte har något mänskligt i sig, utan är absolut gudomlig och odödlig, vem kan angripa den och uttrycka den om det inte händer någon som också är himmelsk? Skulle jag inte hamna i samma misstag, som jag för en kort tid sedan kritiserade hos andra, om jag försökte trycka ner Ert sinnes heroiska och ojämförliga talanger genom finheten i min stil och mitt tal, och sätta ner dem så att säga från himmel till jord?

Tillåt mig, durchlauchtigste drottning, om det visar sig något tecken på ett otacksamt sinne hos mig, att tiga om Era dygder, så att jag inte kan anses otacksam. Ni skulle hellre se detta än att förråda den illvilja som jag är uppenbart skyldig till att begå om jag predikar för Er blygsamt och kallt (för jag kan inte annat). Även om inget annat stort och minnesvärt skulle förekomma hos Er än vad Ni är skyldig Er lycka och Er börd, skulle det ändå vara en större lovprisning och vår predikan, ty det är bara så långt som jag kan uppnå dessa sublimiteter, sceptrar och kronor genom tal, så att ofta ord inte ens kommer till hjälp för de vänner och släktingar jag borde tillfredsställa.

Men när lyckan, fastän den har givit Er allt detta, ändå kommer att ge Er mindre än de som Ni själv har förvärvat, när Er egen dygd har höjt Er till och med över diademet, skulle jag vara fåfäng och dåraktig om jag riskerade min styrka, och jag har föredragit att mildra med ord än att i helig tystnad vörda de mirakel som konkurrerar med Er. Det går till detta, fru: att ingen kan prisa Er utan andra konungars allvarligaste förebråelse och furstars förolämpning. Ty sannerligen, även om man erbjuder sig själv något som är värt att predika här, överskuggas det av Er härlighet, och deras högsta dygder stiger knappast till den punkt där Era börjar.

Det är hedervärt för dem att ha förvärvat tre eller fyra språk. Men verkligen, hur mycket detta är en del av Ert beröm, för Ni ju förstår de flesta språk (utom de barbariska) med yttersta exakthet, och Ni uttrycker också många av dem i tal, och Ni gör det så elegant att jag tror inte att även muserna själva kunde vara mer eleganta och vältaliga. Och ändå, eftersom Ni har talat många språk, finns det fortfarande fler som hyllar Er.

Men vad är härligare än andra konungar om de varit snälla och välvilliga mot litteraturen och litteraturdyrkarna? Men Ni, ojämförliga fru, hålls inte bara av kärleken till litteraturen, utan Ni har också gjort så stora framsteg i den, att Ni inte ens ger efter för de mest lärda. Ni har säkert lämnat alla i Er ålder långt bakom Er.

För vilket slags doktrin och vetenskap finns det vars fördjupningar Ni inte har utforskat, även de mest ångerfulla? Det har ju verkligen varit en lek och ett nöje för Er att läsa diktare och talare, några grekiska, några latinska, och delvis efter minne. Ni har skaffat Er den kunskapen om historien som inte är större än kunskapen hos dem som har ägnat en hel tid åt denna studie.

Det är verkligen överraskande och oerhört, och något vi inte skulle ha trott att komma till en ung man, än mindre en jungfru, om Ni inte hade varit vårt enda exempel, att Ni skulle ha rymt så snabbt till filosofins heliga och dolda djupen som de knappast kunde nå till sist i ålderdomens yttersta genom ständigt arbete och kontinuerliga vakor.

Vi vet ännu inte, fru, om det är genom Er egen flit eller genom Guds enastående nåd, som Ni har förvärvat så mycket visdom. Ty fastän Ni framskrider Era år och Er ålder med snabbhet och upphetsad kvickhet, fastän Ni ju också är så försiktig att Ni inte slösar bort någon tid förgäves, och fastän Ni ger Er själv ju till vila när äntligen större delen av natten har gått förbi, finner gryningen aldrig att Ni sover. Men mänsklig svaghet kan knappast tolereras, så att Ni kunde förvärva och försörja Er så mycket kunskap och användning av saker så plötsligt och bland så många rikets angelägenheter. Gåvan måste ha kommit till Er från himlen, för Ni skulle ju inte ha kommit så plötsligt från Platons, Plotinus eller liknandes blotta institution.

Men vad är målet med att söka om det var ingjutet av himlen, eller faktiskt född av arbete, det som vi här och där dyrkar och förundras över i Er, medan vi bekänner att det är himmelskt och odödligt? Låt den alltför nyfikna och värdelösa undersökningen upphöra, låt också allt beröm upphöra; eftersom vi inte kan prisa det, vi vet inte hur det är, och varifrån Ni har det. Men ändå, när vi inser att det är gudomligt, låt oss älska Er. Ty om ära och gudomlig dyrkan någonsin skulle tilldelas någon utan skuld eller fel, skulle det bero på Er, ojämförliga drottning, högst värd att tillbedjas.

Denna belöning är bara liten om Ni tänker på Era dygder och de enorma fördelar Ni har givit mig. För de är så stora att även om det liv jag lever kunde komma tillbaka till mig tusen gånger, skulle döden förtrycka mig tusen gånger innan jag skulle lägga ner ens den minsta delen av Era förtjänster mot mig. Men ändå ber Ni varken om något större, och jag kan inte heller ge något större än en ren, hängiven och orenad ande, med vilken jag kommer att tillbe, vörda och dyrka Er för alltid.

Er ödmjukaste tjänare

Johannes Vossius.

English translation (my own):

Most serene and most wise Kristina,

I do not doubt, Most Serene Queen, that most of the people who know your protracted favour and beneficence towards me will be very surprised that I have hitherto shown no sign of gratitude, yet when I have ennobled those whom you have never scorned, even in the remotest parts of the world, they praise your virtues with one mouth, they celebrate them and raise them to Heaven in competition. If either some innate laziness or some other defect of mind should be the cause of so long a silence, it is so far from me that I may beg pardon for the offence, that I should rather inflict upon you the flagrant punishment of the crime. But that I am as far removed from this fault as possible, no one can be ignorant of this, to whom both my manners and the measure of my character have been known.

If I had never been present and contemplated those miracles which the whole world preaches about you more confidently and with some exacting necessity, I would establish a conversation about you. Now, however, when I see that the very things which are boasted about you are far below your glory, as you have completely surpassed all fame in virtue, I am so reduced, divine and incomparable Queen, that I can neither speak nor keep silent about you. That extraordinary kindness towards me, which even now sinks in, forbids that I should remain silent; the second thing is prevented, however, both by your greatness and the weakness of my talent.

However, if it has ever been shameful for others to remain silent when the necessity of speaking was pressing, it has by far been the most shameful thing for me. I would be considered ungrateful or malicious if I am deprived of the ability to speak, which is so appropriate to majesty. I will at least say what I can.

What I am addressing to you, therefore, I do not rely on my strength or my wits for, as my weakness does not escape me, but at least so that, if by keeping silent I incur any crime, I may dilute it all by speaking, and thereby drive it away. And yet I do not therefore break my silence in order to attack your praises. Those do this who either are, or seem to themselves, able to do it, and are learned to do it. I therefore use that virtue so that also other vanity is far away. This at least I ask, and I beseech you, with a kind and serene countenance, to accept the present which I offer, and not to bear it unworthily, which, after so long a delay, I dare to present to a stranger in my place.

Although, to speak more directly, it is your praise, Madame, and not someone else, which I must procure for you. My father had intended it for you while he was alive, and when he died, he also left the wax for you. However, whether it be yours or not, by accepting it you will make it yours, and it will, as I think, be no less acceptable than if it were mine — nay, even more acceptable, for it is even better. As regards the argument of the work, I do not hope that this will be wasted, for it contains the age and the writings of those whom you would gladly preserve from mortality together with their monuments, if it were permitted by fate.

I am afraid, Madame, that this book might bring you more pain than pleasure, for it is impossible not to be most deeply moved if you cast those avaricious and insatiable eyes of yours upon so many of the lights of Ancient Greece, so many splendid and inestimable treasures. For here you will see the bare reputation of the writers, only the titles of their labours, and something like the shipwreck of human wisdom. There is nothing here of Theopompus, nothing of Timaeus, nothing, in short, of Ephorus, besides the name; let them all perish, and let what is most to be regretted perish without posterity.

This is not said by me because I feel unjustly about the talents of the historians of this age, so that I do not pursue even those in the esteem to which I am due; let them be what they will, provided they know that they are far removed from the sublimity of the ancients, and that as much as they themselves surpass the common people in understanding. So much do they surpass them.

And although it is not difficult to give the cause of this matter, what need is there to explain it to many when the event itself clearly teaches it? Who will answer the fool who asks why he should be deceived, unless he himself wants to be considered a fool? It is false indeed that some think that when they have ceased to be heroes, they have also ceased to be those who would hand down their deeds to their memory and to posterity. To whom shall your most glorious parent be compared among the heroes of old? Who would not call him the greatest of kings and the chief of all unless he had borne a greater daughter?

However, no one, as far as I know, has been able, or has dared, to consecrate his exploits to the whole world, and to all ages, in letters and for eternity. From this it appears to today's scepters that there is no lack of argument, but that they themselves are lacking in argument. Indeed, in this matter, and in almost all other matters, they are clearly opposed to the ancient founders of history, for they have made heroes out of men by art and industry; but they, through the fault of genius and skill, exchange and transform heroes, nay, gods themselves, into men, and indeed the most vile ones. But why should I here mention the crimes of others when I have before my hands the material of the most beautiful praise?

Reluctantly, my Queen, I would pursue other people's vices if I were equal to your preaching virtues, but it was far more difficult to consider them than to pick up the errors of others. Indeed, to slip and err is a matter, in fact, as easy as in speaking. But because your virtue has nothing human in it, but is absolutely divine and immortal, who can attack it and express it unless it happens to someone who is also heavenly? Would I not fall into the same error, which a short time ago I criticised in others, if I tried to depress the heroic and incomparable talents of your mind by the fineness of my style and speech, and to bring them down, as it were, from Heaven to Earth?

Permit me, Most Serene Queen, if there appears in me any sign of an ungrateful mind, to keep silent about your virtues, so that I may not be thought ungrateful. You would rather see this than betray the malice of which I am manifestly guilty of committing if I preach to you modestly and coldly (for I cannot do otherwise). Although nothing else great and memorable should occur in you than what you owe to your fortune and your birth, it would still be a greater praise and our preaching, for it is only so far that I can attain those sublimities, scepters and crowns by speech, so that often words do not even come to the aid of those friends and relatives I should satisfy.

But when fortune, though it has given you all these things, will still present you with less than those which you yourself have acquired, when your own virtue has raised you even above the diadem, I would be vain and foolish if I risked my strength, and I have preferred to mitigate with words than to venerate in sacred silence those miracles which compete with you. It goes to this, Madame: that no one can praise you without the gravest reproach of other kings and the vituperation of princes. For indeed, even if one offers oneself something worthy of preaching herein, it is overshadowed by your glory, and their highest virtues hardly rise to the point where yours begin.

It is honourable for them to have acquired the skill of three or four languages. But indeed, how much this is a part of your praise, for you understand most languages (except barbarian ones) with the utmost exactness, and you also express many of them in speech, and you do it so elegantly that I do not think that even the Muses themselves could be more elegant and eloquent. And yet, as you have spoken many languages, there are still more that celebrate you.

But what is more glorious than other kings if they have been kind and benevolent towards literature and the worshippers of literature? But you, incomparable Lady, are not only held by the love of literature, but you have also made so much progress in it that you do not even concede to the most learned. Surely you have left everyone of your age far behind you.

For what kind of doctrine and science is there whose recesses you have not explored, even the most penitent of them? It has indeed been a game and amusement for you to read poets and orators, some Greek, some Latin, and partly by memory. You have acquired that knowledge of history which is not greater than the knowledge of those who have consecrated a whole age to this study.

It is truly surprising and unheard of, and something we would not have thought to fall upon a young man, let alone a virgin, if you had not been our only example, that you should have escaped so quickly to those sacred and hidden depths of philosophy which they could hardly reach at last in the extremes of old age by constant labour and continuous vigils.

We do not yet know, Madame, whether it is by your own diligence, or by the singular grace of God, that you have acquired so much wisdom. For, although you advance your years and your age with rapidity and excited wit, although you are also so careful that you do not waste any time in vain, and though you do give yourself up to rest when at last the greater part of the night has passed, yet the dawn will never find you asleep. However, human weakness can hardly be tolerated, so that you could acquire and provide for yourself so much knowledge and the use of things so suddenly, and among so many affairs of the kingdom. The gift must have come to you from Heaven, for you would not have come so suddenly from the mere institution of Plato, Plotinus or the like.

But what is the point of seeking whether it was infused by Heaven, or indeed born of labour, that which we here and there worship and marvel at in you, while we confess that it is heavenly and immortal? Let that too curious and useless inquiry cease, let all praise also cease; because we cannot praise it, we do not know what it is like, and from whence you have it. But still, when we recognise that it is divine, allow us to adore you. For if honour and divine worship were ever to be conferred on anyone without guilt or error, it would be due to you, incomparable Queen, most worthy of adoration.

This reward is only a small one if you consider your virtues and the enormous benefits you have bestowed on me. For they are so great that even if the life I live could come back to me a thousand times, death would oppress me a thousand times before I would lay down even the least part of your merits towards me. But still, you neither ask for anything greater, nor can I give anything greater, than a pure, devoted, and undefiled spirit, with which I will worship, venerate and adore you forever.

Your most humble servant

Johannes Vossius.

Above: Kristina.

Above: Gerardus Johannes Vossius.