MEMOIRS Of the COURT of FRANCE, And of the CITY of PARIS.
PART I.

IT was ſoon after the Treaty, with the Duke of Savoy, that I came to the French Court. The King found it convenient, to conclude a Peace with that Prince; thereby, to eaſe himſelf of ſo expenſive and troubleſome a War, as that had prov'd; which he had been obliged to maintain on that ſide. This great Monarch, who having once put an end to the Civil Wars, which were rais'd in his Kingdom, while he was under age, had been ſo ſucceſsful in his Undertakings, that he was look'd on as a Prince whom Providence deſign'd to raiſe above all others: found himſelf on a ſudden, in danger of being caſt down, from his greateſt height of Grandeur; all Europe being united againſt him; and King William, who is now in Poſſeſſion of the [2] Throne of England, having been invited thither, by ſome of that Kingdom; to deliver them from the Apprehenſions they were under, that their Religion, Laws and Privileges, were in danger, from the Meaſures taken by King James and his Mi⯑niſters: engaged ſo many Princes in his Intereſts by his prudent Conduct, that in a ſhort time, he form'd a very conſiderable League; and put himſelf at the Head of ſo many Forces, that he was in a Condition to put a ſtop, to his moſt Chriſtian Majeſty's formida⯑ble Power; under which, every thing had bowed be⯑fore. So that by a Vi [...]iſſitude, frequent enough in Governments, one deſcended of William of Naſſaw, preſerv'd the Houſe of Auſtria from its utter Ruin: The beginnings of which were owing to his illuſtrious Predeceſſor. Yet nothing in all this War, created more trouble to the King, than the Duke of Savoy's declaring againſt him. He had often endeavour'd to take him off from the Confederates, but could not prevail. The Mareſhal de Catinat, who commanded his Majeſty's Army in Italy; and who is as well qua⯑lify'd, for Negociations of State, as for the Buſineſs of War, was more ſucceſsful than others had been. He ſent the Count de Teſſe, Lieutenant General of the King's Armies, to Turin; with Inſtructions, ſui⯑table to thoſe he had himſelf received from Court: and that he might be the better heard, his Majeſty added ſo many Troops to his Army, under the Ma⯑reſhal's Command, that he made it much Superiour to the Duke of Savoy's. He had two Reaſons for doing this; one was that thereby he might make the Duke ſenſible of the Miſchiefs he was capable of doing him; and the other was, that he might not be afraid of the foreign Troops, which he had call'd to his Aſſi⯑ſtance; who might have offer'd to preſcribe to him, if they had been equal to the united Forces of France and Savoy. The advantageous Propoſals, that were offer'd to the Duke, made him hearken to an Accom⯑modation. By one of the Articles of this Treaty, [3] the Princeſs of Savoy, was to be given in Marriage to the Duke of Burgundy, ſo ſoon as ſhe was full twelve years of Age: Until which time, ſhe was to be edu⯑cated in France; for as yet ſhe wanted fifteen or ſix⯑teen months of it. And the King engaged, to give two Dukes and Peers of France, to remain Hoſtages in Savoy, till the Marriage ſhould be accompliſh'd. The King made choice of the Dukes de Froix and de Choiſeul to go there, as the two Hoſtages; and gave each of them 12000 Livers to defray the ex⯑pence of their Journey. The Dutcheſs du Lude, was appointed Lady of Honour, to this Princeſs. The Dutcheſs d' Arpajou, expected to have had the Honour of this Charge, becauſe ſhe had it under the Dauphi⯑neſs: And ſhe was ſo vexed at the Diſappointment, that in a ſhort time ſhe fell into an Apoplexy; which oblig'd her to go to the Waters of Bourbon, though the Seaſon in which they are uſually taken, was al⯑ready paſt: but it's now believ'd, they are good for that Diſeaſe at any time of the year; and therefore no regard is had to any particular Seaſon. The King appointed alſo ſix Dames du palais, one of which was the Counteſs de Roucy, who is this Dutcheſs's Daughter; upon which account, it was thought, that the King's having neglected her ſelf, would not affect her any more: But, as we always prefer our own Intereſts to that of others, ſhe was much more ſen⯑ſible, of the Affront, which ſhe thought was put up⯑on her ſelf, than of the Honour, which was done to her Daughter. It's but of late, that the Dutcheſs du Lude, could reaſonably hope, to have been ſo for⯑tunate, for ſhe was not much in Favour at Court, nor of the number of thoſe Ladies, who are allow'd to go to Marli; and the firſt time ſhe went there, it coſt her 2000 Crowns to the Princeſs d' Harcourt, who makes money of every thing, and who procur'd her that Favour. She had ſome Difficulty to furniſh the Money, yet ſhe has reaſon to be well-pleas'd, that ſhe employ'd it that way; for ſhe has thereby had [4] Opportunities, to act her part ſo well, that ſhe is got much into the King's Favour, and into the Favour of thoſe, in whom he has the greateſt Confidence. After ſhe was nam'd to her Charge, ſhe took Jour⯑ney, very ſoon for Pout-Beauvoiſin, which ſepa⯑rates France from the Dominions of Savoy; at which Place ſhe was to receive the Princeſs of Sa⯑voy. The Counteſs de Roucy went thither alſo, with the other five Dames du palais, whom the King had named. The Marquiſs de Dangeau (who had better Fortune than the Dutcheſs d' Arpajou, for he was nam'd Gentleman of Honour to the young Princeſs, which was the very Charge, he had with the late Dauphineſs) went alſo to meet her, with the other Officers of her Houſhold, whom the King had nam'd. The Count de Teſſe, who was made her firſt Maſter of Horſe, as a Reward of the good Services he had done at the Treaty, would have much rather choſen to have been Gentleman of Honour. The King had ſome time before granted the Marquiſs de Dangeau, the great Privilege, of the Order of St. Lazarus; which the Count de Teſſe thought, was a ſufficient Reward, and that nothing more was deſign'd for him, but he ſoon found his miſtake: Yet he has no reaſon to complain of his own Fortune; for he is one of thoſe, whom the Court has us'd with the great⯑eſt Kindneſs; yea, I may add, that he is even over⯑burthen'd with its Favours: for in a ſhort ſpace of time, he was made Governour of Ypres, Knight of the Holy Ghoſt, Collonel General of the Dragoons, Lieutenant General of the King's Armies, and firſt Gentleman of the Horſe to the Dutcheſs of Burgundy. This might ſeem ſtrange, but that we often ſee when a Courtier has once got much into Favour, the King is ſo laviſh in beſtowing Honours and Preferments upon him, that one would think, he was to keep none in reſerve for others.

Some days after this, the Princeſs of Savoy, took her Journey from Turin for Pont-Beauvoiſin, where [5] her Lady of Honour, waited for her with the King's Coaches. They whom the Duke of Savoy ſent along with her, to be her Convoy, took leave of her at that Place. And when ſhe had come as far as Lions, the Dutcheſs du Lude, made her ſtay a while there, as well to refreſh her after the Fatigue of her Journey, as to ſatisfie the Curioſity of the People, who were paſſionately deſirous to ſee her: after which ſhe ſet forward in her Journey for Fountain-bleau, where the Court was at that time. The King went as far as Montargis to meet her, for he knew what day ſhe was to be there; the Dauphin went along with his Majeſty, as did alſo the Duke and Dutcheſs of Or⯑leans; and having lodg'd there that night, they came to Nemours next day to dinner, where the Duke of Burgundy waited for them: They were then within four Leagues of Fountain-bleau, which they eaſily reach'd before night. The Princeſs was then but a very Child, yet the King was ſo taken with her, that he ſtay'd full four hours in Company with her at Montargis. The Duke and Dutcheſs of Savoy had taught her ſo well her Leſſon, that ſhe ſeem'd to have Wit and Senſe much above her Age. The Court be⯑gan now to conſider, what Name or Title ſhould be given her, whether they ſhould call her Dutcheſs of Burgundy, or Princeſs of Savoy; the King inclined to the firſt, though ſhe was not to be married for ſome conſiderable time: His reaſon was, that that Title would give her the Precedency of all the Princeſſes of the Blood, without giving them any reaſon to com⯑plain. But the Duke of Savoy requeſted the King, that ſhe might retain her own Title, till ſhe was married to the Duke of Burgundy. He thought per⯑haps thereby to find a Precedent for him and his Fa⯑mily, henceforth to claim Precedency at the French Court; for he knew well enough, that whatever Ti⯑tle they gave her, ſhe ſhould always take the door of all the Ladies about the Court: And, it ſeems, he knew, that when one of his Anceſtors was in France, [6] in the time of Henry IV. and diſputed for Place with Henry de Bourbon, Prince of Conde, at the door of the King's Antichamber, the King took the Prince by the Hand, and made him enter firſt; and to mor⯑tifie the Duke of Savoy yet farther, he told him, that he knew not what he meant, in offering to vie with a Prince who might one day be his Maſter.

However, the preſent Duke of Savoy having re⯑queſted the King, that his Daughter's Title might be continued till the Marriage; the King held a Council with his Miniſters, that he might know what was fitteſt to be done on that Occaſion: They fell upon a middle-way, which was to call her nei⯑ther Dutheſs of Burgundy, nor Princeſs of Savoy, but only the Princeſs, without adding any more; and thus ſhe was always called till the day of her Mar⯑riage: In the mean time, it was ordered, that ſhe ſhould have the Precedency of all the Princeſſes of the Blood, as being the preſumptive Wife of the Duke of Burgundy. The King caus'd her to be enter⯑tain'd with Diverſions ſuitable to her Age. And Mon⯑ſieur L' abbee de Choiſi, finding it was become faſhio⯑nable, to be employ'd in ſomething relating to the young Princeſs; thought, that he ſhould make his Court wonderfully well, by writing a Narrative of every thing, that had befallen her ſince ſhe parted from Tarin. When this Book came firſt abroad, ſome People got into an Humour, of commending it highly in all Companies, as the fineſt Piece that had appear'd of a long time: But if they had been ask'd, what they found in it that made them boaſt ſo much of it, they had been puzled to tell what it was. The more ingenuous and frank ſort of People ſpake quite otherwiſe of it, and inſtead of calling it ſo fine a Piece, they own'd plainly, that it was good for no⯑thing. Monſieur L' abbee, who ſets up for an inge⯑nious Writer, was extremely vex'd at this; but all thoſe who are look'd upon as the beſt Judges, agree⯑ing in the ſame Opinion; his Book was by common [7] conſent, condemn'd for waſte Paper, to be ſent to the Grocers Shops.

Before I proceed farther, I beg leave, to make a ſhort Digreſſion concerning this Author; he loſt once fifty Lowis d' ors, at Game with that handſom Lady Madam Freſnoi; and having no ready Money, ſhe truſted him for ſome time, but at laſt ſent to ask it of him; he ſent her inſtead of her Money, a Copy of ſome Books he had written; telling her at the ſame time, that if ſhe long'd for the Money, becauſe with⯑out it, ſhe had not wherewith to divert her ſelf, at Game, as ſhe had told him, in her Note to him; ſhe might divert her ſelf with thoſe Books, till ſuch time as he could ſatisfie her with Money. The Lady look'd upon this as a new way of paying Debts; but it tempted her to write Books as well as others, that by her own Compoſitions, ſhe might ſatisfie her Cre⯑ditors, when they ask'd Money of her.

But to return to my Subject. The Duke of Sa⯑voy was not at all well pleas'd, that his Daughter had only the Title of Princeſs, without having that of Savoy added to it: But if he could not have his Ambition ſatisfy'd in this matter, he try'd to have it in another. He caus'd a Latin Inſcription to be ſet up, importing that after he had enlarged the Bounds of his Dominions, and recover'd the Keys of Italy, he had ſhut up the Temple of Janus. It cannot be ſaid, that there was any manifeſt Falſhood in this Inſcrip⯑tion; yet it was ſomewhat odd, that he ſhould boaſt of ſuch mighty Wonders, and in ſo ſtrange a manner too: For it was never heard before, that the loſing of Battels, and a whole Province too, was the way for a Prince to enlarge his Dominions, or to reduce his Enemy to Reaſon. The Inſcription was put above a triumphal Arch, which was erected at Tarin, to ſet off a Fire-work that was raiſed there, to teſtifie the Joy of that Place for the Peace: And it was all he could boaſt of from the beginning of the War; ſince he had loſt not only his Dutchy, but the Battels of [8] Staffard and Marſaille into the bargain. Yet the great Number of Enemies, which France had at that time, made his Majeſty reckon, that he ſhould be a conſiderable Gainer, though he ſhould deliver up Savoy to him, and even the Town and Citadel of Pignerol, which were taken by Cardinal Richeleu in Perſon, if by that Means he could oblige him to a Peace. By this Treaty, the Duke was [...]ut into as good Circumſtances, as if he himſelf had gain'd thoſe Battels, and conquer'd a great Province.

The Duke having had the Pleaſure to ſee two Dukes and Peers of France at his Court, reſolv'd to revenge himſelf, and all the Princes of his Blood, of the Affront which Henry IV. put upon their Anceſtor; and as that great King, had carrv'd it ſo high in his own Houſe, as to make a Prince of his own Blood, take place of a Duke of Savoy: So the preſent Duke would needs carry it ſo high at his Court, as to make the Prince de Carignan (who is of his Fa⯑mily, and elder Brother to the Count de Soiſſons) take place of the two French Dukes, when they came to pay him a Viſit at his Houſe. Had the King's great Maſter of Horſe been there, to ſee a Prince triumph over theſe two Dukes, he had thought himſelf ſufficiently reveng'd of them; for they were ſo far from yielding him the place in his own Houſe, that they diſputed it with him whereſoever they met him. Perhaps he will not ſoon forget a Debate he had on this Score, with the Duke de Montauſier; who having told him, that he never thought, nor was it ever heard, that a younger Brother, of the Fa⯑mily of St. Maur, would vie for Precedency with a Prince of a Sovereign Houſe: The Duke de Montau⯑ſier anſwer'd him ſaucily, that he would let him know, that both as a younger Brother of the Fami⯑ly of St. Maur, and as Duke and Peer of France, he would diſpute the Precedency with him where ever they ſhould meet. But though perhaps this Duke may have been much in the right upon the one Score, [9] yet certainly he was not ſo upon the other; for a younger Brother, of the Family of St. Maur, or of any other Houſe, can never be ſuppos'd equal to the Son of a Sovereign Prince. And, perhaps, he had not ſpoke after that manner, but that the Duke of Lorrain was, at that time, diſpoſſed of his Domi⯑nions; ſo that he look'd upon the Princes of that Houſe, but as younger Brothers of a good Family. And it was, no doubt, for this very reaſon, that much about the ſame time, the Count de Cre⯑qui Berniulle, enter'd into a Debate with the late Count d' Harcourt, younger Brother to the Duke d' Elbeuf, for he treated him juſt as if he had been his Equal; and was ſo very haughty, that when the Mareſhals of France (before whom both of them were oblig'd to appear, to give account of their Quarrel) made ſome Diſtinction between them, and order'd him to go to the Prince's Houſe, and there to beg Pardon for what had paſs'd, his Behaviour to him was the ſame as before. It's true, he went to Harcourt, where the Prince dwelt at that time; but he caus'd drive his Coach to the very door of the Parlour, where the Mareſhals of France had appointed the Count d' Harcourt to receive him: He found him there, with ſome Gentlemen of their Neighbourhood, for they themſelves were near Neigh⯑bours. The Prince had cauſed Chairs to be ſet for them, and had alſo reſerv'd one for the Count de Crequi, while he himſelf deſign'd to ſit in an El⯑bow-chair: But ſo ſoon as the Count de Crequi (who was always of a great Preſence of Mind) perceiv'd, that by this means, he intended to let him under⯑ſtand the Difference between a Prince of a ſove⯑reign Houſe, and a Gentleman of a good Family; he skilfully warded off the blow; for after he had made thoſe Compliments to the Prince, which the Mare⯑ſhals of France order'd him to do, he went to the Chair that was reſerv'd for him; but inſtead of ſit⯑ting down in it, he put one knee upon the Seat of [10] it, and took hold of the back of it with his Hands: The Count d' Harcourt, who had Orders preſcrib'd him by the Mareſhals of France, how to behave him⯑ſelf on that Occaſion, as well as he; and who was obliged not to ſit while he was ſtanding, told him, that it would be more for his Conveniency to ſit down in the Chair, and that at leaſt, the Gentlemen who were there preſent, would take their Seats if he had once taken his: The Count d' Crequi anſwer'd him, that there was no need of Ceremonies among Neighbours as they were, and that he might ſit down if he pleas'd; but as for himſelf, he was well enough as he was: With theſe words, he ended his Viſit; and without giving the Prince time to make uſe of his Elbow-chair, took leave of him. The Prince was obliged to wait on him to the door of the Parlour; and the Diſtinction which he deſign'd to have made between them, turn'd more to his Shame than to his Honour. And he himſelf ſaid plainly to one of the Gentlemen that was at his Houſe, and in whom he put Confidence, that in his life-time, there was never any thing ſo mortified him, as the Count de Crequi's Behaviour to him that day. The Mortification, no doubt, was great enough; but he met with one incomparably greater, (if he was ſen⯑ſible of it) when the Prince of Condee cudgell'd him at Luxenburg. This Treatment lets us ſee, that every Man is Maſter in his own Houſe; and that there is a great Difference between a Prince of the Blood, and any other Prince in France, though of a Sovereign Houſe. However, the Prince of Conde's great Haughtineſs was brought low ſoon after; I mean, when he went out of France, and betook him⯑ſelf to the Protection of the Spaniards; and took part with them, to the manifeſt Violation of that Allegiance which he ow'd his own Sovereign. I admire that we have not a full Account of all this, in the Hiſtory that is written of his Life. It is well enough known, that ſo ſoon as he was at Namur, he found Reaſon to re⯑pent, [11] that ever he had left his native Country. The Author of that Hiſtory, methinks, ſhould have told us all the Journeys he made from that Town to Bruſſels, and from Bruſſels to Namur; endeavouring to adjuſt the Difference about Precedency with the Archduke Leopold, who pretended to take place of him: He ſhould have told us alſo, all that happen'd in a Debate of the like nature, between his moſt ſe⯑rene Highneſs, and the Duke of Lorrain. If it had been Cardinal Mazarin's good Pleaſure to have made uſe of this Juncture, to perſuade the Prince of Condee to return, he could have eaſily prevail'd; for he was almoſt mad, at the Treatment he met with: But that Miniſter, who thought it a piece of the beſt Policy he could contrive, to oblige him to quit France, was far from wiſhing his return thither. Theſe, and a thouſand other curious Things, which are wholly left out, deſerv'd a place, in the Hiſtory of that Prince's Life; and it would have been much more becoming an Hiſtorian, to have publiſh'd them, than to have entertain'd us, with ſo many Trifles and falſe Sto⯑ries.

'Tis true, the Author did not well know the Hi⯑ſtory of that Prince's Life; and he is ſo ingenuous, as to tell us ſo much, in the beginning of his Book; but ſince he acknowledged, that he was unable for ſuch a Performance, why did he undertake it? There is no⯑thing, in my Opinion, more inexcuſable in an Author, than to confeſs his own Ignorance; for ſince he ac⯑knowledges his own Failings, why does he venture to write Books? A pretty Idea indeed, he gives us of his Works! Were it not a thouſand times better, he ſhould ſay nothing of them? And may he not reaſonably ex⯑pect the common Fate of all ſuch Authors; that is, to make himſelf contemptible, as they always do? When an Author is ſo ſilly, as to condemn himſelf, he muſt not expect afterwards, that others will deal more gently by him, than he has done by himſelf.

[12] But to return to my Subject. The Prince de Ca⯑rignan having (as I have juſt now ſaid) reveng'd his own Family and that of Lorrain, of the Affronts that had been put upon them; there were many Dukes and Peers of France, who found their own Honour concern'd in the Treatment, which the Dukes of Froix and Choyſeul had met with; and therefore they conſulted together at private meetings, if they ſhould complain to his Majeſty of theſe two Dukes, for having diſgrac'd their Character, in bearing with a thing ſo un⯑worthy of their Rank: But the wiſeſt of them, did not think fit to do it; for they thought it more than probable, that before they went from Verſailles, they had Inſtructions given them in Writing, how to be⯑have themſelves at Turin; and therefore they could not hope for Redreſs, though they ſhould make their Complaint. In the mean time, the more Reaſons the Duke of Savoy had to be well ſatisfied, the more did he careſs the two Dukes; his very being an Ita⯑lian, makes him diſſemble naturally. The only thing he had to wiſh for, to make him compleatly ſatisfy'd, was, that Monſieur Louvois had been ſtill alive; that he might have ſeen, with what Art and Skill he could revenge himſelf of Injuries that were done him; for as it was he, who had firſt provok'd him to engage in a War againſt the King, by the Slights he had gi⯑ven him upon many Occaſions: He would, no doubt, have been exceedingly pleas'd, could he but have ask'd him, what was now become of all that Haugh⯑tineſs and Contempt, with which he treated all the Sovereign Princes, whoſe Power was inferiour to his Majeſty's.

This Prince having dealt after this manner by the two Hoſtages, and having nothing elſe that could vex them; thought it convenient to ſend them back to France, without waiting till his Daughter's Marriage ſhould be accompliſh'd. The pretence he uſed was, that he had ſo much Confidence in his Majeſty, that he did not deſire any other Security but his Word: [13] He ſaid alſo to the two Dukes, that it was only for form ſake, that ever he had ask'd Hoſtages of the King; and that he was now glad of the Opportunity he had, to let all Europe ſee, that he did not in the leaſt doubt, but that his Majeſty would faithfully perform every thing he had promis'd; that therefore they might return into France as ſoon as they pleas'd: yet they would not adventure to do this till they ſhould receive his Majeſty's Orders.

The King has alſo learn'd to diſſemble, not only from the Leſſons that Cardinal Mazarin taught him, but alſo by long Experience in Government, and in the Exerciſe of a Sovereign Power; which has taught him, that the Art of diſſembling is one of the moſt neceſſary Qualifications for a King: He firſt aſſured the Duke of Savoy of his Thankfulneſs for his Gene⯑roſity, and then he order'd the two Dukes to return to France. At the ſame time, his Majeſty ſent an Ambaſſador into that Country; it was the Count de Briord, who belong'd to the Prince of Condee, with⯑out whoſe Knowledge he had made an Intereſt for that Employment; for which his Highneſs was high⯑ly offended at him, but dar'd not ſhew his Reſent⯑ments, for fear of a Reprimand from the King.

The Feaſt of Chriſtmaſs was now at hand, and the Dutcheſs du Lude cauſed a little Jeſus to be made, for a Preſent to the young Princeſs, after the cuſtom of Italy. She found it upon her Toilet at her Levee; and the Caſe into which it was put, being of moſt ex⯑quiſite and curious Work, with panes of Chryſtal, ſhe was altogether charmed with it. But upon New⯑years Day the King made her a much more magnifi⯑cent Preſent; for he gave her an Apron with Jewels to the value of an Hundred thouſand Franks in it. The Dauphin gave her another, which had coſt him Forty thouſand Franks: and theſe two New-years Gifts were accompanied with a third Preſent from the King, of all the Jewels that had ever belong'd to his own Queen, and to the late Dauphineſs. The [14] Count de Thoulouſe, after the King's Example, gave ſo magnificent New-years Gifts, that they ſeem'd too great by much, for a private Perſon. No doubt, but what he did, was by the King's Allowance; and that even his Majeſty adviſed him to it. But whatever was in that, it was to the Marquis d' Antin (who is his Brother by the Mother's ſide) that he made thoſe rich Preſents; and the whole Buſineſs was manag'd thus: The Marquiſs d' Antin being gone to dine with his Brother in Law the Marquis de Barbeſieux, he found under his Mapkin a Billet which was folded; he knew not what was the Import of it; and the Marquis de Barbeſieux (who probably had put it there by his Majeſty's Order) having forbidden him to bluſ [...], [...] [...]is Lady ſhould not know of it; he told him alſo, that all the Company would allow him to read it, and that they would refer it to his own Diſ⯑cretion, whether he would tell them what was in it or not; for they would not at all vex him. The Marquis d' Antin aroſe from the Table, and went to the Window to read it. He found, that in⯑ſtead of coming from a Lady, as he at firſt had ima⯑gin'd, it was come from the Count de Thoulouſe, who took the Liberty to call him a big hoggiſh Fellow, for he look'd like one that had got enough of Food in his time: But he had no Reaſon to complain of this Freedom, ſince as the Contents of the Billet made him ſee clearly, that it proceeded from true Friendſhip: For the Count told him, that two years ago, he had re⯑ſolved to give him a Penſion of Ten thouſand Livres a year; and that as it was but juſt he ſhould have the Benefit of it from that time; ſo now he gave him notice, that he had not only ſettled it on him for the time coming, but had alſo order'd his Treaſurer immediately to pay him 20000 Livers for the two paſt years. The Marquis d' Antin, being come back to the Table, told the Company, that they were not much miſtaken, if they thought that this was a Bil⯑let doux, that at leaſt he himſelf took it for one; [15] and he was ſure he was in the right of it; and for that he would appeal to the Judgment of thoſe preſent. He then told them the Contents of it; and ſo ſoon as they had heard them, they all own'd, that it was incomparably better than any Billet that could come even from the handſomeſt Lady. They had all the Reaſon in the World to think ſo, ſince 10000 Livers a year, and 20000 of ready Money is well worth any Miſtreſs; eſpeci⯑ally now adays, when the World is ſo chang'd, that whereas formerly the Men ſought after the Ladies, theſe do now ſeek after the Men; and almoſt all of them are become effronted to the higheſt Degree; and carry on their Debauchery ſo far, that many of them fuddle as if they were to gain no ſmall Ho⯑nour and Reputation by it: and ſince the Cordial Liquors came in Faſhion, they make uſe of that Pre⯑tence, to drink of every thing that pleaſes their Pal⯑late, not excepting even Drandy it ſelf, which they drink as if it were ſweet Water; by which we may gueſs how well they reliſh other Liquors: and ſeeing their Taſt is ſo viciated, that they love even that which Porters themſelves deteſted not many years ago; it is not very probable, that they'll be at much Pains to re⯑ſiſt thoſe Temptations, that procure thoſe Pleaſures, which are much more natural than the other; and which (in the Opinion of ſome People) are not al⯑together ſo unworthy of the Female Sex. And the Truth is, the Ladies are generally ſenſible enough of this, and are become ſo impudent in thoſe lewd Pra⯑ctices, that one, whom I know very well, and who is none of the leaſt conſiderable about the Court, know⯑ing ſome time ago that her Gallant was to be mar⯑ried, beſought him to call at her Houſe as he return'd from Church. It was the Niece of this Meſſalina whom he married; and the Niece's Modeſty is as great as the Aunts Impudence: However, her Gal⯑lant not being able to refuſe her Deſire, was no ſooner in her Chamber, but ſhe ask'd another Favour of [16] him, which was, that he would paſs that day a bed with her; that at night her Niece might have nothing but what ſhe had left. The Bridegroom ſtood in great need of Money, and knowing that ſhe rewarded liberally, granted her Requeſt; while the Friends, who were invited to the Marriage, were ſearching throughout all the parts of the Neighbourhood to know what was become of him. Yet this is not the only Court Lady of this Stamp. But every one of them were laſh'd and expos'd ſufficiently, in ſome Carols and Lampoons that were compos'd and pub⯑liſh'd ſoon after the Princeſs came to France. There we had the true and genuine Hiſtory of every one of them, without the leaſt Diſguiſe. 'Tis true, it is not well done to diſcover to the World the Faults of other People; yet the expoſing of them thus, was uſeful to perſuade many of them to reflect upon their own Conduct, and to be more circumſpect in time coming. But the worſt thing of thoſe Carols was, that they were ſo full of groſs Immoralities, that ma⯑ny who had but a ſmall ſhare of Religion deteſted them. The King (who was never of an Humour to bear with things of that nature, and leſs now than ever, that he is become devout in good earneſt) made a deal of noiſe about them; and ſaid openly before all the Court, that he had one good Counſel to give the Author of them, which was, that he would make his Eſcape in time, thereby to prevent the Puniſhments which he muſt inevitably undergo, if ever he come to be diſcover'd: If the Author had follow'd this Counſel, it had been the ſame thing as to have ac⯑cus'd himſelf; and therefore, whoever he was, he put as good a Face on it, as they could do who were ſenſible of their own Innocence. There is not the leaſt doubt but that he belongs to the Court, and that he is one of thoſe who are beſt acquainted with it; for no body elſe could know ſo well, the Hiſtory of every one's Life as that Author did; though after all he was miſtaken in ſome things: However, after [17] many had been ſuſpected, and among the reſt, a Lady of very great Quality, becauſe her Genius bends a little that way; it came at laſt to be generally belie⯑ved, that the Chevalier de Bouillon was the man, but becauſe there was no certain Proof of it, and that all that was ſaid, was founded only on ſuſpicion, he got no harm by it. The King was not ſatisfied that he had ſignified his diſpleaſure againſt this Au⯑thor, who had thus ſignalized himſelf for an impious Wretch, and perhaps for a Lyar too; (for it is not probable, that all the naſty things that are in thoſe Carolls, can be litterally true) but his Majeſty made it known alſo, that he would not take it well, if any body ſhould ſing them. But as there are ſome things above the Power of Kings, how great ſoever their Authority may be: So this Order took not much effect: every body ſung them as before, except that they were cautious not to do it, in the hearing of thoſe, who they thought would give an Account of it to his Majeſty. For we muſt underſtand, that there are abundance of ſpies about the Court; and though ſome of them are known, as the Marquis de Termes, and ſome others, yet there are of them who act their parts ſo cunningly, that there is nothing they are leſs ſuſ⯑pected of, than of being what they truly are.

It was not only in theſe Carolls and Songs, that the Conduct of the Ladies was publickly cenſur'd: a cer⯑tain Perſon, who is well known in the World, for an Im⯑ployment of a quite other kind, than what he is natu⯑rally fitted for, reſolv'd to cenſure them alſo, in the ſame manner that he has for a long time, cenſur'd all man⯑kind. As he ſets up for a Jeſter and maker of Ballads, he made ſome upon the Accou [...]rements, which the Ladies now make uſe of, that they may be ready for an Engagement; he brought them forth in ſlippers, and quilted Waſtcoats; ready to enter the Lifts: and though he nam'd no body, yet, as they who cenſure others, muſt not expect many thanks, eſpecially when vicious cuſtoms are laid ſo deep, that it s next to im⯑poſſible [18] to root them out, ſo his performances were ſo unacceptable, that as a Reward of his pains, he was ſoon born down and oppreſſed with a World of Cen⯑ſures and Reproaches. And that much after the ſame manner, that he had reproached others; that is, by Ballads and Lampoons: but with this difference, that whereas, in th [...]ſe which he had compos'd, he had been ſo civil, as not to name any body; [...]et they dealt ſo rudely by him, as to name him expreſly; and, which was harder upon him, that they might cha⯑ſtize him yet farther, they ſent Copies of their Lam⯑poons to his three Beſt Friends, the Cardinal de Bouillon, the Duke de Chawnes, and the Marchioneſs de Louvois; whoſe houſes he frequented daily, and who could not eaſily be without him. They were not well pleas'd, that others ſhould be ſo unjuſt, as to calumniate him, who had never calumniated any perſon, becauſe, as they ſaid he had not nam'd any, in the Songs which he had made: Yet they cannot ſay, but that ſince the time, that from being Maſter of Requeſts, he had dwindl'd into a Poet of the Pont⯑neuf; he has fallen foul upon ſeveral Perſons of Quality, without being ſo circumſpect; and there⯑fore he muſt not expect, that all the World will be ſo favourable to him, as was the Cardinal and his other Friends. And as there was no great injuſtice in finding fault with what he had done, as to the Ladies; ſo, many others as well as he were of opi⯑nion, that they had even done beſt, to have laid by their ſl [...]ppers and Waſtcoats. The thruſt he gave in, being thus ſmartly pareed, and return'd upon him⯑ſelf, the poor Fellow was forc'd to ſhut himſelf up in his little Cloſet, without daring to peep abroad for ſome days. But as every man returns ſoon to his natural Temper, and as the Ladies too did not fail to provoke him anew, not to ſpare them, as hitherto he had done; we have ſince had a thou⯑ſand Ballads of his making, where he repreſents them prettily enough.

[19] If Lewdneſs was ſo ordinary at this time among the Women, it was not much leſs ſo, among the Men; but eſpecially they were taken, with a very Frenzy and Madneſs, for which they could make no Apology; for beſides the Vice of exceſſive drink⯑ing, which many of them were addicted to, rather thro' bad cuſtom, than by natural inclination; they had got into an humour of preferring the Women Play⯑ers of the Playhouſe, and the Opera, to their own Wives, though never ſo handſome; and their Huſ⯑bands were much to blame for it, if they were not modeſt and circumſpect. And thus for the leavings of a great many other People, they forſook their own Wives, whom they might have enjoy'd all alone; yea, and provoked them too, to become common. For nothing more provokes a Wife to be unfaithful to her Husband, than when he ſlights her, and prefers other Women to her.

The Lords of the greateſt Quality, were not more exempted from this vice, than were others; though they be more obliged than other People, to give good Example, for the higher and greater a Man's Station and Character is, the more is his behaviour expoſed to the view of the publick.

There was one of them among the reſt, who fell in Love with a Woman of the Opera, which very much vexed his Friends and Relations; but there was one thing encouraged him in his amours, and ſerv'd to harden him in his ſhameful and lewd Practi⯑ces, and that was, that many of the moſt topping Ladies about the Court, went a purpoſe to the Opera, that they might ſee his Miſtreſs, and ſpeak highly to her advantage; for thoſe who enter once into a vi⯑cious way of living, can applaud Vice, with as little remorſe, as others applaud Virtue. Thoſe who were concern'd in this Nobleman, had perceiv'd ſometime before, that it was neceſſary to obſerve his conduct narrowly: and therefore they put a wiſe and ſober Man to attend him, who might give them an account [20] of his Behaviour. But as youth has an averſion to People of this ſort, and uſually conſiders them, as Pedagogues, whom they cannot bear with; ſo this young Lord endeavour'd, ſo ſoon as he could, to free himſelf of the bonds, which his friends had put upon him. All the young Gentlemen who made their court to him, confirm'd him as much as they could, in His Reſolution; and they call'd his Obſerver by the name of Caius Garrulus, which ſounded not unlike his own name, and they added an Epithite to it, which was ſomewhat ſuitable to his Employment. This young Gallant's Father, was extreamly concern'd, when he knew that his Son was ſo fond of this Actreſs: He ſpoke to him of it, as a thing which would ruin his Reputation. And at length he ſpoke to him, not only as from himſelf, but as from the King, to whom he knew that he pay'd very much Deference. And that his Counſels might make the greater impreſſion upon his Son's mind, he told him, that they who were fond of that ſort of People, met often with ſad miſ⯑fortunes; and that his Rank and Quality did not at all ſecure him againſt the treachery of a Coquette, and that if he muſt have a Miſtreſs, he ſhould at leaſt look for one, with whom he could live with greater ſafety than he could do with her. Notwithſtanding all the Deference he had for the King, and the Du⯑ty he ow'd to his Father, he made no other Anſwer, but that he would do all that was in his power, to ſatisfie both of them, but that he found ſo ſtrong an inclination for that Woman, that he knew not if it was in his power to diſengage himſelf altogether from her, on a ſudden. He continued (notwithſtanding all this) to viſit her, and having told her every word his Father had ſpoke to him, they agreed that he ſhould not pay her a viſit for ſome days. Caius Garrulus advertiſed the young Gallants Friends of the viſit he had paid, maugre all his Fathers Remonſtrances to the contrary; upon which account, his Father ſpoke once more to him, and told him, that he muſt be [21] very incorrigible, in that he had ſo ſoon forgot what he had ſaid to him formerly; and that being of ſo high a birth, as he was he ought at leaſt to have delay'd that viſit, for ſome days, thereby to give ſome proof of his obedience. He took him to task ſo ſeriouſly, as that the young Beau might have been perſwaded, to re⯑flect as ſeriouſly upon his own behaviour: He could not deny, but that he had paid her a viſit, but the anſwer he gave, was, that with all due regard, to the Deference he ow'd him, he thought that he had no juſt ground to reprove him; That Civility, and good Manners, had obliged him to go and tell her, that he was peremptorily diſcharg'd to have any more Correſpondence with her, and that having once had a kindneſs for her, he could do no leſs; for ſhe might have been juſtly enrag'd againſt him, had he caſt her off, without telling her why. That in the mean time, notwithſtanding the great deſire he had, to give him full ſatisfaction in that matter, yet he could not but own, that at the laſt viſit, he had found her more charming than ever; that it troubled him much when he reflected upon his own weakneſs, but that all he could do in obedience to his Commands, was, to pray to God, for Strength and Reſolution to obey them. His Father underſtood well enough, the meaning of all this, and conceiving no great hopes of him, he left him, being much out of humour, at his anſwer. It was two or three days before the Son paid another viſit to his Miſtreſs, yet he ſent Letters to her every hour, and gave her notice, that next day, his Father was to give a ſplendid Ball, and that ſhe muſt not fail to be there; but that ſhe ſhould come diſguiſed in ſuch and ſuch a manner, that he might know her by her Garb. This Ball was the fineſt that had been ſeen of a long time, and all the Court was pre⯑ſent at it, but this young Lord could not as yet ſee his Miſtreſs there, which put him out of humour, at a Lady, who would fain have had the ſame Intereſt in his affection, that the Actreſs had, and flattered her [22] ſelf, with hopes, that if ſhe was ſucceſsful, his Father and his other Friends, would not find ſo much fault with it: She began to rally him for being out of Hu⯑mour, that ſhe might thereby find a way, to bring about her own purpoſes, but he was not at leiſure to give her an anſwer, for he ſaw his Miſtreſs come into the Ball that very moment. She was diſguiſed in Man's dreſs, and he went immediately, and ſpoke to a young Princeſs, who was often engag'd in the Dance, that with the firſt opportunity ſhe would pleaſe to take out the young Spark, who was in ſuch and ſuch a dreſs, pointing to his Miſtreſs. She promis'd to do it, and was as good as her word. Caius Garrulus, who had always an eye upon him, having obſerv'd, that he look'd much to that ſide, where the new Masker was, and that immediately af⯑ter he had ſpoken to that Princeſs, he began to ſuſpect what it was he had ſaid to her, yet he would let no body know his Jealouſie, till he ſhould be fully aſſured that he was in the right. And obſerving this new Masker very narrowly, the more he viewed him, the more was he perſwaded that it was his Maſter's Miſtreſs. By this time there was one came and took out the young Princeſs to dance, and immediately after, ſhe took out this new Masker, which let Caius Garrulus clearly ſee that he was not miſtaken, for he knew ſo well by her dancing, that it was ſhe, whom he ſuſpect⯑ed, that tho' he had not had any other preſumptions, that alone was ſufficient to confirm him in his ſuſpici⯑ons. This Masker, who was truly the young Lord's Miſ⯑treſs, after ſhe had danced with the young Princeſs, was ſo affronted as to take out her Gallants Lady to dance with her. Caius Garrulus could bear no longer with her Impudence, but went and told his Maſters Fa⯑ther, who it was that had taken out his daughter in Law to dance: He had a good mind at firſt to have caus'd to throw her over the Window, and ſo had the young Lords Mother. But when they had reriected, that that would make too much noiſe, both [23] of them reſolved to try calmer methods, for break⯑ing off this correſpondence: they cauſed to inform him, that ſhe was falſe to him, and that others converſed familiarly with her; and unleſs he would give up converſe with her, it was not ſafe for his own Lady to bed with him. But though they endeavoured under hand, to raiſe all the jealouſies imaginable, in his mind, yet he would believe no⯑thing. After theſe endeavours, his Father was af⯑fraid, leſt what he would have had his Son to believe, ſhould prove true in good earneſt; and therefore he appointed a Woman, to attend his Sons Miſtreſs; and to obſerve her ſo narrowly, that it ſhould not be in her power to prove falſe to his Son.

This young Lord was not the only Perſon, who was fond of the Women of Opera and Playhouſe, con⯑trary to the duty he ow'd both to himſelf, and to his Lady; there were many others who after his Exam⯑ple, did the ſame thing; and but too many who had done it before him.

But among all thoſe, whoſe inconſiderateneſs is the moſt aſtoniſhing, the [...]e is not one more inexcuſable, than a certain Duke, who was old enough, to have given greater Proofs of his prudence; beſides that he had married a young Princeſs, of incomparable Beauty, and who deſerv'd beyond all compariſon, to have been more eſteemed, than all the Miſtreſſes, he could find among that ſort of Women. But no conſideration would prevail with him, againſt lewd⯑neſs, and he was not only unfaithful to her, but left her for good and all, and went to keep Houſe with his new Miſtreſs: Before this happened, his Father, who was one of the greateſt and richeſt Lords about the Court; had carried his Son's Lady, to his own Seat, in the Countrey, while her Huſ⯑band was in the Army. Her Mother who lov'd her moſt tenderly, was loath to part with her, and had much rather ſhe had ſtay'd with her, but could not [24] obtain it; Yet her Daughter wrote to her ſoon after, and beſought her to imploy all her intereſt with the King; that he would pleaſe to give orders that ſhe ſhould return, for ſhe was not at all ſafe, with her Father in Law who had ſpoken to her of Amours, not⯑withſtanding her relation to him; and that he had ſpoken ſo very earneſtly, that no time muſt be loſt; if ſhe had any concern for her honour, and the peace of her mind. It is not certain if all this was literally true, or if it was only concerted, between the Mo⯑ther and the Daughter, to get her brought out of that Countrey, where her Father in Law dwelt, and of which ſhe was wearied, that ſhe might live with her Mother, who longed ſo much for her company. Whatever was in this, the Lady having ſpoke of it to his Majeſty, obtained an order to the Dukes Fa⯑ther, to ſend his Daughter in Law back to Paris. He was enraged againſt both of them, for the af⯑front which they had put upon him; and therefore though he ought to have been the firſt, who ſhould have reproved his Son for converſing with his new Miſtreſs, which now began to appear; yet he was at no great pains, to diſſwade him from it; he al⯑ledg'd they had ſerved him a very Scurvy trick, and he was glad to revenge himſelf by this connivance. But if he thought this a good way to be revenged of them, he had very ſoon reaſon to be ſatisfied with it, for his Son became ſo paſſionately in love with this new [...], or rather he became ſuch a very Fool, as when he knew that ſhe was big with Child, he left his Wife, and went and lived with her: and his Father having given him no great yearly revenue, when he married him (though he himſelf had 400000 Livers a Year, beſides great Summs of Money in his Coffers, and not one Farthing of Debt,) he found himſelf ſo [...], becauſe of the two Families he had to provide for, and the charges he had been at in the Camp; that he reſolved to do, what People will ſcarcely believe of one of his quality, that was, to [25] live without Coach, and without that great number of Pages and Lackeys, that Men of his quality uſu⯑ally have about them, and thus he reduced all his expences for the Winter time, to a very ſmall mat⯑ter; having only one Lackey for himſelf, and ano⯑ther for his Miſtreſs; and theſe he put in gray Cloaths, that when he took a Hackney to go abroad, neither he nor they might be known; The Women Servants wereas few in number, as the Lackeys, ſhe had only a Chamber-maid and a Nurſe, and this laſt ſerv'd with both hands, that is, ſhe was Servant of the Houſe, and Nurſe at the ſame time. His Friends could bear no longer with his inconſiderateneſs, and this diſgrace⯑ful way of living; they ſpoke to him of it, as a thing that would ſtain his honour to ſuch a degree, that it would be impoſſible for him, ever to retrieve it, and that he might not be altogether confounded with ſhame, as he ought to be for ſuch Practiſes, they told him that this Woman had certainly bewitched him; that at leaſt they had reaſon to think ſo; ſince it was ſo unnatural a thing in him, to part with the moſt lovely Princeſs in the World, and to keep houſe with a beggarly Strumpet, whoſe very Trade and Profeſſion, was enough to make any body diſguſt her, though ſhe was a Thouſand times more charm⯑ing in her Perſon than ſhe ſeem'd to be. All the An⯑ſwer he made them was, that they ſpoke ſo of her, only becauſe they did not know her: But if they had converſed a little with her, they would ſoon be of another mind; in this they could not agree with him, and having taken leave of him, without being able to perſwade him to alter his meaſures, they were grieved that he continued ſo obſtinately to diſ⯑grace himſelf.

When they found this, they cauſed to ſpeak under⯑hand to the Woman her ſelf, and threatn'd, that they would have recourſe to Royal Authority, to have her ſhut up in a Convent, or in ſome Priſon, if ſhe would not even perſwade the Duke to part with [26] her. One in her condition could not be well pleaſed with ſuch a propoſal, and it quite confounded her. She knew that thoſe threatnings were not groundleſs, for ſhe had known a Woman kept in Priſon Seven or Eight Years, becauſe ſhe had been Miſtreſs to the Count D'Harcourt, whom we have already ſpoken of. And therefore being reſolved to prevent ſo great a miſchief, ſhe promiſed to do all that was in her power, to ſatisfy them; and ſhe was as good as her word, for that very day after ſhe had on ſet purpoſe, made a ſhow of melancholy to the Duke; ſhe told him that ſhe could not any longer converſe with him, as hitherto ſhe had done; becauſe her conſcience re⯑proached her continually with her guilt, and repre⯑ſented to her every moment, that ſhe only was the cauſe that he abandoned his Lady the Dutcheſs; and that every body blamed her for it, as no doubt ſhe deſerved to be, inſomuch that was there nothing but that one conſideration, ſhe was obliged to tell him, that he muſt reſolve to break up with her, ſince their converſe was equally ſhameful, and ſinful to them both. The Duke was ſurpriſed at a diſcourſe which he ſo little expected; but having ſtill the more eſteem of her upon this very account; becauſe the two things ſhe made uſe of as a pretence for this di⯑vorce, are agreeable to a Lover, that is his own in⯑tereſt and the virtue of the Perſon he loves; he did all he could to make her change her thoughts, but the fears of a Priſon made her deaf to all his reaſons and to all his careſſes; ſhe perſiſted in her reſolution to give over all converſe with him, and knowing nothing could more prevail with him to cauſe him to reflect upon his paſt conduct, than his own Lady's charming Beauty, which was indeed incomparably above hers, ſhe told him that if ſhe was as beautiful as his Lady, and if his Lady had nothing more charming about her than ſhe had, ſhe would not think it ſtrange that he ſhould forſake her, and live with her; but being obliged to confeſs, that all the ad⯑vantage [27] was upon his Ladies ſide, ſhe could not ſuffer any longer, that he ſhould be called a Man of ſo ill a taſte; as to chooſe the worſe, and to forſake the better. He wou'd fain have perſwaded her, that only her mo⯑deſty made her ſpeak ſo of herſelf, that if his thoughts were asked in that matter, he would ſoon tell juſt the contrary, that he was as capable as any other to judge of their Beauties, having converſed ſo much with her. But his Miſtreſs finding how he an⯑ſwered her, and that it was impoſſible to make him gainſay any thing of all this, ſhe betook herſelf to her firſt Argument; that her Conſcience would not allow her to converſe any longer with him.

The Duke conſidered all theſe diſcourſes, as the effect of ſome ſecret diſcontent, that had put her in⯑to an ill humour; and that he might bring her back to her ordinary Gaiety, he offer'd her ſome Preſents, but ſhe refus'd them generouſly, and as the moſt diſintereſſed Perſon in the World. In the mean time ſhe gave notice to thoſe who had threatned her, that ſhe was uſing her utmoſt endeavours to ſatisfie them, but if they were deſirous that ſhe ſhould ſuc⯑ceed, it was needful they ſhould do ſomething upon their parts. They beſtirred themſelves immediate⯑ly, knowing that it is beſt to ſtrike the Iron while it is hot; and they came a purpoſe to wait on the Duke. He would have reſiſted all the Batteries, they could have raiſed againſt him, had they been alone; but his Miſtreſs treating him with ſo much Indifference, and like a Woman who was abſolutely reſolv'd, to abandon her former Vices; he told them that there needed no more Importunities, for he was reſolved to give them full ſatisfaction: But if they would know the true reaſon, why he reſolv'd ſo; it was becauſe his Miſtreſs had determin'd him in it; ſhe who alone had a more abſolute Empire over him, than it was poſſible for all of them to have, when they were united together; that he chearfully and frankly own'd ſo much to them, hoping, [28] that for their parts, they would alſo acknowledge that ſhe was a much worthier Perſon than he could expreſs: an evident Proof of which was, that ſhe was fully reſolved, to bid adieu to all ſorts of Intrigues and Amours; a thing very unuſual for Women, af⯑ter they have once been accuſtomed to thoſe Pleaſures. But for her, he told them, that he had ſo good an opinion of her, he could be ſurety for her, ſhe ſhould never return to them, that at leaſt he would comfort himſelf, with thoſe thoughts of her. His Friends did not trouble themſelves, to diſpute this matter with him, nor were they ſuch fools as to inform him, how much they had frighted her with their threatnings, they thought it enough, that they had brought him to their own Terms, and it was all one to them, by what means ſoever it was done; the only thing they deſired was, how to bring the matter to an happy Iſſue, now that it was ſo well begun. They went to his Ladies Parents, and deſi⯑red, they might concurr with them in reconciling them together. But the Dutcheſs's Mother, (who after ſhe had once taken back her Daughter to her houſe, could never reſolve to part with her) told them reſolutely that ſhe would never conſent to it. The Dukes Father gave them much the ſame An⯑ſwer, for he continued to be extreamly angry, at what the young Princeſs had ſaid of him. But, as Men ordinarily yield ſooner to Reaſon than Women do, he was at laſt prevail'd with, but upon condi⯑tion, that when his Daughter in Law ſhould be re⯑concil'd to her Husband, ſhe ſhould not ſee her Mother any more. This was to throw Oyl into the Flame, and ſerv'd only to provoke the Ladies In⯑dignation, ſo that ſhe withſtood their Reconcile⯑ment more than ever. The Prince her Husband, was much wiſer and more reaſonable than ſhe was: He told her that by the Laws both of God and Man; they were oblig'd to contribute their endeavours for reconciling Husband and Wife; even though they [29] had but ſmall hopes to ſucceed in it: But that in this caſe ſhe was much more oblig'd to it, than o⯑thers were; becauſe it was the Concern of her Son in law, and her Daughter. But for all this, ſhe continued obſtinate, and ſhe had ſuch an Aſcendant over him, that he us'd to do nothing but what ſhe was pleas'd with, it was at laſt found neceſſary to ſpeak to the King of it.

His Majeſty was of the Fathers opinion, and thought that in procuring ſuch an Agreement, they ought not to ſtand upon Punctilios; and therefore order'd the Dutcheſs to follow her Husbands Ad⯑vice.

The Condition propos'd by her Son in law's Father, that ſhe ſhould not ſee her Daughter, was qualified, and ſhe was allow'd to ſee her ſometimes, but not above twice a Week, leſt the Dukes Father ſhould take it amiſs. It went much againſt the Ladies Stomach, that they ſhould ſet bounds to the Kind⯑neſs ſhe had for her Daughter; and therefore ſhe propos'd, that if ſhe was not to ſee her Daughter but twice a Week; then her Son in law's Father, ſhould not be allow'd to ſee her at all, and much leſs that they ſhould live in the ſame Houſe. They found out alſo a Medium for this, which was that he might ſee her, as often as his Son would allow him; and they told the Lady, that her Son in law, was more concerned than ſhe was, that his Father ſhould not ſee her Daughter; if all was true, that was ſaid of him. After all theſe things were con⯑certed, nothing remain'd, but to know, what the Duke would do with his Miſtreſs and his Child; and that he would pitch upon a day for being fully recon⯑ciled to his Dutcheſs. As to the firſt, he promis'd to allow them a Penſion, which perhaps he has not been over careful to perform; yet I will not vouch this for a Truth; but becauſe he was then as paſſio⯑nately in love with her as ever, I may preſume, he was prodigal enough of his Promiſes, but perhaps, he [30] has been as ſparing in performing them; for Lovers eaſily forget their Promiſes, when they are not any more to ſee the Perſon, to whom they are made. As to the other matter, he made no difficulty in it; the day was appointed, and there was a new Mar⯑riage ſolemniz'd. Before he went to Bed with his Wife, their Parents paid their Compliments to them, as if they had been, but a new married Couple: And their other Friends, after their example, did the ſame; in fine, they were both together, carried to the Opera, and to other publick places, that thoſe who had heard of their Divorce, might ſee that the greateſt Follies do not laſt always.

One would think, that ſuch an example as this, might have had, a good Influence, upon thoſe, who werefallen into the ſame frenſy, that is upon thoſe, who made but ſmall account of their Wives, for the ſake of theſe naughty Creatures; but we have not hitherto ſeen, any good that it hath done to a cer⯑tain Duke, who though he has not as yet parted with his Wife, as the other did; yet, he lives not in much better Terms with her; one of theſe un⯑happy Women of the Playhouſe, having by ſome means engaged his Affections. has ſo bewitchd him, that of a long time, he has had no Converſe with his Wife; and vet ſhe's very young, and which is more, ſhe's a Lady of great Vertue, which is ſo valuable an Accompliſhment, yea, and ſo ſingular in this Age, as to deſerve that a Husband ſhould eſteem it much more than he does.

'Tis true, ſhe is not ſo great a beauty, as is an Aunt of her Husbands, who yet has not been much more fortunate, though ſhe be a Lady of great Vir⯑tue, as well as her Neice. This Lady was married to a Perſon of Honour, and a Man of as good Sen [...]e as was about the Court, which is another reaſon why he ſhould have uſed her well; for the more a Man has of Honour and true Senſe, the more will he endeavour to acquit himſelf of his Duty. But he was ſo deſperately in Love with a young Lady, who [31] is alſo of great vertue, and is at this time Superiour of the Maids of St. Marie de Chaliot, that he could not open his eyes, to ſee how happy he might have been in his own Wife. And he did even much worſe, than did the two Dukes I laſt ſpoke of, for he did not ſo much as bed with her, the firſt Night of the Marriage: And if we will believe the accounts we have at Court, he ſuffered her to continue always a Maid, though they liv'd a long time together, and though there was never any publick breach between them. His Father, who was alſo a Man of good Senſe, and ſo far from approving his want of affection to this Lady, that he was extreamly vexed at it, when he perceived it, and told him his thought of it, very freely; and finding the Arguments he made uſe of, made him nothing the wiſer Man, he be thought himſelf of others, and try'd if perhaps they would be of greater force: He told him, that laying aſide the authority of a Father, he would now only adviſe him as his true Friend, and that all he had to ſay to him, was, that all the Court look'd upon his Wife, as a very agreeable Lady, and that among them who eſteem'd her much, ſhe might perhaps find one whom ſhe would think worthy of her Affection, that the beſt means how to prevent that, was for him to per⯑form the duty of a Husband to her, otherwiſe per⯑haps another might ſupply his place. This advice was ſound and wholſome, but as this young Gentle⯑man had ſhut his Eyes, and would not take notice of his Lady's true worth, ſo he ſtopt his Ears at his Father's Reaſons, and held on his courſe, without ever troubling himſelf, with the thoughts of his future deſtiny. Yet the Horoſcope, which his Father had caſt for him, prov'd falſe, for there was never a Lady at Court, made her ſelf be leſs talk'd of than ſhe did However, her Husband died, and ſhe kept for a ſecond Husband, that, which is ſo much valued in a Bride. She was reputed a Widow, but was truly a Maid when ſhe was married the ſecond time [32] And as if ſhe had been born under the ſtrangeſt Planet that ever was. 'Tis generally believed that this ſe⯑cond Husband, has not as yet made her change her condition. He was one of the handſomeſt men in France, yet altogether unfit for the Marriage Bed; and therefore his firſt Wife did not care much to dwell with him, though there was never any publick rupture between them, and though ſhe might have made a very good figure at Court too: But ſhe choſe rather to leave him there alone, and to revenge her ſelf of her hard fate, upon the Harts, and other wild Beaſts, with whom ſhe made War ſo long as ſhe liv'd. 'Tis true, that when ſhe was a dying, ſhe made a Will in his Favours, which would ſeem to import quite other things, than what I have been juſt now alledging; for it's ſeld [...]m that a Wife will be ſo obliging to a Husband, unleſs ſhe have firſt receiv'd of his Favours: But all Women are not of the ſame humour, and it muſt be ſaid to the advantage of this Lady, that as to this matter, ſhe was leſs concern'd, and much more modeſt, than many others are. Hunting was that which ſhe took greateſt Pleaſure in, and becauſe her Husband treated her always very kindly, ſave, in that, which moſt of other Women think the chief and eſſential part of a Husband's kindneſs. It ſeems ſhe made no great account of it; And ſhe had rather, that her Husband ſhould enjoy her eſtate, than ſome of her Relations, whom ſhe did not much eſteem. She gave the truſt of her Will, to the Duke De Leſ⯑deguires, but he being ſurpriſed with a ſudden Death, when he was leaſt thinking of it, and when he had lived but to half the Age, that by the courſe of Na⯑ture he might have done; it created much trouble afterwards to her Husband. Yet this was a ſea⯑ſonable relief to him, and he had much need of it, to repair the breaches he had made in his own eſtate, in the time he had been at Court.

As the Court is the place of the World, where the greateſt number of extraordinary things fall out: [33] ſo about the ſame time, that the terms of the Re⯑conciliation (which I ſpoke of) were agreed to; There was one thing happened that did not ſound well, for one of the principal Actors in it, and it has made People have but an ill Opinion of a Man, whom we now bring upon the Stage.

We muſt know then, that among other methods which the King had taken, to raiſe Money, for maintaining the War, he had publiſh'd an Edict, for the ſale of ſome Governments, within the h [...]art of the Kingdom; and there was more need of Money, for the purchaſe of them, than either of Service or Merit. There is a little Town nam'd Rue, lying towards Abbeville in Piccardy, and the late Duke d' Elbeuf, was formerly Governour of it. And his Son the preſent Duke d' Elbeuf, finding that it would be very convenient for him, that he had the Govern⯑ment of the ſame place, reſolv'd to purchaſe it. There was one Monſieur d' Augancourt, a Gentleman of that Country, who was neither rich nor much ta⯑ken notice of, ſome 25 Years ago, but has now a good eſtate, and lives in plenty, becauſe he belong'd to the late Marquis de Louvois, and carry'd his Portofolio, when that Miniſter went to do buſine [...]s with the King. This Gentleman, I ſay, deſign'd alſo to purchaſe it; and ſo ſoon as he knew that the Duke d' Elbeuf had the ſame deſign, he took an odd method, to carry it againſt him; a method, which any other Man than he, would have been afraid of, but he was for bold Adventures, that he might bring about his Deſigns, and becauſe he had not been altogether unſucceſsful in another buſineſs, wherein he was once like to have been quite ruin'd, he hop'd he might ſucceed well enough in this; eſpecially ſeeing what Friends or Intereſts ſoever, the Duke d Elbeuf could make, he was ſtill much leſs to be fear'd, than was his former Antagoniſt the Marquis de Barbeſieux. Yea it was not only with him he had contended, but with the whole Family of his Old Maſter the Mar⯑quis [34] de Louvois, whoſe Memory he endeavour'd to blacken. I ſhall firſt give an Account of this Affair, and then I ſhall return to his buſineſs with the Duke d'Elbeufe.

The Marquis de Louvois being dead, this d' Au⯑gincourt, who had the honour to be known to the King, becauſe he had ſo very often, carry'd this Mi⯑niſter's Portofolio, to the Door of his Majeſties Cloſet; having asked and obtained a ſecret audience, told him, that he thought it his Duty to advertiſe him of one thing, which his Majeſty knew nothing of before; which was, that his Majeſty had always be⯑lieved that all the projects which the late Marquis de Louvois had preſented to him, were of his own con⯑trivance, but it was far from being ſo, and that that Miniſter had always had recourſe to him, when he had any thing to do of Conſequence: That it was he who had projected ſuch and ſuch things, and that the Marquis de Louvois was never able of himſelf, to do any thing to purpoſe; that his undertakings at Maintenon, were a ſufficient proof of this, that at that place he had committed a great many faults, which he had never fallen into, had he but followed his advice, that he was ready to diſcover theſe faults and overſights to his Majeſty, who, becauſe of his great skill in Fortification, would ſoon be convinced, that what he ſaid was true. The King who is truly skilful in theſe things, and perhaps much more ſo, than many People believe of him, finding that he offer'd to prove to a demonſtration all the overſights, which he charg'd his late Miniſter with, gave him, upon that Account a fuller hearing than otherways he would have done. D' Augincourt having ſaid whatever he thought fit for his own advantage, and the King knowing that in ſome things he was in the right, though in ſome alſo he was miſtaken; was ſo far from telling him, that he did not approve of his ingrati⯑tude to his Maſter, to whom he had been obliged of his Eſtate, that though theſe were his Sentiments, [35] yet on the contrary he told him, that he would con⯑tinue the Penſion to him, which he had given him upon the Marquis D' Louvois's recommendation: D' Augincourt, though he was in ſome meaſure plea⯑ſed with the Kings bounty, becauſe the cont [...]nuing of the Penſion, was a Proof that his Majeſty ap⯑proved of what he had ſaid, yet he was not altoge⯑ther ſatisfied, for he had flattered himſelf, with the hopes of a much greater reward; and that his Ma⯑jeſty would make uſe of him, in his ſecret affairs, of which he pretended to have the Key; and expect⯑ing that the King would beſtow the late Marquis D'Louvois place upon him, he continued as often as he could find occaſion, to ſpeak all the ill of him he could think of. 'Tis impo [...]ble for one to behave himſelf after this manner at Court, but that a Mini⯑ſter ſhall have notice of it, and the Marquis D'Bar⯑biſeux was ſoon advertiſed of it, and he was ſtruck to the very Heart with it; eſpecially when he knew that the King had granted him his Penſion; by which he underſtood that his Majeſty believed ma⯑ny of the things which he had alledged againſt his Fathers Memory. Theſe thoughts galled him ſo much, that he reſolved to be revenged on him, and meeting with him that very day, as he was going to the Kings Appartments, he was not Maſter enough of his Paſſions, for at firſt ſight he gave him very harſh Language as he well deſerved, but D' Augincourt who flattered himſelf, that ſince the King had heard him ſo favourably, he would cer⯑tainly grant him the honour of his Protection, an⯑ſwered him with as much inſolence, as if he had never been his Fathers domeſtick. This inſolent behaviour raiſed the Marquis D'Barbiſeux's paſſion to ſuch a height, that he himſelf forgot the reſpect he owed to the place he was in; he took him by the Cravate and would have certainly ſtrangled him, had not his Friends put him in mind, that the King would be highly offended at what he was doing. He yeilded [36] to their reaſons and went immediately to the King, and told him, that he came to beg his pardon, for ſomething he had done in a ſudden fit of paſſion; that his Majeſty knew how unaccountable D' Augincourts ingratitude was, towards his Father, tho' it was to him he owed all he had; that he had met with him accidentally at the door of the Antichamber; and not being able to command his paſſion, he had offered ſome violence to him, of which he humbly ac⯑knowledged himſelf guilty, that tho' his paſſion laſted but a moment, becauſe he had reflected upon it, yet he did not pretend to be excuſable upon that account, and therefore he would ſubmit to all the puniſh⯑ments, that his Majeſty ſhould order for him, only he beſought him to conſider how natural it was for a Son, to be ſenſibly t [...]ched with every thing that concerned his Fathers Honour. The King having heard him calmly, anſwered him, that it was good for him that he had ſo ſoon reflected upon his fault, and had put a ſtop to the courſe of his paſſion; but that he had done better if he had reflected ſooner upon it, ſo as not to have committed it, that yet he would pardon him upon the account of what a Son ow'd to his Father; but upon condition always, that he ſhould never again fall into the like enormity. The Marquis De Barbiſeux acted like a wiſe man, thus to prevent the other in addreſſing himſelf to the King; for ſcarcely had he done it, when D' Augincourt preſented himſelf before his Majeſty, and demanded juſtice for the ill treatment he had met with from his Miniſter. The King told him he ſhould have it, but that he would firſt examine how the matter went; but ſeeing he had once promiſed to pardon the Mar⯑quis D' Barbiſeux, all the ſatisfaction D' Augincourt could ever obtain, was that his Majeſty told him, he had given him ſuch a reprimand as was proper, and that he would be wiſer in time coming, he told him alſo, that when one had been a menial Servant to a Man, as he had been to the Marquis D'Louvois, [37] he ought to behave himſelf reſpectfully towards his Children.

D'Augincourt might have learned from this, to have been wiſer afterwards, than to contend with one that was above him, yet never thinking that the ſame accident might befall him, if he fell again into the ſame Errour; he no ſooner formed the deſign of carrying the Government of Rue againſt the Duke D'Elbeuf, but he gave in a memoir againſt him to the King, which contained that this Prince, had been ſeveral times guilty of extortioning the People, within the bounds of his Government of Piccardy and Artois, and that his Majeſty might give credit to this, he offered to prove it, ſo ſoon as he was commanded to do it: the King who knew that this Prince had ſome good qualities, for which he is deſervedly eſteemed, was troubled to ſee him ſtain'd with ſo black an ac⯑cuſation, as that of extortion is. Not but that he knew well enough, that accuſations are not always true; he had ſeen abundance of inſtances in his own time, where the Accuſations fell back upon the Heads of the Accuſers; as it happened to Courbier and ſome others. But becauſe this memoir was ſo conceived, as to have all the appearances of truth, the King knew not well what to ſay of it, and would not ſo much as ſpeak of it; but the Duke D'Elbeuf, finding that the Farmers of the Kings revenues, asked much more for the Government of Rue, than it was worth, becauſe D'Augincourt had offered them Money, he had recourſe to the King that he might not fall into their Hands.

His Majeſty, who remembred what the other had ſaid to his diſadvantage, inſtead of anſwering him, ſo obligingly as he uſed to do, told him only, that he would conſider of it. The Duke who knew his Majeſties humour, which is to be kind and obliging, even to Perſons of far leſs quality than he concluded preſently from this anſwer, that ſome perſon had done him an ill office; He did all he cou'd, [38] for ſome days, to diſcover who it might be, and knowing that D'Augincourt, had an Eye upon the Government of Rue, he was almoſt perſwaded that he was the Man. His Ingratitude to his late Maſter, was enough to make him entertain theſe thoughts of him, yet that he might be more aſſur'd of it, he ſpoke again to the King, and begg'd to know, if he had as yet conſidered of his Requeſt, as he had promiſed to do: His Majeſty told him, that he had thought of it, but it could not be granted him, for ſome Reaſons which he was unwilling to tell him. The Duke D'Elbeuf, was yet more ſurprized at this Anſwer, than he was at the firſt, and was more per⯑ſwaded than ever, that the King was not well pleaſed with him, and therefore he ſupplicated His Majeſty, with the greateſt Earneſtneſs, that he would be graci⯑ouſly pleaſed to tell him what it was, that he had to lay to his Charge. His Majeſty anſwered him, that he had reſolved to conceal it from him, that thereby he might ſave him the trouble, which the know⯑ledge of it would certainly give him. But ſince he was ſo very earneſt to know it, he would tell him plainly, that he had received a Memoir a⯑gainſt him, wherein he was accus'd, of extortion⯑ing the People who lived under his Juriſdiction. 'Tis true the Duke D'Elbeuf, who is not very rich, and who loves to live great, and therefore had need to make the beſt advantage of every thing; had us'd his utmoſt Skill and Induſtry, in looking narrowly after his Affairs, ſo that nothing that did of right belong to him, could eſcape him; but how much ſoever he look'd after his own Intereſt, yet he had never been an Extortioner; and he could not endure that he ſhould be unjuſtly accuſed of it: And therefore, he requeſted His Majeſty, that In⯑quiry ſhould be made into it. He told him that he who was but a Young man, had raſhly done ſome things in his time, which his Majeſty could not approve of, that he moſt humbly begg'd pardon [39] for them, as he had alſo done, when he was firſt charged with them; but that he was content to loſe his Head, if ever he was in the leaſt guilty of what was now laid to his Charge. The King who was prepoſſeſſed with an Opinion, that D'Au⯑gincourt would never have dared, to have given him the Memoir, if he had not been well aſſured, that what it contain'd was true; eſpecially ſince he lived in the Neighbourhood, where he pretended that the Duke had been guilty of the Extortions; anſwered him, that he would not at all adviſe him, to ſearch this matter to the bottom, leaſt perhaps it might prove more to his hurt than he expected, and that at leaſt it was probable it would prove ſo. This anſwer afflicted him yet more, than any of the former Anſwers had done; and therefore he continued to ſolicit His Majeſty, that he would be pleaſed to allow him to juſtify him⯑ſelf. The King turned away from him, to ſpeak to another Perſon of Quality, to whom he had ſomething to ſay: And the Duke d'Elbeuf going out with an heart full of Sorrow, reſolved to em⯑ploy all his own and his friends Intereſts, that he might be allowed to clear himſelf of this Calumny. As he went out of the Antichamber, he found D'Au⯑gincourt with one of his Friends at the door of the Guard-hall, he took him aſide, to ſpeak to him in private. D'Augincourt left his friend alone, and the Duke asked him, if perhaps he was not the Man, who had given the King a certain Memoir, of which his Majeſty had been juſt now ſpeaking to him? D'Augincourt who had ſo much Impudence as to ſpeak ill of his dead Maſter, by whoſe fa⯑vour it was, that he had acquired all that he was worth; was impudent enough to own in the Dukes face, that he was the very Man; and which was more, he told him that he had promiſed to the King, to make good every thing that was in that Memoir, and that e're it was long, he would [40] be as good as his word. The Duke was ſo wiſe, as not to do as the Marquis de Barbiſieux had done, when he fell into his hands. But inſtead of that, he contented himſelf to tell him, that he was ſatisfied to know, how far his Impudence had carried him, that he might come to be treated as he deſerv'd, at another time, and in another place; that he would take notice of him, and at laſt he threaten'd him, that he would cauſe him to be cudgelled to death for a Raſcal as he was. D'Augincourt went and complain'd to the King, and demanded Juſtice of him. The King told him, he was ready to do him Juſtice, but he muſt firſt prove what he had alledged againſt the Duke d'Elbeuf; who expreſly denied all that he had charged him with: And if he had calumniated him without ground, then the Duke had much more reaſon to demand Juſtice than he had. The Duke re⯑turn'd to wait upon the King, and requeſted him to appoint Judges, to enquire into that matter; for if that were not done, his Reputation ſhou'd be brought into queſtion, and that it was not juſt, that in prejudice of his Innocence any credit ſhould be given, to ſuch a lying Wretch as D'Augincourt: He told him at the ſame time, the deſigns that D'Augincourt had upon the Government of Rue, and that he had taken this method of calumniating him, fearing leaſt other⯑wiſe, he ſhould not be able to carry it againſt him. The King who is extreamly prudent and judicious, began to perceive how the matter ſtood, as ſoon as he heard this; and he gueſs'd, that Jealouſie and intereſt, had made D'Augincourt do what he had done; and therefore he allowed that the Duke ſhould clear himſelf; and promiſed to name Judges for that Affair: and which was more, he told him, that if he found D'Augincourt had accuſed him falſly, he ſhould cauſe to inflict any Puniſhment upon him, that the Duke thought fit. But the Judges were not named, for ſome time [41] after; inſomuch that now, when I am writing theſe Memoirs; this Affair is not as yet ended.

The young Beaus of the Court; were become ſo profligate, that many lewd Women, came to be in vogue among them; and among the reſt, the Women of the Playhouſe and the Opera: But there were ſome others beſides them, who came to be as much eſteemed as they were; and eſpecially one Ma⯑demoiſelle Chambonneau, the Daughter of a Gentle⯑man of Poiton, who finding her ſelf every way fit⯑ted for Amours, thought it was pity, to bury ſo good Qualities, in an obſcure Country place; and therefore, ſhe came to Paris, where ſhe might ſet them forth; in the view of the fineſt City, and of the fineſt Court in the World. Prince Philip, was one of her firſt Admirers; but he dy⯑ing ſoon after, there were others ſucceeded him, who were fully equal to him, both for Perſonal Worth and Quality, ſo that ſhe was no looſer by the Change. But before I ſay any more of her, I beg leave to give an account of a ſilly Imper⯑tinence of the Marſhal de Milleraies Lady, who is the moſt whimſical Woman in the World, as to what concerns Quality.

This Prince had not lived a very Chriſtian Life, at leaſt, ſo far as appeared to the View of the World: And there was a devout Lady, who ſoon after his Death, ſaid in a publick Company, where the Marſhal's Lady was; that his Salvation was much to be doubted of, conſidering how irreli⯑giouſly he had lived; that many People had been Witneſſes of his Debaucheries, but none had ever heard of his Repentance. The Marſhal's Lady anſwered, that ſhe confeſſed that all that was true; but that God was merciful, eſpecially to a Perſon of Prince Philip's Quality; and that ſince God was good to all Mankind, he would be much more ſo, to ſuch a Man as he was; and when it came to the damning of a Perſon of ſo great [42] Quality, God would think twice upon it before he did it: The Lady to whom ſhe made this Anſwer, would not let her paſs with it, though ſhe knew her weak ſide, and that ſhe was but a magotty Woman about theſe things, and therefore ſhe could not hope for much ſatisfaction, from any thing ſhe could ſay about them.

But to return to my Subject, Madam Cham⯑bonneau, being the Widow of a Perſon of ſuch a Character, and being married to a ſecond Hus⯑band, who is yet more of it, all the young People of Quality reſorted to her Houſe. Her new Hus⯑band was not at all jealous of her, and allow'd her to ſee every body. And ſhe got a good num⯑ber of young Favourites about her, out of which ſhe was ſure to make a choice of ſuch Debauchees as were moſt agreeable to her humour; eſpecially the Count de Donſi, eldeſt ſon to the Duke de Nevers, a Man of as odd a Temper as his Father is; and to give his Character in one Word, I need only ſay, that he has all the Vices of the Manchinies, yea, and ſurpaſſes them in two things, that are ex⯑treamly ſhameful in any man; but eſpecially in a Perſon of his Quality. He can ſcarce ſpeak a word without adding the Name of God to it, and Blaſphemes as often as he ſpeaks. And as for Drinking, it would ſeem that in what place ſoe⯑ver he is, Bacchus had ſet up his Throne, and kept Court there: Yet theſe are the two great Quali⯑ties he boaſts moſt of, whereas he ought rather to conſider them, as very dangerous Diſtempers; for in my opinion, he who is become a Slave, to two ſuch diſgraceful Vices, may juſtly look up⯑on himſelf, as the moſt wretched and miſerable of all Mortals. Notwithſtanding all this, he is ſo very comely and handſome in his Perſon, that were he as ſound in the Head, as he is well ſhap'd in the Body, we might eaſily excuſe not only this Mad. Chambonneau, but many others; who after her [43] Example, ſhould ſhow ſome Affection for him▪

This Counts Father, (who is ſordidly penurious in ſome things, tho' in others he ſeems rather to be prodigal) did not allow him ſo much as one far⯑thing of Money, which was the reaſon, that he had neither Servants nor Equipage. Perhaps he would have had him to go to the Market as he did himſelf; for we muſt know, that when the humour takes him, he makes no ſcruple to go thither: And 'tis pretty odd to ſee a Knight of the Holy Ghoſt with his blew Ribband, in a Publick Market, asking a Fruit woman, how ſhe ſells her Fruit and her Carrots. There was a man came once, and told Monſieur Baville Intendant of Lan⯑guedoc, that he was ſeen doing ſo in the publick Market at Montpellier, but he could not tell his Name, for he that had ſeen him, did not know him; he ſent immediately to all parts of the Town, to know who this Knight of the Holy Ghoſt might be, that was come thither; and ſo ſoon as he knew that it was the Duke de Nevers, he went to pay him a Viſit; and that he might engage him to reflect upon his own Conduct, as unwor⯑thy of his Character; he told him, that he ſhould not have known that he was in that Town, but that it had been told him, that he was ſeen in the Market, that when he firſt heard of it, he could not beleive it, till it was confirm'd to him by ſo many People, that at laſt he was forced to give credit to it, leſt he ſhould ſeem to be too incre⯑dulous. The Duke anſwered him, that he had gone from his Lodgings, with a deſign to pay him a Viſit, but that having thought it too early, and that he would not be up ſo ſoon; he had done after the Cuſtom of Italy, which allows Maſters to go themſelves, and buy whatever they have a mind to eat; that he knew it was not ſo in France, but that for his part, he never ſtood upon ſuch ſmall matters, ſo that he might have the ſatisfaction to [44] have nothing upon his Table, but what did reliſh with him.

But this Man is of a ſingular humour in other things beſides this, eſpecially in his way of Houſe⯑keeping. For when he is not to have any Strangers at his Table, he gives fifty Sols a day for himſelf, and as much for his Lady, to the Steward of his Houſe, who muſt therewith provide victuals for them both; and as to his Servants, he gives Ten Sols for every one of them, ſo that he is in no great hazard of being cheated; ſince the Steward can neither augment nor diminiſh the daily Allow⯑ance. By this means its only when he entertains Strangers, that any thing beyond ordinary is to be ſeen in his Houſe, and it's then, that he uſes to go himſelf to the Market, which might be thought a ſure Mark of a penurious Humour: Were it not that there is one thing remarkable in his Houſe, that is not to be found elſewhere, and that is, that if a⯑nother Man have one Cook, and an Under-cook; This Duke has ſix, or at leaſt four of them; for he has an humour, that he will not ſuffer that one Cook ſhould meddle but with one thing: So that he, who has the charge of the Roaſt Meat, never med⯑dles with the Ragoo's, and he who has the charge of the Ragoo's, meddles not with the more dainty Diſhes; and ſo of the reſt.

A Man of ſo ſingular an humour as this is, could never allow his Son to live ſuch a Life as he did; he had already quit his Houſe, ſo as not to lodge in it, and he thought it high time to give a check to his extravagant way of living; he ſent to him, and warn'd him not to ſee Mad. Chambonneau any more, or elſe he knew what remedies to find for his Diſtem⯑per. He was afraid either that he ſhould run him⯑ſelf into debt, by ſpending too much with her, or that he ſhould be ſuch a Fool, as to marry her pri⯑vately, as was reported of him. He had reaſon to look upon him, as a Man that was capable of any⯑thing [45] that was fooliſh and extravagant, though there had been no other ground for it, but only this, that he had taken upon himſelf the Title of a Duke, though it did not all belong to him, and which is yet worſe, had no ground to hope that ever it ſhould belong to him, for his Father's Patent is not for his Poſterity, but only for his own Life time. So that when he comes to die, his Fa⯑mily has done with that Title; as it happened not long ago to Monſieur Vieuville. By this, we may eaſily judge of the Father's humour, for he married his Lady, when her Aunt, Madam de Monteſpan, was in greateſt favour with the King, and at her greateſt height; yet he neglected to have that Honour enſur'd to his Poſterity and Family, tho' it would have coſt him nothing to obtain it, if he had but asked it.

However, the Count de Donſi, who had heard, that while his Father was a young Man, he had liv'd much after the ſame manner, that he did himſelf now while he was alſo young; and that he could not juſtly challenge him, for copying after his example, anſwered the Gentleman whom his Father had ſent to him, that he could not think of leaving Paris, as he would have him do. The Duke procur'd a letter de Cachet from the King, for comitting him to the Baſtile.

Mad. Chambonneau went the firſt and ſecond day after he was taken up, and wandered up and down about the Caſtle, to try, if perhaps ſhe might ſee him upon the Terraſs, or in the Windows; but ſhe dar'd not adventure to go in, and inquire for him, for they had threatned to put herſelf in Priſon, if ſhe ſhould be found in a diſguiſe, offering to pay him a viſit: But ſhe was ſo much a Coquette, that in two or Three days, ſhe became indifferent, whether ſhe ſhould ever ſee him again or no; ſhe troubled herſelf no more about him, but conſidered him as a dead Man, becauſe he was no more in a con⯑dition to do her ſervice. Only ſhe thought fit to keep ſome rules of decency with him, and there⯑fore [46] ſhe wrote ſome Letters to him, and expreſſed herſelf as tenderly, as if ſhe had loved him as much as ever, and even imployed Mademoiſelle de Soiſ⯑ſons (who's conduct is not much approved of, by thoſe who are concerned in her Perſon and Intereſt) that ſhe might aſſure him of it. Mademoiſelle de Soiſſons went twice or thrice to the Baſtile to deliver her Commiſſion, and it may be ſhe was glad of the opportunities, that ſhe might ſee him her ſelf. But the Duke de Nevers, (who was jea⯑lous of her, and to whom the Governour of the Caſtle, would not refuſe any favour, becauſe he ow'd his Fortune to Cardinal Mazarin the Dukes Uncle,) prevailed ſo far that ſhe was ſtopt at the Gate, and not ſuffered to enter, as if it had been by order from his Majeſty. This was a notable affront for this Princeſs; who tho' ſhe was warned of what was to befall her, yet could not believe that the Governour dar'd do ſuch a thing, becauſe ſhe was grand Niece of the ſame Cardinal, to whom he had been Captain of the Guards.

But as he had learned from him, to make no great account of any ſort of People, but of thoſe who were rich and powerful; and ſhe being neither the one nor the other, becauſe of the many Diſaſters, that had befallen her family, he got ſoon over thoſe conſiderations, that ſo he might gratify the Duke. She might have complained of this to the King, if ſhe durſt have ſpoken to him, but his Majeſty was far from having any eſteem for her, and he had already cauſed notice to be given her, that if ſhe did not alter her conduct, he would be obliged to ſend her orders, that would not at all pleaſe her; and therefore ſhe had ra⯑ther put up the affront, and be ſilent, than by complaining, to put his Majeſty in mind, that ſhe did not live as a Lady of her quality ought to do. Yet the King did not forget her ſo ſoon, he remembered her more than ever; now that the [47] Duke of Burgundy had married the Princeſs of Savoy. The honour that Mademoiſelle de Soiſſons, had, to be of the ſame Family that the Princeſs is of, made him often reflect, how unworthy it was of her Character and Quality to live as ſhe did; and ſeeing ſhe would not be reclaim'd, by what was ſaid to her, either from the King, or from her Friends, he ſent her a Letter de Cachet, to de⯑part out of the Kingdom.

Her Siſter Mademoiſelle Carignan got alſo a ſe⯑cret rebuke, though her conduct was not altoge⯑ther ſo diſorderly as hers was; yet ſhe came to be talked of, as converſing too frequently with a certain Duke, who was married: The King there⯑fore ſent to her, and offered her an Apartment at Verſailles; upon condition that ſhe would take a Governeſs of his naming. She had one already, who was as old a Woman as any I know; and Mademoiſelle Carrignan took occaſion from this, to excuſe her ſelf, for not accepting the honour which his Majeſty had deſigned for her, and ſhe told thoſe who ſpake to her from his Majeſty; that it would occaſion the death of her old Go⯑verneſs, if ſhe ſhould now put her a way, when ſhe had been ſo long time with her; that it would look like a Tacite Accuſation, that ſhe had not been ſo careful as ſhe ought to have been of her Education; that in all appearance ſhe could not live long; and that ſo ſoon as ſhe was dead, there could be nothing which ſhe would ſo much re⯑joyce at, as to make good uſe of the Favors, which his Majeſty was pleaſed to offer her. Mademoiſelle de Carignan, having by this means got her ſelf off, ſhe was very well pleaſed, that ſhe had thereby ſhun'd the conſtraint, under which ſhe ſhould have been, had ſhe liv'd at Verſailles. She choſe rather to keep her own little Court at the Hotel de Soiſſons, than to be one of thoſe, who make [48] up the ſplendour at the Princeſſes Court: The good old Woman Madam de St. Martin who is her Governeſs, was extreamly well pleaſed, a [...] the anſwer ſhe had made; in the mean time, the Duke was advertiſed of this, and it was deſired of him that he would take care, not to pay her ſo many viſits, as he uſed to do; leſt the King ſhould ſend her ſuch another order, as he had ſent to her Siſter.

Mademoiſelle Chambonneau was in a great conſter⯑nation, when ſhe heard of Mademoiſelle de Soiſſon's fate; ſhe was affraid, that ſince the King had dealt ſo hardly by a Perſon of her Birth, he might come to deal more ſeverely by her, how ſmall provocation ſoever, ſhe ſhould give him; ſhe therefore intreated many of the young Beaus that frequented her houſe, that they ſhould come but ſeldom thither. But he who had ſucceeded to Prince Philip having encouraged her, by an Oath that he made to her, that he would preſerve her, from all hazards; ſhe ſoon recall'd thoſe whom ſo lately ſhe had adviſed to ſeek for diverſions elſe⯑where. But there were two of them, whom ſhe endeavoured all ſhe could, to diſcourage from coming to her Houſe; becauſe ſhe thought neither of 'em fit for her purpoſe; the one was the Baillif D'Auvergne, eldeſt Son of the Count D'Au⯑vergne; who had already ſo much offended his Fa⯑ther, that he had nothing to expect from him. For he had forced him to ingage himſelf in the order of Malta, and to give up his right of primogeni⯑ture in Favours of that Brother, who was next to him in age. The other was the Chevalier de Kailus, a younger brother of the Marquis de Kailus, who has married Mademoiſelle de Vilette, a Couſin of Madam de Mantenons. This Man had not the ſame faults that the Baillif de Auvergne had; yet he had as ſmall a ſhare in Mademoiſelle Chambonneau's Fa⯑vors as the other had, though I know not upon [49] what account it was ſo. And ſhe endeavoured to ſet them at variance, that by the one, ſhe might come to get rid of the other; or rather, that ſhe might get rid of them both at the ſame time. The beſt means ſhe could think on for this, was, under pretence of Friendſhip, to make every one of them believe, that the other ſpake much to his diſadvantage; they eaſily believ'd what ſhe ſaid, for each of them was perſwaded, that ſhe loved him dearly; and therefore, thought it im⯑poſſible, that ſhe could tell him any thing, that was falſe. They began then to look a ſquint up⯑on one another, but their Reſentments were too ſtrong to ſtop there. They agreed to do one ano⯑ther Juſtice, with Sword in hand; and to try, which of them Madm. de Chambonneau ſhould be⯑long to. They agreed to meet, in the Court of the Abbey of St. Germain, and that the one of them ſhould make, as if he were going into the Church, while the other was coming out of it, that ſo, it might ſeem, that they had met only by chance; for they knew, how ſevere the King was to thoſe, that dar'd to tranſgreſs his Edicts; and eſpecially that, which he had made againſt Duels: they knew, that he could never be prevail'd with, to grant a Pardon to any Man who had been ſo un⯑fortunate, as to fall into that Crime.

They met, as they had appointed, and drew their Swords, but were parted before much blood was ſhed. Yet the one of them wounded the o⯑ther, and each of them retir'd to a Friends houſe; and reſolved not to come abroad, till they ſhould know firſt, if it was ſafe for them to appear; but they had notice very ſoon, that they ſhould do well to lurk; and that the King was no ſooner informed of their fighting, but that he had ſent an Order to the Procuror General of the Parliament, to en⯑quire after that Matter. The Count d' Auvergn went at the ſame time to Verſailles, and ſaid to [50] the King, that though he came to beg a favour of him, yet it was not at all for his Son, who had now of a long time behav'd himſelf ſo unworthi⯑ly, that he did not concern himſelf in any thing upon his Account.

But ſeeing, as the caſe ſtood, if he was ſenten⯑ced to die, the like Sentence muſt neceſſarily paſs againſt the Chevalier de Kailus, who deſerv'd much better than his Son did, that his Condition and Circumſtances ſhould be regarded; he did therefore, upon his Account, rather than upon his own, ſupplicate His Majeſty to give Orders, that the whole Affair might be well examined; for if there was any credit to be given to thoſe who waited on his Son, he had fought only upon an acciden⯑tal Rencounter, and without any premeditated de⯑ſign to tranſgreſs His Majeſty's Laws. It would have been a very extraordinary thing for a Fa⯑ther, (who what Faults ſoever his Son hath com⯑mitted, eaſily forgets them, when his Life is at Stake,) thus to have expreſſed himſelf, in good earneſt; but it was fit, the Count ſhould uſe ſome Art upon ſuch an Occaſion. He knew, that ſome⯑times Prudence will oblige a Man to blame thoſe, who he deſigns ſhould be found innocent; eſpe⯑cially, when he is ſpeaking to thoſe whom they are accountable to, for what they have done; and who are offended with them. For as one ſeldom gains any thing, by oppoſing a paſſionate Man, while his Anger is at its height; but upon the other hand brings him ſooneſt to Reaſon, by ſeem⯑ing to go along with him in his Sentiments; ſo it is with regard to a Prince, who alledges, that ſuch a man has tranſgreſſed his Laws; and there⯑fore deſerves to be puniſhed. However, the King having given him as favourable a Reception, as he could have deſired; anſwered him, that both for his Sons ſake, and for the ſake of the Chevalier de Kailus, he wiſhed that it might be found ſo, [51] as he had heard; but that he would be very ſoon informed of it, for he had already given ſuch ſtrict Orders about it, that it was altogether need⯑leſs to give any more.

In the mean time, the King came to be infor⯑med, that it was upon Madam Chambonneau's Account, that they had come to fight; and that ſhe had induſtriouſly ſet them together by the Ears, by her falſe Reports: Upon which he ſent a Letter de cachet, ordering her to be baniſh d to Rowan. There were ſome young Counſellors of that Parliament, who got into a humour of courting her, but ſhe found a great difference between them, and that great croud of Perſons of Quality, who uſed to frequent her Houſe at Paris. And being ſoon wearied of that Town, ſhe would have lan⯑guiſhed to death, but that ſhe hoped, that her Friends would employ all their Intereſts to have her recalled. But as among the vaſt number of Women, who live as ſhe did, there are but few, who are ſo fortunate as was Ninon Lendos; that is, there are but few of them, who have the art to engage People to love them, notwithſtanding all the Lewdneſs they can be guilty of; ſo thoſe who had ſeen her at Paris, forgot her much ſoo⯑ner than ſhe thought of. And at laſt having loſt all her hopes, ſhe was ſo overwhelmed with grief, that ſhe died ſoon after.

The Duke de Nevers, who while ſhe was at Rowan, knew his Son's Character better, than to be affraid that he would be at the pains to go thither, (for the Count de Donzi is a Man who can very ſoon forget both Friends and Miſtreſſes) the Duke de Nevers I ſay, who had nothing to fear on that ſcore, got an Order to ſet him at liberty: But it was upon condition, that he ſhould go to Mou⯑lins, and wait there, till the Duke de Vendome his Couſin, with whom he had made the laſt Cam⯑paign, and with whom he reſolved that he ſhould [52] make the next, ſhould be in a readineſs to ſet for⯑ward for the Camp. In the mean while, Ma⯑damoiſelle de Soiſſons left Paris, in obedience to the King▪s Commands, and went to her Mother a [...] Bruſſels.

This Lady, who while her Husband was alive had been an Honour to France; as far, as a coſtly and magnificent way of living can be accounted ſo; had fallen on a ſudden, (if I may ſo ſay, from Greatneſs and Splendor, into Poverty and Miſery: having been accuſed of poyſoning her Huſ⯑band; for which ſhe was forced to make her Eſ⯑cape into Flanders, without having ſo much as 24 Hours allowed her, to put her Affairs in order If we may give credit to what ſhe ſays herſelf ſhe was altogether innocent of this Crime: And it was her mortal Enemy, the Marquis de Louvois, who had forged that Accuſation againſt her, becauſe ſhe would never be in Friendſhip with him. But whatever may be in this, 'tis certain, that at Court, ſhe has always been reputed guilty of that Crime. Whether it be, that ſhe has ſtill powerful Ene⯑mies there, or that the King is convinced, that ſhe is not unjuſtly accuſed, I cannot tell; but there is not one, that offers to eſpouſe her Intereſts. Before that Madamoiſelle de Soiſſons went to that Country, it was reported, that ſhe would go to Avignon, and that Madam de Soiſſons her Mother, would go and live there alſo: becauſe ſhe could not live any longer at Bruſſels, where every thing was ſo dear. A certain Woman named Vendome, who is well known at Court, not by her Quality, but becauſe ſhe brings thither Sallads for the King and Nobility, which are better than any that comes from another hand; hearing, that this Princeſs was brought ſo very low, and remembring her former Splendour that ſhe had often ſeen; was ſo touched with Compaſſion for her, that ſhe ſent her as much Money, as one of her ſmall Stock [53] was able to ſpare, and 'tis ſaid, that ſhe received it; yea, and that ſhe was very well pleaſed with it. But this is what I cannot aver for a truth, tho' I have heard it told to ſome Perſons of the greateſt Quality, who may have known ſomething of it themſelves. But I can ſcarcely believe, that this Princeſs, was ever reduc'd to ſo great Straits, as to accept of ſo ſmall a Summ as that was; and at leaſt, I wiſh it may not have been ſo, after having my ſelf been Witneſs of the great Pomp ſhe former⯑ly liv'd in. Yet it was commonly reported at Court, that had not the Lady of a Foreign Prince's Mini⯑ſter, ſupplyed her with Money, ſhe had not known how to ſatisfie her Baker and Butcher, who dun'd her continually for the Money ſhe ow'd them.

Whatever was in this, her Family has been in a declining State theſe Twenty Five Years paſt, and is very much lower, than it was before that time; and this Princeſs's Son, who ſhould have raiſed it up again, having been ſo low-ſpirited, as to Marry a Girl, who is unworthy of his Birth, has been obliged to go out of the Kingdom, becauſe he found that he could not live in it with honour. And if it be true, that this Prin⯑ces Mother, was guilty of what was laid to her charge, we may preſume, that all that has befallen her, is the effect of Divine juſtice, which doth not ſuffer that Crimes of this nature ſhould continue unpuniſhed.

Madamoiſelle de Soiſſons, was not the only Perſon whoſe Conduct the King endeavoured to reform; he took much the ſame meaſures with Madam de la Force, who is one of the two Daughters which the late Marquis de Caſtelmoron had left be⯑hind him; the other was married to the Marquis de Bricquemau, a Name well know among the French Proteſtants, as well as that of de la Force. But that Religion being now prohibited, the Marquis de Bricquemau, thought fit to obey the King, [54] who Commanded all his Subjects to be Roman Ca⯑tholicks.

Madamoiſelle de la Force, had already had many Intrigues, which had made much noiſe; and a⯑mong others, thoſe with the Marquis de Neſle, and with the Preſident de Brion's Son. This laſt had diſgraced her yet more than the other; be⯑cauſe this Preſident's Son, was but of a very mean extract in compariſon of her. For without having recourſe to the idle fancies of the Family of la Force, which pretends to be deſcended of the Kings of England, about which the Genea⯑logiſts are not agreed; or to what is pretended, that the name of Nompart which they bear, with that of Caumont, was given them, becauſe one of their Anceſtors killed a Dragon, which de⯑ſtroyed all that Country, where their chief Poſ⯑ſeſſions and Intereſts in Land do now lie: I ſay, that without laying any ſtreſs on theſe things, it is certain that the Family of la Force, is a very Illuſtrious and a very Antient Family. It has produced two Mareſchals of France, the one juſt after the other; of the firſt of which, the Father Mainbourg has given us a Hiſtory, which he has compoſed after his own fancy, in his Book of Calviniſm; but he is ſo often miſtaken in every thing, that he has Written, that a Man muſt be at pains to compoſe as many Volumes as he has done, if he would take in hand to diſcover all his Miſtakes. But ſince we have occaſion here, to ſpeak of this Mareſchal, who was called James, I ſhall give a true and genuine account of what befel him, at the Maſſacre of St. Bartho⯑lomew, quite different from what is given by that Jeſuit.

Charles IX. having formed a deſign, to catch all the Proteſtants of France in one Net, and at the ſame time; made as many of them as he could, eſpe⯑cially of the leading Men among them, come to [55] Court, that he might cauſe them to be murdered (ſo to ſpeak) in his own ſight; while by his Or⯑ders, the ſame was to be done, upon the ſame day and at the ſame hour, in all the parts of the Kingdom: It is not my buſineſs, to tell here how it was poſſible, that ſuch a Deſign could be executed, without being diſcovered before hand to thoſe againſt whom it was formed; beſides, that though I ſhould make all the plauſible Con⯑jectures imaginable, I could not expect to ſucceed better, than they have done, who have beat their Brains to tell us their Conjectures about it; and at laſt I ſhould be forced to confeſs, as they do, that it was a thing that God had reſolved from all Eterni⯑ty, and that he put a vail before the Eyes of all thoſe who were appointed to ſuffer, that they might not know the imminent dangers that threatned them. However this be, James's Father being come to Pa⯑ris, where he was called by the King, and having brought along with him his two Sons, viz. James and his elder Brother; he and they were among the firſt who were aſſaſſinated. James was but Fourteen Years old, but was of a much readier wit, than is uſual for Boys of that age, and he ſeigned himſelf dead, upon his receiving the firſt blow; that was the reaſon why he was left there, and had no more wounds given him; and lying ſtretched out at full length between his Father and his Brother, who were killed dead, he had alſo ſo much preſence of mindas to take off a Diamond of great value, which his Father had upon his Finger, and to put it in his Mouth, with an other which he had himſelf; for he did not doubt, but the People would ſoon come and ſtrip them, and take every thing that was about them; and he was affraid, that if he ſhould keep nothing for getting his Wound cured, and for main⯑taining himſelf in ſome private place, till the ſtorm were over, he might come to be ſtarved to death. It happened juſt ſo as he had gueſſed would: [56] all the People about the Louvre, where his Fa⯑ther was lodged, hearing what had been done, came immediately to make all the advantages they could of the Cloaths of theſe murdered Proteſtants. The Maſter of a Tennis Court, that was in that part of the Town, who knew Monſieur de la Force's Sons, becauſe they had play'd ſometimes at the Tennis, which he kept, happened by good luck to come to their Houſe, when he was going a pillaging as well as others: He was ſo touched with compaſſion, when he ſaw them in that condition, that he cry'd out and ſpoke of it aloud, though he was all alone.

James, who knew him, thought that he might truſt himſelf with him, and tell him, that he was not as yet dead. The Maſter of the Tennis, being overjoyed to ſee him yet alive, bid him get up and go along with him; and promiſed to keep him in his Houſe, and that he ſhould not at all diſcover him, but that he ſhould be in as great ſafety with him as ever he had been in his own Father's houſe; but becauſe he had no Cloak to give him, and that he could not go out, naked as he was, for another had already ſtript him of his Cloaths; James therefore, deſir'd him to go and ſeek for one to him, and to bring a Lanthorn with him, that he might have the grea⯑ter Benefit of his kind Offers. The Maſter of the Tennis, brought him all that he had deſired, and a Hat alſo; and making him go before him, as if he had been his Boy; he brought him to his houſe, where his Wife asked him, who he was; he told her, that ſhe was not concerned to know that, and that ſhe had nothing to do, but to uſe him kindly. She judged by this, that he was ſome Hu⯑guenot of Note; which ſhe was yet more perſwa⯑ded of, when upon his Finger, ſhe ſaw the Dia⯑monds which he had ſav'd, and ſhe coveted very much to have them; but not knowing any other way, how to come by them, ſhe began to ſay to her Husband, that ſhe was very deſirous he ſhould [57] put him out of doors; that ſhe could not ſuffer him any longer to expoſe himſelf, for his ſake, to thoſe Inconveniencies that would inevitably befal him, if it ſhould ever come to be known, that he had harboured ſuch a Gueſt. Her Hus⯑band, who had been forced to tell her who he was, that the hopes ſhe might have, of being well re⯑warded one day, might give her ſatisfaction; en⯑deavoured to ſatisfie her with the ſame hopes. But ſhe had rather have what was preſent, than what was but to come, and ſhe continued to preſs him that he would rid himſelf of this Stranger; telling him, that it ſeem'd he knew not well what he was doing, when he put himſelf into ſo great hazard, without any proſpect of ad⯑vantage. The Tennis-court keeper, finding, that he could not ſatisfie her with Reaſon, advertiſed James of it, that he might chooſe rather to go elſe⯑where, than to expoſe himſelf to new Dangers. La Force anſwered him, that he would ſoon find a Remedy for that: He knew that this Woman coveted his Diamonds, becauſe ſhe had many times ſpoken to him of them; he therefore gave her one of them, which procured him peace and quiet for ſome days. But becauſe, that which he had kept to himſelf, was the fineſt of the two, and that he had given her only the leaſt, her wicked hu⯑mour returned very ſoon, inſomuch that ſhe di⯑ſturbed her Husband with her Importunities, as much as before. He who was a man of much ho⯑neſty, could not approve of her Behaviour, and reproved her ſharply for it. But finding that ſhe perſevered in her Covetouſneſs, and that ſhe va⯑lued her Intereſt, more than any other thing, he ſpoke to Monſieur de la Force, that he might have a care, not to make a Preſent to her of the other Diamond, and he told him, that it would be much better for him, that he ſhould go to one of his Friends houſes, and that if he knew any of them [58] with whom he could truſt himſelf; he would go himſelf, and ask him if he could be in ſafety at his houſe: Monſieur de la Force anſwered him, that he knew none, but Monſieur de Biron, and he en⯑treated him to go to his houſe as from him; and that he knew him to be ſo generous, that he hoped, he would make no difficulty, [...]o ſhelter him. The Maſter of the Tennis-court went thither, and ha⯑ving asked a private Audience of him, he was ſurpriſed, and overjoyed at the ſame time, when he told him, that the young La Force was ſtill alive. Monſieur de Biron deſired, that he might come ſo ſoon as conveniently he could: he came to his houſe immediately; and that he might not be diſcovered, Monſieur de Biron, after he had diſcourſed a little with him, put him in his Livery as one of his Pages, and ſent him to Biron. He was cured of the Wound, he received at the Maſſacre, and having taken Poſt, he ſtay'd in Guyenne, till the Perſecution of the Proteſtants was over. He went afterwards to the War, where he ſignalized himſelf ſo gloriouſly, that he came to be in greater eſteem than any of his Predeceſſors had ever been. And he came to be ſo much in favour with Henry the Third, and Henry the Fourth, that he was made Maſter of the Kings Wardrobe, and Captain of his Life⯑guards. He afterwards married Monſieur de Biron's Daughter, in gratitude to him, for having ſhel⯑ter'd him, when he was in hazard of his Life; and at laſt he was advanced to the Dignity of Duke, and Peer, and Marſhal of France. He died when he was Eighty years of Age, Loaded with Riches and Honour. His Son enjoyed all the ſame Honours, and having but one Daughter, ſhe was married to Monſieur de Turenne. The Dutchy of la Force fell to the Poſterity of James's ſecond Son, who enjoy it at this time.

[59] Madamoiſelle de la Force, of whom we are now diſcourſing, was deſcended alſo of the ſame James, who was her Grandfather; but her way of living being altogether unworthy of the Grandchild of ſo great a Man, who had lived always like a Man of true Honour and Vertue; the King cau⯑ſed a Complement to be made her, much like to that, which had been made to Madamoiſelle de Soiſſons; he ordered that it ſhould be told her, that there were but two things, of which ſhe might chooſe one, that was, either to go out of the King⯑dom, or to go in to a Convent: ſuch an Order as this, was like a Thunderbolt to this young La⯑dy. But as there is no diſputing with the King, ſhe choſe the Convent; upon condition always, that His Majeſty ſhould give her, wherewith to pay her Board. For though ſhe had many In⯑trigues in her time, yet ſhe was ſo much a Beggar, that ſhe had not wherewith to maintain herſelf: Perhaps, had ſhe been richer, ſhe would not have gone and buried herſelf alive, within the Walls of a Cloyſter; but as Neceſſity forces many People to do many things, which otherwiſe they would not incline to; it was impoſſible for her to take any other courſe, than what ſhe did. There was one Madam Thaumur, who underwent the ſame Fate, though ſhe was married, and her Huſ⯑band Captain of the Gallies of Verſailles; yet he was ſo good natured, as never to complain of her Conduct. But the King, who had declared open⯑ly before all the Court, that he would not ſuffer any Perſon, to give ill Example to another, knowing that himſelf was charitable enough, to comfort an old Suiſſe for the loſs of his Wife, cauſed her to be ſhut up among the penitent Maids.

This frighted a great many Women, whoſe Conduct was nothing better than hers; while all good People approved of his Majeſty's Re⯑ſolution, for the Reformation of Manners.

[60] He commanded the Archbiſhop of Paris, that in his Station, he ſhould vigorouſly purſue the ſame deſign as well as he did. That Prelate gave Or⯑ders to the Clergy of that great City, that every one of them ſhould enquire diligently, within the bounds of his Pariſh, after thoſe who lived licen⯑tiouſly, whether under the pretence of their Great⯑neſs, or under pretence of Clandeſtine Marriage. His Majeſty's Care extended alſo, farther than this Capital City; for he ſent the ſame Orders to all the Biſhops of the Kingdom. The Biſhop of Angers had a Man in his Dioceſs, who was ra⯑ther rich than of Quality, and who was in one of theſe two Caſes. It was the Count de Serran, who had been Chancellor of Monteur: he lived familiarly with one Madam Racapee; but it was not known how they came to live together, whe⯑ther they lived in Whoredom, or if there had been a Clandeſtine Marriage between them; for theſe ſorts of Marriages are much in faſhion at this time, inſomuch, that we ſeldom hear of any other. The Biſhop went and paid him a viſit, as he us'd frequently to do; but after he had dined with him, and with this Lady, who ordered all the Affairs of his houſe; he told him, that he would not de⯑lay any longer to acquaint him, with the Reaſons that had obliged him to pay him that viſit. That His Majeſty had commanded him to enquire of him, what was the Relation he was in to that Lady, who had the truſt of every thing in his houſe. For if ſhe ſerved him only for his pleaſure, and was not married to him, he muſt reſolve never to ſee her any more. The Count de Serran knowing that his Wealth, which made him abſolute in that Coun⯑try, could do him no ſervice, in ſhifting a que⯑ſtion that was put to him in the Kings Name; was forced to own, that they were mar⯑ried together. The Biſhop anſwered him, that his owning of the Marriage was ſomething, and [61] that he could diſcourſe willingly with him upon the reaſons, which he offered him at the ſame time, for hav⯑ing ſo long concealed it; but that all that was not e⯑nough, for ſuch an Anſwer, as he muſt give the King. That if it were only he, who as Biſhop of the place, came to enquire after it; he would be⯑lieve it, upon his word; but ſince his buſineſs was with the King, it was abſolutely neceſſary to ſhew other Proofs for it. The Count hearing him ſpeak after ſuch a manner, went and ſearched for the Marriage-contract, which he had made with this Lady, and ſhewed him at the ſame time, a Certificate of their Marriage. He asked for no more, and having given an Account of it to the King, it has produ⯑ced ſo good an effect, that this Count owns it o⯑penly in his Family; ſo that Madam de Racapee, is now conſidered as his Lady.

About this time, the City of Paris came to have one of its principal Magiſtrates changed, though this Office be neither ancient nor honourable; I mean the Office of Lieutenant de Police, which was at its firſt Inſtitution, in the year 1667. beſtowed upon Monſieur de la Reinie, who is ſtill alive. For there was never any ſuch Magiſtrate before that time, and all the parts of that Office were performed by the Lieutenant Civil. But His Majeſty conſidering, that in ſo great a City as this Metropolis, it was too great a Charge for one Man, to attend particular Affairs, and the more publick Concerns of the City at the ſame time; he created this new Office in his Favour. 'Tis true, Political Reaſons obliged him to inſtitute it, as much as Zeal for Juſtice did. For the King had found by experience, while he was under age, that this City alone, was capable by its example, to cauſe an Inſurrection throughout the who [...]e Kingdom. And therefore, he thought fit, to have a Man there, of his own Appointment, in whom he might put con⯑fidence, who might narrowly obſerve every thing that was done in the City. He ſettled Twelve Thou⯑ſand [62] Franks a year upon this Magiſtrate; and Mon⯑ſieur de la Reinie, after he had diſcharged this Office, for at leaſt 25 years, becoming old, and perhaps that he might complement the chief Miniſter of State, deſired him ſome years ago, that he would give him his Nephew Monſieur de Bignon for his Coadjutor.

As this Office, gives a Man much Authority and Intereſt at Court, upon which he immediately de⯑pends; therefore, Monſieur Bignon, who is now In⯑tendant of Picardy, accepted of it, by the Advice of his Parents and Friends; but being of a Family, that has been always obliging and full of huma⯑nity, he became ſoon wearied of it; for he ſaw, that he could not diſcharge that Office, unleſs, he be⯑came ſevere and rigorous, and therefore, he made an Intereſt, to be Intendant of a Province, and ob⯑tained that of Amie [...]s. In the mean while, Mon⯑ſieur de Reinie growing now very old, for he is about Eighty years of Age, ſupplicated anew, that he might be eaſed of this Burden, and that he might be allowed to ſell his Office. The King granted his requeſt, upon condition, that he ſhould reſign in favour of Monſieur d' Argenſon. This Gentleman is of much better Quality than Monſieur de la Reinie, and falls nothing ſhort of him, as to good ſenſe; be⯑ſides, that he has all neceſſary Qualities to make himſelf to be feared, and his very Preſence ſtrikes dread, if it doth not create reſpect. His Father had been the Kings Embaſſador to the Republick of Venice, and his Anceſtors were equally famous for the Gown and for the Sword; but 'tis ſeldom that a Man grows rich by Embaſſies, and his Father who is ſtill alive, ſpent a good part of his own Eſtate in that Em⯑ployment; ſo that his Son had been forced to ac⯑cept of an Office, that was below him, that is, to be Lieutenant General of Limoges; but his good Fortune having brought him to Court, and having got ſome Commiſſions, of which he ſo acquitted him⯑ſelf, [63] that the Court was fully ſatisfied with what he had done, he thereby opened the way to this Employment we are now ſpeaking of: The Lieu⯑tenant de Police is anſwerable to the Parliament of Paris; and therefore Monſieur D' Argenſon, ſome days, after he had entered upon his Office, went and pay'd a viſit to the chief Preſident, and begged the honour of his Protection. This Magiſtrate, who has a grave Aſpect and affects to appear graver than he truly is, received him the ſame way, that he uſes to receive all other People, and heard his Complement without ſo much as moving an Eyebrow: finding that he had done with it, made him no anſwer but theſe Three Words, Safety, Cleanneſs, Light; and im⯑mediately turned his back upon him. Monſieur D' Argenſon would have been more ſurpriſed, if he had not known his Character; but having known it of a long time, he returned home, thinking what could be the meaning of theſe Three Words, and he ſoon found it out. He underſtood eaſily that by the firſt, he meant, that he ſhould take care of the night Watch, that no Robberies or Murders by Night might be heard of in the City. By the Second, that he ſhould take care, that thoſe who had the charge of clean⯑ſing the Streets, ſhould punctually do their duty; and by the Third, that he ſhould do the ſame, as to thoſe, who have the charge of the Lan⯑thorns: Theſe Three parts of this Office, made Monſieur Bignon nauſeate it; and there were alſo ſome other things in it, that were no leſs diſa⯑greable to ſuch a Man as he is.

However, his niceneſs, was much to Monſieur de la Reinie's advantage, for he got Fifty Thou⯑ſand Crowns from Monſieur D' Argenſon, for re⯑ſigning his place to him; and he would have got much more, had not the King determined the Price. The Lieutenant de Police pays no yearly [64] Tax to the King for his Office, as all the Offices of Long Robe do, except the Chancellor, the Chief Preſi⯑dent of Parliament; and . . . . . And the King gave Monſieur D'Argenſon, a Warrant of Retenſion for a Hundred Thouſand Franks; He enter'd upon the Exerciſe of it, by declaring War againſt all thoſe, whether Men or Women, that uſed to play at Lanſquenet; He had expreſs Orders for this, from his Majeſty; becauſe he had obſerved, that in ſome Years before, that unhappy Game, as well as the other Game of Baſſet; had ruin'd a great number of the Officers of his Army, who had been forced to quit their Companies, be⯑cauſe, they had loſt all the Money, with which, they ſhould have raiſed Recruits.

Monſieur Bignon Counſellor of State, who was the Father of that Gentleman I was juſt now ſpeaking of; came to die ſuddenly, about this time, without having any time to prepare himſelf for another World: He had gone to bed at Night, af⯑ter having taken his Supper as he uſed to do, without complaining of any Pain or Sickneſs; but the next Morning, he was found dead in his Bed. The Office of State which he had enjoyed, would have been very convenient for his Son, who had nothing elſe to hope for, by his Death; for all his Eſtate was not ſufficient to pay his Debts; But becauſe the King had declared long ago, that he would not at all, make thoſe Offices like He⯑re [...]itary ones, to deſcend from Father to Son, he therefore, thought it his intereſt to proceed cautiouſly in this matter, and to take prudent meaſures, before he ſhould addreſs himſelf to the King for it. It was eaſier for him, than it would have been for another Man, to bring about this deſign; becauſe he was the Nephew of Monſieur de Ponchartrain, who had ſerved the King to very good purpoſe, ever ſince the time that he was made Comptrollor-General, in the place o [...] [65] Monſieur le Pelletier. There were few, who could have acquitted themſelves in ſo difficult a poſt, with ſo much Art and Succeſs, as he has done, at a time, when the publick Affairs were in ſuch a poſture, as they have always been in ſince he was called to it. Tis certainly matter of Wonder and of Amazement at the ſame time, to ſee the dif⯑ference betwixt the way of managing the King's Revenues at this time, and that which was taken under the Miniſtry of Cardinal Mazarin. For when there was need but of a Million, they were at incredible pains and toil, to contrive a way how to raiſe it: Thoſe who are acquainted with the Hiſtory of thoſe times, know, that when Dunkirk was taken in the year 1658. it could not be ran⯑ſomed out of the Hands of the Engliſh, becauſe we had not Three Millions of Money to give for it; for which Sum we could have recovered it, by vir⯑tue of a ſecret Treaty with Cromwell; ſo that the King was forced to add a Million more to that Sum, when he redeemed it ſome Years after: Beſides, it was needful then, to uſe all the Political Arts and Pretences imaginable, before that ſuch a Sum could be raiſed Whereas now, if the King had uſe for Fifty Millions, he has nothing to do but to ſpeak the word, and he has it, ſo to ſpeak, in a Quarter of an Hour. However, Monſieur Pontchartrain did not rely ſo much upon his own Merits, as upon that account to flatter himſelf with the hopes of obtaining this fa⯑vour to his Nephew, becauſe of ſome difficulties which he foreſaw muſt be removed, before he could ſpeak of it to his Majeſty: The great difficulty was, that the King had promiſed to Monſieur de Caumartin, Intendant of the Kings Revenues, the firſt place that ſhould fall void, among the Counſellors of State: He knew that the King was mindful of his Promiſes, and that he would not forget them, but for very good Reaſons; and therefore, he ſpake to Monſieur de Cau⯑martin, and told him, he would oblige him very much, [66] if he would quit his Pretenſions in Favour of his Ne⯑phew. As every Man loves to oblige a Miniſter of State, ſo Monſieur Caumartin, promiſed not to do any thing, that could put his Majeſty in mind of what he had promiſed him, but the King remembred it himſelf; ſo that when Monſieur de Ponchartrain ſpoke to him for [...] B [...]gnon, he anſwered, that he was very ſorry he could not grant what he asked of him, but there were two Reaſons that hindred him from doing it. The one was, that he had reſol⯑ved not to ſet th [...]ſe Offices paſs from Father to Son: The ohter was, that he was under a promiſe to give Monſieur Caumartin, the firſt of thoſe places that ſhould f [...]ll [...]. So Monſieur Caumartin was made Coun⯑ſellor of State, though he was willing to have re⯑nounced it, at Monſieur de Pontchartrain's deſire. The firſt time that he ſat in Council, he pretended to take his Place, as if he had been always there, from the firſt Day he was named Intendant of the Reve⯑nues, becauſe theſe Intendants have a Brief of the Crown. as Counſellors of State; but thoſe whom he would have taken place of, if he had ſucceeded in his Claim, oppoſing him in that matter, the Chan⯑cellor, who was proper Judge in it, determined it in their Favour. Two or Three days before Monſieur de B [...]gnon's Death, his Brother, who was chief Preſi⯑dent of the great Council, fell ſick, when his ſickneſs appeared dangerous, (for he died of it within Six or Seven days after,) no body would tell him, what had befallen his Brother, leſt he ſhould become Appre⯑henſive that he ſhould ſoon follow him.

But becauſe his Brother had come to ſee him in the beginning of his Sickneſs, but could not come af⯑terwards, (for he was in his Grave) he asked the only Daughter he had, if he had already forgotten him. He had married this Daughter to Monſieur de Verthamont, Maſter of Requeſts, who was already one of the Richeſt Men that wore a Gown, but who came to be much Richer by ſucceeding him in [67] his Eſtate; for this Monſieur Bignon had incompara⯑bly a greater Eſtate than his elder Brother: He was worth at leaſt Four Hundred Thouſand Crowns; yet his Daughter was nothing the hap⯑pier for that, for her Husband did not love her at all: either becauſe he thought ſhe had not Beauty enough to deſerve that he ſhould love her; or be⯑cauſe he was too much inclin [...]d to We [...]ching to love a Wife; for it was known that he had Miſtreſſ [...]s, and ſhe was forced to behave herſelf obligingly to them, and to keep [...] with them, that ſo ſhe might be often in company with her Hu [...]band, for ſhe had as much Affection for him, as he had Indifferency for her.

Monſieur de Verthamont's Inclinations to the Fe⯑male Sex, his been [...] enough known, of a long time; though ſomewhile and he [...]ell thereby into ſuch an Inconvent me, as might have diſcouraged him from [...], for the [...]. He was in love with a young Girl, that had ſo me Brothers, who were Office [...]s in the [...]. She was, at leaſt of as good a Family as had as, but th [...] was a vaſt diff⯑rence betwixt th [...] is Fortunes; and the was a [...] poor as he was rich: The [...] their Siſter to comply with him, [...] take [...] Meaſures as ſhould [...] to give her a Por⯑tion. Perhaps ſhe [...] though they had not adviſed her to it; and if we may be⯑lieve what is repor [...] of her, ſhe loved him, as much as he loved her. However this Girl having given him an [...] is ſurpriſed him with her, and [...] to be [...] hard up⯑on him, if he would not do them Juſtice. H [...] offer⯑ed them a conſiderable Sum of Mercy, i [...] they would let him go. He had it not about him, for it was a greater Sum than a Man uſually carries in his Pocket; but having given them his No [...]e, he thought it even beſt to pay it, without more ado, that his misfortunes might not come to be talked of:

[68] If a certain Knight of the Holy Ghoſt, who is now at Court, could have thus compounded the matter with his Lady's Brothers, perhaps he had never married her; But theſe Gentlemen were not for capitulating on ſuch Terms, as the Brothers of the former Girl had done; he was forced againſt his Will, to yield to their Terms; beſides that, it may be, his Note would not have been ſo well an⯑ſwered as was Monſieur de Verthamont ▪s.

But that I may not go farther from my Subject; I ſay, that this Magiſtrate's Lady, having by ſome pretence or other, ſatisfied her Father, when he complained, that his Brother came not to ſee him; he died, without knowing that he was gone before him, and that he had payed that debt, that all men muſt neceſſarily pay. Though his Office was but of a late Creation, yet there were abundance of Candidates for it: for the place of Chief Preſi⯑dent, and eſpecially, of ſuch a famous Society as is the Great Council, is not to be ſlighted, when there is a fair opportunity of obtaining it. But the King, who has always a great regard to the Chil⯑dren of his Miniſters, when the Offices they have enjoyed, may, without any bad Con [...]equence be diſ⯑poſed of, as if they were hereditary, beſtowed it upon Monſieur de Verthamont. For the reaſon why the Places of Counſellors of State ſhould not be ſo diſpoſed of, is, that if the King ſhould let them deſcend to the Children, or to the neareſt Kinſ⯑men, he ſhould not have, wherewith to reward thoſe who ſerve him faithfully in the Counſel, and in the other Offices of the Gown. For they ſerve not for any other end, but that one day they may come to be Counſellors of State; at leaſt, the hopes of this, has been their great motive for ſome time paſt; becauſe we ſee, that the King has choſen Two or Three of that Body to be Chan⯑cellors of the Kingdom, and therefore, every one ſtrives to recommend himſelf to his Majeſty, by his [69] diligence in his Service; whether in the Inten⯑dancies, or in any other Commiſſions. We may eaſily be convinced, how much it is for the Kings Intereſt, to have Perſons of this ſort about him; and perhaps he ſhould not find them ſo exact and punctual, in the diſcharge of their Duty, if it were not, that they have always that recompence in their View, as the fruit of all their Labours.

There were Two other Brothers, died ſome days after the death of the Two Bignons, and there was one ſtrange thing obſerved of them; that never any thing happened to the one, but what befel the other at the ſame time: they were Twins, and ſo like one another in the Face, that had not the one been a Soldier, and the other a Lawyer, ſo that their different Garbs made them known, the one would have been often taken for the other. They were both much given to gaming, and if one loſt his mo⯑ney, it was ſure the other loſt his alſo, at the ſame time. When he who went to the Army was wound⯑ed, the other was wounded alſo by a fall, or ſome other Accident. If the one had a Miſtreſs that jilted him, the other met with the ſame Treat⯑ment from his. In a word, all the difference that ever was taken notice of, was, that the one con⯑tinued a Batchelor, much longer than the other; and there was nothing wanting in their whole life, but that one thing, to juſtifie what is ordinarily ſaid of Children, that are born at the ſame Birth; That whatever happens to the one, inevitably be⯑fals the other. But perhaps he who continued a Batchelor ſo long after the other was married, did ſo, becauſe he thought his Brother not very happy in his Marriage. There are ſome Wives, who give no great Encouragement to Men, to ven⯑ture upon Marriage, eſpecially, when they ſet up for Wits, and will paſs a judgment upon every thing. It is the two Bauquemars of whom I am now [70] ſpeaking; the one of them, was Mariſhal de Camp, and Governour of Bergues; the other Preſident of Requeſts of the Palace. The King gave this Govern⯑ment to the Count de la Motthe, Nephew of the late Marſhal d [...] la Motthe H [...]udanc [...]ur who was alſo Mari⯑ſhal de Camp. The Count a [...] Brion, eldeſt Son of Monſieur le Grand, and who had the ſurvivance of Maſter of Horſe to the King, fell at this time in⯑to an Ap [...]plex [...], though he was not at moſt, but Thirty Five Years of Age: And it was ſo ex⯑treme vi [...]l [...]nt, that his Face was diſ [...]orted to that degree, that not only his Mouth ſtood aw [...]y, but what was yet more [...]mazing, one o [...] his Eyes came d [...]wn int [...] the Middle of his Face. His Father and Mother ſent him to the Waters of B [...]urbon, and as he was up [...]n h [...]s Journey thithe [...], he ſell into an [...]t [...]er [...]it of the ſame Diſeaſe, ſo that it was beli [...]ved he was quite gone; yet he recovered of it, as he had do [...]e of [...]he firſt, and having made out hi [...] J [...]urney, the Waters a [...]d the n [...]tural ſtrength of his Youth, r [...]covered h [...]m to a [...]etter State of Heal [...]h. The K [...]g, [...] [...]as al [...]a [...]s loved his Fa⯑t [...], was [...]o goo [...] as to [...] how glad he was at hi [...] R [...]covery. Bu [...] [...] gave Ma [...]ame la [...], [...] [...]nd m [...]r [...] ſenſible [...]roofs of [...] every body: She had a [...], c [...]cerning the Inheritance of [...], which ſhe alleged, [...] King alle [...]ed the contrary; [...] to be well [...]ou [...]ded, becauſe [...] wh [...]ch the De [...]te [...] the Portion of one of the Sons of [...] F [...]ance, and re [...]urned always to the [...] were n [...]t Heirs ma [...]e to enjoy it. [...] Madame la grande [...], [...] his fi [...]ſt Couſin, was not very rich; [...] gi [...]e her only Sixty Thou⯑ſa [...]d [...] of [...]; for which reaſon it is, that ſhe travels only with one Co [...]ch, which is [71] not very becoming a Princeſs of the Blood, and eſpecially a Grand-daughter of Henry IV. the King, I ſay, conſidering her Poverty, and that beſides, ſhe had ſome Reaſons for her Claim, which ſeem'd to anſwer his own Reaſons, told her, that if ſhe pleaſed, he would let her enjoy her Siſter's Eſtate during her Life, upon condition, that ſhe ſhould re⯑nounce the Property of it. This Princeſs, who de⯑ſired only to be rich by the Revenue, without troubling her ſelf, with what might happen after her Death, conſented very willingly to this Propo⯑ſal. But His Majeſty has ſince that time, had ſome ſcruples of Conſcience, becauſe he had only given her the Profits of that Eſtate during her Life, which perhaps belonged to her in Property, and there⯑fore, he has reſigned the Property in her Favour, as he had formerly done the Revenue. This tenderneſs of Conſcience, that will not allow this Prince to do any thing, for which it may reproach him, had made him reflect often, upon many things, that had paſſed during his Reign, which might be re⯑preſented in other Colours than thoſe were, which had been made uſe of to perſwade him to under⯑take them. He ſaw, that his whole Kingdom was in a Flame, and that there was no other way to extinguiſh it, but by reſtoring a great number of Places, which his Enemies alleged he had taken only by force of Arms; and becauſe he found it for his own conveniency to have them, without having any other right to them. If he had pleaſed, he might perhaps not only have let all Europe ſee the contrary, ſince he can give good reaſons for what he has done; but he could have alſo main⯑tain'd his right to thoſe Places [...]y his Arms, ſince in deſpite of the prodigious Conſederacy that has been form'd againſt him, he has always had the advantage of his Enemies, ever ſince he firſt per⯑ceived their Deſigns againſt his Crown.

[72] However, as His Majeſty has of a long time been chiefly concerned with his eternal Sal⯑vation; the care of which, has made many ſcru⯑ples ariſe in his Conſcience: So, we admired and were aſtoniſhed to ſee, that on a ſudden, he had offered to deliver up the Towns of Strasburg and Luxenburg, which were the ſtrongeſt Barriers of his Kingdom; Nay, he offered alſo to deliver up many others, which it muſt be confeſſed, were ta⯑ken airly, with Sword in hand, when his Enemies were Witneſſes of his Victories, and could no lon⯑ger reſiſt his Arms, though they were all aſ⯑ſembled againſt him; ſo that it ſeems juſt to ſay, that he had a right to keep them or at leaſt, to demand the Equivalent of them But the King conſidered, that [...] would break this dreadful Conſpiracy, and reſtore Peace to his People, who groan'd under [...]e Burthen of the moſt cruel War, that ever was raiſed againſt any Soveraign, he muſt part with his own Intereſts He had ſent long ago, the Steu [...] de Calli [...]rs to Holland, to make Pro⯑poſals of Peace. He addreſſed himſelf to that Peo⯑ple, rather than to any others; becauſe he knew that the States, which ſubſiſt only by Trade, would hearken ſooner, than any of the reſt would do, when one ſpoke to them of putting an end to a War, which troubled them upon all quarters. Be⯑ſides, the Dutch could gain nothing, by the Con⯑tinuance of it; for they were not like the Houſe of Auſtria, which flatters it ſelf, that by the Conti⯑nuance of War, it ſhall at laſt recover that ſu⯑preme Power, that it once had in the time of Charles the Fifth. There was not one of the All [...]es, except only this Houſe, who could hope to make any ad⯑vantage of what was then doing in Europe. In⯑ſomuch, that it may be juſtly ſaid, that all the Princes who were in that Confederacy, had taken up Arms, only for the Intereſts of the Houſe of Auſtria; for all the Conqueſts they could hope [73] for from the King, muſt have belonged to it. And though the Princes of the Empire had other Pre⯑tenſions; yet, ſeeing they find by long experience, that the Emperor makes uſe of them (if I may be allowed to ſpeak ſo) only as the Ape made uſe of the Cat's Foot, to take the Cheſnuts out of the Fire; and that he has always known how to make uſe of the Right of Sequeſtration (to which he pretends) to his own advantage and their loſs, and that at the Peace of Nimiguen, he kept Philipsburg to him⯑ſelf, though it belonged to the Biſhop of Spire: They could therefore eaſily ſee, that they exhau⯑ſted themſelves only for his ſake, and that they could expect no Benefit by it themſelves. And though they had run headlong into the Confederacy againſt his Majeſty, when it was propos'd to them; yet, that was only, becauſe of the Fears they were under, from the Greatneſs of his Power. They con⯑ſidered, that it was their miſfortune, to have their Do⯑minions lying between Two Princes, whom they ought equally to ſuſpect; and that they ſhould do beſt to declare againſt him, who ſeemed to be in the greateſt readineſs to ruine them, rather than againſt the other, who was not as yet, in a condition to hurt them. Theſe were the conſiderations that for⯑med the Bonds, which united them ſo firmly with the Emperor; and which became the more indiſ⯑ſoluble, that his Imperial Majeſty found a way, how to keep theſe Princes in a dependance upon him, by making them believe, that the King had violated the Treaties of Munſter and Nimiguen, and was a ſworn Enemy of the Empire. It was not in His Majeſty's Power at that time, to addreſs himſelf either to them, to inform them of his good Intentions; or to the Engliſh, becauſe they had ſet a Prince upon their Throne, whom His Majeſty had not acknowledged as their lawful King; and whom he alſo conſidered as the very Soul of the confederacy, that had been form'd againſt him. It [74] is true, the Hollanders had a ſort of dependance up⯑on this new King, both becauſe he was their State⯑holder, and becauſe of a ſtrict Union between him and the chief Men of their Republick. Yet, as His Majeſty was reſolved to acknowledge this Prince at laſt for King of England, ſo he believed, that what Bonds ſoever might be betwixt him and the Dutch, they would never coldly entertain the Pro⯑poſals, which he ceſigned to make them; eſpecially, when they ſhould ſee, that by removing this one Obſtacle, there would be no great difficulty to ob⯑tain a general Peace: And truly, Monſieur de Cal⯑lieres needed not to have been at great pains, to make them ſenſible, what were like to be the ill Conſequences of the War, as well for themſelves, as for the Princes of the Empire; that he might thereby perſwade them, that it was their Intereſt to concur with His Majeſty, in reſtoring Peace to Europe. They knew their own Intereſts too well, not to be ſenſible, that their own Safety, as well as the Safety of many other Potentates conſiſted in keeping France and Auſtria in a Ballance, or to ſpeak more properly, in keeping them in equality to one another; ſeeing they ſerve as Counter⯑weights, to all the Princes of Chriſtendom, to ſave them from falling under the Power, either of the one or the other. For juſt as in a Ballance, we ſee, that when one ſide is much heavier than the other, if a ſufficient Weight be put into that other Scale, then both are equal; ſo has it always been, ſince theſe Two Families interfered with one a⯑nother. All the Princes of Europe, have acted by the ſame Rule, in aſſiſting the weakeſt of the Two, and putting a ſtop to the growing Power of the o⯑ther. And this Maxim is obſerved at this time; and has put the Sword in the Hands of ſo many Potentates, who were formerly in His Majeſty's Intereſts; eſpecially the Hollanders, and the Prin⯑ces of the Empire, who found no Protection, either [75] ſo ready, or ſo ſafe, as his was; when they were like to have been ſubjected to the Houſe of Auſtria.

However, the Hollanders finding by the Propoſals the King made, and his Offers to deliver up ſo ma⯑ny Places, that if they could not bring theſe Two Houſes to a juſt Equality, yet, they ſhould at leaſt make a Peace, upon ſuch Terms, as that they need⯑ed not be ſo very much afraid of His Majeſty's Power, they gave Monſieur Callieres a very favour⯑able Reception: yet they would not grant him a Paſsport, but by allowance from the Prince of Orange. And before they would enter into any Conferences with him, they would firſt ſee, if the Powers, he had brought from His Majeſty, were in good form. But they could be in no better form, than they were, ſince they were ſeal⯑ed with the Great Seal of France. There was one thing, that much hindred this Treaty, which was, that the Hollanders would do nothing, with⯑out the Conſent of England, and their other Allies. But this was nothing but what Monſieur Callieres expected. For before he came from France, he doubted very much, that he could perſwade them to enter into a ſeparate Treaty with the King. Yet, that had been done, at the Treaty of Ni⯑meguen; where his Majeſty's Plenipotentiaries found a way, how to make them jealous of the Prince of Oran [...]e's Power; ſo that they made haſt to make a ſeparate Peace, which did ſoon oblige all the other Allies to an Accommodation with the King. But it was not fit at this time, ſo much as to propoſe what they were able then to effectuate. The Dutch became ſenſible of their miſtake, and they would take care, not to fall in⯑to it again. But Callieres, who as I have ſaid, had conſidered of this before, and who had Or⯑ders from the King, not at all to acknowledge the Prince of Orange, for King of England, till he ſhould be aſſured of the Peace; found out an ex⯑pedient, [76] for reconciling the Orders he had from the King his Maſter, with this difficulty which the Dutch made, not to treat without the Con⯑ſent of their Allies. It was, that they ſhould not come to a final Concluſion in any thing, without their Approbation; but if they found reaſon to agree to any thing, they might communicate it to them; and that convenient meaſures might be taken afterwards. There was no Inconveniency in following this Advice, and the Dutch were ſa⯑tisfied with it, and by Conſent of their Allies too. They demanded, as Preliminaries of this Treaty, the Reſtitution of Lorrain, and of the Towns of Strasburg and Luxenbourg. Callieres conſented in the Kings Name, both to the one and the other; but upon Condition, that Lorrain ſhould be reſto⯑red to the Duke of that Name; upon ſuch Terms, as had been agreed to, at the Treaty of Nimeguen: The Preſident Can [...]n, who took care of the Duke of Lorrain's Intereſts in Holland, oppoſed this; under Pretence, that when his Maſter engaged in the Confederacy, it was promiſed, that Peace ſhould never be made, till he had full Satisfaction. He repreſented to the Confederates, that if his Dominions were not reſtored to him, but upon the Terms of the Treaty of Nimeguen, he ſhould be ſo far from reaping any advantage by the Con⯑federacy, that he ſhould be a loſer by it; ſince he could have made a much better market, had he taken other methods, by which he might have been put in poſſeſſion of his Dominions before the War; but having thought himſelf oblig'd to follow his Fathers example, who would not hear of theſe Conditions, near Twenty Years ago; it was very hard for him, now, after ſo many Years, to find, that no better Conditions were offered him.

But as great Potentates, who are well pleaſed to engage thoſe in their intereſts, who are much infe⯑riour to them in Power, that they may be the more [77] ſucceſsful in their deſigns; take not much care of their concerns, when they have no more uſe for them: ſo the Allies, after having ſpoke once or twice of this Affair, thought it not worth their while to inſiſt any longer upon it: Mr. Preſident Canon, gave in ſeveral Memoirs concerning it, and they told him, that they would take time to conſider them, before any thing were concluded. And though the Empe⯑rours Miniſters joyned with him, for obtaining full ſatisfaction to this Duke; yet neither the one nor the other were able to effectuate any thing. Things being thus far advanced, upon the part of the Dutch; and the Engliſh having as ſtrong Inclinations for a Peace as they had, becauſe of the many Prizes that were taken from them at Sea, which had brought their Trade very low; It was agreed upon all Hands, that Plenipotentiaries ſhould be named, for bringing that to perfection, which as yet was only begun; but they had ſome difficulty to agree upon the Place of the Congreſs. The Emperour would have had it, in ſome Town of Germany, and the King would not hear of that propoſal: But his Imperial Majeſty's great deſire was, to Protract time, for he was not very deſirous of the Peace; becauſe ſo long as the War ſhould laſt, he knew that he was Maſter of all the Princes of the Empire, who were obliged to obey his abſolute Commands; and he was afraid, that if the Peace ſhould be con⯑cluded, they might come to open their Eyes, and be ſenſible of their true Intereſts; and to perceive, that in being ſo earneſt, for the Increaſe of his Power, they ſhould themſelves be the Authors of his Uſur⯑pations upon their own Liberties and Prerogatives. But there was alſo another thing in his View, in which he conſulted his own Intereſt, when he de⯑ſired, that the Treaty might be in ſome Town of the Empire; For ſince the Peace with Savoy, the King was ſuperior in Forces to all the Confede⯑rates; having ſent all the Troops which had ſerv'd [78] in that Country, from thence into Germany: And the Emperour was afraid, leſt Mentz ſhould be be⯑ſieged; which would have been no difficult En⯑terprize, had the King thought fit to employ his Forces that way.

But if he could not obtain, that Mentz ſhould be the Place, yet he thought at leaſt, they would be ſatisfied that Frankfort ſhould be it. And that a Neutrality ſhould be eſtabliſhed, for 12 or 14 Leagues round about that Town, ſo that Mentz ſhould be comprehended in it. But the King being ſtiff in this matter, and the Dutch having propoſ'd the Hague, for the Place of Meeting, it was [...] agreed to, that thoſe, whom His Maieſty ſhould name for his Plenipo⯑tentiaries, ſhould reſide at D [...]lf, which is [...]ut One Leagues diſtant from it; and [...] were to be named by the other Princes, [...] reſide at the Hague, and that the Conferences ſhould be kept at the Caſtle of Ryſ [...]wick, which ſtands in the mid⯑dle, and is equally diſtant from theſe Two Places.

Though the Emperor conſented to this, as well as the reſt of the Confederates; yet, it was a long time before he ſent his [...] thither; which was a Proof, that he loved maner that the War ſhould continue, than that a Peace ſhould be conclu⯑ded [...]s for the King, he made no de [...]ay to name Mon⯑ſieur Courtin Counſellor of rate his Plenipotentiary; a Man every way capa [...]le of ſuch an Employment, and who had acqui [...]ted himſelf very honourably in many Negotiations of great Importance: But he befought the King to excuſe him in this, becauſe he found his Eyes ſo bad, that it was to be fear'd, he ſhould loſe his ſight altogether. It vexed the King to think that he m [...] look out for ano⯑ther; and he was at pains to examine him, if perhaps there were ſome ſecret Reaſons, which hindred him from embracing this Employment; but having at luſt found, that [...] in good ear⯑neſt; he nam [...]d in his place, Monſieur de Harlay, the Chancellor's Son-in-law, who is alſo a Coun⯑ſellor [79] of State: He gave him Monſieur do Creci for his Colleague, and honoured alſo Monſieur de Cal⯑lieres with the ſame Title of Plenipotentiary. There were great things talk'd of this Man's Con⯑duct; though I do not ſee, that there was need of much Art, to do all that he did; for a man has no occaſion to ſhow, how well he is qualified for Ne⯑gotiations of State; unleſs he have to ſtruggle with great difficulties, which at laſt he overcomes by his prudent Conduct, and brings the whole af⯑fair to a happy Iſſue, for the Intereſt of the Prince that has imployed him: But this could not be ſaid of Monſieur Callieres, who had made the Confe⯑derates liſten to his Propoſals; only by promiſing in the Kings Name, that he would deliver up to them, a great number of Places, which they could not have been able to retake by force of Arms, in Twenty Years time, though they had been much ſtronger than they were. Monſieur de Harlay, had been already employed in ſome ſecret Negotiations, but had not been ſucceſsful in them; but he and Monſieur Callieres, had a third Perſon joyned with them, in the great Affairs they were now to be employed in; who could direct and aſſiſt them, when they met with difficulties, that were too hard for them; I mean Monſieur de Creci, who is one of the beſt qualified Men in France, for Affairs of this nature. He and Monſieur de Harlay took their Journey together, that they might be at the place of the Congreſs in due time; but they were not very well ſatisfied with one anothers Compa⯑ny; Monſieur de Harlay was d [...]ſſatisfied, becauſe Monſieur de Creci's Reputation eclipſed his own; and Monſieur de Creci, becauſe Monſieur de Harlay carried it ſo high, as if he had undervalued him.

The Diſpoſitions they were both in made them ſoon give ſome Proofs, that they were diſſatisfied with one another; for being come to L'Iſle; there was [80] one Le Normand, a Farmer-General, who took up⯑on him to Regale them; He was one of Monſieur de Creci's Friends, upon which account he detain'd them there, a whole day longer, than they inten⯑ded to have ſtaid: And that they might not blame him, for making them loſe ſo much time, he gave them Flying Coaches, to carry them Ten or Twelve Leagues farther on their Journey; but he put his Friend Monſieur de Creci into the fineſt Coach, with the fineſt Horſes in it; while Monſieur de Harlay got but a ſorry Coach, and Horſes with ſuch Col⯑lars as draught Horſes uſe to have inſtead of Har⯑neſs. This vexed Monſieur de Harlay very much, who preſumed, that if there was any diſtinction to be made between them, it ſhould have been to his advantage. The Farmer-General, might have per⯑ceived by his looks, that he did not take it well of him, and he was heard to ſay behind his Back, that thoſe who from nothing came to poſſeſs good Eſtates, could never learn to behave themſelves like Gentlemen. However, he made uſe of the Coach and Horſes, ſuch as they were, but gave not many thanks to him who had provided them.

Theſe Two Plenipotentiaries had met with a number of People, betwixt Paris and L'Iſle, who wiſhed them a good Journey, and in the mean time beſought them earneſtly to put an end to their Miſeries, by concluding a happy Peace. They were not at all ſurprized at this, for before they took their Journey, they knew, how much France need⯑ed it. And we may eaſily judge, how much the Treaſure of the Kingdom was exhauſted, when we conſider what Taxes and Subſidies muſt have been paid to the King, to enable him to reſiſt ſo many Forces, as had conſpired againſt him. He had no leſs than 500000 Men under Pay, by Sea and by Lard; which no doubt will appear incredible to Poſterity: It was neceſſary, that People of all Ranks [81] and Conditions within the Kingdom, ſhould bear their Proportionable ſhare of this Burthen; ſo that in impoſing the Taxes, there was a neceſſity to do every thing, ſo to ſpeak, by Weight and Meaſure, that no man might be oppreſſed, or obliged to pay more than his Proportion. And this is what the King's Miniſters have done, with ſo much Conduct and Prudence; that though every man is ſenſible of his own Loſs; yet it is nothing, in compariſon of what it would have been, if thoſe Affairs had been managed by Perſons of leſs Skill and Art, than they are. However, theſe Plenipotentiaries ſaw the ſame thing in Flanders, that they had ſeen in France; that is, they ſaw, that the People there were no leſs weary of the War, than the French; They likewiſe beſought them, with the greateſt Earneſtneſs, to uſe their utmoſt Endeavours for ſucceeding in the Treaty, which they were going to negotiate. At laſt they came to Delf, where the Houſes were become ſo dear, ſince the People of that Town knew, that they were to come thi⯑ther, that they could ſcarcely be had for Mo⯑ney.

While theſe things were a doing, the Procura⯑tor-General, whom the King had ordered to en⯑quire into the matter of the Duel, that had been fought between the Bailiſt d' Auvergne and the Che⯑valier de Kailus, gave him an Account of the Diſcovery, he had made in it: But it was not at all to their advantage: He reported, that ac⯑cording to the Affidav [...]t's that were made before him it was far from having been an accidental Rencounter, as their Parents had alledged; that never Duel was more clearly proved, and therefore he deſired to know, what Orders His Majeſty would give about it. His Majeſty ordered, that they ſhould be Arraigned, Indited and Tried as Crimi⯑nals; ſo that the ſame Officer, having cauſed it to be publiſhed, through the City by ſound of Trum⯑pet; [82] as is uſual upon ſuch Occaſions, the Parliament met, and outlawed them. By His Majeſty's Edict againſt Duels, they ought to have been hang'd in Effigie. But the K [...]ng conſented private⯑ly to remit ſomething of that Rigour, becauſe of the Kindneſs he had for their Parents; and they were only condemned to loſe their Heads, which was accordingly executed at the Greve, where their Pictures were put up, but were not ſuffered to be long there: For there were ſome People took them away about an hour after, that is, in the Twilight of the Evening. Theſe ſorts of things, are very or⯑dinary in France; inſomuch, that it's commonly ſaid, that there is not one Great Family in the whole Kingdom, but what the like has happen'd to; and what has had Ladies and Daughters of naughty Lives. And therefore, the Parents of theſe Two unhappy young Gentlemen, were not much afflicted with the Loſs of their Sons; nor were leſs in favour at Court, than they had been before▪ The Cardinal de Douillon, who is the Bailiff d' Au⯑vergne's Uncle, made a Jeſt of what his Nephew had dore; and of what had befallen him. In which his Eminence was not like many other people, who had rather be e [...]gaged in the moſt difficult Affair in the World, than [...]e accountable for a Duel. And it's certain, that the M [...]ſſicurs de la Frette, could never extricate themſelves out of thoſe Troubles, which they brought upon themſelves, 34 or 35 Years ago; by quarrelling with the Prince de Cha⯑lais, as they were coming out of the Palais Royal. They [...]ght [...] againſt [...]our, but though all of them, or at leaſt the greater part of them, were of the firſt Fa [...]lies of the Kingdom; nay, though the P [...]pe himſelf interceeded for a Remiſſion to them, yet the King would never grant them one, ſo that ſome of them died, making their eſcape to one part, others to another, and of all thoſe that were engaged in that Duel, I know none alive, [83] but the elder La Frette, and the Marquis de Flam⯑marin. It is true, the Marquis d' Autin, the eldeſt Brother of Monſieur de Mont [...]pan, loſt his Life in this Quarrel, having been wounded in the Vena cava, ſo that he died upon the ſpot. I [...] the Count d' Au⯑vergne was afflicted for the loſs of his Eldeſt Son, he was in ſome meaſure comforted, by what the Monks of Cluni did for one of his younger Sons, when he was not thinking of it. The Cardinal de Janſon, the King's Ambaſſador at Rome, had de⯑ſired, that his Majeſty might be pleaſed to recal him, and the Cardinal de Bouillon, had got a Com⯑miſſion to ſucceed him; and he being Abbot of Clu⯑ni he viſited that Abbey, as he was going to Rome. He is always very obliging, and engages all that know him to wiſh him well. So ſoon as he told theſe Monks, that he was going to Rome, and that perhaps, he might never ſee them any more, they replied, that they ſhould be very ſorry, if that ſhould happen, but if it ſhould be the good will of God ſo to order it, they would at leaſt before they took leave of him, give a Teſtimony of the deep Senſe they had of that Kindneſs and Concern, which his Eminence had always ſhown for them: They told him no more of it that day, but on the Morrow, they ordered that a Bell ſhould be toll'd for a meeting of the Chapter, and then they choſe Monſieur d' Auvergne, who is the Cardinal's Nephew, for his Coadjutor. They brought this good News to his Eminence, who knew not the cauſe of their meeting, and they told him at the ſame time, that ſince he was going to Rome, and that it belonged to the Pope to confirm their Election, they did not doubt, but he ſhould obtain that favour of his Ho⯑lineſs, when ever he thought fit to ask it; and they took leave of him, with this Compliment, for which his Eminence thanked them very heartily. For this is one of the moſt genteel and moſt honourable Abbies in France, though it be none of richeſt. Yet [84] it has Seven or Eight Thouſand Livres of Revenue. But that, for which it is moſt to be valued, is, that it has Benefices, at it's Gift, to the value of near a Million of Revenue; ſo that the Abbot of this Place, has many opportunities, to make new Creatures to himſelf, and to reward thoſe whom he has already.

The Cardinal de Bouillon would fain have carried along with him Monſieur de Coulanges, who is a pleaſant ſort of a man, and what he ſays, is ve⯑ry diverting; he drinks, compoſes, and ſings; and he has good Skill in Sauces and Ragoo's; and in a word, he knows how to ſpend his time agree⯑ably, which makes many People deſire his Com⯑pany: He had once ſtay'd with his Eminence, in his Abbey of Pontoiſe, where he had always Peo⯑ple of his own choice, at his Table. He had for⯑merly travelled to Rome, with Monſieur de Chaulnes▪ and he was as well known there to the Cardinals, as was the Ambaſſador himſelf. But he refuſed Cardinal Bouillon, what he had granted the other; and excuſed himſelf, under pretence of ſome Affairs: Whether, what he pretended, was true, or not, I cannot tell. The Inſtruction of greateſt Impor⯑tance, which his Eminence carried to Rome, was concerning the Affairs of Poland; where the que⯑ſtion was, who ſhould be choſen King of that King⯑dom: Becauſe John Sobieshi who had poſſeſſed that Throne ſince the Year 1674, died in 1697: He had left many Children by his Queen, whom he had married before he was promoted to the Royal Dig⯑nity; her Maiden-Name was Francoiſe de Nation, Daughter of the Marquis d' Arquyen, of whoſe Family there was once a Mareſhal of France, under the Name of Montigny. Her Birth ſhould have united her cloſely to the French Intereſts. But Women reſent the Affronts or the Refuſals they meet with, more highly than others do. She had become an Enemy to the King long ago; becauſe [85] he would not grant her the favour ſhe deſired of him, which was, to make her Father Duke and Peer of France; ever ſince which time, ſhe has done all was in her power againſt France, and has not kept thoſe meaſures, that Prudence and Civility obliged her to; inſomuch, that ſhe cauſed ſome Inſo⯑lencies to be done to the Marquis de Vitrich the King's Ambaſſador. The King her Husband, who tho' he was a man not only of as great Valour, as any in the World, but of great experience in War, of which he gave ſufficient Proof, at his raiſing the Siege of Vienna, when the Infidels beſieged it, Ann, 1683. yet he was not a man of ſo much Prudence, in other Actions of his Life. For while he was upon the Throne, he behaved himſelf rather like a private man, than a Soveraign; his chief care was to hoard up Money, without taking any pains to make Creatures and Friends to himſelf, and his Children. He never conſidered, how ne⯑ceſſary theſe were, for placing one of his Poſterity upon the Throne, after his Death; or if he did conſider this, he has thought, that they could al⯑ways make themſelves Friends, by the Treaſures which he ſhould leave them. And therefore, he ſold all the Palatinates that came to be void; as well as every other thing, with which the for⯑mer Kings of Poland uſed to gratifie the Nobi⯑lity and Gentry of that Kingdom. Theſe Practices, had alienated the hearts of his Subjects from him, as well thoſe who had bought thoſe Places, as thoſe who expected to have had them in Gift, and with⯑out Money: So that, his Children were far from having any ground to hope, that they ſhould have the ſame good fortune that Three ſeveral Families, who poſſeſſed this Crown ſucceſſively had formerly had; I mean the Families of Mamcllus, Jagellon and Pala⯑tin, whoſe Children, ſo long as they had any, ſucceeded to the Throne; ſo that it did not paſs into any other Family, than their own.

[86] However, the King having advice of all this, thought to place a Prince of his own Blood, upon that Throne, who was a Subject, and ſuch a one too, as the Polanders muſt always have to be their King. For they are a People that ſoon deſpite their Prince, unleſs he be a brave Man, and capable to lead their Armies himſelf in Perſon, without which qualifica⯑tion, he has buy a melancholy Life among them.

The laſt of the Palatins who enjoyed that Crown, was an Inſtance of this: And it's known, that this peo⯑ple, obliged him to apdicate, ſo ſoon as they per⯑ceived that his Conduct did not anſwer to that of his Anceſtors. The Prince whom the King pro⯑poſed, was Francis Lewis de Bourbon Prince of Con⯑ti; who in this War, which his Majeſty had main⯑tained againſt the greater part of Europe, has gi⯑ven ſuch extraordinary Proofs of his Valour and Con⯑duct; that all the Army ſaid openly, that the very Spirit and Soul of the late Prince of Conde his Un⯑cle, who was one of the greateſt Captains that ever France had, was return'd to this World, and had taken poſſeſſion of the Prince of Conti's Body, that he might ſave his King and his Country from the Confederacy that was formed againſt them. I know that this way of expreſſing themſelves, was altogether extraordinary and new; but as it was impoſſible for them to expreſs more emphatically, the juſt E [...]cem they had for that Prince, as a ſin⯑gularly brave Man; ſo this way of ſpeaking, paſſed ſo currant, and was ſo often repeated, that his Re⯑putation for true Courage, is eſtabliſhed in forreign Countries, as well as in France. Though this Prince is not rich, yet he ſent 200000 Crowns of his own Money into Poland, to gain the Suffrages of thoſe who had already Inclinations for him, on⯑ly upon the Account of his great Fame. For, as this is the only time of Harveſt with the great men of Poland, ſo a Prince needs never pretend to their [87] Crown, unleſs he will ſow before hand, that they may reap the Fruits of it. The more that this Prince had of true merit, the more was Sobieski's Widow-Queen, enraged againſt the King. She entertain'd hopes to have her eldeſt Son Prince James, choſen to ſucceed his Father; and for this very end, ſhe had married him to a Siſter of the Empreſs's, and of the Queen of Spain's, that he might have the Emperors Aſſiſtance. But all the Aſſiſtance in the World, being of no uſe in that Country, unleſs it be ſupported with liberal Donatives, and ſhe being narrow and penurious that way, as her Husband was. The Prince of Conti, would have ſoon car⯑ried it againſt Prince James, had there been no o⯑ther Competitors for it.

The Queen of Poland finding, that ſhe could hard⯑ly ſucceed in her deſigns for her eldeſt Son, en⯑deavoured to perſwade Monſieur l' Abbee de Polig⯑nac, the French Ambaſſadour, to alter his mea⯑ſures, by offering, that if he would recommend the Duke de Vendome to be choſen King, inſtead of the Prince of Conti, ſhe would unite her friends with his, upon condition, that the Duke, ſhould marry her ſo ſoon as he was choſen. At the ſame time, ſhe ſent two of her Sons to Paris, under pretence of travelling, but her true deſigns was, that they might be Spies at the French Court; and might ſee, if the King was in ſuch a Condition to ſupport the Prince of Conti's pretenſions, as the Abbee de Polignac pretended. For it was repor⯑ted in Poland, and almoſt in all foreign Countries, that France was drained both of Men and Money, and that it was ſo far from being able for ſuch an undertaking, that it was upon the brink of ruin, unleſs a peace was ſpeedily con⯑cluded. The Abbee de Polignac gave the King an account of the Queen of Polands Propoſals, but at the ſame time adviſed him not to truſt her. And aſſur'd him, that ſhe would rather make her [88] faction joyn with that of the Houſe of Auſtria, than with the Prince of Conti's. For ſhe had ſo far forgotten, that ſhe was a born Subject of France, that ſhe thought of nothing ſo much, as how to embaraſs all his Majeſty's Projects and Deſigns; In the mean time, the two Princes, Alexander and Conſtantine, younger Brothers of Prince James, came into France And that they might make the French Court entertain a better Opinion of their Mother, than i [...] did from the Account that the Abbee de Polignac had given of her, they brought along with them, near three Millions of Gold, and put Eight hundred thou⯑ſand Crowns of it into the Town-Houſe i. e. the Bank of Paris. The Queen of Poland deſigned by this, to let the world ſee ſhe had not renoun⯑ced France, as the Abbee de Polignac had inſinu⯑ated: And that ſhe was reſolved to ſettle her two Sons in that Kingdom, in caſe they could not [...] with Honour. But beſides, that this [...] ſeemed for her intereſt, ſhe made alſo [...] ſtrantage by that Gold which ſhe had ſent [...] for as to its fineneis, it was much below the ſtandard of the French Coyn, yet it was ta⯑ken into the Mint as if it had been the fineſt Gold in the world, for the King ſtood ſo much in need of Money, that he was content to take it as it was. When theſe two Princes were come to Paris, and to the Court, they were ſoon convinced by the Luxury they ſaw in both theſe Places, that the reports which had been induſtriouſly ſpread in Poland, were altogether falſe. They betook themſelves to thoſe diverſions that Prin⯑ces of their Age do uſually entertain themſelves with: They went to all the Balls that they heard of, and there was one thing beſel them that de⯑ſerves we ſhould give an Account of it.

Being at one of theſe Balls, with Five or Six Gentlemen of their Retinue, who were Masked as [89] well as themſelves, there was there one of the Mousquetaires of the Kings Houſhold, who had put on the habit of a Counſellor, and was therewith Diſguiſed. He chanced to meet with the young Princes, whom he did not know, and told them very Gravely, that it was to no purpoſe, that they ſhould put themſelves to ſo much trouble in a buſineſs wherein they could not ſucceed and therefore as their Counſel he would ſeriouſly ad⯑viſe them, to agree with their adverſary, other⯑ways, they would be caſt in their ſuit. The two Princes had received letters from Poland, the day before, wherein they had the bad News, that the Queen their Mother deſpaired of ſucceeding in her deſigns; and this News had ſpread through the Town, ſo that they never reflected, that this diſ⯑courſe was ſaid Innocently and without any other deſign, but that it might ſuit with the Garb he had then put on; They Imagined on the other hand, that he had ſpoken with relation to the news they had received, and they were ſo enra⯑ged againſt him, that they thought it not enough, to call him Villain and Rogue, and that he was but an inſolent Raſcal, to behave, himſelf with ſo little reſpect to them, but they alſo Baſtinad'd him Soundly. The poor Counſellor, finding that he had but a bad cauſe to plead for himſelf, began to cry out, What do this to me, a Mouſquetaire, to me? as thoſe of the Company of Mouſquetaires uſe to do, when they find, that they have to deal with too ſtrong a party. But the Princes of Poland pulling off their Masks, that it might be known who they were, there was not ſo much as one Perſon that would come to the aſſiſtance of the poor baſtinado'd Mouſquetaire. He marched off with the blows he had received, and reſolved to complain to the King, from whom he expected more Juſtice; No doubt he had rea⯑ſon to demand it, and would certainly have ob⯑tained it, if he had had to do with thoſe of hit own [90] Rank. But the Princes were before-hand with him in complaining to his Majeſty. And he had the hard fortune to be ſent to priſon, ſo ſoon as he offered to ſpeak of it. By this treatment, and by what he had before met with, he became ſen⯑ſible, that it was not for his Intereſt, to take up a Trade that he had no skill in; and therefore he reſolved never to profeſs it any more, or if he did, he would never give counſel but to thoſe who as⯑ked it of him. The one of theſe Princes was much handſomer than the other. And the King was reſolved to give them the blew Ribban, i. e. to make them Knights of the Holy Ghoſt; This was to do good for evil. For the Queen their Mother, never failed to do all that was in her Power, to traverſe his Majeſty's Deſigns. When they gave her Advice of this, ſhe ſent an Expreſs to them, and told them, that ſhe was ſurprized to find, that they had ſo much as liſtened to ſuch a Propoſal; ſince they could not but know, that if they accepted of it, they ſhould thereby act direct⯑ly contrary to the Intereſts of their Family; that they knew how a [...] ſhe was engaged in the Intereſt of the Houſe of Auſtria; and that they muſt follow her Example, in adhering cloſely to that Houſe. By this it is manifeſt, that ſhe had altogether forgot⯑ten her Native Country, ever ſince ſhe was put to it, to keep up the Splendour of her Childrens Family, by endeavouring to raiſe her Eldeſt Son to Royal Dignity. Theſe Princes having received theſe Orders from their Mother, gave the King thanks for the Honour he had offered to do them, but excuſed themſelves for not accepting of it: They frequented the Balls as formerly, tho' they were ſometimes engaged in other Buſineſs; as par⯑ticularly with the Marquis de Coaquin, a Perſon of Quality in Brittany, who had but a little before, married one of the Marſhal de Noaille's Daugh⯑ters.

[91] This was no ill Match for him, eſpecially, ſee⯑ing the Mareſhal was ſo much in favour. The King had given him the Command of his Army in Ca⯑talonia, though he was not a Man of ſo much Ex⯑perience as many others; for except, that he had commanded ſome Troops, in the time of Peace; be⯑cauſe he was firſt Captain of the Life-guards, all the Preferment he had come to, was to be Aide de Camp to His Majeſty. But the King added yet another Honour to this, and made him Mareſhal of France, in the Year 1693. though no body could ſee, that he had done any great things to de⯑ſerve ſuch a Preferment. However, whether it be that His Majeſty knows Peoples Merits better than others do; or if Fortune, which has favoured him in all his Undertakings, deſigned to approve of his Choice; this Mareſhal gained very ſoon a conſide⯑rable Battle: He had formerly taken the Towns of Roſes and Gironne; and then it was ſaid of him, that though he had not done any thing to deſerve the Mareſhal's Staff, when he firſt received it; yet he had afterwards made it appear, that he was worthy of it. His Father who was one of Cardinal Mazarin's Creatures, had been alſo a Captain of the Life-guards; and it was his Fortune to be rai⯑ſed to that Poſt when he was leaſt expecting it. It was in the King's Minority, and the Occaſion of it was this: The Queen Mother had become jealous of the Count de Termes; who was provi⯑ded of the ſame Charge, ſo that he was forced to remove from the King's Perſon, at a time when it was his Turn to have waited upon him. When he was diſmiſſed, ſhe ordered that another Cap⯑tain of the Guards ſhould take his Batton; but they had all promiſed to one another, to do nothing to the Prejudice of their Fellow-Officer; for which the Count de Charoſt was baniſhed; and Monſieur de Chandenier, was yet more unfortunate; for the Queen took his Commiſſion from him, and gave [92] it to the Marſhal de Nouailles's Father, ſo that he was never able to recover it, though he lived a long time after. It was not for want of Time, that he could not ſucceed; nor was it for want of Conjunctures, that ſeemed favourable enough for him, for he was of the ſame Family, that Ma⯑dam de Morte [...]pan was of: And ſince he was not more guilty than the Count de Charoſt, who was ſoon recalled from his Baniſhment, and made Duke and Peer of France; it may be ſaid, that there is nothing in this World, but good or bad Fortune: For this Man was ſo far from being in a worſe condition becauſe of his Diſobedience; that he rai⯑ſed his Fortune to ſuch a degree, that he could not deſire to raiſe it higher; while the unfortu⯑nate Marquis de Chandinier, was quite undone with his Fall.

Tho' it be to the only late Duke de Nouailles, that his Family owes the preſent Greatneſs, to which it has arrived; yet it muſt be confeſſed, that it is an ancient and honourable Family. I know that the preſent Madame de Bouillon, when ſhe was ſtriving for the Door with the Dutcheſs de Nou⯑ailles, ſpoke of her and her Family with ſo much Diſdain, that if her Word could have been taken for it, the Family of Nouailles ſhould have been thought a very deſpicable one: I know alſo, that ſhe produced ſome old Papers, by which it was found, that one Anthony de Nouailles, had been Steward of the Houſe, to the Viſcount de Turenne; but as Stewards of the Houſe at that time, were uſually Gentlemen, and as there are younger Brothers of good Families, who are forced to condeſcend to meaner things than he did; ſo that One Inſtance, ought not to give us any mean Opinion of that Family, which is certainly very noble and very ancient. And it cannot to be ſaid, that the Mar⯑quis de Coaquin match'd below his Quality; when he married a Daughter of it, though it be true, [93] that his Family has ſometimes made greater Al⯑liances: For not to go far back, his Mother was Rohan Chabot, and his Grandmother Orleans Lon⯑gueville. He had a great Eſtate in Brittany, which his Mother reſigned in his favour, as ſhe did al⯑moſt every thing ſhe could claim by her Marriage-Contract, and for her Dowry. For this is a La⯑dy of extraordinary Virtue, and ſo ſoon as ſhe had put her Affairs in order, ſhe reſolved to re⯑tire into a Convent, and reſerved nothing to her⯑ſelf, but 10000 Livres per Ann. which was by ve⯑ry much leſs than what ſhe had a Right to, if ſhe had exacted ſo much as ſhe might have done. Her Son was but 18 Years old, when he married Mada⯑moiſelle de Nouailles, but he was as tall a Man as he could expect to be at 25; and his Mother im⯑portuned him to take a Wife, becauſe he was the only Child his Father had left. This Lady had not been very happy in her Marriage, though ſhe was of an agreeable Complexion, and of a very good Air, yet ſhe had not ſo much Beauty as to pleaſe her Husband; and ſince ſhe knew by her own Expe⯑rience, what Diſguſts Husbands uſe to take at their Wives, when they are not altogether agreeable; ſhe ought at leaſt to have choſen an handſome La⯑dy for her Son, that he might not fall into the ſame Immoralities, that her Husband had done. But this was what ſhe had thought leaſt of, and ſhe had ſoon reaſon to repent of it. For upon the Morrow after the Marriage, when ſome of her Sons Friends came to pay him their Compliments, upon that Occaſion; he could not forbear telling them, that they needed not give themſelves that trouble; that his Mother had choſen a Dwarf for him, inſtead of a Wife: That it ſeem'd ſhe who was a devout Lady, had made this Choice, be⯑cauſe the Duke de Nouailles was devout alſo. But for his part, he wiſh'd his Wife more ſo than either of them; that he might not be troubled with ly⯑ing [94] with her: And that he was reſolved henceforth to treat her as a Relique; that is, that he ſhould never come near her, but upon Holy Days. From that day he gave ſuch Proofs of his want of Affection to her, that all the Family took notice of it: They all conſulted, what was fit to be done in ſuch a Caſe; that Monſieur de Coaquin, might not engage himſelf in thoſe lewd Cour [...]es, that Huſ⯑bands uſe to betake themſelves to, when they come to deſpiſe their Wives. The Archbiſhop of Paris, who is the Mareſhal's Brother, was called among the firſt, to give Advice in this matter: And they all agreed, that becauſe the new mar⯑ried Lady was pale as Death, which made her the more diſagreeable to her Husband, it was there⯑fore neceſſary to find out ſome Expedient, to give her a better Colour, they had recourſe to Painting, which is highly eſteem'd among the Ladies, who by daubing their Faces with white and red, make themſelves look to be of as fine Complexions as they plea [...]e. But many of the more ſcrupulous ſort of People, were ſurpriſed, when they heard, that ſo good a Man as this Prelate, and ſo de⯑vout a Lady as the Dowager of Nouailles, had adviſed ſuch a thing as that. But though the Archbiſhop of Paris, and the Dutcheſs de Nouailles, did not only cauſe this Lady's Face to be painted with white and red, but alſo cauſed Shooes to be made for her, with Heels that were a Quarter of an Ell high, that ſhe might thereby appear ſo much the [...]; yet ſhe was as unlovely in the Eyes of her Husband, as ſhe had been before; nay, he thought her the more ugly, upon this very account; inſomuch that inſtead of converſing with her, he entreated his Friends, who ſpoke to him ſometimes of her and of his Father in Law, that if they would oblige him, they would not ſo much as ſpeak either ill or good of them. In the mean time, he endeavoured to comfort himſelf, as well [95] as he could with good cheer, and in the Com⯑pany of ſome Ladies, whom he viſited, not upon the account of any familiar converſe, but that he delighted to vex them, and they were never more out of humour, than when they ſaw him come into their Company, ſo that they would gladly have gone out at the Window, to ſhun any converſe with him, if they could have done it.

The Mareſhal de Nouailles who has had more than twenty Children by his Lady, though ſhe be not to this time much above forty years, had as yet another daughter to marry, there was a great difference between her and Madam de Coaquin. The one was as agreeable, as the other was deformed; which made one ſay to the Marquis de Coaquin, that the Mareſhal had given him Leah, but had kept Rachel. There was abundance of young Gentlemen who were Suitors to this new Rachel, both becauſe her Father was much in favour at Court; and becauſe ſhe herſelf was ſo great a Beauty: The Count d' Eſtrees (who came to be happier than the reſt; for it was he that married her;) was of the number of thoſe who made their Addreſſes to her. His Ambition carried him to this, as much as any thing elſe. He conſidered, that though he was of a Family, which is in the Poſſeſſion of more Honours, in the Perſon of his Father and his two Uncles, than any other Family is, yet that was no⯑thing to him, unleſs he could attain to the like Ho⯑nours: For tho' his Fathers elder Brother was Duke and Peer of France, and that his Son had ſucceeded to him in the ſame Honours, and though his Fa⯑ther was Mareſhal of France, and his Uncle a Car⯑dinal, yet he himſelf had no Place or Rank at Court, and was only conſidered there, as a Perſon of Qua⯑lity, as Ten Thouſand others are. So that he ſaw nothing that could ſatisfie his Ambition, unleſs he went aboard of the Fleet, where he would be obliged to ſignalize himſelf, becauſe he had the Sur⯑vivance [96] of the Office of Vice-Admiral, which his Father was in Poſſeſſion of: His Uncle the Car⯑dinal, who had a greater Kindneſs for him, that for the Duke d' Eſtrees, though he was his Nephew as well as he, and by his elder Brother too, ad⯑viſed him to this Marriage; and he uſed his ut⯑moſt Endeavours to bring it about, as the only means whereby he might be made a Duke, as his Couſin was. And he was ſo earneſt in this Affair that he ſent Word to the Duke de Nouailles, tha [...] if he could preſume ſo much upon his favour, a [...] to employ him to procure a Dukes Patent to his Nephew, he ſhould marry his Daughter without one Farthing of Portion: And he promiſed alſo to make him his Heir, and to make the Inheritance as good as he could. The Duke de Nouailles, who had not much Money to give with his Daughter and who had given no great Portion with Madame de Ceaquin, though he had made a ſhew of con⯑tracting for [...] Franks, but it was in Cats are Rats, [...] to [...] that is, he had given him a Regiment, and ſome other leſſer Preſerments; the Duke I ſay, was not ſo rich, but that he had [...] to be [...] and ſparing of his Money; and he was well [...] with the Propoſal, but he was [...] to be [...]ond of it. And [...] to him [...] in the [...], had better [...] to that Honour, upon the a [...] [...] Fathers great Services [...] had with the King; but [...] to marry his Daugh⯑ter, [...] he had to [...] was true, he had more [...] others, to carry on ſuch [...] he was Captain of the [...] him an eaſie Acceſs to the King's Perſon; but that was not enough for a matter o [...] ſo great Importance, and therefore he ought no [97] to truſt to it ſo much, but that beſides marrying his Daughter, he ſhould take all the ſame meaſures he would do, if he were to marry another: But it was very difficult for the Count d' Eſtrees, to take thoſe meaſures; becauſe the Mareſhal would not give him ſo much Money, as was neceſſary to put his Affairs in a good Condition. For want of this, they reſolved upon all hands to deal with one Madame de Thoiſt, a rich Lady; ſhe was the Widow of a Maîere de Comptes, and ſhe had lent a conſiderable Sum to the Cardinal d' Eſtrees, and was not payed of it: And beſides, ſhe was a Friend of the Duke and Dutcheſs de Nouailles; and be⯑cauſe ſhe had no Children, they told her ſo often, that ſhe ought to adopt Madamoiſelle de Nouailles, for her Daughter, that though they could not pre⯑vail with her to leave her all her Eſtate, yet they perſwaded her to do ſomething for her. And ſhe offered at laſt, to give her what the Cardinal d' E⯑ſtrees owed her. But becau [...]e they would have more, the matter is put off to this time; for ſhe will not give away all her Eſtate in her own Life-time; yet ſhe promiſes, that beſides the Sum which the Cardinal owes her, which ſhe is willing to part with preſently, ſhe ſhall alſo conſider this young Lady in her Will; ſo that ſhe ſhall be ſure of ſomething more at her Death. That which ſell out between the Princes of Poland and the Marquis de Coaquin, was not at all for his Advantage; if we may be⯑lieve what is commonly reported. In the mean time, they took their Journey to return into their own Country; after they had been magnificently regaled, by many Perſons that belonged to the Court. Monſieur de Langlee, who is none of the leaſt conſiderable of them, if we conſider nothing but his expenſive way of living, was the firſt who gave them a ſplendid Entertainment; and acquit⯑ted himſelf very handſomly in it. He is now in poſſeſſion of being the firſt who regales Strangers of [68] great Quality upon their arrival: Which made the King ſay, ſome time ago, i e. before the arri⯑val of the two Princes, that Monſieur Langlee ſee⯑med to be made for no other end, but to entertain all the ſtrangers that came to Court. But he en⯑tertains Perſons of Quality, who are of the French Nation, as Magnificently, as he does ſtrangers. There is not a Man about the Court that regales our Princes and Princeſſes ſo often, as he does, and he has got into a Cuſtom, of providing a Collation for the Dauphin, as often as he comes to the Opera. It is but of late that he was in a condition to ac⯑quit himſelf well in ſuch an undertaking, for though his Father who was once but a poor man, and of mean extract, made up ſome ſmall eſtate to him, yet it was far from being ſufficient for ſuch coſtly Entertainments. He has raiſed his Eſtate by gaming; which has put him in a condition to build ſo many fine Houſes, and by which, he has ſo great yearly Revenues. And conſidering the firſt years of his gaming, and now that he is become rich, it may be ſaid of him, what was once ſaid to the Preſident Belli⯑evre by one that deſigned to flatter him. I confeſs that the beginning of this Diſcourſe would be inſipid, but that it is agreeable to the firſt beginnings of his fortune, and that the laſt part of it would be im⯑pertinent, but that it ſuits with his preſent Cir⯑cumſtances.

This Preſident, who was the chief Man in the Parliament of Paris, had always ſome Debate with Cardinal Mazarin, whom he did not much E⯑ſteem, and it may be, the Cardinal had as little E⯑ſteem for him, and perhaps he was in the right too. However, the Man I juſt now ſpoke of, knowing, what Opinion this Chief Preſident had of his Emi⯑nence; ſaid to him once, whilſt they were ſpea⯑king of him, that no great Account was to be made of ſuch Men, whoſe fortunes were volatile, and what ſhow ſoever they made, yet they were [99] but like glaring meteors, which diſappear'd in a ſhort time. But on the other hand, he ſaid that the Preſidents fortune was built upon a rock, and that he muſt be a Man of very little ſenſe, who did not ſee a great difference, between the one and the other. We may eaſily perceive, that the Man who ſpoke ſo, was beſt acquainted with old cuſtoms, ſince he magnified a chief Preſident ſo much, and undervalued a chief Miniſter. And at moſt it is only during a Kings minority, that this way of reaſoning will hold good. But now a days, he ſhould be accounted a Mad-man, or one that had returned from the other world, that would ſpeak at ſuch a rate. In a word, if Monſieur de Langlees fortune, might have been compared to a Meteor, while his high ſpending was [...]ounded only upon what he gained at game, yet he has now ſettled it upon ſo many fair Buildings, in Paris and in the Country, that we may ſay, what the Man ſaid to the Preſident, that he had now foun⯑ded it upon a Rock. Madame la Marquiſe de Be⯑thunes, who is the Queen of Polands Siſter, gave alſo a Magnificent Entertainment to the two Princes her Nephews. There were many Perſons of Quality, of both Sexes, at this feaſt, and it en⯑ded with a ſplendid Ball. Yet this Marchioneſs is not at all rich, nay ſhe's very poor to be ſiſter of a Queen; yet it was her own fault, that ſhe had not a better eſtate. For when her husband was Ambaſſadour in Poland, the Queen her Siſter was reſolved to make her rich; But ſhe became jea⯑lous, that the Queen was in love with her husband, and that it was for his ſake, that ſhe made ſo kind Offers. Her jealouſie made her commit a thou⯑ſand follies, which ſo diſpleaſed that Court, that her Husband dying there, all that ſhe brought to France from that Country, was a gift of a hundred thouſand Crowns, which the Late King of Poland gave her, upon the Eſtate of the Late Duke de Longueville.

This Monarch had lent this Money, while he [100] was but great Mareſhal of Poland, and when the Duke de Longueville was aſpiring to that Crown. But his Siſter the Dutcheſs de Nemours refuſed to pay it, as well as all the other ſums, which he had borrowed at that time, that he might attain to Royal dignity. She pretended, that her brother was under age, when he borrowed theſe ſums, and therefore, ſhe was not obliged to pay them. This gave occaſion to a Law ſuit, before the Coun⯑cil, and it appeared intricate and doubtful. For the Law forbids to lend Money to Minors; unleſs it be manifeſtly for their advantage, and therefore. So⯑bieſky ought to loſe his Money; becauſe the Duke was not of age when he borrowed it. But the Marchioneſs de Bethunes, as well as the Dukes other Creditors, anſwered to this, that what might be conſidered in the caſe of ordinary Loans, ought not to be conſidered in ſuch an extraordinary caſe as this was, when the borrower of the Money, deſigned to employ it for obtaining a Crown; and that this had been always the Opinion of the Prince of Condee, who while he was alive, was ſtill deſi⯑rous that Monſieur l' Abbee d' Orleans, who was Brother and heir to the deceaſed Duke de Lon⯑gueville, ſhould pay punctually the full intereſt, of all the Money that had been Borrowed upon that Account That it was he, who took care of all the Affairs of the Family of Longueville, becauſe L' Abbe d' Orleans, who was the Duke's elder Brother was but a weak Man, and unfit for Buſineſs. That, their Siſter the Dutcheſs de Nemours dared not to have ſpoken any thing againſt the payment of thoſe debts, ſo long as her Brother was alive. But now that he was dead, and that the Prince of Condee, who had always ſupported the Claim of the Creditors, was dead alſo; ſhe who loved Cavils and litigious de⯑bates, had brought them to the Trouble and Ex⯑pence of a Law Suit. It was firſt debated before the Parliament of Paris, but at laſt it was brought before [101] the Kings Council. Either becauſe the affair was of importance, or that it ought in courſe of Law to have been carried thither. And it was truly the Kings Intereſt to take cogniſance of it himſelf, eſ⯑pecially at ſuch a Juncture as that was, for it was his concern to gain the Polanders to the Prince of Conti's Intereſt, and not to give them cauſe to com⯑plain, that they were cheated by the Duke de Lon⯑gueville, who had borrowed Money of Sobieſky, and of ſeveral other Perſons of Quality among them. Therefore the King Ordered the Marquis de Bar⯑beſieux to conſider the caſe, and to report it fully in his Preſence. For the Secretaries of his Majeſty's Commands, of which this Marquis is one, are alſo Counſellors of ſtate, and have the ſame Com⯑miſſions, ſo that the King may Charge them with all ſorts of buſineſs, as he can do any of the reſt of that number. But after ſome days, his Majeſty conſidered, that ſo young a man as the Marquis de Barbeſieux, was ſcarcely capable of an affair of ſuch importance; and that an old and experienced Coun⯑ſellor of ſtate, would be much fitter for it. He therefore took it out of the Marquis's hands, and Committed it to Monſieur de Ribere. But Madame de Nemours's Council had found ſo many ſhifts, that this has been put off from time to time, and is not as yet determined. Yet it is believed that ſhe will be caſt in it, as ſhe was in another Law- [...]uit, which ſhe had againſt the Prince of Conti, before the Requetes du Palais. This caſe was of yet grea⯑ter importance than the former; and there were ſome Circumſtances in it, that were very conſide⯑rable, and therefore I ſhall give a full Account of it.

Monſieur l' Abbe d' Orleans, whom I juſt now mentioned, having renounced his right of Primo⯑geniture, in favour of the Comte de St. Paul his younger Brother, who thereafter took the Title of [102] Duke de Longueville, he was in a ſhort time reſtored to all his rights, by the Death of that Prince, who like a fool, was the Occaſion of his own Death, as he was paſsing the Rhine. Monſieur l Abbee was wil⯑ling to have made over the whole Eſtate to his Uncle the Prince of Condee; but this Prince, who enjoy⯑ed eighteen hundred thouſand Livres of yearly revenue, thought, that he had already more than was ſufficient to make him happy, if Riches alone can make us ſo; and therefore he adviſed him to give it to his Mother, Madame de Longueville, who had more need of it than he. The Abbee was a man that did every thing he was adviſed to, eſpecially if the Advice came from a Perſon of Authority, like the Prince de Condee: ſo that he agreed, that thoſe who managed his affairs, ſhould draw up his will, and that he ſhould ſign it. It was done as the Prince of Condee was pleaſed to order it, and the Abbee altered not ſo much as one word in it. By this will he gave over the Principality of Neufchatel in Suitzerland with ſome other poſseſsions, to his Mother the Dutcheſs de Longueville during her Life. But af⯑ter her Death the Prince of Condee had Right to them by the ſame will, if no new will ſhould be made. But he who had already refuſed them, was reſolved not to make any advantage of the Abbees will for the future, and therefore, he cauſed his right to be made over to the Prince of Conti, after the Death of the Dutcheſs. The Prince of Conti, had need of a good Eſtate, for his Fathers Marriage was diſad⯑vantageous for his Fortune, as well as for his Honour. He had reſigned the Abbacy of St. Denis, with many other good benefices, for the ſake of a Niece of Cardi⯑nal Mazarins, who was truely a Virtuous Lady, but her Uncle gave her nothing in Marriage, though he had ſo pillaged France, that he might have given her a great Eſtate, without pinching himſelf in the leaſt. Yet he had promiſed him Mountains of Gold, as he always uſed to do, when he had a deſign to co⯑zen [103] any body, but having dealt by her and her Huſ⯑band as he uſually did by all thoſe, with whom he had any buſineſs, though he might at leaſt have put ſome difference between him and others, both upon the Account of his Quality, and becauſe his Niece was Married to him. This Prince died very poor for a Perſon of his Rank. However The Dutcheſs de Nemours being informed of the Will, which her Brother had made, importuned him ſo, as that ſhe prevailed with him after the Prince of Condees Death, to make it void; and to make another will, by which he left the whole Inheritance to her. Now this Abbee dying ſoon after, and the Prince of Conti pretending, that the will which had been made in his favour, ought to prevail againſt this Laſt will, the Requetes du Palais were the proper Judges, in the firſt point of the controverſie. The Reaſons of his plea, were, that Monſieur l' Abbee d' Orleans was non Compos when he made the Laſt will, ſo that it ought to be conſidered as if ſuch a thing had never been done. If Madame de Nemours had been well adviſed, ſhe would have ſaid the ſame of him when he made his firſt will, and ſhe would have had no difficulty in proving it; ſo that the firſt being no better than the ſecond, ſhe ſhould have ſucceeded by law, to the whole Eſtate; without any ſentence in her favour, becauſe ſhe was his ſiſter. But her Council it ſeems was as Viſionary, as thoſe who live beyond the Alps, who plead for the Popes Infallibility. They maintain'd, that the Teſtator was ſound in his Judgment, when he made the ſe⯑cond will, whereby the firſt was made void. And they had no other way to prove this, but by the Popes Infallibility, who had put him into Prieſts orders, at the very time, that he made this ſecond will. And they alledged, that it could not be ſuppo⯑ſed, that the Pope would have ordained him Prieſt, if he had not been in his right wits. And they thought this ſo good a Reaſon, that they could not conceive, [104] how it could have been anſwered. So that they neglected all other reaſons, and adhered only to this one, to ſupport their Cauſe. The Prince of Conti deſired, he might be allowed to prove, that the Ab⯑bee was nonCompos when he made his laſt Will, which he offered to do by Evidences that could not be excepted againſt. He was allowed to prove it, and he pro⯑duced his Evidences, upon whoſe Depoſition the whole Cauſe depended. The Queſtion was, if Mon⯑ſieur l' Abbee d'Orleans was ſound in his Judgment, when he made his ſecond Will. But there was no great diffi [...]ulty to reſolve this Queſtion, for there were Evidences that told things of him, that could not have been ſaid of any Man, but one that was fit for a Bedlam. And among other things they de⯑poſed, that when he was going to ſay Maſs, the firſt time after he was ordained Prieſt; he ſtopped when he came near to the Rails, which uſually ſeparates the Sanctuary and the Altar from the Neve of the Church, and there he tried if he could jump over the Rails, with his Feet cloſe together. They de⯑poſed al [...], [...]hat when he found he was not able to do it, he came back about 20 Pac [...], that he might give himſelf more Force by running; and in this mann [...] [...] the Holy Sacri⯑fice unto God Almighty; a [...]d [...] g [...]ve a Thou⯑ſand other Proofs of his being a Fool, an Account of which wou'd be too tedious. Madam de Nemour's Council were aſton ſhed, when they heard the Evi⯑dences depoſe ſuch things as theſe, and they wiſhed then, that they had not relied ſo much upon the Popes Infallibility, and that they had taken better mea⯑ſures, but it was now too late. The Judges pro⯑ceeded to pronounce a Sentence, by which that Prince, the Abbee, was declared to have been non compos, when he made his ſecond Will.

Although the City of Paris, and all the Court were overjoyed, when they heard that the Prince of Conti, whom they lov'd ſo dearly had gain'd his [105] Cauſe; yet Madame de Nemours appealed to the Grand Chambre, where ſhe is ſtill proſecuting it; but no body doubts, but that the Sentence which was pronounced, will be confirmed by a Decree. Some time before this Sentence was pronounced, Madame de Nemours acted her part very dexte⯑rouſly, and like a Lady of good Conduct: She knew, that ſhe had a ſtrong Party to deal with, in her Law-ſuit; and therefore, as her Brother's Heireſs, ſhe had given the Principality of Neufchatel to the Chevalier de Soiſſons, a Baſtard Son of the late Count de Soiſſons, who was a Prince of the Blood, and her Uncle: For ſhe was the Daughter of one of his Si⯑ſters; who was married to the Duke de Longueville her Father, and after whoſe Death, he married the Prince of Condee's Siſter. Now, when ſhe gave this Principality to this Chevalier, ſhe had obliged him to marry the Marſhal de Luxenbourg's Daughter; hoping that the need the Kingdom had of the Services of ſo great a Captain, in ſo formidable a War, as it had to maintain againſt ſo many Enemies, would give her an Intereſt with the King, ſufficient to balance the Prince of Conti's. But this Marſhal died to his Daughter's great Loſs, before that the Sen⯑tence which I have given an account of, was pro⯑nounced; So that the Hopes vaniſhed, which Ma⯑dame de Nemours had comforted herſelf with, when ſhe contrived that Marriage. Though it muſt be confeſſed, ſhe took very good meaſures to bring about her Deſigns. But there was ſomething in it, that was ſtill worſe for the Chevalier de Soiſſons; for he had reſigned a good Abbacy that he might marry a Lady, who was neither rich nor handſome, and he had alſo taken the Title of Prince of Neuf⯑ [...]hatel, when he was upon the point of loſing the Principality.

Though the gaining of this Cauſe, was for the Prince of Conti's Advantage, yet it was nothing in compariſon of the Crown of Poland; which per⯑haps [106] the King had obliged him to think of, more than he would have done, had he followed his own Inclinations: For he was become paſſionately in love with a Lady of great Quality; Inſomuch, that tho' a Crown be ſo conſiderable, as that it deſerves to be preferred to all other things; yet he ſeem'd not to to be too much concerned with it, leſt he ſhould have been obliged to quit his Miſtreſs. But it was quite otherwiſe with Madame the Princeſs of Conti; the thing in the World ſhe wiſhed moſt was, that her Husband might be a King: Ambition, which is natural to Perſons of her Rank and Quality, made her paſſionately deſirous of this; but beſides, ſhe hoped, that the Crown of Poland would take off her Husband, from the Affection he had for the o⯑ther Lady; which yet ſhe durſt not complain of, for fear of diſpleaſing him, and for ſome other Rea⯑ſons that muſt not be publiſhed. However, this Deſign for the Crown of Poland, met with great Oppoſition, and as the Houſe of Auſtria, was mind⯑ful of its own Concerns in the preſent Juncture of the Affairs of Europe, that it might by all means procure that Crown to one, who would cloſely ad⯑here to its Intereſts. So the Prince of Conti, was not the only Perſon, that was in Competition for it, with Prince James. Prince Lewis of Baden, Ge⯑neral of the Imperial Forces, and whoſe Merits were not much ſhort of his own, was alſo one of the Competitors; and King William ſeemed to fa⯑vour his Pretentions againſt Prince James; but this was only a ſort of Phantome, which was brought forth upon the Theatre, to frighten the Actors, while his Imperial Majeſty had reſolved un⯑der-hand in his Cabinet-council, to cauſe the Ele⯑ctor of Saxony to be choſen, who for ſome Years paſt, had been cloſely in his Intereſts, and comman⯑ded his Forces in Hungary, This Elector was a man of true Courage, as well as the Prince of Conti and Prince Lewis of Baden; ſo that the Po⯑landers [107] could not refuſe him upon that Score: For they are People, who will not have a King, but one that is capable both by Courage and Conduct, to head their Armies in Perſon, when it comes to fighting. But the great difficulty that they had to remove was, that he was a Lutheran; and this ſeem'd a very great one, becauſe among the ma⯑ny Laws, that the Polanders have made, for the Government of their Kingdom, they have eſtabli⯑ſhed this, for an unalterable one; that no Man ſhall be choſen King of Poland, but he who is of the Roman Communion. And therefore, when the Em⯑peror communicated his Deſigns to the Elector of Saxony, of advancing him to the Throne of that Kingdom; he inſinuated to him at the ſame time, that there was a neceſſity for him to change his Religion: At laſt, whether it was that he had but little Religion, as ordinarily the Great Men of the World have but a ſmall ſhare of it, or if it may be imputed to any other cauſe, I do not know; but he not only agreed to do what was deſired of him, but he alſo abjured it privately, before the Biſhop of Javarin; yet he did not this, till he ſaw, that there was a Party in Poland formed for him, which was capable to put the Crown on his Head: The Deſigns of this Party were kept ſo ſecret, that Monſieur L' Abbee de Polignac, had not the leaſt notice of them, but continued to believe, that he had no body to grapple with, but Prince James, whom he was not much afraid of, becauſe of his diſobli⯑ging Conduct: And the People were generally of Opinion, that he would follow his Example in too many things. So that Monſieur L' Abbee wrote to the French Court, that he hoped in a ſhort time to bring the whole matter to an happy Iſſue. The Biſhop of Cujavia, whom the whole Houſe of Au⯑ſtria did chiefly rely on, for making its Deſigns effectual; being afraid that he ſhould not be ſucceſsful, becauſe all the People had ſo great an [108] Eſteem for the Prince of Conti, and eſpecially the Ladies, who all deſired him for their King; thought it beſt to deal craftily in this matter, and to ma⯑nage it to the beſt advantage he could for himſelf, when he found that he was at the Head of a Fa⯑ction, that at leaſt might make the French Em⯑baſſadour jealous of him, tho' it was not as yet ſo ſtrong as his own. He cauſed it to be told him under-hand, that if he deſired that he might not croſs his Deſigns, it was in his Power to hinder him from doing it. That he knew he aſpired to be a Cardinal, and that he conſidered, that the only way how he could attain to that Dignity, was by his being ſucceſsful in his Negotiations for the Prince of Conti But if he would renounce all Pretentions in his favour, he would joyn Intereſts and unite Factions with him, by which means the Crown of Poland, would be infallibly ſecured to that Prince. No good Subject would have refuſed what this Bi⯑ſhop deſired, though perhaps no Man would have yielded to it, but with ſome Reluctancy. But Mon⯑fieur L'Abbee ſcorned to hearken to ſuch a Propoſal, and did not ſo much as communicate it to the French Court, but purſued his former Deſigns; while the Biſhop ſtrengthned his Faction, by bringing over into it, the Party that had been for Prince James; for his Mother the Queen of Poland, was ſo enraged againſt the French, becauſe they had traverſed all her Deſigns for her Son; that ſhe had rather the Polan⯑ders ſhould chuſe any other Man than the Prince of Conti; ſo little did ſhe remember the Place of her Birth, or that the King of France had been ſo inſtru⯑mental as he was in the Election of the late King her Husband. Yet among all the Factions that were a⯑mong the Palatinates, there was one thing in which they all agreed, that what Perſon ſoever they ſhould chuſe for King, he ſhould purchaſe their Suffrages with good round Summs of Money; ſo that the 200000 Crowns, which the Prince of Conti had ſent [109] into that Country, was but as a drop of Oyl in a grea [...] Fire; but the King ſupplied his Indigence, and ſent thither at one time and another 4000000 of Crowns. The Elector of Saxony borrowed Money with both Hands, from ſeveral Princes; that he might ſatisfie the covetous Deſires of the Polanders; and King William lent him great Sums as well as the Elector of Brandenburg: In the mean while, this Prince made ſome of his Troops march toward the Confines of the Duke of Saxony's Dominions, that lie neareſt to Po⯑land; as if there had been ſome Difference between them, and the Elector of Saxony took Occaſion from that to carry his own Troops out of Hungary, under pretence to defend his Dominions againſt the Duke of Brandenburg. But all this marching of Troops on both ſides, was only that they might join their Forces together in caſe of need; that is, in caſe there ſhould be a double Election, as there was great ap⯑pearance of it; that ſo the Duke of Saxony, might make good his Election by Force of Arms.

While theſe things were doing, the Prince of Con⯑ti diverted himſelf the beſt way he could, as if he had not in the leaſt been concerned in any Buſineſs of Importance. He ſpoke of buying a Houſe at Berci, as the Dukes de Chaulnes and de Geſvres had done; for each of them had one in that Town: The Duke d'Elbeuf who has that in common with many other Perſons of Quality, that he does not always ſpeak truth hearing him ſpeak of a particular Houſe, that belonged to one of the Farmers of the King's Reve⯑nues, whoſe Name was—with which he ſaid he was very well pleaſed; offered immediately to deal effectually with the Landlord, and that the Prince ſhould have a good Bargain on't: And that he might believe, that he could perſwade the Farmer to do any thing, he told the Prince, that if he pleas'd to ſup in that Houſe to morrow night, he would oblige the Maſter of the Houſe to provide a Supper for him, and then he ſhould have an Opportunity to ſee the [110] whole Contrivance, and all the Conveniencies of the Houſe. The Prince of Conti was well pleaſed with the Propoſal; and told him that he was engag'd to be with the Dutcheſs de Bouillon at that time; but he would rather diſengage himſelf than miſs ſuch an Opportunity: So they made an Appointment at that Houſe, to morrow in the Evening. But while the Prince of Conti was at Dinner, the Duke d'Elbeuf ſent to tell him, that the Appointment could not be kept, becauſe the Landlord, who was not accuſto⯑med to entertain Princes of the Blood in his Houſe, was con [...]ounded with the Thoughts of it: as for him⯑ſelf, he was reſolved to take the Advantage of that Diſappointment, and that if the Prince was pleaſed to put off the Appointment till to morrow, he would do himſelf the honour to entertain him at dinner in the ſame Houſe, with Seven or Eight of his Friends; ſuch as he ſhould chuſe. The Prince of Conti ſaid to the Man who brought him this Meſſage, that he thank'd the Duke d'Elbeuf for it, and that he ac⯑cepted of it, and would be timely at the Houſe to morrow, that he might have time to take a full View of it and conſider it. He invited the Mar⯑quis de Coaſtin, the Preſident de Meſmes, Monſieur Caumartin, and ſome other Perſons of Quality, to go along with him; but on the Morrow's morning came another from the Duke to make an Apology, that he could not wait upon him as he had promiſed, be⯑cauſe of ſome Buſineſs of Importance, that had un⯑expectedly fallen out, and which he was obliged to look after. But there was not ſo much as one Word of all this true: He did not ſo much as know the Man to whom the Houſe belonged; he had not given him any Notice of the Appointment, which the Prince and he had made to ſup at his Houſe, nor had he any deſign himſelf, to entertain him at din⯑ner in the ſame Houſe; ſo that there were as ma⯑ny Lies as Words, in all that he had ſaid to him upon that Head. The Prince of Conti made a Jeſt [111] of all this, with his Friends, without troubling him⯑ſelf any more about it. There was one Mr. Cha⯑pelle, who had been formerly one of the Prince's Domeſticks, but at this time a Farmer of the Re⯑venues, hearing one ſpeak of it to Mr. Caumartin; went to his old Maſter and told him, that though he was far below the Duke d'Elbeuf's Quality, yet he ſhould acquit himſelf better of his Promiſe than he had done, in giving him an Entertainment at that very Houſe, provided the Prince would not take it amiſs, that he had preſumed to invite him to it. The Prince anſwered, that he was well ſa⯑tisfied with it, and made a new Appointment with his Friends, to be there to morrow in the Evening, and Mr. Chapelle regaled him ſplendidly. There were at this Entertainment many Perſons of Quality, both of Civil and Military Employments; and among the reſt there were preſent thoſe, whom the Prince had invited, when he was to have ſupped there upon the Duke d'Elbeuf's Invitation. They diſcourſed about a great many things; and as it was impoſſible they could forget the Duke, ſo they took occaſion to ſpeak of a Viſit, that his Miſtreſs had lately paid to the Archbiſhop of Paris; becauſe he had made an Ordinance, wherein this Lady found herſelf con⯑cerned. There were many Perſons who had taken advantage of his Predeceſſors eaſie Temper, and had obtained leave of him to have Chappels in their own Houſes; and under pretence of hearing Maſs in theſe private Chappels, they came ſo ſeldom to Church, that they ſcarcely heard Maſs there, at the Four great Feſtivals of the Year. Now the Archbiſhop thought it neceſſary to remedy this Cuſtom, and for that end he ſuppreſſed all thoſe Licenſes, that his Predeceſſors had granted; and ordained, that all thoſe who deſired to have the Benefit of them for the time to come, ſhould appear before him, that he might examine the reaſons upon which the Licenſes had been granted. The Dukes Miſtreſs [112] had got one of theſe Licences, and ſhe paid a viſit to the Archbiſhop, and intreated him to confirm what his predeceſsor had done. But this Prelat, having heard of her Lewdneſs and Licentious way of Living, which was ſo publick, that even her ſon had made no ſcruple ſometime before to ſay to the King, when he asked him, if he would be ready in a ſhort time, to go to the Army; that he could not be ſo ſoon in a readineſs to go thither, becauſe his Mother had been more concerned to get ready the Duke d'Elbeufs Equipage, than his. This Prelat I ſay, who knew all this, and a Thouſand other ill things of her; an⯑ſwered her coldly, that thoſe who would wo [...]ſhip God acceptably, muſt fi [...]ſt know him, and fear him, and that thoſe who did know him and fear him, would always think their pains well beſtowed, when they went to Church where the reſt of his ſ [...]rvants uſe to ſerve and worſhip him; and without ſaving any more to her, he refuſed to Grant her requeſts. The Prince of Conti, and all the Company Commen⯑ded the Archbiſhop, for having ſpoken to her after this manner, for tho it was but a word or two that he had ſaid; yet it was Enough, to make her reflect of her own ill Conduct. The moſt part of them ſaid alſo, that the Duke d'Elbeuf was much in the wrong, to deal ſo unkindly as he did, by his own Lady, for the ſake of an old antiquated Whore, who had the Impudence ſometimes to boaſt of the fineneſs of her Complexion, when it was well enough known, that it was Entirely owing to painting; But there were ſome, who undertook to juſtify the Duke, though they could not juſtify this Lady his Miſtreſs. They pleaded in his behalf, that ſince he had nothing to Live by, or to ſupport his Character, except his Go⯑vernment, he could not be much blamed, for ha⯑ving a Kindneſs for a Lady, that rewarded him ſo Liberally as ſhe did; That ſhe was frequently giving him good ſums, and therefore he diſpenſed with her age. That there were ſeveral others who would do the [113] ſame thing, if they were in his circumſtances: and in a word it was an ordinary thing among the young Beaus of the Court.

This was not the only Lady whom they had put on the foot of paying them well. In the mean time, it had been always the fate of King Charles the 2d. who had been mightily in love with this Lady, to have Miſtreſſes who fought only to enrich them⯑ſelves at his expence, and with his ſpoils to enrich others before his face. Another Dutcheſs, whom this Prince had Lov'd, before this, had uſed him the very ſame way as this did, and the Chevalier de Cha⯑lillon, who is known at preſent in the world, under the name of Marquis, had continued to render her good ſervice as long as ſhe had wherewithal to re⯑compence him; and ſhe thought ſhe employ'd her Money very well, becauſe he was handſome and very well ſhap'd, and beſides, he was al⯑ways ready when ſhe had a Mind for him. For ſhe was a woman that gave no quarter to her Lovers, and pay'd them only in proportion to their ſervices. She had learn'd from a Lady that was her friend, and who had Learned it herſelf from an old Counteſs de Vertus, that things ought to be done in this manner, and at leaſt that this was the practiſe of the old Counteſs her ſelf, who paſſed amongſt the women of her time for the Cunningeſt that was among them all. The world indeed had accus'd her of weakneſs of judgment, but they had done her the greateſt in⯑juſtice that can be done to a Woman; ſince ſo far from being a Fool as was Pretended, ſhe had made it appear by one of the Principal Actions of her Life, that never any Lady had better underſtanding: for being grown old, and yet the prick of the fleſh continuing to torment her, ſhe took the Method that any honeſt Woman ought to take, which was, to find out a Husband for herſelf, tho ſhe was quite decrepid. In the mean time, knowing by the ex⯑perience that ſhe had of the world, that ſhe might come to be deceiv'd, unleſs ſhe took all the precauti⯑on [114] that prudence could poſſibly ſuggeſt, ſhe did two things which ſhew the greatneſs of her Judgment. One was, to caſt her Eyes on a Man whoſe figure promiſed fairly; The other was, to make a bar⯑gain with him, to oblige him to his good behaviour. This Man was the Chevalier de la Porte, who after the ſame manner as the Chevalier de Châtillon is now from Chevalier come to be a Comte. He was of a good Family, and tho he was not come of the Dukes of Br [...]tagne, as her firſt Husband was, yet ſhe could put him in his place, without being accus [...]d of making a mean Alliance. So being ſatisfy'd both of his Perſon and of his Birth, the Queſtion was only how to ſe⯑cure herſelf againſt the diſguſts, which a Husband uſu⯑ally takes, eſpecially when intereſt has oblig'd him to take the burthen of an old Carcaſs, which he never marries but in the view and hope of being quickly rid of it. A Woman of ſo much knowledg and Experience was not eaſily to be deceiv'd, and behold too, what Meaſures ſhe took to avoid it. Af⯑ter ſhe had expreſs'd the tender Sentiments ſhe had for him, by which he reckon'd himſelf extremely Honored, becauſe he had nothing, and ſhe was very Rich, then ſhe ſhewed him a ſtrong box, in which there was Fifty Thouſand Crowns of ready Money. Having opened it too, that he might be the more fully aſſured of what was in it, and having let him look on it as long as was enough to make him in love with it, ſhe told him, that here was, what ſhe in⯑tended to give him, on Condition that when he was her Husband he ſhould uſe her kindly. The Cheva⯑lier de la Porte, who knew as well as any Man alive, how to make Promiſes; ſwore to her, Mountains and wonders, to perſwade her, that if ever ſhe did him that favour, he had rather dye a Thouſand Deaths, than ever to be guilty of Ingratitude. It ſeems he thought ſhe would truſt to his Swearing. But the Counteſs retaining ſtill her former ſenti⯑ments, told him, that tho' ſhe believed him a Man [115] of Honour and in that Quality that he would keep his word to her, nevertheleſs that ſhe would take ſuch Precautions with him, that ſhe ſhould have no reaſon ever to repent of; that a Husband very often laught at the Promiſes which he made to his Wife; that ſhe had no Mind to be diſappointed, and therefore had reſolved to tell him once for all, that if he would have her 50 Thouſand Crowns, he muſt merit them by uſing her obligingly; that the beſt thing a Husband can do to a Wife is to careſs her frequently; that on her part ſhe promiſed to give him ten Louis d'ors for every time he careſſed her, and as often and as far as he erred his performances, he might reckon to be payed accordingly. At this rate, if he careſſed her but three times a Night, there was thirty Louis d'ors ſure for him in the Morning, but if he puſhed his valor further, he might quickly make the ſtrong Box paſs from her Cloſet into his own. This clauſe and Condition was not very agreeable to the Che⯑valier, tho on other occaſions he had been often at work, without being ſo well Rewarded. But hav⯑ing a Paſſion for this Money, he conſented to gain it with the ſweat of his Brow. The Lady married him privately, and keeping her word to him every Morning in Proportion to his ſervices, he had quick⯑ly emptied the ſtrong box, if the Lady's Children had not perceived the intrigue betwixt them. They ſpoke to her of it, as a thing that made the world talk ſtrangely of her conduct, and the Lady, finding herſelf ſtraitned in this point, told them at laſt, that they were unjuſt to ſuſpect her of Lewdneſs, that ſhe did nothing but what was Lawful for her to do, that ſhe was Married to the Chevalier, and that ſhe would lye with him as often as ever ſhe plea⯑ſed. Her Children knowing that ſhe had ready Money, and that this was the high way to ſquander it, endeavoured to get the Marrige annulled, on pretext, that her great Age, for ſhe was at leaſt Se⯑venty and two, had made her Incapable to know what ſhe was doing. The Affair being brought [116] before the Judges, the Advocates pleaded on both ſides; theſe for the Children, alledged ſtrongly what they had been told, that the Lady was moap'd and ſilly, and that the Chevalier had ſurpriz'd and im⯑pos'd on her Weakneſs; but the Advocates on the other ſide, having utterly run down this Pretext, by producing the Bargain which ſhe had made with the Chevalier, and which ſhe had given him fairly in Writing; the Children had certainly loſt their Cauſe, but the Judges would not ſuffer the Chevalier, whoſe Deſire to empty the ſtrong Box, had brought him almoſt on his laſt Legs already, to go on to kill himſelf.

They conſidered likewiſe, that the Lady by this means, would ruin her Children; for if this Coffer were once emptied, ſhe would ſell all that ſhe had, rather than fail to fill it again, in order to enter⯑tain the good Services, which the Chevalier had not fail'd to perform very conſtantly. So the Mar⯑riage was annull'd by Decree of Parliament, who nevertheleſs appointed the Chevalier to have 20000 Crowns, for the Reward of his Labour.

The King of England's Miſtreſſes us'd him much after the ſame manner, and made him pay as dear for his Pleaſures, as this old Lady paid to the Chevalier; eſpecially ſhe to whom this little Hiſtory was told, and whom the Marquis de Châtillon did ſo drain of her Acquiſitions, that ſhe is now as poor and miſerable as once ſhe was opulent. As for the other, whom the Duke d'Elbeuf frequented, ſhe managed it a little better, though in the mean time ſhe ſtuck at no Expenſe or Reward, when he threat⯑ned to leave her, and go and puſh his Fortune elſe⯑where.

But, let us now paſs to ſome other Subject: We muſt know then, that ſhe who was Lady of Honour to Madam la Dutcheſſe, being reſolved to retire from Court, her Place which is worth 2000 Crowns of Penſion per Ann. was ſought for, by a great many [117] Ladies of Quality; who beſides the 2000 Crowns which they had in their View, conſidered alſo, that thereby they ſhould have Opportunities to get into His Majeſty's Favour; for he deſires to have one al⯑ways about Madam la Dutcheſſe, who will give him an exact Account of all that ſhe does: And it is of for that reaſon, that he has appointed theſe ſorts of Ladies of Honour, both for her and the other Princeſſes of the Blood; and that he himſelf has ſettled penſions upon them. And he has a politick deſign in it, for thereby he keeps both them and their Husbands in their Duty, becauſe they know, that they have one in their Houſe, who takes notice of every thing they do; ſo that they dare not adventure upon any thing that may in the leaſt diſpleaſe the King. The Marchioneſs de la Porte, whoſe Husband was once Admiral of a Squadron, and Nephew of the Comte de la Porte, whom I ſpoke of juſt now, having but a ſmall Eſtate to live by, thought, that it would be very convenient for her, to have that Poſt, eſpecially ſhe having been a Wi⯑dow for ſeveral Years. She had ſeveral Friends, and among others, the Marquis d' Angeau, who has ſome Intereſt at Court, and did his utmoſt to have carried the Place for her. He was once in a fair way to have ſucceeded in it, but that it was told the King, that this Lady was not of ſufficient Quality for ſo honourable an Employment; yet no body ad⯑ventured to ſpeak any thing againſt her Conduct, for though ſhe be no great Beauty, yet ſhe is of ſo great Virtue, that ſhe's as much eſteemed, as thoſe who are much more beautiful: And the late Monſieur de Croiſſy, was once afraid, that his Son, who is now Secretary of State, ſhould be ſo taken with this Lady's true Merit, as to make a ſecret Marriage with her; and therefore he ſent him into Italy, where he made him ſtay ſome Years, and did not recal him, till he thought it probable, that his long Abſence had cured him of the Wounds, which his Converſe with her had given him.

[118] But her Enemies made uſe of another Argument againſt her; to which, had ſhe got but a fair hear⯑ing, ſhe could have ſo ſatisfied the King, that no doubt ſhe would have obtained her Deſire. But they impoſed upon His Majeſty, and told him, that there were Two Families of la Porte in France; that the one of them was a good Family, and the other was naught, that ſhe was of the laſt, and Monſieur de Mazarine was of the firſt, and if he ſhould pre⯑fer her to be Lady of Honour to Madame la Dutch⯑eſſe, People of the loweſt Rank might pretend to Advancement, as well as ſhe. And by this means, they prevailed ſo far, as that ſhe was excluded, and the Marchioneſs de l' Angle, was preferred to that Place. Though in the mean time, ſhe could have juſtly pleaded, that her Husband was of as good a Family as the Marquis de la Porte, for the Marquis was of la Porte de Veſins, and Monſieur de Mazarin was of another la Porte. At leaſt this was ſaid when the Mareſhal de la Milleray, who was the Marquis's Father, had made his Fortune under the Miniſtry of Cardinal Richelien, with whom he was firſt Couſins. It is true, there were ſome who then alledged, that his Father the Advocate la Porte, was not deſcended of the Family de la Porte de Veſſins, though he pretended to be of it; and the Mar⯑quis de Veſins was not well pleaſed with his Pre⯑tences, inſomuch, that he would have challenged him for taking the Coat of Arms, that belongs to his Family, but that he was ſo afraid of the Car⯑dinal's Greatneſs, that he ſpoke nothing of it, unleſs it was to ſome particular Friends, to whom he would ſometimes ſay, by way of Jeſt, that thoſe who ad⯑viſed him to enter into a Law-ſuit, with the Mare⯑ſhal upon that account, gave him bad Counſel; that he did not ſee how it could be pretended, that the Ma⯑reſhal had done him any Diſhonour, by entring him⯑ſelf a Deſcendant of his Family, that on the contrary, he look'd upon it, as an evidence that the Mareſhal con⯑ſidered [119] his Family, as better than many others, for which he was much obliged to him.

This was not the firſt time, the King had been impoſed upon, on ſuch Occaſions. The late Mar⯑quis de Renel, had ſome Enemies at Court, who in⯑ſinuated to His Majeſty, that he was but of a very late Family, ſo, that though he was a Perſon of great Merit, yet the King who has great Conſiderations for Birth, look'd upon him, as one of thoſe, whom he ought not to advance ſo ſoon as others; for there are People, of certain Names and Ranks, who have ſome Right to hope, that they ſhall not lan⯑guiſh ſo long as others do, in the meer Expectation of the Favours, which his Majeſty uſes to beſtow upon his Subjects. However, this Marquis having a great Deſire to be Lieutenant General of the King's Armies, and thinking, that he ought to have been preferred ſooner, he took occaſion to ſpeak of it one day to the King, and fairly repreſented to him, what good Services he had done him. The King gave him a favourable Hearing, as he always uſes to do to thoſe, who addreſs to him, though few of them have the Honour to be known to him. But when his Majeſty was pleaſed to anſwer him, the Marquis was ſurpriſed to hear him ſay, that he was in the wrong to be ſo impatient, and that he belie⯑ved, he had done as much for him, as for any Man of his Rank. That every Man ought to do him ſo much Juſtice, as not to think he was forgotten or neglected; though Perſons of great Quality were preferred to him. That it was true, that Merit ought to be rewarded, wherever it was found, and that he had always had a ſpecial Regard to it, ever ſince he had governed by himſelf, but that there were certain Families, which he thought fit to prefer to others, for they had been always in poſſeſſion of the moſt honourable Offices, and the higheſt Preferments, both at Court, and in the Ar⯑my; and that he could not without Injuſtice, de⯑prive [120] their Children of them, unleſs he found that they had degenerated from the Virtue of their An⯑ceſtors. The Marquis ſoon perceived by this Diſ⯑courſe, that his Majeſty had been poſſeſſed with a mean opinion of his Birth: But he was ſo far from cont adicting what his Majeſty had ſaid, in favour of thoſe who had been of honourable Families, that he told him, it was for that very reaſon, that he thought himſelf neglected, that though he was not a Duke and Peer, or had not ſo much as any Office of the Crown, yet he was of as good a Family, as the moſt part of thoſe, who had been advan⯑ced to higher Poſts: That his Anceſtors had had the Honour to do good Services, to his Majeſty's Royal Anceſtors, and that ſo long as he followed their Example, he did not ſee, why he was not capable of any of thoſe Offices, that are deſigned for Per⯑ſons of the beſt Quality. If the Marquis was ſur⯑priſed at His Majeſty's Diſcourſe, the King was no leſs ſurpriſed at his. He had always thought, that the Marquis was one of thoſe upſtart Mar⯑quiſes, of whom there are ſo many at Paris, and eſpecially of Citizens, who take upon them this Title, though the Foundations of it were laid only in their Fathers Coffers, or in ſome Offices of the Gown, which ſome of their Family has enjoyed. And being deſirous to be fully informed in this mat⯑ter, he asked him, if it was not true, that had been told him, that he was only de la Nobleſſe Bourgeoiſe, i. e. one who derived his Pedigree, only from rich Citizens, or from thoſe who had enjoyed Offices of the Long Robe, as was ſaid of the late Arch⯑biſhop o [...] Paris. When I ſpeak after this manner, it is in Imitation of the Biſhop of Noyon. For that Prel [...]te, who is the Glory of Prelates, yet not in the [...] in which he ought to be it▪ but only, be⯑ca [...]e he thinks, that no Man is comparable to him, for the Quality of his Anceſtors: and ſpeaking one day of the Family of that Archbiſhop, he ſaid, that it [121] could not be called an Honourable Family, but only one of the beſt of thoſe Families, that have been rai⯑ſed by Lawyers, or that had made a Figure among the Citizens of Paris. What he ſaid was true upon the matter, for there is a great difference between a Family that is truly honourable, and ſuch a Fami⯑ly as he was ſpeaking of; but ſometimes, all the Truth ſhould not be told, eſpecially if there is a great man who may take it amiſs: for ſome days after the Chief Preſident of the Parliament, who is deſcended of the ſame Family, that the late Archbiſhop was of, made the Biſhop of Noyon ſenſible of his Folly. The Biſhop being come to dine with him, and his Coach⯑man having carried home his Coach Horſes, reſol⯑ving to return with them in the Afternoon; the Chief Preſident, who had been informed of what he had ſaid of his Family, and who is ſeldom upon the Re⯑ſerve with any man, eſpecially, if he have any Quar⯑rel againſt him, no ſooner ſaw him, but he gave or⯑ders to the Steward of his Houſe, not to ſerve up din⯑ner, till he was gone. The Biſhop ſtaid till the or⯑dinary time of Dinner was paſt, and long'd for it, but ſeeing no appearance of it, he asked the Preſident if that was one of his Faſting Days, he told him plain⯑ly, that it was not, but that he had given Orders, that no Dinner ſhould be ſerved up, till he was gone, becauſe it would be too great Preſumption in him, and a Token that he had forgotten the meanneſs of his Birth, which was but of the Nobleſſe Burgeoiſe, if he ſhould offer to entertain at his Table, ſo great a Seig⯑ [...]e [...]r, and one of ſuch an illuſtrious Deſcent, as he was of; to this he added ſome other Words to the ſame Purpoſe; and the Biſhop was puzzled what to ſay to him; but after ſome dull Apologies, he was for⯑ced to go home and dine at his own Houſe; yet he would fain have ſtaid dinner with the Preſident, be⯑cauſe his Coach Horſes were not there; but the Pre⯑ſident choſe to let him have the uſe of his Coach, ra⯑ther than he ſhould have ſtaid dinner at his Houſe. [122] But to return to the Marquis de Renel, he ſaid to the King, that he knew no ſuch thing in his Family, as la Nobleſſe Burgeoiſe; that every one of his An⯑ceſtors, wore a Sword by his Side, and if there were any of the Family that had not done it, it was be⯑cauſe he was conſecrated to the Church, as was the Cardinal d' Amboiſe, who had the Honour, to be the firſt Miniſter of the Crown. When he ſpoke of this Cardinal, the King perceived, that he had been impoſed upon, by thoſe who had made him believe, that the Marquis was but of a late Family, and of mean Extract. So that, afterwards he did him Juſtice, and gave him what he had asked.

The Duke de Choiſeul, who had diſcorded with his Lady, was reconciled to her, after his Return from Savoy. She could hardly be prevailed with to live with her Husband, and though ſhe was fully as much to blame, as he was, for the Breach that was betwixt them; yet ſhe pretended, that it was not ſafe for her to live with him. But the King told her, that ſhe had but one of two Things to chuſe, either to cohabit with her Husband, or to go into a Nunnery. The very Thoughts of a Nun⯑nery, is enough to fright a Lady, eſpecially, when ſhe has any Inclinations to be a Coquette, ſo that the very ſpeaking of it, was enough to oblige her, to obey his Majeſty's Commands. But the King's Care extended farther than to thoſe Ladies, who did not live as they ought to do with their Husbands, he took care alſo, to curb the Extravagancies of many others, even though they did not belong to the Court, and being informed, that Monſieur l' Ab⯑bee Lionne, the Son of the late Monſieur Lionne, Miniſter and Secretary of State, and who enjoyed the Abbacy of Marmoutier, with a great many o⯑ther rich Benefices, did not behave himſelf ſo well, as his Character obliged him to do, he ſent him a Letter de Cachett, ordering him to retire into a Seminary. He alſo appointed one to ſtay with [123] him, and to take care, that when any Benefices, that were at his Gift, became vacant, he ſhould neither diminiſh the Revenues of them, nor be⯑ſtow them upon unworthy Perſons. Monſieur l' Abbee Roullier, whoſe Father had made ſo great an Eſtate by the Poſt Office, that he ſettled all his Children, as if they had been Perſons of ſome Quality, was alſo ſent to the Seminary of Notre Dame de Vertus, with an Order to thoſe that had the Inſpection of him, that they ſhould not allow him to correſpond with any Perſon, and that they ſhou'd oblige him to do Pennance; for all this was neceſſary, to reduce him to a right ſenſe of his Duty, ſeeing he had become a Rake, and led ſuch a profligate Life, that he equally diſgraced the Character of an Abbee, with which he had been honoured, and that of a Magiſtrate, with which he was alſo cloathed; for he was Coun⯑ſellor Clerk of the Parliament of Paris: But he had ſo little Regard to what became the Dignity of thoſe two Places, that there was not a grea⯑ter Debauche in all the City. But notwith⯑ſtanding all the Care his Majeſty took, to repreſs Immoralities, and to oblige all Perſons, to live ſuitably to their Characters; yet the Genera⯑lity of them, were ſo far from anſwering that Deſign, that there were greater Abuſes committed than ever. For where there was one, that was thereby prevai⯑led upon, to abandon his former vices, there were Thouſands, who thought it enough, if they were ſo far Hypocrites, as to pleaſe his Majeſty by an out⯑ward Appearance: ſo that Hypocriſie began then to come in faſhion, and there were never ſo many Tar⯑tuffes, or Hypocritical Puritans, as began to appear at that time, among People of all Ranks, eſpecially, among the Courtiers, though one would think, that ſuch a Character, did leſs become them than any o⯑thers. For it ſeems to be peculiar to the Court, that though Diſſimulation may be Learned there, better [124] than in any other Place, yet it is a diffimulation of a quite other kind, than what I am now ſpeaking of. For when a Courtier diſſembles, he does it, that he may procure to himſelf as many Pleaſures and Con⯑veniences, as he can, and to ſhun Troubles and In⯑conveniences, and not to be his own Tormentor and Executioner, as the Hypocrites; who makes himſelf miſerable in this world as well as the next, ſo that it is an ordinary ſaying, that an Hypocrite is tho De⯑vils Martyr. Thoſe who had new Opinions to Pub⯑liſh, could not have found a time more Convenient for their Purpoſe, than this was. There was a cer⯑tain ſect which had lain hid under the Aſhes, ever ſince Molinos had Adventured to broach his wild ſen⯑timents at Rome, and it began now to appear again at Verſailles. The Archbiſhop of Cambray, who was Preceptor to the young Princes of France, and had the reputation of a very devout Man, declared him⯑ſelf zealous for this Sect: Thoſe who were of it did teach by a ſubtil kind of reaſoning, tho' to ſpeak the truth they did not avow it plainly, that the Body might do all ſorts of wickedneſs while in the mean time, the Soul might be altogether Innocent and unconcerned, as to what the Body did, for if the Intention of the Soul was directed to God and for his Glory, then it was not in the leaſt to be blamed for the ill that the Body did, which is under a ſtrange captivity to the cor⯑ruption that is in mans nature. There was one Ma⯑dame Guyon, a Lady of no great Quality, but of ſo great an Eſtate, that ſhe had Married her Daughter to the Comte de Vaul, Eldeſt Son of Monſieur Fouquet, who had already endeavoured to Propagate this abo⯑minable Doctrin, for which reaſon ſhe had been ſent to Vincennes. But the Archbiſhop, of Cambray un⯑dertaking to defend her Publickly, he Publiſhed a Book, in which by an abſtract way of Reaſoning, which no Body was capable to comprehend, he en⯑deavoured to ſhow, that this Doctrine was not in the leaſt erroneous. He alledged the Writings of St. [125] Francis de Sales to juſtifie himſelf, and pretended, that he taught nothing, but what had been formerly taught by that Holy Man. Every Body was aſto⯑niſhed at the ſight of this Book, and it had never been Printed, if the Author had been obliged to ask a licence for it. But the Biſhops have a Privilege to Publiſh what Books they Pleaſe, though their works be not Examined, by thoſe who are Authoriſed to give Licenſes for Printing Books: And this piece was publiſhed, before it was known, that he had begun to write it. All the Hypocrites were over⯑joyed, that a way was found out, for them to gratifie their ſenſual appetites, while they outward⯑ly appeared vertuous, which they thought them⯑ſelves obliged to do, leſt they ſhould loſe the Kings Favour. But they were not ſuffered long to boaſt of this Imaginary victory: For as ſoon as this Book appeared, the Archbiſhop of Paris, The Biſhops of Meaux and Chartres, with many other Prelats de⯑clared againſt it; and the Biſhop of Meaux began im⯑mediately to write a refutation of it; and beſides, he joyned with the Archbiſhop of Paris and the Biſhop of Chartres (both which had a great Intereſt at Court) to deal earneſtly with his Majeſty, that the young Princes, the Dauphins Sons, might not be kept any longer, under the Direction of a Prelat, whom they accuſed of the moſt horrible Impieties, that had ever appeared in the Church.

The King knew not well what to ſay to this, becauſe he had always looked upon the Archbiſhop of Cam⯑bray, as a Man of good Morals, and of Exempla⯑ry Piety. And it muſt be confeſſed, that there was never any Prelat appeared more zealous for Gods Glory; for he was ſo far from having ever given any bad Example, that on the Contrary, he had been very uſeful for the Edification of thoſe, who ſaw him or converſed with him. However, the Arch⯑biſhop of Paris, and thoſe other two Biſhops, gave his Majeſty no reſt, till they had obtained what they [126] deſired, and what they thought neceſſary to be done upon ſuch an occaſion, and they prevailed with him at laſt, to order the Archbiſhop of Cambray, to re⯑tire to his own Palace, till fa [...]ther orders. But before he came there, he had occaſion to Practiſe the Do⯑ctrin which he had undertaken to defend; it is com⯑monly called Quietiſm, the meaning of which is, that a Man ought never to be troubled at any thing, that can happen to him: Now the Archbiſhops Palace had taken fire, by the fault of ſome Servants whom he kept there, and it had conſumed not only all the Buildings, but alſo all the Furniture of the Houſe, which had been very richly Furniſhed. Every Body deſired to know, how he would take this accident, but he appeared ſtill as firm and unconcerned, as if he had been altogether diſ-interreſted, Mean while, many Perſons of Quality were ſuſpected of the ſame Errors, that were charged upon him, and among o⯑thers, the Duke de B [...]a [...]villiers and his Brother in Law the Duke de Chevreuſe. The firſt was Gover⯑nour to the young Princes of France, whoſe Preceptor the Archbiſhop of Cambray had been; and the thoughts of this were uneaſie to the King, till he was ſatisfyed in it by the Duke himſelf; the King diſcourſed with him a long time in his Cloſet upon this Subject, upon which he had likewiſe a long conference with the Duke de Chevreuſe; after which it appeared, that his Maieſty was undeceived, both as to the one and the other; yet their Ladies, who had al⯑ways been of the Number of thoſe, who went to Marli, did not go there to often as they had uſed to do before that time, which made ſome People believe, that the King Diſſembled a little in his Carriage to them. The Archbiſhop of Cambray wrote in his own Vindication, and pretended, that all that he had ſaid in that Book, was true and orthodox, and offe⯑red to ſubmit himſelf to the Court of Rome, while the Biſhop of Meaux accuſed him of Hereſie more than ever. The Abbee de la Trape, who had [127] ſome years before, Renounced the Quality of an Abbee that he might compleat his Penance, which he had been long under, in the Quality of a ſimple Monk, Declared himſelf alſo Mr de Cambrays Enemy, without waiting till his Holineſs ſhould Pronounce any thing concerning his Book, tho this Archbiſhop had ſent it to Rome, that he might know his thoughts of it. The Abbee wrote two Let⯑ters upon this Subject, which the Biſhop of Meaux cauſed to be Publiſhed, in the beginning of his own Book; he thought by this to ſtrengthen his cauſe, and that ſince he had to do with an Archbiſhop, who was a Man of Learning and had many Friends, he ought not to neglect any thing, that could in the leaſt ſupport him in it. He alſo ſent his Nephew Monſieur l' Abbee Boſſuet to Rome, that he might there employ all his Intereſt to have the Archbiſhop condemned; at which, many good People were of⯑fended, for they thought, that when a Man acted only through Zeal, it was not fit to create him ſo much trouble. Madame Guyon, who by the Intereſt her Friends had made for her, was ſet at Liberty, fell into another Enthuſiaſtick Fit, in favour of this Sect. ſhe propagated it every where, and infected the Houſe of St. Cir with it, ſo that it was found neceſſary, to put ſome of the Nuns of that Houſe, into other Con⯑vents. In a Word, the King took all the Meaſures, that Prudence could ſuggeſt to him, to cruſh theſe Errors, before they ſhould do any harm to the Church. While he was at ſo much pains to pre⯑vent the ill Conſequences of this Debate, there were other debates broke out, in the Churches of Rheims and Roan. The Archbiſhop of this laſt City, had made a Liſt of ſome Books, which he had recom⯑mended to thoſe of his Dioceſe, to be made uſe of, for reſolving caſes of Conſcience; but had not mentioned any of thoſe Books, which the Jeſuits think fitteſt for that purpoſe: theſe good Fathers took this ſo ill, that ſome of them appeared in Print againſt him: the Arch⯑biſhop [128] accuſed one of their Number as the Author, he pretended to know his Stile, and demanded of the ſociety of Jeſuits, that they would do him Juſtice in puniſhing this Author. The Fathers denied that he was the Man, and he denied it himſelf; and they ſent him to Paris, that he might withdraw himſelf from the Effects of the Archbiſhops anger, who was doing all the miſchief he could againſt him, as well as againſt all the reſt of that Society. He made an exact ſearch after the Printer of the Pamphlet, that had been Publiſhed againſt him, and having kept ſome of them in Priſon for ſome time, the whole buſineſs vaniſhed into ſmoke for want of evidences. The Schiſm that broke out in the Church of Rheims, was alſo Occaſioned by a debate between the Archbiſhop and the Jeſuits. Theſe had publickly maintained in the Schools of the Colledge which they have in that City, two things that the Biſhop was not Pleaſed with. The firſt was, That the Doctrine which Moli⯑na taught, concerning Grace, had been virtuous in all the attacks, that its Enemies had made againſt it The Archbiſhop of Rheims, who is no Moliniſt, cenſured theſe Theſes, as full of Falſhoods, and publiſhed an Edict, declaring that they did not contain the true Doctrine of the Church: he therein alſo cenſured ſome other Paſſages, which they had cited in another Theſis, and this Edict being conceived in Terms, that they were very much diſſatisfied with, they did much the ſame, that thoſe of Roan had done. They wrote againſt it, and expoſed it. So that the Archbiſhop, to oblige them to do him Ju⯑ſtice, was adviſed, to cauſe the Provincial and the Three Rectors of their Houſes at Paris, to be cited, that they might declare, if this Pamphlet, which had been Printed in that City had been done by their Order, or without their order. The Author had been more circumſpect than to put his Name to it, [129] and the Bookſeller and Printer had concealed their Names: But the Author had ſaid enough, to let the World know, that he had compoſed it, by Or⯑der of his Superiours; and it was upon that ac⯑count, that the Archbiſhop would oblige the Pro⯑vincial and the Three Rectors, to make their De⯑claration. After they had met in a Chapter, up⯑on this Buſineſs, they were ſo fooliſh, as to de⯑clare, that the Pamphlet contained nothing, but what was conſonant to Truth; and what they were ready to defend, So that having made this Confeſſion, the Archbiſhop of Rheims, gave in his Addreſs to the Parliament, deſiring, that Judgment might paſs againſt them, and that they might be obliged to make a publick Reparation of the Injury they had done him, in publiſhing ſo ſcandalous things againſt him. In this Addreſs he ſaid, that if they preten⯑ded, as it ſeem'd they did, that they had been inju⯑red by his Edict; then the Laws and Cuſtoms of the Church taught them, that there were but Two ways, by which they could have Redreſs. The one was, to have made it known to himſelf, by repre⯑ſenting to him, wherein he had injured them: But if they thought, that he would be too partial in his own Cauſe, and would not retract what he had once done, how unjuſt ſoever it might be to them; then the other way was, to have addreſſed themſelves to the Primate. He repreſents alſo, that it was not becoming private Men, to expoſe the Conduct of an Archbiſhop, by ſeditious Pamphlets. That ſuch a thing might be of dangerous Conſequence, beſides, that it was a Breach of Charity. The thing which had given occaſion to all this, was capable to have revived the great Diſpute concerning Grace, which had made ſo much noiſe in the beginning of this Age, and therefore the King thought it ne⯑ceſſary to put a ſtop to this Law-Suit, and told Fa⯑ther de la Chaiſe, that it was his Royal Pleaſure, that the Society of Jeſuites, ſhould give Satisfaction [130] to the Archbiſhop of Rheims; and having called the Chief Preſident of the Parliament to Verſailles, that he might give him ſuch Orders, as he judged ne⯑ceſſary about this Affair. He took up I know not how much time, in diſcourſing with him of the beſt Methods, for putting an end to it. The Jeſuites, who had made a fooliſh Step, in juſtifying every thing that was in the Pamphlet, were very glad, that the King had fallen upon a way, how they might evite the Shame and Diſgrace, which would have infallibly come upon them, if the Parliament had proceeded to pronounce a Sentence. They went to the Chief Preſident, and told him, they were ready to obey the King's Orders; the Preſident told them, he was glad, they were come to a Reſolu⯑tion, that was ſo much for their Intereſt, as well as reaſonable in it ſelf. He concerted the whole matter with them, that they ſhould draw up a Writing, by which they ſhould acknowledge, that they had taken wrong meaſures, in not addreſſing to the Archbiſhop himſelf, as they ought to have done; that he might have been pleaſed to have heard them in their own Vindication; and promi⯑ſing that they ſhould take that method for the fu⯑ture, if ever they ſhould be ſo unfortunate, as to have occaſion to complain of him. And that in this Writing, they ſhould intreat the Archbiſhop to par⯑don what was paſt, and to receive them and their Society again into his favour. The Preſident com⯑municated this Writing to the King, before it was ſigned, that he might know how his Majeſty was ſatisfied with it. The Archbiſhop could not demand any more, ſo that he was content to put an end to the Debate, provided they ſhould ſign that Pa⯑per. Perhaps they would not haye done it, if the King had not interpoſed his Authority, but the good learned Fathers, knew better than others did, that Scripture commands us expreſly to obey ſupe⯑riour Powers; and therefore it was no hard matter [131] to perſwade them to do what the Archbiſhop had de⯑manded of them.

About the ſame time that the Archbiſhop of Cam⯑bray's Opinions (of which I have already given ſome Account) made ſo much Noiſe, the Princeſs d' Har⯑court, was obliged to go to Normandy, where her Husband's Eſtate lies, to look after his private Affairs: She had been long at Court, and had always found a way to preſerve her Intereſt in it, in all the Changes that fell out; though there were many others that were fully of as good ſenſe as ſhe, who were not able to do ſo much. So ſoon as ſhe was gone from it, it was reported, that it was partly upon her account, that the Archbiſhop had been caſt out of favour. And many were of opinion, that ſhe was a Quietiſt, and ſo much the rather, becauſe ſhe retired ſo often, ſometimes into one Convent, ſometimes into another. But a Lady, who thought ſhe knew her bet⯑ter than others did, ſaid to thoſe who were ſpeaking of her, that they were miſtaken as to that Princeſs, and that ſhe was not for creating trouble to herſelf, by an indiſcreet Zeal; and that ſhe could be Surety for her, that till the King, as well as his Miniſters be⯑came Quietiſts, ſhe ſhould not be one: But if they ſhould declare them [...]elves once in favour of that Par⯑ty, ſhe would not then promiſe for her; for never Lady was more inclined than ſhe, to perform exactly what was enjoined by St. Peter, to obey every Ordi⯑nance of Man, whether the King as ſupreme, or thoſe who are in Authority under him. Thoſe who were concerned in this Lady, and had been under ſome fears, that the Reports of her being Quietiſt might be true, were well ſatisfied with this Account of her. Soon after, ſhe returned from Normandy, and was not behind with any Lady at Court, in exclaiming a⯑gainſt Quietiſm; and ſpoke upon all occaſions, of no leſs than Fire and Faggot, for thoſe of that Per⯑ſwaſion.

[132] About this time, the Chief Preſident's Son, was made a Counſellor of State, in the Place of Monſieur Puſſort, who at laſt had paid that Tribute, which all men owe to Nature, after he had been Two or Three Years, without being able to go to the Counſel, of which he was Dean. He was Uncle to the late Mon⯑ſieur Colbert, Miniſter and Secretary of State, and he was as his Right-hand to him, when he was con⯑triving ways and means for enriching the King, at his Subject-Coſt. For he had laid down ſome Ma⯑xims of his own, by which he determined always in favour of the Exchequer. And it was never ſeen, that he had been ſo much as in one ſingle Inſtance, prevailed with, even by the ſtrongeſt Arguments, to determine otherwiſe. So that in the Council, he got the Name of Puſſort the Fiſcal. And when any man was ſo unhappy, as to have a Law-ſuit with the King, he had reaſon to give over his Cauſe for loſt, if it de⯑pended upon his Vote. But at laſt, when he found himſelf at the point of Death, he began to reflect, that he muſt give an account of all theſe things; the Thoughts of them, put him under great fears. His Confeſſor endeavoured to encourage him, by repre⯑ſenting to him the Mercies of God, who pardons all the Sins a man has been guilty of, ſo ſoon as he comes to repent of them. The Archbiſhop of Roan, who was his Grand Nephew, and to whom he had left ſome part of his Eſtate, as he did to all theſe, who were within the ſame degrees of Kindred to him; nay, and to the Marquis de Seignelai's Children too, tho' they were farther removed than the reſt. I ſay, the Archbiſhop ſpoke much to the ſame purpoſe to him, that the Confeſſor had done. But the poor man was ſtill afraid, that he did it only as thinking thereby to comply with his Humour. And he was the more confirmed in this, when he obſerved, that the Arch⯑biſhop, when he had gone into the Withdrawing⯑room, to bring the Viaticum, chided the Parſon of St. Roche, that he had not cauſed him to be put in [133] his Bed, inſtead of exciting him, who was a dying man, to pay that Reſpect and Veneration to that God, in whoſe preſence he then was. However, in a ſhort time, he was called to give an account of all his Actions, before God's Tribunal; and his Heirs had 500000 Crowns of Eſtate, which he left them to divide among themſelves. And there was not ſo much as one of them, had any uſe for his Houſe to dwell in; and therefore they ſold it to Monſieur Bertin, Treaſurer of the caſual Revenues, who is a man of the greateſt Curioſity of any in Paris, in the matter of Houſhold Furniture. And as thoſe at Court entertain the King, with accounts of every thing that falls out, ſo it was told his Ma⯑jeſty, that Mr. Bertin had bought the Houſe, and that when he came to dwell in it, it would look quite another thing, than it did while Mr. Puſſort was alive. They told him alſo, that he had the fineſt Carpets in the World, better than any that were in his Majeſties Palace. The King had the Curioſity to go and ſee them, and he ask'd him, how much they had coſt him, and where he had bought them. He anſwered, that he had paid 200 Crowns for the Piece of them, at the Auction of the Marquis de Segnelai's Furniture. The King ſaid be⯑fore all the Court, that that Miniſter had always dealt ſo by him, ſo that when any fine thing, was brought from the Indies, he gave him the Re⯑fuſe, and took all the beſt to himſelf. And he added, that he had never known a more vain⯑glorious man, than that Marquis; or one that was ſo conceited of his own Perſonage, that his Vanity had made him oftimes fail in point of good Breed⯑ing, and in the Reſpect he ow'd him; for without conſidering that he was ſpeaking to his King, he would have ask'd him ſometimes, if he did not think he was well dreſs'd, and if he had not a good Air. Mr. Bertin finding that the King had a deſire for the Carpets, intreated his Majeſty to accept of them [134] from him; the King took them, but would not have them in a Gift; but cauſed him to be paid the Money that he had given for them. There were Three Ladies who had been Friends of Mr. Puſſort, that expected, he would have conſidered them in his Will: And for that end, had complied for ſe⯑veral Years, with all his Humours; they had e⯑very Night entertained him with Diverſions ſuitable to his own Fancy, and he had never given them ſo much as a Cup of Water for a reward, except Two Meals that he gave them a Year. The one of them was Marchioneſs de Merce, who was his Wife's Niece, and the other Two Perſons, I ſhall not name; but they had fully as great a Deſire to have their ſhares of his Money, as ſhe had. But they were quite fruſtrated in their Hopes, as well as ſhe. There were a great many who made In⯑tereſt for his Place of Counſellor of State, as well as for his other Place of Counſellor of the Council of the Royal Revenues, by which he had 18000 Li⯑vers of Sallary: But the King gave this laſt to Mon⯑ſieur de Pommere [...], and the other to the Chief Pre⯑ſident's Son, as I have already ſaid. He had been Attorney General before; but becauſe he had made no great Figure in that Poſt, his Father addreſſed to the King, that he would be pleaſed to beſtow this upon him, and frankly told his Majeſty, that his reaſon was, becauſe his Son was not ſufficiently qualified for being Attorney General; that when he purchaſed that Office for him, he believed that he had been capable of diſcharging it; but he found, he had been in a miſtake, and that therefore he would be glad to have him eaſed of the Honour of that Bur⯑then, which he was not capable to bear. This was thought an odd ſort of a Compliment, from ſuch a man as the Chief Preſident of the Parliament: And thoſe who heard of it, ask'd one another, if it was neceſſary, that a man, that was of the Par⯑liament, ſhould be of greater Parts, than he who [135] is of the Council, where the niceſt Affairs of the Kingdom are treated of. For it could not be ſaid, that it was the want of Memory, or the Art of ſpeaking in publick, that made him incapable of the Office of Attorney General; for while Mon⯑ſieur Talon had been in that Poſt, he had ſhown a way how to ſupply thoſe defects; he had always read his Pleadings, and as it was no ſhame to i⯑mitate a man, who as all France confeſſed, had ac⯑quitted himſelf honourably in that Office, therefore they concluded, that certainly his Father knew of ſomething elſe, that made him incapable of it. However the Father's Merits ſupplied all the Son's Imperfections; inſomuch that the King, not only granted his Requeſt, but another favour alſo, which he had not ask'd. For he allow'd him to ſell the Office of Attorney General to the beſt Advantage. Upon which, there were a great many offered for it, who were as incapable of it, as the Preſident's Son was; and who had much more Money than Merit. They conſidered alſo, that as the Incapa⯑city of his Son, had been the Cauſe of his being promoted to be a Counſellor of State; ſo they might at laſt come to ſome Promotion for the ſame reaſon. Among the reſt, there was a Maſter of Requeſts, who was the Son of another Maſter of Requeſts, and he concluded, that this was the on⯑ly way, how he could raiſe himſelf, to the greateſt Offices of the Council. And therefore he offered Money for it, as others did, and believed, that he ought to have been prefer'd to them, becauſe he excell'd them in the Art of pronouncing ill, and ſtuttering in his Speech; and had lately married a young Girl, which had made him be much con⯑ſidered. But the Chief Preſident, made an ill ſtep in Politicks; for whereas he ought to have choſen one of the meaneſt Qualifications, that he might thereby let the World ſee, that his Son was not the only Perſon, that was incapable of that Em⯑ Employment: [136] The Man he bargained with was Monſieur Joli de Fleuri whoſe Father had been Coun⯑ſellor of the Great Chamber. He got Four Hundred Thouſand Franks for it, which was more by 50000 Franks, than is uſually given for ſuch an office. Then People began to ſay of this New Attorney General, that it ſeemed he had no mind to be Raiſed to the Office of a Counſellor of State, in that way that the Preſidents Son had been Raiſed to it. For ſo ſoon as he was Inſtal'd in his Office, he made it appear, by his Eloquence and his great Capacity, that he was far above the Ordinary ſort of Attorneys.

While theſe things were a doing among the Law⯑yers, the Duke de Lauſun, who has been ſo toſſed by Fortune, ever ſince he firſt appeared upon the ſtage of the World, was very diligent in a Law ſuit he had againſt his Ladies family. When he was near Sixty Years of Age, he had Married a Daughter of the Mareſhal de Lorges, who was not above Sixteen. In which he Play'd the Fool as much as when he put in for the Command of the Army in Ireland. For it's Equal⯑ly ridiculous, for a Man of Sixty to Marry a Girl of Sixteen, and for one that has never had any Com⯑mand but over his own Domeſticks or Day Lobourers, to Command an Army. Yet as good ſenſe would qualifie him for the one much more than for the o⯑ther, ſo he managed his Wife in ſuch a way, that he never became one of thoſe Husbands, whoſe wives make them to be Pointed at in the ſtreets; he gave her as many fine Cloaths as ſhe Pleaſed, and as much Money as was Needful for her diverſions. But it was upon Condition, that ſhe ſhould not keep Com⯑pany, but with ſome old Dotards, of whom he was not much affraid. For as to the young Sparks a⯑bout the Court, ſhe was diſcharged in any terms to ſee them, or to admit of any viſits from them; For by his own Experience he knew the Frailty of young Ladies. All theſe Precautions were the more juſti⯑ficable, becauſe if it was in his Power to Secure this [137] young Lady for himſelf alone, ſhe was well worth all the Pains he would be at in doing it. And he left nothing undone, that was Neceſſary for that End. The Governeſs, whom he appointed to wait upon her, was well Advanced in years; ſhe had once been with Madame de Guiſe, and he truſted much to her Virtue, ſhe was as ſeldom from her as was poſſible for her to be, and it was a rare thing to ſee this young Lady without her Guardian. She had great ad⯑vantages ſecured to her by her Marriage Contract, without which the Mareſhal de Lorges would not have given her in Marriage to him. But the Mare⯑ſhal and his Lady had not given him any portion with her, yet Fremout, who had ammaſſed many Milli⯑ons of Money, by farming the Kings Revenues, which had been his Imployment almoſt fifty year, ſupplied the want of a Portion, for in the Marriage Contract he had Engaged to Leave them a Hundred Thou⯑ſand Crowns, after his Death, and when he died ſometime after, the Duke de Lauſune was ſurpriſed, that his Son Mr. D'Onneuil and the Mareſhalls Lady who was his Daughter, had renounced all Intereſt in the Eſtate, and had brought from Languedoc, a Little Girl of Eleven Years of Age, who called her⯑ſelf his Relation, and Pleaded ſhe ſhould be his heir⯑eſs by the benefit of his Inventory. His Widow had alſo Renounced, yet before ſhe did it, ſhe had Con⯑curred with his Children, to put the beſt and moſt Valuable things out of the way. Upon this the Duke found himſelf under a Neceſſity, either to Content himſelf with any Effects that he found ſtill Remaining of the Inheritance, or to Enter into a Law Suit, a⯑gainſt the Widow and her Son. For as to his Father in Law and Mother in Law, he could not ask anything of them; For they had not ſigned the Grant which his Ladies Grandfather had made, in Proſpect of the Marriage. Beſides that, they adhered to that Grant, which he had made to themſelves, when they were Married together, ſo that he had not any Reaſon [138] Imaginable, to ſue them at Law. But he ſu'd the Mother and the Son, and pretended that they had ſecret Conveyed out of the way, the Effects of the Eſtate, and, that they ought to be Ordered to pay him an Hundred Thouſand Crowns, in Ready Money, without putting him to the pairs of ſeeking for Payment, out of ſuch Remains of the Eſtate, as did ſtill appear. But this was not all he Craved of them, For beſides this 100000 Crowns, for which, Fremon had payed Intereſt ſo long as he Lived as of a thing that was already acquired, he had pro⯑miſed them, a Hundred Thouſand Franks, out of the whole Eſtate; but his Widdow and her Son had ad⯑juſted matters ſo, that all that was Remaining of the Eſtate, after the Debts were Payed, was but at moſt 100000 Crowns; ſo that they Deſigned to have fru⯑ſtrated the Duke of 100000 Franks, beſides that they would have left him in hazard, of being called to an Account, by the King and his Miniſters, as or⯑dinarly all thoſe are, who Marry the Daughters or Grand Daughters of Farmers of his Majeſties Reve⯑nues. Unleſs the Marriage Portion has been Payed in Ready Money. The Duke de Lauſun who had no great Skill to Diſpute his Ground in Ireland, choſe rather to quit it in time, than to Expoſe himſelf to the dangers that Threatned him; if he had Stayed to Diſpute it with Sword in hand; thought, he could better underſtand the Debates of the Pallais; and tho' he had no more Served an Apprentiſhip in this, than he had done, in the war yet he Armed himſelf with a ſtrong Reſolution to plead to the utmoſt; rather than Do, what Monſieur d'Onneuil would have obli⯑ged him to. The caſe was Brought before the Reque⯑tes du Palais becauſe of the Quality of the Parties who had the Right of Committimus, for Mr D'Omneuil, was Maſter of Requeſts, beſides that the Duke was not obliged to appear before any other Court of that kind, unleſs he had Pleaſed to do it. He was enra⯑ged above what can be Expreſſed, at the Methods [139] that were taken by Madame de Fremont and Mr. D'Onneuil in which they had engaged the Mareſhal de Lorges and his Lady, and therefore he enjoyned the Dutcheſs, that ſhe ſhould not ſee either of them: this did very much trouble this Lady as well as her Mother the Mareſhals Lady, who Loved her Daugh⯑ter tenderly, but the Duke told his own Lady, That when he Enjoyned her this, It was not ſo much for ſatisfying his own reſentment of the Injuries they had done him, as becauſe her Intereſt was Concern'd in the debate. For he could not expect to Live Long, and after his Death, ſhe could not expect any thing of his Eſtate, but what was provided to her, by the Marriage Contract, and therefore, It was Neceſſary, he ſhould uſe all ſorts of Means, for Preſerving to her, what ſhe ought to have from him. That if ſhe had nothing, but what they now offered her, the Effects they would give her, would be liable to a Chamber of Juſtice, whenever it ſhould pleaſe the King to erect one, and that they might even make him pay a Tax, by the firſt Order of Council that ſhould be given in that matter. And that therefore, ſhe ought to make her Mother ſenſible, that there wa [...] not any hopes of a Reconciliation with her, unleſs ſhe ſhould oblige her Brother and Madame de Fremont to do him Juſtice. Theſe words made a great Impreſſion upon the Dutcheſs mind, and as it is Natural for very Body to deſire Riches, even to the Prejudice of a near friend, ſo ſhe obſerved her Husband [...] Commands ſo Exactly, that ſhe refuſed to be preſent at the Ce⯑remony, when one of her Siſters was to put on the Nuns habit, and to Enter into a Convent at Conflaus, till her Husband told her, that he was ſatisfyed, ſhe ſhould go thither.

About this time Monſieur de Phelypeaux, the only Son of Monſieur de Pontehartrain Miniſter and Secre⯑tary of State Married his Lady. Who was a Daugh⯑ter of a Siſter of his Fathers, who had been Married to the Counte de Roye of the Family of Rochefocant. [140] He had gone to pay her a Viſit, and the Marriage was Concluded, within three Days after. The Bride had but 24000 Livers of Portion, and the King gave her 6000 Livers of Penſion, of which ſhe had 4000 before, which the King had granted her, when ſhe Embra⯑ced the Roman Communion. For her Father had Dyed a Proteſtant in England, where he rather choſe to End his Days, out of his Countrey, and deprived of the Honours which he might have Expected, upon Account of his Birth and Merits, than to Renounce his Religion. The Counteſs de Roye was alſo in that Kingdom, and had Carried thither three of her Chil⯑dren, that ſhe might Educate them in their Fathers Religion; while the Reſt of them, which were many, choſe Rather to Embrace the Roman Religion. this Lady whom Mr. Phelypeaux Married, was in a Convent at Soiſſons, when her Marrige was Concluded, And her Relations having ſent a Coach for her, and having appointed Changes of freſh Horſes by the way, that ſhe might come in all haſt, ſhe came to the Counteſs de Roucy Lodgings, who was her Eldeſt Brothers Lady; Monſieur de Phelypeaux pay'd her a viſit there that very day, and he returned upon the morrow, and dined with her. The Chevalier de Roye, who was this young Ladies Brother, was at dinner with them, and finding that Monſieur de Phylipeaux had cauſed a great many pieces of Clothe of Gold and Silver to be brought to him, that he might chuſe what Pleaſed him beſt, he ſaid to the Counteſs de Rocy that if ſhe did well, ſhe would take him off a Veſt of one of the pieces, of that was ſold for 20 Louis D'Ors the Ell. Madame de Roucy was not over haſty in doing it, and the young Bride, having Choſen what Pleaſed her beſt, The Mercer went home, before the Chevalier de Roye had his de⯑ſire. But after he was gone the Chevalier fell a Jeſting with Madame de Roucy and ſaid it was a mean thing in her to have let the Mercer go away, with the Brocado ſtufs, before ſhe had done what he deſired of [141] her, that it was the leaſt ſhe could have done for the Honour of her Siſters marriage. Monſieur de Pheli⯑peaux ſeemed not to take any Notice of what he ſaid, but ſo ſoon as he was gone home, he ſent Orders to that Mercer, that the next morning he ſhould wait upon the Chevalier de Roy, by the time he had got up, with that piece of Stuff, and that he ſhould let him have as much of it as he deſired, the Mer⯑cer obeyed his Orders, and made his Compliments to the Chevalier, and told him the Commiſſion he had got. The Chevalier finding he might take what he pleaſed of the whole Piece, took not only as much as would be a Veſt, but as much more, as would line him a Coat. The Marriage was ſolemnized with⯑in two Days after, and the King gave only 50000 Crowns to Monſieur de Phelypeaux, though he uſed to make a Preſent of 200000 Franks, to the Son of one of his Miniſters of State, upon Occaſion of his Marriage. But he told Monſieur Pontchartrain, that he was not ſo liberal as he uſed to be, and that the then Juncture of Affairs was the Cauſe of it. For the War forced him againſt his Will, to be a good Husband of his Money, but that the preſent Loſs ſhould be made up to them another time. Monſieur Pontchartrain was a man of too great ſenſe, not to take this Compliment as he ought to do. And be⯑ing very glad to have a Daughter in Law of ſo good Quality, he had the Satisfaction to hear every bo⯑dy approve of the choice he had made for his Son. He certainly quite outdid all that the former Mini⯑ſters of State had done, for raiſing their Families, and thoſe of whom his Daughter in law was deſcen⯑ded, were far more illuſtrious, than the Families of the Souvrees, or the Alegres, or the Matignons, with whom Tellier, and the Colberts had marched, and the Family of Cruſſol of which the Marquis de Barbeſieux's firſt Lady was a Daughter, was far ſhort of them, though it was honoured with the Title of Duke and Peer of France. Next morning after this marriage, [142] there was 500 Loüis d'Ors, put under the young mar⯑ried Lady's Toilette. Which was but a ſmall Sum for a Lady of her Quality, there being ordinarily a greater Preſent made, to a Partizans Daughter. But the Evening before, ſhe had got a Preſent of a little Box, with a great many fine Toys in it, and ſhe found in the Bottom of it, a little Box full of Ear rings and Jewels.

Every Body went and paid Viſits to the new mar⯑ried Couple, and the Dutcheſs de Lauſun, having gone to pay her Compliments, ſhe ſaw her Mothers Lacqueys in the Antichamber, by which ſhe knew, that ſhe was there. And being unwilling to be found in Company with her, leaſt ſhe ſhould oſtend her Husband, ſhe went out of the Room, deſigning to go home, though ſhe had already cauſed notice to be given, that ſhe was there. This was told to Ma⯑dame de Phelypeaux, and to Madame de Pontchartrain, who was then in company with her, and who ſent to call back the Dutcheſs, and went and ſpoke to her, and brought her into a Cloſet, and put her in company with her Mother. The Dutcheſs was once in hopes to have been married to Monſieur Phelypeaux and his Mother Madame de Pontchartrain would have been extremely glad, that ſhe had been her Daugh⯑ter in Law: But the Duke de Lauſun, making his Addreſſes to her at the ſame time; the Mareſhal de Lorges, who knew that the Duke was worth 100000 Livers a Year, loved rather to ſee his Daughter a Dutcheſs, than Daughter in Law to a Mi⯑niſter of State. This had made ſome Miſunderſtandings for ſome time, between Madame de Pontchartrain, and the Mareſhal's Lady, but they were reconciled by this Marriage, and ſhe was the firſt that told the Dutcheſs, that ſhe ought to live in a better Corre⯑ſpondence than ſhe did with her Mother. The Ma⯑reſhal's Lady told her the ſame, and charged her with Ingratitude, ſince ſhe knew well enough, how ten⯑derly ſhe [...]ad always loved her. The Dutcheſs told [143] her, that if ſhe pleaſed, ſhe might eaſily remove the Cauſe, which ſhe had to complain of her. That ſhe wiſhed for nothing more, than to ſee her frequent⯑ly, and to live in good Terms with her, and that it was very unpleaſant to her, to be deprived of that Happineſs. But ſhe was obliged to obey her Hus⯑band, and it was in her Mothers Power, to cauſe Ju⯑ſtice to be done him, and then all difficulties would be removed, that beſides, if ſhe loved her, as much as ſhe ſaid ſhe did, ſhe would cauſe ready money to to be paid to the Duke and her, that what they got might be exempted from thoſe after Enquiries, to which the Eſtates of Farmers of the Kings Revenues are lyable. The Mareſhal's Lady having no Incli⯑nation to do any ſuch thing, or perhaps being afraid that the doing it, might diſcover all the Effects, which had been conveyed out of the way, that her Mother, Brother and herſelf, might be ſecured from ſuch an Enquiry, anſwered her, that ſhe demanded what was impoſſible for her to grant: That ſhe could not expect more than what ſhe could have out of her Grandfathers Eſtate, and that to ask more, was a Proof, that ſhe conſidered her own Intereſt, rather than what was reaſonable. The Dutcheſs replied, that notwithſtanding all ſhe ſaid, yet the Duke her Husband believed, that he did not demand any thing, but what was reaſonable, but ſince ſhe and her Friends were all of another Opinion, and he was poſitive in his Reſolutions, it was not likely they would ſoon agree, that for herſelf, ſhe was extremely vexed at it, becauſe ſhe found herſelf deprived of all that ſweet Converſe, ſhe might have with her Parents, without any hopes of a Recon⯑ciliation, becauſe ſhe knew her Husband to be of ſuch an humour, that it was almoſt impoſſible to diſſuade him from any thing that he had reſolved upon. And he was certainly as headſtrong, as a She-Mule, when he had got any thing once in his Head, and inſtead of being ſoftned, by the Account the Du⯑cheſs [144] gave him of her Mothers Grief, becauſe ſhe and they were not good Friends, he was more in⯑cenſed againſt them, than before. And he not only proſecuted his Law-ſuit, but petitioned the Coun⯑cil, that he might be allowed to bring it before other Judges, pretending that he having accuſed Madame de Fremont and her Son, for having intermeddled with the Eſtate of the deceaſed, they ought to plead their Cauſe before the Court of Aides, and not before the Requetes du Palais, by which we may perceive, that while he endeavoured to ſecure himſelf, againſt an Enquiry, he endeavoured to expoſe his Lady's Grand mother and her Uncle to one. This enraged them more than ever againſt him, eſpecially becauſe it was their Intereſt, that the World ſhould not know, that Monſi [...]ur Fremont was ſo rich, as he truly was when he died. For it is a Crime for thoſe who farm the Revenues, to die ſo rich, and their Heirs are ordi⯑narily called to account for it. They had a Thou⯑ſand Inſtances of this in other People, and though they had not had any, yet they had lately had an In [...]ance that concerned them nearly, and which no doubt, put them under great Apprehenſions.

One who had been a Deputy or Clerk to Mr. Fre⯑mont, was diſſatisfied with him, perhaps becauſe he had n [...]t conſidered him in his Will, or it may be, becauſe he had not made any great Fortune, while he was in his Service. However, he came to Monſr. Pentchartrain, and informed him, that he knew a certain place, where his deceaſed Maſter had hid 4000000 [...] of Money, that he himſelf had aſſiſted in putting it there; ſo that he ſpoke nothing, but what he knew to be certainly true. He was ſo po⯑ſitive in what he had ſaid, that it was impoſſible for [...]. Pentchartrain [...] o [...] to believe him; and there⯑fore, he ſent Orders to the Intendant at Roan, to go to the place, where this Deputy had told him the Money was hid, which was in a Cellar of a Caſtle, which Fremont had bought in Normandy. This De⯑p [...] went [...]nither alſo, by order of the ſame Mi⯑niſter, [145] that he might point out the very Place, where it was hid. But when the Intendant had gone thither, and made as exact a Search, as was poſſible for him, there was nothing found. The Deputy thought to have excuſed himſelf, by ſaying it had been taken away, ſince the time that he had put it there: But as no Man ſhould think to deal thus by a Miniſter of State; for they would be every day impoſed upon, if thoſe who offered to do it, were not puniſhed for it: He was ſent to Priſon, and no doubt he deſerved it, though he had not been guilty of any thing but of deſigning to ruin the Family of that Man, by whom he had acquired all the Eſtate he had; however the Duke de Lauſ [...]n, pretending that if it was not in that place; that Madame de Fremont and her Son, had hid her Husband's and his Father's Treaſures; yet as he pleaded before the Council, the Caſe ought to be referred to the Court of Aides; and his rea⯑ſons were, that it belonged to that Court, to take Cogniſance of the Eſtates of Farmers of the King's Revenues, wherein the King himſelf was concerned directly or indirectly. That in the Caſe between Madame Fremont, Mr. Onneuil and him, the King's Intereſt was manifeſtly [...]oncerned, ſeeing the Que⯑ſtion was, if they had concealed the Effects, that had belonged to a man imployed in the King's Revenues. There was ſcarce any Perſon of Note or Intereſt, whether at Court, or in the City, but ſolicited the one or for the other Party: And though the Mareſhal de Lorges and his Lady, ſeem⯑ed not to concern themſelves in the Buſineſs, in which it was thought, that if they would declare themſelves, it would be in favour of their Son in law and their Daughter, rather than for Madame de Fremont, and her Son; yet they ſolicited under-hand for theſe. They conſidered, that beſides that the Me⯑mory of the deceaſed ought to be dear unto them, not only becauſe he was the Father of the Mareſhal's [146] Lady, but becauſe he had been a great Benefactor to them, both before and after their Marriage. They ought therefore, to do all that was in their Power, for ſaving his Eſtate from being ſeized. They thought it was very likely, that though the Stroak could not fall upon themſelves, becauſe of the Precautions they had taken, both in their Marriage Contract, and in the Gifts they had afterwards received, yet it might fall upon their Daughter, who inſtead of having the 100000 Crowns, that Madame de Frem [...]nt and Mr. d'Onneuil were willing to pay her, ſhe might be in hazard of loſing the whole of it.

Theſe Solicitations and under-hand Dealings, how cloſe ſoever they were kept, yet came to the Duke's Ears, and enraged him to a greater degree, againſt his Father in law and Mother in law; ſo that it was ob⯑ſerved of him, that he took as much pains, to ob⯑tain what he had deſired of the Council, as he did Four or Five Years ago, to ſhun the Weight of King William of England's Arm. But all the pains he took, turned at laſt to his Confuſion, for he was caſt before the Council, and the only thing that the Chancellor ſaid to him that could pleaſe him, becauſe of the Hatred he bore to his Ladie's Grandmother and Uncle, was, that when ſuch People as the deceaſed had been, did marry their Daughters or Grandaughters to Per⯑ſons of Quality, it was the firſt Step they made, to reſtore to the Publick, what they had robb'd it of, but by the good leave of that Magiſtrate, I do not think, that the Name of Reſtitution, agrees well to ſuch an Action as that. For to reſtore a thing, is to give it back, after it has been taken, and to give it back to the rightful Owner too; but for a Man to loaden his Children or Grandchildren with Money, and by great Wealth to purchaſe to them a Blood that cannot mix with theirs, without ſome ſort of Shame, and then to call this Reſtitution, was an odd way of ſpeaking; and it is the firſt time I ever heard it call'd ſo. The Duke de Lau [...]un, [147] being caſt by the Council, and the Caſe remitted back to the Requêtes du Palais, their Friends offer'd to mediate for an Agreement between them. They per⯑ſwaded the Duke, as well as Madame de Fremont and her Son, to ſubmit the Cauſe, to the Arbitration of Two Counſellors of State; and having choſen Monſieur de la Reine, and Monſieur de Ribe [...]re, they told the Duke, that theſe Two Magiſtrates, being great Lovers of Juſtice, would give him as much ſatisfaction, as the Requêtes du Palais would do, provided he had a juſt Cauſe. But having got private Intelligence, that he could not expect great ſatisfaction from theſe Two Counſellors of State, and that they had ſaid, that they did not think, that the Widow or Children of a Donor, could be obliged to pay ready money, when the Deceaſed had not left any, he became ſo ſuſpicious of them, that he recalled a Blank he had ſigned, with an Obligation to acknowledge them for Judges. And would proſecute the Matter in all the Forms, before the Requetes du Palais, who laugh'd at his Pretenſions, and a merced him in the Expences of the Suit.

If Fre [...]ont's pretended hidden Treaſure mde [...] a great noiſe, and made many People ſay, that there was never a Par [...]iſan, i. e. one that Farms the King's Revenues ſaved, ſince he, who had robb'd the Peo⯑ple of ſo much money by his Extortions; had not been at pains to reſtore any part of what he had robbed; yet there was one of them, that gave ſome grounds to think, that there are ſome People of that Employment, who ſometimes think of their own Salvation. But I do not know, if it be enough for a man to think upon it, only as he did; for I think if a man be as much concerned in it, as he ought to be, he muſt join Effects and Deeds to his Thoughts, whatever may be the Reſult of them. However, this Buſineſs made as great noiſe, as the pretended hidden Treaſure did, of which I gave juſt now an Ac⯑count. One of theſe Farmers of the Revenues, (whoſe [148] Name I have forgot) died, and left Two Children, behind him, who did not live in great Friendſhip to⯑gether; which happens often betwixt Brothers. The Father had in his Will conſidered the one, much more than the other; with which this laſt was very ill plea⯑ſed, and reſolved to make his Brother uneaſie, and threatned to tell Mr. Fonchartrain, of their deceaſed Father's Management; unleſs he would let him have an equal ſhare in the Eſtate. I know not if he was ſuch a Fool to do what he threatned, or if one who had been his Father's Clerk, had done as Mr. Fre⯑mont's Clerk did. But Mr. Ponchartrain, being in⯑formed ſoon after their Father's Death, that there was ſomething found among his Papers, that might turn to the King's Advantage; he ſent a Commiſſary from Paris, to ſeal up all the Papers, which he had in the place where he died. It was within the Ge⯑nerality of Alencon; and Mr. de Pommereu's Son, who was Intendant of it, receiving Orders to be preſent, when the Cabinets, Coffers &c. were to be ſealed; the whole Buſineſs was done, with all the Precautions, that could poſſibly be taken, in a matter, wherein they were afraid to be cheated. And the Intendant left a Garriſon to continue there, till the Seals ſhould be taken off. This Buſineſs fright⯑ned all the Partiſans, who were afraid, their Chil⯑dren and Goods might be uſed the ſame way after their Deaths. But becauſe in the time of ſo burthen⯑ſome a War, the Court had often need of them, it was not thought convenient to diſcourage them, and therefore a Report was ſpread among the People, that the reaſon why the Papers &c. of the deceaſed were ſealed up, was becauſe he had made a Will in favour of the King. When they had obſerved all the Forms that were uſual on ſuch Occaſions, ſo that there was no reaſon could be given for any farther delay, the Intendant returned from Alencon, to aſſiſt at the opening of the Seals, which was done with all the uſual Formalities, and in the Inventory of the Papers [149] which had been left by the Deceaſed; it was found there were Two Papers, by which the Partiſan had declared, that God had given him Grace to examine his Conſcience, and that he would not adventure to go into the other World, without reſtoring what he had taken wrongfully. In the firſt of theſe Papers, which clearly appeared to have been firſt done, tho' it was neither dated or ſigned; he ſaid, that he had by indirect and unjuſt methods, gain'd 100000 Crowns, during the time he had been concerned in the Revenues, ſo that it was his Will, that his Heirs might reſtore that Sum to the King; as for the other Paper, it was found to have been written after the former, for it contained a Declaration, that after a mature and ſerious Reflection, upon all the Buſineſs he had been concerned in, he found that he had made an un⯑juſt Acquiſition of 400000 Livers; ſo that it was his Will, that his Children ſhould reſtore it to his Majeſty, out of his Eſtate. The Intendant ſent Copies of the two Papers to Mr. Pontchartrain, who in ſuch a matter, would not rely upon his own Judgment, which was, that tho' they were not dated or ſigned, ſo that they would not ſignifie any thing between Two private Per⯑ſons; yet it might be otherwiſe, when the King was concerned in them. He therefore conſulted all thoſe, whom he thought capable to determine ſo nice a Que⯑ſtion; ſome were of one opinion, and ſome of another. Thoſe who were more for the Forms of Law, than for material Juſtice, did not think that the Heirs of the deceaſed could be ſued in Law; ſeeing ſuch Papers were not regarded in any Court of Juſtice. But on the other hand, thoſe who followed the Maxims of Mr. Puſſort the late Dean of the Council, (who, as I have already ſaid, voted always in the King's favour whether his Majeſty was Plaintiff or Defendant) made uſe of his Authority to prove, that the King had good reaſon to demand the 400000 Livers mentioned in the laſt of the Two Papers.

[150] Beſides this Authority, which they reckoned upon as a Law, that had taken place in the time of a great Miniſter, who had reformed the State, and had put the King's Affairs into an excellent Condition; by the prodigious Taxes that had been laid upon the Par⯑tiſans; they alleged alſo, that when a man did ac⯑knowledge, in a Paper written with his own Hand, that he had unjuſtly acquired ſuch a Sum of money, that was by a Thouſand times a more convincing Proof, than all the other Proofs; that could poſſibly be had. Mo [...]ſieur Po [...]chartr [...]in was much of the ſame opinion, as the truth is, a man can hardly be of a⯑nother: Yet there are certain Rules of Law, which muſt be obſerved, leaſt the Laws themſelves, to which they r [...]late, ſhould be violated: And therefore he ſpake nothing either for it, or againſt it, unleſs that it was to be wiſhed, that all the Partiſans, which had been formerly taxed, had done as this man did; ſince that would have been an eſtabliſhed Rule by which the King might have legally demanded, what they had cheated him of. Becauſe of this Ex⯑preſſion, it was thought that he was much of Mr. P [...]ſſort's mind, as to the Partiſans; yet it was an Expreſſion no man could find fault with; for beſides, that common ſenſe will not allow a man to accuſe himſelf unjuſtly, he was obliged to ſay all this, as ſuitable to his Office: However, all the Effects of the deceaſed Farmer of the Revenues were ſeized, ſo that, though he who had been the Informer in this matter, had not promiſed to find out 40000000 as Mr. de Fre [...]ont's Clerk had done, yet the Infor⯑mation was found to be truer. The great need the King had of money at that time to ſupport the War, was the reaſon, that this Miniſter thought it not proper, to neglect ſuch a Buſineſs: Though to ſpeak the Truth it was ſo ſmall a matter, in com⯑pariſon of what was needful to the ſupport of that War, that it was no more capable to do it, than it is for a drop of Water to quench a great Flame.

[151] Though the King had been already neceſſitated to make a great many Edicts, yet he was ſtill obliged to make new ones; and one among the reſt, which gave occaſion to a witty Ex⯑preſſion of the Duke de Ferte's, at leaſt it was reckoned witty, by ſome little pretenders to Wit; though I confeſs, I am not of their mind, whether it be that I am but an ill Judg, or that they have been miſtaken at that time. This Edict was concerning Coats of Arms belonging to Families. All the People of Quality were ſtriving, who ſhould make the beſt Projects for bringing in Money to the King; for they knew His Majeſty would reward them for it; and moſt of them had need of ſome reward, becauſe of the great Expence they were at, in the Army and at Court. The Dutcheſs of Ro⯑quelaure was the Author of this Project, and had a good Re⯑ward for it, and being come to Verſailles ſome days after, with a very rich Petticoat; many of thoſe little Pretenders who were ſtanding round about the Duke de la Ferte, who made them ſometimes laugh, deſired him to take notice of that rich Petticoat, and to admire it. He ſaid that it was no wonder it was rich and fine, ſeeing it was ſtrew'd and deck'd with all their Scutcheons. This was the witty Expreſſion that was ſo much talk'd of: Though I thought there was as little Wit in it, if not leſs, than in another which he had ſome days after, upon occaſion of the King's going to S. Germain en Laye to pay a Viſit to K. James and his Queen. Thoſe who were with the Duke asked him, why the King went ſo often thither, he ſaid, he did not exactly know what might be his Majeſty's Reaſon, but he gueſſed, that the General Peace being now upon the point of being concluded; ſo that K. James could not ſtay any longer in that Kingdom: The King went to ac⯑quaint him with the Article of Six Months ſtay: Every bo⯑dy was perſwaded, that ſeeing by this Peace, the King was to acknowledge King William for Rightful King of Great Britain; K. James would not ſtay and ſee his Ambaſſadors come to His Majeſty's Court, and that therefore he would go to Rome, or at leaſt to Avignon, to conceal his Misfortunes. But as he has learned by the Exerciſes of Piety and Devotion, which he has practiſed theſe many Years paſt, to take the ſaddeſt events as from the hand of God; ſo it is now found, that the Duke de la F [...]rte, was out in his gueſſing, when he thought that this Prince would ſoon leave S. Germains. Yet K. James reſolved not to let the Peace be concluded, without making the Confederates ſenſible, that the Alliance they had entered into, with K. William, for ſetting him upon his Throne, might be of dangerous conſequence to themſelves. He cau⯑ſed a Manifeſto to be drawn up, and copies of it to be given to all the Miniſters of Princes and States, that were concerned in the Conferences at Reſwick. In this Manifeſto, he vindica⯑ted himſelf from an Imputation, that his Subjects had char⯑ged [152] him with; which was, that he had been always ſo ſtrict⯑ly in the Kings Intereſts, that he would never enter into any Treaty, with any other Potentates, for reducing his Power which was become formidable to all Europe. And the Confe⯑derates themſelves, who had often endeavoured to gain him, but could never prevail (whether it was that he was really in his Majeſty's Intereſt, or that he thought it was for his own Intereſt, not to engage in War againſt him) made alſo uſe of the ſame pret [...]xt, when they deſerted him. For when he ſent ſome of his Servants to their Courts, (after K. William was entered into England) and deſired them, that they would not give any aſſiſtance to that Prince, they met with ſo very cold a reception, that it is impoſſible to find its Parallel. And the Pope himſelf did as it were mock at him, ſo that the Perſon whom he ſent to Rome, brought nothing back, but Beads inſtead of Summs of Money; tho' he informed his H [...]lineſs, that the true Reaſon of his Misfortunes, was, that he had zeal [...]uſly endeavoured to re-eſtabliſh the Roman Ca⯑tholick Religion in his Dominions; but how much ſoever it was the Pope's Intereſt to have protected him upon that ac⯑count: Ye [...] his Holineſs had his own ſhare in thoſe fears, which the King's great Power gave to all the other Princes of Europe; ſo that he would not hearken, either to what Religion adviſed him to, or to what the Ordinary Intereſt of Popes uſes to ſuggeſt to them on ſuch occaſions. After K. James had publiſhed his Manifeſto, he met with the ſame treatment be had met with before; for tho' he clear'd himſelf, as well as he could, from the accu [...]ation I have already mentioned; and endeavoured alſo to make the Conſederates ſen [...]ble, that they might come to fall under as great Misfortunes, as had befallen him, if they ſhould ſufter that by the T [...]eaty of Peace, which was upon the point of being concluded, the Prince of [...] ſhould be acknowledged King of England: Yet they did not think it convenient, to treat him better than they had done before. So that there being no hopes left him, of being reſtored to his Throne, unleſs ſome great Re⯑volution ſhould happen in his Country: He intreated the King, that what Treaty ſoever he ſhould make with his Ene⯑mies, yet he [...]ight never oblige him, to go to any great di⯑ſtance from his Court. He thought Prudence obliged him to ask this of his Majeſty: For he remembred, how after his Fa⯑ther's misfortunes, his Brother and he had been forced to de⯑part out of F [...]ance, where they thought to have found pro⯑tection.

MEMOIRS Of the Court OF FRANCE, And of the City OF PARIS.
PART II.

K. James's Manifeſto had no effect. It be⯑ing the Intereſt of all the Confederates to keep K. William upon the Throne, that he had mounted by the unanimous conſent of his People, they took no notice of it. The Plenipotentiaries, at the Reſwick Treaty, carry'd on the Conferences without any great Concern in his Intereſt. All that France could do on his behalf, was, a ſecret Article providing for the [...]een, his Wife's Joynture, to be ſign'd at the ſame time with the Treaty. The inſignificancy [2] of this Manifeſto, appear'd in his moſt Chriſtian Majeſties Declaration to all the Allies; that he own'd K. William as the lawful King: With⯑out which Article, he could expect no Accommo⯑dation. This accknowledgment did not [...]uch perplex that Prince, who went upon ſure grounds: For in the Articles of Peace propos'd by the King, when his Plenipotentaries offer'd to ſtate that Article, he advis'd 'em to daſh it out, becauſe he knew, very well, how to keep up the Dignity confer'd upon him by the Parliament of England, with the Succours of his People and Allies: So that this Queſtion was to bear no Fi⯑gure among thoſe conteſted by the reſpective Parties.

In the mean time, the Armies, purſuant to their uſual Cuſtom, made preparations for the Field; and the King having re-enforc'd his Troops, with thoſe he had recall'd from Italy, would not liſten to the Truce that was offer'd to him by the Allies. The Mareſhalls Villeroy, and Boufflers, Commanded the Army in Flan⯑ders, which was the moſt conſiderable. But tho' they ſucceeded to the command the Duke of Luxemburg had before his Death, yet they were far ſhort of ſucceeding to his Reputation. Vil⯑leroy, for his firſt Adventure, ſuffer'd the Prince of Vaudemont to eſcape, whom he might have entirely defeated: And his careleſneſs, not to mention his Inſufficiency, occaſion'd the loſs of Namur Boufflers having thrown himſelf into that Place, made ſo ſorry a Defence, that, after his return from that Expedition, L' Apparat, who was chief Engineer at the Siege of Barcelona, told him to his Face, That if he had been with⯑in the Walls of Namur, it had either been ſtill in the King's Hands, or elſe he had cut off a great part of K. William's Army. The Mar [...] ⯑ſhal [3] was mightily ſurpriz'd with this Diſcourſe, which ſeem'd to charge him either with Cow⯑ardice, tho', indeed, L' Apparat was miſtaken if h [...] took that for his weak ſide, or elſe with want of Experience: for one of theſe two muſt needs have occaſion'd the loſs of that Place: However he reply'd, That his ſucceſs before Barcelona made him take ſuch meaſures as be⯑came him very ill; and that he would make him eat in his words, were it not that he knew he had receiv'd ſome Blows on the Head, which had turn'd his Brains. L' Apparat made Anſwer, That the Mareſhal ought not to apply to him⯑ſelf what he mean'd of another: that he pray'd God to forbid that ever he ſhould cenſure his Conduct; that he was very ſenſibIe of the defe⯑rence and reſpect that was due to him; that he only mean'd, that Mr. de Megrigny, who was employ'd to defend Namur in the Quality of Engineer, had acted his part ſo very ill, that he would not ſtand to affirm that he either wanted Courage, or at leaſt, had forgot himſelf. By this means, L' Apparat clear'd himſelf: And the Mareſhal was very well pleas'd to ſee him throw upon another, what he had apply'd to himſelf. But Soldiers do not always examine things ſo nicely; whoever has the General Com⯑mand, they impute all their good or bad Succeſs to him. The whole Army regretted the loſs of their late General. Beſides, there was a vaſt difference between him, and thoſe who fill'd his Poſt. Mareſhal Villeroy was puff'd up with a great Opinion of himſelf, tho', at the ſame time, he never had done any thing upon which he could ground ſo much concei [...]edneſs. On the contrary, the Soldiers call'd to mind, how contemptuouſ⯑ly his Father treated him upon his return from the Siege of Liſle, by reaſon of ſome Charge [4] laid againſt him, inſomuch, that if he had not, by a deſperate turn, retriev'd his Reputation in the Conqueſt of the County, which happen'd the next Year, he had run the riſque of never returning. As for Mareſhall Boufflers, 'tis true, he could not be charg'd with any ſuch thing; for he was ſo cautious and irreſolute, that 'twas manifeſt he was a ſtranger to that Preſumption, that render'd the other unſupportable. But, af⯑ter all, this irreſolution ſpoke him diffident of himſelf; for which reaſon, the Soldiers ſaid, The Duke of Luxemburg read what he had to do in his Hunch; but neither of the preſent Ge⯑nerals could find any thing in their Heads.

Some Hours before that General's Death, he call'd the Duke of Montmoran [...]y, his Eldeſt Son, to his Bed-ſide, and gave him to know, that to make him eaſy, he behov'd to give him a Pro⯑miſe, which would afford him ſome Comfort in his Paſſage to the other World. The Duke of Montmorancy promiſing Obedience to his Commands, the poor dying General buoy'd up with Hopes, told him, That ſince he had been long [...] Marchioneſs [...]f Belle [...]onds, [...] be the Fool to Marry her, [...]on [...] deſ [...]'d he would [...], upon [...], not to Marry her, when his Eyes were [...]. This Lady was the Duke of Mazarin's [...]: Her Father's Devourneſs occaſion'd her being Married to the Marquis of Bell [...]fonds; for the [...], his Father, was as devout as the [...]; but the Ma [...]quis was not a proper ma [...] for her: [...]or he had [...]i [...]er the Eſtate, nor a thouſand other things, that a Lady, of her Quality, might have expected in a Husband. However, as Children do not always follow their Father's [...]oot-ſteps, ſo the Marquis was not near ſo devc [...]t as the Mareſh [...]ll; upon which account, [5] the Duke of Mazarin frequently repented that he had made him his Son-in-Law. At laſt, after the Marquis had liv'd ſome time with the Duke's Daughter, he was Kill'd at the head of his Regiment in the Battle of St [...]enkerke. The Government of Vincennes, being given by the Duke of Mazarin with his Daughter, be⯑came vaca [...]t by the Marquis's Death; ſo that the Marchioneſs was but in ſorry circumſtances for a Lady of Quality: For tho' the King gave that Government to her Son, and the ſurvivor⯑ſhip to the Mareſh [...]ll of Bell [...]fonds, yet the in⯑comes ariſing to her out of her Husband's Eſtate, were but very narrow. 'Twas for this reaſon, that the Duke of Luxemburg fear'd his Son's Marrying of her, he being then a Widdower by the Death of his Wife, who was a Daughter of the Duke of Chevreuſe. The Duke of Montmo⯑rancy, whom his Father never preſs d to any thing that was not to his advantage, readily com⯑ply'd with his Father's Demands in giving his Promiſe. Two Days after, the Duke of Luxem⯑burg Died, and his Son reſolv'd to ſtand to his Promiſe, tho' he continued ſtill to viſit the Wid⯑dow, and even became more in Love with her than before: However having no Iſſue by his Wife, and being a Perſon of a great Figure in regard of the Government of Normandy, which his Father had procur'd him, he had a mind to Marry again. The Marchioneſs of Seignelay was a proper match for him, both for Eſtate and Quality. She was very handſome, and her Age bore a ſuitable proportion to his. But this Lady, being the Widdow of a Miniſter of State, in whoſe life-time every body ſtoop'd to her, ſtood upon the point of Honour, when ſhe preceiv'd that the Duke's Agents pretended, that ſhe behov'd to give the Duke conſiderable odds, [6] becauſe ſhe had Children; after which ſhe would never hear of the Propoſal agen. She thought, that notwithſtanding her Widdow-hood, ſhe was, at any time, as good as the Duke of Montmor⯑ancy, who had aſſum'd the Title of Luxemburg after his Father's Death; and that it became him to treat with her at even hands. The Duke finding ſhe would not give him any thing, look'd out for a Wife elſe-where; and having pitch'd upon the only Daughter of the Marquis of Cle⯑rembaut, who had formerly a place in Monſieur's Houſhold, Married her a few Days after. She was but fourteen Years of Age, and was very Pretty, tho' ſhe was not a Beauty. Her Mother being the Widdow of Count du Pleſſis, the preſent D [...]ke of Choiſeul's Eldeſt Brother had Married her Husband for Love; and being acquainted with the Pleaſure of the Conjugal State, when Man and Wife live in perfect Union, would needs put her Son-in-Law upon the ſame Foot with the Marquis of Clerembaut. She us'd all man⯑ner of perſwaſives to oblige him to keep Com⯑pany with no Woman but his Wife. But the D [...]ke of Luxemburg having Married her Daugh⯑t [...]r only for his Intereſt, and having always Lov'd the Marchioneſs of Bellefonds, did not like her Remonſtrances. He told her, all the World was not like her Husband; and ſcarce any body but himſelf, could confine their Ad⯑dreſſes to one Woman. His Mother-in-Law, not diſcourag'd by this anſwer, renew'd the at⯑tack ſeveral times. She would even oblige him never to ſee his Miſtreſs again: But the Duke would never give her his Promiſe to that effect; upon which ſhe put the ſhrew upon him, and treated him, juſt as if the regulation of his Conduct had been her Province. The Duke did not like her ways: However, to make her ſen⯑ [...]ſible, [7] that that was not the way to win, or break him, he re-doubled his viſits to the Marchioneſs of Bellefonds. This put the Old Woman into a Paſſion. She teaz'd her Son-in-Law ſo inceſſantly, that he was oblig'd to tell her, he would either take away his Wife to an⯑other Houſe (for they liv'd all together, the Mother-in-Law and her Husband being oblig'd, by the Contract of Marriage, to give them both Lodging and Diet) or elſe Dine and Sup always abroad. And, indeed, he was as good as his word: But when he ſaw all his Remon⯑ſtrances were ineffectual, he began to lye out in the Night: ſometimes in the Bagnio's, and ſometimes in Luxemburg-Houſe, which was ſtill furniſh'd. But all this was ſo far from producing the propoſed Effect, that his Mo⯑ther-in-Law grew ſtill more uneaſy, and trou⯑bleſome, inſomuch, that he was quickly oblig'd to leave her for good and all.

This Duke had three Brethren, and two Siſt⯑ers, one of which Married the Prince of Neu⯑ſchattel, as I intimated above; The other was ſhut up in a Convent, but would willingly have come out if ſhe could. As for the Brethren, one of them was hunch-back'd like his Eather: For which reaſon, the late Duke of Luxemburg deſign'd him for the Church, purſuant to the common Practice of Perſons of Quality, who al⯑lot only to God Almighty, what is not fit for the World. The two other Brethren were Count Luce, and Chevalier Luxembourg: The former being already a Brigadier in the King's Army, and in good repute among the Soldiers, quickly aſſum'd the Title of Duke of Chatillon, upon the Death of the Dutcheſs of Mekleburg, his Aunt, who made him her univerſal Heir, and, among other things, left him the Dutchy of [8] Chatillon, with the Lands of Marlau, which brought in better than forty thouſand Livres a Year. The King reviv'd that Dukedom in his Favour; for it had lain extinct by the Death of the Duke of Chatillon, his Aunts firſt Husband. This new Duke Married afterwards Mademoi⯑ſelle de R [...]han, deſcended of an infamous Branch of the Houſe of Tremouille; for the Marquis of R [...]han her Father, and her Grand-Father, as well as the Abbot of Tremouille, her Uncle, were Perſons that did not deſerve ſuch Illuſtrious Titles. As for Count Ol [...]nne, her Father's Elder Brother, 'tis true, he had more Senſe than either her Father, or the Abbot, and did not love Drinking as they did: But, after all, he had never been much known in the World, if his Wife had not made up that Defect; for the care ſhe took in ſpreading his Reputation, was Crown'd with ſuch admirable ſucceſs, that there were Generals in the Army who were not ſo much ſpoken of as he. However he did one thing that met with a general Approbation from the World, namely his ſeparation from her, as ſoon as he ſaw her beſtow upon others, what was only his due. But having inur'd him⯑ſelf to her Cuſtoms while they liv'd together, he retain'd a Tincture of 'em after her depar⯑ture. He lov'd to ſee a great deal of Company in his Houſe, as ſhe did in hers; and a great many met there, and G [...]m'd every Night. By th [...]s means, His Majeſty, who always diſcou⯑rag'd Impiety, came to be inform'd, that he w [...]nt beyond many others in a dexterity of Coin- [...] Oaths. Upon this, His Majeſty ſent him word, That if he continued in that courſe, [...]e [...] [...]me to repent it ere long. This Com⯑pl [...]ent made him wiſer than he was before; ſo that what further Progreſs he made in his wont⯑ed [9] Courſe, was done Incognito. 'Twas to be wiſh'd, that the King's Authority could have reform'd his Brethren as ſoon as himſelf. Tho' Swearing was not their Crime, yet one would not have taken them for Perſons of Quality, unleſs he had known them. The Chevalier de Rohan, and the Abbot Tremouille, lodg'd in a ſcandalous Tippling-Houſe; tho' the laſt was worth almoſt ten Thouſand Livers a Year, and the firſt had enough to Live upon. Upon this account, a Gentleman belonging to the Court, to oblige them to recollect themſelves, ſent 'em a great Pacquet, Counter-ſign'd by a Secretary of State, as if it had come from the Court: 'Twas addreſs'd, To my Couſins, the Abbot Tre⯑mouille, and Chevalier Rohan, at the ſix Monks Tavern, in Paris. 'Twas deliver'd to their Land⯑lady, at a time, when they were abroad; and tho' they had not much Senſe, yet they under⯑ſtood it to be a ridiculing of their Drunkenneſs. The name of Couſin, in the Subſcription, was a Privilege that all their Family formerly en⯑joy'd, tho', at preſent, 'tis confin'd to the Eldeſt: So that if they were not Dukes and Peers, as they are at preſent, yet the King would al⯑ways Dignifie them with the Title of My Couſin, unleſs His Majeſty pleas'd to take that Preroga⯑tive from them, as he has ſometimes done to other Families.

For inſtance, the Counts of Clermont Lodeve, whoſe Poſterity the Marquis of Seſſack pretends, at preſent, to renew: This Family, I ſay, in former times, were intitled to the ſame Privi⯑lege; and 'tis only of late, that the King de⯑priv'd 'em of it, and that upon this occaſion; The Elder Brother of that Marquis, being or⯑der'd to the Baſtile, by reaſon of a Blow he gave to the Biſhop of Londeve, in Languedock, was [10] in a quanda [...]y whether he ſhould obey the Or⯑der, or not, becauſe he was not ſtyl'd Couſin in the Seal'd Letter that was ſent him. However, Count Olonne, who was worth almoſt forty Thouſand Livers a Year, having no Children, reſolv'd to marry Chevalier Rohan, his Brother, in hopes that the Off-ſpring would not reſemble the Father. There being few Ladies of Quality, tho' never ſo Ordinary and Poor, that would accept of him for a Husband; He fix'd upon one of his own Couſins that had nothing, namely, Mademoiſelle Noirmoutier, Siſter to the Dutcheſ⯑ſes of Brachiane, and Lanti: She was likewiſe of the Tremouille Family, and the Daughter of the Duke of Noirmoutier, who had ſo great a hand in the firſt Paris War. As ſoon as he open'd the matter to her, ſhe trembled from top to toe, as being acquainted with the Character of her deſign'd Husband; but his promiſe of ſettling his whole Eſtate upon his Brother, in caſe the marriage went on, and a great many other things that he repreſented to her as matter of Comfort, did ſo tame her, that ſhe preſently comply'd. And thus ſhe married the Man in the World, that deſerv'd leaſt to be Lov'd; and upon other ſcores, had ſo little knowledge of his own Character, that ſome time after, when ſome Citizens came to Game at her Houſe, [...]e of 'em, not knowing the Chevalier, and ſee⯑ing him offer her a Seat, bid him give her an⯑other, becauſe that one did not pleaſe her Mademoiſelle Noirmoutier, who then enjoy'd the Title of Marchioneſs of Rohan, was oblig'd to put up a great many other Affronts. But, Gaming, which ſhe lov'd to the laſt degree, made amends for every thing; and the Profit ſhe drew from it, compenſated the avarice of Count Olonne, who having made her Husband [11] his Heir, was ſo ſharp ſet, that he would give him nothing while he Liv'd. Mr. Harlei, Son-in-Law to the preſent Chancellor, lov'd Gaming as paſſionately as ſhe, and us'd to game in her Houſe, where he made ſuch a Voyage, that a few ſuch more would have ruin'd him. She, and Madam Theron, won twenty Thouſand Crowns of him, at one bout; and upon ſuch loſſes, it being natural to offer ſome Plea or o⯑ther for not paying, he did not do as Mr. Ver⯑thamont did; for inſtead of paying the Money without any words, in order to ſtifle the ſcan⯑dal, he gave it out, that he was Cheated. The Chancellor diſpleas'd with his Conduct, told him, 'Twas a ſorry Excuſe, and that when the King had catch'd a Man cheating him, he ex⯑pell'd him the Court; which was a Leſſon for others, that it behov'd him to follow. In fine, he gave him twenty Thouſand Crowns to be deliver'd to thoſe that won that ſumm of him. The Marchioneſs of Rohan, had ſeveral ſuch little Jobbs, which help'd her out while ſhe wait⯑ed for Count Olonne's Death: At laſt he Died, as well as her Husband, who left her only one Daughter. Upon this, ſhe reſolv'd to breed up her Daughter as a great Heireſs, and to enjoy her ſelf. But, as the ſaying is, Man propoſes, and God diſpoſes. Her ſelf was ſnatch'd away ſoon after 'em. She was ſeiz'd with a violent Pain in a very ſenſible Part; and to appeaſe the unſufferable Pain, and procure her ſome Reſt, ſhe took a Doſe of Opium that was ſomewhat ſtronger than ordinary, immediately after the taking of it, ſhe ſlept effectualy, but ſo as never to awake; for next Day ſhe was found Dead in her Bed. 'Twas her Daughter that the Duke of Chatillon Married: And tho' ſhe was the Daughter of a Father and Mother that [12] were not very well ſpoken of, and withal, not ſo agreeable as her Siſter-in-Law, yet ſhe found out the ſecret of living more happily with her Husband, than the Dutcheſs of Luxemburg did with hers: For that Duke continued ſtill to viſit Madam Bellefonds, which inrag'd his Mo⯑ther-in-Law ſo much, that if ſhe had had her Will, ſhe had taken her Daughter from him: But, as there are ſome Rules in the way of Ju⯑ſtice, that one is oblig'd to follow in ſpite of all that may happen; ſo it behov'd both ſhe, and her Daughter to be patient.

At the ſame time, the King gave a Penſion of ſix thouſand Live [...]s to Madam de Cav [...]is; and when he beſtow'd the Gift, gave her to know, that he was angry with himſelf for being ſo late in gr [...]ti [...]ying her; and that ſhe ſhould loſe [...]thing by ſtaying ſo long, for that the Pre⯑ [...]t he then made her, was but a Pattern of what he deſign'd to do for the future, both for h [...], and h [...]r Husband. Mr. de Cavoy was grand Marſhal of the apartments of the King's Houſe, a place that entitled his Predeceſ [...]ors to the or⯑der of the Holy Ghoſt. But at the laſt in⯑ſtallment, he had not that Dignity Conferr'd upon him; tho' many others, that had not ſo much reaſon to expect it as he, were then inveſt⯑ed with it. The reaſon was ſaid to be this. He appear'd to be too much intereſs'd in ſome things, for which he employ'd the Marquis of S [...]ign [...] ⯑l [...]y's I [...]tereſt, being in very good terms with that Miniſter. For the purpoſe; the Scene was l [...]id between him and a Merchant, to whom he promis'd, upon a conſideration of Ten Thouſand Crow [...]s, to releaſe a Veſſel of his that had been ſ [...]iz'd as a true Prize. And in effect, he pro⯑ [...]r'd the Reſtitution from that Miniſter, upon whom it depended. But as every Man has E⯑n [...]mies; [13] ſo thoſe that had an intereſt in the Confiſcation of the Ship, took occaſion to ac⯑quaint the King, that Mr. Cavoy, in conſidera⯑tion of a private Intereſt, had caus'd a ſeizure to be reſtor'd without a valuable Ranſome. Up on this, His Majeſty revers'd the Decree that the Counſel had given on the Merchant's behalf: So that his Ship and Cargo was confiſcated a⯑new, and ſold for the King's Benefit. This done, Mr. de Cavois was obliged to return the ten Thouſand Crowns he had already fingered: And forasmuch as he did not repay it, till he was preſſed and urged to it, It came to the King's Ears, for there are always People about Court, that are never a ſleep when they have an opportunity of injuring their Neighbour. Be⯑ſides, a chief reaſon why they would not for⯑give Cavo [...]s, was, That there was a miſunder⯑ſtanding between the Marquis de Louv [...]is, and the Marquis de S [...]ign [...]l [...]; and the Creatures of the one, hunted only for opportunities of ruin⯑ing the Creatures of the other, preſuming that [...]ch a Sacrifice would be very agreeable to their [...]tron. In fine, the Death of the Marquis de S [...]ign [...]l [...]y, had, in a manner, Buried Mr. de Ca⯑ [...]s, in his Maſter's Diſgrace, when the King [...]eviv'd him by this his bounteous preſent. He had bought a Houſe at Lo [...]vettienne, a ſmall Village about a Muske [...] ſhot from Marli. At this place, his Wi [...]e, a Native of Bri [...]tany, kept a Dairy, and having made ſome Butter after the faſhion of her own Country, made a Preſent of it to the King, as an acknowledgement of his late Bounty. His Majeſty lik'd the Butter a⯑bove all things in the World, inſomuch, that he deſired her to ſend him ſome, not only to Marli, but to Verſailles, when he return'd thither.

[14] In the mean time, the Marquis of Caſcaye, Am⯑baſſador from Portugal, entertain'd the Publick with a very diverting Scene. He was a very Rich Man, and brought as much Silver Plate to Paris, as might have ſerved for twenty Am⯑baſſador's Tables. He was a paſſionate lover of Gaming, eſpecially at Lanſquenet, which was always in vogue, notwithſtanding the efforts of a n [...]w Lieutenant of the Police, to ſuppreſs it, who, for that end, went about to ſeveral Houſes of the City where the Gameſters Aſſembled. Ma⯑dam le Camus Deſtouches, having a Houſe in the Arſenal, and being fearleſs of that Officer's Viſits, kept two days in the week for that Game. The Ambaſſador went thither, and having loſt all his Money, began to play upon tick. An Adventurer that play'd at the ſame place, and loſt his Money as well as the Marquis, being out of Humour, happened to ſay, 'Twas a ſtrange thing to ſee Men looſe their money every day, and yet play upon Credit. The Gentleman ſpoke it with reference to ſome others that diſtinguiſhed themſelves that way, as well as the Ambaſſador. But the Ambaſſador applying it to himſelf, teſtified his Diſpleaſure by giving him two Blows upon the ſpot, with all his force: And to entertain him yet better, order⯑ed his Gentleman of the Horſe, who always followed him, to give him ſome Blows with the flat ſide of his Sword. The Gentleman of the Horſe put his Maſter's Commands in Execution, before the other could put himſelf in a poſture of Defence; ſo that he was treated at a very handſome rate. Madam de Frenoi being preſent ſaid; She wonder'd that a Man, eſpecially one of his Character, would give ſuch uſage before Ladies, there being ſeveral in the Company be ſides her ſelf. This ſhe ſpoke in a finical way [15] affecting the air of Quality, and that in ſuch words as might make her paſs for ſuch. But the Dutcheſs de la Ferte, having a deſign upon her, either becauſe de Frenoi was handſomer than ſhe, or becauſe ſhe was one of the loſers; reply'd, That it did not become a little Cit, like her, to cenſure the Actions of a Perſon of the Marquis of Caſcay's Quality. The Scene being thus changed, they were ſo intent upon the new Diſpute about Decorum, that they forgot what had paſſed; only the poor Man that was banged, kept a heavy clutter, Swearing and bluſtring, that he would Die by it, or have ſa⯑tisfaction for the Affront he had received: But whatever was in it, 'tis now almoſt a Year ſince the thing happen'd, and I do not find that he has done any thing ſuitable to his words. As for Madam de Frenoi, ſhe was as good a Ton⯑gue-pad as the Dutcheſs, and managed her Point to the advantage. Some days after the Ambaſſador came again to the Royal Palace, to play at the Houſe of a Lady of another ſort of Quality than Madam Deſtouches. The Dutch⯑eſs of Ferte happening to be there, and retain⯑ing a reſentment of the diſagreeable words that Madam du Frenoi had uttered upon the account of his Conduct, asked him, if he ordered his Gentleman of the Horſe always to follow him; for he was with him then, and, indeed, at all times followed him as cloſe as a ſhadow does the Body. The Ambaſſador was about to give her ſome anſwer or other; but ſhe interrupted him by ſetting forth, that there was no body in the Company to beat, ſo that the Champion would looſe his time in ſtaying there: That it was a thing unheard of among Ladies of Qua⯑lity, ſuch being in that Company, to converſe with a Man that at the laſt meeting, had treated [16] their Sex without Reſpect or Honour; and, that if ſuch things took in Portugal, it was not ſo in France, where the Ladies knew bet⯑ter things. This laſt Article the Ambaſſador would not grant to her. He had taken too much pains to learn of the Court and City La⯑dies how to play at Cards, to quit the Profeſ⯑ſion ſo eaſily. But, as to the firſt Article, He made Anſwer, That ſince ſhe deſired his Gen⯑tleman of the Horſe ſhould be ſent away, it ſhould be done. The new Quarrel being thus put up, they went to Gaming: In the mean time, the poor Fellow that was Drubb'd, run up and down Verſailles and Paris, in queſt of reparation for the A [...]tront: But his Intereſt be⯑ing inſignificant in either, He loſt his Labour, and put up the Blows He had received.

The Marquis of Ceaquin continued ſtill to ſlight his [...]ady; and Her Relations, under⯑ſtanding that He went often to the Opera, and had a [...]d [...] a ſhe Creature retaining to it, ob⯑ [...] [...] His Majeſty an Order, Prohibiting all [...] of Quality, or any others to ſtand upon [...]: For 'twas there that ſeveral In⯑ [...] were firſt ſet on Foot, which were af⯑terwards improved behind the Scenes, and at laſt finiſhed elſewhere. This unſow'd a great many little Sparks that went thither only to belch out a thouſand ſmutty and rank Stories among theſe Women, who did not ſo much as wrap up the fouleſt Bawdry in clean Linnen: For they were all ſo very Lewd, that they did not bluſh to ſpeak themſelves ſuch things, the very hearing of which would, at other times, have covered them with Confuſion and Diſ⯑order.

[17] The Chevalier de la Hilliere, Governor of Ro⯑ [...]ro [...] Died about this time. He had formerly been a Lieutenant in the Life-Guard. He did not much diſtinguiſh himſelf in his Life-time; and I remem⯑ber to have read ſome where or other, That as he walked one day before the King, the point of his Sword having pierc'd through the Scabbard, gave His Majeſty a prick in the Leg; upon which the King told him, He believ'd his Sword never hurt any body before. I ſhall not confirm this piece of detraction, of which His Majeſty is leſs capable than another; for whatever occaſion Men of Quality may have given him to com⯑plain, he never ſpoke to any of them in diſoblig⯑ing Terms. But 'tis certain, that tho' this Knight was not much talk'd of in his Life-time, yet it was otherwiſe after his Death. He made a Will that many wonder'd at; which was much of the ſame Nature with that made by the Farmer of the Revenues mentioned in the Firſt Part of this Work: Nay, it was rather more valid; for inſtead of chooſing ſoft ſmooth Words, to ſignify that he had cheated the King, he downright own⯑ed himſelf guilty of Robbery. He ſet forth, in plain terms, that he had Robb'd the King of twen⯑ty Thouſand Livers, while he was Governor of the Place above-mention'd; and order'd his Heirs to make Reſtitution of the ſame, before they ap⯑propriated to themſelves one Farthing of his E⯑ſtate. A great many put in for his Government; for there were People enough about Court ready to take the alarm upon any vacancy, who wanted ſome Subſiſtence of the King, becauſe they had ſpent moſt of what they had in his Service. But Mr. Bartillac, Lieurenant General of His Ma⯑jeſty's Forces, had the beſt luck. He had ſerv'd a long time without getting any thing; and the King having gratified all the old Officers, would [18] not let him be the only One that could ſay, He was forgot▪

In the mean time, Marſhal Boufflers repreſent⯑ed to His Majeſty, That he was diſſatisfied with one of his Lieutenant Generals, not that he was a Coward, and unworthy of his Poſt, but becauſe he was ſo Sawcy, that he had all the trouble in the World to make him receive his Orders. The King reply'd, that he ought to diſcard him, and that would quickly make him eaſy. This Mar⯑ſhal, who is a younger Brother of the Houſe of Pic⯑cardy, ſerv'd firſt in the Guards in the quality of Aid-Major: After that, his Eldeſt Brother Marrying Madam Guenegaut, the Daughter of Mr. du Pleſ⯑ſis Guenegaut, Secretary of State, pay'd him down his Portion. Then he bought the Royal Regi⯑ment of Dragoons, and began to diſtinguiſh him⯑ſelf at the head of it in the Battle of St. Fran⯑cis. Upon this, Mr. de Turenne, who ſtudy'd to ſerve all the World, ſpoke ſo much of him to the King, that His Majeſty had a deep impreſſion of his Character. After that; he ſerv'd, as the reſt did, till Turenne, his good Friend, Died. Mar⯑ſhal Crequi, who ſucceeded Turenne, in the qua⯑lity of a General, could not endure Boufflers at firſt, and charg'd him with intermeddling Offici⯑ouſly where he was not deſir'd, and very often without knowing well what he ſaid. He drew this check upon himſelf, by boaſting of ſome in⯑telligence he had receiv'd of the Enemy: For the Marſhal being a proud Man, did not like ſuch doings, alledging, That they inſinuated an accuſa⯑tion againſt him, as if he had not taken all the ne⯑ceſſary Meaſures for having as good intelligence as he. Whatever was in it, Mr. Boufflers, by his Pa⯑tience, conquer'd the General's Averſion, and they became ſuch good Friends, that General Crequi was the firſt that confirm'd to His Majeſty the Character that Turenne had given him of Boufflers. [19] And that Marſhal having, in the latter part of his Life, retriev'd the eclipſe he met with, at Con⯑ſardick Bridge; his Confirmation did Boufflers no harm; for the King befriended Mr. Boufflers, and having made him a Lieutenant General [...] after the Peace of Nimeguen, rais'd him a [...] ⯑wards to a higher Poſt. He was already Coll [...] General of the Dragoons; and the late Duke of Le⯑ſdiguieres, lent him Money to buy that Poſt, per⯑haps, more to diſoblige the Marquis of Louvois, than to oblige Mr. Boufflers; for that Miniſter de⯑ſign'd the Poſt for the Chevalier Tilladet, his Couſin German, tho' all the Army ſaid, he was leſs worthy of it than the other. Conſidering his Intereſt at Court, and Mr. Boufflers his incapa⯑city to purchaſe it, he thought he could not miſs the procuring of it to Tilladet, eſpecially ſince Tilladet had the moſt conſiderable Poſt next to Boufflers, in the Regiment. His deſign in procur⯑ing it to Tilladet, was to transfer it afterwards to one of his own Sons; for which reaſon he was not pleas'd with the Duke of Leſdiguieres, for lending the Money: And Mr. Boufflers was, for ſometime, doubtful, whether the Marquis was his Friend, or his Enemy. But at laſt, that Miniſter find⯑ing that Mr. Boufflers had the King's Ear, and that His Majeſty look'd upon him as another Turenne, not with reference to his capacity which was, far ſhort of that General's; but by reaſon of his be⯑ing diſ-intereſs'd like him, and his inviolable re⯑ſpect for his Perſon; That Miniſter, I ſay, upon theſe conſiderations drop'd the ſpite he had againſt him, and accordingly did not oppoſe His Majeſty's Bounty to him. He was made Governor of Lux⯑embourg, after the King took it; and Marſhal Crequi Dying ſome time after, His Majeſty be⯑ſtow'd upon him the Government of Lorrain, which was vacant by the Marſhal's Death. After that, the War broke out, [...] he gave him the [20] Command of an Army; tho' he was then but a Lievtenant General; and order'd Rubantel, a Liev⯑tenant General, and Lieutenant Collonel of the Regiment of Guards, to receive Orders from him. This diſoblig'd Rubantel the more, that he had [...]een Eldeſt Captain in the Regiment, when the other was but A [...]d-Ma [...]r; having ſucceeded to his Bro⯑ther's Company, who was kill'd in the Siege of V [...]len [...]nnes. He would have ſhewn his Reſent⯑ment before the Judges; but his Intereſt was not great there, becauſe he had refus'd to marry Ma⯑dam S. P [...]anges, who was ſince married to one Verne [...]l, Judge of the Court of Requeſts: So that they were not troubled at this his Mor⯑tifi [...]ation.

He ſerv'd under this New General with a great deal of diſcontent; but he quickly met with a great⯑er Aff [...]ont; for Mr. Boufflers his Intereſt at Court gr [...]w ſo much, that he had not only a blew Rib⯑band, but was made a Marſhal of France, Gover⯑nor of the French Flanders, and Collonel of the Regiment of Guards. This laſt piece of Honour conferr'd upon him; diſoblig'd Rubantel more than any thing elſe; for being Lieutenant Collonel of that Regiment, he was oblig'd to obey his Orders every Day, whether in Camp, or at Court. Some time after, the King deſigning a review of that Regiment, Boufflers made his review firſt, in order to remedy all Deficiencies before the King ſaw them. During this review, Mr. Rubantel ſate upon Thorns; and as ſoon as Mr. Boufflers gave orders, that the Regiment ſhould file off before him, mounted his Coach, and came to Paris, to avo [...]d the neceſſity of ſaluting him with Pike in hand. The Marſhal complain'd of this to the King: And this was the Perſon that Boufflers pointed to, when he told the King (as we intimat⯑ed above) that he was diſſatisfied with one of his Lieutenant Generals. His Majeſty finding it his [21] Intereſt to prevent ſuch an occaſion of ſcandal in his Army, in which the meaſures of Subordinati⯑on muſt always be maintain'd, order'd Rubantel to be reprimanded by the Marquis de Barbeſieux, the Son of the Marquis de Louvois, who had Died ſuddenly, and whoſe place of Secretary of State he had ſucceeded to. This did not make Rubantel the wiſer; for upon ſeveral other occa⯑ſions, he diſplay'd an impatience in being ſubject to the Marſhal; upon which the King was ſo An⯑gry, that he reſolv'd to take his Commiſſion from him. His Majeſty diſcover'd part of his mind to the Duke of Rochefoucaut, who told him, that tho' Rubantel was in the wrong, yet, if his Ma⯑jeſty would be pleas'd to conſider the Caſe, he would find that his Crime, as great as it was, did not deſerve ſo ſevere a Puniſhment; that he had been Captain of the Guards Forty Years; and tho' he was bound to give a blind Obedience to whatever Superiour his Majeſty plac'd over him, yet conſidering 'twas natural for a Man not to love to ſee himſelf commanded by another that had been long his Inferior, 'twas very poſſible for him to depart from his Duty. Theſe words ſoften'd the King's Humour; but his Majeſty being oblig'd to put another in his place, by reaſon of the ill con⯑ſequences that might enſue upon the failure of an exact Diſcipline in his Regiments, commanded the Marquis of Barbeſieux, to order Rubantel to reſign his Poſt in Favour of Count Avejeant, an old Captain of the Guards, and Marſhal de Camp. This Count was the Son-in-Law of the late Mr. Valot, the King's firſt Phyſician; and was at firſt look'd upon by his Wife's Family, as a perſon un⯑worthy of their Alliance; for ſhe had a great E⯑ſtate, and he had ſcarce any: But the King had a kindneſs for him, becauſe he was bred up his Page, and chang'd his Religion betimes; and in the progreſs of time, he, whom they look'd upon [22] as the moſt ſcandalous Member of their Family, ſuch as it was, became, not only the Ornament, but the ſupport of the ſame. The like happen'd before to the Family of Bourdeaux, which made almoſt as ſorry a Figure as Vallot's. The Eldeſt Daughter of the Intendant of the Finances, a Widdow of a Member of Parliament, being Court⯑ted by Mr. Sanguin, the Father of the Marquis of Livri, firſt Steward to the King, inveigh'd ſo bitterly againſt him, that ſhe was heard ſay, He was unworthy of being receiv'd into her Fa⯑mily. But, after all, ſhe was ſo wiſe and hap⯑py as to Court him, when ſhe ſaw him in Fa⯑vour: And if ſhe had not engag'd him in her Intereſt, ſhe had been at a loſs upon ſeveral oc⯑caſions.

To return from this Digreſſion: The Marquis de Barbeſieux, having deliver'd the King's Com⯑mands, told Rubantel at the ſame time, That his Carriage to Marſhal Boufflers had ſo diſpleas'd the King, that he would never have done any thing for him, if the Marſhal had not interceded on his behalf; that upon his Interceſſion, his Majeſty be⯑ſtowed upon him the Government of Baratu-Fort, with a Penſion of four Thouſand Livers; and that he behov'd to return thanks to the Marſhal upon that ſcore. Rubantel, conſidering that a great many of his juniors had ſome of them Govern⯑ments long before, and others more conſiderable Poſts, was ſo incens'd upon the Compliment, that he immediately return'd the Marquis this An⯑ſwer, That he would rather chooſe to receive no Fa⯑ [...]ours, than to purchaſe them at that rate; and that ſo long as he had the honour to ſerve his Majeſty, he thought he had done his Duty, in ſuch a manner, as to deſerve ſome grants, without needing the recom⯑mendation of any one. This ſaid, he went away without ſtaying for any reply; and the Marquis Barbeſieux having given the King an account of [23] his Anſwer; His Majeſty ſaid aloud, before all the Court, That he was not much ſurpriz'd with his procedure, becauſe he had known him long before to be a Man of that Kidney. He ſpoke likewiſe ſome other words, which gave Rubantel's Friends a jealouſie, that he might come to be commit⯑ted. Thereupon the Duke of Rochefoucaut, being touch'd with Pitty towards this unfortunate Man, whoſe long Service ſeem'd to deſerve a better Fate: This Duke, I ſay, preſum'd to offer to His Majeſty all that he thought was capable to ap⯑peaſe his Wrath. His Majeſty reply'd, That he would conſider all his Remonſtrances; but that he had ſuffer'd ſo many things from him already, that he wonder'd himſelf was ſo late in doing what he had then done; that this was not the firſt time he had given him occaſion to be Angry with him, and that he had met with other inſtances of his inſo⯑lence, when he did not ſeem to take notice of it. Theſe words diſplaying ſtill a reſentment, the conſequences of which were to be fear'd: The Duke of Rochefoucaut took the Liberty to make Anſwer. That, tho' His Majeſty had bore ſomething of ill humour in that Man, yet he would be pleas'd to conſider, that he had ſtood the brunt of many a Musker-Shot in his Service; and for the ſpace of forty Years, the Regiment of Guards was never imploy'd in any Siege, but he appear'd and ha [...]ard⯑ed himſelf as well as any of the Regiment; That himſelf had ſeen him Charge again five or ſix times, when a great many Men were Kill'd; That he had given equal proof of his Valour, in I do not know how many Battels; and had ſpent ſo much of his Blood, that the honourable marks he bore in his Body, deſerv'd at His Maieſty's Hands a pardon for ſome eſcapes of his Tongue.

This Diſcourſe had the deſired effect: The King's Anger relented; but things being then at another paſs, than in the Reign of Cardinal Ma⯑zarin, [24] in which Favours were obtain'd by com⯑plaining, or pretending to be formidable, for by ſuch means, two, or three Perſons got Marſhals Staffs, and others were preſer'd to Poſts of Ho⯑nour: This time (I ſay) being of a different ſtamp from that, inſomuch, that the greateſt Complai⯑ſance and Submiſſion, were neceſſary means for having Succeſs; the King did not renew the of⯑fer either of Baratu-Fort, or the Penſion. On the contrary, he beſtowed that Governor's place upon Mr. Bac [...]evilliers, who had been long forgot, and whatever merit he might have, was like to have continued ſo all his Life, if he had not luckily been the Marquis of Montchevreuil's Siſter's Son. With⯑out this Circumſtance, His Ma [...]eſty had never heard of him; for he had the misfortune to ſerve in the former War, either in Catalonia, or Meſſina: And 'tis a great misfortune for an Officer of any Ambition, to be ſo far out of his Maſter's ſight. He continued a great while Lieutenant Collo⯑nel of Horſe. But, at laſt, his Uncle being load⯑ed every day with Royal Favours, and [...]apprehend⯑ing, that it would be an unhandſome thing not to make his Nephew ſhare in his good Fortune, in⯑treated Madam Maintenon to repreſent his Servi⯑ces to the King. That Lady perform'd his re⯑queſt very willingly; and the King told her frank⯑ly, That if ſhe had not ſpoken to him, he might have continued a long time without knowing that Officer, that being the firſt time that ever he heard of his Name. Thereupon His Majeſty made him a Brigadier, without ſtaying till he had a Regiment for him. However the firſt vacancy was his; and that he was ſcarce poſſeſs'd of, when he was made a Marſhal de Camp, and ſoon after, a Lieutenant General; ſo that no Man was ever obſerv'd to riſe ſo faſt. At laſt, His Majeſty Crown'd all his Fa⯑vours with a Preſent of the above mentioned Go⯑vernment, and took his Younger Brother into his [25] Houſhould, where he is, at preſent, an Enſign of the Life-Guards.

Another Officer in the Army was yet more un⯑fortunate than Rubantel; for after being impriſon⯑ed in the Baſtile, and loſing his Regiment which was worth better than ten thouſand Crowns a Year, he had never obtain'd his liberty if the Peace had not been made: This was a Son of the Duke of Tirconnel's, by a Lady that he had promis'd marriage to, tho he never perform'd his Promiſe. His Name was Talbot, which was like⯑wiſe the Duke's Name, and is a Name very famous both in England, and in France, from whence that Houſe deriv'd its Original. He was a Brigadeer in the Army in Italy, and had a Regiment there. He came from that Country to Court, about two or three Years ago, at the time when King James pretended to Sail for England, upon which King James bid Talbot follow him; but Talbot made Anſwer, That tho' he had an Iriſh Regiment, yet being in the Service and Pay of his moſt Chriſtian Majeſty, he could not diſpoſe of his Perſon without His Majeſty's leave; and that if he would be ſo kind as to ſpeak of it to the King, he would be glad to obey his Commands. I know not whether Talbot ſpoke theſe words with ſuch an Air as ſig⯑nifyed his unwillingneſs to go; or whether that Prince took it ill, that one of his Subjects ſhould ſay, He could not obey him without his moſt Chriſti⯑an Majeſty's leave. But, in fine, Kine James diſco⯑ver'd by his Countenance, that he had forgot, that Talbot was the Son of a Man that had done him great Service; and to this Day, is, by all that know him, eſteem'd the moſt faithful and affecti⯑onate to his Prince, of any that we have ſeen for a long time. Talbot perceiv'd this as well as the reſt: But whether it was that he did not trouble himſelf about it, or that Wine which he lov'd too well, had ſunk his Judgment; He told that [26] very Day to the Marquis de Larré, at a Drinking⯑match, what had paſs'd between King James and him, adding withall, very imprudently, whether through the influence of Wine, or real Thought, That he could not imagine what that Prince mean'd to do in England; and that he was reſpected or be⯑lov'd by very few; every body almoſt being perſwad⯑ed that he was a thouſand times fitter for a Con⯑vent, than for the Throne. Next Day, the Mar⯑quis de Larré viſited the Marquis de Barbeſieux, with whom he was in Favour, and gave him an account of what paſs'd between him and Talbot, thinking, perhaps, rather to do him Service, than to injure him. For the purpoſe, he might have in his view to inform that Miniſter of his inviol⯑able Affection to the King's Service, upon the compariſon with K. James's. But the Marquis of Barbeſieux having told the Story to a Lady that he Courted, and ſhe having told it to the Queen of England; This Princeſs ſollicited the King to cauſe Talbot to be taken up. Accordingly he was taken up at Verſailles, and carried to the Baſtile, believing that a Prince of K. James's Devotion, would confine his reſentment to a few days Im⯑priſonment. But as devout People are ſeldom guilty of granting Pardons, or at leaſt, have no great Name for it; ſo he was quickly made to underſtand, that K. James had a mind to have him broke. The Dutcheſs of Tirconnel, being a Lady of Honour to the Queen of England, us'd her endeavours to prevènt the Blow, that was about to reduce that poor Gentleman to the State he was in when he came from his Mother's Belly. For tho' he had ſerv'd a long time, and had great Incomes, yet he had been ſo careleſs a Husband, that he could ſcarce raiſe two thouſand Crown [...] upon all he had. Marſhal de Noailles, who was his Friend, and under whom he had ſerv'd in Ca⯑talonia, ſollicited the King to avert the misfortune: [27] But His Majeſty reply'd, That it did not lie at his door; and that if the King and Queen of England did not deſire him to be broke, he was ſatisfied. But, at the ſame time, he juſtly blam'd him for drawing that Diſgrace upon himſelf; and the Marſhal could not excuſe it otherwiſe than upon the ſcore of Wine, which often ſinks the Reaſon of the moſt ſenſible Men. Mr. de Vendôme inter⯑ceeded likewiſe on his behalf: But 'twas all in vain: For K. James, and his Queen, made not only his Regiment, but a Penſion, that he had, to be taken from him. And thus he had the morti⯑fication of ſeeing himſelf unplum'd by one ſtroak of his Tongue of all the Fruit of his Services. And which is yet worſe, tho', at preſent, he is at liberty, I do not know that he has yet obtain'd any thing, tho' I ſee him every day going from Paris to Verſailles, and from Verſailles to St. Germains. He has been a long time, without obtaining leave of K. James, and his Queen, to come and beg their pardon; their Majeſties thinking it proper to ſhew that their Reſentment continues ſtill.

Among all this matter of Affliction, eſpecially to Talbot and Rubantel, as well as their Friends, there happened a new Scene at Paris, that may be entertaining to the Publick: The Wife of one that belonged to the Pay-Office, a very Coquette Lady in her way, had one day a mind to ride in her Coach. Her Coach-man having combin'd with ſome of her Servants to play her a trick, got upon his Coach-box, without dreſſing his Horſes, or cleaning the Coach. The Lady ask'd him what he mean'd by ſerving a Perſon of her Quality in that faſhion. Her Quality, after all, was not very great; but ſince Madam du Freſnoi, the Wife of a common Citizen's Son, when ſpeaking of her ſelf, took upon her to ſay, A Woman of my Qua⯑lity; by the ſame reaſon, this good Woman might call herſelf a Lady of Quality; for both her own, [28] and her Husband's Father, were ſomething more than the others. However, the Coach-man gave her no Anſwer, knowing that nothing provokes a Woman more than not anſwering her, whether ſhe be in the right, or the wrong. She redoubled her repri⯑mands to make him ſpeak; and finding that he was ſtill mute, attack'd him with threats and hard words: At laſt the Coach-man, very unconcernedly, anſwered her, That ſhe made a great deal of noiſe for a ſmall matter; and if ſhe would take his ad⯑vice, ſhe ſhould give over bawling, and make no more words of it. The Lady inrag'd with ſuch an inſolent Anſwer, redoubled her threats and abuſive Language: But the Coach-man having kept the beſt to the laſt, told her, That he wondered that ſuch a one as ſhe ſhould be ſo ill to pleaſe, and that ſhe was too well ſerved for a W—At that word ſhe was out of all Patience, and called up her Foot-men, who had ſheer'd off on purpoſe to have the more Diverſion by the Comedy. They ran up to her all in a heat to know her Pleaſure. She ask'd them to act for her in being reveng'd upon that inſolent Fellow. The Foot-men pretending to know nothing of the matter; ſhe gave them to know, that he had the impudence to call her W—and that the leaſt they could do was to break his Arms, or Legs: But ſhe was mightily ſurpriz'd, when, inſtead of being provok'd, as ſhe expected, they looked down. Then ſhe ask'd them what they mean'd by it? and forc'd them to ſpeak as if it had been againſt their Wills. Their Anſwer, which was much more provaking than any thing ſhe had yet heard, was, That if ſhe wanted only to have her Coach-man beaten, ſhe might go ſee for other Executioners; that they would not beat or thraſh any body without a juſt Cauſe; and that they did not take ſpeaking of the Truth to be ſuch. She reply'd, That it ſeemed they took her to be a W—as well as the Coach-man did. And they An⯑ſwer'd, [29] very freely, That they knew her to be ſuch, and were ready to witneſs it when ſhe pleas'd. This rais'd her Paſſion to that degree, that ſhe called upon the reſt of her Servants to give her the ſuc⯑cour that her Foot-men had refuſed. The firſt that appear'd was Miſtreſs Cook, who ask'd her what put her in ſuch a Paſſion; the Lady had no ſooner told her the matter, but ſhe made anſwer, That the Coach-man and Foot-men were not much to blame; and that they charg'd her with nothing that was not true. Then came in the Chamber-maid, who, not being in the Conſpiracy with the reſt, ſaid, That 'twas not worth her while to make ſo many words, and that ſhe would go and call a Commiſſary to put them all in Priſon: But that word coſt her very dear; for as ſoon as they ſaw her making ready to go out, they fell upon her, and beat her one after another. The Lady fled to her Chamber for fear they ſhould give her as much: And, at laſt, the Chamber-maid got clear, and fled likewiſe to her Chamber. Both of them bolted their doors, and continued there waiting for the Maſter of the Houſe, in order to complain of the uſage they had received. The Coach-man perceiving that his Miſtreſs was mew'd up, took the Horſes from the Coach, and curry'd them: And, in a word, did all that was to be done, in order to make it appear upon his Maſter's return, that his Miſtreſs was in the wrong. But both he, and his accom⯑plices, had us'd another precaution, that was yet better. They had complain'd four days a-go to the Commiſſary of the Ward, that ſhe would not pay them their Wages; and having, at the ſame time, given a Summons in order to have her caſt in Court, they only ſtay'd in the Houſe till the Husband came; and before his Wife could ſpeak with him, gave him to know, that they would ſtay no longer with her, becauſe they could not get a Far⯑thing out of her hands. The Husband would have [30] kept them, but they did not care to ſtay. After they were all gone, he was ſurpriz'd with an ac⯑count of the tricks they had plaid with his Wife. Had he been wiſe, he would have advis'd her not to ſpeak of the matter to any body, and would have taken the ſame advice to himſelf: But as every Man is not as wiſe as his Affairs require, ſo he was the fool to go himſelf and complain of his Servants; and thus was the firſt that divulg⯑ed what he ought to have conceal'd: But the Com⯑plaint given in by the Servants four days before, made People believe, that whatever he ſaid, was by way of Recrimination. Upon which, his Friends advis'd him to drop the thing, and make no more noiſe of it. They had much ado to perſwade him; for his Wife threw in all the fire ſhe could to diſſwade him: But at laſt, his own Reaſon con⯑vinced him, that that was his only way, unleſs he had a mind to make himſelf to be pointed at as he walked along the Streets.

As this Lady was branded for a Coquette by her Servants; ſo I preſent you with a ſtory of an⯑other, that, indeed, had not that misfortune, but was no leſs ſuch in her Husband's Opinion. Mr. Tourville, before he was made a Marſhal of France, married the Daughter of a Farmer Ge⯑neral; who was the Widdow of the Marquis of Poplinicre, the Nephew of the late Madam Col⯑bert. 'Twas a lucky hit for the Marſhal to mar⯑ry that Lady, eſpecially at the time when it hap⯑pened; for he was only a younger Brother in Normandy, and that of a Family that was in no great Circumſtances: But Fortune ſtood by him, when every body thought he was loſt. We muſt know, that after the Marquis of Seignelay, his Pro⯑tector, was Dead, he was writ to from Court, that then was the time, or never, to ſhew his mettle; for he had never given proof of it all the time that he was employ'd as a Marine. [31] This Reproach ſerv'd for a Spur that twitch⯑ed him to the Quick, inſomuch, that when he re⯑ceiv'd Orders to Fight the Enemies Fleet at any rate, he did his Duty; and tho' he was unfortu⯑nate in the way of Succeſs; yet he was there⯑upon prefer'd to that degree, that if he had ſtill been unmarried, he could, perhaps, have deſired no more of that Woman. But, whether it was that he began to ſlight her, or that, he thought, he might keep Company with Miſſes, without giv⯑ing her any diſſatisfaction; He had a ſweet Eye upon one of his Neighbours, that ſhe was as jealous of, as of another. She told him her Sentiments of the thing; and not only took the pains to undeceive him, but made a noiſe that was very troubleſome to the Lady, that ſhe deem'd her for her Rival. I cannot be poſitive upon the truth of the matter; but 'tis ſaid, that this jealous Lady acquainted the Womans Husband with the Marſhal's intimacy with her. 'Tis likewiſe Re⯑ported, that the Husband ſurprized them in a poſture that did not allow him to doubt of the information he had received. Whatever was in it, the Woman was put into a Convent; and the Marſhal, either out of the chagrin occaſion'd by her confinement, or through the diſcontent his La⯑dy had given him upon other occaſions, ſent her out of Paris to one of his own Territories. His Plea was, that ſhe would not do ſomething that he [...] deſired of her; and the pretence was the more ſpecious, that it related to his Intereſt. But the Lady bore her Baniſhment from Town the more impatiently, that ſhe was eternally galled with jealouſie, and return'd to Paris without giving him notice. She Lodged in his Apartment, de⯑ſigning to lie ſo cloſe, that he ſhould know nothing of the matter, till her own Friends, and her firſt Husband's Relations ſhould have acquainted the King with the injuſtice done her. The Marſhal's [32] Servants ſeeing her come into his Houſe, gave notice of it to their Maſter, who, without asking her the reaſon why ſhe returned without his order, complained of it to the King. At the ſame time, he deſired His Majeſty to grant him a Warrant to put her into ſome Convent, pretending, by that means, to enjoy all her Eſtate: But His Majeſty being informed of ſeveral things, would not be ſo haſty, and deſired, in the firſt place, to know the occaſion of their Divorce. The Mareſhal in⯑deavour'd, by all means, to cover and perplex the Story, and turned it upon the ſcore of Intereſt; but the King made Anſwer, That Commiſſioners ought to be appointed to inſpect which of them was in the wrong. This was all that his Lady deſir⯑ed; and thus ſhe continued at Paris in ſpight of him, and made it her buſineſs to thwart all his Intrigues.

In the mean time, his Miſſes Siſter came to be married; and that being a favourable opportunity of reconciling her to her Husband, the poor re⯑cluſe's Friends invited her to be preſent at the marriage. He was a little reſtive upon the point: However, being uneaſy in Living alone, and want⯑ing only to be urged to it, he pretended, that in marrying her, he had not received the ſame ad⯑vantages as they gave to his Siſter-in-Law. If they pleas'd, they might have given him the ſame anſwer as the Marſhal Feuillade gave one day to the Brother of Mr. Courchamp, Maſter of Requeſts, who is, at preſent, Maſter of the King's Houſhold, and Collonel of a Regiment of Foot. He had a mind to be an Enſign in the Guards, and that Mar⯑ſhal offering to ſell him a Commiſſion at double the worth, he repreſented to him, that it was not worth ſo much; upon which the Marſhal re⯑plied, That he owned it was true; but, withall, that he ought to know, that that ſort of Poſts were ſold according to the merit of thoſe that pre⯑tended [33] to buy 'em; That there was one price for a Man of Quality, and another for ſuch as he, and in effect, That neither his Phyſiognomy, nor his Air, would bring any honour to the Re⯑giment. I do not inſiſt upon the Conſideration of his Birth; for that Regiment has been fill'd, I do not know how long, with Men of the ſame Degree; and I think the Marſhal had no reaſon to inflame the price of the Commiſſion, becauſe he was only a Tradeſman's Son. But let that be as it will (as I ſaid before) the Recluſe's Rela⯑tion might have alledg'd the ſame Reaſons to her Husband: Nay, they had a better Title ſo to do; for 'tis natural to give with a Girl in Marriage, in proportion to the Circumſtances of him that Marries her. In fine, he ſtood out boldly, not⯑withſtanding that he had a mind to take his Wife home again. He was not preſent at the Mar⯑riage, which was accompanied with a ſad Scene; for the Bride's Mother, that was well but four Days before, Died the ſame day, that the Nup⯑tial Benediction was pronounced. The Bride⯑groom, who did not marry any great Beauty, was not much troubled at that Circumſtance, becauſe he had no great proſpect of Pleaſure in her Com⯑pany. His Bride's Face promiſing but little ſatiſ⯑faction, he willingly abſtain'd from the Duties of a Husband, upon the plea of the loſs of her Mother. But he could not handſomely put it off longer than the ſecond Night, at which time he was oblig'd to break the Ice: And this comforted the new married Lady, upon the loſs of the firſt Night, eſpecially conſidering, that ſhe fear'd her Deformity would have eternis'd her Affliction.

Another Lady was Married at the ſame time, that would have taken it very ill, if her Husband had thus amus'd himſelf with crying and lamentation on the Wedding-Night. 'Twas Madam Girardin, [34] the Widow of Mr. Girardin, who was firſt a Lieu⯑tenant of a Province, and after that, was ſent Am⯑baſſador to Conſtantinople. He had play'd his Game to good purpoſe; for upon the Diviſion of his Eſtate, his Widow had above a hundred thou⯑ſand Crowns for her ſhare, beſides a great quan⯑tity of Moveables, that was worth half as much. She had likewiſe a good Marriage of it, upon other ſcores, which made her bear a good Figure, inſo⯑much, that many Perſons about Court had her in their Eye: But ſhe lik'd the Marquis of Canillac better than any other of her Suitors, tho' he had nothing but his Sword to truſt to. This Lady had two Brethren, one of them Preſident to the Parliament, and the other Maſter of Requeſts, and Intendant of a Province. Fearing they would oppoſe her Marriage, if ſhe diſcovered her Deſign, ſhe reſolv'd to be Married without giving them any notice. For they were both Lawyers, and foraſmuch as that ſort of Men are very ſharp Sighted where they have any Intereſt, ſhe would not be oblig'd either to have recourſe to the King to ſtifle their Oppoſition, or to ſecure herſelf at Law. Thus was the matter concluded without their knowledge; and it happened, that on the Wedding-Day, the Intendant having arriv'd at Pa⯑ris but twenty four Hours before, ſent her word by his Foot-man, That he would come and Dine with her. The Foot-man coming to the Gate, was ſurpriz'd to find a Porter and Foot-men, with Live⯑ries different from his; and being introduc'd by one of theſe Foot-men into my Ladies Chamber, he found her a Bed with a Man: However, not knowing what the matter mean'd, and not daring to ask any of her Servants, he only deliver'd his Maſter's Compliment. The Lady made anſwer, That truly ſhe had other things to mind, than the giving his Maſter a Dinner; and that ſhe doubted if ſhe could be ſtirring, when he ſhould come to [35] Dinner. With the ſame Breath, ſhe bid him give her Brother to know, that ſhe only put off the Com⯑plment to another time; and that then ſhe would acquaint him with the Reaſon, why ſhe would not give him a meeting that day. The Air with which ſhe ſpoke theſe words, gave the Foot-man to un⯑derſtand, that ſhe lik'd the Trade ſhe had lately taken up. When he return'd, and gave his Maſter an account of all he ſaw or heard, the Intendant went immediately to impart the good News to the Preſident. The Preſident having known by Experience, what ſmall ſtreſs ought to be laid on a Woman's Prudence, took the matter at firſt to be Criminal. He thought his Siſter had en⯑tertain'd a Gallant, and told his Brother, that he would ruine h [...]r, and that they ſhould think of expedients to prevent it. The Intendant having a better Opinion of the Women, than his Brother, reply'd, That he was too forward, and that they ought not to Condemn their Siſter upon ſuch ſlight grounds; and that he believ'd ſhe was Mar⯑ried, becauſe his Foot-man ſaid, her Servants had changed their Livery. The Preſident, who upon the hopes of having a ſhare in her Succeſſion, had ſhewn his Diſpleaſure upon the apprehenſion of her entertaining a Gallant; was yet more diſguſt⯑ed when he heard of a Husband: And foraſmuch as all his remaining Comfort conſiſted in diſanul⯑ling the Marriage, in caſe ſhe had Married a Fortune-Hunter, He ſent one of his Foot-men to her Gate, to know what Name ſhe went by. But when his Foot-man return'd, and acquainted him, that her Name was Canillac, and that her Huſ⯑band was an Officer in the ſecond Company of Muſqueteers; he then was ſenſible, that he had nothing to hope for upon that ſcore.

About the ſame time, Mr. Bignon de Blanſi, Maſter of Requeſts, the Nephew of Mr Pontchar⯑train, was likewiſe married to Madam He⯑bert [36] Debuc, the Niece of Madam Pompone, and the Daughter of Mr. Hebert Debuc, Maſter of Requeſts. Mr. Blanſi was Brother to the Inten⯑dant of Piccardy. His firſt Lady was Mademoi⯑ſelle Brunet, who died in Child-bed when ſhe was but twenty two Years of Age, and left him no Iſſue. Some days after his ſecond marriage, Mr. Pontchartrain procur'd him a Commiſſion for being a Maſter of Requeſts, that might be worth two thouſand Livres a Year. He had another Com⯑miſſion before that brought him no Profit. Tho' after all, thoſe who have ſuch ſort of Places, continue ſtill to deſire them, becauſe they are not only Poſts of Honour, but make way for others that are more profitable. Mr. Pontchartrain, who commonly has the diſpoſal of that ſort of things, deſign'd this Poſt for Mr. Harouis, Son-in-Law to Mr. Richebourg, Madam Pontchartrain's Uncle, who, beſides the Honour of being her Kinſman, was thereby qualified, not only for this, but for a more conſiderable Commiſſion. Accordingly he order'd Mr. Depinet, one of his Deputies that looks after ſuch things, to make ready an Act, and carry it to the Chancellor. But this Magi⯑ſtrate having a grudge againſt Pontchartrain, in⯑ſtead of filling up the blank with Mr. Harouis his Name, according to Mr. Pontchartrain's de⯑ſire ſignfy'd to him by his Deputy, ask'd him how long a Controller General had offer'd to give Laws to a Chancellor, and at the ſame time, gave him to know, that he underſtood his own Buſineſs without being taught it, and fill'd up the Blank with the Name of Arnothon, Maſter of Requeſts. Depinot returning to Mr. Pontchar⯑train, gave him an account of the Chancellor's Compliment. Mr. Pontchartrain was unwilling to make any noiſe, tho' perhaps he had Reaſon enough, only after that he did nothing relating to his Office, without ſpeaking firſt to the King; ſo that it [37] was not in the Chancellor's Power to thwart him.

Much about the ſame time, there happen'd an⯑other marriage, which I would be loath to inſert here, if it had not given occaſion to one word that was taken notice of. Mr. de la Ferrier, the Son of that Berrier, whoſe memory is ſtill odious to all the World, tho' he has been a long time Dead: This Man married his Daughter to the Son of Des Chiens, whoſe Birth and Places bore a near re⯑ſemblance to his Father, and all that he did. For tho' he had the Impudence to ſay, that he was deſcended of a Noble Family, yet all the Country bears witneſs, that his Father, and his Anceſtors, deriv'd their Extraction from the ſcum of the People. However, Mr. de la Ferrier's Lady be⯑ing Grand-Child to the late Mr. Novion, firſt Preſident, his Alliance with that Family, of which his Lady deſcended by the Mother-ſide, was ſo monſtrous, that all the World cried out, that the Blood of the Novions was diſgrac'd, ſince, whereas it was formerly mingled with that of Luxemburg, in the Perſon of the late Count de Tremes, Father to the preſent Duke de Gevres, it was now beſtow'd upon Chiens (Dogs.) But the matter lay here; theſe Chiens were furniſh'd with Golden Teeth; and the Father had got ſo conſi⯑derably by the Places he had in this War, that the Novions were nothing near ſo conſiderable as he. This Mr. de la Ferriere, was not reckon'd a Beaſt, either in Council, or in his own Domeſtick Af⯑fairs, tho' there was a time, when he paſs'd for a Bankrupt; and upon that falſe Report, 'twas ſaid, That the King would take all his Places from him, for fear his Poverty ſhould tempt him to be unjuſt in the diſcharge of his Offices. But if we may credit what happen'd ſoon after the mar⯑riage of his Daughter, to whom he gave nothing; all this pretended Poverty was only a faint, to [38] impoſe upon the Publick; for his Brothers, with whom he was at law for their Portions, preſent⯑ed a Requeſt to the Judges, ſetting forth, That their Father had left an Eſtate of two millions of money, which he was actually poſſeſs'd of; and that their Eldeſt Brother kep [...] it up, without doing them Juſtice. This Petition made his Creditors very uneaſy. They alledg'd, That ſince his own Brethren had thus inform'd againſt him, the Council before which they pleaded, and which he endeavour'd to move to Compaſſion, by his pretended Poverty, ought not to have any re⯑gard to his Allegations, for depriving them of their Right. In former times, Cardinal Mazarin made uſe of much ſuch another Argument to ruine Mr. Fouquet; for Abbot Fouquet his Brother revil'd him horridly; and whenever any-body offer'd to plead for him, the Cardinal made Anſwer, That they did not know Mr. Fouquet ſo well as his Brother; and that by conſequence, his Teſtimony was preferable to theirs. And, in effect, the Ab⯑bot, who was an odd ſort of a Man, being at once the greateſt Braggadochio, and the greateſt Coward in the World: This Abbot, I ſay, had a great hand in ruining the Super-Intendant. He preſented Memorials againſt him; and 'tis well known what weight they were of, when the queſtion was put, Whether he ſhould be Arreſted or not. This Abbot was ſuch a Vaunting Fel⯑low, that he pretended he would take the Prince, and the Marſhal of H [...]quincourt, by the Beard, to make them repent of their taking up Arms a⯑gainſt the King. But on the ſame very day, that Barbeſieres came from [...]l [...]nders, on purpoſe to car⯑ry off the Father of Mr. Girardin mention'd above, who was a famous Partiſan, ſome-body came and told the Abbot, that the Prince had ſent out a Party to take him up, having heard the Stories he had ſpoke of him; and thus put him in ſuch [39] a Fear, that he durſt not venture to go out of Paris, without a ſtrong Guard.

Soon after all theſe Marriages, a Sentence of Baniſhment was granted againſt Medemoiſelle de Varennes, a Lady of Quality, in the Country of Maine, who was more known by the Affection that great Prelate had for her, than by the Reputation of her Anceſtors. 'Twas ſaid, that this Affecti⯑on was the effect of Amorous Embraces; and that her Friend before his Death, adviſed her to marry ſome Perſon of Quality, that had no⯑thing, upon Condition, that he ſhould own her Children to be his. He had made her ſo rich by his Bounty, that he thought ſhe was in a Condi⯑tion to tempt every body. 'Tis true, there were a great many poor Wretches, that would have been glad of ſuch an adventure. But 'twas not that ſort of Men, that ſhe had a mind to: Not⯑withſtanding the ſcandalous terms, ſhe pretended ſtill to have her choice, and receiv'd Viſits from all the Court, in a Houſe of hers, that reſembled an inchanted Palace. To carry on the Wheedle the better, ſhe entertain'd them very handſomly, and in Lent regal'd them with Meat, notwithſtand⯑ing the King's Orders to the contrary. For His Majeſty, to put a ſtop to all manner of Libertiniſm, had order'd, that only thoſe, who were ſickly, or otherwiſe incommoded, ſhould have liberty to eat Meat with the Church's Permiſſion; and that they ſhould not let any body ſhare with them, under the pain of incurring his Diſpleaſure. But, tho' Madam Varennes was far from that Condition, being in very good Health, yet ſhe not only eat of it herſelf, but invited all her Viſiters to eat with her. The King got notice of this, and ſent her a Letter under the great Seal, to be gone. Her Friends promis'd her a Grant of ſome time be⯑fore ſhe went into Exile: But inſtead of mak⯑ing preparations for her Departure, ſhe promis'd a [40] thouſand Piſtols to Count Gramont for procuring a Revocation of the Sentence. Count Gramont being a Perſon that ſubſiſts only by the King's Bounty, and at ſuch Wind-falls does not uſe to be aſleep: This Count, I ſay, did not pretend to deny the thing to the King, that being the wrong way to compaſs his Deſign; but repreſented to His Majeſty, That the Lady being ſet all-alone at Ta⯑ble, where ſhe fed upon Mear, purſuant to a per⯑miſſion ſhe had from the Curate, ſome people came in and ſurpriz'd her, and, in ſpite of her Teeth, ſat down with her; that this was no in⯑fraction upon the deſign of His Majeſty's Or⯑der, and that all the World might be catched in the ſame Trap, as well as ſhe, without they kept their Gates ſhut at Meal-times, as in a Convent. In fine, he pleaded her Cauſe with ſuch dexterity, that the King granted his Requeſt, upon a pro⯑miſe, that the Lady would be more cautious for the future. Then the Marquis of Vieuxburg be⯑gan to declare himſelf a Sui [...]r to the fair Lady, tho' he could not well do it without a breach of Faith to Mademoiſelle de Bulli, a Lady of Qua⯑lity, near Neuchatel in Normandy, to whom he had given a Promiſe of Marriage. He was the Son of the Chancellor's Lady; and having loſt his Eldeſt Brother at the Siege of Namur, car⯑ried on by the Enemies, ſucceeded to his Eſtate, which was not inconſiderable. The good Name he had in that Province, together with this Suc⯑ceſſion, and a little Honour, if he had had any, ought to have deterr'd him from ſo ſcandalous an Alliance: But this Lady having inchanted him, he open'd his mind to her; and by the diſcovery of his Deſign, pleas'd her ſo well, that ſhe offer'd to give him all ſhe had, provided he Married her. In effect, the buſineſs was kept private for ſome time; and in the mean time, the Chancellor's La⯑dy happening to die, both of them were ſenſible [41] that it was a favourable accident for them, in re⯑g [...]rd ſhe would never have ſuffered her Son to be guilty of that Folly, in her Life-time. The Chan⯑cellor, who had been kept ignorant of his Lady's illneſs for ſome days, and hinder'd from going to her Chamber, under the pretence of ſome preju⯑dice that might thereby accrue to either of their Healths: This Magiſtrate, I ſay, gave his Lady a magnificent Funeral. In the mean time, he went and ſpent ſome days with the Preſident Fourci, and after that return'd to his own Houſe, and recom⯑menc'd the exerciſe of his Office, which has this privilege beyond all others, That thoſe who are inveſted with it, never wear mourning, either for their Relations, or for the King himſelf. Mon⯑ſieur, and Mr. de Chartres, gave him a Viſit to Solace him upon his Loſs. The next day the Pope's Nuncio came to his Houſe, and every body thought he had come upon the ſame Errand. But tho' the meaſures of Civility requir'd that Com⯑pliment, eſpecially ſince he came to the Chancel⯑lor's own Houſe; yet he made him another, that quickly diſcover'd the chief reaſon of his coming. However, it was not diſagreeable; for after having aſſur'd him of the Pope's Reſpect for him, and his Family, He preſented to him a Brief from His Holineſs, permitting the ſecond Son of Ma⯑dam Harlai, his Daughter, to poſſeſs all ſorts of Abbeys, even thoſe mortgag'd to Regulars, tho' he was then but nine Years of Age. The reaſon that mov'd the Pope to this Diſpenſation, was ſet forth in the Brief. It imported, that his Holi⯑neſs was infinitely glad to hear that Mr. Harlai was gone from France, upon a deſign of making a ge⯑neral Peace; and that His Holineſs thought him⯑ſelf oblig'd to teſtify this his Joy, by granting that favour to his Son. But after all, the Holy Father had not taken up this deſire of giving Peace to Chriſtendom, till the King was expell'd Italy [42] by the Savoy-Treaty, under the pretence, that Ita⯑ly would always be fetter'd, ſo long as His Ma⯑jeſty was poſſeſs'd of any thing on that ſide. Thus Popes, Kings, and great Folks, talk as they will; tho' at the ſame time they are glad to inſinuate to others, that they deſign nothing but what will redound to the advantage of thoſe who are ſubject to them.

Count Marſan, the Youngeſt Brother of all the Princes of the Houſe of Lorraine, who married the Marchioneſs of Siegnelay, after the Duke of Luxemburg broke off from her, got at that time a Penſion of Twenty thouſand Livers. This was matter of ſurpriſal to every-body, not only by rea⯑ſon of the ſmall Service he had ever done to the State, but becauſe he had always a ſorry Intereſt at Court. For the purpoſe. When he married the Marchioneſs of Albret, Widow to the Mar⯑quis of Albret, Marſhal de Camp, who was kill'd when he went to ſee his Miſtreſs; at that time, the King turn'd that Lady out of the Queen's Retinue; not that ſhe had done any thing de⯑ſerving that diſgrace; but only, becauſe ſhe had married a Man that the King did not like. The reaſon of the King's diſlike, was grounded on his having ſome intrigue with a Young Prince, that His Majeſty took care of, and his being charg'd with cajoling and wheedling a Young Princeſs, that he was equally concern'd for. But after all, he found ways and means to attone for all that; and upon that ſcore was oblig'd to his Lady, who has Friends of Intereſt and Credit. At preſent, he enjoys above fifty thouſand Crowns a Year, tho' before his firſt marriage, he was not worth a Groat; and juſt now he has bought one of the fineſt Houſes in Paris. He had it from Preſident Tam⯑bonneau; and that Magiſtrate bore ſome hard words from the firſt Preſident, upon the account of ſome Difficulties relating to the execution of the [43] Bargain. That Houſe had formerly a large Gar⯑den to it, part of which Mr. Tombonneau cut off, and joyn'd it to another Houſe of his; and Count Marſan alledg'd, That tho' that part was cut off by a particular clauſe, Calculated for that pur⯑poſe; yet at that time, it ought to be undone, becauſe it return'd naturally to the purchaſe to which it had always belong'd. They agreed to leave the matter to the Arbitration of the firſt Pre⯑ſident. But whether this Magiſtrate was partial, or thought it was juſtice to give it againſt Tom⯑banneau, He deliver'd his mind in ſuch harſh terms, as inſinuated, that he had over-reach'd Count Marſan. 'Twas ſome time before Mr. Tam⯑bonneau would agree to his Verdict; but at laſt the matter was accommodated; and at this day, Count Marſan lives in that fine Houſe. Mr. Pont⯑chartrain had a mind for the Houſe; but being a Man of a different ſtamp from ſome Miniſters, who do not grudge to give any price for what they like, he could not come up to Mr. Tomban⯑neau's price. To be plain, when a Man throws away his money at ſuch a rate, 'tis a ſign he comes eaſily by it; whereas good Husbandry ſpeaks a fair purchaſe.

The Princeſs of Harcourt, whoſe Husband is of the ſame Family with Count Marſan, but not [...]ear ſo Rich, loſt at that time, a Law-Suit with Madam Nemours, which ſhe thought ſhe had been ſure of. 'Twas laid before the Council, and related to the Regiſter of Lions, which ſhe juſtly alledg'd to have been the property of her Grand-Fa⯑ther, by the Mother's-ſide. This her Grand-Father was the famous Farmer of the Revenue, call'd Garnier, who, tho' he was Born to very little, had got ſuch a vaſt Eſtate, that he might have boaſted of greater matters than Sebaſtian Zamer did in former times; for whereas this Man en⯑titled himſelf, a Maſter of five hundred thouſand [44] Crowns, the other might have pretended to ſix⯑teen millions. He was effectually poſſeſs'd of eight millions clear of the beſt money in the World, and the King owed him as much. But ſoon after Mr. Fouquet was catch'd, the Court of Juſtice came upon him, and there he was Taxed in proportion to what he had got, ſo that his whole Fortune was melted in a moment. By good luck he had married a whole Regiment of Daughters very handſomely; and having pay'd their Portions in ready money, Mr. Colbert, who rak'd into the very Branches of Families, could find no plea to ſuck out the Blood, that they en⯑deavour'd to maintain their Honour with. The Princeſs of Harcourt's Mother, who was married to Count Brancas, Gentleman of Honour to the Queen's Mother, had thus eſcaped that Miniſter's ſcrutiny, becauſe all her Portion was money paid down. However, her Daughter was of the ſame Humour with her Grand-Father, ſo that it was not long of her, if ſhe was not Rich. She loſt the above-mentioned Suit only by one Vote, which ſhe thought ought to have leſt oppos'd her. Hav⯑ing always been very careful in making intereſt with the Miniſters, ſhe hop'd that Mr. Pontchar⯑train, who was one of the Judges, would favour her; But equity prevailing with honeſt Men, be⯑yond all other Conſiderations, he was one of thoſe that caſt her. Tho' after all, when he was ask'd wherein Madam Nemours's Cauſe had the advantage of hers, He reply'd, That he could not well tell; and that if he had thought the reſt would have been of his mind, he would have manag'd that Cauſe like the Oyſter in Boileau's Satyrs, in giving the two Shells to the two Prin⯑ceſſes, and the fleſhy part to the King, becauſe the property conteſted by them, belong'd in effect only to His Majeſty. The Princeſs of Harcourt, who will never loſe any thing for want of a vi⯑gorous [45] defence, does not yet give her Cauſe over for loſt; and having ſometimes been lucky in Law-Suits, ſhe hopes to have the ſame good For⯑tune in this. But ſince her Fortune has been out of her Hands theſe twelve or fifteen Years, 'tis not probable that 'twill ever return to her. She made a ſhift, by the intereſt of one of her Friends, to perſwade Mademoiſelle de Guiſe, to give her Husband the Dukedom of Guiſe, and Guiſe-houſe, which were worth at leaſt three millions. The procuring of this favour had coſt the Prince of Harcourt ſome Compliments and Addreſſes to his Benefactreſs: But his Humour being not ſo pliable as his Lady's, he re-aſſum'd his Character, when he thought the buſineſs was done. Madam Guiſe complain'd of this to the Friend that had acted the part of a Mediator; and he being not able to perſwade the Prince to continue his Viſits, ſhe reſum'd her Gift. This Thunder-ſtruck his Lady, who upon this Affair had diſplay'd her ut⯑moſt proueſs. However, ſhe is to be commended for managing ſo wiſely the Affairs of her Family, which her Husband neglects. He minds nothing but his Diverſion, while ſhe ſcrapes up money to pay a Penſion, that ſhe's oblig'd to give him upon the conſideration of his having turn'd over all his Eſtate to her. But the Times we live in being ſo unhappy, that little can be made of a Land-E⯑ſtate, ſhe would find it very hard to do what ſhe does, if ſhe did not find ways of getting of ſome⯑thing from time to time. She neglects no oppor⯑tunity, ſmall or great, it never ſcapes her, provided ſhe has any proſpect of ſucceſs.

About that time, the Court was very hot upon the execution of a project, that had been propoſ⯑ed by ſeveral Perſons a long time before; I mean that of taking Carthagena, where the Banks of ſeveral Nations were lodg'd, as well as part of the Riches of Perou. In the beginning of the [46] War, a Rochel-Man, call'd Petit, was taken up, who had gone to Holland, and there abjur'd his Religion, upon the perſwaſion of his Wife; and after her Death had return'd to France. He was well vers'd in Sea-Affairs; and having been im⯑ploy'd by the Dutch, orders were given to take him Dead or Alive. Mr. Vilette, a Lieutenant-General at Sea, was imploy'd to execute the Or⯑ders; and, indeed, he once made up ſo cloſe to him, that he thought to have given a good account of him: But Petit being on Board of a better Sai⯑ler, than any of the Lieutenant-General's Ships, he luckily got off; tho ſome time after, he de⯑liver'd himſelf into the Hands of the Governor of Vallenciennes, who gave notice of the ſame to the Court. In regard, he return'd with a re⯑ſolution to re-aſſume his wonted Religion and O⯑bedience, and had ſpoke ſo to ſome People, who had acquainted the Miniſters with it; they could not handſomely indite him, but contented them⯑ſelves with ſecuring his Perſon in the Baſtille; that being thought neceſſary, for that after ſuch an eſcape as his, 'twas to be feared he might do the like again, if ever he fell into the Hands of ſuch a Woman as his firſt Wife was. His Im⯑priſonment was a great ſurprizal to him: How⯑ever, having time enough in Priſon to think of his Concerns, he bethought himſelf, that he would never be ſet at Liberty, unleſs he attoned for his Crime, by ſome great piece of Service. Having conſidered again and again of the mat⯑ter, and being well acquainted with the Coaſt where Carthagena lies; he lit upon the ſame Thought as others had before him. He was of Opinion, That 'twas not impoſſible for the King to make himſelf Maſter of that place, and even of—which is yet Richer, and, as it were, the Magazine of all the Riches of Perou. Having hatch [...]d this Thought, his next buſineſs was to [47] give it vent; for which end, he asked to ſpeak with Mr. Beſmaux, Governor of the Baſtille. But whether the Governor thought the Man was troubled with maggoty Fancies, or whether he had no mind to be himſelf an inſtrument of loſing his Priſoners, by whoſe maintenance he got a great deal, and for that reaſon called them his Pigeons; Whatever was in it, he would not al⯑low him Paper to expreſs his Thoughts upon, but only promiſed to ſpeak of his Project to a Mini⯑niſter of State. Tho' after all, 'tis very likely he did not that; for 'tis plain, that, if he had, Mr. Pontchartain, who had the management of Marine. Affairs, was too good a Servant of the King's, to neglect ſuch a propoſal as that. The Priſoner re⯑ceiving no Anſwer, notwithſtanding the Gover⯑nor's Promiſe to bring him one; cut off the Mar⯑gins of a Book that he had, and having made ſome Ink of Soot or Charcoal, wrote down his Project, together with ſeveral other things, that then came into his Head. He had not well finiſh⯑ed his Scheme, when Marſhal Tourville came to the Baſtille to try ſome Cannon of a new inven⯑tion. The Cannon were fired into the Ditch, which the Priſoner obſerving through the Grates of the Chamber, threw out his Paquet well wrap⯑ed up. It fell at the Marſhal's Feet, who have⯑ing time to read the Superſcription, viz. To Mar⯑ſhal Tourville, upon Affairs of great conſequence relating to the Sea. This Pacquet to be delivered to Mr. Pontchartrain. Having read, I ſay, this Superſcription, he refufed to deliver it to Mr. Beſmaux, who ask'd it of him. The Governor indeavour'd to perſwade him to it; by ſetting forth, That a Miniſter whoſe time was ſo preci⯑ous, ought not to be diſturb'd with idle Whims; that probably there was nothing in the Pacquet, but ſuch Vapours as the damps of a Priſon are apt to excite; and that for his part, he was teaz'd [48] every day with ſuch things, but that he never minded them. Mr. Tourville looking up to the Window where the Pacquet fell, ask'd him, who was in that Chamber? Mr. Beſmaux made An⯑ſwer, That 'twas a Rochel Renegado, without tel⯑ling his Name: But the Marſhal knowing that Petit was Priſoner in the Caſtle, and taking that to be his Apartment, told the Governor, that ſince the Pacquet came from ſo good a place, he was ob⯑liged to give it to Mr. Pontchartrain. Accordingly he gave it to him; and that Miniſter having pe⯑rus'd it, found ſome things in it better explain'd than in the other Memorials that had formerly been given in upon that Subject. Then he let the matter ſleep for a while, in order to digeſt things more maturely; and at laſt ſpoke of it in private to ſome Sea-Officers, that he thought ca⯑pable to reſolve ſome Doubts he had upon that Head. Some of them repreſented it as impoſ⯑ſible; and others as a very dangerous enterprize; only Mr. Pointis ſpoke of it as an eaſy thing, be⯑cauſe he wanted to be imploy'd in the Expedition. One muſt be prepoſſeſs'd with an expectation of ſucceſs in any Enterprize, in order to go through with it. Accordingly, in ſeveral Conferences be⯑tween that Miniſter, and Pointis, the latter ap⯑pear'd ſtill more and more forward, and remov⯑ed ſeveral Difficulties, that the other look'd up⯑on as very conſiderable: So great an itch had Pointis to ſignalize himſelf in that Expedition. But Glory was not the only motive in his view; he had another that weigh'd as much with him, tho' it was not altogether ſo Honourable. He was in Love with Preſident Ferrand's Daughter, and neither of them having any Eſtate, in the ardour of his Paſſion to enjoy her, he thought no Wall whatſoever would ſtand before him. Mr. Pontchartrain perceiving that he was the Man he wanted, and that he could never find another [49] that would carry on the Enterprize with ſo much heat: Upon this conſideration, I ſay, he gave him a Promiſe of being imploy'd upon that Deſign. Pointis recounted the Affair to his Mi⯑ſtreſs, and among many other ſweet words told her, That ſhe ſhould have the Triumph of that Place; that for his part, all his Ambition was, to lay at her Feet, all the Riches that the Expedition ſhould afford; and that he accounted himſelf but too happy, if by that means he could procure her favour. While he was thus taken up in Court⯑ſhip, Mr. Ponchartrain went effectually about the buſineſs. There being a neceſſity of an infinite ſum of money, to anſwer the Charge that His M [...]jeſty was at upon other accounts: He had a mind that this Expedition ſhould coſt the King nothing. With this view, by the King's permiſ⯑ſion, he erected a Company, which advanc'd the money for carrying on the Expedition, upon Con⯑dition of receiving the Profits that ſhould accrue by it; ſome put in a thouſand Piſtols, ſome more, ſome leſs; the Fleet was got ready, and Mr. Pointis put to Sea, when no body knew where he was going. The Engliſh thought he had a de⯑ſign upon their Poſſeſſions in Carolina, and gave the neceſſary Orders to prevent it. The Dutch were apprehenſive of a deſign upon them. How⯑ever, Mr. Pontis fell in upon Carthagena, all on a ſudden, when the Spaniards leaſt expected it, and Landed there ſome Soldiers that he had brought with him. At the ſame time, the Governor of St. Domingo, being acquainted with the Deſign, brought ſome Buckaneers to aſſiſt at the Siege. Pointis ſtood much in need of them, and without them he had never compaſs'd his end. But they were ſo diſſatisfied upon the ſmall ſhare they had of the Booty, that they firſt complain'd to him, and then threaten'd openly to ſend ſome body to Court, to demand juſtice of him. He laugh'd, both at [50] their Complaints and Threats, fancying, that his ſucceſs would procure him a hearing to their pre⯑judice. There was an immenſe quantity of Riches in that City, both in Bars of Silver, Gold-duſt, and pretious Stones: And he did not neglect his own Coffers, no more than ſome Captains of Ships, whoſe Avarice was more notorious than his own: For on Board of one of them, there was found Effects, to the value of eighty thouſand Crowns; he having converted the money into Goods, which he was afterwards oblig'd to convert into money again. Others were likewiſe convicted of having endeavour'd to enrich themſelves upon the Com⯑pany's Charges, while it was only ſuſpected. But ſince Malice and Calumny is very forward, e⯑ſpecially upon ſuch things, for which every Man is believed to have a good Appetite; 'twould not be juſt to be poſitive in the Accuſation. In that City, there was a Young Man, who was the Son of the Governor of Lima; and, by his Folly, had a mind to furniſh thoſe who vented Romances, with Truths inſtead of their ordinary Fables. He was ſeiz'd with a Paſſion of Love for the Prin⯑ceſs of Conti, the King's Daughter, upon ſeeing her Picture, which fell accidentally into his Hands, by an Engagement with the Buccaneers: He found it in the Arms of one that was Kill'd, and preſently took it into his own, as being a Trea⯑ſure that he eſteem'd more than the Pearls and Diamonds he had found among the Spoil. Ne⯑ver were ſuch Follies committed, as that young Fool was guilty of, after the ſight of that Pi⯑cture; every day he kiſſed it a thouſand times, and he never ingaged, without invoking it before hand, as the only Deity that could aſſiſt him. [...] good Fortune he had, he imputed it all to it, which enlarged his eſteem of it more and more. But at laſt being over-power'd in an En⯑g [...]gement with a King, in the Neighbourhood of [51] his Father's Government; the King, as barbarous as he was, lov'd the Picture as paſſionately as he, As ſoon as he caſt his Eyes upon it, he ask'd. What Picture it was, and would have ſnatch'd it from him: Upon that, he threw himſelf at the King's Feet, conjuring him to take his Life, be⯑fore he robb'd him of his Picture. The Conqueror ſeeing him in ſo humble a Poſture, took pity of him, and offer'd to let him keep his Picture, pro⯑vided he gave him to know the Original. The Young Gentleman reply'd, That he could not ſa⯑tisfie him upon that point, becauſe he did not know himſelf whoſe it was: And with the ſame Breath, acquainted him how it came into his Hands, and offer'd to get it Copy'd. The Prince was ſo much taken with the Beauty of the Pi⯑cture, that he caus'd ſeveral Copies to be drawn from it: Theſe he order'd to be hung up in the Temples of his falſe Gods, in order to adore the Original, which he thought could not be ſo pret⯑ty, unleſs ſhe were Divine. The Young Gentle⯑man having thus ſav'd his Picture, was afraid of loſing it at Carthagena, when Mr. Pointis took it; Fancying, that all the World were as great Fools as he, and the Prince that made an Idol of it. The firſt Compliment he made to Mr. Poin⯑tis, was, That by the right of Conqueſt, he was Maſter of all that he had; but as for that Pi⯑cture, he would part with it and his Life at the ſame time. Mr. Pointis was ſo much dazzl'd with the proſpect of the Riches that lay before him, that he had forgot every thing, and even Madam Ferrand; and thus having other things in view than the Picture, he gave him to know, that he might be eaſie, and what Pictures he had a mind for, were thoſe of the King of Spain, and other Princes, engrav'd upon Gold; and as for the Pictures of Women, he would quit them for a trifle, 'provided they were only valuable [52] for their Beauty, or good Painting. This Pro⯑miſe put the Young Gentleman in good Heart: And Mr. Pointis having cloy'd himſelf with the Plunder of the Town, had the curioſity to look upon the Thing that occaſioned the Spaniard's Sighs: for he gave deep Sighs every minute, which made people believe, that he was a very p [...]on [...]te Lov [...]r. He ſhew'd Mr. Pointis the Picture, upon his making Oath, that he would not f [...]ll in Love with it. As ſoon as Mr. Pointis ſaw it, he knew it to be the Princeſs of Conti's, and [...], he knew the Lady, and that his Love was fixed upon a very deſerving Object. The Young Gentleman preſſing him to tell who the Lady was, he could not deny his Requeſt. Up⯑on this Diſcovery, it had been very unhandſome in ſuch a Lover as this, not to go to France. Ac⯑cord [...]ngly he intreated Mr. Pointis, to let him have a place in one of his Ships. Mr. Pointis having promiſed him that Favour, did not make him ſtay long [...] he ſet Sail: but tho' the Sea-Air c [...]ld the Gentleman's Paſſion for his Miſtreſs, the Admiral round himſelf in a greater quandary than the Gentleman. An Engliſh Squadron, much ſtronger th [...]n his own, having notice, that he was ſtill [...] Carthagena, ſtood towards that place, in order to diſpoſſeſs him of the Riches he had p [...]llag [...]d. The Governor of St. Domingo, who had [...] to his Government, and was not w [...]ll pleaſed with the Uſage that he and the Buc⯑ [...]eers h [...] met with, did nevertheleſs give him Advice of their Deſign, becauſe it concern'd the King's [...]ntereſt. Mr. Pointis made ſuch good uſe of the Intelligence, that he weigh'd Anchor and avoided the Engliſh, and at laſt arriv'd at Breſt, [...]fter having ſ [...]ap'd ſeveral Storms, and other troubleſome Accidents.

[53] Before his arrival at Breſt, ſeveral Accidents hap⯑pen'd both at Sea and Land. The moſt conſiderable Occurrence at Sea, was Mr. Neſmond's falling in with three Engliſh Ships, homeward bound from India. They made a tolerable Defence, but be⯑ing unequally match'd, i. e. three to ſix, they were taken. All the three were richly Laden; and Mr. Neſmond having put Mr. Montchevreuil with one Bene, an Iriſh man, both of 'em Sea-Lien tenants, on board of one of theſe Ships; theſe two plotted together to defraud the Owners of the Prize, while no-body minded 'em. Accordingly they ſecur'd all they could; and ſhar'd ſome Di⯑amonds, and other valuable Goods, equally be⯑tween 'em. But Mr. Montchevreuil's Indiſcretion, in ſpending at Breſt much more than his Incomes could afford, quickly diſcovered the Intrigue: His Father allowed him nothing; and all he had was a Penſion of one thouſand Livers, and his E⯑quipage. Upon this, Intendant Begnon ſmelling the matter, gave notice of it to the Court. His Intereſt at Court might have prevented his Ar⯑reſt, if Mr. Begnon's Intelligence had not been put out of all doubt, by his imprudence, in ſet⯑ting out his very Foot-men with the beſt Muſ [...]ins he had taken in that Ship. Bene, indeed, acted more prudently; and it was not long of him that the thing took Air: But Mr. Montchevreuil's im⯑prudence carried it ſo far, that they were both taken up. Bene, who had not ſo much Intereſt as the other, could not get off, notwithſtanding the Wiſdom of his Conduct. Begnon wrote him a thundring Note, concluding in theſe few words, You are happy in having Mr. Montchevreuil for a Partner in your Robbery; Aſſure your ſelf, that if you were by your ſelf, I would have ca [...]s [...]d you to be Hang'd in forty eight Hours. At the Mari [...]es interceeded on his behalf, becauſe he was a good Officer; but foraſmuch as the one could [54] not be indited without the other, they were both clear'd after five or ſix months Impriſonment. But after all, if all the Thieves had been Hang⯑ed, Bene had got more Company than Mr. Mont⯑chevreuil: For at the Sale of theſe Prizes, which amounted in Groſs to 2500000 Livres, a great many things were tranſacted, that were not very fair. Thoſe who had a mind to 'em, gave a large Preſent to the perſons that were empower⯑ed to adjudge 'em, to prevent their being ſold by Retail, purſuant to the deſire of thoſe who were intereſs'd in the matter. But whatever the Preſent was, they loſt nothing by it; for at Nants they ſold the Goods by Retail, at three Millions profit.

In the mean time, the Archbiſhop of Paris im⯑ploy'd his utmoſt endeavours, to make good the Character the King had procur'd him, by giving him that rich Benefice. Tho' his Brother's For⯑tune might have done ſomething for him, yet he did not owe his Preferment to that, but only to his own Merit. While he was Biſhop of Cha⯑lons, a See that he had before his acceſſion to that of Paris, he always acted up to the Office of a Holy Prelate. To continue the ſame courſe of Piety that he had always follow'd, he made Head a⯑gainſt Vice: And accordingly one of his firſt Edicts, after his acceſſion to the laſt See, was levell'd againſt the Maſquerades; an Abuſe, that in earneſt ought not to be ſuffer'd among Chriſtians. What a ſtrange preparation is the Commiſſion of a thou⯑ſand lewd and fooliſh Actions, for the Repent⯑ance that ought to be Preach'd up in Lent! The Emperor extirpated this diſorder at Vienna, under the ſole pretext of the War with the Turks. Nobody was there allow'd to diſguiſe themſelves; and even School-Boys were not allow'd to do it with impunity. However, the Archbiſhop not uſing the ſame pretence to ſink that diſorder at [55] Paris, but that of the Love and Gratitude we owe to God, for ſhedding his Blood for us upon the Croſs, had not the ſame ſucceſs as the Empe⯑ror had at Vienna. If he had had recourſe to the King, for the putting his Edict in execution, per⯑haps the fear of diſpleaſing that Monarch would have gone farther, than the fear of God. But whether it was, that he did not ſpeak of it to the King, or that the King had ſome Reaſons of State for not minding him; there was as many Maſquerades that Year, as if there had never been an Order againſt 'em. The Archbiſhop finding he could not compaſs his deſign, bent his Thoughts upon another Diſorder, that wanted as much to be remedy'd; I mean the Debauchery of Women: that was got to ſuch a height, that no Language can reach. There was always two Convents at Paris, for ſhutting up theſe Wretches; and two Societies have been ſince Erected, for the ſame purpoſe, by the Care and Charity of ſome Ver⯑tuous Ladies. In theſe Societies, they are far from being uſed ſo ſeverely, as at the Magdalon⯑nettes, and Filles Repent [...], where the Whips are [...]o far from freeing a So [...]l from Vice, that, on the contrary, they make 'em regret, that they cannot continue their paſt courſe of Life. We muſt not pretend to tranſlate a Perſon all on a ſudden, from Vice to Vertue, eſpecially by Cor⯑rection; for that ought to be effected by degrees, and rather by Perſwaſion, than by Force. This gentle method was uſed in theſe two Societies; one of which is call'd St. Iſidore, and the other Bon Poſt [...]ur. The latter had this peculiar Cuſtom, that they forc'd none to come among 'em. All the Actions of that Houſe, were anſwerable to its Title. The Girls that repented of their Lewdneſs, or were afraid of falling into it, came thither of their own accord, and were entertain'd there as long as they pleas'd; and their Governantes ei⯑ther [56] procur'd 'em ſome Place in a Perſon of Qua⯑lity's Houſe, if they were fit for Service, or got 'em Husbands, if they lik'd that better. When they deſired to be gone, they were ſuffered to go, tho' 'twas to be fear'd, they might return to their Vomit. This Society, and this Cuſtom is ſtill kept up; and all pious Perſons, of what Condi⯑tion ſoever, not only viſit theſe loſt Sheep, that are thus return'd to their Flock, but likewiſe Eat with 'em very often. This they take to be a more effectual method, as indeed it is, to reclaim them, than that of letting Dogs looſe upon 'em. And 'tis for this reaſon that the Houſe is entitl'd Bon Paſteur, The good Shepherd; for the Good Shep⯑herd, who, properly ſpeaking, is the Son of God, did not ſcruple to eat with Publicans.

As for the Daughters of St. Iſidore, they were not uſed ſo very gently, as thoſe of the Bon Paſteur; but kept a ſort of a Medium between theſe and the Magdalonnettes. The Archbiſhop, whoſe Province it is to take Cogniſance of all that paſſes in that ſort of Houſes, knowing that theſe liv'd under a Director, whoſe Doctrine he ſuſpected, would have taken them from him. But they ſtood by him with ſome warmth; and the more they ſhew'd their zeal to keep him, the more the Archbiſhop preſſed to put another in his place. At laſt, they told him freely, That if he put in another, they would not receive him, and that they would ra⯑ther diſperſe than comply with it. Now they had liberty to diſperſe, for they were not ſettled there, either by the King's Letter, or an Order from the Court of Juſtice. Accordingly, perceiv⯑ing that the Archbiſhop was immoveable, and fully reſolv'd to ſubject them to his Obedience, they actually diſpers'd; for which the Archbiſhop was blam'd by a great many, eſpecially by thoſe who were not acquainted with the reaſon, that had oblig'd him to do as he did.

[57] At that time, Mr. Verthamont de Villemont dyed, who was the only Man that perhaps made the King depart from his wonted Moderation. He was Maſter of Requeſts; and making uſe of the Authority he had among the Gown-men, both by his Place, and by the numerouſneſs of his Rela⯑tions and Friends, did what he could to Ruine a Gentleman of the Name of Servon, that had been his Neighbour in the Country. Servon being Re⯑lated to Mr. Perefixe, Archbiſhop of Paris, had recourſe to him, who engag'd to protect him, af⯑ter he found that Magiſtrate ſo proud of his Intereſt, that he openly contemn'd both his Friend and him. Verthamont finding that the Archbiſhop had declar'd againſt him, and that he had imbark'd in that Cauſe for the ſake of ſome Intereſt of his own, form'd a deſign againſt his Life, and alledg'd, that he had a Love int [...]gue upon that ſide. On the other hand, the Archbiſhop form'd a deſign againſt his Life. Thus th [...] rais'd between 'em the greateſt Suit that had [...]en ſeen for a long time; and the Cauſe being [...]ought before the Council, the King himſelf a [...]d at the Deciſion; which Mr. Villemont, who knew his Integrity and Juſtice, was not pleas'd with. The Archbiſhop being ſenſible that his Honour was very much touch'd by the Accuſation prefer'd againſt him by that Magiſtrate; and that 'twas not enough for him to maintain, that it was an Impoſture, as it was, but to prove it to be ſuch; upon this view I ſay, he deſir'd him to condeſcend to the Circum⯑ſtances of the Fact, in order to his Conviction. Accordingly Verthamont advanc'd, That on ſuch a Day, at ſuch an Hour, in ſuch a Year, and at ſuch a Place, he had an interview with a certain Lady, whom it was well known he had formerly viſited with ſome ſort of Familiarity. Now, Mr. Perefixe was at that time at Rhodes, of which he was Biſhop before his Acceſſion to the See of [58] Paris; and for fear Verthamont ſhould retract and throw his miſtake upon the weakneſs of his Me⯑mory; he pretended at firſt to make but weak Defences, in order to make the other maintain his Forgery with more Impudence. This Verthamont did not fail to do; for fancying that the whole Court was on his ſide, the Anſwers being ſo fri⯑volous, he inſiſted on the Charge, becauſe the Archbiſhop had ſummon'd him to declare, whe⯑ther he adher'd to his Accuſation, or not. He likewiſe condeſcended to a great many particu⯑lars of matter of Fact, which ſeem'd probable. The Archbiſhop finding him engag'd ſo far, that he could not afterwards retract, deſir'd to be allow'd to prove himſelf Alibi. This was the beſt method he could take [...]o juſtifie his Innocence, and retort the Calumny upon his Adverſary. The Court could not refuſe to hear his Proof; ſo, he prov'd, not only by Witneſſes, but likewiſe by an Order he made, as Biſhop that day, which was Publiſh'd throughout his Dioceſs; he prov⯑ed, I ſay, that he was above one hundred and fif⯑ty Leagues off from the place of the alledg'd In⯑terview. Verthamont was ſtrangely ſurpris'd, when he ſaw himſelf thus Convicted. However, as all Litigious Men have ſome back Door or o⯑ther, he alledg'd, That, indeed, he was out as to the Year; but as to the Fact it ſelf, and the Day, he was certainly in the right: But after what was paſt, that Reaſon would not bear: So that he was not only order'd to make reparation of the Prelat's Honour; but he, and his Poſterity, were declar'd uncapable for ever of enjoying any Magiſtracy. The Sentence contain'd likewiſe o⯑ther Puniſhments againſt him, which 'twere too tedious to inſert here. However, fancying the King would be ſo good as to diſpenſe with part of 'em, he had the boldneſs to appear at the King's Levee ſome days after. The King was [59] incens'd when he ſaw him, and commanded him, in har [...]h words, to depart his Chamber. Vertha⯑mont obey'd, without ſtaying for a ſecond Order; and was even oblig'd to retire to the Country, for the King would not allow him ſo much as to continue at Paris.

The Plenipotentiaries continued ſtill at Reſwick, and it being uncertain whether the Peace would be concluded or not, new Edicts were iſſued forth. One of 'em oblig'd the great Cities and Towns of the Provinces, to take Lanthorns, like thoſe at Paris; and to buy themſelves off by a Tax to be laid upon the twentieth Penny. By that Edict the King promis'd, in conſideration of that Tax, to be at the charge of the Lights for ever. In fine, 'twas viſible, that this was only a new in⯑vention for raiſing of Money, which was much wanted at that time. Mr. Caumartin, Intendant to the Finances, was order'd to carry the Edict to the firſt Preſident, in order to have it con⯑vey'd to the Attorney-General, who read it with the coldeſt Humour of any Man in the World. Mr. Caumartin expected, that when he had read it, he would give him his Sentiments of the matter, which he meant to Communicate to the Miniſter of State. But the Magiſtrate continuing ſilent for ſome time, he turn'd the Edict over, and put it ſeveral times into the Hands of the Magiſtrate, who ſtill return'd it: At laſt, being tired with ſhuffling it to and again, he broke ſilence, and ſaid, It was a fine Edict, and that he and his Friends ought to be convinc'd that it was ſuch. At leaſt, ſaid he, for my particular ſatisfaction, I expect⯑ed you would have done me the honour to tell me, in whoſe Head all theſe Lanthorns were firſt projected. Upon this Expreſſion Mr. Caumartin could not refrain from Laughing, and imparted the occaſion of Laughter to his Friends. After all, the Caſe was laid before the Parliament, [60] and no one had the ſame curioſity as this Magi⯑ſtrate had.

The Conferences at Reſwick did not divert the King from ſending puiſſant Armies into the Field. By vertue of the Peace of Savoy, he was Superior in force to his Enemies; and part of his Troops that had ſerv'd in Italy, he had tranſported to Catalonia. In this Province he was ſtill Maſter of the Cities of Roſes and Gironne, with ſome other Places of importance; and had a free ac⯑ceſs to Bar [...]lona, which is the Metrapolitan of that Country, and, in a manner, the Barrier of the Spaniſh Monarchy. This City, which is Rich, Great, well Peopled, and the ordinary Reſidence of the Nobility of that Country, is ſituated on the Mediterranean, and has a very conſiderable port upon that ſide. The oppoſition that the Houſe of Auſtria had hitherto made to the Peace, mov'd the King to Beſiege it: He thought, that if he could take it, he could at leaſt, bring the Spaniſh Branch to reaſonable terms, conſidering, that after that, even Madrid itſelf was not ſecure. His Majeſty wrote his Thoughts of this matter to Mr. Vendome, who commanded the Troops in that Country. This General ſent him word, that the Troops he had there were not ſufficient for ſo great an Enterprize; and that it could not be compaſſed with leſs than fifty Thouſand Men. Now at that time he had ſ [...]arce [...]wenty five Thouſand. But His Majeſty having ten Thouſand more ready upon a Call, comm [...]nded him to make prepara⯑tions for the Deſign, and promis'd to ſend 'em to him when he wanted 'em. After ſuch poſitive Orders, Mr. Vendome had nothing elſe to do, but to concert all meaſures for ſatisfying the King. The Spaniards having already taken the Ala [...]m at the loſs of their other Places in that Province, and perceiving that the King meant to poſſeſs himſelf of that Place, ſent their beſt Troops [61] thither. The Queen of Spain being the Empreſes's Siſter, deſir'd the Emperor to ſend ſome Regiments under the pretence of preſerving that Province. But that was not her main Deſign: She had a greater eye upon the intereſt of Arch-Duke Charles, her Nephew; for her Husband having no Iſſue, and being not very healthy, ſhe had a mind to ſe⯑cure to him the Crown that Philip IV. had be⯑queath'd him by his Will. Purſuant to this de⯑ſign, ſhe had brought ſome Germans into the Council, in order to ſtifle the Artifices, that France, and even ſome Spaniſh Grandees might ſet on foot, either for the intereſt of that Crown, or for their own; for there were ſome of 'em that laid claim to the Blood of the Ancient Kings of C [...]ſtile, and others to that of the Kings of Arragon. Theſe German Counſellors acted in concert with her; and the Emperor ſent 'em Inſtructions, to the end that nothing might be concerted contrary to his Intereſt, or that of the Arch-Duke, his Son. In the mean time, His Imperial Majeſty ſent the Troops that were deſired; and it being much his Intereſt not to loſe Barcelona, he intreated the En⯑gliſh and Dutch to ſend a Fleet into the Medi⯑terranean. He was very ſenſible what was like⯑ly to happen, becauſe the King made new pre⯑parations in Provence, and ſeem'd to have nothing ſo much in view as the Conqueſt of that Place. However, his Intreaty did not come ſo very ſea⯑ſonably; whether it was, that the Engliſh and Dutch had occaſion to employ their Ships elſe⯑where, or, which is very probable, that they thought the taking of that Place would ſo humble the Houſe of Auſtria, that they would not oppoſe the Peace any longer; for they did not much trouble their Heads upon the matter.

While preparations for War were made, not only in that Country, but in all the other ſeats of War; a new War broke out in the Church, [62] which might have caus'd great diſorders, if it had not been quickly ſtifled; indeed it might have been ſooner ſtifled, if the Arch-biſhop of Paris, and the Biſhop of Meaux had not been very complaiſant to a certain Gentleman that I ſhall call by his Name by and by, by which means it took deeper Root than it might have done. To underſtand this matter throughly, 'twill not be improper to carry our account of things a little higher. In the Popedom of Innocent XI. a Prieſt call'd Molinos, ſtarted up at Rome, who taught very uncommon Doctrines, and did not want followers. Among many erroneous Doctrines, this was the greateſt, That when the Soul came once to a certain point of Sanctity, it was not capable of ſinning, and then it had no part or concern in the Actions of the Body. 'Tis a ſtanding Maxim, that we ought not to cenſure a Man's in⯑tentions, eſpecially when his Morals are uncul⯑pable as to outward appearance; and for that reaſon I ſhall be very cautious of ſaying, that this new Sectary, under the pretence of ſo great Purity, conceal'd a great many Diſorders that his Enemies have falſly charg'd upon him. Perhaps he meant, that the Soul cannot controul ſome Infirmities that we are ſubject to from our Mo⯑ther's Womb: And provided theſe are deteſted by her, ſhe is not accountable for 'em before God. Were it ſo, nothing could be objected againſt his Doctrine, for ſuch is the Doctrine of the Church; and what St. Paul teaches us, who was continually tempted notwithſtanding his being one of the greateſt Saints in Paradiſe. However, ſince a great many uncouth Conſequences might be drawn from his way of explaining himſelf, both upon this Article, and many others, the whole Church roſe up againſt him. Rome, in whoſe view the thing happen'd, Arreſted him; and his Caſe being brought before the Inquiſition, he was there Con⯑demned [63] by ſuch Commiſſioners as were appointed. He ſubmitted himſelf to their Cenſure, and ſome Years after died in Priſon: Upon which 'twas ge⯑nerally thought, that this new Hereſie, known by the name of Quietiſm, was ſo far from paſſing the Alps, that it died outright with him. But the Caſe was quite otherwiſe: For not only Italy was ſtuffed with his Errours, but even France itſelf was tainted with them. One Madam Guy⯑ [...]a, the Widow of Mr. Montargis, who, after the g [...]tting of a great Eſtate upon the Canal of Bria [...]e, left her with two Children: This Lady, I ſay, minded nothing leſs than the true Educa⯑tion of her Children: Not that ſhe wanted either Wit or Judgment; nay, on the contrary, ſhe had a greater ſhare of both than what is natural to Wo [...]en, or what herſelf ought to have deſired: For ſhe meddled with what did not become her, and ſhoving her No [...]e into Books, pretended to explain not only the Fathers but even the Scripture it ſelf. In fine, having heard of Molinos and his Herefie, ſhe could not be eaſie till ſhe had [...] Copy of his Books, and canvaſs'd 'em all over. Malicious People will tell you, that ſhe approv'd of 'em, to cover ſome Enormities that were charg⯑ed upon her. In the mean time, ſhe fell in with a Barnabite, a Sav [...]yard by Nation, who reſided in a Convent, belonging to that order at Montargis. She made him her Confeſſour in ordinary and her Confident; and having pour'd her Venom into his Boſom, compil'd a great many Books, either with his help, or without it, ſo as to make the ſame Figure in France, that Molinos had done at Rome. Mean while, ſhe ought to have been apprehenſive of his [...]ate; for tho' the Inquiſition has not the ſame [...]ooting in all Countries, yet ſhe was not ignorant that the venting of a new Doctrine was a diſallow⯑able Action. She diſpers'd her Books among the Convents, and ſeveral other places; and the Ab⯑bot [64] of Fenelon, the Gentleman whoſe Name I pro⯑miſed not to forget, finding them of a piece with his Sentiments, approv'd 'em ſecretly. This he durſt not do publickly, by reaſon that he was made Sub-praeceptor to the Children of the Royal Family; and that the diſcovery of this his Appro⯑bation, would not only cut off his arrival at a Biſhoprick, but diſpoſſeſs him of the Poſt he was then in. However, Madam Guyon's Writings being publiſh'd, began to make a noiſe in the World; and in regard that the advances contain'd in 'em, incourag'd all the periods of a diſſolute Life, or at leaſt, made way for very odd conſequences; upon this Conſideration, I ſay, the Biſhop of Meaux, as well as the Biſhop of Paris, who was then only Biſhop of Chalons, undertook to make her ſenſible of her Error. They had Conferences upon this Head with the Abbot of Fenelon, whom they deem'd to be tainted with the ſame Doctrine. He, on the other hand juſtify'd her Aſſertions; and maintain'd, that her Thoughts were Juſt and Or⯑thodox, tho' the Meaning and Explication that they forc'd upon her, was Heretical. He likewiſe ſpoke up for her Morals, and the Conduct of her Life, which he pretended to be particularly ac⯑quainted with, tho' both the one and the other were much ſuſpected.

The warmth he ſhew'd in juſtifying her, con⯑firm'd the two Prelates in the Thought, That the Doctrine he vindicated, was as much his own, as hers. They told him as much, and he on the other hand did not deny it; but had the ſubmiſ⯑ſion to aſſure 'em, That he would willingly change his Mind, if he were convinced of the Error. To this purpoſe, an Aſſembly was held at Iſſi; but before they met, Madam Guyon had given in to the Biſhop of Meaux, a Copy of all her Writings, in order to be examin'd at his leiſure. The Bi⯑ſhop examin'd it with all poſſible Care; and like⯑wiſe [65] was at the pains of inſpecting the Conduct of her Life for ſome time, by which means he diſcover'd that ſhe inflamed the Evil, by pretend⯑ing to Authorize her Doctrine by Miracles, and a Gift of Prophecy, beſtow'd upon her by God. She recounted Stories to this effect, pretending to confirm 'em by credible Witneſſes; and in a word, never did Woman, or Man, carry Fanati⯑ciſm ſo far as ſhe did. In fine, there was cauſe enough for putting her up in Bedlam, if it had not been for thoſe who ſupported her. All the Ab⯑bot of Fenelon's Friends were hers; the Duke of Beauvillers, Governor to the Princes of the Royal Family, was ſuſpected to be an Abettor of her Errors, as well as the Duke of Chevreuſe, and their whole Families. The thing that confirm'd the general ſuſpicion of the Duke de Beauvillers beyond the reſt, was the putting his eight Daugh⯑ters into a Convent at Montargis. 'Twas con⯑cluded from thence, that Montargis being the place where this Hereſie was firſt hatched in France, that Convent being a Convent of Benedictines, was likewiſe tainted. The whole Family of Charoſt was ſuſpected in like manner of falling in with this Hereſie. But that which reſtrain'd ſcrupu⯑lous and nice Conſciences from Condemning it, at a time when they were very ſenſible of its perni⯑cious Conſequences, was, That neither the Court, nor France itſelf, could boaſt of Perſons of ſuch Chriſtian Lives, and Regular Morals, as all the Favourers of the new Doctrine were of. Their Piety was not of ſo late a date, as the Hereſie of Mo [...]in [...]s, that Madam Guyon Reviv'd: From their firſt appearance at Court, they were all eminent for Vertue; and 'twas in conſideration of that, that the King choſe to put the Children of France under the Government of the Duke of Beauvil⯑lers. He had been thirty Years a Courtier; and during that ſpace of time, had never counter acted [66] the Meaſures of Vertue, which ſhin'd in all his Actions; and in a word, no Man could be in grea⯑ter eſteem at Court, than himſelf. So that, when the Publick ſaw him charg'd with the Abetting of this new Doctrine, they look'd upon the Charge as Invidious, as well as Zealous. They put this conſtruction upon the matter, that the Poſt he was in, created him private Enemies, who wanted to ſucceed him, and ſtood at nothing to compaſs their End.

Whatever was in it, the Abbot of Fenelon, who always ſhewed a diſpoſition to obey what Deci⯑ſion ſhould be made at Iſſi, joyned with Madam G [...]yon in ſingling out a third Perſon, who would caſt the Ballance upon the ſide he declared for, if the two Biſhops who were to meet ſhould be of a contrary Sentiment. The Biſhop of Meaux pre⯑tends, in a Book he has lately publiſhed, That all this was carried on, without the King's know⯑ing any thing of the matter. This I am willing to believe, becauſe he ſaid it. And I likewiſe be⯑lieve, that the reaſon in his view, was, to pre⯑vent the King's having an ill opinion of the Ab⯑bot of Fenelon; His Majeſty being an Enemy to all new Opinions, not only out of Piety, but out of Policy; ſince nothing is more apt to diſturb the Repoſe of a State, than Innovations in Reli⯑gious Matters. The third Perſon I mention'd but now, was Mr. Tronſon, Doctor of the Sorbonne, Superior of the Seminary of S. Sulpitius, a Man of ſound Principles, and one whoſe Life and Con⯑verſation were blameleſs. Before the Aſſemblies met, the Abbot of Fenelon had time to Compile a Vindication of Madam Guyon's Books; but not⯑withſtanding all his Precaution, they were Con⯑demn'd with one general Voice. Madam Guyon had promiſed to ſubmit to the Judgment of theſe three Doctors, as well as the Abbot of Fenelon. And both of 'em ſeeming to ſubmit, theſe Judges [67] thought the Matter was laid aſleep, tho at the ſame time, the Fire was only ſmoother'd under the Aſhes. The Abbot of Fenelon, had a mind to be a Biſhop, before he kindled it again. And in effect, he was no ſooner Inſtall'd Archbiſhop of Cambray, but he return'd to his Vomit, notwith⯑ſtanding that he had invited the two Prelates that Contemn'd his Doctrine, to aſſiſt at the Ceremony of his Conſecration. However, he went on with a great deal of Precaution, pretending that the Sentence pronounced againſt him, was only owing to a miſunderſtanding of the true Senſe of the Books under Examination. He gave high Enco⯑miums of the Vertue of that Lady, which at that time began to be more warmly attack'd than before, for 'twas alledg'd, She had only reviv'd Molinos's Doctrine for a Cloak to the diſorderly things ſhe was charg'd with. Madam Guyon, for her part was ſo far from a true Submiſſion to the Cenſure of thoſe Judges, that ſhe began again to Write a Vindication of her Doctrine. The Arch⯑biſhop of Cambray, who pretended all along to keep in with the two Prelates that had Con⯑demn'd him, as if the Allegations he had made on the behalf of the Lady, and her Principles, were ſuch as they would have joyn'd with, if they had been fully acquainted with her Perſon and Doctrines. This Prelate, I ſay, made a coun⯑terfeit Cenſure of the liberty that the Lady took in ſetting Pen to Paper again. At laſt, the King was inform'd of the Matter, but ſo, that nothing was ſaid againſt the Biſhop of Cambray; either becauſe they had a mind to try if they could gain him otherwiſe, or becauſe they fear'd his Plot was ſo well contriv'd, that he would come off clear, notwithſtanding all the Teſtimony they could bring againſt him. Madam Guyon was Im⯑priſon'd at Vincennes, by the King's Order. As the Mind of Man is always curious and fond [68] of Novelties, ſo her Books were ſought for e⯑very where, inſomuch that there was not half enough for thoſe that wanted 'em. This Lady had a Daughter that was married to the Count de Vaux, the Eldeſt Son of the late Mr. Fouquet, Superintendant of the Finances. He was Brother to the Dutcheſs of Charoſt; and being troubled at the Impriſonment of his Mother-in-Law, as, indeed, he ought to have been, He left no Stone unturn'd to procure her releaſe. The Abbot of Fenelon did the ſame thing under hand. 'Twas repreſented to the King, that ſhe herſelf would condemn her own Advances, if ſhe thought they imported what was alleg'd againſt her, and that ſhe was ſo far from meaning any ſuch thing, that ſhe thought herſelf oblig'd to take up her Pen again to undeceive the World; but ſince His Majeſty was diſpleas'd with her Writing, ſhe would take care not to tranſgreſs his Orders for the future. In fine, her Reſolution to ſubmit to the Doctrine of the Church, was ſo dextrouſly repreſented to the King, that he condeſcended to ſet her at liberty, upon condition, that ſhe ſhould retire to a Con⯑vent, juſt by Paris, where her Conduct might be more narrowly inſpected: Thither ſhe went, and behaved herſelf for ſome time ſo well, that 'twas really believ'd ſhe was wean'd from her Errors. In the mean time, this thing having made a great noiſe, the Biſhop of Meaux reſolv'd to publiſh a Book to undeceive thoſe that might favour the New Doctrine. He communicated his Deſign not only to the Biſhop of Chalons, who was then made Archbiſhop of Paris; but likewiſe to the Bi⯑ſhop of Cambray. He gave the latter to know, that he hop'd he would affix his Approbation to the Book, which he deſir'd both out of reſpect to him, and for enforcing and recommending it to the World. He repreſented farther, That there was a general Report, that he had favour'd that La⯑dy; [69] and that by this means he would ſhew to the World, that tho' he once thought well of her, yet he did not ſubſcribe to her Errors. The Bi⯑ſhoy of Meaux alledges, That he promiſed his Approbation, and that after this interview, they parted good Friends. This he avers openly in a Book of his that's but juſt Publiſhed. How⯑ever, the Archbiſhop of Cambray went ſome days after, to viſit the Archbiſhop of Paris, and ac⯑quainted him, that he had a mind to write upon that Subject himſelf, but would not put his Book to the Preſs, before he knew his Sentiments of it. The Archbiſhop of Paris endeavour'd to diſſuade him from purſuing his Deſign, and re⯑monſtrated to him, That the leaſt partiality to that Lady's Tenets, would infallibly ruine him. The other reply'd, That he might eaſily imagine he had no mind to Print any ill thing, ſince he offered to ſhew it firſt to him. But this Anſ⯑wer did not pleaſe the Archbiſhop of Paris. He continued his utmoſt endeavour to take him off from his Reſolution; but at laſt finding he could not prevail, he deſir'd, that at leaſt, he ſhould not Print his Book till the Biſhop of Meaux had Publiſhed his. The Archbiſhop of Cambray promis'd not to do it; and the Archbiſhop of Paris thinking he would keep his word, ac⯑quainted the Biſhop of Meaux with what he had ſaid. In the mean time he expected a ſight of the Manuſcript; and, indeed, the Biſhop of Cam⯑bary ſent it to him, but it was writ in ſuch an ab⯑ſtracted manner, that the firſt time he read it, he could underſtand little or nothing of it. In that Manuſcript he ſet forth, That if the Doctrine of the Quietiſts conſiſted in the belief of ſuch and ſuch things, he was ready to Condemn it; but if it maintain'd ſuch and ſuch things, he was ready to vindicate it. Thus was his Book divided into ſeveral Chapters, ſome containing a deſcription [70] of the Quietiſm, That all Doctors ought to re⯑ject; and others of the Quietiſm, That, as he alledg'd, all the World ought to approve of. The Archbiſhop of Paris, who had not much time to peruſe it, being much taken up in the exerciſe of his Epiſcopal Office, thought he might keep the Manuſcript as long as he would, eſpe⯑cially conſidering, that the Archbiſhop of Cam⯑bray had promis'd not to put it to the Preſs till the Biſhop of Meaux's Book was Publiſhed. But he would needs have it again, and the Archbiſhop of Paris gave it him, after he had ſhewn him two or three Chapters that he thought proper to be lick'd over again. But, after all, this Book was Publiſhed before the Biſhop of Meaux's; and the Author having thus broke his word to the Archbiſhop of Paris, fell out both with him and the other Prelate. The Biſhop of Chartres joyn'd with them in repreſenting to the King the per⯑nicious Conſequences that would inſue upon the toleration of that New Doctrine. His Majeſty having ſpoke of it to the Archbiſhop of Cam⯑bray, that Prelate pretended to maintain, that he had ſaid nothing in his Book, but what was con⯑formable to the Tradition of the Church; and that he was willing to refer the matter to Rome, and ſubmit to their deciſion. The King not be⯑ing qualify'd to judge of theſe things himſelf, was oblig'd to ſtrike Sail to ſuch a plauſible ſub⯑miſſion: But the other three Prelates being ſtill at his Ear, remonſtrated to him, That 'twas not pro⯑per for the Royal Off-ſpring to be under the Con⯑duct of a Man that was ſo notoriouſly ſuſpected of Hereſie. This gave His Majeſty ſuch an Alarm, that he ordered the Archbiſhop of Cambray to re⯑tire to his Archbiſhoprick. In the mean time, the Cauſe was transferr'd to Rome, as being the only Tribunal capable to determine a Queſtion of that Nature. Each of the Parties endeavour'd to [71] make Friends in that place. Mr. Boſſuet ſent his Nephew thither, who, by the Intereſt he had be⯑yond others, might be capable to put his Orders in Execution. The Archbiſhop of Cambray ſent likewiſe a Perſon that he confided in, tho' his greateſt hopes depended upon Cardinal Bouillon, who was his particular Friend. He order'd him to prolong the Affair as much as poſſible, that he might have time to ſet things in a clear light, and to give His Holineſs to underſtand, that the op⯑poſition he met with proceeded more from a party concern, than from a Religious Zeal. In the mean while, Madam Guyon's Principles were found in the Royal Abbey of St. Lewis at St. Cir, and a diſco⯑very was made, that ſome Nuns were ſo influ⯑enc'd by 'em, that they were downright Quietiſts. Madam Maintenon was mightily troubled at this, ſhe being the Perſon to whom the Nobility of France owes the Erecting of that Religious Houſe, in which they have the opportunity of being rid of their Daughters for a time, and ſometimes for ever: And what troubled her yet more, a Nun that was her particular Favourite, was one of the poyſon'd number. However, the King tranſplant⯑ed 'em to other Convents, to prevent their infect⯑ing of the reſt. This Sect which had been ex⯑tinct at Rome from the Condemnation of Molinos, began to revive there, when the Abettors under⯑ſtood, that it ſtill had footing beyond the Alps, and even that an Archbiſhop had openly declar'd himſelf a Protector of it. Such was the confor⯑mity of their Sentiments with his, that they cry'd up whatever he advanc'd; and tho' they did not know him, and indeed had ſcarce ever heard of him, yet the whole City was preſently fill'd with ſeveral Writings, in which they not only applaud⯑ed his Doctrine, but made an infinite number of Panegyricks upon his Perſon, as if they had been intimately acquainted with him. The Archbiſhop [72] of Cambray being acquainted with all that paſs'd at Rome by an Expreſs he had ſent thither, did not nevertheleſs confide ſo much in them, as to abſtain from Writing himſelf: For he ſent 'em ſeveral Papers by way of Letters, in which he explain'd the Objections made againſt his Book, in order to rectifie the conſequences that might be drawn from thence. In the mean time, nothing was ſaid to Madam Guyon, nor to the Archbiſhop's Friends that were about the Children of France. Among theſe was the Abbot of Beaumont his Ne⯑phew, to whom he had procur'd the place of be⯑ing Sub-praeceptor to the young Princes, and who had always acted up to the Duty of his Poſt. In regard 'tis natural for a Nephew to adhere to his Uncle, and that the obligation he had receiv'd from his Uncle, ſuggeſted a Preſumption, that he would not eaſily depart from his Intereſt, the King was ſollicited to diſgrace him. 'Twas re⯑preſented to His Majeſty, That the Young Prin⯑ces were not ſafe under his Conduct, no more than under his Uncle's; and that tho' he had not publickly taken up with his Errors, yet 'twas to be fear'd he might ſuck in their Contagion. The King thought it an unjuſt thing, upon a ſimple ſuſpicion, to turn a Man out of his Poſt, that could not be convicted of any Crime. He was reſolv'd to ſee farther into the matter before he would condeſcend to any ſuch thing. Thus was he continued in his place, and his Enemies were forc'd to wait for a more favourable opportunity to ruine him.

While the Biſhops were thus making War one with another, two Eccleſiaſtick Orders were re⯑concil'd, that had not always liv'd in a good un⯑derſtanding; I mean the Jeſuits and the Prieſts of the Oratory, who upon ſeveral occaſions have de⯑monſtrated to the World, that they are not al⯑ways of the ſame Opinion. The Doctor of St. [73] Martha, a Perſon of great Merit, diſtinguiſhing Piety, and profound Learning, was turn'd out from being General of the Prieſts of the Oratory, by the intrigues of the Jeſuits, ſupported by the late [...] de Chanvallon, Archbiſhop of Paris. To pry into what was done in that Society, the Je⯑ſuits, as well as the Archbiſhop, had got a falſe Brother there, who gave 'em notice of every thing, ſo that no-body could imagine how the diſ⯑covery came; for he was ſo diſguis'd, that he was taken for the greateſt Zealot of all the Brethren. An Archbiſhoprick was promis'd him in recom⯑pence for his Service, and the Good Fathers were as good as their word in due time, that is, when they found another of their Society, that pro⯑mis'd to perform what he did. The conferring of a Biſhoprick upon this Traitor, rais'd a ſuſ⯑picion in that Society; but ſince it might be at⯑tributed to ſomething elſe than the true Cauſe, that was not enough for a true Conviction. At that time the Traitor of St. Martha was not yet depos'd; he continuing his ſteady Courſe, quickly obſerv'd that there were Traitors among them, tho' he did not determine whether the Biſhop or another. However, that Biſhop being remov⯑ed from thence, the ſimpler ſort of People look⯑ed upon that as a vindication of him, tho' the more ſenſible part of Mankind did not excuſe him the more for that. They fancy'd what was true, that he had given his Place to another, who would be equally zealous upon the proſpect of the like Recompence. They were in the right of it; for they did nothing but what the Arch⯑biſhop and the Jeſuits knew: However they did not trouble themſelves, being ſenſible that they did nothing but what was to be done. In the mean time, the Doctor of St. Martha had occa⯑ſion to have ſome buſineſs with the Archbiſhop; and one day when he had his Audience, that [74] Prelate put him into his Cloſet, till he had finiſh'd a Conference with a perſon upon a bu⯑ſineſs of Conſequence. As ſoon as the Doctor enter'd the Cloſet, he ſpy'd upon the Table, a⯑mong other Papers, one that he knew to be the Hand of one of his Prieſts; and having the curioſity to know what it was, found it to be an account he gave the Archbiſhop of a thing that had been privately concerted among them. This Paper he put in his Pocket, thinking the Arch⯑biſhop would not perceive that 'twas he that took it, and carry'd it home, after finiſhing the Affair he came upon. Immediately upon his re⯑turn he conſulted with thoſe of his Society, that he knew would be faithful in keeping the ſecret, whether or not he ſhould ſhew this Paper to him that wrote it. Some were againſt the ſhewing of it, becauſe that would give the Archbiſhop to know, that 'twas he that took it; but others thought this no inconveniency; nay, on the con⯑ [...]ary, they thought they were oblig'd to ſhew that they knew both the Traitor and the Treache⯑ry. The Father joyn'd with the laſt, and accor⯑dingly took aſide the writer of the Paper that was then in his Pocket, and check'd him for what he had done. The writer offer'd to deny the Fact, fancying that he ſpoke only by ſuſ⯑picion. Then the Father of St. Martha advis'd him in a Chriſtian manner, not to add a Lye to his former Fault, and withal acquainted him, that he knew all the particulars, for which rea⯑ſon 'twas in vain for him to offer to diſguiſe any thing. The treacherous Brother was of the ſame Humour with thoſe, who, when once they have advanc'd a thing, could rather ſee it cut in peices, than lop any thing of it: For in purſuance of their Temper, he inſiſted ſtill upon the Negative. But the General not being able longer to bear his impudent Lying, produc'd the writing out of [75] his Pocket, and prov'd the Charge againſt him by his own hand Writing. The Traitor was migh⯑tily ſurpriz'd at the appearance of the Paper; having then nothing more to ſay, all his reſerve was to cry out upon the Archbiſhop for ruining him entirely, by giving his Paper to the Gene⯑ral. The Archbiſhop made Oath that it did not come that way; and well he might, ſince it was diſcover'd as above. However, the Archbiſhop ſmelling from thence, that the Father had ſnatch'd up that Paper when he was in the Cloſet, advis'd the falſe Brother not to be concern'd, for that he would procure the Royal Protection for him, in caſe his Society offer'd to affront him. In effect, the Society of which he was a Member deſign'd to expel him; but the Archbiſhop prohibited them in the King's Name, to think of it; ſo that he continued among theſe Prieſts, and does to this day. In the mean time the Archbiſhop could not for⯑get the Trick that the Father of St. Martha had plaid him. That joyn'd with other things, gave the Archbiſhop an opportunity of repreſenting him to the King as a Janſeniſt, and imploying the Royal Authority to depoſe him. Father de la Tour, the preſent General of that Order, was elected in his room, and deſerv'd that Poſt upon ſeveral accounts, eſpecially by reaſon of his ſin⯑gular Piety, and diſtinguiſhing Zeal. The Je⯑ſuits oppos'd his Election under hand, alledging, That he was as much a Janſeniſt as the Father of St. Martha. Several things were offer'd to⯑wards his juſtification; but that very thing that was deſign'd for his further Ruine, prevented his excluſion. He was Confeſſor to one Madam de Fond Pertuis, that was a zealous Devotee to Mr. Arnaud, inſomuch that ſhe went to Flanders ſeveral times during the laſt War. This new General having advice of this, prohibited her to return to Flanders again, unleſs ſhe choſe another [76] Confeſſor. But ſhe did not ſtand to go thither once more, in ſpite of his order to the contrary. However he did not offer to enquire further into her Conduct; but the thing being heard of at Court; the King ſaw plainly that he was not ſo much a Janſeniſt as he was repreſented [...]to be, in regard he cenſur'd that Lady's adhering to one that was reckon'd the head of that Sect. Thus was his excluſion prevented; and the Jeſuits finding what a good Opinion the King had of him, invited him to P [...]ch a [...] a ſolemn Feſtival in the Church of St. Louis. He return'd their Complement by de⯑ſiring them to ſingle out one of their Society to Preach before the Prieſts of the Oratory, upon the day of another ſolemn Feſtival. Thus was the Reconciliation brought about, that I ſpoke of but now. But, after all, I doubt if the Je⯑ſuits were cordial in the matter; for this Gene⯑ral had for ſome time indeavour'd to ſtifle their Practice. A great many Ladies of Quality that us'd to confeſs to Father Bourdaloux, or ſome of their Society, deſir'd that he might be their Di⯑rector. Among others the Dutcheſs of Aumont deſerted them, and put in with him: And this be⯑ing a Practice that ſeldom paſſes with impunity among Directors, would have eterniz'd the Quar⯑rel between the two Companies, if the Jeſuits, who have fully as much Policy as Learning, had not thought it proper to take no farther notice of it. At this day Father de la Tour Preaches in their Church; but as he is not equal to many of 'em, either in Gracefulneſs or Eloquence, ſo they did not ſtand to give him the precedency as to the Direction of Conſciences, becauſe he, for his part, was oblig'd to ſtoop to them in the way of Preaching. Madam Harlai, the Plenipotentiary's Lady, had become one of his Penitents, ever af⯑ter ſhe had the happineſs to be convinc'd, that it was impoſſible to work her Salvation in this [77] World, if ſhe liv'd as moſt Women now a days do: But being as fond of Gaming as ever her Husband could be, particularly of Lanſquenet, which is as bewitching as Baſſette, inſomuch, that when Women are once ſeiz'd with a Paſſion for it, they'll rather ſell their Smock than abſtain from it: This Lady, I ſay, being ſuch a paſſionate Lover of that Game, that 'twas to be fear'd ſhe might relapſe into her old vomit, by frequenting publick Company every day; This Director gave her four of his other Penitents to have an eye upon her. Theſe Spies reliev'd one another under the pre⯑tence of keeping her Company; and ſhe was the leſs ſenſible of the Deſign, becauſe they were all four much of her Age and Condition. One, in⯑deed was of a higher Birth than ſhe, as being the Widow of a Son of the Blue-Ribbon, one of whoſe Anceſtors had been a Marſhal of France. For, notwithſtanding that the Lawyers have a great value for their Character, eſpecially when their Magiſtracy gives as great a diſtinction as the Family of Harlai is poſſeſſed of; yet 'tis certain, that there's a great deal of difference between th [...] Gown and the Sword, when the latter is attended with diſtinguiſhing Circumſtances. This Lady had been the Marchioneſs of St. Valeri. As for her own Family ſhe was a Bullion, that is to ſay, the Daughter of the Marquis of Mon Lovet; a Marquis indeed of a late ſtanding, but of a golden Nobility; for he was the Son of Mr. de Bullion, Superintendant of the Finances, who left three Children, among which the deſcendants of the Eldeſt were only capable to keep his Riches; as for the other two, their Poſterity has no reſem⯑blance of the Superintendant that was once in their Family; they are as poor as Devils, and the third of theſe Children commenc'd his miſe⯑ry in their Life: time, by making an unlucky Mar⯑riage. He fell in Love with his Mother's Wo⯑man, [78] and Married her, upon whch his Mother diſinherited him. After he had quench'd his Paſ⯑ſion with Enjoyment, he quickly became ſenſible of his Fault; but 'twas then too late to think of a Remedy. However, being very much troubled for the loſs of ſuch a fine Succeſſion, he left Lions, where he was wont to live, and came to Paris; having firſt inſtructed his Wife in what ſhe was to do towards the backing of his De⯑ſign. The Orders he gave her, were, to go into the Country, and ſpread a Report in the City, that ſhe was at the Point of Death: Now, it being cuſtomary in all places to inlarge Reports as they ſpread, the whole City of Lions was preſently fill'd with the noiſe, not only of the Lady's ſham Illneſs, but even of her Death. Her Husband, who had been hitherto fruſtrated in all his attempts towards the regaining of his Mother's Favour, knowing how caſes ſtood at Lions, went into deep mourning, and ſo repair⯑ed to St. Euſtache, where his Mother commonly went. He caſt himſelf, as 'twere, accidentally in her way; and ſhe ſeeing him in ſuch a Garb, had the curioſity to inform herſelf under hand, of the Reaſon of it; for ſhe would not ſpeak to him herſelf. Her followers being perſwaded that his Wife was Dead, told her, what they heard of the matter; upon which ſhe gave her Son's Relations and Friends to know, That foraſmuch as the occaſion of the difference be⯑tween her and him was gone, ſhe would not keep Anger longer. She invited him to come and ſee her; and the Deed by which he was diſinherited being tore, he found ways and means to retain her Friendſhip, inſomuch, that ſhe not only par⯑don'd his Marriage, but likewiſe his abuſing of her Credulity, in making her believe that his Wife was Dead.

[79] Madam Harlai's three other Keepers were the Attorney General's Lady, Madam Harouis, and Madam Chateaurenard. This laſt was the hand⯑ſomeſt of all the four, but had not been always ſo devout as they, for ſhe was mightily taken up in the way of the World: But the diſgrace of her Husband's Family, with ſome other melancho⯑ly Circumſtances that are not uncommon in the way of Life, oblig'd her to purſue a courſe that might ſcreen her from all diſquiet; ſo that ſhe became ſo very pious, that her Piety was a pat⯑tern for thoſe who had grown old in the purſuit of it, before ever ſhe thought of ſuch a courſe of Life. Her Husband was the Son of the late Mr. Dacquin, the King's firſt Phyſician, who not being ſatisfied with the Eſtate he had, occaſion'd his own Baniſhment from the Court, by impor⯑tuning the King with unſeaſonable Requeſts: Nay, he was ſo bold, as to repreſent to His Ma⯑jeſty, that his Services were at leaſt equal to any that could be done of what nature ſoever; and in effect, that ſince his Life was to him the moſt precious and dear thing in the World, 'twas an obvious conſideration, that the perſon who pre⯑ſerv'd it by his Preſcriptions, was not be deſpiſ⯑ed. Before he ventur'd upon ſuch Diſcourſes, that is, while he obſerv'd the meaſures of Reſpect, due to His Majeſty; both he and his Family had a thouſand liberal Gifts conferr'd upon 'em. His Majeſty had made his Eldeſt Son Secretary of his own Cloſet, and an honorary Counſellor of the Parliament, a favour that is not promiſcuouſly granted; and beſides all this, he was Intendant of the Generality of Moulins. When this Honour was conferr'd upon him, he was ſcarce twenty five Years old. But immediately upon his Fa⯑ther's beginning to talk ſo high, he was included in his Father's Diſgrace, and recall'd. The Name of Chateaurenard which he bore, was the Title [80] of an Eſtate he bought from Mr. Amat, the Son of a famous Farmer of the Revenues. This Amat, who ſcarce underſtood his Intereſt ſo well as his Father, diſcover'd upon his firſt imbarking in the World, that Gaming was his only de⯑light; and upon that ſcore, ſeveral Sharpers Courted him in hopes to have part of the Riches left him by his Father. Among others, an En⯑ſign of the Life-Guard had [...]pretty good ſucceſs; for he won of him a large ſum in ready Money, and another upon tick. But that ſort of Com⯑merce being the King's averſion, and the Enſign being better vers'd in ſhuffling the Cards, than in unſheathing his Sword for the King's Service; Up⯑on theſe conſiderations, he was broke when His Majeſty purg'd the Companies of their ſcandalous Members. The above-mentioned Eſtate belonged formerly to a very good Family of that Name. It had once a Caſtle upon it that ſerv'd to over-awe the Burgundians, when they were under the Dukes of Burgundy, who were the greateſt Enemies that ever the Kings of France had; notwithſtanding that they had the honour to ſpring from their Blood. The Heir of that Family having done ſomething in oppoſition to the King's Intereſt; his Eſtate was forfeited and reunited to the Royal Demeſ⯑nes. The Family of Chatillon Coligni, whoſe Poſ⯑ſeſſions were adjacent to that Eſtate, bought it of the King as lying conveniently for them, and kept it a great many Years, till William Prince of Orange Married Louiſe de Coligni, the Daughter of Admiral de Coligni, who bears ſo great a Fi⯑gure in our Hiſtory; by which means it paſs'd into the Houſe of Naſſau, and there continued till the Princes of Orange, the preſent King of England's Mother, ſold it as her Son's Guardian to Mr. Amat Farmer of the Revenues. At this day the Arms of the Princes of Orange are placed in the moſt eminent part of the City, if it be allowable to [81] call a Place a City, that is only a Hole, and that one of the moſt wretched Holes in the Univerſe. But let it be as it will, the Inhabitants of that Hole or Town, call it which you will, thinking to ingratiate themſelves at Court in the beginning of the laſt War, by ſetting forth their hatred of King William, intreated the Marquis of Louvois by a Letter, to allow 'em to take down theſe Arms. But ſuch a Requeſt deſerving no Anſwer, that Miniſter gave 'em none; and thus were the Arms preſerv'd from their miſtaken Zeal; ſo that they ſtand to this day where they were plac'd an Age ago.

At that time the Biſhop of Dax Died; and his Death robb'd the publick of his Hiſtory of the King, which he was carrying on, upon the pre⯑cedent of Mr. Perefixe's Hiſtory of Henry IV. He thought it became a Biſhop to undertake that ſort of performance. But after all, if he had employ'd his time in finiſhing the Hiſtory of the Church begun by Mr. Godeau; that Province, as I take it, had been more ſuitable to his Chara⯑cter. However, he ſearch'd every corner for the finding of Memoirs to anſwer his Deſign. And not long before his Death, I ſaw him come to one of my Friends, that had belong'd to Cardinal Mazarin, to know of him, whether the late King of England was preſent at the Negotiation of Peace, carry'd on by that Miniſter, with Don Louis de Haro, in 1659. Upon his departure, my Friend acquainted me with the occaſion of his Viſit; which was to me a mighty ſurpriſal, for that all the World knows, that that Prince would have been there, but that his Eminence would not allow of it. The Reaſon he went upon, was, That he fear'd the diſobliging of Richard the Son of Crom⯑wel, who had been declar'd Protector of England after his Father's Death. So that that Prince who had advanc'd within ſix Leagues of the place where [82] the Conferences were held, was oblig'd to return. My Lord Bath, whom he had ſent to know if his Preſence would be acceptable, receiv'd this Anſ⯑wer, That 'twas not proper for him to appear there; and that the above-mentioned Miniſter would ſtill take the ſame care of his Intereſt. But had the Prince been ſo ſimple as to truſt him, and take no other meaſures, he had been in a fair way of never mounting his Throne. The Biſhop I mention'd but now, had reſign'd his Biſhoprick a great while ago, perhaps in order to have the more leiſure to purſue his Hiſtory: 'Tis probable he thought to out-do Racine, or Boileau; but I queſtion if he ſhould have ſucceeded: If his Talent lay that way, I muſt ſay that it was a hidden one; for he was never found to be capable of doing much.

Had the Marquis of Rouville, who was eighty Years old, died as he did, he had not ſuſtain'd ſo great a loſs, becauſe he had not any Hiſtory upon the Stocks; but inſtead of Dying, the old Gen⯑tleman acted the part of a very Lively Man, and one that had no mind to die ſo ſoon. He com⯑menc'd a ſuit againſt his Relations, who mean'd to interdict him, under the pretence that he was very old; and having always been an ill Husband, there was no hopes of his growing better in his old days. Had the late Prince been ſtill alive, and ſate as his Judge, he had not only given it for his Adverſaries, but order'd him to be Impri⯑ſon'd; for he us'd to ſay, that if there had been two [...]es in France, he would not ſcruple to leave it for his Life-time. His meaning was, That he was the moſt troubleſome Man in the World: which was alſo the Opinion of a good many People, who, in imitation of this Prince, did not ſatisfie themſelves with Trifles. He choſe ra⯑ther the Condition of one of his own Men in a [...] Corner, at Chantilly, than to be oblig'd [83] to hear ſuch an idle Fellow ſpeak; nor did he ſtand to ſay, that he was far leſs uneaſie with his Pullets, and the other Creatures that he kept in his Managry, and viſited twice a day, than he would be with Men of his Character. Yet it was a ſtrange manner of Occupation for a Prince, ſo famous for having gain'd ſo many Battels, and whoſe very firſt Eſſays in War had equal'd the Actions of thoſe that grew old in the Trade. The Enter⯑prize of Barcelona was ſtill in hand, as well as the deſign to have the Prince of Conti choſen King of Poland; and the Court was exceeding di⯑ligent to bring both the Affairs to a happy Iſſue. The one was, indeed, more eaſier than the other, tho' both appeared very hard; at leaſt, there was ſome reaſon to judge the latter more eaſie than the former, becauſe all they had to do, was, to ſpare no money to make it ſucceed; they were only to gain the Votes of thoſe who are always for the higheſt Bidder; for as that is the Harveſt of the Poles, who reap nothing when they have a King upon the Throne; ſo it is long ſince they own'd their reſemblance of the Swiſs, in regard nothing is to be done with them without money. The Prince of Conti had ſent thither already two hundred thouſand Crowns of his own, and the King for his part, who would have reap'd a great advantage, by obtaining that Crown for the Prince, ſent fourtimes as much. Abbot Polignac, the King's Ambaſſador at that Court, diſtributed the money amongſt thoſe he had engag'd in his Party, and taking that Election to depend intirely upon Cardinal Radzionwski, Archbiſhop of Gneſne, who by virtue of this laſt Dignity, was Prince and Regent of the Kingdom, during the va⯑cancy of the Throne, [...]laviſh'd his money upon him, while he thought it ſufficient to feed others with fine Promiſes. But the Generals of the Ar⯑my of the Crown, and the Lithua [...]ian Troops, [84] who were equally ſharp ſet with the Cardinal, did not find their Account in that ſort of manage⯑ment; neither were the Palatines ſatisfied, foraſ⯑much as they thought their Swords deſerv'd to be conſidered no leſs than the Cardinal's Mitre. Ab⯑bot Polignac had diſguis'd his Project for a long time, and made the Queen Dowager of Poland, be⯑lieve, that the King, his Maſter, had only put up the Prince of C [...]nti by way of Proviſion, in caſe there were no other in whom he could confide. Be⯑ſides that, the Prince of Conti was very-indiffer⯑ent upon the matter; and if he conſented to it, 'twas rather to pleaſe the King, than to gratifie his Inclination. So far he ſaid well; and that Prince who was paſſionately fond of France, was afraid of nothing more, than to hear that he was elected King of Poland. But as for His Majeſty, he was of another mind, for he deſir'd nothing more earneſtly than to ſee the Crown upon that Prince's Head, by reaſon of the advantage he ex⯑pected from thence. The Queen Dowager being, like moſt people, eaſily perſwaded to believe what ſhe wiſh'd gave credit to the inſinuations of Abbot Polignac. She took a great deal of pains to juſtifie to him her Conduct, in what ſhe had done for ſeveral Years againſt the King's Intereſt; and gave him to know, that His Majeſty had for [...]'d her to it by his ill uſage; and that when⯑ever His Majeſty pleas'd to alter his meaſur [...]s with reference to her, ſhe would really ſhew, that ſhe d [...]r'd nothing more than the reſtoring of the good underſtanding that had been betwixt the two Crowns in the beginning of the Reign of the King her late Husband. She continued to repre⯑ [...]rt, That i [...] His Majeſty would vouchſafe his P [...]ction to Prince James her Son, whom ſhe mean [...]d to prefer to the Throne, as ſoon as he a [...]vd at that Dignity, he ſhould do every thing in [...] with His Majeſty's pleaſure; and [85] that His Majeſty ought not to fear that the Al⯑liance he had concluded with a ſuſpected Family, would oblige him to counteract his Intereſt; that he knew well, that Princes have but little regard for their Wive's Relations, at a time when either their Glory or Grandure are in view; and that her Son would continue in an inſeparable U⯑nion with his Crown, inſomuch that he would put the Service of His Majeſty upon the ſame ballance with his own.

Theſe words were very acceptable to the Ab⯑bot of Polignac, who knew, that a Reconciliation between two Parties is the more ſincere, when both ſides are eager in juſtifying their paſt Con⯑duct. Nay, he pretended to have ſome ſenſe of the juſtneſs of her Complaints againſt the King, in order to inſinuate himſelf more effectually in⯑to her Breaſt. In fine, he agreed with her to transfer all the Votes for the Prince of Conti to her Son; and upon that conſideration ſhe pro⯑mis'd to uſe her utmoſt efforts in taking off Sapi⯑eha, great General of Lith [...]ania, from the Houſe of Auſtria, the Intereſt of which he ſeem'd to eſpouſe very warmly. Sapieha was extream powerful in that Dutchy, and was rather Maſter than General of it, poſſeſſing vaſt Territories, and great Char⯑ges in it, which was the reaſon that every one trembled under him. The Abbot of Polignac had no other deſign in it, but to weaken the party of the Houſe of Auſtria, flattering himſelf with the Thoughts, that Prince James his Party would ne⯑ver be able to make Head againſt his own; for he was very far from thinking to keep his word to the Queen, and all he ſaid to h [...], was only to the end he might the more eaſily deceive her. Nevertheleſs ſhe was ſo credulous, that to aſſure him the better of the Confidence ſhe had in him, ſhe ſent him her Picture, which he ſeem'd to have deſir'd very earneſtly. He ſet it up in the moſt con⯑ſpicuous [86] place of his Chamber, to make her the better believe how much he eſteem'd it. However, that Princeſs acted nothing but in concert with him. She endeavour'd to take off Sapieha from the Houſe of Auſtria. Sapieha did not deceive her in the leaſt. He told her freely, That he was ſo engag'd in the Intereſt of that Family, that there was but one thing that could oblige him to quit it, and that was, to have the Crown ſet upon his own Head, and that it was in her power to con⯑tribute to it, if ſhe pleas'd: That ſhe ſhould only joyn her Intereſt, with that he could make for him⯑ſelf; which if ſhe pleas'd to conſent to, he would in⯑fallibly ſet her upon the Throne with him; for that he being a Widdower and ſhe a Widdow, no⯑thing could hinder them from Marrying. The Queen Dowager, however earneſt ſhe was to Reign, did not at all reliſh that Propoſal. She knew Sapieha's Spirit, who tho' he would have kept his Promiſe to her, yet would hardly have allow'd her the very ſhadow of the Kingly Power, while he himſelf would manage the whole with⯑out Controul. She had had already two Huſ⯑bands, over whom ſhe had always a great aſcen⯑dant, and now ſhe did not pretend to degenerate in the leaſt from what ſhe had always been, tho' ſhe was paſſed the time of inſpiring any new Flames.

The Houſe of Auſtria, in imitation of that of France, caus'd the Miniſters which they had at that Court, to act ſo ſecretly, that it was impoſſible, even for the moſt clear ſighted, to pry into their Con⯑duct. There was hardly any one who did not be⯑lieve that their deſign was to advance Prince James to the Throne. The honour▪ he had in being Brother-in-Law to the Emperor and the King of Spain, confirm'd them in their Thoughts. However, that Houſe had quite a different in⯑clination. They miſtruſted the Queen of Poland, [87] whoſe Actions they were no ſtrangers to, and knowing that ſhe had ſent Money into France, they look'd upon her as a Woman that had been always inclin'd that way. They knew that the French have always a ſecret inclination for their Country, which never dies but with their laſt Breath. Beſides, they knew that Princeſs had a certain aſcendant over her Son, that would aſſure her of the Reins of the Government, if ever they ſet the Crown upon his Head. However, all theſe Reaſons were more than ſufficient to oblige the Emperor and the King of Spain to prefer their own Intereſts, to that of their Brother-in-Law, who was a Prince upon whom they could not rely very much; for he was far ſhort of the quali⯑ties of the King his Father. They caſt their Eyes upon a Perſon very worthy of that Crown. The Duke of Saxony, a young Prince, who had di⯑ſtinguiſhed himſelf to a great degree in the Wars the Emperor had againſt the Infidels, and whom he had ſet at the Head of his Army, ſeem'd to both of them to be the Man. His Imperial Ma⯑jeſty labour'd to remove a difficulty that oppos'd their deſign. The Duke was of the Lutheran Religion, and ever in ſome meaſure conſidered as the head of all that Party, becauſe it was one of his Anceſtors that afforded a Retreat to Lu⯑ther, and who, after having embrac'd his Doctrine, undertook alſo his protection againſt the Emperor, who pretended to have him puniſhed, becauſe he dar'd to Preach a New Religion. It is truly aſtoni⯑ſhing, why his Imperial Majeſty and the King of Spain, would not rather endeavour to chuſe the Duke of Bavaria, who was Son-in-Law to the one, and Nephew to the other, he being alſo a Catholick, which was a neceſſary Quality for the King of Po⯑land: Beſides, he was much Richer than the Duke of Saxony, and that is no mean quality to be conſidered in a deſign of that Nature: But [88] whether that Elector was altogether indifferen [...] or whether the two Princes judged it neceſſary to continue him in the Government of Flanders, they fix'd intirely upon the other Duke. The Emper⯑or propos'd the matter to him, and told him, that it ſhould only be long of his Religion, if the Affair did not ſucceed▪ The Duke found the thing of too great a Conſequence to determine ſud⯑denly. However charming the propoſition was; he conſider'd the Condition they annexed to it was too weighty for him. He demanded ſome time to give his Anſwer; and the Emperor judg⯑ed, that becauſe he liſtned already, all would have a favourable Iſſue if he preſs'd him never ſo little. He began to infinuate to him, that both the firſt Calviniſts and Lutherans had always believ'd, that one might as well be ſav'd in the Catholick Religion, as in Theirs; and that the Crown they propos'd to him, was certainly well worth all the trouble they asked of him; and at the ſame time made him converſe with a num⯑ber of Doctors, that puſhed the Affair a great deal further, and alledg'd a great many Reaſons to prove, that the Catholick Religion was the on⯑ly true Religion, and that which had been always profeſs'd in the Church.

The Bright luſtre of the Crown of Poland, made the Duke reliſh their admirable Reaſons; and ſome Miniſters who conferr'd before him with theſe Doctors (tho' neither the one nor the other knew to what purpo [...]e all this was doing) a⯑greed, that according to the Explication the Ca⯑tholicks make now adays of their Faith, it was void of all manner of Venom; ſo that the Duke was more than half perſwaded to go all the length they deſir'd of him. The Catholick Do⯑ctors hearing the Miniſters ſpeak after that man⯑ner, That the Prince might harbour no further ſcruple in his mind, alledg'd, that nonehad ever [89] explain'd their Faith after any other manner than what they do at preſent, excepting ſome ſort of People that were glad to make others believe ſome different Thing; that one might only read the Council of Trent to know the truth of it; and that all thoſe of their Religion had no other Doctrine, than ſuch as was taught there. The Duke was glad that they prepared for him the way he deſir'd; being inform'd by the Em⯑peror, that his Intrigues in Poland were ſo ſtrong⯑ly laid, that his Enemies would find it hard to overturn them. There was nothing that diſwad⯑ed him ſo much from making a profeſſion of that Religion, as the fear that his hopes would prove abortive. Accordingly, being a Man of precaution, he promis'd to the Emperor to per⯑form all they deſir'd of him, upon the proviſo of the certainty of his Election: Now, this aſ⯑ſurance that he demanded, was a very difficult Point, becauſe it depended upon the Votes of a great many People that were capable of falſify⯑ing their words. The very Biſhop of Cujavia, tho' he headed the Intereſt of the Houſe of Au⯑ſtria, ſhew'd no great reſolution in determining who he ſhould Vote for, notwithſtanding he had already taken of his Money. He deſign'd to make uſe of that Election as a means to make him⯑ſelf a Cardinal; and was ſenſible; that whatſo⯑ever ſide was prefer'd, he would meet with invinci⯑ble Obſtacsle to his pretenſions. The Biſhop of Paſſaw waited only to ſee the Emperor's Succeſs, in order to make a Propoſal for the ſucceſſion to that Crown. He being Brother to the Empreſs, the Biſhop of Cujavia was convinc'd that he would be too hard for him; and that upon that ſcore the ſame thing would be ſaid to him, that upon the like occaſion was formerly ſaid to the Coadjutor of Paris. Cardinal Mazarin had formerly promis'd to inveſt him with the Purple, upon the proviſo of ſome things that were mutually concerted; [90] but he forfeited this promiſe, the Cardinal deſir'd the Prince of Conti to procure the nomination of another. The Biſhop of Cuja⯑via fearing, and that very juſtly, that the ſame thing might happen to him, would glad⯑ly have gone over to the French ſide, if he had not been jealous of the Abbot of Polignac, whom he took to be of ſuch a Temper, as not to give up the pretentions he equally made to the Cardinal's Cap. In this quandary he caus'd ſome to feel his Pulſe, to try if he would quit his Preten⯑tions; but the Abbot being as fond of the prefer⯑ment as he, thought his requeſt very indiſcreet, and neglected the King's Intereſt in carrying on his own. In effect, had he reſign'd his Pretentions to this Prelate, he had, by that means, joyn'd the Prelate's Intereſt to his own, and had certain⯑ly procur'd the Election of the Prince of Conti. But he fancied, that by the Primat's Aſſiſtance, and by the help of ſome Money he ſtill expect⯑ed from France, he would compaſs his deſign without him.

The Biſhop perceiving how confident he was of his good Succeſs, ſince he deſpis'd his Of⯑fers, which any other would have valued at a far higher rate than what he demanded of him, endeavour'd to caſt in ſome difference betwixt Him and the Queen of Poland. He caus'd in⯑form that Princeſs, that ſhe would be extream⯑ly impos'd upon, if ſhe rely'd upon his Promiſes, and advis'd her to have ſome better ſecurity of him, than his word, unleſs ſhe had a mind to leave room for a future Repentance. The Queen, who was naturally ſuſpicious, reſolved to make her advantage of this advice; and that ſhe might have the more confidence in Polignac's Expreſ⯑ſions, ſhe deſir'd that he might procu [...]e for her the King's Letter, by which ſhe might be aſ⯑ſur'd of what his Majeſty was pleas'd to [...]quaint [91] her by his Ambaſſador. The Abbot put her in hopes of it, deſigning to elude her, whenever ſhe urg'd him too cloſe to make good his Promiſe. In the mean time he wrote to France, that Af⯑fairs went fairly for the Prince of Conti: But if they deſign'd to make the ſucceſs not only proba⯑ble, but infallible, they ſhould not [...]ail to ſend him a conſiderable ſum of Money. The Court of France was never in greater neceſſity than at that time; having reſolv'd to attack Barcelona, they were equipping a ſtrong Fleet in Provence, that put them to a vaſt Expence: Beſides, they were conſiderably exhauſted to procure a Peace from their Enemies, that at that time was ſo neceſſary to them; all their Provinces were ruin'd by the War; and tho' other States were hardly in better Circumſtances, yet they were affraid, that the Subjects would ſcarce be any longer capable of bearing ſo heavy a Charge.

They had been a long time reſolv'd (as is al⯑ready mention'd) upon the deſign of Barcelona, in hopes that the Spaniards, who alone with the Emperor oppos'd the Peace, would change their Sentiments, when they ſaw themſelves attack'd even in the very Bowels. For tho' that place, be upon the Frontiers of France, yet there be⯑ing only two or three places of ſtrength betwixt it and Madrid, it was not doubted, but that Conqueſt would Alarm them much more than the loſs of four better places in Flanders. But af⯑ter all, tho' theſe Reaſons pleaded for carrying on the attack without any delay, it was never⯑theleſs put off for ſome time upon important Conſiderations. The very Inhabitants of Marſeil⯑les oppos'd it's Bombardment, in regard they had a great many effects in it, which would have been loſt, if it had been reduc'd to Aſhes. They made a conſiderable Preſent to the Court, to procure a due regard to their Intereſt: But at laſt, all the [92] Conſiderations that retarded the Seige, [...] being taken away, it was diſcours'd on more warmly than ever.

This Enterprize could not be carried on with⯑out a great deal of Charge, as I intimated before; but the Court that is ſeldom ſenſible of the pub⯑lick miſeries, and had a Miniſter that found the Miſtery, to raiſe as much Money as they pleas'd without overcharging the People, thought that this ought not to hinder them from bringing their E⯑nemies to a Compliance. In effect, the Provinces were rather miſerable, becauſe they wanted Hands to labour the Ground, than that they were over⯑charg'd by exorbitant Impoſts: So that His Ma⯑jeſty, who was ſtill full of Money, notwithſtand⯑ing all theſe immenſe Expences, thought fit to ſatisfie the Abbot of Polignac, in regard that he aſſur'd them, there was nothing elſe wanting to make all have a proſperous Succeſs: So that he ſent him not only the ſum he deſir'd, but four hundred thouſand Livers over and above; that if he came to fail in his Negotiation, he ſhould not blame an unſeaſonable Parcimony. The Queen of Poland ſeeing him receive ſo large re⯑mittances, and diſtribute them according to the Cardinal's Advice; found him very remote from her Intereſt, and began to be extream jealous of his Conduct. She had reaſon to ſuſpect, that he only thought to amuſe her; and as the eſteem they had of the Prince of Conti, in that King⯑dom, was far ſuperior to that they had for Prince James her Son, ſhe began to preſs the Abbot up⯑on the aſſurances of his Promiſe. He ſhifted it, by telling her ſometimes, that the King being now ready to begin the Campaign, had no time to think of any thing elſe; at other times, that the King expected that if he brought over to the party of Prince James, the Voices he had gain'd for the Prince of Conti, ſhe would be pleas'd to repay [63] him the Money he had ſent into that Country, for making the Party.

The Queen's Council could hardly blame ſo juſt an offer, but diſtruſting that it was only a pretence of the Ambaſſador's to delay Affairs, advis'd the Queen to yield to him in that Article; for if he meant to be ingenuous, the Prince her Son could never fail of the Crown. The Queen be⯑lieved her Council; and ſhe herſelf communicated it to the Abbot; but that Ambaſſador being now at a loſs what to Anſwer, thought fit to propoſe to her ſomething concerning his own particular Intereſt. He told her, that during the life of the King her Husband, he had the promiſe of the Court, that if he got the Prince of Conti to be choſen King, he ſhould allow him to name whom he pleaſ⯑ed for the Cardinal Dignity; that he expected ſhe would be pleas'd to ſtipulate the ſame thing with her Son, that all his pains migh [...] not be fruitleſs; That there were ſome Prelats in her Son's Intereſt, who had the ſame pretentions, in caſe he were choſen King, and that he deſir'd they might reſign in his favour: That Her Majeſty ought not to take it ill, that he ſhould require this of her; for perhaps in his Lifetime he ſhould not have ſo fa⯑vourable an opportunity to arrive to that honour⯑able Dignity.

As ſoon as the Queen's Council heard him talk af⯑ter that manner, they were the more confirmed in their Sentiments of him: However, to cut off all opportunities to make uſe of that difficulty, they us'd their Intereſt with the Prelats that were of Prince James his Party, to reſign what the Abbot deſir'd; which they did in conſideration of the pro⯑miſes the Queen had made to them; and that Princeſs acquainting the Ambaſſador with it, he pretended all went well; and that all that remain⯑ [...]d [...] [...]e done now, was, to reimburſe the ſums he [...] advanced, o [...] which he had the Accounts readvly [94] by him: Now He had not propos'd that as to be done preſently; all he deſir'd before, was, That when Prince James ſhould be choſen, the Queen and He ſhould be oblig'd to make that Reſtitution. So all that were in the Intereſt of the Queen, finding that he had only altered his Conduct, the better to amuſe her, judged it expedient, that Her Majeſty ſhould not only break off all meaſures with him, but do it alſo very openly. Their Reaſon was, That as France had it's Enemies as well as Partiſans, the ſecret Union which they ſuſpected ſhe entertained with him, hindred thoſe who had openly declar⯑ed themſelves againſt France, to imbrace her In⯑tereſt. The Queen believ'd them, and after once ſounding the Abbot of Polignac touching his laſt Reſolution, ſhe made him ſenſible, That ſhe was no more of an humour to be amus'd. She wrote a Letter alſo to the Marchioneſs of Bethu⯑nes, to be deliver'd to his moſt Chriſtian Majeſty. In it ſhe complains of the Abbot's diſengenuity; and how uſeleſly he laviſh'd the King's Money; for however powerful he believ'd his Intereſt, it was no ways capable to equal that of the Houſe of Auſtria, except they joyn'd it with hers. This Marchioneſs was Siſter to the Queen, and both of them were Daughters to the Marquis of Ar⯑quien, who was Captain of the Duke of Orlean's hundred Swiſs, and afterwards Cardinal, by the Nomination of the late King of Poland. The late Princeſs Mary of Gonſague, had carried that Queen with her into Poland, when ſhe her⯑ſelf went thither in the ſame quality, being Married to Ladiſlaus, who then poſſeſs'd that Crown. She had taken her for one of her Maids of Ho⯑nour; and the Prince Lubomirsky falling in Love with her, as well as Sobiesky, who was after⯑wards her Husband, the Queen declar'd herſelf in favour of the firſt, becauſe he was by far the greater Prince of the two. In the mean time Lu⯑bomirsky [95] dying a little after, and the Affairs of that Country proving unfavourable for Caſimir, Ladiſlaus his Brother, who was choſen King after Ladiſlaus, and had moreover Married his Wid⯑dow, Queen Mary, knowing that Sobiesky con⯑tinued always his Affection for Princeſs Lubomir⯑sky, promis'd to procure her for him in Marriage, if he would declare himſelf for the King her Huſ⯑band: Which he did, and as he had already gain'd a great Reputation in that Kingdom, his declaring himſelf was of vaſt advantage to Caſimir. How⯑ever, after a great many different Accidents that are foreign to my Subject, Caſimir dying without Iſſue as well as King Ladiſlaus his Brother, and a French Prince making intereſt for the Crown, as well as the preſent Duke of Lorain, his Father; the Biſhop of Marſeilles, who was Ambaſſador for France in that Country, ſeeing it go croſs to the Intereſt of the Perſon whom his Maſter pro⯑pos'd, chang'd his Conduct very dexterouſly, and told the Dyet, That it was none of their buſi⯑neſs to Court their Neighbours, for what they might eaſily find among themſelves, provided they were ſatisfied with it; That John So⯑biesky was a perſon very worthy of their Crown, who would govern them with all the pru⯑dence and ſatisfaction that it was poſſible for any other Prince to do. Sobiesky had beat the Turks in many Rencounters; and even very lately had reſcued the Republick from imminent Danger by a glorious Victory: So that his freſh Services pleading more in his favour than it was poſſible for the Ambaſſador of France to do, He was choſen King, notwithſtanding a former Decree of the Republick, by which they excluded their own Subjects from the Crown.

By theſe means the Queen of Poland, of an or⯑dinary French Girl, became Queen. However, tho' her Birth ought to have oblig'd her to all [96] the Reſpect imaginable for the Crown of France, under whoſe Government ſhe had drawn her firſt Breath, yet ſhe very ſoon forgot it, becauſe His moſt Chriſtian Majeſty would not comply with all her deſires. The Marquis of Vitry, Ambaſſador of France, at that Court, in the King her Huſ⯑band's time, paſs'd his time there very uneaſily; and he miſs'd been aſſaſſinated very narrowly, be⯑cauſe ſhe ſuſpected him to be the cauſe of all the Diſpleaſure ſhe received from the Court of France. The King, who made uſe of the Prince her Husband, as a check over the Emperour and Empire, was oblig'd to conceal his Reſentment of that Princeſs her Conduct. Matters were better adjuſted by the moderation and prudence of His moſt Chriſtian Majeſty, and by the ſecret Re⯑flections that Princeſs might have had of her in⯑juſtice to a Prince worthy to govern the Univerſe. But as it is impoſſible always to diſſemble ones Sentiments, ſhe ſoon made the breach between Her and His Majeſty wider than ever: For being by the Divine Goodneſs rais'd to ſo high a Dig⯑nity, it vex'd her extreamly, that her Father had no mark of Diſtinction in his Court: She therefore intreated the King to create him Duke and Peet. The Marquis of Arquien, was a perſon abandon'd to his Pleaſures, and became ſo far a ſlave to them, that tho' he was advanc'd to a great Age, yet [...] Wiſe, but plung'd into Debau⯑cheries that [...] extreamly upon the honour of his Daughter and gain'd no Reputation to him⯑ſelf, either as Father-in-Law to a great King, or as a Man of Quality. He avowedly kept his Miſs, whom he allowed to go by his Name; for ſhe was known by no other, than by that of Louiſon D' Arquien; and that coming often to His Maieſty's Ear, he thought it not very convenient to grant the Queen the Dignity ſhe demanded for her Fa⯑ther

[97] That Repulſe was reſented with all the Malice Woman is capable of; ſhe obliged the King, her Husband, to diſcontinue all ſecret Intelligence with His Majeſty; and as the Emperor, at that time, was engaged in a Bloody War againſt the Turks, ſhe inceſſantly importuned him, until he had concluded an Offenſive and Defenſive League with His Imperial Majeſty. The Almighty brought all that to paſs for the relief of Vienna, which the Turks had Beſieged; and beyond all perad⯑venture, had alſo been taken, had not His Poliſh Majeſty come to Relieve it. However, ſo lively and impatient a Princeſs, could not but ſhew her reſentment much more to the Abbot of Po⯑lignac, becauſe the preſent Affair was of far grea⯑ter conſequence, than any thing that had paſſed for⯑merly; and the World ſaw, by the violence of her Reſentment, that ſhe would continue it all her Life. She ſent to him to have her Picture again; and becauſe he refuſed to reſtore it, thinking ſtill to amuſe her, ſhe immediately ſent the ſame Per⯑ſon, that had formerly ſpoke to him, to let him know, That if he would not reſtore it in a friend⯑ly manner, ſhe would oblige him to do it by force. The Ambaſſador, who was ſenſible how ſhe had treated the Marquis of Vitry, would not run the riſque of a ſecond refuſal He returned her Pi⯑cture; and ſeeing the Queen had broke off all meaſures with him, he obſerved none with her, but what her Sex and Dignity obliged him to. In the mean time, he diſtributed ſome ſmall Money he had received, among the Commanders of the Army of the Crown, and of that of Lithuania. They thought it convenient to refuſe it; but as all he gave them was not capable to ſatisfie their hungry Appetites, ſo they were not the more oblig'd by it, to comply with his Deſign.

An Officer of the Army of the Crown, who was the Elector of Brandenburg's Subject, having [98] heard even thoſe who received the Money, vent their Railleries, reſolv'd to come and acquaint His Majeſty of it at Verſailles, believing the King would certainly reward him liberally; ſo quitting his Charge, and leaving that Country expreſly, he paſſed through all Germany, and arriving in Hol⯑land, came to the Marſhal Bo [...]ffler's Army, upon the Frontiers of the Spaniſh Flanders. The Officer of the main Guard having ſtopped him, was inform'd by him, who he was, whence he came, and in ſome meaſure, of the nature of his Buſineſs; and ſent him to the Marſhal, to acquaint him of what he was not willing to declare there. This Stranger did not know one Word of French; but as he ſpoke Latin to perfection, he made the General eaſily underſtand, That he came from Po⯑land, and that he had Affairs of moment, relating to that Country; and this is all he would tell him, as if the Marſhal had not been worthy of his Secret. The General ſeeing a Perſon of an ill mein, that pleaded nothing in his favour, but ra⯑ther gave him an ill opinion of him, was like to cauſe him to be taken up; but conſidering he would do better to ſend him under a ſure Guard to Court, he put him into the hands of an Officer, whom he order'd to take two or three Troopers for his Eſcorte.

The Officer went along with him to Verſailles, where this Man was reputed a Spy, as ſoon as he offer'd to ſpeak: For after what the Abbot of Po⯑lignac had Wrote to them, they were fully per⯑ſwaded, that the Affairs of the Prince of Conty went as well as they could wiſh in that Country; they would not believe a tittle of what he alledg'd, it being quite contrary to Polignac's Relation. He told the Secretary of State, to whom the Marſhal had ſent him, That they were highly miſtaken, if they believ'd, that the Poles would ever chuſe that Prince for their King. They ask'd him the [99] reaſon; but he not being able to produce any o⯑ther than that I mention'd but now, it was reck⯑on'd ſo bad a one, that he was immediately ſent to Priſon. They were reſolv'd to draw up an In⯑dictment againſt him; but Monſ. D'Argenſon, who was employ'd to Try him, being a Man full of Juſtice and Equity, had no ſooner examin'd him, but he found it plain, that all his Crime conſiſted in having thought to make his Fortune, by bring⯑ing this News. He reported the ſame thing to the Court; and the Proceſs againſt this pretended Criminal, conſiſting only of an Interrogatory or two, it was dropt, till they ſaw how the Election of Poland would go.

The Duke of Saxony thought it convenient, in the mean time, to make a faint ſhow of the Catho⯑lick Religion, without having the leaſt inclination to it. He ſaw that it was abſolutely neceſſary for obtaining the Crown of Poland: ſo having brought over to his Intereſt a Biſhop of his own Family, that was of that Religion; this Prelate, at the Emperor's ſollicitation, gave him a Certificate, That he had privately Abjured Lutheraniſm. This they ſhewed ſecretly to the Palatines that were in the Auſtrian Party, who ſeem'd to have no other view in Correſponding with it, than to advance Prince James's Election: At leaſt, the World be⯑liev'd ſo, and France was of that opinion, ſo that they did not dream that ever that Elector had thought in the leaſt of the Crown. The Queen of Poland was impos'd upon, as well as others; the Palatines delay'd Affairs on purpoſe, that they might be more courted, and have the opportunity of filling their Purſes. The Elector was obliged to borrow Money from all hands, to forward his Intereſt. The Elector of Brandenburg lent him conſiderable Sums upon a Mortgage of the Baillages that lay convenient for him. He like⯑wiſe rais'd immenſe Sums in his own Dominions, [100] upon the pretence that being in the Emperor's Ser⯑vice, he wanted the aſſiſtance of his own People, be⯑cauſe it was not poſſible for the Emperor to pay the Subſidies they had agreed upon. Moreover, inſtead of making his Correſpondence with the Duke of Erandenburg to appear, he feign'd he was at variance with him, upon the account of the Domains that both of them had upon the Confines of Poland; and accordingly, both of them march'd thither their Troops, as if they deſign'd imme⯑diately to come to a Rupture. France that had too many Enemies to deal with, to be indifferent in deſiring to get rid of at leaſt ſome part of 'em, was catch'd as well in this Snare, as in the former. They were willing to believe, that this would not fail to make a powerful diverſion in their favour; and as it was impoſſible for ſome part of the German Princes to be meer Spectators in the Dif⯑ferences of theſe two Princes, ſo they expected a conſiderable eaſe upon each ſide.

The march of theſe Troops was very cunning⯑ly contriv'd, and diſprov'd with a witneſs, what had been publiſh'd a while ago, to the diſadvan⯑tage of the Houſe of Auſtria. Some would have it, that for many Years together that Family had been always Trick'd by France; and that by ob⯑ſerving only their ordinary Courſe, as if there had been none elſe more ready and ſure to for⯑ward their Deſigns, they had ſo degenerated from the Wiſdom and Greatneſs of Charles V. that all Europe had forgot them; but as they manag'd this Intrigue, that was contriv'd at Vienna, they were overjoy'd to know that France had loſt its Preten⯑ſions to the Title.

While theſe conſiderable Affairs were tranſact⯑ing in Poland, ſome other Matters paſs'd in France of leſs conſequence for the State, but in which ſome particular Perſons found themſelves more interreſs'd. Paris, that had furniſh'd the Scene for [101] that Lady, who had met with ſo ill uſage from her own Domeſticks, afforded alſo the following, which is extraordinary enough to plead for ſome place in theſe Annals. It appear'd to me ſo uncommon, that I doubted for a long time, whether I ſhould inſert it. I was ſenſible, that among ſo many certain Things as I here preſent you with, I ought not to run the riſque of Writing any that I have rea⯑ſon to ſuſpect: In fine, this Matter has been con⯑firm'd to me by ſo many Hands, that if I be de⯑ceiv'd, it muſt be, becauſe they took pleaſure to impoſe upon me. I receiv'd ſix different Letters from Paris, that contain'd the ſame thing; ſo that, after all the Precautions I us'd, I ſuppoſe, that however extraordinary the Matter appears, it may be credited, after the enquiry I have made in it. In effect, if we ſhould doubt of all the ſurprizing Things Paris affords, we muſt ne⯑ceſſarily doubt of all that happens there; for every Day produces ſuch Accidents, as one would hardly believe without infallible Teſti⯑mony.

A Girl was forc'd to profeſs, by the uncon⯑trolable Will of Parents, who by this means meant to take her off from the Inclinations ſhe had for a Perſon, they would not have her Marry; notwithſtanding ſhe was ſhut up, ſhe always con⯑tinu'd a Reſpect for him, that troubled her ex⯑treamly, in the exerciſes of her new Profeſſion. Her Lover, for his part, could never forget her; but having ſeen her put on the Habit, he ought to have laid aſide all hopes of ever enjoying her. Yet being always tormented with his Paſſion, which was ſo much the more violent, that while the Young Nun continu'd in the way of the World, ſhe gave him all the demonſtrations of her Eſteem that he could reaſonably deſire; he robb'd his Father (a Rich Merchant) of Twenty thouſand Livres in Gold, Cloath'd himſelf in a Girl's Habit, and went [102] to the Convent where ſhe was, after having hid himſelf for a whole Month in the City, pretend⯑ing to be Sick. His firſt Compliment to the Con⯑vent was, That he was reſolv'd to become a Nun. He told 'em, he was come from the Country, and was the Daughter of Parents that had made a conſiderable Eſtate by Trafficking; and having ſhew'd his Trea⯑ſure to theſe Nuns, it ſecur'd him more in their eſteem, than any Profeſſion whatſoever.

So extream deſirous were they to have it, that they eaſily diſpenc'd with inquiring any farther after the place of her Nativity, or what Faults this diſguis'd Girl might be liable to in her Youth. They were ſatisfy'd, for that ſhe promiſed them the whole, provided they would Maintain her while ſhe Liv'd. However, ſhe told them, that they might not think ſhe was ill natur'd, That if ſhe meant to let them have the whole Sum, it was, becauſe ſhe had no Relations in France; That her Father and Mother, who had come thither, were origi⯑nally Engliſh. And thus having told them a thouſand pretty Stories, at length ſhe concluded, That ſhe was a poor Orphan, and would be very glad to lay out her Money to the beſt advantage; or at leaſt, to ſecure herſelf from the Miſeries of Neceſ⯑ſity.

This Relation of the pretended Orphan appear'd ſo ingenuous to the Hungry Nuns, that they re⯑ſolv'd to receive her into their Cloyſter, without troubling themſelves with any farther inquiry into her Circumſtances, than what their Eyes could afford them into the goodneſs of her Coin. How⯑ever, there aroſe a little difficulty betwixt the Parties; for the Nuns deſir'd to have the Money preſently deliver'd up to them, or at leaſt, when ſhe aſſum'd the Habit; but ſhe, for her part, pre⯑tended only to do it when ſhe Profeſs'd; tho' ſhe meant never to do it; for ſhe deſign'd her Mony for ſome other uſe than what the Nuns had ever [103] thought of: And to that purpoſe told them, That ſhe could not be ſatisfy'd, whether their Rules and manner of Life would ſuit with her Temper, and till ſhe was fully aſſured of that, they ought to demand no other Conditions of her, but that of paying handſomly for her Board, which ſhe would never ſcruple to do; that in the mean time, ſhe would put out her Money to Intereſt, which would fall to them in courſe, whenever ſhe had aſſum'd the Profeſſion; but that ſhe intended to ſecure herſelf before ſhe was ſtripped of her Money. She de⯑manded nothing but what was juſt; and beſides, threaten'd to find out ſome other place, if they re⯑fuſed any longer to accept of her Conditions. Being afraid to ſlip the opportunity, they agreed with her upon her own Terms. So, this preten⯑ded young Gentlewoman, having put on the White Vail, in a few days, beſtow'd ſo Li⯑berally upon her Habit, as if Money had coſt her nothing. All the Nuns were wonderfully edified by her generoſity, only her Miſtreſs, in the midſt of all their Joy for ſo rich a Prize, continued ſtill in her wonted indiſpoſition, as if ſhe had been altogether mortify'd. The reſem⯑blance ſhe found between herſelf and her Spark, open'd her Wounds afreſh, that were ſtill too tender, not to be ſenſible of any thing that touched them.

The Scene being thus over, The Novice be⯑gan ſoon to accoſt the Lady that oblig'd him to diſſemble his Sex. But being unwilling to entertain her in the Torment ſhe was in, ſhe told her all of a ſudden, what Love had forced her to do; ſhe added moreover, That ſhe was fully reſolv'd to Starve herſelf, if ſhe would ſhew her no Compaſſion; That ſhe was cer⯑tainly inform'd, ſhe had aſſum'd the Profeſſion againſt her Inclination; and if ſhe had yet any ſenſe of the paſſion ſhe had for her, while with her Parents, ſhe had no reaſon to doubt, but the [104] recent Teſtimony ſhe now gave her, would en⯑gage her to enter into all the meaſures ſhe would adviſe her; That ſhe had fallen upon this Inven⯑tion, not to rob her of her Honour, but to reſtore her to to the tranquility ſhe had loſt, and to re⯑cover her own alſo; That ſhe could enjoy no more after ſhe had enter'd into the Convent; That ſhe wanted not Money to carry them thorow, in exp [...]ctation of a better Fortune; and tho' the Sum was not of great importance, yet ſhe kn [...]w how to manage it to that advantage, as would ſe⯑cure them from the Injuries of Neceſſity; That ſhe was fully reſolv'd to Marry her, if ſhe pleas [...]d; That it was certain her Vows were of no force, ſince ſhe was compell'd to them, and ſo it depended in⯑tirely upon herſelf, to be freed from her preſent Captivity, ſince it was not poſſible for her to be happy without her; That neither of them ought to regard the meanneſs of the Preſent ſhe offer'd her now, in compariſon of what both of them could have reaſonably expected, if Love had not embroil'd them with their Parents; That ſhe would endeavour to be at eaſe without them, and of⯑tentimes there was more ſatisfaction in a middle ordinary F [...]rtune, than in a ſumptuous one; That great R [...]ches are always attended with great Cares, and provided that a Husband and Wife, who love one another tenderly, be out of the reach of Neceſſity, they may be indifferent for other Super⯑fluities.

The Nun found this way of reaſoning very perti⯑nent▪ it [...]eing altogether conformable to her own Senſe and Inclination. She agreed with her Lover in all things. They paſs'd three Months in this In⯑trigue [...] doing nothing but what became the ſtricteſt Honour, the there might have been ſome incroach⯑ments upon Decercy. The Novice feign'd her⯑ſelf Sick alle [...]ging, (after they had asked her a great many times, What ſhe ail'd) That her Sick⯑neſs [105] proceeded only from the Auſterity of the Convent, which ſhe could never be able to go through. The Diſcreet Mothers were a little vexed to hear her ſpeak after that rate, forſeeing that the twenty thouſand Livers they had rely'd upon, would ſlip out of their Fingers; but there being no remedy, they were fain to reſtore to her her tem⯑poral Habit, and give her her Paſs. She preſent⯑ly took up her Money, and gave it to the Ban⯑kers for Bills of Exchange upon Italy, where ſhe was reſolved to paſs her time, as ſoon as ſhe made ſure of her Miſtreſs. Having mutually adjuſted all things; the Night be⯑fore they put their Plot in Execution, the Nun uninter'd a Siſter that had been juſt Buried, carried her to her Bed, and having ſet Fire to it, made her eſcape into the Garden of the Con⯑vent, where her Spark had faſtned a Ladder of Cords to a certain place of the Wall they had condeſcended upon. He waited for her at the other ſide with a Coach, and receiving her into it, while the whole Convent was in an uproar about the Fire, carried her to a Lodging he had intirely at his command.

The poor Nuns had much to do to quench the Fire that frighted them extreamly, for fear of having their whole Convent deſtroyed by it. However, having maſtered it at length, tho' with a conſiderable loſs, they all of them run immedi⯑ately to the Chamber where the Fire firſt began, and being extreamly troubled that ſhe did not appear, they doubted not in the leaſt but ſhe had periſhed in the Flames. They were ſoon con⯑firm'd in the certainty of their belief, when they found the remnants of a dead Body in the ruins of that Chamber, thinking really the reſt had been conſumed by the Fire. Nothing was heard but Grief and Lamentation upon all hands; ſome re⯑hearſing the praiſes of the dead Nun, whom they [106] thought they could never lament ſufficiently. O⯑thers who were as much intereſs'd as compaſſio⯑nate, griev'd more for the loſs of the Houſe, than of the Dead; and while they amuſed them⯑ſelves with theſe or ſuch like Reflections, not one of them dream'd of what had happen'd; but the moſt probable thing they ſaid, was, That her Pa⯑rents when acquainted with her unhappy Diſaſter, muſt needs Cenſure themſelves, in regard they had forced her to aſſume the Profeſſion againſt her Inclination.

In the mean time, the two Lovers eſcap'd into Italy, purſuant to their deſign: There they were Marry'd, having met with a Prieſt to their Mind; or one perhaps ſo tender of their Intereſt, as to eaſe a poor Girl of her Vows, without giving her the trouble of applying herſelf to any other Authority, than his own. The young Husband applied himſelf to Traffick, in which he was ſo fortunate, as in twenty Years time, to make a conſiderable Eſtate. In that time, Providence bleſſed him with a numerous Off ſpring; but at length he died in the five and fortieth Year of his Age. The Lady, who was much about the ſame Age, notwithſtanding the tender Love and Proſperity of her Husband, being ſtill frighted with a check of Conſcience, reſolv'd upon a Journey to Rome, to obtain the Holy-Father's Abſolution for what ſhe had done. The Pope refuſed it abſo⯑lutely, without ſhe promiſed faithfully to return to the Convent. She was extreamly unwilling to comply, in regard of the tender Affection ſhe had for her Children. In fine, preferring the tran⯑quility of her Conſcience to every thing, ſhe conquer'd all obſtacles that would have hindred her, and promis'd His Holineſs to obey his Com⯑mand: She had a favourable Paſſage by Sea into France, together with her whole Family, which ſhe carry'd along with her to Rome, to move [107] His Holineſs to a Compaſſion for them. When ſhe arrived at Marſeilles, ſhe took the way to Paris, concealing from the World, both Her⯑ſelf, and her Affairs. She lodg'd ſome time In⯑cognito in the Suburbs of St. Germans, to diſpoſe of her Family, before ſhe would withdraw into the Cloyſter. And tho' ſhe had put her Affairs in order, ſhe would by no means go thither, before ſhe was aſſured of a civil Uſage. She was not ignorant of the terrible Penalty they were liable to, that leap'd over the Walls of the Con⯑vent, as ſhe had done. That ſhe ſhould not be expoſed to it, ſhe offered underhand, Twenty thouſand Livres for her Pardon. This Summ charmed all the Nuns Eyes, which they looked upon as a Preſent ſent them from Heaven. They were mightily ſurprized at her Reſurrection, and acquainted her Friends with it, who doubted a long time, whether they ought to rejoice at it, or ſhew her ſome Mark of their diſpleaſure, for wandring about the World, with a Perſon, upon whoſe account ſhe had been forced to turn Nun. As it was never ſeen, that all the World was of the ſame Opinion, ſo ſome continued their Indigna⯑tion againſt her, and would never ſee her; others did not mind the matter ſo much: But all of 'em agreed to have her ſtript of the Mony ſhe brought from Italy, pretending it was not in her power to diſpoſe of it to her Children. She ſecured it in a Perſon's Hands whom ſhe had reaſon to con⯑fide in, to have it divided amongſt her Children, whenever they ſhould either Marry, or eſtabliſh themſelves ſome other way in the World. How⯑ever, they were not the only Perſons who gaped after it; her deceaſed Husband's Friends began alſo to beſtir themſelves upon the news of what had paſſed. Both Parties commenced their Pro⯑ceſs againſt the Children, pretending to have them declared Baſtards. So much for this extraordi⯑nary [108] Scene, which, in effect, appeared in ſuch a manner to me, that I ſhould never have had the confidence to have mentioned it here, without hav⯑ing taken all imaginable Precautions with refe⯑rence to it. It is not very hard to conjecture what Deciſion Juſtice will make in it. However, it will hardly be ſoon determined. The Judges are ſeldom very prompt in deciding Cauſes, when the Parties are in Circumſtances to diſpenſe with Money. They believe it would derogate too much from their laudable Cuſtom, to diſpatch readily Affairs that afford Gleanings.

The Court being about that time at Marli, the Count of Chamilly was nam'd amongſt others to go thither. In a diſcourſe of the War, ſome young Gentlemen there took a ſhare in the Conver⯑ſation: And the King ask'd the Count of Gram⯑mont, ſoftly, how he liked the young Gentle⯑men's way of reaſoning. Grammont, who has a pleaſant freedom in all his Expreſſions, being glad to make uſe of this opportunity to ſerve the Count of Chamilly, who had been neglected for a conſiderable time, anſwer'd His Majeſty, That he ought not to be ſurpriz'd at theſe young Men's way of reaſoning; for if any were at the pains to ask them, if ever the Grave was Beſieged, they would ſay nothing of what had paſs'd there, nor who had defended the Place. The King perceiv'd his Deſign, which was to up⯑braid His Majeſty, that after ſo glorious an A⯑ction, Chamilly had not been rewarded as others had, who had not his merit to plead for them. But it is no ſurprizing matter now a-days, to ſee Actions of Renown ſhot in their Carier. Courage and Conduct doth not intitle a Man to a plentiful Fortune, he muſt alſo be learn'd in the Art of Truckling to the Miniſters. The Marquis of Louvois was extraordinary upon this account; and however highly he valued the Good and Advantage of the State, which none [109] could deny to him; yet to ſerve the King faith⯑fully was no ſufficient Character to recommend one, unleſs he were his Creature: Without that nothing would do; it was his conſtant Maxim, that it was impoſſible to be His Ma⯑jeſty's Friend, without being the Miniſters. I ſhall neither juſtifie nor condemn him; there is a great deal to be ſaid on both ſides. His Ma⯑jeſty, who without diſpute, is the moſt ſincere and prudent Prince in the Univerſe, took this oc⯑caſion to do Chamilly all the juſtice that could be expected. So that thoſe who were entirely Strangers to the Siege of the Grave, as the Count of Grammont pretended, might eaſily be inform'd of all that paſs'd there.

In the mean time, the Spaniards being alarm'd at the Preparations the King was making in Pro⯑vence, acquainted the Engliſh and Dutch afreſh of i [...], to the end they might ſend their Fleet into the Mediterranean, to make Head againſt the King's. Theſe two Powers, being full as weary of the War as His Moſt Chriſtian Majeſty, for that no advantage could accrue to them by continuing of it, amuſed them from time to time with fair Promiſes, without troubling themſelves to per⯑form them. They thought it convenient to allow France to act its utmoſt Efforts upon that ſide, that the Houſe of Auſtria might become the more tractable, and oppoſe no more a Tranquility, of which all Europe ſtood in need. The Pope made uſe of his Intereſt in vain, to draw over that Houſe to it, ſo great was their confidence, that France would at laſt be oppreſſed by ſo many Enemies as were United againſt it. The Duke of Savoy's falling off, gained nothing upon their obſtinacy, tho' it eaſed France very ſenſibly. The Pope could never offer his Mediation to decide the Quarrel, moſt of the Parties intereſſed, being of another Religion. In fine, the Swediſh King accom⯑pliſhed [110] what His Holineſs could never bring to paſs. He made the Parties agree to accept of him, as Mediator of their Differences. The Ca⯑ſtle of Ryſwick was named for the Place of their Congreſs, tho' the Emperor oppoſed it upon ſe⯑veral accounts. They endeavoured to accommo⯑date Matters in an amicable way, which was ex⯑ceeding hard to do, conſidering the Exorbitant De⯑mands of the Houſe of Auſtria. Theſe inſiſted always upon the Reſtitution of all they had loſt ſince the Treaty of the Pyrenees, and had no re⯑gard to the two later Treaties of Aix-la Chapel, and Nimiguen; alledging, They had only been obliged to make them, by a ſuperior Force, to a⯑void the utter Deſolation of their States. The Duke of Lorrain, for his part, demanded the Re⯑ſtitution of his Domains, without any regard to the Conditions that were agreed upon by the Treaty of Nimiguen; which ſeemed ſo inſupportable to his Father, that he choſe rather never to enter into the Treaty, than accept of them upon theſe Terms. A great many other Princes came alſo to thwart it, who demanded Reparation of the King for a great many Places and Villages, that they alledg'd, he had diveſted them of; inſomuch, that His moſt Chriſtian Majeſty might have been compared to the Bird in the Fable, from which all the other Birds (his Enemies) meant to pluck a Feather.

It had been very hard to redreſs all theſe Con⯑fuſions, if the common Miſery had not obliged the Engliſh and Hollanders to remove the Diffi⯑culty; it had like to have proved a Gordian-Knot, where the Sword is more neceſſary than Art. But as theſe two Powers, to ſpeak properly, were the very Life of the Alliance, that had no motion, but from this Spring; they asked the French Ple⯑nipotentiaries at Ryſwick, if they meant to ſtand to the Preliminaries that were ſtipulated with Monſieur Calliers; otherwiſe, it were to no pur⯑poſe [111] to Meet; but if they intended faithfully to perform what was agreed upon, they would ſoon remove all other obſtacles. Theſe Preliminaries were of no leſs conſequence, than the Reſtitu⯑tion of two intire Provinces, and of one Place of equal importance to all the reſt. Theſe two Powers doubted, that Calliers had made theſe ad⯑vances of his own Head, that he might with the greater facility, diſcover their Pretenſions; but his Colleagues having aſſured them it was the King's ſincere Intention, they went on with the Treaty, in ſuch a manner, as the World might perceive, they meant to bring it to a happy Con⯑cluſion.

In the mean time, the Court of France increas'd in the number of Subjects, by the Conqueſts it made during the courſe of the War, tho it had to do with ſo many Enemies, as one would have thought were ſufficient to bring it to Deſolation. No⯑thing but Coaches was to be ſeen at Verſailles; ſome of them with the Ornaments peculiar to the Electors of the Empire; and that was become ſo faſhionable, that even the French themſelves had them ſet upon theirs. However, the better ſort of Men deſpiſed it, ſeeing no apparent rea⯑ſon, why they were ſo ready to imitate the Cu⯑ſ [...]oms of the Empire; for if His Majeſty had firmly pretended to it, he was ſo far from it now, that there was not the leaſt appearance of his ar⯑riving to it. However, there were ſome of theſe Gentlemen who had a juſt Title to carry them; particularly the Count of Egmont, who Married Madamoiſelle De Conac, the Archbiſhop of Aix's Niece, His Majeſty conferr'd the Honours of the Louvre upon her: And theſe were juſtly due to her, becauſe her Husband was Lineally Deſcended of the Dukes of Ghelderland, which created to her a great deal of envy amongſt the other Ladies of Quality; inſomuch, that the Mareſchal d'Eſtree's [112] Lady could not diſſemble her Reſentment of it. One day at Dinner with Monſ. Pontchartrain, ſhe ſaid, without regarding if any there would reſent her diſcourſe, She admir'd, that the Count of Egmont would condeſcend to Marry ſuch a Girl as Madamoiſelle Conac. The Chevalier d'Obtere, Governor of Couelloure, over-heard her, and be⯑ing Uncle to the young Gentlewoman, could not avoid being concern'd at it. He told the Gentleman who ſat next him, How unbecoming it was for Morin the Jew's Daughter, to talk after that man⯑ner, of a Perſon of his Niece's Quality: that he own'd the Honour the Alliance had done both to her and all her Friends: but great as it was, it fail'd of that the Morins had by the Blood of the Eſtrees; that the difference was not ſo great between the Egmonts and the Conacs, as betwixt the Etrees and the Burgeſſes of the City of Tours. All the Company expected, that the Chevalier would not fail to reſent it after that manner; and knowing that the Lady was ignorant of the Chevalier's Intereſt in Madamoiſelle, they continu'd the Converſation upon the ſame ſubject with her, that ſhe might avoid a ſecond overſight. Then ſhe became ſenſible of her fault, and of the pri⯑vate reproof they gave her; but whether ſhe had done it, becauſe ſhe knew him not, or through im⯑prudence, ſhe never made him any acknowledge⯑ment of it.

Lent follow'd ſoon after, and a certain Monk, nam'd Seraphin, Guardian of the Capucins at Meudon, was choſen to Preach before the King that Seaſon; he behav'd himſelf with ſuch free⯑dom, that it was generally believ'd he would be forbid the Pulpit; but His Majeſty was ſo intent upon his Devotion, as ſome alledge, out of a principle of Chriſtianity, in favour of the Peace, that he overlook'd a great many things, which at any other time he would have maintain'd with [113] the point of his Sword: I ſay, His Majeſty, who honours all Men of Probity, was ſo far from be⯑ing offended at it, that he own'd, nothing pleas'd him more than his Sermons, and deſir'd him to continue them after the ſame manner, nor did the King ever neglect any of them; but perceiving that the Duke of Rochefoucaut never came to them, he ask'd him the reaſon. The Duke re⯑ply'd, That he had no Seat in the Church. His Majeſty conferr'd the Biſhop of Orlean's, his firſt Almoner's Seat upon him, the Biſhop being then at his Cathedral, two days journey from Paris, whence returning very ſoon, he de⯑ſir'd to have his Seat again; the Duke refus'd it, pretending he never had it but out of Decen⯑cy; and now His Majeſty conferring it upon him, he meant to ſhut him out of it. This difference made no leſs noiſe than Monſieur Boleau's Lu⯑trin. Both parties were back'd by their Friends in their pretenſions, and if they durſt to have fought for it, they were ſufficiently animated againſt each other to have done it; but reſting ſatisfied to ſhew, that they were both Men of Spirit, they turn'd their Indignation to ſollicite His Majeſty, that he would be pleas'd to decide the cauſe in favour of the reſpective Party.

The King gave it for the Duke, which vex'd the Prelate to that degree, that, out of ſpite, he return⯑ed to his Dioceſs. He carried the Abbot of Coaſlin along with him, as if, by that, he meant to engage him in his Reſentment. This Abbot had the ſurvivorſhip of the Prelate's Charge, as firſt Almoner, and the expectation of the firſt Biſhoprick ſhould fall: Beſides, his Uncle had no reaſon to complain of the favours of the Court. After the Death of Monſieur Chanvallon, Archbiſhop of Paris, the King had awarded him his nomination for a Cardinal's Cap, which he had formerly gratified the Archbiſhop with. [114] So that neither of them could be excus'd from im⯑prudence, that ſhew'd ſo much Paſſion, for ſo ſmall a cauſe.

About the ſame time, his Brother, the Duke of Coaſlin had another kind of Vexation that ſeem'd to be better grounded than theirs: His Coach was Arreſted for Debt, which the Advo⯑cate, Maſter of Requeſts, and Regiſter of the Points of Honour, before the Mareſchals of France, al⯑ledg'd was unduly done, becauſe of his Dignity. Some years ago, he made a great deal of noiſe about it, in favour of the Duke of Ventadour, who ſuffer'd the ſame Affront; but as he was far inferior in Wit and Reputation to Monſieur Pom⯑ponne, his Brother-in-law, after he had been cru⯑ſhed in the Defence he undertook in Ventadour's Affair, he never dar'd to appear in defence of Coaſlin. He was e'en ready to lay down his Charge before the Mareſchals of France, which made him the more wary of engaging into new Troubles, for fear of ending as he had begun.

Tho' this was ſome Mortification for the Duke, to be oblig [...] to Walk home a-foot, yet about the ſame time, a more preſſing Vexation afflict⯑ed the Dutcheſs or Svlly; for the Princeſs of Furſtemberg caus'd to ſeize both her Bed and Furniture, for her Rent: tho' ſhe had run only three Years in Arrear, there being thirteen Years Rent due at the Death of the Duke her Huſ⯑band, of which the Dutcheſs had clear'd ten, ſince ſhe was a Widow: But there being a miſunder⯑ſtanding between them, and the Princeſs alledging, that the Dutcheſs had ſpoke with more freedom than decency of her, when her Husband had been Wounded at Hunting, ſhe laid hold of this op⯑portunity, to make her repent of her imprudence. Theſe two Affairs were repreſented to the King, to kn [...]w if his Majeſty would exempt the Duke [...] [...], or reduce the [...] [...]o their [115] immovables. But His Majeſty's Anſwer gave them ſmall encouragement; he reply'd, That eve⯑ry one was concern'd to pay their Debts; and tho he did not approve of ſome procceedings, yet it was ſufficient that they were ſcreen'd by Ju⯑ſtice.

The Dutcheſs of Lude's intereſt had bet⯑ter ſucceſs for the Dutcheſs of Vernevil, her Mo⯑ther. The King conferr'd a Penſion of Twelve thouſand Livres upon her, which ſhe had almoſt refus'd, reputing it too mean for a Perſon of her Rank. For as ſhe had the honour to be the Wi⯑dow of the King's Uncle, ſhe thought it her due to be treated as a Princeſs of the Blood, tho' the advantage he boaſted of, came [...] the Left-hand. His Majeſty ſeldom gave them leſs than Twenty thouſand Livres, and ſhe thought it was none of her buſineſs to accept of ſo little, conſidering what others receiv'd, who could not come in competiton with her. In effect, the Count of Brancas enjoy'd Fourteen thouſand Livres for his Life; and after his Death, His Majeſty continu'd it to the Princeſs of Harcourt, his eldeſt Daughter. A great many others had alſo larger Penſions than her's, which vex'd her to that degree, that ſhe told her Daugh⯑ter, She meant to reſign it again freely to the King. The Dutcheſs of Lude, not thinking it convenient for her to reſent after this manner the Firſt-fruits of her favour, diſſwaded her from it; for it is His Majeſty's Prerogative to give, and not to receive Laws.

About that time, the only Son of the Mar⯑quis of Gordes, preſented a Petition to the King, that vex'd the Marquis of Rhodes much more than his Gout, which afflicted him for many Years. The Marquis of Rhodes had married the other Siſter: He was no ſuch Gameſter as his Father; but had a much lighter Head: For, had he been on⯑ly a Gameſter, the Biſhop had pardon'd him, for [116] in that he had been of his own Kidney; but the Prelate thinking him ſomewhat maddiſh, cauſes him to be ſhut up in a Convent. This poor Gentle⯑man believ'd that the Biſhop had impos'd upon His Majeſty in the Affair, and thought he could eaſily perſwade the King of the contrary, had he the honour to ſee him; but as Fools do not think they are ſo, or rather believe they are the wiſeſt of Men, if you credit their Oath: The King did not think it convenient to truſt him: He was afraid to be deceiv'd, as he had been late⯑ly by a Num-ſcul, who had eſcap'd out of the Baſtille, where his Friends had ſhut him up upon the ſame account. He was a Cadet of the Houſe of Uſez, but ſo little reform'd by his Impriſonment, that immediately upon his eſcape he committed the height of Folly in marrying very miſerably. He choſe a Woman that was neither Rich, Young, nor Handſome, and for an additional comfort, the Widow of a Common Fellow, that became a Gentleman only at his Death; for they did him the favour to cut his Throat in conſideration of his Wife, who was more honeſtly deſcended; for had they treated him according to his merit, they were affraid ſhe might lye under the imputation of the Wife of a Man that was Hang'd. But his Folly did not ſtop there, for he carried her a⯑long with him to Verſails and St. Cloud, where he had reviv'd the Angels that had died a long time before. But as People have ſometimes more plea⯑ſure in Fools than in Wiſe Men, every one di⯑ſturb'd his Brain the more, in making him believe they delighted in his Folly.

Much about that time, there happen'd a quar⯑rel betwixt two Perſons of Quality at St. Cloud, who treated one another after the rate of true Billingſgate. Their Sex excus'd them from the uſe of the Sword, to decide it, but being equal⯑ly provided with the A [...]ms of the Sex, they fair⯑ly [117] diſputed for the Victory. The one was Prin⯑ceſs of Montaban, and the other Madam of Gra⯑ncei. At laſt, both having ſpent their Spirits in the Controverſie, without the leaſt reſpect to one anothers reputation, Madam of Grancie appeal'd to Monſieur—who was preſent, to decide their Difference. The Princeſs accepted freely of the motion, and having call'd him that minute, intreated him to judge the Affair impartially. He gave thim an attentive hearing, but after both of them had taken the pains to ſet forth their Cauſe, he made anſwer, That he diſcharged the Proceſs. They ask'd him in a grumbling way, what he meant? But the anſwer he made them, ſhock'd them more than all that went before. He reply'd, That he had no other Sentence to give to ſuch people as them, and all they offer'd was as light as Wind. They could never get him to give another Reaſon, which made them reſolve upon a mutual Accommodation, without giving any body any further trouble upon the matter.

This gave great joy to the Judge, who finding them afterwards in a good underſtanding with one another, accoſted them in this manner, I told you (ſaid he) That the Sentence I pronounced, was the only one that could be given amongſt ſuch People as you: Women of your Quality quarrel and agree again with equal facility; and unleſs a Lover be in the caſe, there is no fear of an Acco⯑modation. Had the Duke of Orleans, who loves Novelty, been choſen Judge of their Difference, he had poſſibly decided it rather in favour of the one than the other. Tho' he had formerly ſome inclinations for Madan Grancie, he thought now, that her Face wrinkled with Age, was not to be put in competition with the Charms of the Princeſs of Montauban. This Lady made him Laugh when he had no mind to it; ſhe inherited [118] from her Anceſtors, a Genius for Comedy, for ſhe was Daughter to the Count of Nogent, and Siſter to the Chevalier of Nogent, who is ſtill alive, and whoſe only Trade, ſince he left the War, was to make the Marquis of Louvois laugh. This Miniſter had him along with him in his own Colaſh, in all his Journies; nor was he the on⯑ly perſon who lov'd to divert himſelf with Childiſh Expreſſions; for Monſieur Colbert at his leiſure Hours, had alſo People to entertain him with ridiculous Stories. It's pity but Madam D'Anoy, and Madam de Moral, had thought at that time of diverting him with their Fairies; they had been often very acceptable. Thus you ſee great Men have their weak ſide as well as others; and there is nothing that convinces us more of the frailty of humane Nature.

The pleaſure the Duke of Orleans found in the Princeſs of Montauban's Converſation, made him reſolve to carry her along with him to Marly. All are not free to go thither, and it muſt be by Stratagem that leave is obtain'd to go; for after the King is earneſtly ſollicited, he reckons it a par⯑ticular Favour to grant it, as in effect it is, to go where the Prince goes, and to appear before him in a place where there is no confuſion to be ſeen, tho' it prevails in other places where the Court comes. The Duke's expectation was fruſtrated, for His Majeſty refus'd his Requeſt. However, the Duke not being much diſcourag'd at the firſt Repulſe, inſiſted in his demand, ho⯑ping to obtain it at laſt by his importunity. At laſt ſeeing His Majeſty inexorable, he intreated him at leaſt to impart his Reaſon. No doubt tho' the King, who always goes upon good grounds, had a very plauſible Reaſon, but ſuſpecting it might prove diſobliging to the Princeſs, he deſir'd, in a ſmiling way, to be excus'd from a thing he had reſolv'd not to tell. The Duke, who is always [119] very preſſing in what he undertakes, obſerving that the King had only [...]old him ſo in a ſmiling way, importun'd His Majeſty more than ever to know his Reaſon. His Majeſty to be freed from his importunity, at laſt made him anſwer, That becauſe he was ſo very earneſt, he would tell him freely; That he was always well pleas'd to ſee handſome Women, and the Princeſs of Mon⯑tauban being none of the number, he would not accuſtom his Eyes to look upon her. In effect, ſhe was very far from being Handſome. Her Face was mark'd with ſcars from her Infancy; ſhe was Hunch'd Back'd, but found the ſecret to con⯑ceal it in ſome meaſure, by the help of Steel Bodies; beſides, being ſomewhat advanc'd in Years, ſhe was the more inſupportable. How⯑ever, being ſtill as Handſome in the Duke's Opini⯑on, as a great many other Women whom His Majeſty Honour'd with the ſame Favour, he ſtill pleaded on her behalf. He ask'd His Ma⯑jeſty if ſhe was not as Handſome as ſuch and ſuch Ladies whom he always carried along with him to the Caſtle of Marly. The King fell a Laughin [...]g when he ſaw his Brother take it ſo pa⯑tiently, and left him to continue his Diſcourſe which tended only to perſwade him, that the La⯑dies which he mentioned, had no better Title to ſuch marks of diſtinction than ſhe, for whom he was pleading; for he made him no other anſ⯑wer than what he told him at firſt.

Madam de Montauban reſolving to go to Ver⯑ſailles at any rate; and ſeeing all the Duke's Endeavours prove Fruitleſs, thought of a more plauſible pretext. She applied herſelf to the Princeſs of Harcourt, who had the ſecret of ob⯑taining a great many things, when others met with a refuſal. Five hundred Crowns brought her Project to bear; and by theſe means ſhe had the Honour to go to Marly, an Honour ſhe had [120] aſpir'd to of a long time, and which was like to have coſt her her Wits, if ſhe had not obtain'd it. The King was well enough pleas'd with the grant he had made; he found her very pleaſant and good Humour'd; and this Lady, who never knew what t [...] was to faſt Fridays or Saturdays, found it no difficulty to comply with what others did there. In effect, finding herſelf in a place where the King never allow'd any one to eat Fleſh, She out of Love to His Majeſty, or out of Fear to diſpleaſe him, did, what neither the Love nor Fear of God were ever capable to oblige her to do. But every perſon there knowing her ordi⯑nary practice in that Affair, ſhe thought it con⯑venient to vindicate herſelf to thoſe who were highly offended at the difference ſhe made be⯑twixt a mortal Man and God. But all ſhe ſaid had rather more Gallantry in it than real Apo⯑logy. She could ſay nothing, but that the Food there, had a taſte very different from the Food of the reſt of Mankind; that the Beams of the Sun of France created another kind of warmth than the ordinary Sun, inſomuch, that there was a certain happineſs under his influence, that was not to be found any where elſe.

But this ſort of Diſcourſe produc'd a quite dif⯑ferent effect from what ſhe expected; for thoſe who blam'd her before, condemn'd her much more now. They thought it had been much more proper for her (as no doubt it was) to have avoided all manner of Apology, than to make uſe of that ſhe made: For as they maintain'd very well, it was an adding of impiety to the ſcandal, to attribute more power to a Man than to God; but ſhe ſuffered them to go on, being ſure to have the wanton Youths on her ſide; for 'tis at Court as at other places, they divert themſelves often with ridiculous Trifles; and [...] [...]eſt and moſt P [...]ous are not always the [121] moſt reſpected. This appear'd too evidently not long after in a difference ſhe had with her Husband. He came to Court alone, while her entry was accompanied with a numerous Train of all ſorts of people, ſhewing by that means the reſpect they had for her. Hence ſhe took occaſion to inſult over him, as if his Solitude had given him an averſion to innocent Mirth. But he reply'd ſo ſmartly home, that ſhe would gladly have di⯑ſpenſed with the ſevere Compliment ſhe oblig'd him to return. They found what he ſaid was ſomewhat extraordinary, eſpecially of one deſ⯑cended of a Family that never had the Reputa⯑tion of being over Witty; for he was the Son of the Duke of Montbaſon, whom they had ſhut up in a Convent for his giddy Brain, at leaſt, that was all the Reaſon they gave for diveſting him of his Eſtate, tho' in good earneſt they would be oblig'd to build more Bedlams than one, if they meant to ſhut up all that are many degrees greater Num ſculls than he.

Debauchery was ſtill in vogue amongſt the Women, and conſequently amongſt the Men; ho' the King omitted nothing that could be done to oblige all People to a juſt obſervance of their Duty. The Italian Comedians, who had a dexterity of Acting every thing happily, took thence an occaſion of introducing ſo many in⯑decencies upon their Stages, that 'twas complain⯑ed of to His Majeſty. This diſpleas'd him the more, that they publiſhed an Advertiſement of repreſenting very ſoon a perſon of Quality. Therefore His Majeſty expell'd them out of the Kingdom; and for a long time he was indifferent as to the Play; and if at any time he order'd them to act before him, it was rather to amuſe the young People, or through policy, than for any pleaſure he himſelf took in it. In effect, it is convenient to keep the [...] in Action, and ſome [122] people allow even of a leſſer evil to obviate a greater. Tho' I hardly believe that the Gentle⯑men of Port Royal would be of that Opinion, were they conſulted in it; and amongſt all the Caſuiſts, we ſhall never find any reaſonable pre⯑tence, that can warrant us to commit any evil. However, His Majeſty had no ſooner form'd this Reſolution, than he ſent Monſieur D'Argenſon to ſhut up their Theater. Accordingly he went im⯑mediately before they could have the leaſt in⯑telligence of the Storm that threatned them, and call'd a great many Commiſſaries to attend him; not that he fear'd any Rebellion; but in regard the King commanded him to go about it with the greateſt ſolemnity: For the Scandal they had given being publick, the King would have their Puniſhment to be the ſame. Beſides, he com⯑manded to ſeal up all their Seats. He knew they had kept their Manuſcripts in them, and therefore would make ſure of all they had given Advertiſements of. They were extreamly ſur⯑priſed at this manner of Uſage, and the more, in that they had never dream'd of it. They went all in a Body to Verſailles, to proſtitute them⯑ſelves at His Majeſty's Feet; they repreſented to him, how they were call'd, before they came to France, which was matter of fact; for Car⯑dinal Mazarin, who himſelf was the greateſt Comedian in the Univerſe, and, perhaps, was afraid to forget a part he had Acted all his days, deſir'd from time to time, to ſee ſome new Scenes to put him in mind of his Trade. Upon this ſcore they alledg'd, That having left their Coun⯑try upon that invitation, it was an injuſtice done to them at that time, to turn 'em out of the Na⯑tion. But the King foreſeeing what they aim'd at, prevented them, ſaying, he doubted not but it was to pleaſe Cardinal Mazarin they under⯑took that Journey; and if they pleas'd to own [123] the truth, they had no reaſon to repent of their Trouble: They came into France a Foot, and were in a condition to go out of it in a Coach. This Reply gave them to underſtand, that His Majeſty was Diſpleas'd; therefore they thought to make their Application to ſome good Patron, to appeaſe him; but whether it was, that every one was more ready to abandon them, than pro⯑tect them, becauſe they had ſpared no body up⯑on their Theater; or that the Courtiers were ſen⯑ſible the King had no inclination to ſhew them any favour; not one perſon was found to plead for them: They were therefore oblig'd to look out for ſome other Trade for their future ſubſiſtence, and their Theater continues ſhut up till this day.

In the mean time the King's Army in Flanders, laid Seige to Ath, a place His Majeſty had given up to the Spaniards, by the Treaty of Nimiguen. The Count de Rheux commanded within the Town with a good Garriſon, amongſt whom were a great many French Deſerters, who looking up⯑on themſelves loſt if they came to be known, deſir'd to have the charge of the principal attacks. In all appearance they would chooſe rather to be cut to pieces than to ſurrender. But the Count of Rheux conſidering they might alſo deliver up the Poſt, in expectation of a Pardon, was ſo far from truſting or uniting them in one Body, as they deſir'd, that he diſperſed them amongſt the different Regiments to avoid the pre⯑ſent Conſequences he fear'd. There were three Marſhals of France in that Army, namely, the Marſhal of Vlileroy, the Marſhal of Boufflers, and the Marſhal of Catinat; but this laſt being beyond diſpute, the greateſt of the three, it was to him the King gave the Direction of the Siege. Villeroy and Boufflers made head againſt the Ene⯑mies Army, which was jointly commanded by King William and the Duke of Bavaria. But [124] if theſe two Princes made any motion, it was not to run any riſque; for they were ſenſible all their attempts would prove in vain. The Trea⯑ty of Reſwick was going on a pace, and knowing very well that the King would be oblig'd to give up that Place by the Peace, they did not think it convenient to Sacrifice one Man for its relief. If they had no mind to venture a Battle, they might eaſily lay Siege to Dinant, while Marſhal de Catinat was buſied at Ath. But then Bruſſels that was Bumbarded the Year before, was left expos'd for Villeroy and Boufflers to Beſiege; ſo that they could not conveniently quit their Poſt. Beſides, they knew that Ath was one of the places the Plenipotentaries of France offer'd to give up to the Allies. It had been therefore very needleſs for them to throw away the lives of Men upon that deſign, ſince they were ſure of ha⯑ving it without ſtroak of Sword.

Theſe reaſons oblig'd them to keep their Sta⯑tions; or if they mov'd at any time, it was only to find a Camp where their Troops could be ſupplied more conveniently with all neceſſaries. By that means Marſhal de Catinat found little difficulty in his Enterprize. The Count de Reux, for his part, was prepoſſeſs'd as well as King William and the Duke of Bavaria with a deſign of husbanding his Men, it being his Intereſt as well as the King's. Inſomuch that there was hardly any ſhooting from the Town; nor was there ever a Siege where the Beſieged made leſs noiſe. The French were extreamly aſtoniſh'd at it; and the Governor having ſurrendred, ſaid in a merry mode, to the Hoſtages, who were ſent to make the Capitulation, that it muſt be own⯑ed the French are very bad Husbands, conſidering how poor they were ſaid to be, for that they had laviſhed many thouſand weight of Powder be⯑fore that Place, and yet he was ready to hold, [125] if they pleas'd, five hundred Piſtoles to a Pen⯑ny, that in leſs than four Months time the Spaniards would enter the place, without being at the expence of one grain of Powder. Theſe Hoſtages were not ignorant of his meaning, and could hardly avoid condemning their own Folly. They own'd they were very much to blame, to throw away ſo many Lives upon a place with⯑out the leaſt expectation of any Advantage. Not that they had loſt any Perſon of Conſequence, nor, indeed, ſo many Common Soldiers as was at firſt alledg'd; but what they ſpoke was with regard to the inſignificancy of that Conqueſt; for as few as they were, it was ſtill a greater loſs than neceſſary, ſince their Blood ought to have been valued.

The Duke of Vendome, for his part, Beſieged Barcelona, both by Sea and Land; tho' he had acquainted His Majeſty, that he was in no Cir⯑cumſtances to do it, yet being commanded by a ſupreme Order, he was oblig'd to undertake it a⯑gainſt his Inclination. It was never known that any place was inveſted; after ſuch a manner; for he had not Troops enough to make the Cir⯑cumvallation. So that the Beſieged had always opportunity to keep a Communication with the Vice Roy of Catalonia, who took the Field in or⯑der to relieve them. The Duke of Vendome; to ſupply his want of Men, took out of the King's Ships that were before the Town, all who were able to carry Arms. This added ſomewhat to his Force, but not ſufficiently to compleat his Circumvallation: So that all the World believ'd he had engag'd in an Enterprize, which would cerrainly coſt him his Honour. In effect, beſides that the Beſieged could depart and enter the Town at liberty, they were ſo numerous, that one would have thought it was rather an Army than a Ga [...]riſon. They had eleven Thouſand Men [126] in the place; and the Queen of Spain being in hopes of preſerving it for her Nephew, recom⯑mended it in particulor to the Prince of Armſtadt, who, next to the Governor, had the principal Command. He promis'd Her Majeſty confident⯑ly to behave himſelf ſo, as ſhe ſhould have no rea⯑ſon to be diſſatisfied; and to make good his Promiſe, there paſs'd very few days withou [...] making ſome Sallies, which extreamly retarded the advancing of the Works. They diſputed every Inch of Ground with 'em; and the World was ready to believe, That as the Arms of France had gain'd ſome Reputation at the taking of Ath, their Glory was like to be obſcur'd by a far different Event before this place; and for an additional misfortune, the News from Poland gave them reaſon to ſuſpect that the Abbot of Polignac had acted too precipitantly in declaring the Prince of Conti King; for all the advices parti⯑cular Perſons receiv'd from that Country, were ſo unfavourable, that now they deſpair'd of ſuc⯑ceſs.

However, their News from all hands made no mention of the Duke of Saxony, and the Em⯑peror conceal'd his Deſign as to that Affair, ſo cloſely, that it was impoſſible to penetrate into it. It was generally believ'd, That Prince James was the only Rival the Prince of Conti had to fear; and this was the common Opinion in Po⯑ [...]and; for not one dream'd of the Duke of Sax⯑ony but ſuch as were in the Plot. Neverthe⯑leſs Prince James was univerſally hated by great and ſmall, in regard of the King his Father, who, ever ſince he had mounted the Throne, behaved himſelf towards his Subjects, rather as a particular intereſſed Perſon, than as a true Sovereign; for he had made open Sale of all the Favours with which the Kings his Predeceſſors had always us'd to gratifie their Subjects: So that tho' theſe People [127] were for many Ages, accuſtom'd to chooſe no-King in a ſtrange Family, when their own Roy⯑al Family afforded one; yet they had forgotten that Cuſtom ſo far in regard of him, that they would rather have ſeen the meaneſt of them⯑ſelves upon the Throne, than have choſen any of his Iſſue. They were extreamly afraid that they, following his Example when advanced to the Royal Dignity, would ſqueeze their Subjects to the very Marrow, as he had always done.

This general Averſion rais'd the hopes of the Abbot of Polignac, tho' he ſaw that a great many of the Palatines would not declare for the Prince. This he attributed to their Avarice, and thought it was only out of a deſign of obliging him to give more Money. They were glad to find him of that Opinion; for while he con⯑tinued ignorant of their Conduct, their Affair was like to have the better ſucceſs. In fine, This, and the Affair of Barcelona, were the two things that were moſt in view at France, when the Duke of Vendome wrote to His Majeſty, if he did not ſend him ſome Succours, he had reaſon to fear, that his Honour would certainly ſuf⯑fer in the Enterprize in which he was engag⯑ed. He gave the King a particular account of what had paſs'd before the Place, that His Ma⯑jeſty might be the more ſenſible of his ſtraits: So that the King having no more Reaſon to doubt of his Neceſſity, caus'd all the Troops he could draw out of Languedoc and Provence to march th [...]her. This freſh Re-inforcement wrought won⯑ [...], tho' even then, they nere not in a Con⯑ [...] to draw the Line of Circumvallation. The [...] loſt no time to attack the Outworks which [...] batter'd for a long time with a great many [...] The Soldiers behav'd themſelves with an [...] Bravery; and having made theſelves Ma⯑ſters [128] of the Covert Way, they afterwards attack'd the Baſtion, which was taken and re-taken twice. A Colonel of the Iriſh, nam'd Dillon, who Commanded one of theſe attacks, had paſs'd his time there very indifferently, if he had not been well belov'd by the Regiment. One of his Sol⯑diers who had deſerted into the Town, came within four paces of him, and having diſtin⯑guiſhed him from the others, Dillon, ſaid he, Mind that it's in my power to Kill thee; but I won't; for thou never haſt done me any harm: However, becauſe thou haſt by thee an Officer who is a common Hang-man of the Soldiers, I'll at leaſt hinder him from doing any more miſchief. This ſaid, he Shot him through the Belly dead upon the Spot. This Baſtion having been thus diſput⯑ed by both Parties, it fell, at laſt, into the hands of the Duke of Vendome, who rais'd a Battery upon it; from which he thundred in ſuch a man⯑ner into the Town, that he judg'd, in all ap⯑pearance, the Enemies would be oblig'd to ſur⯑render it in a ſhort time. He acquainted the King with theſe News, and wrote to him, That he hoped in five or ſix days to ſend Chameraut to His Majeſty, with an account of the Place's being ſurrendred. Every one was glad to hear this News, with which His Majeſty was over⯑joy'd. This Expreſs was very acceptable; and while they were impatient for the arrival of the other, who was to compleat His Majeſty's ſatiſ⯑faction, they admir'd mightily that good Fortune, that made him Maſter of a Place where there was not only a numerous Garriſon, but where it was alſo impoſſible for his own Army to ſhut up all the Paſſages. However, from day to day they waited Chameraut's arrival; and expected him with the firſt Poſt. At laſt there arriv'd one, who they believ'd, came from that Country, becauſe his [...]haiſe was extreamly Dirty. But no Dirt comes [1229] thence; for it is always dry there, in regard, it [...] ſeldom, or never Rains in that Country; but the Roads leading from thence being very deep, and it having Rain'd ſo much lately, there was a ſudden Report in Paris, that an Expreſs was arriv'd with the News of Barcelona's being taken. However, it was a pleaſant ſort of Courier that came in that Chaiſe, namely a luſty Sturgeon, which they had catch'd in Normandy, and ſent to the Dauphin; yet it was needleſs to tell the World ſo; none was like to believe it, being ſo prepoſſeſs'd with Chemeraut's arrival. This oblig⯑ed a Court Lord to Anſwer theſe Faithleſs Peo⯑ple who ſpoke to him after that manner, That it was true the Courier was arriv'd; but had rencountred with a Misfortune upon the Road, ſo that none could learn the particulars of the Towns being taken, from him; That having met with Aſſaſſins, the Poſtillion brought him dead in the Chaiſe, and that no doubt they had car⯑ried off his Packet; for having ſearch'd him, they had found none about him. This Diſ⯑courſe gave occaſion to another piece of News fully as true as the former: For the Report flying about very ſuddenly, all Paris believ'd the next day, that Chemeraut had been Kill'd. However, the Man was in excellent good health, and ſo far from having any deſire to die, that he took all poſſible care of his Perſon. He was as Fat and Groſs as four other Men, nor did he become ſo by feeding upon the Air, for he generally eat as much as other twelve Men.

After all, theſe News prov'd only falſe A⯑larms. Before the Town was taken, the Viceroy was reſolv'd to hazzard a Battle with the Duke, and, for that purpoſe, ſummon'd together all thoſe whom they call Miquelets in that Country; and having joyn'd them with his regular Troops, he [130] approach'd to the Duke of Vendome. It had been in vain for him to cut off their Proviſi⯑ons by Land, they being ſupply'd from the Sea. He had a more noble Deſign than to amuſe himſelf ſo meanly, he meant to decide the Af⯑fair all at once by a Battle; and to that pur⯑poſe having call'd a Council of War, he reſolv⯑ed, with his General Officers, to march the next day in the Evening, directly towards the Duke. He acquainted the Governor of Barcelona with his Reſolution, to the end, that at the ſame time, he might make a vigorous Sally upon the Enemies, and ſo attack them upon all ſides. In leſs than half an hour after, the Duke knew all the meaſures they had concerted againſt him, and being thus put upon his Guard, he march'd to meet him the Night before he was to exe⯑cute his Deſign. But the Viceroy had already divided his Army in two parts, in order to at⯑tack him with the greater advantage. This was made known to the Duke, who fell upon him with extraordinary fury; notwithſtanding the Laurels the Vice-Roy had promiſed to himſelf, he was ſtill in Bed when they came to acquaint him, that his Guards loſt ground; they made no re⯑ſiſtance at all, but betook them to their heels; and the Duke had certainly taken the Viceroy (as was expected) in Bed, if they had not awaked him of a ſudden. The Noiſe he heard about his Tent, having ſurpriz'd his Attendants as well as himſelf, made them believe that all was loſt: He excus'd his Valet de Chambre from his Duty at that time; and fearing he had no time to Dreſs, he made the beſt of his way Nak⯑ed as he was, thinking the greateſt thing he could do, was to ſave himſelf. The part of his Army that was with him, followed his Example, ex⯑cept a very few that put themſelves upon the Defence. The Duke made a great many Priſo⯑ners; [131] the Vice-Roy's ſmall Trunk fell alſo into his hands, with twenty Touſand Piſtols in Specie; and the Soldiers made a conſiderable Booty. All he wanted now to compleat his Victory, was, to know, that the other Detachment he had ſent againſt him, had met with the ſame Fate, and in a very little time he had that ſatisfaction. He knew that Monſ. D'Uſſon, whom he had en⯑truſted with that Expedition, had behav'd him⯑ſelf gallantly; and return'd to joyn him with all the Glory he could deſire.

The Governor of Barcelona was as much ſur⯑priſed as the Prince D'Armſtad, when he heard theſe Tydings. The Duke did not keep him long in the Dark, he ſent to acquaint him with it, that he might not continue any longer to make a fruitleſs Defence. But having ſtill eight Thouſand Men in Garriſon, he thought it Diſ⯑honourable to ſurrender to a Prince, who had not Soldiers enough to inveſt the Place intirely, and therefore kept out ſome few days longer, ra⯑ther to fulfil the Duty of a brave Commander, (of which he had been always emulous) than out of any hops of hindring the Town from be⯑ing taken.

In effect, in a very few days he caus'd a Parly to be beat, pretending to give up the Town on⯑ly, and retire with his Men into the Caſtle, which (being ſituated upon a Hill) he could hold out for a conſiderable time. But he delay'd ſo long in ſurrendring, that the Duke refus'd to accept any other Compoſition, than to have the Caſtle given up as well as the Town. The Go⯑vernor thought this condition very ſevere; but as thoſe who are Conquer'd, are commonly ob⯑lig'd to receive Laws from the Conqueror, ſo he was fain to accept of it. It was then that Chemeraut appear'd at Court of a different ſize from a Sturgeon. He brought theſe good Ty⯑dings [132] to the King, which pleas'd His Majeſty extreamly, who began to fear ſome reverſe of Fortune might have happen'd to the Duke of Vendome, ſince he had ſent his laſt Expreſs. Che⯑meraut had twenty Thouſand Livers for his pains, and a Commiſſion to act as Marſhal de Camp. His Majeſty being now freed from all his Fears, had more reaſon to be aſſur'd of the Peace; for beſides that, the Conference at Ryſwick went on apace, there were ſome other Conferences up⯑on the ſame Subject, betwixt the Marſhal of Boufflers and the Earl of Portland. After the loſs of Ath, King William, who knows how to make his advantage of every thing, judging this Earl, in every degree, as dexterous as the Marſhal, thought it convenient to employ him upon that Head; by this means he meant to remove more ſpeedily, a great many difficulties that could not be ſo eaſily terminated in a longer time. At Ryſwick, in regard of the Formalities, the Pleni⯑potentaries were oblig'd to obſerve meaſures with one another. Portland ſent a Trumpeter, as of his own accord, to the Marſhal, to ask a pri⯑vate interview with him, without making any mention of his Affair. The Marſhal thought it convenient, with the Advice of the other two French Marſhals, to conſent to it; and having agreed, that they ſhould meet by themſelves, and their Guards ſhould be of an equal number; The Earl propos'd to him to remove ſome Dif⯑ferences there, that would require too long time at Ryſwick. The Marſhal being unwilling to un⯑dertake any thing without expreſs Order from His Majeſty, ſent an Expreſs to know his Will. The great deſire the King had to make Peace, made him approve of what the Earl propos'd, without conſidering, perhaps, what advantage he might have over the Marſhal, in a ſuperiour Ge⯑nius; and the inconvenience of putting him upon [133] a level with a Marſhal of France, an Honour His Majeſty ought not to look upon as indiffer⯑ent. It's true, as the King of France had advanc⯑ed Boufflers from a Cadet of Picardy, to the Dignity of a Duke, Marſhal of France, Gover⯑nor of the moſt conſiderable Province of his Kingdom; And, in fine, of a Knight of his Or⯑der: So King William had rais'd the other from an ordinary Gentleman of Guelderland, to an Earl and Peer of England, and Knight of the Order of the Garter. But ſtill there was this difference, that the one Commanded an Army, and the other never did: Beſides, there was that alſo to be ſaid, That His moſt Chriſtian Ma⯑jeſty had never own'd King William, and ſo the French eſteem'd only the Earl as the Favourite of a Prince, whom they had never recogniz'd as King.

King William was glad that His moſt Chri⯑ſtian Majeſty over-look'd all thoſe conſiderations; not that he wanted to obtain a recogniſance from him, as well as from other Crown'd Heads; but becauſe he knew well that the Engliſh were as paſſionately deſirous of a Peace as the French. Their Commerce was then at a ſtand; and, which is very ſurpriſing, the moſt Chriſtian King had been a gainer by what was reckon'd his probable Ruin. After he had loſt I do not know how many Ships at la Hogue, and was ren⯑der'd uncapable of appearing at Sea; He had found his Account in the way of Piracy, and had taken ſo many Prizes both from the Eng⯑liſh and Dutch, that both of 'em were quite caſt down. 'Tis inconceivable what an infinite num⯑ber theſe Prizes are ſaid to amount to; and tho' I have heard an account of it from one of the greateſt Traders in England, who ought to know that Affair as well as any body, yet I ſhall be cautious of repeating it, for fear I ſhould be [134] charg'd with Credulity. In effect, the thing is ſo ſurprizing, that it aſtoniſhes one: But, after all, if we conſider that theſe two Nations ſub⯑ſiſt only by their Commerce, and that the Sea was continually cover'd with their Veſſels, ſo that the French had an opportunity of attacking 'em every minute with an advantage, eſpecial⯑ly when they were without Convoys; upon this conſideration, I ſay, we may eaſily conceive how they came to ſuſtain ſo great a loſs. But let it be as it will, K. William being ſenſible of the neceſſity of a Peace, in order to be free from ſuch Inconveniencies, order'd my Lord Portland to re⯑move all the difficulties that might oppoſe it.

In the mean time K. James had but a ſorry Game to play. Purſuant to the King's Promiſe of never making a Peace till he were reſtored, He had all along hop'd, that His Majeſty would effect his Reſtoration ſooner or later. And this his expectation was ſcrew'd higher by the King's open Declaration to all Europe, that he would make his Promiſe good. Beſides, that this un⯑happy Prince was turn'd out of his Dominions, only, becauſe he would not declare againſt the King. He had been frequently Sollicited to op⯑poſe the King's Intereſt before the Prince of O⯑range came into his Place; and had he done that, no Potentate whatſoever would ever have conſented to his being diſquieted. Nay, to ſpeak the Truth, 'twas a thing of too dangerous Con⯑ſequence for the Potentates themſelves; but that Prince having diſcover'd his firm Reſolution to ſtand by the ſecret Alliance he had made with the King, all other Princes combin'd againſt him, becauſe he would not joyn with them in reducing a Power that ſeem'd to threaten their Repoſe. This, the moſt Ch [...]iſtian King was very ſenſible of, and did not fail to acknow⯑ledge it. He did for him all that he could do, [135] and offer'd both him and his Qeen a Retreat and Entertainment. Tho' he was engag'd in a War with the greateſt part of Europe, yet he gave him fifty thouſand Louis d'Ors a Year. 'Tis true, this was but a ſmall allowance for the King of England, upon the compariſon with what he had when he poſſeſs'd his Dominions; but 'twas a great deal for a Prince to give, that was at the ſame time oblig'd to maintain four or five hun⯑dred thouſand Men, to make head againſt the numerous Enemies that his Grandeur had raiſ⯑ed againſt him; and upon that ſcore, doubtleſs K. James was oblig'd to him. But after all, 'twas not long of the King that he did not make good his Promiſe. The unfortunate Prince had been always guilty of the ſame Fault, that his Brother committed when he occaſion'd the loſs of the Battle of Dunbar. He careſs'd the Scots in ſuch a manner, that he himſelf oppos'd his own Reſtauration. His chief Miniſter was a Scotch⯑man, and there having always been a great jea⯑louſie between the Engliſh and Scots, the pre⯑ference he gave to the latter at his Court, ali⯑enated the Hearts of the former. This was the occaſion, that a great many Enterprizes form'd on his behalf, never took; and foraſmuch as that Prince had much more Devotion than Brains, as the French could not but lament his Fate, ſo they could not avoid ſaying, That tho' he had ſunk himſelf by his bad Conduct, yet 'twas not reaſonable they ſhould ſuffer themſelves to be ſuck'd in along with him. In fine, the King being much more oblig'd to his own King⯑dom than to any other, could not avoid the gi⯑ving him to know, That many things he did were directly oppoſite to his Intereſt. Nay, all his true Friends had told him the ſame thing upon ſeveral occaſions, inſomuch, that to ſatisfie the one and the other, he pretended to diſgrace My Lord [136] Melfort, Brother to the Chancellor of Scotland. This Miniſter was hated, not only at his Ma⯑ſter's Court, but even by the French, who had attended K. James in Ireland. Theſe alledg'd, That if it had not been for him, Things had. gone otherwiſe in that Country than they did Nay, ſome of 'em did not ſtand to charge him openly with keeping a Correſpondence with the Enemies; affirming, that if it had not been ſo, he had never made ſuch oppoſition as he did, againſt all that Mr. Roſes, the moſt Chriſtian King's Lieutenant General, proffer'd to attempt in that Country. And, in earneſt, if the digreſſion were excuſable, I could eaſily make it out, that that Miniſter wanted either Conduct or Fidelity. God forbid, that I ſhould affirm with others, that he entertain'd a Coreſpondence with K. William. But to over-look all theſe things, and return to my Subject, all theſe Circumſtances oblig'd His moſt Chriſtian Majeſty to joyn with K. William in removing the Obſtacles that might retard the Peace. The firſt Conference between Marſhal Bouf⯑flers and my Lord Portland, was ſeconded quickly by ſeveral others. They adjuſted ſeveral things that the Plenipotentaries at Ryſwick would not have agreed upon in a Years time. However, at one of their Interviews, where ſeveral Of⯑ficers were preſent on both ſides, My Lord Port⯑land hearing a diſcharge of Cannon and Muſquets in the French Army, ask'd the Marſhal what the meaning of it was: The Marſhal made anſwer, That 'twas occaſion'd by the News the King had ſent of the Prince of Conti's Election to the Crown of Poland. This was matter of Fact; for Abbot P [...]ignac had diſpatch'd a Courier to the Court to acquaint the King, that the Prince was proclaim'd King of Poland by the Cardinal Primate and ſome Palatines that ſided with him. But this Intelligence included another part, name⯑ly, [137] That the Elector of Saxony was likewiſe pro⯑claim'd King, by the Biſhop of Cujavia, and all the Partiſans of the Houſe of Auſtria. This ought, at leaſt probably, to have prevented our making ſo much haſte; and upon that ſcore, my Lord Portland fell a Laughing; and told the Marſhal, That, indeed, this ſpoke the French to be quicker than all other Nations; That they had formerly ſhewn the ſame diſpoſition upon many Occaſions; and that in this Affair, they ſtill continu'd to have the ſtart of their Allies; but in the mean time, the Allies having time enough to teſtifie their Joy, upon the advantages that accru'd to 'em, had re⯑ſolv'd to ſtay till Night, or next Morning, before they gave a ſolemn proof of the Joy they were fill'd with, upon the News, That the Duke of Saxony, and not the Prince of Conty, had mounted that Throne.

The Marſhal thought he Banter'd him, in propoſing a Proteſtant for a Dignity, that could not be enjoy'd but by a Roman-Catholick. Had my Lord made mention of Prince James, it had made another ſort of impreſſion upon him. In fine, my Lord Portland having a mind that he ſhould not flatter himſelf any longer, upon the imaginary Succeſs of the French Party, gave him a naked account of the Matter. Upon this diſ⯑covery, the Army that was Celebrating the Glory of the Prince of Conty, with a full admiration of his Valou [...], were then mightily ſurpriz'd. How⯑ever, they were unwilling to believe it; for that Nation can never be perſwaded of any thing that tends to their diſadvantage; whether it be, That this is a common Humour among other Nations, or, That they in particular are preſumptuous up⯑on their own Merit. But what inflam'd their ſuſpicion, the Court, who knew the bottom of Things, more than any body elſe, was very ſilent upon the Matter, after the Solemnity was over. [138] Their deſign in the Solemnity, was only to per⯑ſwade the People, That their Intereſt went well in Poland; and ſo to comfort 'em, in ſome mea⯑ſure, for the loſs of the Money they had ſent thither. The People were the more willing to ſhew their Congratulation, That all of 'em had not only a Reſpect, but a Love for the Prince of Conty; nay, they even ador'd him; ſo true it is, That a good Reputation is able to produce mar⯑vellous Effects in the Minds of the People.

I cannot tell what the Prince's own Thoughts were, or whether he believ'd the Report, of the reality of his Election. He made no diſcovery of his Mind. Thoſe who were accuſtom'd to weigh Things before they c [...]dit 'em, took the li⯑berty to ſpeak [...] Mind. Some were of opinion, That ſuppoſi [...] [...] caſe had been as favourable, as it was repreſented, yet they could not make it bear, withou [...] Blows. They were likewiſe ſenſi⯑ble, That the War they were oblig'd to undertake upon that account, would be very diſadvantage⯑ous to 'em. They knew very well, that the Duke of Saxony was a powerful Prince, and that his Confederate Princes had their Troops conveniently Poſted; that they could eaſily conduct 'em to Po⯑land, without any danger; whereas, the Troops to be ſent from France, would be oblig'd to im⯑bark in ſome Sea-Port of the French [...]landers, and land in the Neighbourhood of certain Potentates, whoſe Affection to the Prince of Conty, the King had ſome reaſon to doubt.

The Prince of Conty, perceiving he would be oblig'd to unſheath his Sword, if he meant to make good his Election, durſt not diſplay the Affliction he was under, upon the view of leaving a Miſtreſs, that he lov'd as paſſionately as a Crown. His only aim, was to pleaſe the King, who preſs'd him to accept of that Crown, as well for his own Intereſt, as out of the Love he bore [139] him. However, ſuch a degree of indifference was very odd, in a Prince of his Courage, and a Nephew of the Prince of Conde. One would have thought, that he would have exerted his utmoſt efforts, to mount the Throne, ſince his Uncle, upon a deſign of that nature, had not only rais'd a Civil War in his Country, but put himſelf at the Head of the Capital Enemies of his King and Country. Some days paſs'd without any noiſe, only the King ſaluted the Prince and Princeſs, as King and Queen of Poland. In like manner, all the Grandees pay'd 'em the Reſpect ſuitable to that Dignity; and in order to give a colour for his not departing to receive the Crown, 'twas gi⯑ven out, That Ambaſſadors were expected from Poland, to fetch him. The more credulous ſort of People ſatisfy'd themſelves with this News; but the more ſenſible part of Mankind, were more diſtruſtful than ever, of the validity of the Election. They own'd, indeed, That to wait the Arrival of Ambaſſadors, was a Thing of more Glory, than to depart before their Arrival; but, at the ſame time, they alledg'd, (and that very juſtly) That 'twas not expedient, when a Crown is not diſputed, and that the Crown being pro⯑mis'd to him, he was ſo far from being ty'd to that [...], that he ought to ſet out with the utmoſt [...], and appear at the Head of his Party; le [...]t, for want of his Preſence, many ſhould be corrupted, and drawn over to his E⯑nemy

Fr [...]nce had not forgot, That the occaſion of the War they were then engag'd in, (which in a man⯑ner threaten'd their very Throne) was their un⯑ſeaſonable Difference with the Pope; and upon that view, were ſenſible, That tho' His Holineſs had not ſo much Intereſt in this Affair, as in the former; yet they ought not to neglect him. In order to ſecure his Favour, They repreſented, [140] with the utmoſt application, their ſuſpicion of the Elector of Saxony's Converſion. Indeed, that was a very nice Point; and all Men, tho' never ſo partial, were ſenſible, That his declaring for the Roman Religion, had more of Ambition in it, than Devotion. However, the Pope being un⯑willing that a Proteſtant Prince ſhould Sit upon that Throne, was ſo much againſt the Elector, that one would have thought he could never be for him. Beſides, the Cardinal-Primate ſent a Courier, to aſſure him, That the Intereſt of the Catholick Religion was entirely ruin'd, if he ſuf⯑fer'd the Elector to be prefer'd to the Prince of Conty. This Meſſage, he was prompted to, as well by his Intereſt, as by his Zeal for the Ro⯑man Religion; for the Biſhop of Cujavia had in⯑croach'd upon the Privileges of the Archbiſhop of Gneſne, which juſtly claims the ſole Right of Proclaiming the Elected King.

In the mean time, there happen'd a Quarrel between Husband and Wife, in one of the princi⯑pal Families retaining to the Court. 'Twas neither occaſion'd by Jealouſie, nor the diſproportion of Tempers, as ſuch Differences commonly are; but by a very odd Adventure, when the one approv'd of a Thing, that the other did not. We muſt know, that a Noble Venetian, not a Member of the Senate, but one of the Nobles of the Terra⯑firma, being Marry'd to a Lady that he lov'd very tenderly, had ſo much Complaiſance, as to ſa⯑tisfie her Curioſity, by carrying her to ſee France. But tho' the Beauty of France draws ſo many Strangers to viſit it, yet her deſign was only to have it ſaid, that ſhe reſembled the Queen of Sheba, in coming ſo far to ſee the Glory of Solo⯑mon. She had heard a thouſand great Things of the King and His Reign; and being fond of ſee⯑ing with her Eyes, whether the Reports were true, or enlarg'd beyond the due extent, ſhe came [141] on purpoſe along with her Husband to Verſailles; in order to make the diſcovery. Such an Adven⯑ture as this, was only wanting to compleat the Hiſtory of the King; and thoſe who are employ'd in Writing it, will take care not to forget it. However, the Husband and his Wife appearing of a ſudden at Court, Mr. Bontems, Governor of the Caſtle, had a mind to know who they were, purſuant to the King's Orders, injoyning him to take notice of all the unknown Faces that ap⯑pear'd there. Accordingly, he caus'd to ask 'em, Who they were? and what brought 'em there? He was the more particular in his Queſtions, in that he heard their Equipage was a true Bohemian E⯑quipage; and had ſerv'd to amuſe not only Men of Senſe, but even the very Children. When the Queſtion was ask'd 'em, they were ſurpriz'd, for that ſuch Conduct was inconſiſtent with the Li⯑berty that Reigns in their Country. But being inform'd, that all unknown Faces were treated the ſame way, the Noble Venetian would needs go in Perſon, to acquaint Mr. Bontems with the occaſion of their Voyage. Mr. Bontems was ſur⯑priz'd to hear of his Complaiſance, and having ſpoke of it to the King, was order'd to bring 'em both to ſee him Dine. To recompence the charge they were at, they were plac'd in the moſt con⯑venient Place, for having a full view of the King. I cannot tell what their Thoughts were, or whe⯑ther they ſaid what the Queen of Sheba ſaid of Solomon; but all the Courtiers being acquainted with their Errand, none of 'em us'd 'em ſo, as one not long ago was by John Bart, one of the famouſeſt Pyrates that the King had during the laſt War; if it be lawful to give that Title to a Man that obey'd the King's Orders. Pray God forbid, that in uſing that expreſſion, I ſhould mean to reflect upon the Methods us'd by that Prince, for diſturbing the Repoſe of his Enemies. [142] I am too ſenſible of the Reſpect we ought to have for Supream Powers, to indulge my ſelf in that liberty. And I am likewiſe ſenſible, That he hav⯑ing ſo many Enemies upon him, ſhew'd in that; as in all other things, the depth of his judg⯑ment.

To return to my ſubject, John Bart having the curioſity (as well as theſe Foreigners) to ſee the King Dine, there came a Perſon dignify'd with a Blue Ribbon, that finding he had a good Place, took it from him, without being over-aw'd by his Mein, which ſpeaks him more a ſimple Tar⯑pallion, than a Commander of a Squadron. John Bart had heard, that ſome Compliment was due to a Blue Ribbon; however, he took him by the Coat, upon which the Badges of his Knighthood were fix'd, and told him, with a loud Voice, Mr. Blue Ribbon, pray give me my Place; you ſee the King when you will; but for me who does not ſee him but at the four Feſtivals of the Year, 'tis but rea⯑ſonable that I ſhould not tamely ſuffer my ſelf to be robb'd of an advantage that I enjoy ſo ſeldom. The King hearing that, fell a Laughing; and told the Gentleman with the blue Ribbon, That Bart was in the right; and that 'twas His Pleaſure, that he ſhould give Bart his Place, and rather ſtand behind him, than affront him in that manner. Upon that, John Bart being better known on Board, than at Court, the Blue-Ribbon Spark turn'd about to view him; and apprehending his Mein to be much different from his Reputation, whiſper'd to a Duke that was juſt by him, That if the Noble Venetian, and his Lady, had receiv'd as little ſatisfaction from the ſight of the King, as he had from that of John Bart, they would be ſure to grudge their Money. But that could not be; for tho' the King is very much alter'd from what he was, yet he ſtill preſerves his good Mein; inſomuch, that 'tis ſtill viſible, that he has been a very graceful Man.

[143] In fine, they were far from meeting with what John Bart did; for every body knew they came too far, not to have the opportunity of ſeeing the King. But they had no ſooner receiv'd ſatisfaction in that point, than they return'd to Italy. 'Tis ſaid, they ſtaid only three days at Paris; and that, rather to reſt themſelves, than to ſee the Curioſities of the Place. This Scene being Acted in the Face of the whole Court, and being the common ſubject of Diſcourſe; the Perſon of Quality, I pointed to above, happening to Talk of it to his Lady, a Quarrel enſued, after this man⯑ner: The Lady told her Husband, That if ſhe were to wiſh for any thing in this World, it ſhould be this, That ſhe might have as Complaiſant a Husband, as that Venetian Lady; he having un⯑dertaken a Journey of almoſt 1000 Leagues, on purpoſe to pleaſe her; and by that means ſhewn the greateſt inſtances of a pliant Temper, that any Man can ever ſhew. Her Husband reply'd, That his Conduct did not ſpeak ſo much a flexi⯑ble Temper, as Folly; and that, for his part, if he had a Wife, that would deſire ſuch a thing of him, he would look on her as the greateſt and moſt extravagant Fool, not only in Paris, but e⯑ven in Bedlam. Each of 'em maintain'd their Sentiments with great warmth; and the Lady told him, That it ſeem'd he was not in the hu⯑mour to ſatisfie her, in caſe ſhe deſir'd to ſee the Emperor, or the King of Spain. The Gentleman made anſwer, That if ever that Maggot took her, he would not content himſelf with ſhutting her up in Bedlam, but would ſtifle her with his own Hands, as a Mad-woman. Perhaps he only ſaid ſo, to ſignifie the averſion he had for theſe two Princes, who were the King's Enemies: But the Lady putting a Literal meaning upon the reply, they came to high Words, and quarrel'd out⯑right,

[144] This was the Product of the Complaiſance that a Noble Venetian ſhew'd to his Lady: But in the mean while, there happen'd an Accident at Court, that was yet more ſurprizing, and that one Day, will perplex the Hiſtorians, tho' they are not very fond of ſounding the truth of it. There's a little Town in Provence, call'd Salon, that formerly gave Birth to Noſtradamus, a Man very well known at this Day, by his Centuries; ſome of which have come to paſs in ſo convincing a man⯑ner, that what was formerly obſcure, is now as clear as Sunſhine. Among theſe Articles, I rec⯑kon what relates to the Death of Charles I. King of England, and that of Mr. de Cinqumares, pro⯑vided ſtill, that theſe were not foiſted after-hand into his Works. But let that be as it will, this Town which produc'd a ſort of a Prophet in the preceding Age, has furniſh'd us with one in this; or at leaſt, ſuch a Character is given of a cer⯑tain Gentleman, that appear'd then at Court, of whom this is the Hiſtory. About that time, the pretended Ghoſt of that famous Aſtrologer above⯑mention'd, appear'd to a Man of this City. I know not whether it was by Night or by Day; but this I know, That the Apparition put the Man in a great fear; and above all things, ad⯑vis'd him, not to mention to any body, what he ſpoke to him; nay, he did not except his Wife; and the Man made a ſign with his Head, import⯑ing, that he would obey him; for he was at that time Speechleſs, and fear had ſo much influence upon him, that he could not open his Mouth. Thereupon the Apparition advis'd him to go to the Intendant of Provence, and give him to know from him, That he ſhould give him Letters, to introduce him to the King: It repreſented further, That it would not tell him preſently what he was to ſay before the King, but that he would appear again to him, when he ſhould come near [145] to Verſailles, and there teach him his Leſ⯑ſon.

Upon that, the Apparition diſappear'd, and left him for Dead, ſo much was the Man fright⯑ned by his Wonders, as well as by his diſmal Aſ⯑pect. After ſome time, the Man came to him⯑ſelf; but ſo, as that 'twas plain he had ſome⯑thing extraordinary in his Head. His Wife ask'd him what it was; but the Prohibition, laid upon him by the Apparition, kept him from diſcover⯑ing any thing for ſome time. At laſt, his Wife having us'd a thouſand Wheedles, to make him reveal his Mind; he open'd his Mouth I know not how often, in order to recount the Adventure, and ſhut it as often again; by reaſon that the Apparition had back'd the Prohibition with ſuch Threats, as ſcar'd him. He told his Wife, That he ſhould dye, if ever he broke Silence upon the Matter; and the fear that this ſhould come to paſs, ſtiffed his Words, when he was moſt temp⯑ted to ſpeak.

His Wife's Curioſity was inflam'd by his re⯑ſerv'dneſs; ſhe preſs'd him more than ever to re⯑veal the Secret. The Husband reply'd, That his Life depended upon it, and that he could not do it. But that Word ſcrew'd up her Curioſity to the laſt degree. In fine, ſhe would not let him be eaſie, till he made the diſcovery; and the poor Man being fooliſhly fond of her, had no ſooner acquainted her with the Apparition, and the diſcourſe that paſs'd, than he fell down quite Dead upon the ſpot. Upon this, the Woman was as much aſtoniſh'd as he was, when the Ghoſt appear'd to him. But after ſecond Thoughts, ſhe conſtru'd the diſcourſes he utter'd before his Death, to be only the effect of a Brain diſturb'd by a Mortal Sickneſs, and told nothing of the Matter; or if ſhe did, 'twas with ſuch an Air, [146] as if ſhe had taken his Diſcovery, for the Ravings of a diſtemper [...]d Brain.

This Accident made no great Noiſe in Salon, or the adjacent places; which certainly it would, if it had been fully known: Nay, the People there, did dot ſo much as mind it; for every one, as well as his W [...]e, believ'd that the Man's Brai [...]s were [...]ut of order, when he talk'd of his Viſion. But at the ſ [...]me time, the Viſion appear'd to another Inhabitent of the ſame City, and made him the ſame Compliment; and he was as fooliſh as the other; f [...]r he ſpoke of it that ſame day to the Curate, and his indiſcretion was follow'd by the ſame [...]ate; for he di [...]d upon the ſpot. The noiſe of his Death, and the manner of it, being ſpread abroad, the People recall'd to their me⯑mory, what was ſaid upon the Death of the o⯑ther. This was the only ſubject of diſcourſe all [...]ver Salon, and for 20 Leagues round it; nay, every body took the liberty to Comment upon it. But in the mean time, the Viſion appear'd to a Blackſmith, whoſe Houſe was not far from thoſe of the two Men, I ſpoke of but now. 'Tis poſſible, he was as much afraid, as the other two; but their example being recent, and of too great conſequence, to ſuffer him to be guilty of the ſame fault; he was very attentive to the Words utter'd by the Ghoſt; and immediately upon its diſappearance, went to the Intendant, purſuant to its orders. That Magiſtrate gave Au⯑dience every day, to all that had any buſineſs with him; ſo that, the Smith had no occaſion for any one to introduce him: But his Story be⯑ing ſuch as could not well be told publickly, he beg'd of him, that he would retire with him to his Cloſet, becauſe he had an Affair of extream Conſequence to imp [...]rt. The Intendant, ſeeing that the Man made [...]ut a ſorry appearance, could not conjecture, wh [...] this important Affair might [147] be. But being oblig'd to hear every one, and to neglect nothing relating to his Poſt, he deſir'd him to ſtay a little, till he had given Audience to the reſt; after which, he would hear him at his leiſure. Accordingly, after the general Au⯑dience was over, he and the Smith retir'd to his Cloſet.

Then the Blackſmith acquainted him, That the Af⯑fair he was about to open, would at firſt view ſeem to be a pure Whim; and that he knew he would be diſmiſs'd for a Fool; that to prevent ſuch ap⯑prehenſions, he told him ſo much before-hand; and in fourteen Days time, he would ſend to ſee for him, being then ſenſible of his error, in treat⯑ing him as a Man troubled with Maggots. In fine, he ſet forth the occaſion of his coming thi⯑ther, namely, That a Viſion having appear'd a Month ago to two different Perſons, (that certain⯑ly he had heard of, upon the account of the fatal Conſequences) had likewiſe appear'd to him, very lately; That it had order'd him to come to the Intendant, to deſire he might be ſent to the King; That it had promis'd to appear again to him, at Verſailles, or near to it, in order to inſtruct him in what he was to ſay to His Majeſty; That ac⯑cordingly, he came to diſcharge his Commiſſion faithfully; and upon that ſcore, was not afraid of meeting with the ſame Fate, that befel the other two.

The Intendant had heard ſomething of this odd Adventure; but had always taken it for a fabu⯑lous Fiction; and, purſuant to that Thought, check'd the Man in a ſtrange manner. He ask'd him, If that was his way to abuſe an In⯑tendant's Time, every minute of which he knew to be precious; and at the ſame time, gave him to know, that he deſerv'd nothing but a Goal. The Man reply'd, That his Threats made no impreſſion upon him, for that the Viſion had [148] ſufficiently prepar'd him; That he would return home, ſince the Intendant order'd him ſo to do; and that he would only have the trouble of re⯑turning, when the Intendant ſhould ſend for him.

Tho' the Intendant us'd him at this rate, yet he had a deep impreſſion of what he ſaid. His talk⯑ing ſo ſenſibly, and ſo unlike a diſtemper'd Head, was ſufficient to ſuggeſt ſome Reflection to the Intendant; eſpecially, if we joyn to this the for⯑mer reports of that Apparition. In effect, the Marſhal was no ſooner gone, but the Intendant wrote to the Lieutenant General of Salon, pray⯑ing him to acquaint him, Whether the reports of that Apparition were true, or falſe? But to pre⯑vent the communication of retractible Things, he order'd him to draw up a formal Information, in caſe he found any credit due to the reports that were ſpread abroad. At the ſame time, he de⯑ſir'd a Character of the Man that had been with him; for he had taken down his Name at firſt, and wanted to know, whether he was always reckon'd a Man of Senſe, ſuch as he appear'd to be. He likewiſe order'd him, to enquire, whe⯑ther there ever were any of his Family, either by the Father or Mother-ſide, that were Rattle brain'd. For if any ſuch had been found out by chance, he had not fail'd to infer from thence, that he imi⯑tated their example, and by conſequence, that no ſtreſs was to be laid upon what he ſaid.

The Lieutenant obey'd this Letter punctually. He drew up an Information, and ſent it to the Intendant; by which he ſaw, that all the reports of the Apparition, and its conſequences, were true; and that the Marſhal was always reputed a Man of good Senſe. The Lieutenant likewiſe g [...]ve an account of his Family; which contain'd [...] thing that could hinder the Intendant to [...] the Court with the Affair. Accordingly, [149] he Wrote of it to the Marquis of Barbeſieux, Se⯑cretary of State; but he did it in ſuch a way, as ſignified, that he only look'd upon the Man as a Mad-man. For, he did not only ſet forth his own incredulity upon the Matter, but the Mea⯑ſures he had taken to prevent his being impos'd upon; and ſent him the Information he had caus'd to be taken at Salon. By this he mean'd, and juſtly indeed, to juſtifie, That if there was any impoſi⯑tion in the Matter, he was not the firſt Author of it. His plea was, That the Magiſtrate of Salon, being upon the place, ought to know the Matter of Fact beſt; upon which, he concluded, That if he was deceiv'd, the fault ought not to lie up⯑on him. He thought himſelf oblig'd, in a par⯑ticular manner, to ſeaſon his Letter with a great many Circumſtances, to clear himſelf from too much Credulity in that Miniſter's Opinion; for that the Marquis being very Young, muſt be leſs Credulous than other People. He knew, that at ſuch an Age as he was of, ſuch things are hardly credited; and that even the Apparition of Samuel would meet with no Faith from them, if it were not ſpoke of in the Books that cannot be call'd in queſtion, without Sacrilege. But the Marquis was more Credulous than one would have thought. He Writ him an Anſwer, probably, after ſpeaking of it to the King; importing, That he might ſend him the Man, but ſo, as not to give any ground for charging either the one or the other with any Weakneſs.

The Intendant receiving this Order, injoyn'd the Lieutenant-General of Salon to ſend him the Man, upon the pretence, of anſwering to the In⯑formation he had made, purſuant to his Order. Accordingly, the Blackſmith waited upon him, and told him at firſt meeting, That he had ſaid be⯑fore, 'twould not be long before he ſent for him again. The Intendant made anſwer, That he did [150] not ſend for him upon the deſign he thought of, but to reprimand him for meaning to impoſe up⯑on him. By this Repreſentation, he thought to turn the Tables upon him, in order to ſatisfie the Marquis's caution. But the Man knowing that he was guilty of nothing that could merit a reprimand, the Conference ended in this, That the Intendant gave him to know, that if he were as much perſwaded of the Fact as he would have him believe he would be ſo far from hindring him to go to V [...]ſailles, that he would give him Introductory-Letters to the Marquis of Barbeſieux, and to facilitate his Journey, would give him a place in the firſt Recruit-Convoy that was to go that way. The Man did not care which way he went, ſo he could but ſatisfie the deſire of the Viſion; and accordingly, agreed to what was pro⯑pos'd. There was a Company of Recruits juſt ready to be gone, which an Officer of the Town of [...] had rais'd, and which were to paſs near Paris. The Intendant recommended the Blackſmith to him, and gave him ſome Mony to give him when he par [...]d from him. That Officer carry'd him to [...]erte under J [...]narre, after having Wrote to the Intendant, in obedience to his Command, That he could [...] nothing in the Man, but what bec [...]me a Wi [...]e man: For the Intendant had deſir'd him to obſerve him narrowly upon the Road, to the end, that if he diſcover'd any turn of Thought in him, he might acquaint the Mar⯑quis o [...] Barbeſieux with it.

The Blackſmith being thus arriv'd at [...]ert [...] took leave o [...] the Officer, and repair [...]d to Ver⯑ſailles, where he did not knew what to [...]ay, be⯑cauſe the Ghoſt had not yet appear [...]d to him. But the very Night that he arriv'd, while he was in great perplexity, he heard (as he ſays) one un⯑draw his Curtain, while he was full awake. Up⯑on that, the Ghoſt appear'd to him, bid him fea [...] [151] nothing, and gave him to know, That both the Secretary of State, and the King, would give him a Well-come Reception, notwithſtanding the dif⯑ficulties he met with at firſt. Being thus inſtru⯑cted in what he was to ſay, both to the Marquis, and the King; he was at the ſame time, ſtrictly charg'd, never to divulge what was then told him, to any body, excepting His Majeſty. The Ghoſt acquainted him, That the Marquis of Barbeſieux, would endeavour, by all means, to pump the Se⯑cret out of him; but that he was to conceal it from him, as well as from every body elſe; for if he fail'd in that piece of Obedience, he ſhould infallibly meet with the ſame Fate as befel the two Men in his Town.

The Ghoſt diſappear'd immediately; and the Blackſmith having no great inclination to Sleep longer, went in the morning to wait upon the Marquis of Barbeſieux, and deliver'd him the In⯑tendant's Letter. The Marquis immediately call'd him to his Cloſet, where they both continu'd for above an hour. The report of the Blackſmith's enſuing Arrival, had been ſpread all over the Court before he came. For upon his depar⯑ture from Provence, Letters were ſent to Town; and he was every where ſtil'd, The Prophet, for⯑aſmuch as no body doubted, but that he was go⯑ing to Propheſie ſomething to the King, and had undertook that Journey only for that end. In the mean time, every body was mightily deſirous to know what the Matter was; and there being al⯑ways ſome, that pretend to refine upon Things beyond their Neighbours, a Report was ſpread a⯑broad, That he had been put upon at the ſame rate as James Clement in former Times, tho' not in order to commit ſuch a deteſtable Action as he did, but to acquaint His Majeſty under ſo fair a covert, a great many things, that could not other⯑wiſe reach his Ears. I do not ſpeak this, as if I [152] believ'd it; for I know very well, that theſe are only pleaſant Whims, familiar to thoſe, who, for want of buſineſs, employ their whole time in Com⯑menting upon whatever happens.

However, according to the Ghoſt's Prediction, the Marquis of Barbeſieux endeavour'd to work the Secret out of the Blackſmith: But the Smith reply'd, That all his efforts upon that ſcore would be fruitleſs, in regard he had a Leſſon preſcrib'd to him, which he was oblig'd to obſerve, under the pain of being puniſh'd upon the ſpot; but to ſhew that his advances were not Chimerical, he might give His Majeſty to know, That the laſt time he Hunted at Fontainbleau, he was ſud⯑denly ſurpriz'd with an Apparition, which put him into a great aſtoniſhment; That the ſame Ghoſt which appear'd to him, had at that time appear'd to His Majeſty, and that his Horſe had ſeen it, and ſtarted aſide, as if he would have thrown him; That the Apparition did not con⯑tinue above a moment, which occaſion'd His Ma⯑jeſty's apprehenſion, of being miſtaken, and his ſpeaking of it to no body; and that all this hapned to His Majeſty only, in order to procure him ac⯑ceſs to the King, by ſhewing, That he knew what none elſe in his Dominions was acquainted with. Upon theſe reaſons, he hop'd His Majeſty would make no difficulty in giving him Audi⯑ence.

The Marquis of Barbeſieux was much ſurpriz'd at the hearing of ſuch a Circumſtance as that, which would quickly diſcover, whether there was any thing Supernatural in this Man's Pre⯑tenſions, or whether he was an Impoſtor. And, in earneſt, if the King confirm'd the Matter of Fact, undoubtedly he muſt have known ſomething beyond a Natural Capacity. The Marquis ac⯑quainted the King with his Arrival, and with the Story he told; and all he had ſaid, being, as 'tis [153] alledg'd, found true, the King granted him a pri⯑vate Audience. What paſs'd in this Interview, no-body can tell, becauſe 'twas kept as a profound Secret. All we know, is, That the pretended Prophet having ſtay'd ſome days at Court, while few knew that he had the honour to ſpeak with the King; His Majeſty agreed, that he ſhould come and take leave of him publickly, when he took Coach to go a Hunting. The Duke of Duas, Captain of the Life-Guard, no ſooner ſaw him, but he told the King, That if he had not order'd him to admit ſuch a Fellow to approach His Per⯑ſon, he had been far from doing it, becauſe he was certainly a Fool, or elſe His Majeſty was much put upon. A great many others about Court were of his Mind; for people are not eaſi⯑ly convinc'd of ſuch things as theſe. But the King took his part, and gave the Captain to know, that he was out in his Judgment, and that he had more Senſe than he thought for.

This Expreſſion was evidence, that he had told the King ſome very odd Things; for otherwiſe, the King would never have given himſelf the trouble to make ſuch Declaration of his Thoughts. It awak'd the Curioſity of all Mankind; and e⯑very-body would have given any thing to know the reſult of his Conference with His Majeſty, and Barbeſieux. The Marquis's Friends pump'd him upon the matter; but he told 'em frankly, that 'twas in vain, in regard there was ſomething in the matter that challeng'd his Secrecy. The vulgar People, who are naturally very credulous, fancy'd, that his Buſineſs with the King, was to Preach up the ſuppreſſion of the Impoſts, that Neceſſity had oblig'd him to lay upon 'em, in the time of ſo cruel a War. The Prophet having ta⯑ken leave of the King, return'd to his own Coun⯑try; and the Marquis of Barbeſieux having given him Mony at his arrival, and order'd him to converſe [154] with no body repeated his Bounty to him when he went. So that the Prophet ſpoke nothing of the matter to any-body while he was there; and in⯑deed, he could not well do it, if he would, for he was always kept within view.

Such an extraordinary Adventure as this did not fail to make a great deal of noiſe all over Paris, and even the whole Kingdom; but notwithſtanding that the appearance of Prodigies ought to make People reflect upon their Duty; yet I do not find that this made any Reformation of Manners. De⯑bauchery continued ſtill to Reign among Men and Women; and the exemplary Piety of the King, and part of the Court, had no effect upon the Libertine Spirits. His Majeſty, who, ever ſince his application to Devotion, has made it his Buſineſs to extirpate Vice, not only out of thoſe about his Perſon, but even thoſe who live at a diſtance, held at that time a Council of Con⯑ſcience, at which the Archbiſhop of Paris, and ſome other Prelates, with Father de la Cha [...]ſe his Confeſſor, were call'd to aſſiſt. In that Aſſemb⯑ly, ſeveral methods were propos'd for preventing the uſual diſorders among the Officers and Sol⯑diers. The Archbiſhop of Paris being a very z [...] ⯑lous Man, cry'd up His Majeſty's pious Intention; and gave the reſt to underſtand, that they ought to joyn all their Force in bringing it to bear. For this purpoſe, 'twas propos'd, That a Miſſionary ſhould be ſent to each Regiment, in order to Preach to 'em, and Catechiſe 'em every day. But it being anſwer'd, That Miſſionaries would ſcarce be [...]ound to undertake the Office, by reaſon of their neceſ⯑ſary Reſidence with the Regiments; another mo⯑tion was made and agreed to. I know not indeed whether it has yet produc'd the deſired effect but what is not yet done, may be done here after; and that Time will diſcover. The mo⯑tion was, That none ſhould be imploy'd as Al⯑moners [155] of Regiments, but thoſe who are Perſons of pious and good Lives, and who have Men of Merit to vouch for 'em: And that at the conclu⯑ſion of every Campagne they ſhould be oblig'd to repair to the Seminaries, and continue there all Winter. To ſpeak the truth, I muſt ſay this is an effectual Scheme for having no Almoners but ſuch as are quite different from what they now are. But I queſtion if they'll find any that will ſubmit to that ſort of Life. Moſt people put in for thoſe Places only to divert themſelves; and as ſoon as they find what conſtraint is mean'd 'em, they'll rather deſert than ſubmit to it. Pro⯑bably that is the reaſon that the Thing is not yet put in Execution, and perhaps never will.

While meaſures were concerting for the intro⯑ducing of ſuch excellent Diſcipline among the Troops; one of theſe Almoners being impriſon'd by the King's Order, in one of the Hoſpitals for the Poor, made a ſtrange End after a very odd Life. He was a Recollet by Trade; but being uneaſy under the confinement of a Convent, he procur'd a Diſmiſſion under the pretence of ſerv⯑ing in this Imployment, which by Intrigues, and the Intereſt of Friends, he had obtain'd. He had continued in that Office ſome time; and as thoſe who are once in any meaſure Corrupted, do quick⯑ly become more Corrupt in an Army; ſo he form'd a deſign to render himſelf ſo neceſſary at Court, by a falſe Accuſation, that he might be in a capacity to throw off his Habit which he [...]r [...] with as much uneaſineſs as formerly he did the confinement of the Cloyſter. He had his eye upon one, Abbot Agnan, who, of a Fryer, had made himſelf a Chymiſt Phyſician. He had a ſtrong mind to follow his Example, not in practiſing Phyſick which he did not underſtand, but in wearing the Habit of a ſecular Prieſt, in⯑ſtead of that of a Religious one. His Plea was, [156] That ſince they had allow'd that Abbot to diſ⯑penſe with his Vows upon the pretence of ſome Cures, he might obtain the ſame favour by ſome ſignal Service. Upon that view he repair'd to the Marquis of Chateauneuf, Secretary of State, who manag'd the Affairs of Religion, and pri⯑vately acquainted him, That an Officer of the Re⯑giment to which he was Almoner, had a deſign upon the King's Life: He knew that that Officer was oblig'd to go off then, or next morning, to ſome forreign Country, as well as a great many others who would not change their Religion. Nay, he had counſel'd him ſo to do, and promis'd to come and ſee him, tho' he mean'd nothing leſs.

The Marquis of Chateauneuf, who is, in many things, the leaſt of all the four Secretaries of State, if it be Lawful to call any thing little that's a⯑bout ſo great a Prince, ſent Orders immediately to Arreſt the Officer, and commanded the Recollet to continue at Court. In the mean time, the Of⯑ficer was gone, which the Recollet knew very well: However the Marquis being inform'd of his Departure, told the Recollet he was come too late, and that the Bird was flown three days be⯑fore. The Recollet made Anſwer, That that was none of his fault, and that he could not do the Buſineſs ſooner; That after all, he be⯑liev'd he was only gone to Languedoc, his Native Country, where he would be ſure to keep cloſe; and that in regard, he told him moſt of his haunts, he believ'd he could unkennel him, if the Mar⯑quis would ſent him to that Country. The Mar⯑quis continued ſtill to believe what he ſaid, and accordingly he ſend him to Languedoc, where the Recollet arriv'd very ſpeedily, with the Mo⯑ny he had got for the Charge of the Journey. He had a permiſſion upon his going out of Paris to put on a Gentleman's Habit. But, at laſt, having drill'd on the Affair as long as he could; the [157] Miniſter of State not offering to incourage him any longer, he return'd to this City, where he was inform'd, that the Marquis deſign'd to take him up. The Marquis begun to ſee thro' his Knavety, and would not ſuffer himſelf to be impos'd upon any longer. The Recollet came to know this piece of News very luckily. It fe [...]l out, by chance, that in the very Inn at which he alighted, there was one of the Couſins of the Perſon he had accus'd, to whom Mr. de Chateau⯑neuf had communicated his Thoughts. Now, this Relation had told Mr. deChateauneuf, that his Couſin was, indeed, a true Proteſtant; but he could be Surety, that he was not capable of the Thought he was charg'd with. At the ſame time, he had wrote to his Couſin, to know the truth of the thing; upon which, the Officer re⯑ceiving ſuch information, wrote himſelf to Mr. de Chateauneuf, ſetting forth, That he was ready to return to France, to clear himſelf of the Accuſation, if the King would grant him a Paſſ⯑port, and Aſſurance that he ſhould not be troubled upon the ſcore of his retiring to a foreign Counn⯑try, contrary to his Prohibition.

This Letter was but juſt receiv'd, and the Re⯑lation having been at Verſailles that day, told all the People about the Inn, the whole Story as a piece of acceptable News: But the Recollet was wiſer than to diſcover what hand he had in the matter. Upon that, he drop'd his Deſign of go⯑ing to wait upon Mr. Chateauneuf, and took up at another Inn under a different Name from what he had before: Nay, further, he bought ſuch a Croſs as the Knights of Malta wear, and put a white Feather in his Hat, and went by the Title of Mr. le Chevalier. The People of the firſt Inn [...] ſeeing him next day, were ſurpriz'd, for that [...] had told them nothing of his going. But, [...], the Officer's Kinſman had never ſuſ⯑pected [185] him, if the Recollet had not ſaid at Ta⯑ble, that he came from Languedoc; for ſome⯑body telling him ſo much, happen'd, by way of Jeſt, to ſay, That, perhaps, he was the Man he had been ſpeaking of, and for that reaſon had deſerted the Inn. Upon this, the Kinſman re⯑turn'd next day to Verſailles, to know what ſort of a Man the Recollet was. Mr. Chateauneuf's Deſcription agreeing exactly with what he had ſeen, he acquainted the Miniſter with what paſs'd at Table, and with the ſuſpicion that he ground⯑ed thereupon. Immediately the Secretary gave ſuch expreſs Orders for ſearching all the Inns in Paris, that the Recollet could ſcarce eſcape: For the excellent Orders we have in this City, with reference to all ſtrangers, whether in Inns, or private Lodgings, are ſo admirably well cal⯑culated, that 'tis no great difficulty to make a narrow Enquiry: All the Landlords being oblig⯑ed to give an account who are their Lodgers, and when they arriv'd; the Commiſſary of the Ward where the pretended Knight lodg'd, was inform⯑ed by the Inn-keeper, that he had got a new Gueſt. Thereupon the Commiſſary obſerving the time of his arrival, to jump with that of the ſuſpected Perſon's, he inform'd himſelf of his Features, and ſo took him up; ſo that his pre⯑tended Knight-hood was not ſufficient to keep him Incognito. Preſently he was convey'd either to the Baſtile or Vincennes, where he endeavour⯑ed to make his eſcape; but being prevented, and being at the ſame time guilty of a horrid piece of Sacrilege, he was indited according to his de⯑merit. The Recollets interceeded for him, to prevent the mortification of its being ſaid in the World, That one of their Society was either Hang'd or Burnt. The King graciouſly granted their requeſt, and exchang'd the Sentence of Death for that of perpetual Impriſonment. So [159] he was put into the Hoſpital I ſpoke of but now; but he was no ſooner got in, than he made a new Conſpiracy with the other Ruſſians to make their eſcape; now, this could ſcarce be effected without Killing him that brought 'em their Vi⯑ctuals. But that being not the firſt Crime they had all been guilty of, they mutually agreed, that they ſhould not ſtand to do it. In effect, they committed the Murder, and having made their eſcape, fled to the Palais Royal where they had an acquaintance by whom they expected to be entertain'd. But their Acquaintance abhorring the Crime they had committed, and knowing they had broke the Priſon to which they had been com⯑mitted by the King's Orders, refus'd to receive 'em. Thus they were oblig'd to look out for another hiding Place: But the Goal-Keeper be⯑ing already at their Heels, they were quickly re⯑taken and Tried. The poor Recollet, by vertue of the Intereſt of his Order, was only Condemn⯑ed to the Galleys; but God not contented with this Puniſhment which was infinitely ſhort of his demerit, did ſo order it, that the Gang offering to revolt againſt their Keepers, about fifteen or twenty Leagues from Paris, theſe ſhot upon 'em, and Kill'd the wretched Recollet. Such was his End, and the King having notice of it, was the more forward in reforming the Almo⯑ners of the Army; for that he knew 'twas in that capacity that he firſt began to ſignalize him⯑ſelf by Debauchery and Corruptneſs,

In the mean time, we receiv'd the News of the King of Sweden's Death, which gave the Potentates that deſir'd a Peace, ſome occaſion to fear ſome obſtacle, or delay. But tho' his Succeſſor was very young; and 'twas to be fear⯑ed, that a great many Turmoils might fall out in that Kingdom, during his Minority; yet his Father's Will was ſo well order'd, that it put [160] all to rights. His Son was declar'd to be Ma⯑jor, or of Age, before the uſual Term in Swe⯑den, in order to diſcourage thoſe who mean'd to diſturb the State. At the ſame time, the young King's Grandmother being declar'd his Guardian by her Son's Will, took upon her the Ad⯑miniſtration of the Government. The late King had nominated ſome Counſellors to aſſiſt her; among the reſt the Count of Bielke, a zealous favourer of the Houſe of Auſtria, who had been formerly Ambaſſador at the Court of France, and was diſoblig'd there. However, it being fear'd that he might endeavour to diſturb our Game, perhaps as much out of private reſent⯑ment, as any intention to ſerve the Crown of Spain Count; d'Avaux, the moſt Chriſtian King's Ambaſſador in that Country, had orders to have a watchful Eye upon his Conduct. I know not whether it was the bad Offices done him by Count d'Avaux, or his being guilty of ſeveral unwarrantable Practices when he was Governor of Pomeren, that brought him quickly to be diſgrac'd; but, in fine, he perceiving that he was like to ſink under the Power of his Enemies, wrote to one of his Nephews in France, to in⯑treat his Maieſty to forget what was paſt, and grant him the honour of his Protection. Im⯑mediately, upon the receipt of the Letter, his Nephew ſpoke of it to the King: And the Count's hopes were not fruſtrated; for the King allow⯑ed him to come to France, purſuant to his re⯑queſt; but the Letter, by which his Nephew gave him this Advice, being intercepted by ſome of his Enemies, he was taken up.

At that time, Mr. Laſun had only two Oc⯑cupations, namely, Pleading and Gaming. But as he grew Old, Fortune, which only ſerves Youth, became as unfavourable to him as it had formerly been kind. 'Twas computed, that in [161] the ſpace of three or four Months he loſt a⯑bove ſixty thouſand Piſtols. 'Tis certain he loſt a great deal; but it being known that ſixty thou⯑ſand Piſtols, in the Gaſcogne way of ſpeaking, does not amount to above five or ſix thouſand, others concluded that his loſs might terminate there. He was likewiſe caſt in a Law-Suit a⯑gainſt Madam Fremont, and her Son; and was more caſt down upon that, than upon his loſs at Game; for he ſtill hop'd to regain the lat⯑ter, but the Judgment againſt him excluded all hopes of relief. Beſides, he was troubled that he had made ſuch a noiſe about it, both at Court, and in the City, without better ſucceſs. All his Friends endeavoured to comfort him; and, to ſpeak the truth, they were not much diſſatiſ⯑fied with the rub he met with, becauſe they hop'd it would facilitate his Accommodation with Marſhal de Lorges and his Lady. But ſtiffneſs is ſo natural to old People, that their hopes vaniſh'd in Smoak. He was a turbulent ſort of a Man all his Life-time; inſomuch, that he oftentimes thwarted the King: and he would not then diſclaim that Quality, tho', indeed, 'twas none of the beſt. The Judgment pro⯑nounced againſt him, related only to the Queſti⯑on, whether he was to plead before the Court of Aydes, or that of Requeſts. Now, being re⯑mitted to the laſt, which was the thing he on⯑ly wanted to avoid, he reſolv'd to plead his Cauſe there, tho' he ſhould meet with the ſame ſucceſs that happen'd to him in Ireland. Tho', after all' I know not what reaſon he had to fear any ſuch thing; for he ſhew'd, by his Car⯑riage before them, that he fear'd K. William [...]uch leſs than them.

[162] However, he was not the only Courtier that lov'd to be litigious. The P. of Epinois fol⯑low'd his Example very cloſe. He commenc'd a Suit before the Council againſt the Prince of Bournonville, for the ſucceſſion to the Vicounty of Gand, to which they were equally related. The caſe had been already decided by the Par⯑liament of Rouan, in favour of the Prince of Bournonville. But great Lords are more liable to the purſuit of ill Cauſes than others, be⯑cauſe their Intendants and Agents want only to have 'em ingag'd to a diſadvantage, that they may fiſh in troubled Waters. His true Friends gave him to know, That they fear'd he would he caſt before the Council, as well as before the Par⯑liament. Upon this, he redoubled his Sollici⯑tations, hoping by his Intrigues and diligence to gain what he was apprehenſive of loſing in the Court of Juſtice. The two Princeſſes, his Wife and his Mother, took care likewiſe to make uſe of their Friends. His Wife endea⯑voured to perſwade 'em, that ſhe deſired nothing but Juſtice, hoping to blind 'em by their re⯑ſpect for her Quality. But the Mother was leſs preſumptuous, whether 'twas that ſhe thought ſhe was no longer to be conſider'd as a Prin⯑ceſs, having the Reputation of being married to a Lawyer, or that ſhe was ſenſible of the weakneſs of her Son's Cauſe: Accordingly ſhe confin'd her hopes to the Intereſt of her pre⯑tended Husband. The P. of Bournonville, for his part, was not aſleep, being ſenſible that he had to do with a ſtrong party: But 'twould be a great folly in Judges to have more re⯑gard to Intereſt than Juſtice; and all that the Prince D'Epinois, and his whole Family could do, could not prevent his being fin'd, and oblig'd to pay the Coſts. Indeed the Debate laſted a⯑bove [163] five Hours, becauſe ſome of the Judges had a mind to oblige 'em.

The Counteſs of Grignan being then at Paris, went to ſee the Dutcheſs of Or⯑leans at St. Cloud, who had Diſlocated her Arm, by a Fall from her Horſe at Hunt⯑ing: But ſhe was ſo ill receiv'd, that ſhe did not care to go again for a long time. That Princeſs came to that Houſe, after her Arm had been ſet by a Country Sur⯑geon, that perform'd his Office not amiſs: But being ſtill much Pain'd, ſhe was ſo angry at the Counteſs's ſaying to her, That ſhe came to Congratulate the diſ⯑pelling of her Illneſs, that ſhe was very near kicking her out of her Preſence. The Princeſs, who ſeldom diſguiſes Na⯑ture, check'd her ſo ſeverely, that the Counteſs, upon her return to Paris, made it known to all her Friends, and the Duke of Orleans came to hear of it. His Royal Highneſs told his Lady, That ſhe was in the wrong; but ſhe was ſo un⯑capable of liſtning to Reaſon in the caſe ſhe was in, that there was a neceſſity of waiting till ſhe was well, before ſhe could be convinced of an Error, in having us'd that Lady at ſueh a rate.

The Month of August came on ſoon af⯑ter; and the Jeſuits, in purſuance of their [164] uſual Cuſtom, had a Tragedy Acted in their College of Louis le Grand; So 'tis now call'd; the Names of the The Col⯑lege of Clermont, or of Jeſus being quite ſunk. The Paſſion that the good Fathers had for inſinuating themſelves in the King's Favour, made them prefer Flattery to Gratitude. They have forgot, that their Founders oblig'd them to put their Name upon the Gate, and have put up another in its place; which, indeed, is infinitely greater, and more illuſtrious than Clermont's; but, at the ſame time, did not want Panegyriſts enough beſides them, to tranſmit it with Honour to Poſterity: So that the World did not pardon ſuch an Action; for they had no ſooner taken down the Name of Jeſus from above their great Gate, than two Latin Verſes were Publiſhed which are well enough known in the World; but there being ſeveral that have not ſeen them, 'twill not be altogether improper to inſert them here, and to preſerve the Memory of them if it were capable to be loſt: They are as followeth.

[161] The meaning of theſe Verſes, is, That this So⯑ciety in which Impiety reigns, took down the Name of Jeſus, and put up the King's Arms; and ſo ne⯑ver recogniz'd any other God than the Kings of the Earth. I am very far from ſaying that this is a truth. Nay, I ſhould rather affirm, that Piety reigns among 'em inſtead of Impiety: but conſidering that they have many Enemies, we muſt not be ſurpris'd if they have recourſe to ſome Impoſture or other, when the ſmalleſt Faults they can be guilty of, are charg'd upon 'em with Reproach. However, Mon⯑ſieur being invited to the abovemention'd Tragedy, he and the whole Court honour'd it with their Pre⯑ſence; upon which Father Jai, who has a great Genius for that ſort of Repreſentation, complimen⯑ted him on the behalf of the Rector of that Col⯑lege, ſetting forth, that if the Performance pleas'd him, all the Honour of it was due to him. The good Father made a long tedious Speech, ſcrewing in ſeveral Panegyricks upon the late Duke of S. Ag⯑nan, who was not only a great lover of Acting, but ſo good an Actor, that upon occaſion he acted all the different Parts one after another. Having ſpoke all that he had to ſay, he took leave, and went to cauſe the Repreſentation to be begun. But when every one was pricking up his Ears, that they might not loſe one word of the Performance, this mighty Inventer fell out with his Fidlers, inſomuch, that inſtead of Playing, they put up their Inſtru⯑ments, and offer'd to go away. Father Jai being touch'd with the Affront they thus put upon him, preach'd to 'em, and catechiz'd 'em, in order to make 'em alter their Reſolution. But after he had thus acted the part of a Preacher, a Trade that in the mean time he knew nothing of, he at laſt came to threaten 'em with his Arms, where his greater Excellency lay. He gave the Muſicians to know, that the leaſt they could expect, was, to have their Inſtruments broke over their Heads. But all this did [164] [...] [161] [...] [162] not ſoften them: They ſtill inſiſted on their Reſo⯑lution to be gone; ſo that the poor Father was forc'd to have recourſe to Monſieur to make 'em comply. Accordingly Monſieur interpos'd his Au⯑thority, and the Muſicians did for him what they refus'd to do for the Father: Then the Tragedy was begun, but its end was much of a piece with the Prelude. For ſeveral People quarell'd, and were ſo warm, that they ſtood in need of Monſieur's Authority to reſtrain 'em. However, the Matter was accommodated without Monſieur's Intervention; and the King who loves to be inform'd of all that paſſes in Paris or Verſailles, no ſooner had an ac⯑count of the Adventures at this Tragedy, but he ſaid a word of Monſieur that ſounded well enough. He turn'd to ſome Lords that were laughing at this Adventure, and ſaid, The Court had been long a Suf⯑ferer by the leſs of the Duke of S. Agnan, but thank God Monſieur was about to repair their loſs. In effect, this Duke was all his life-long a Judge among the Muſicians of Paris; he was ſo far from thinking that Office to be beneath his Quality, that on the other hand he thought nothing more proper for him, pleading that the Players on the Violin not only con⯑tributed to Gallantry, but were in a manner the neceſſary Inſtruments to carry it on; and thinking that himſelf exceeded all other Men in Gallantry, he upon that ſcore laid claim to the Government of them, entitling himſelf to a preference to all others.

The Biſhop of Orleans did not keep his Anger long; whether it was that he was ſenſible of his Error in being angry, or that he was not apt to continue a Reſentment long. He return'd to Paris, whither he brought his Nephew. But his Nephew, who would not ſacrifice his Hopes of a Biſhoprick to the love he had for his Uncle, renew'd his Addreſſes to Father de la Chaiſe, and to the King. At that time ſeveral Biſhopricks were Vacant, and among others, [163] the Biſhoprick of Mentz, which is none of the moſt inconſiderable Sees in the Kingdom; for beſides that the Biſhop of that place is at the ſame time Prince of the Empire, and has a right to put the Sword as well as the Mitre in his Arms, like the Eccleſiaſtick Electors, the Biſhop of Munſter, and ſeveral other Princes; his Incomes amount to almoſt 80000 Livres a Year. The eldeſt Brother of the late Duke of Feuillade had ſucceeded to it, when the Duke of Verneuil, who had enjoy'd it from his Youth, married Duke Sulli's Widow. The Abbot of Coaſlin ſcarce made any Pretenſions to it, in con⯑ſideration of what had paſs'd: But the King, who commonly takes pleaſure in granting unexpected Favours, beſtow'd that Dignity upon him, to the great aſtoniſhment of all France, and even of his own Family. This entirely put an end to what chagrin the Biſhop of Orleans retain'd upon the ſcore of the Bank. However, his Majeſty, who never does a Favour by halves, obſerving that neither this new Prelate, nor his Family, were in a Condition to raiſe the 20000 Crowns that he was oblig'd to ſend to Rome for his Bulls; his Majeſty, I ſay, ta⯑king this into Conſideration, intreated the Pope by a Letter under his own Hand, to let this Prelate have his Bulls gratis. If the King had gratified him with this rich Benefice five or ſix Months later than he did, he might have ſav'd himſelf the trouble of writing to Rome, for the Biſhop of Orleans was made Cardinal before that time, and the Cardinal's Ne⯑phews never pay for their Bulls, that being a Privi⯑lege among many others that is tack'd to the Purple. The Pope did not deny his Majeſty ſo ſmall a Re⯑queſt; ſo that the new Biſhop receiving his Bulls gratis, was ſuddenly capable to keep his Father's Coach from being ſeiz [...]d again. Since our Parents are the firſt Poor that we ought to relieve, and ſince his Father wanted his Aſſiſtance, 'twas his Duty to begin with him in the Diſpenſation of his Wealth.

[164] The Tuilleries are the place of Rendezvous for all the Perſons of Quality of Fortune in Paris: And at preſent, 'tis a Cuſtom among the Ladies, as well as the Gentlemen, to keep Footmen from 25 to 30 Years of Age; and commonly at the Gates and Doors there ſtands ſuch a numerous quantity of Footmen, as upon occaſion would make a Recruit of 4 or 5000 Men. Now, theſe Gentlemen Lac⯑quies having the daily Opportunity of ſeeing the Freaks and Intrigues of their Miſtriſſes, and having no great reaſon to entertain a very good Opinion of 'em, one may know the Hiſtory of each Lady by hearing their Conferences. At that time, one of theſe Comical Fellows ſaid to his Fellow Servants, that if they would give him a Bottle of Wine, he would lift up the Coats of the firſt Lady that came out. They readily agreed to give that reward for ſuch a nice piece of Diverſion. In the mean time, Mademoiſelle d' Armagnac, and the Marchioneſs de Villequier came out together; and the Footman, probably not knowing who they were, offer'd to perform upon them the Inſolence he had promis'd. The Ladies ſurpriz'd with the unaccount⯑able Brutality, cry'd out for help, and ſtopp'd the Footman themſelves; ſeveral Perſons of Quality alighting from their Coaches, aſſiſted them to prevent the Fellow's making his Eſcape; upon this he was impriſon'd▪ Some Judges were for putting him to Death, to ſcare thoſe of his Kidney from ſuch lewd⯑neſs; but others thought the Pillory and the Gallies a ſufficient Puniſhment for what he had done. And thus he was only order'd to go and ſerve the King in the Gallies; though, to ſpeak the truth, his Inſo⯑lence deſerv'd another ſort of uſage. However, that wretched ſort of Cattel entertain'd the Publick very often with Scenes of this nature, which were ſtill worſe when they wore Swords. Every day they were guilty of ſome Inſolence or other, and there was a great deal of reaſon for forbidding 'em [165] the uſe of Swords. The occaſion of that Prohibi⯑tion was the Father of Monſieur Tilladet, whom they kill'd, and ſo ſtopp'd the Courſe of his Fortune, which perhaps would have gone further than that of his Children, becauſe he had married the Siſter of the late Monſieur le Tellier. 'Tis true, he was not al⯑ways in good terms with him. That Miniſter, whoſe Projects bore a Proportion to his Fortune, pretend⯑ed to Marry his Siſter better than to a little Gentle⯑man of Gaſcony. But young Ladies often Marry without their Friends Conſent, and ſhe particularly diſpos'd of her ſelf without conſulting him upon the matter. This was the occaſion of their miſun⯑derſtanding. But as time ſinks all Differences, ſo his Brother-in-law and he were good Friends when that accident happen'd.

At that time the Dutcheſs of Feuillade dy'd; and her Death was not much regreated by her Husband, who, if we believe the common Report, liv'd ſo indifferently with her, that he never injoy'd her. But though he did not lament her loſs, all that knew her did, for ſhe was a very amiable Lady, and never gave any occaſion to talk of her. Beſides, ſhe was very Young, being not above 20 Years of Age. But there are ſome invincible Antipathies; and 'tis plain, the Duke was not of a Temper ſuit⯑able to her, ſince he did not reſpect what all the World pronounc'd lovely. It ſeems he likewiſe de⯑ſpis'd her Alliance; though, to ſpeak the truth, there were a great many of as good Families as his at leaſt, who would willingly have married Ladies that had not ſo much to boaſt of as ſhe. For if 'tis true, that a Family is render'd Illuſtrious by the paſt or preſent Poſſeſſion of great Places; we ſhall ſcarce find one in the Kingdom, at leaſt retaining to the Law, that could equal this. It produc'd ſix or ſeven Secretaries of State, and at preſent boaſts of three. This Lady was the Daughter of the Mar⯑quiſs of Chateauneuf, who, indeed, is but a little [166] Secretary of State, in compariſon with the other three. But as there are no little Saints in Paradiſe, becauſe God, who is infinitely Great, communicates ſomewhat of himſelf to thoſe who have ſerv'd him faithfully, ſo there's no ſuch thing, as a little Secre⯑tary of State, under the greateſt King in Chriſtendom.

Mean while, Marſhal Boufflers and my Lord Port⯑land having remov'd a great many Difficulties by their Conferences; the King in concert with the Emperor, propos'd to keep Strasbourg, and to give up to his Imperial Majeſty that Part of Briſack that lies beyond the Rhine. The City of Strasbourg did not belong to the Emperor, and by right it ought to have return'd to the Inhabitants, who were Pro⯑prietors of it, before the King had it. This Inno⯑vation did not pleaſe the Princes of the Empire, eſpecially thoſe ſituated on this ſide the Rhine, or juſt by the other. But great Princes do not much mind little ones, when their own Intereſt is in the caſe; and upon that foot the Conſent of the King of England was enough to make it bear. 'Tis al⯑ledg'd that that Prince conſented to it, only upon the hopes that his ſatisfying the King of France in a thing that he deſir'd ſo paſſionately, would move his moſt Chriſtian Majeſty to give him ano⯑ther recompence that he on the other ſide, was as eager to obtain He did not like King James's con⯑tinuing at St. Germains, thinking that place to lie too near Verſailles. And upon a parallel Caſe, Crom⯑well who was not ſhort of him in Politicks, us'd all his Intereſt in his time to oblige his Majeſty to re⯑move from his Court, not only the late King Charles, who after his Father's Misfortune had fled to Paris, but likewiſe the Queen his Mother. Accordingly he obtain [...]d his end with reference to King Charles, and even the Duke of York, his Brother, who had likewiſe fled thither; but as to the Queen he could never gain his Point there, notwithſtanding that he wheedled Cardinal Mazarin with the Propoſal of a [167] Marriage between his own Son and one of the Cardinal's Nieces. For that Princeſs made a vigo⯑rous Oppoſition againſt this Miniſter's Propoſal of her removal from the Court of France, and would never conſent to it, notwithſtanding the great Ad⯑vantages accruing to her upon that Condition, particularly a large Penſion from England.

My Lord Portland gave the Marſhal ſome hint of his Maſter's Deſign, with a good Addreſs. The Mar⯑ſhal, who is not ſo much a Stateſman as a good Ser⯑vant to the King, had nevertheleſs Senſe enough up⯑on this Occaſion to give him ſome hopes of ſucceed⯑ing without going too far. However, People being always apt to flatter themſelves, my Lord was per⯑ſwaded, That the King could not refuſe what King William deſir'd, after the Condeſcention in the Af⯑fair of Strasbourg; and nothing was thought of upon both ſides, but the Execution of what theſe two Miniſters ſhould agree upon. The Princes of the Empire were ſtill diſpleas'd; they could not forbear complaining that the Article relating to Strasbourg was contrary to the Preliminaries of the Peace; they knew very well that the firſt thing de⯑manded of Monſieur Cailleres before the Commence⯑ment of the Conferences with him, was the Reſti⯑tution of Lorrain, Strasbourg, and Luxembourg. The Emperor's Miniſters anſwer'd to this, That the King's Conqueſt of Barcelona had chang'd the Face of Affairs, that he demanded an Equivalent, and that conſidering how things ſtood, 'twas well for them that he was contented with ſo little. They were glad they had this Pretence to cover the Ad⯑vantage accruing to their Maſter by that new Pro⯑poſal. In fine, they ſaw very well, that after all Europe had drain'd it ſelf in carrying on the War, the Houſe of Auſtria were the only Gainers by it. But the Princes of the Empire, who did not ap⯑prove of theſe Reaſons, could not comply ſo eaſily with the Propoſal. They ſollicited the Emperor and [168] the Mediators, to get that Clauſe alter'd that ſeem'd to be ſo diſadvantageous to them. His Imperial Ma⯑jeſty did not mind them; for that in granting their Requeſt, he ſhould have acted contrary to his own Intereſt. The Mediators gave no other excuſe, but that all Europe ſtood equally in need of a Peace, and that the Ceſſion of all on this ſide of the Rhine, and ſtipulating a Reſtitution of all on the other ſide, was the beſt Expedient, both to put a ſpeedy end to the preſent War, and to prevent a future Rup⯑ture.

Neither their Anſwer, nor that of the Emperors, gave 'em any Satisfaction. They fanſy'd the Medi⯑ators were influenc'd by France; at leaſt they per⯑ſwaded themſelves, that if the late King of Sweden had been ſtill alive, he would never have tamely ſuffer'd things to paſs ſo. Being thus prepoſſeſs'd with the apprehenſion of the great Prejudice accruing to them from the Peace, they did not comply very early. While the reſpective Parties were buſi'd in managing their ſeveral Pretenſions, the Affairs of Poland were brought to that Confuſion, that 'twas thought they would never be adjuſted without a Civil War. Th [...] Cardinal Primate ſent a Courier to France, to know what was the reaſon that the Prince of Conti did not come to take the Crown upon his Head. He repreſented, that his Intereſt ſuffer'd mightily by his apparent Indifferency in ly⯑ing quiet at Par [...]s, or the Court, at a time when Poland was in a Combuſtion out of Reſpect and Love to him. That the Duke of Saxony was not wanting in reaping a mighty Advantage by it; that he de⯑bauch d thoſe of his Party, upon the Plea that 'twould be folly to adhere any longer to a Prince that deſerted 'em in that manner; that his Preſence in Poland was deſir'd beyond Expreſſion; and that on the other hand, the Duke of Saxony was ſo hated, that upon the Prince's Arrival every body would ſide with him out of ſpite to the other.

[169] The Abbot of Polignac gave the Court to know as much by every Courier he ſent. At laſt, the King having call'd a Council upon the matter, re⯑ſolv'd that the Prince of Conti ſhould go immediate⯑ly to that Country. And in regard he could not expect a good Reception without carrying Money with him, his Majeſty gave him Bills of Exchange for 2000000, beſides 10000 Louis-d'ores, for petty Occaſions. The Peace was then not made, and 'twas poſſible it might fail, by reaſon of the Intereſt of the Princes of the Empire, who ſtill oppos'd it with great Warmth and Reſolution. Upon this ac⯑count 'twas queſtion'd by many, how the Prince ſhould get with ſafety into Poland. To go there in⯑cognito was at once diſhonourable and dangerous, and to do it by open force was impoſſible, the Ene⯑mies Fleet being at Sea, which all the Power of France could not cope with. But notwithſtanding the Strength of their Fleet, the Kng fitted out Squadrons every Day, which not only got off clear, but were continually annoying them by taking Prizes. And accordingly a Squadron was order'd to Tranſport the Prince: John Bart having taken upon him to Conduct the Prince, took care to make the Squadron ready by Orders from Court. 'Twas fitted out at Dunkirk, and the Allies having notice of it, ſent 14 Ships to that Road, to hinder any thing to go in, or come out. This Obſtacle did not amuſe John Bart, though another would have been much perplex'd with it. 'Tis not known how the Enemy had ſuch an early Intelligence of the Deſign, for the King kept it ſo ſecret that no body in France knew of it, till within two Days before the time of his Departure. However, it ſeems, it came by Spies, of which they had a great many every where, eſpecially at the Sea-Ports.

But that Trade was more hazardous than Bart's Expedition, though at the ſame time it was attend⯑ed by a great deal of Danger. For one of theſe Spie [170] was taken up, not long before, in the ſame place where this Squadron was fitted out; and conſidering the riſque he run, 'tis not imaginable how little he got by it. One Couture, a Paris-Councellor, a Man of little Practice, and a narrow Fortune, being in⯑veigled by a Woman, that either had debauch'd him, or had been debauch'd by him, went a ſtrow⯑ling up and down the Country with her. There he try'd ſeveral Trades that did not agree very well with the Bar; but being bred to Harangue and De⯑claim, he at laſt liſted himſelf among a Company of ſtrowling Actors, which after a great many turnings and windings brought him to the French Flanders; there he acted his Parts, and coming afterwards to Dunkirk, met there with a Man that having known him at Paris, repreſented to him the ſcandalouſneſs of his Imployment. The Counſellor-Actor made anſwer, That 'twas eaſy to talk of things, but when a Man had nothing, he was oblig'd to do what he could. Thereupon his Friend gave him to know, that if he would truſt him, he would find him a better Trade, in which he might earn his Bread with leſs La⯑bour. The Counſellor being not over-ſatisfied with the Trade he was then in, took him at his word; upon which his Friend ſaid, They behov'd to drink together, before he could ſpeak farther upon the Matter. Having carried him to a Tavern, he acquainted him over a Glaſs, That he had ſeveral Relations in Holland, who were great Traders, and were every day annoy'd with the Prizes made by the French Ships; that they would willingly give 2000 Livers a Year to any Man that would engage to give 'em timely notice what Ships are fitting out from Dun⯑kirk and St. Maloes; that if he would find a Friend to reſide in one of theſe places, while himſelf con⯑tinued in the other, he would ſee that Sum paid him; and that there was no great Difficulty or La⯑bour in the performance of what was deſir'd. 'Tis poſſible, he likewiſe ſet forth to him, that in under⯑taking [171] that Office, he would do a charitable Acti⯑on, by preſerving ſo many honeſt Men from Ruin. However the Counſellor accepted the offer, and ſettled one Martin for his Sub-delegate at St. Maloes, allowing him 500 Livres a Year: Himſelf con⯑tinued at Dunkirk, waiting till he could find out another Deputy for the ſame price, that ſo he might go to Paris; and there injoy the remaining 1000 Livres of his Penſion. Accordingly he found one in a little time. But his other Deputy, Mr. Martin, being a Man of no great Head, and his Office requiring an Infinity of Senſe and Precaution, he was ſoon ſuſpected by the Inhabitants of St. Maloes. Tho' he colour'd his Reſidence in that place with a pre⯑tence of ſome ſmall Commerce and Trade, that he had taken up only for a feint; yet they obſerving his Diligence and Curioſity in going every Day to the Haven to ſee what was done there, immediately gave the Court notice of him. The Court ſent Orders to have a watchful Eye upon him. At laſt, their Suſpicion being ſtill inflam'd by his Conduct, they ſtopp'd his Letters at the Poſt-houſe, which were addreſs'd to Couture at one Madam Clerc's in Paris. At the ſame time, Letters were ſent to Cou⯑ture from his other Correſpondent at Dunkirk: Both theſe were open'd, and afterwards ſeal'd ſo artifici⯑ally, that he could not diſcover it. They obſerv'd that both the Correſpondents made mention of ſome Naval Preparations at theſe two places, and were very particular in their Accounts. After that, 'twas found that the uſe he made of their Intelligence, was to convey the ſame to Holland. This being ſufficient Evidence, they were all three taken up: Poor S. Martin fearing to be broken on the Wheel, or at leaſt hang'd, would not ſtay till he was exa⯑min'd; but threw himſelf headlong over a Rock, upon which he was impriſon'd. Couture's Mother having married a Council-Barriſter for her ſecond Husband, had ſo much Intereſt at Court, as to get [172] her Son's Puniſhment converted into perpetual Im⯑priſonment: By which means the Dunkirk-Deputy got off at the ſame rate. And ſo there was an end of the Story.

To return. 'Tis very probable the Enemy diſco⯑ver'd Monſieur Bart's Deſign by ſome ſuch means. However, the [...] Ships coming before Dunkirk, watch'd Night and Day, for fear the Man that had already trick'd 'em ſo often, ſhould boaſt once more of playing them a new trick. The day before the Prince's Departure, the King was two Hours with him in private in the Caſtle of Marli; and there be⯑ing no Witneſſes of what paſt between 'em, we can only make Conjectures about it. What can we ima⯑gine it to be? unleſs we ſay, That his Majeſty, who is ſo well vers'd in the Art of Government, gave him Leſſons how to behave upon his Arrival in the Kindgdom he was call'd to, in caſe the Sub⯑jects ſhould prove as affectionate as they were re⯑preſented to be, as well as in caſe they ſhould prove otherwiſe, which the Prince was very apprehen⯑ſive of. For all their Intelligence from Poland, by any other Hands than the Cardinal Primate, and the Abbot of Polignac, gave a contrary Account of things to what theſe two Miniſters did. All the Mer⯑chants Letters from Dantzick, and the other neigh⯑bouring Places, ſpoke of nothing but of the great number of Creatures retaining to the Duke of Sax⯑ [...]ny. The Letters that came to the Marchioneſs of Bethunes, ſpoke to the ſame purpoſe; but when any body ask'd her what they contain'd, ſhe ſpoke as dubiouſly as ſhe could, leaving them to gueſs more than ſhe had a mind to tell. Thoſe who were quick⯑ſighted knew the cauſe of her Silence; but they made no uſe of it, knowing that one is never thank'd for telling diſagreeable News.

All this did not hi [...]der the Prince to ſet out. He took with him no Perſons of Note or Diſtinction, unleſs you put the Chevalier's de Lauſun and Sill [...]ri [173] in that Rank; but the one being as poor as a Rat, let his Family be what it will, and the other being a Cadet as well as he, and one whoſe Family has nothing but a Chancellor for its greateſt Orna⯑ment, I thought I might diſpenſe with the giving 'em that Title. The latter aſſum'd the Name of Count Silleri at his Departure, either becauſe he hop'd the Prince of Conti, whoſe Domeſtick he was, would raiſe him to a great Fortune now he was call'd to a Throne; or becauſe having declar'd his Marri⯑age with the Daughter of an Auditor of the Ac⯑counts, that brought him ſome Money, he had a mind to leave her a more honourable Title than that of a Chevalier's Lady. The Eve before the Prince's Departure, he receiv'd the Viſits of all the Court, who came to take leave of him. At Night he ſupp'd with the Prince of Conde his Father-in-Law, and his whole Family; after which, a great many Tears were ſhed, as if they ſhould never ſee him again. Perhaps, they knew that he could not ſet that Crown upon his Head without coming to the Point of the Sword, and conſequently that he had many Dangers to go through. And in earneſt that conſideration is more than ſufficient to alarm thoſe who are concern'd for a Perſon; ſo that if Tears be allowable upon any occaſion, they are upon this. The Princeſs of Conti appear'd to be leſs mov'd than the reſt; or at leaſt, if ſhe ſhed any Tears, they were not ſo bitter as they might have been. Though there was no body that was ſo nearly concern'd for the Prince as her ſelf; yet ſhe thought it her Duty to behave her ſelf ſo, as to ſeem worthy of the great Fortune to which ſhe aſpir'd. Not that ſhe did not love the Prince very tenderly; but be⯑ſides this her Ambition, and the Deſire of being a Queen, that had ſo great a place in her Soul, ſhe was not ill pleas d to ſee the Prince go from Court. She knew too well that he was amorous to a fooliſh degree; and fed her ſelf with the hopes that the re⯑moval [174] of his Miſtriſs from his Eyes, would unhinge his Affection for her.

The Prince rid Poſt to Dunkirk, his Equipage being ſent before with all poſſible Expedition. The Coffer which contain'd the 10000 Piſtols that the King gave him, happen'd to be broke underneath, and the Purſe in which they were being turn'd upſide down, a great many of 'em were dropp'd about two are three Leagues from Paris. By chance, 'twas upon a Market-day that they were loſt; and the Gonneſſe Bakers having found 'em, no ſooner underſtood whoſe they were, than they deliver'd 'em up; for one of the Prince's Pages had come back to know if any body had found 'em. 'Tis alledg'd, that the Prince had purpoſely left 3 or 400 Piſtols out of the Bag, and put them in that ſorry Coffer, in order to leave with thoſe that found 'em an eternal Memorial of his Departure from France. 'Tis true, he is likely enough to do ſuch a thing, for he's as generous a Prince as any about the Court: And for that rea⯑ſon, 'twas ſaid of him, that if he ſhew'd himſelf to be of the Houſe of Conde by his Bravery, he would not do it by his Generoſity. He took nothing to himſelf; and 'twas ſuch a Prince as he that the Poles wanted, in order, to ſink the Memory of the Avarice of their late King, or rather to make 'em ſenſible how advantageous his earlier Arrival at the Throne had been to them; for he would never have ſold a Palatinate, or any other Place; his Hu⯑mour was too much a ſtranger to the ſordid Mea⯑ſures of their late King, or at leaſt, if ever he ſhould take up with them, he muſt needs be very much alter'd. Bart had prepar d every thing for putting to Sea, and ſcarce allow'd the Prince a few hours Sleep, till he weigh'd Anchor with a fair Wind. He paſs'd by his Enemies, without being perceiv'd; and ſteer'd on his Courſe without any Oppoſition; for they knew nothing of his paſſing till 'twas too late to purſue him.

[175] All the Northern Princes were mightily concern'd about the Tranſactions in Poland, for all of 'em had Affairs to adjuſt with that Crown. However, the King of Denmark did not act up to the Meaſures of the reſt, who earneſtly deſir'd that the Duke of Sax⯑ony ſhould be preferr'd to this Prince; for he would never grant Audience to a Miniſter that the Duke ſent to ſollicit him to hinder the Prince to enter the Baltick. He put him off with trifling Amuſe⯑ments, till the Prince had paſt the Sundt, and then gave Audience to the Envoy; after which, he wait⯑ed with Patience and Tranquillity, till God ſhould decide an Affair of that conſequence as he pleas'd. Some indeed alledge that he offer'd underhand ſome Ships to the Prince of Conti; and that the Prince only thank'd him for his good will, becauſe he thought he had no occaſion for 'em, and that the Succeſs of his Expedition depended rather upon the Affection and good Will of the Poles, than upon any Succours he could receive from any other hand but the King, his Maſter. After all, the Prince arriv'd before Dantzick, being incourag'd to hope that the Inhabitants of that City would open their Gates to him. This City was to him, as 'twere, the Key of Poland; eſpecially if he ſhould be oblig'd to di⯑ſpute his Title to that Crown upon the point of the Sword. 'Twas by that place only that he could expect Succours from France, ſince theſe could not come otherwiſe than by Sea. But inſtead of an⯑ſwering his Expectation, the Citizens ſent Deputies to intreat him not to come aſhoar in their Territo⯑ries; by reaſon that in the preſent State of Affairs, they could not declare either for him, or the Duke of Saxony, without expoſing themſelves to great ha⯑zards. The Prince of Conti did not conſtrue their Words literally, but as he ought to have done. He preſently perceiv'd that their Words inſinuated all the Enmity to him that could be; and that they had only diſguis'd their real Sentiments for fear of [176] diſpleaſing the King, whoſe Power they were too well acquainted with, to draw it upon their own Heads. At the ſame time, ſome French Merchants that were ſettled there, came on Board his Ship, to offer him their Service in what their Power could reach, and aſſur'd him that his Sentiments of the Matter were very juſt. Nay, they gave him to know that the City had enter'd into a ſtrict Alliance with the Duke of Saxony, by the Mediation of the Elector of Brandenburg, who had ſet it on foot as ſoon as he re⯑ceiv'd Advice of his Election; That if they might freely diſcloſe their Thoughts to him, they would not adviſe him to go aſhoar any where, without a ſtrong French Army to guard his Perſon: That they knew not what Reports might have been ſpread abroad to perſwade his Highneſs to come ſo far, but they were afraid he would only have the trouble of returning without effecting any thing: That the Poles who were formerly Friends to the French, began to take up the ſame Paſſion againſt them that other Nations had: That the Glory of the King had ſtruck them with fear as well as the others: That they were made to believe that the King aſpir'd to an Univerſal Monarchy; and that the fear of becoming his Subjects, ſcar'd them from preferring a Prince of his Blood to their Throne.

Though theſe Merchants had not given this Ac⯑count to the Prince, he had quickly found it out himſelf. Inſtead of that croud of new Subjects that the Cardinal Primate had made him to expect be⯑fore his Departure from France, there came ſcarce any one to viſit him on Board; moſt of thoſe that came, were only mov [...]d ſo to do by their Curioſi⯑ty; ſo that excepting a very ſmall number that of⯑fer'd to pay him the uſual Honours of Soveraignty, and treated him as King, there was no body that did any thing like it: But he would never ſuffer either theſe, or his own Retinue to do it, for fear [177] his Reign ſhould be ſhort-liv'd. He gave them to know, that he was not ſo over-fond of a Crown, as to purchaſe it at the Expence of his Honour; that he only came thither in compliance with the Car⯑dinal Primate's Requeſt to Succour their Nation; which, as he alledg'd, the Duke of Saxony mean'd to oppreſs by a boundleſs Ambition; that the Car⯑dinal had promis'd to draw together an Army out of hand to inable him to ſatisfy his deſire; that when he ſhould have done what he pretended to in ſerving them, he would not then declin [...] [...]he Title of their Defender; but as for that of King he would never accept of it, till things were upon another foot than what they were at that time; and indeed they could not be upon a worſe foot than they were, with Reference to him. The Duke of Saxony, after his being proclaim'd King by his own Party, had not only poſſeſs'd himſelf of the City and Caſtle of Cracow, but likewiſe of that of War⯑ſaw, where the Kings of Poland us'd to Reſide. He had got himſelf Crown'd in one of theſe two places, partly by Force, and partly by good Will; while the Cardinal Primate proteſted equally againſt his Coronation and his Election.

The Prince of Conti finding that the Duke was thus Maſter of the Heart of the Country, and that Dantzick was but too partial to him, us'd all his Efforts to gain the Governor of Mariembourg, a place that was not far diſtant from the place where he was. Could he have maſter'd that, and been ſuccour'd by his Party, he would have made it a place of Arms. The Governor of that place made as if he liſten'd to his Propoſal, in order to make him ſpeak French; but the Prince being not in a Humour to do it without ſeeing further into Affairs, gave him only conditional Promiſes; upon which the Governor, who had not yet made up Matters with the Duke of Saxony, endeavour'd to do it, tho' without acquainting him that he did it, becauſe he [178] could have no Security from his Rival. The Ge⯑nerals of the Army of the Crown, and that of Li⯑thuania, came likewiſe to feel the Prince of Conti's Pulſe, and to try if they could finger his Bills of Exchange. They had hitherto pretended to enter⯑tain a Correſpondence with the Abbot of Polignac, upon the magnificent Promiſes he had made 'em. That Ambaſſador thought he might promiſe any thing, ſo as to ſecure this Crown, without obſer⯑ving that he had to do with People as cunning as himſelf, and even engag'd under-hand to the Duke of Saxony, from whom they expected to draw more conſiderable Sums than from him. The Prince of Conti had no mind to bid ſo high as the Ambaſſa⯑dor, becauſe lying is not the Character of a Prince, as it is of thoſe Miniſters, who commonly think the direct contrary of what they ſpeak. Accordingly he reply'd, that he was oblig'd to them for the ten⯑der of their Service, but if they pretended to be paid before-hand, he willingly diſpens'd with it; that he was ready to bargain with them about what he ſhould give 'em, provided they made his Election good; but if they mean'd only to take his Money, and afterwards to excuſe themſelves upon the Plea of the impoſſibility of making good their promiſes, he would chuſe rather to keep his Money, than expoſe himſelf to future Repentance for giving it away to no purpoſe. Theſe Generals, or rather their Deputies, hearing him ſpeak in this faſhion, perceiv'd quickly that he was too long-headed for them; and having drop'd all deſigns of pulling a Feather from him, did under-hand adviſe the Duke of Saxony to endeavour by all poſſible means to ſeize upon his Perſon. To bring this about, inſtead of declaring openly for the Duke, they made their Ad⯑dreſs to the Cardinal Primate, as if they had been troubled to quit an Intereſt that they were joyn'd to by Inclination. The Cardinal ſuffer'd himſelf to be amus'd for ſome time by glittering Hopes, and [179] even fed the Prince with them. He endeavour'd to perſuade him that he would ſpeedily ſend him an Army capable to reduce the Duke of Saxony; which ſhould oblige the Prince to wait the Execution of his Promiſes, notwithſtanding the Inconveniencies he ſtrugled with upon the Sea.

This Affair was ſo long in dependance, that the Peace after dwindling for ſome Months, was con⯑cluded before it came to be determin'd. The Princes of the Empire were forc'd to ſubmit to the plea⯑ſure of ſtronger Powers. The French recognis'd the Prince of Orange as King of England; and that Prince coming then to the Hague, the Plenipotenti⯑aries of France began to pay him the Honour and Reſpect that was due to the Dignity they had ac⯑knowledg'd to be his. However, it happen'd that Monſieur Harlai being accuſtom'd to call him by another Name than that of King, us'd his wonted Expreſſion in a Conference where he was preſent; but being at the ſame time ſenſible of his fault, he made the beſt Reparation he could. Madam Harlai, the Chancellor's Daughter, having gone to meet her Husband in Holland; and having the Curioſity to ſee that Prince whom all the French have a parti⯑cular Eſteem for, notwithſtanding the harm he has done 'em: This Lady, I ſay, imploy'd ſome body to deſire Audience of him in ſome place or other. The New King would not give it her at his own Apartments, but ſent her word to be at the Princeſs of Vaudemont's at a certain hour. Madam Harlai had all the reaſon in the World to be ſatisfied with his Civility and Courteſy. As for Monſieur Harlai, he to act the part of a good Courtier, acquainted my Lord Albemarle, his Britiſh Majeſty's new Favou⯑rite, who began then to have as great an Aſcendant in the King's Affection, as ever my Lord Portland had: He acquainted him, I ſay, That he deſir'd his Maſter's Picture. My Lord Albemarle promis'd to give it him; but withal, intreated him to have pa⯑tience [180] for ſome time, becauſe his Maſter was upon his Return to England, and he was afraid he could not ſpare the time to let it be drawn. Whether that Lord forgot his Promiſe, or whether the King of Britain was ſo taken up with Affairs of Conſe⯑quence, that my Lord could not have the opportu⯑nity of making good his Promiſe; whatever was in it, four or five Months paſs'd, and Monſieur Harlai had reſolv'd not to think of it farther, when he re⯑ceiv'd Information at Paris that my Lord's Trum⯑peter ſtaid in his Hall to ſpeak with him. At firſt he could not conjecture what ſhould bring him ſo far from home, for he was far from thinking that his Maſter ſhould have call'd to mind his Requeſt, after letting ſo much time ſlip without ſending to him. But after all, he found that his Errand was to bring him the Picture. My Lord had caus'd a magnificent Frame to be made for it at Paris, be⯑cauſe that ſort of Work is better done there than in England. The Trumpeter took care to let him know ſo much, to ſhew what Pains his Maſter took to content him. Monſieur Harlai thought this an odd way of conveying a Picture; but Foreigners have their peculiar Cuſtoms as we have ours; and ſo he was e [...]en oblig'd to take the Complement to⯑gether with the Charges. He gave the Trumpeter a handſome Preſent; and that being all that this Meſ⯑ſenger wanted, he return'd forthwith to his own Country.

Of all the King's Plenipotentiaries at Ryſwick, Monſieur Harlai, as 'tis alledg'd, bore the leaſt Fi⯑gure as to Senſe, but he bore the greateſt on another ſcore, I mean his Quality, and the firſt places of the Robe, which for a long time have been fill'd by his Anceſtors. Upon this account he had had the whole, or at leaſt the greateſt part of the Honour of the Treaty, if the People had found any thing in it to their advantage: But 'twas ſo far from that, that all Perſons regreted ſecretly, and even pub⯑lickly [181] all the Reſtitutions that the King oblig'd himſelf to in that Treaty, as much as if they had been to part with their own Eſtates. It muſt be own'd that this fancy was in ſome meaſure fooliſh; for, beſides that his Majeſty knew a great deal bet⯑ter than they what was convenient for him, and his Kingdom; according to all the meaſures of good Senſe, they ought to have deſir'd nothing more than an end of the War, in order to prevent their being expos'd to the Evils they muſt of neceſſity undergo, as long as it ſhould continue. But, as People do not always act conformably to Reaſon, ſo they made with Reluctancy the very Fire-works, that they were commanded to make, purſuant to the uſual Cuſtom upon all ſuch Occaſions. Inſo⯑much that the Commiſſaries of the Wards were oblig'd to back their Injunctions with the Penalty of a large Fine; and without that they would never have agreed to it. However, even that did not ſcare 'em from cenſuring all that had been conclu⯑ded upon. To this purpoſe they handed about a pretty pleaſant Story, which ſhew [...]d how little they were ſatisfied with Monſieur Harlai That Magi⯑ſtrate had a Son that was as Foppiſh as his Father was Grave; for in earneſt, the Father reſembled the two Courtiers of whom Monſieur de la Feuillade ſaid, That when his Majeſty had a mind to drink his Liquor cool, his Cup-bearers needed only to cool the Bottles by placing 'em between theſe two. This Son, I ſay, was ſo far from reſembling his Father, that he had always acted up to the Chara⯑cter I here give him. He was at Ryſwick when the Affairs of that Negotiation were brought to a Con⯑cluſion; but neither the Solemnity of the place, nor his Father's Character could make him wiſer than uſually. However, Monſieur Harlai having ſent him to the King with the News of the ſigning of the Treaty, he ſtay [...]d ſo long by the way, that the News were known at Court thirty Hours before [182] his Arrival. This ſlowneſs did not become a young Man, eſpecially one of ſo much Fire, who us'd always to walk like Lightning. Upon which ac⯑count the World was amus'd with it, but at laſt they began to ſay, That they ought not to think it ſtrange, ſince for certain the Father was con⯑founded with the Son; that it was the Son that had made the Treaty, as appear'd from his Impati⯑ence in ſigning it, notwithſtanding the prejudice it did to the King and the State; and that 'twas the Father who brought the News to Court, which was equally manifeſt from the tediouſneſs he ſhew'd up⯑on the Road, for fear of wounding his Gravity. The principal foundation of this Raillery was, that the Spaniards were ſo mortify'd by the taking of Barcelona, that they ſought for a Peace at any rate; and that whatever Propoſal the French Plenipoten⯑tiaries ſhould have made after an Action of that im⯑portance, the Spaniards would have agreed to it, and conſented that the King ſhould retain Luxemburg as an equivalent for that place, if the Plenipotentia⯑ries had been ſo wiſe, as to take the advantage of the Conſternation they were in.

Though the People by this Conduct ſeem'd to controul the King's Actions, yet his Majeſty was not ill pleas'd to find 'em of that mind. For as it was a Mark of their Folly, ſo it ſhew'd their con⯑cern for his Majeſty's Intereſt. Whatever was in it, they ſcarce had the ſenſe to obſerve that neither Monſieur Harlai, nor any of his Collegues, had done any thing without the King's Orders. But we muſt not pretend that that ſort of Cattle are ever govern'd by Reaſon; Capricio and Humour is the ordinary Standard and Rule of their Thoughts. In effect, thoſe who but two Months before cry'd out for a Peace with all the Paſſion imaginable, had no ſooner got it, but they wiſh'd the War had con⯑tinued. Their Reaſon was this: Inſtead of leſſening the Prices of things which had been very dear for [183] ſome time, by reaſon of the preceeding bad Sea⯑ſons, they ſaw the Markets ſtill riſing; beſides, that the Wrath of God was ſeen in the Barrenneſs of the Earth, we may attribute this Affliction to another Cauſe, occaſion'd by the War. The King had been oblig'd to Re-coin the Money twice, that it might ſerve inſtead of an Edict. Indeed he had got con⯑ſiderably by this Project, for he rais'd the Louis-d'ors to 14 Livres, and the Silver Crowns to 3 Livres 12 Sous, though the one was not commonly worth above 11 Livres, and the other three▪ Now the King for ſome Politick Conſiderations keeping up the Denomination of the Money, it came to paſs, that what they us'd to have at eaſy Rates from Fo⯑reign Countries prov'd very dear, by reaſon of the loſs of the Exchange, which was a full ſixth part.

The Prince of Conti did not trouble his Head with theſe matters. He thought upon nothing, but either ſeeing the effect of the Cardinal Primate's Promiſes, or returning to ſee his Miſtreſs. His Eminence had retir'd to the Caſtle of Cowits, where his Partiſans aſſembled ſeveral times to no purpoſe. Many of 'em complained that Abbot Polignac had fed 'em with the hopes of things that were not like to be put in Execution. He had gone ſo far, as to pro⯑miſe that they ſhould not want either the Money, or the Troops of France; for that being the only Affair that he minded, he wiſh'd that the King, in like manner, might have nothing elſe to mind. The Duke of Saxony finding that they began to complain of that Miniſter, caus [...]d a Body of German Troops to enter the Country. This put thoſe, who were moſt expos'd, into a Conſternation; and ſome of 'em making ſome advances towards the making of their Peace with the Duke, the Prince no ſooner receiv'd the News, but he reſolv'd to return to France; but at the ſame time, to make the City of Dantzick repent of their giving his Rival the Prefe⯑rence, [184] he order'd Bart to ſeize ſome of their Ships that lay juſt by him. They had anchor'd in the Road, with a deſign to ſail up to the Port with their Car⯑goes; but Bart obliging them to follow him, car⯑ry'd 'em to Copenhagen, where the Prince was forc'd to put in by ſtreſs of Weather. At the ſame time, the King ſtopp'd all the Dantzick Ships in his Har⯑bors, which makes it probable, that the Prince of Conti's Orders to Bart, did not come ſo much from himſelf as from the King. The Prince who had been very uneaſy in his Voyage, was more ſo when he came to Copenhagen, notwithſtanding that the King of Denmark ſhew'd a particular Eſteem for his Perſon. He ſet a part a great num⯑ber of Houſes for the Prince and his Retinue, and the Wind continuing contrary for ſome Days, that little time ſeem'd ſo long to that Prince, that I doubt if the ſix Years, that according to the Eng⯑liſh Hiſtorians, one of their Kings ſpent in Ireland, before he could find a favourable minute to return to London: I doubt, I ſay, Whether theſe ſix Years were longer to that King, than thoſe few Days were to the Prince? The occaſion of his uneaſi⯑neſs was, that he was ſtill in Love, and that all the Comfort he had, was to wait for the Poſt⯑days, that he might hear from the Party he lov'd.

The Dantzickers made what Repriſals they could; they arreſted the French Merchants at Dantzick, and ſeiz'd their Effects. But after all, they knew very well that 'twas not proper for them to Quarrel with a King, that the greateſt part of the Forces of Europe had in vain attempted to bring down; and upon that view they had recourſe to the King of Denmark's Mediation to procure the releaſing of their Ships. The King made 'em ſtay ſome time before he grant⯑ed their Requeſt; but at laſt, believing that the Mortification he had given 'em, was ſufficient to make 'em remember it, he accommodated the mat⯑ter [185] to their Satisfaction. Abbot Polignac was aſto⯑niſh'd at the Prince's Return, and the Conduct of a great many, who after ſiding with his Party, be⯑gan to Deſert him. At the ſame time notice was given to him from the Duke of Saxony, that he ought to retire with Expedition out of the Country, or if he did not, that he could not anſwer for the Security of his Perſon. The Abbot did not think it his Duty to wait for a ſecond Meſſage, but ſet out incognito without any Retinue, and order'd his Equipage to make towards the Sea, in order to Im⯑barque there as well as himſelf; but they were robb'd before they could reach the Ships that ſtay'd for 'em. The Abbot did not know, whether the Court which had given him no Orders for his Re⯑treat, would be pleas'd with it; and therefore he ſtay'd ſome time at Hamburg to know the Orders of the Court. He wrote to the Marquiſs of Torcy, Se⯑cretary of State for Foreign Affairs, but receiv'd no Anſwer; and having complain'd of this to his Friends in that Country, their Anſwer was not ve⯑ry ſatisfactory. They told him, That the Court was very Angry with him, and that the Cardinal Prima [...]e did not ceaſe to do him diſſervices. In earneſt, his Eminence wrote a great many things to France to his prejudice; he even inſinuated that he had applied to his own uſe part of the Money ſent him on the Prince of Conti's behalf. 'Tis believ'd that this Accuſation was falſe, and that 'twas only the Cardinal's chagrin upon ſeeing himſelf aban⯑don'd that made him ſpeak in that faſhion. 'Tis true, the Abbot was Poor, and that ſome time before he was reduc'd to ſuch Straits that his Family would have wanted the Neceſſaries of Life, if he had not found Friends to aſſiſt him. The Cardinal who knew his Straits, and likewiſe knew that ſome time after he had paid his Debts', probably grounded his Charge upon that Circumſtance. But let it be as it will; though a Man be never ſo Innocent; 'tis a [186] great Misfortune to lie under an Accuſation. The Court ſent him Orders to retire to an Abby he had in Normandy; whether it was that they credited the Accuſation, or, which is more likely, that they mean'd to make him anſwerable for the event.

The Duke of Saxony having thus unhing'd his Competitor, thought he wanted nothing to com⯑pleat his good Fortune, but the Pope's Favour. As ſoon as he was proclaim'd King, he had ſent an Envoy to ſollicite his Holineſs to favour his Intereſt. But as that Court moves but ſlowly, eſpe⯑cially when there's any thing of Religion in the caſe; ſo his Holineſs would not grant Audience to the Envoy, till he was fully aſſur'd that that Duke had abjur'd Lutheraniſm. A Certificate of the Abjuration was brought to him, but he ſuſpected it mightily. It came only from the Hands of a Biſhop of his Family, who might be ſuſpected to be gain'd by that Prince, becauſe their common Grandeur was concern'd upon that occaſion. The Duke having never entertain'd any Correſpondence with that Court, was not throughly vers'd in their Politicks, and was ſo far from ſeeing through the true Spring of his Holineſs's Motions, that he ima⯑gin'd the Pope to be in the Prince of Conti's Inte⯑reſt. Accordingly, as ſoon as the Prince return'd to France, he ſent a ſecond Envoy to the Pope to re⯑preſent to his Holineſs, that he needed not to con⯑tinue any longer in the Intereſt of a Prince, who by his Retreat had given ſufficient evidence, that he had drop'd his Pretenſions to the Crown. In the mean time, the Pope was far from being biaſs'd that way. Had he been oblig'd to ſide with one or t'other; he had not ſcrupl'd to fall in with the Duke. He was an Italian, i. e. no great Friend to French-men; beſides, he was by Birth, a Subject of the King of Spain, which Quality did not allow him to depart from the Sentiments of the Houſe of [187] Auſtria. However, being Head of the Catholick Church, and upon that ſcore oblig'd to obſerve Meaſures on all hands, he ſent Orders to his Nuncio at Cologn to go for that Country. He or⯑der'd him, under the pretence of promoting the Intereſt of Religion, to reconcile the Cardinal Pri⯑mate and the Duke. The Cardinal ſhew'd all along a violent Reſolution to raiſe a Civil War, rather than be without Satisfaction for the Affront offer'd him by the Biſhop of Cujavia, by Crowning the Duke. He alledg'd, and juſtly indeed, That the right of Coronation was lodg'd in the Church of Gneſne, of which he was Archbiſhop. The Pope had another Nuncio already upon the ſpot, who of his own head did not fail to anticipate the Orders given to this. For he knew very well that whatever he did for the Intereſt of the Houſe of Auſtria, would be approv'd by his Holineſs; and accordingly had privately embarqu'd in the Duke's Party.

Some time being ſpent in all theſe Tranſactions, the Year came to an end, which was the time al⯑loted by his Majeſty for the Concluſion of the Mar⯑riage of the Duke of Burgundy to the Princeſs of Savoy. Every day he lik'd the Propoſal better and better; and the young Princeſs had ſuch a winning way, that he lov'd her as tenderly, as if ſhe had been his own Daughter. The Duke was but weak for one of his Age, inſomuch, that though the Ce⯑remony was to be perform'd out of hand, yet he was not to enjoy her till he paſs'd 18 Years, and ſhe 14. In former times, when the Marquiſs of Louvois marry'd his eldeſt Daughter to the Duke of Rocheguyon, the Son of the Duke of Rochefoucaut, the Conſummation of the Marriage was not put ſo long off; but the Relations on both ſides made a mutual Compact, that the new-married Couple ſhould not ſee one another but once a Week, namely on Thurſdays, and that they ſhould live in Celibacy [188] without any mutual Commerce for the reſt of the Week. This made 'em always long for the arrival of the appointed Day of meeting, and inſpir'd 'em with a mutual Eagerneſs: And if all marry'd Per⯑ſons were confin'd to the ſ [...]me meaſures, perhaps they would not be ſo ſoon weary of one another, as we commonly find 'em. However, the King having regulated the matter as above, Preparations were made for celebrating the Marriage, which were expenſive to an unparallel'd degree. Nay, his Majeſty intimated that he would take it well if every body would act up to his Abi [...]ity in honour⯑ing the Feſtival. 'Twas not the literal performance of this deſire, that would have ſatisfied his Majeſty; if that had only been requir'd, the Nuptial Cere⯑monies would have been a very mean thing, for the charge of the War, and of the Taxes, that ſtill continued during its whole courſe, had ſo impove⯑riſh'd the Subjects, that they could ſcarce be poorer than they were. So that all the Courtiers, and even the Military Officers that happen'd to be then at Court, put another Conſtruction upon the matter. They knew where the Kings meaning lay; and all of 'em being ready to do any thing to pleaſe his Majeſty, ſtraiten'd themſelves to obtain that end. The charge they were at was altogether extraordi⯑nary; nay, ſome of 'em bought Cloaths that were worth more Money than the intrinſick Value of their Eſtates. I do not ſpeak by way of Amplifica⯑cation, but deliver a naked Truth; witneſs a great many Land and Sea-Officers, who laid out 5 or 600 Crowns for one Suit of Cloaths, though at the ſame time a great part of 'em were not worth 10 Crowrs a Year of Patrimonial Eſtate. Herein lies the Folly of the French; and though I am a French⯑man my ſelf, and perhaps as great a Fool as others, yet I cannot abſtain from cenſuring our common Folly.

[189] After the Concluſion of the Peace, there was ſo great a Confluence of Foreigners at Paris, that in the Suburbs of S Germains only, there was about 15 or [...]6000. This Multitude made the Lodgings ſo exceſſive dear in that place, that the Houſes which were lett at 1200 Livres during the War, were rais'd now to [...]00 Crowns. In a ſhort time, the numbe [...] of theſe Foreigners increas'd to above one half; inſomuch, that in a little time after, or about the beginning of the ſucceeding Year, they were computed to 36000 in that very Suburbs. And as they had been inform'd, that, during the War, France had not only been exhauſted of Men, but alſo of Treaſure, this being a Report ſpread abroad on purpoſe to amuſe them, and make them believe that France would be very glad to Truckle to the Will of her Enemies; they were extreamly ſurpris'd to find (at their Arrival) every thing in a different Diſpo⯑ſition to what they were made believe, while at home. They ſaw that great Town did not only abound in People, as much as ever, but that Luxury and Pleaſu [...]e were arriv'd to ſuch a degree in it, that the meaneſt Citizen was more ſplendid than the Per⯑ſons o [...] Quality in their Country. In effect, the grea⯑ter the Miſe [...]ies were in private Families, the more they endeavour [...]d to blind the World with ſumptuous Appearances. However, theſe Meaſures ſerv'd on⯑ly to augment 'em: beſides, it muſt be own'd, that the moſt part of the Women us'd this Luxury at the expence o [...] their Honour. Few or none of them but had her Gallant; and none of theſe Gallants was eſteem [...]d, but in proportion to what he laviſh [...]d upon hi [...] Miſt [...]eſs. As the War had rais [...]d a vaſt number of People, who apply [...]d themſelves to buſineſs, by which they gam'd a great deal of Money; ſo ha⯑ving c [...]me very eaſily by it, they as freely laviſh'd it. A great many, who had formerly been glad to have got Shoes to their bare Feet, did now beſtow Coaches on their Miſſes. Inſomuch, that in 7 or 8 [190] Years time, the number of Coaches was increas'd to above 2000. Gold and Azure were to be ſeen in every Family, which extreamly ſurpris'd theſe Strangers, who, before their Arrival, had heard that all Paris could not afford either Silver-Spoon or Fork, and that the King had pillag'd them of all, to ſupport the Expences of the War. It's cer⯑tain, that the War had impoveriſh'd a great many, but ſuch were to be ſeen rather in the Country, than in Paris. On the contrary, Paris had never been either ſo Rich, or ſo Magnificent, there being 160000000 Millions expended in it, only by the Par⯑ties that were form'd there ſince the War, without rec⯑koning what others might have gain'd by a thouſand different ways. For while ſome got infinitely by the Partiſans, in lending them Money upon extrava⯑gant Intereſt; others applied themſelves to the way of Victualling, or to ſome other thing, ſo that it might be juſtly alledg'd, as War had ruin'd ſome, it had rais'd others ſo prodigiouſly, that they were no more to be known for the ſame Perſons: So different were they now, from what they had been formerly. There was ſuch an infinite number of Sharpers, and ſuch like Scoundrels, who had rais'd themſelves from the very Scum of the People, to vaſt Riches, by ſucking the Blood of the poor People. This was reckon'd ſo good a Trade, that even ſome Marquiſſes apply'd themſelves to it. Thus you might have ſeen one embrace this Trade, without regarding what was ſaid, either of his own Relations, or his Wifes, who was either Grand-daughter, or Siſter, to a High Preſident. As for himſelf, there was one of his Name, a Lieutenant General in the King's Army; but as there is a difference betwixt Relations, the Lieutenant General behav'd like a Man of Quality and Merit, while he acted like a wretched Miſcre⯑ant, or at leaſt like one, who thought it no Crime to diſhonour his Name and Family. If the Strangers abovemention'd were amaz'd to find every thing at [191] Paris ſo different from the Relation they had of 'em at home, they were much more aſtoniſh'd to ſee the Solemnity of the Marriage of the Duke of Burgundy and the Princeſs at Verſailles. The Cere⯑mony was perform'd with all the Splendor imagin⯑able; they gave a great many Balls, where all the Perſons of Quality, retaining to the Court, of both Sexes, were preſent. All the Ladies were cloath'd in Black Velvet, ſet out with precious Stones, that caſt the brighteſt Luſtre imaginable: The Men were alſo adorn'd with Diamonds. As on ſuch Occaſions the Pick-pockets of Paris are very intentive upon their Buſineſs; ſo they came in whole Swarms to keep Holy-day at Verſailles, adorn'd as others were, and, abating for their Countenances, that are hardly well known in that place, one would have thought they were all Perſons of the firſt Rank. The extraordi⯑nary Crowd, as one may eaſily imagine, afforded them ſufficient opportunity to make up, with conſi⯑derable advantage, the Expence of their Ornaments. A great many, after their return home, found at their leaſure that the Diamonds they had carried to the Solemnity were gone. The Rogues had ta⯑ken from ſome one, from others two, and ſo more or leſs; and they might repute themſelves happy, who came off free. Even the Ducheſs of Burgundy did not eſcape the common Fate of thoſe, who had ſuffer'd by theſe Pick-pockets. They ventur'd to cut away a part of her Gown, where ſhe had a large Buckle of Diamonds. But, what is ſurprizing, the Chevalier of Sully had the ſame fate, and what he loſt, was by the hand of a Perſon of the firſt Quality: He catch'd him in the fact, and took the liberty to tell it to one of his Friends. His Majeſty over-heard it, and deſir'd to be further inform'd of the matter, but was extreamly aſtoniſh'd, when they whiſper'd to him the Name of this young Pick-pocket; he forbid to Challenge him upon it, being willing to ſave his Honour, for the Reſpect [192] he had for his Relations; however his Charity ſerv'd to no purpoſe, for not only all the Court knew the Secret, but alſo all Paris.

Upon the Marriage-day, the new married Couple were put to Bed; but the Curtains being undrawn, there were a great many Witneſſes of their Actions, only in order to ſee if they lay cloſe to one another. The King, to give them a ſufficient opportunity, caus'd draw the Curtains, while the Duke of Beauvil⯑liers, and the other Officers of the young Prince, ſtood juſt by to over-hear what might paſs; but no⯑thing having paſs'd, they ſoon undrew the Curtains. That young Princeſs kept Aſſemblies the ſame day, and the following days. Her Court was very throng, and the Ladies ſtrove who ſhould ſhew her moſt Reſpect. There happen'd a difference betwixt the Princeſs of Har [...]ourt, and the young Ducheſs of Sully, Daughter to the Duke of Coaiſlin: She was Niece to the Ducheſs's Lude, Lady of Honour to the Princeſs. This Relation came by her Husband, who was the Ducheſs, or Brother's Son; ſhe want⯑ed her Aſſiſtance in regard of her Youth, not being in Condition to enter the Liſts with a Princeſs, whoſe only buſineſs had been (ſince ſhe was in the World) to ingratiate her ſelf with all in Power, from the higheſt to the loweſt Miniſter. But in⯑ſtead of the Aſſiſtance ſhe expected from her, the Aunt advis'd her to yield to her Adverſary. All the Ducheſſes were highly incenſed againſt the Ducheſs of Lude; finding ſhe had tarniſh'd their Honour by ſo ſcandalous an Advice. In effect, though ſuch ſort of Diſputes had often fallen out, not only betwixt the Princeſſes and the Ducheſſes, but even betwixt their Husbands; yet, perhaps ſuch another as this had never fallen out before. The Dukes and Ducheſſes had always maintain'd their Rank, as if St. Louis had begot them. The late Duke of Mon⯑tauzier, and the late Ducheſs of N [...]lles, ſtretch'd the Affair yet further; the one againſt Monſieur Le [193] Grand, a Prince of the Houſe of Lorrain, and the other againſt the Ducheſs of Bouillon. Though the Ducheſs of Noailles, was only the Daughter of a Farmer of the Revenues; yet ſhe was ſenſible that in France, Nobility came not by the Wives, but by the Husbands; ſhe ſhelter'd her ſelf from any Indig⯑nity by the Character of her Husband, whom ſhe took to be beyond Reproach. However it ordina⯑rily falls out in a Difference betwixt two Parties, that they upbraid one another, even to the five hundreth Generation. The Ducheſs of Bouillon produc'd Re⯑cords, by which ſhe made it appear, that Anthony of Noailles had been formerly Maſter of the Houſhold to one of her Husband's Anceſtors. In fine, this Affair enrag'd the Parties to that degree, that they call'd one another all the Ill Names they could think on. His Majeſty was at laſt oblig'd to impoſe Si⯑lence by his Authority; he forbad them expreſly to proceed farther, without deciding any thing in the matter, that caus'd their heats. I do not know, if the Ducheſs of Lude was afraid of theſe Ill Names in doing what ſhe had done, or if ſhe thought, be⯑cauſe the King had given the Preference to the Dukes before the Princes of the Houſe of Lorrain, the laſt time he made a Promotion of Knights of the Order, that therefore it ought to be the ſame in re⯑gard of the Women, but it paſs'd after the manner I have told you.

Though the Peace had been made a pretty while, yet none hitherto reap'd the Fruits of it. The Commerce was as dead as in the time of War; whether it was attributed to the high value of the French Coin, that continued ſtill at the ſame Rate, or that the King believ'd he could ſubſiſt without other Nations, while others muſt have recourſe to him, there was yet no advance made to make it flouriſh. In the mean time, there came ſome Ships from England and Holland, to take in Wine and Pa⯑per at Bourdeaux and Rouen. They bought along [194] other Merchandize to be ſold there. But the Tariff not being yet regulated between all the Parties, and the Treaty of Ryſwick having only mention'd, that it ſhould be put upon the ſame foot as it was in the Years 1665 and 1666, which was not yet done; this together with the loſs of twenty in the hundred by the Money, oblig'd theſe Ships to return with⯑out either ſelling or buying any thing in theſe Ports. About the ſame time, the States-General ſent Deputies to the King, to demand the Execution of that Article. They apply'd themſelves to the Mar⯑quiſs of Torcy, Secretary for Foreign Affairs, but Monſieur Ponchartrain having the Charge of that Commerce, they were remitted to him for the Ex⯑ecution of their Demands. Theſe Deputies were ex⯑ceedingly well vers'd in Affairs of that nature, and the States having an intire Confidence in them, had given them a Full Power to Act as Commiſſaries in the Regulation of the Tariff. Monſieur Pontchar⯑train heard them upon the Matter, but being Judi⯑cious and Politick, he put them off with fair Words, until he had acquainted the King with the Affair. The Commerce of Holland was of far leſs advantage to France, than that of England, becauſe they draw a great deal more Money from the one than from the other. In effect, the Hollanders Import more Merchandize into France than they Export; whereas England on the contrary Exports more than they Import. So that the firſt carries out the Coin, and the other brings it in. This made them reſolve to keep up the Tariff as high as poſſi⯑ble, in regard of the Holland-Trade, its Impoſts or Cuſtoms, while they deſign'd to lower it in re⯑gard of the Engliſh; while they expected the Hollan⯑ders ſhould come to Paris to terminate that Affair, they reſolv'd to ſend to London to regulate what re⯑garded that Nation. Ponchartrain pitch'd upon Mon⯑ſieur Phelipe [...]ux D'Herbeaut, his Relation, for that purpoſe; he was firſt Commiſſary of the Marine, [195] under Monſieur de Maurepas, who had left him the whole Managment of it. He had the Character of Commiſſary-General for regulating the Commerce betwixt the two Nations; but though his Commiſ⯑ſion was preſently diſpatch'd, yet he ſtay'd a long time after. In the mean time, the Court nam'd other Commiſſaries to treat with the Hollanders, but as they had no deſign to terminate the Affair to their Satisfaction, ſo it continues to this day at the ſame paſs.

While theſe matters were a tranſacting, the King nam'd Ambaſſadors to go to all the Foreign Courts; and inſtead of ſending Gentlemen of the Law, as had been always practic'd in France, he employ'd Perſons of Quality, or Officers of the Army. He thought, if they could joyn the Knowledge of the Cabinet to the Experience they had acquir'd in war⯑like Affairs, they would be more accompliſh'd for his Service upon all occaſions. He choſe the Mar⯑quiſs of Villars, Lieutenant-General of the Army, for the Court of Vienna; and the Marquiſs of Har⯑court, alſo a Lieutenant-General, for his Ambaſſador to Spain, who during the War, had acquir'd a Repu⯑tation equal to any; and could he perform the ſame thing in his Embaſſy, which he had done at the Head of a Flying Army, no more could be expect⯑ed of him; but that being a hard Task, his Friends could hardly hope for it. He was going to a Court, where the very name of French is ſuſpected, much more at a time, when he ſeem'd very earneſt to create all the Obſtacles imaginable to the Emperor's Deſigns of bringing the Succeſſion of his Catholick Majeſty to fall upon the King of the Romans, his eldeſt Son, or that failing, upon the Arch-Duke, his ſecond Son. Philip IV. his preſent Majeſty's Father, had left it by Teſtament, to the laſt, tho' he was not Born at that time; but the Spaniards ſhew⯑ing no Inclination to execute it, his Imperi [...]l Majeſty labour'd to engage them to favour the King of the [196] Romans. He thought, that being his eldeſt Son, he not only deſerv'd better that Dignity, which was much more ſolid than that of Emperor, though not altogether ſo ſplendid; but he expected alſo to ſecure the Fortune of his Son the better, if he could unite theſe two Qualities in one Perſon. The Queen of Spain being his Siſter-in-law, he did not doubt of her favouring his Deſign; and the Count of Harrach, his Ambaſſador at that Court, had a Commiſſion to propoſe it to her. The Queen join'd Iſſue with the Ambaſſador in all his Sentiments; and his Imperial Majeſty being hitherto ſo proſperous in his Deſigns, as to get the Queen's Creatures into his Catholick Majeſty's Council, and ſhe being very induſtrious to gain the other Members, they met often to conſi⯑der how to behave in the Scene they were to Act. The Count of Harrach inſinuated to the Queen and them, that the beſt Method they could fall upon in this Juncture, was, to put the Government of the Frontiers into German-hands, or into the Hands of Perſons well-affected to the Emperor. The Prince of Darmſtadt, who ſignaliz'd himſelf in the Defence of Barcelona, was propos'd to be Vice-Roy of Cata⯑lonia; Don Franciſco de Velaſco, having rendred himſelf unworthy of that Command, by ſuffering himſelf to be ſurpriz'd in his Camp. The Government of Milan ſeem'd too good to eſcape one of his Imperial Majeſty's Creatures, as did alſo the Vice-Royalty of Navarre; for the Count of Harrach ſuppos'd very reaſonably that it was by attacking of one of theſe three places, if not all the three at once, that the King of France meant to make good his Preten⯑ſions to the Spaniſh Succeſſion, immediately after the Death of that Monarch. The Queen, and thoſe of the King's Council, who were in her Intereſt, found it difficult to manage that point; for though the Spaniards were too wiſe to own their Sentiments openly, yet they had not the leaſt Inclination to own either the Emperor's eldeſt or youngeſt Son, [197] for their Soveraign. They were alſo of the ſame Opinion in regard of the Dauphin and his Sons; though ſome of the French Emiſſaries endeavour'd to inſinuate to them ſecretly, that if they would chuſe either the Duke of Anjou, or the Duke of Berry, they could form their tender Years according to their own Model, inſomuch that it would be impoſſible for them to perceive they had ever been born French-men. And by theſe means they labour'd to extirpate the Antipathy, that was natural to the two Nations; but that being a hard Point to ma⯑nage, they always rejected it with ſcorn. They could never conceive why they would deprive the Prince of Bavaria of that Succeſſion, for it was naturally his Right, after the Renunciation his Moſt Chriſtian Majeſty had made of it, when he married the Infanta of Spain. Others wiſh'd, ſince the King had no Heirs begot of his own Body, the Crown might fall to ſome Grandee of Spain. They be⯑liev'd they ſhould be more happy under ſuch a Perſon, than under any Foreign Prince. For ſuch a one being train'd up from his Cradle in their Cu⯑ſtoms and Manners, they could bear more eaſily with him than with any other. For, generally, all Men inherit the Genius of the Country, where they are Born, and it is hard for them ever to change their natural Inclination.

Such was the Diſpoſition of the Affairs of that Nation, when the Queen of Spain made uſe of all her Intereſt to have the Prince of Darmſtadt made Vice-Roy of Catalonia, Prince Vaudemont Governor of Milan, and Prince Eugene of Savoy Vice-Roy of Navarre. For ſhe not only look'd upon them as well-affected to the Emperor, but alſo very capable to defend againſt the French, the Places committed to their care. They had diſtinguiſh'd themſelves upon a thouſand occaſions; and Prince Eugene was actually employ'd againſt the Turks, with whom the Emperor was in continual War. That Barba⯑rous [198] Nation ow'd its Preſervation only to the Di⯑verſion, was made upon the Rhine, when his Impe⯑rial Majeſty was engag'd againſt France. But now the Peace being concluded betwixt theſe two Po⯑tentates, the Emperor thought of no leſs than ſwal⯑lowing up the Turks in a Campaign or two at moſt, and diſlodging 'em of all their Poſſeſſions in Europe. But whether that Prince meant to take his eaſe after ſo tedious a War, or, what is more likely, that true Policy oblig'd him to deſire a Peace, there were already ſome Propoſals made, that had a favourable hearing from both Parties, and per⯑haps without that Prince Eugene, who about this time ſaw himſelf at the Head of the Emperor's Army, would hardly accept of the Office of Vice-Roy of Navarre. But now finding himſelf oblig'd to put up the Sword, he was glad, that by the Emperor's Influence, the Queen of Spain had that Deference for him. However, her ſucceſs in that was not ſo fa⯑vourable as it was on the behalf of the Princes of Darmſtadt and Vaud [...]mont. For the Services of the firſt at Barcelona pleading highly in his Favour, ſhe carried it for him without any Oppoſition; but ſhe met with more difficulty in regard of the Go⯑vernment of Milan. Some would have it continued to the Marquiſs of Leganez, who was there alrea⯑dy, or conferr'd upon ſome Grandee of Spain; but that was far from the Queen's mind; ſhe meant rather to ſtrip them of what they poſſeſs'd than provide them with new Governments. The Duke of Medina Celi, one of the moſt conſiderable Gran⯑dees of Spain, and moſt belov'd of the People, was Vice-Roy of Naples. He had paſs'd ſome years in that Employ, and places of that nature are uſually triennial in Spain; yet ſhe would gladly have it conferr'd upon one of her Creatures, but her Friends thought it not convenient, and rather ad⯑vis'd her to the contrary to continue it to him; and gave for their reaſon, that ſhe ought to be very [199] cautious in bringing him to Spain in the preſent Po⯑ſture of Affairs; which would not fail to awake the People's Affection for him, and conſequent⯑ly to make ſome Obſtacles to the Emperor's De⯑ſigns.

The Reaſons which oblig'd the Emperor to ſtrike up a Peace with the Port, were theſe. His Power became formidable, not only to the Princes of the Empire, but even to his other Allies. Beſides, knowing his Pretenſions to the Succeſſion of Spain, they not only oppos'd it privately, but even avow⯑edly. The Princes who granted him Succors againſt the Turks, ſpoke of withdrawing them. The New King of England, before he was own'd by France, offer'd his Mediation for agreeing the Parties. He had ſent two Ambaſſadors to the Port on purpoſe, to propoſe it to the Grand Seignior; but they both died upon their way thither. This appearing very extraordinary, becauſe the Sultan's Intereſt ſeem'd altogether oppoſite to his Conduct; and, beſides the Death of theſe two Perſons affording matter of Speculation upon a great many things, ſome be⯑liev'd aſſuredly they had been poyſon'd. This might have diſcourag'd his Britannick Majeſty from ſending any more Ambaſſadors into that Country; but conſidering that the Turks their rejecting of the Peace, was only grounded upon the Diverſion was made in their favour, and that poſſibly they would lay aſide their Obſtinacy, when convinc'd of their Error, he aſſum'd his firſt Reſolution, nor was he in the leaſt deceiv'd; for the Grand Seignior accepted of his offer now with as much warmth, as he had rejected it before with indifference. He accepted of his Mediation, and the States-General's, which was offer'd to him at the ſame time. And being ſatis⯑fied that in the Peace they had made with France, they had eaſily ſurmounted all the Difficulties that commonly attend the Preliminaries of Treaties, they mean'd to follow the ſame Method in this. [200] The Emperor underſtanding, that the Turks had accepted of the Mediation that was offer'd 'em, gave notice of it to the Potentates, who were in⯑tereſted with him in the War; namely, the Repub⯑licks of Venice and Poland, and the Great Duke of Muſcovy. They were mutually ingag'd in an Offen⯑ſive and Defenſive League; ſo he being reſolv'd to do nothing without their Conſent, deſir'd them to give in their Pretenſions in Writing, while the Parties ſhould have condeſcended upon the place of aſſembling. For his own part, he put in his, which he did not expect would be granted, becauſe the Jealouſy the Mediators, as well as other Princes had of his Power, oblig'd him to make an end of theſe Dif⯑ferences. He pretended that the Turks, by the Teeaty that was on foot, ought to be oblig'd to give him up Belgrade and Temeſwaer, with all the Right of Soveraignty, that he poſſeſs'd in Tranſilvania. At the bottom, theſe People thought themſelves very happy, that the Emperor would conſent to a Peace upon ſo reaſonable Terms; but how⯑ever Barbarous they are, they are truly Politick, and no ſooner perceiv'd that the Mediators, as well as they, were glad to oblige him to lay down his Arms, but they refus'd to conſent to theſe Terms.

The Republicks of Venice and Poland, and the Great Duke of Muſ [...]vy, fearing that Prince would have made the Peace without them, ſent Miniſters to Vienna to pry into the Affairs there. The Czar ſent thither his own General, while himſelf reſolv'd to paſs into Holland and England, to eſtabliſh a more ſolid Commerce in theſe Countries than had hi⯑therto been done. He look'd upon himſelf as one of the moſt powerful Princes of Chriſtendom, in re⯑gard of the vaſt extent of his Dominions; but being ignorant how to improve ſo great a Power to the beſt advantage, he was little more eſteem'd than the Prince of Courland. He no ſooner thought of [201] his Reſolution, then he put it in Execution. He took his Road through the Marquiſs of Brandenburg's Dominions, who receiv'd him with all the Reſpect due to his Perſon; from thence having paſs'd into Holland, he continued there ſome time, applying himſelf diligently to the knowledge of their Com⯑merce and Policy. In effect, ſeeing their State much more flouriſhing than could have been thought, in proportion to their Extent, he eaſily conceiv'd it was only owing to their Prudence and Conduct; and being thereby the more induc'd to imitate them, he entred into a new Treaty of Commerce with them, and bought ſome Ships of them. After⯑wards he paſs'd into England, and having acquain⯑ted the King that he had Affairs to propoſe to him, his Majeſty appointed Commiſſioners to hear them.

While the New King triumph'd after this manner, either upon the account of the advantageous Peace he gave to Europe, or the great Confidence his Al⯑lies had in him, or the Conſideration they had for him, inſomuch that nothing could be enterpriz'd without his Approbation; the Pope's Nuncio, whom he had ſent into Poland, after he had conferr'd with the Ordinary Nuncio at that Court, and been in⯑form'd by him of the State of Affairs in that Coun⯑try, ſignify'd to his Poliſh Majeſty, that his Holi⯑neſs was not ſo averſe to his Election, as he ſup⯑poſed; that the main thing in queſtion was, whether his Converſion had been ſincere; and provided that Point was clear'd, the Holy Father would be fully ſatisfied. God alone was capable to know it: there being none beſides, who can ſearch hearts: However, in all outward appearance, this Prince would have the World convinc'd, he was a good Catholick. At leaſt he perform'd all the Duties of a true Catholick, and omitted nothing to confirm the People in the belief of his Sincerity. The Nuncio being ſenſible of what conſiderable Advantage the [202] Pope's Conſent would be to him, for gaining to him theſe Perſons that continued ſtill in his Enemy's Party, upon a ſuſpicion that his Converſion was only feigned, and being apprehenſive that as ſoon as he were peaceably eſtabliſh'd on his Throne, he would return to his Vomit: I ſay, The Nuncio, who underſtood how neceſſary his Holineſs was to him, like a cunning Politician, mean'd to make the beſt uſe of this opportunity; and therefore, before he would aſſure him altogether of the Apoſtolick Fa⯑vour, he repreſented to him, that it was impoſſible for him to perſwade all Europe of the Sincerity of his Converſion any other way, than by teſtifying, as a new Convert, the profound Reſpect he had for his Holineſs; that ſince all who profeſs'd that Re⯑ligion owed an intire Obedience in Holy Matters to the Apoſtolick See, he wiſh'd his Majeſty would not only renounce certain Privileges that the Kings of Poland pretended to as their Right, but alſo diſmiſs all the Lutheran Miniſters that fol⯑lowed him; without uſing that pretext for retain⯑ing them, that he had a great many of that Reli⯑gion along with him. He alſo propoſed many other things of the like nature; a plain evidence, that the Court of Rome never neglects any Ad⯑vantage they can catch. Upon theſe Conditions he offer'd to imploy all his Intereſt with the Car⯑dinal Regent, to pacify the Commotions of the Kingdom, putting him in hopes that the Reſpect he had for the Perſon who ſent him, would oblige the Cardinal to accept of the Terms he deſign [...]d to pro⯑poſe to him.

The King of Poland being ſenſible, how capable the Cardinal's Party was to annoy him; beſides, that new Commotions were ariſing in Lithuania, which was all up in Arms to ſupport two Parties that made War againſt one another, to wit, Prince Sapieha, General of the Troops of that Duchy, and the Sieur Oginski, Great Enſign of it, a Dignity [203] of a diſtinguiſhing Importance in that Country; I ſay, The King of Poland being afraid that this Quar⯑rel, which ſeem'd to proceed from Jealouſy, was only a pretence to reverſe his Election, promis'd to the Nuncio all he deſir'd. However, he deſir'd to be excus'd from ſigning any thing touching the Pri⯑vileges he would have him to renounce, until he were better inform'd in what they conſiſted, and had the Advice of the Republick, without whoſe Approbation he could not handſomely conclude any matter of that importance. The Nuncio could not well diſapprove of this Objection that appear'd ſo reaſonable. He went to Lowits to confer with the Cardinal Primate, whom he found ſo enrag'd againſt his Poliſh Majeſty, for protecting ſo avowed⯑ly the Biſhop of Cujavia, his mortal Enemy, that he almoſt deſpair'd of ever ſucceeding in an Affair he had promis'd ſo confidently to bring about. But as the Italians are cunning Politicians, qualify'd with a deal of Patience, he gain'd by degrees upon his Eminence's Paſſion. He gave him to know, that the Prince could not have acted other ways than he had done hitherto; for as much as that Biſhop had been all along the Soul of his Par⯑ty; that he agreed with him, in thinking, that he had reaſon to reſent the Actions of that Prelate, who had incroach'd upon his Privileges; that after all, he ought to conſider, that it was not in his Power to hinder what was done, nor ſo much as revenge it by force; that his Party, who fell off daily, was in no Capacity to enterprize any thing againſt his Enemy, who was ſupported by his Poliſh Majeſty and his Troops; that France, by whoſe means he had hoped to triumph over him, never pretended to concern themſelves any further in the Quarrel, having formerly declared ſo much to his Holineſs by their Ambaſſador; ſo he would find him⯑ſelf certainly miſtaken if he [...]aid any ſtreſs upon them.

[204] The Cardinal Primate was much ſurpriz'd to hear the Nuncio ſpeak after that manner; not queſtioning, in the leaſt, the truth of this Declaration, he ſent immediately one of his Creatures to his Moſt Chriſtian Majeſty, to aſſure him that his Party was not yet re⯑duc'd ſo very low, but they were in a condition to foil their Enemies, if his Majeſty would give them a very ſmall Aſſiſtance. The Prince of Conti, who was no more in the humour to return to that Coun⯑try, and indeed never was, when left to his choice, gave his Majeſty ſo very bad an Impreſſion of the ſordid Avarice of the Poles, that he was little leſs than enrag'd at the Arrival of this new Envoy. He thought the Cardinal Primate ask'd him Succours, on⯑ly to make his own Terms the better. So he ſent back his Envoy with Letters, ſignifying what he had already declared to the Pope, namely, That he would concern himſelf no more in the matter. His Emi⯑nence was too happy in making uſe of the Cardinal Nuncio to interceed for him with his Poliſh Majeſty. There was a Treaty made between the Parties, by which the Cardinal Primate promis'd on his own be⯑half, and in behalf of his Party, to own that Prince for their Soveraign. The King of Poland, for his part, promis'd to give him ſome Satisfaction upon the Biſhop of Cujavia's Account. By this Treaty there was alſo an Authentick Proviſion made for the Injury done to the Cardinal Primate's Dignity, by the boldneſs of that Prelate in Proclaiming and Crowning the King after his Election. It was alſo agreed upon by this Treaty, That the Nation ſhould never lay down their Arms, until they had oblig'd the Turks to reſtore Caminieck and Podolia. For it was alledg'd, That if the late King of Poland had been cordial in the War againſt the Turks, he might have recover'd it; but he who had ſav'd Chriſtendom by the ſeaſonable Succours he brought to Vienna, which had he only delay'd three Days longer, all had been loſt without Remedy, became ſo lazy in [205] what concern'd the Republick, that one would have thought he had loſt his Senſes. However, by this Treaty they oblig'd the new King to carry on the Siege at his own Expences, and upon theſe Condi⯑tions they condeſcended he ſhould keep his Troops in the Country, though formerly they murmur'd extreamly for that theſe Troops had enter'd the Kingdom contrary to their Laws and Cuſtoms. And even from that Subject took occaſion to exclaim highly againſt him, as if he had entred the Nation by force, and mean'd to ſecure it by Conqueſt, ra⯑ther than by lawful means.

After the Concluſion of this Treaty, the Cardi⯑nal Primate went from Lowits to pay his Homage to the King at Warſaw. His Majeſty ſent the prin⯑cipal Gentlemen of his Court to meet him, and ho⯑nour his Entry, which had much more the Air of a Triumph, than what was due to the merit of a Cri⯑minal. He was accompanied into the Palace by a great many Perſons of Quality, who were over⯑joy'd to ſee this Reconciliation. The King and he had a private Interview for half an hour. It was generally believ'd, that the Troubles of the Kingdom were now at an end; and in effect, the Queen of Poland having loſt all hopes of ſeeing her Son upon the Throne, which till that time ſhe never deſpair'd of, ask'd his Majeſty's Leave to paſs ſome time at Rome. The King refus'd it before he advis'd with his Council, which was compos'd of the principal Senators of the Nation. However, they ſaw no in⯑conveniency in granting it, and gave her to know that ſhe ſhould not be hindred to depart when ſhe thought fit. Accordingly ſhe put her ſelf in a readi⯑neſs to be gone againſt the latter end of the Year. Every Perſon applauded that Princeſs's Conduct, for after all ſhe had done to hinder the Election of his Majeſty, as well as of the Prince of Conti, ſhe could hardly remain in the Kingdom with any ſatis⯑faction, nor could ſhe handſomely paſs into France, [206] where it was impoſſible for his Moſt Chriſtian Maje⯑ſty to ſee her without Indignation; yet it was generally believ'd ſhe would chuſe France for her Retreat, it being natural for People to love the place of their Nativity. For it was openly report⯑ed, That ſhe was treating with the Ducheſs of Portſmouth, and her Son, the Duke of Richmond, for the Duchy of Aubigny in Berry, which the late King Charles II. bought for that Ducheſs upon cer⯑tain Conditions, not very acceptable to her. But the King being ſenſible, that if he did not tie her up to ſuch Terms, a Woman of her Temper might be reduc'd to end her Days in an Hoſpital, was therefore glad to do her this kindneſs againſt her Inclination. He had already a Miſtris of the ſame Temper, namely, the Ducheſs of Cleaveland, who had laviſh'd away all that the King had given her. However, he beſtow'd large Sums upon the Ducheſs of Portſmouth; and ſuch was his Liberality, that he had laid out above a Million of Money for China to her. But though there be nothing harder than the Subſtance 'tis made of, ſhe found out a way to melt it all at Paris, without ſuffering any other inconvenience by it, than what ordinarily attends Miſery.

However, it was not altogether impoſſible to ac⯑commodate the Difference betwixt the Queen of Poland, and his Moſt Chriſtian Majeſty, if her P [...]liſh Majeſty would condeſcend in ſome meaſure to imitate the Count of Bi [...]lk mention'd before She might have own'd her ſelf in the wrong, and ſup⯑plicated his Majeſty for the Honour of his Prote⯑ction; but ſhe was too haughty to condeſcend to it, inſomuch, that ſhe was now wholly intent upon leaving ſpeedily a place where her Circumſtances had ſuffer'd ſo ſenſible an Alteration. For during her Husband's life-time, every one was glad to truckle to her, in regard of the Aſcendant, they knew, ſhe had over him. Now the Scene was [207] chang'd, and ſo different from the former, that every one was ready to impute to her, what was blam'd in her Husband, as if ſhe had been the only Perſon who prompted him.

The King of Poland being thus own'd by the Pope, and wanting only now to be recogniz'd by his Moſt Chriſtian Majeſty, in order to enjoy peaceably the Dignity of a Crown that had been ſo much diſpu⯑ted, ſent a Perſon of Quality to France, to excuſe the Robbery committed upon the Abbot of P [...]lignac's Equipage, and to eſtabliſh a good Correſpondence with his Majeſty; for, though in appearance he had no need of him, eſpecially, being ſo ſtrictly join'd in Alliance with the Emperor, and all the Princes his Neighbours; yet, conſidering that Kings have long Arms, eſpecially the King who governs France at this time, he would omit nothing that was due to Policy. The King receiv'd his Envoy with all the marks of Reſpect he could wiſh for, and all Parties forgeting the occaſion of their Differences, a good Intelligence and Union was eſtabliſh'd be⯑twixt the two Nations, though hardly to that degree it had been formerly. In the mean time, the King return'd to the Prince of Conti, the Money he had expended in the purſute of that Crown, which in all probability pleas'd him much more, than if he had obtain [...]d it. Not that he is Covetous in any degree, but continuing ſtill Amorous, the ſatisfa⯑ction he enjoy'd in ſeeing his Miſtriſs, rendred him inſenſible of all other pleaſures. Beſides, he was ſoon comforted for the loſs of that Dignity, by the liberal ſhare he had with the Duke of Vendome in the Dauphin's Favour, and the hopes he had of gaining his Proceſs before the Court of Parliament, as he had done formerly.

However, there happen'd an Accident to the Duke, that was like to deprive him both of that Advantage and his Life. In his return from An [...]t, a Houſe which King Henry IV. had given to the [208] Lady Jane Gabriell, of whom he was deſcended: He was like to be drown'd in a Poſt-Chaiſe, for he was up to his Chin in a little River, which he was oblig'd to paſs, and it being the middle of Winter, the Cold which he ſuffer'd, was capable to do him all the miſchief that could be expected from ſo cruel an Accident. But as he is a Noble Prince, who delights to do good, and has no Enemies; and be⯑ſides, had acquir'd a great deal of Glory before Barcelona; ſo every one was overjoy'd to ſee their Fears end more happily than they expected. It on⯑ly coſt him a fright; however, this General, who by his Conqueſt, had gain'd the Reputation of the greateſt Hero, being ſubject to a great many Infir⯑mities, as well as the Ancient Hero's, found himſelf ſo bad, that he was oblig'd to apply himſelf to Phyſicians. He had contracted a Diſeaſe that gave him more trouble, than the taking of four Barcelona's. And his trouble was ſo much the greater, that his Malady was of an old ſtanding, and created him every moment inſufferable Pains; he enjoy'd no manner of reſt, and it was to be fear'd; that if he neglected it any longer, it might be paſs'd all cure. He reſolv'd to put himſelf into the hands of a Chy⯑miſt Phyſician, nam'd Chambon. This Gentleman was nothing different from thoſe of his Kidney, that is to ſay, neither better nor worſe than a Quack, who boaſt as highly, as if they were many degrees above Aeſculapius; but if he cured four Perſons, he certainly kill'd a whole Dozen, and the Cures he had perform'd, were rather the Pro⯑duct of Chance than of Skill. He was much at one with Dr. Carette, who had but one Remedy for all manner of Diſeaſes, and yet would have Mankind believe that he was the ableſt Phyſician in the Uni⯑verſe. Be it as it will, this new Phyſician ſet him⯑ſelf up in form, becauſe he had cured ſome few Perſons in the World, and amongſt others, a cer⯑tain Abbot of Chaulieu, who was a ſort of Inten⯑dant [209] of the Houſe of Vendome. This Abbot was very deſirous that the Duke would make uſe of Chambon to cure him. However, the Duke withdrew in a ſhort while, and had no great reaſon to brag of his Phyſician's Remedies. For Chambon did nothing, and at this time, the Duke finds himſelf in little bet⯑ter Circumſtances, than when he firſt made uſe of him. It may be rather ſaid, That he is ſtill worſe, for the more inveterate theſe Diſeaſes are, they are the more difficult to be cur'd. Yet ſome will have it, that his Grand-father found the means to be cur'd after Forty Years; but that was ſcarce done by the Skill of a Chymiſt, and its probable, that if his Grand-ſon had copied him, he had apply'd him⯑ſelf to ſome other Perſon, than his Intendant's Fa⯑vourite.

The Duke of Savoy had no reaſon to complain of his Daughter's Marriage; but knowing that the King had no mind to have it conſummated, he in⯑treated his Majeſty to conſummate it, to the end his Daughter's Condition might be more ſecure. He was afraid that the Duke of Burgundy might come to die by ſome miſchance, and ſo his Daughter be return'd upon his hand. But that was far from his Majeſty's Inclination; on the contrary it was well known, if that had happen'd, he would have mar⯑ried her to the Duke of Anjou; and in view of that only, he hindred all Commerce betwixt them, to the end, that a Diſpenſation might be the more eaſily obtain'd. I can't tell, whether the King made his Deſign known to him; but it is certain, that after the Marquiſs of Ferrette had ſpoke to him by his Majeſty's Command, the Duke was not only out of all hopes, but ſhew'd no Inclination to it. However, if he could not obtain that Demand, he ſucceeded (in a ſhort time after) much better in another he made to his Majeſty. He intreated him to Baniſh Madamoſelle de Soiſſons (whoſe Conduct was offenſive to him) out of his Kingdom. He alſo [210] deſir'd of him to cauſe ſhut up Madamoiſelle de Ca⯑rignan in a Convent. The laſt ſhew'd a great deal of Complaiſance to a married Man, who lived after a very indifferent manner with his own Wife; whether it was that he had inherited that of his Fa⯑ther, who had never been a good Husband, or that the Affection he had for this Princeſs, made him peeviſh at the ſight of all others. It was much ſuſpected, that the King himſelf was the principal Author of theſe Demands, to the end that theſe two Perſons might no more be ſeen at Court, nor in Paris. Though they had the Honour to be ſo nearly related to the Ducheſs of Burgundy, yet their Behaviour was altogether unworthy of their great Quality; for beſides their Conduct, that was not very regular, they were both in extream Neceſſity, and ſo far from being in Circumſtances to ſupport a Rank ſuitable to their Birth, that they had hardly wherewith to maintain ſufficiently the Condition of very ordinary Perſons; beſides, the King was fain to ſupply them by his Royal Bounty, without which they had often wanted the very Neceſſaries of Life. The eldeſt was ſent to Bruſſels to keep Company with her Mother, who reſided there; the other was ſhut up amongſt the Carmelites in the Suburbs of St. James, with expreſs Order to the Superior of the Convent, that ſhe ſhould be permitted to ſpeak to none, but certain Ladies, whoſe Names were tranſmitted to him in Writing. Madamoiſelle de Carignan might have eaſily avoided this Indignity, if ſhe had had a mind; ſhe had been warn'd of it a long time before; and the King himſelf ſent her word, that if ſhe meant to pleaſe him, ſhe would take a Maid of Honour of his Recommendation. At that time he offered her Apartments at Verſailles, with ſufficient Maintainance for that Lady of Honour; but ſhe excus'd her ſelf, under pretence, that ſhe had one already, and that ſhe could not handſomely accept of another, without expoſing the firſt. [211] However ſincere ſhe might have been in her Ex⯑cuſe, yet in a thing capable of a double entendre, People are more ready to take them in an ill Senſe; every body believed that her Excuſe pro⯑ceeded only from the great deſire ſhe had to conti⯑nue her Intrigue. But the King having put an end to it, after the manner above related, her Gal⯑lant was to look for his Comfort where he could find it.

In all appearance he could not be ſo eaſily com⯑forted, whether he thought that his Honour was concern'd, or that he was really afflicted, as he would have the World believe; he diſplay'd his Wrath more than ever againſt his Wife, and though ſhe was reputed a Lady of intire Virtue, yet (as it was generally believ'd) he us'd often to lay hands upon her. But till that time, ſhe conceal'd very in⯑duſtriouſly what juſt Reaſon ſhe had to exclaim againſt his Conduct; but after that, and ſeveral other Outrages, it was no more in her Power to diſſemble her juſt Reſentment of them. She com⯑plain'd of them to all her Relations, that they might the more readily approve of her Intention to commence a Proceſs of Separation of Bodies againſt him, for ſhe had been of a long time ſeparated in Goods, without which, ſhe and her two Children had been reduc'd to the greateſt Indigence. In effect, this Man's Conduct was ſo mean, that he went often, not only without one Penny of Money, but with⯑out Cloaths and Hat. No body could diſapprove of her deſign, which ſhe put in Execution a few days after; and her Husband, who had retir'd from her ſome days before, told his Wife's Friends, that it was altogether needleſs for her to plead for a Sepa⯑ration from him, ſince for a long time he deſir'd no better, and would allow the Sentence to paſs whenever ſhe thought convenient. But there be⯑ing many more People who delight in Debauche⯑ry, than in vertuous Living; this Gentleman was [212] nevertheleſs acceptable in certain Companies, even Princes countenanc'd him as they had uſually done; and being one day at the Duke of Chartres's Table, there was by chance ſome Sauce dropp'd by one of the Attendants upon his Cloaths; and however Plain and Coarſe theſe Cloaths were, he was ex⯑treamly vex'd at the Accident; no wonder, for he had got no other in his Wardrobe for a change. This he told the young Prince betwixt Jeſt and Vexation. The Prince ſeem'd not to re⯑gard it, but talking with the Company, ſaid, That ordinarily Misfortunes attended them who were leaſt able to ſupport them. He intreated two or three Per⯑ſons of Quality, who were there, to go keep him Company the next day: For in all appearance, ſaid he, you'll find him in Bed while he ſends his Cloaths to the Scourers, and at leaſt that will be ſome Comfort to him. This poor Husband was actually oblig'd to do what the Duke ſaid; but the next day the young Prince ſent him four Suits made by his own Taylor, to the end, that if any ſuch misfortune befel him ano⯑ther time, it ſhould never hinder him to appear as uſually.

About that time the King caus'd to Arreſt one of the Uſhers of his Chamber, one of the moſt viſio⯑nary Companions in the Univerſe, whom, not⯑withſtanding his Majeſty allow'd to Diſcourſe with very often, in regard he durſt not let his Folly ap⯑pear before the King, which he had not the wit to conceal in other Company. He had of a long time thought to cauſe Hang all the Seamen, from the Marſhal D'Eſtree and Tourville to the very meaneſt. He pretended they were all Rogues, upon certain Memoirs which a Commiſſary of the Marines (who was broke) had given him. He had impor⯑tun'd his Majeſty a thouſand times upon it, and re⯑preſented to him, that if he would examine the Abuſes which had crept into the ſeveral Employ⯑ments of theſe Officers; he might find a fair op⯑portunity [213] of raiſing, juſtly, a Tax upon them to the tune of Sixty Millions. It was about the mid⯑dle of the War when he ſpoke after this manner to the King; they had a deal of difficulty to raiſe Money, and therefore his Majeſty thought the Ad⯑vice was not to be deſpis'd, and ſuppoſing there might be ſomewhat in it, he ſent him to Mon⯑ſieur Pontchartrain: But that highly diſpleas'd this Extravagant Gentleman, who probably had a mind to regulate this Affair himſelf with his Majeſty, or perhaps deſign'd to involve that Miniſter in theſe pretended Malverſations; for a Fool is capable of any Extravagancy. However, he was oblig'd to obey the King; there was hardly a Perſon to be found, who thought himſelf more able and fit for buſineſs than this Fool. But Monſieur Pontchartrain being as Prudent, as he was raſh, knew preſently how little ground this Numskul had for what he advanc'd. He acquainted the King with it. His Majeſty was much of the ſame Opinion; yet this Man, who had the opportunity to ſpeak to his Majeſty, whenever he pleas'd, could not be per⯑ſwaded of his Error, but ſtill preſented new Memorials to him, by which he intreated him to appoint ſome other Commiſſioners to hear him, who might have more leaſure to examine the mat⯑ter, than Monſieur Pontchartrain; offering upon pain of Death to make out what he advanc'd to be as clear as Day-light. This Confidence of his, together with ſome ſecret Springs he ſet at work, made the King reſolve to give him a Hearing. He obtain'd alſo ſome Acts of Council, by which he pretended to give a light to ſome obſcure Affairs. From that time forward, this raſh Numskul never ſaw any of the Officers of the Marine enter into the King's Chamber, but he told to ſuch as were by him, that theſe Gentlemen were to be tax'd in immenſe Sums; one in two Millions, ſome in more, ſome in leſs; and he though [...]t himſelf already one of the [214] firſt Peers of the Kingdom, becauſe he had ask'd of his Majeſty a ſhare of what was to be recover'd of theſe Gentlemen by the Tax; and the King had granted it to him; but himſelf had promis'd a ſhare of it to ſuch as were capable to ingratiate him with his Majeſty. This muſt needs have been very diſa⯑greeable to the Perſon concern'd. However, this little Gentleman forgot himſelf more and more daily, even to that degree of Impudence, as to vaunt, that notwithſtanding all what Monſieur Pont⯑chartrain was able to do, he did not doubt in the leaſt to ſucceed in his Enterprize. In fine, That Miniſter being no longer able to bear with his Extra⯑vagancies, made it his buſineſs to repreſent them to the King. He had ſlighted them long before, as well as the Perſon who was guilty of them. He thought him only unworthy to be regarded; but every one told him, That his Intereſt was concern'd more than he was aware of, in making his Majeſty acquainted with the truth of the Affair, for he ha⯑ving the whole Power of the Sea-Affairs, it ſeem'd as if he accus'd him under-hand, of conniving at theſe pretended Abuſes, that he ſuffer'd in others. So he was at laſt prevail'd upon by theſe Reaſons; and therefore made known to the King, that this Man was only an extravagant mad Fool, fitter to be ſent to Bedlam, than countenanc'd by ſo great a King; that his Impudence, or rather his Madneſs, appear'd too evidently, in daring to accuſe two Mar⯑ſhals of France, together with the whole Body of the Sea-Officers, without any regard to ſo many Per⯑ſons amongſt them, equally conſiderable for their Services, and diſtinguiſhed by their Quality; and very incapable of doing any thing againſt their Du⯑ty; who came daily to him to demand Juſtice of that Fool for his Inſolence, and intreated him ear⯑neſtly to repreſent it to his Majeſty. He added that he hop'd, that his Majeſty would cauſe to examine once for all, the Accuſations of that unaccountable [215] Fool, to the end he might be confounded, when it ſhould be made manifeſt that the Accuſation was ra⯑ther viſionary than real.

The King having heard this Miniſter very atten⯑tively, promis'd to do all he demanded, without looſing any time. Accordingly he commanded the Commiſſioners whom he had ordain'd to exa⯑mine that Affair, to ſearch narrowly into it. The Commiſſioners apply'd themſelves preſently to it, and having diſcover'd that all what he advanc'd, was in effect nothing elſe but the Imagination of his empty Brain, they gave his Majeſty a full account of it. The King immediately forbid that Man ever to trouble him any more with that Affair; but he not being wiſe enough to take the advantage of this Advice, would ſtill inſiſt as formerly, and had al⯑moſt ſaid, that all of them had conſpir'd to ſave the guilty. The King told him a ſecond time, that he commanded him abſolutely never to ſpeak to him of that Affair, though he was ſo good as to conceal what he had reaſon to believe of him. This Man thought at laſt his beſt way was to diſ⯑ſemble, and obey his Majeſty in appearance. But while he ſeem'd to be ſilent, he left no Stone un⯑turn'd to return to his former Trade. He brought over the Knight of Lorrain to his ſide, in order to engage the Duke of Orleans in the Affair; and tho' ſuch eternal Protens's as this Knight, are little to be credited, yet he made uſe of his Intereſt with that Prince to ſucceed in his deſign. The Duke ſpoke of it to his Majeſty, who was exceedingly ſur⯑prized, that this little Gentleman dar'd to fall upon theſe Methods, after he had expreſly forbid him. He told freely his Sentiments of it to the Duke, and forbid him ever to concern himſelf with ſuch Affairs. From that time the King reſolv'd to get rid of him, though it is always againſt his Inclina⯑tion, when he falls upon ſuch extream Meaſures with any, who had the Honour to be his Dome⯑ſtick; [216] for no Prince ever ſhew'd greater kindneſs to his Servants. However he ſuſpended his Reſolution until he ſaw that it was impoſſible to make him Prudent. This little Gentleman being ſeverely check'd by the Knight of Lorrain, becauſe he brought him into bad terms with the Duke of Or⯑leans, was ſtill ſo Impudent, as to put up a Petition in the Duke of Rochefoucaut's Name, without ever acquainting him with it beforehand. It's true, he had been twice at the Duke's Lodgings after he had done it, without having the opportunity of meeting with him. He hop'd that the Duke, who was in very good Terms with his Majeſty, would regard his Vi⯑ſions as real Truths, and eſpouſe his Intereſt as his own. This Petition was preſented to his Majeſty before the Duke had time to return home, and the King made mention of it to the Duke. He made him alſo the ſame Compliment he had made for⯑merly to his Brother, the Duke of Orleans, to wit, that he would not take it kindly if he harken'd to that impertinent Fool, or ever ſpoke of his Affairs to him. The Duke extreamly ſurpriz'd at this Check, which he had by no means deſerv'd, be⯑cauſe the Petition had been given in without his knowledge, proteſted to the King that he was igno⯑rant of what he meant, and was ſo far from excu⯑ſing his Fault, that he deſir'd Juſtice for what he had done. The King promis'd to give him full Satisfa⯑ction, and reſolv'd now more than ever to get rid of ſuch a dangerous and medling Fool. However, as if this Numskul had not already done enough towards his own Ruin, he wrote a Letter, in which he com⯑plain'd, that the King himſelf oppos'd the Service he intended to do him: This Letter was intercepted and brought to his Majeſty. He found it too Inſo⯑lent to confine his Puniſhment only to a Baniſh⯑ment from his Preſence. He caus'd him to be ſent to the Baſtile, where he was commanded in the King's Name to lay down his Charge. He ſhifted [217] the matter for a while; but in the end, it being inſinuated to him, that he muſt expect to continue Priſoner there for life, if he would not comply; he chus'd to do the laſt.

The Sea-Officers were not the only Perſons who were accus'd unjuſtly. There came about that time a certain Abbot of Quality from a Foreign Country, of whom they took the liberty to ſay no better things. For they accus'd him of having deſir'd to ſpeak with King William, before the Peace was ſign'd, and to perſwade him, that he ought not to think of making a Peace with France, for that France could not fail to be abſolutely deſtroy'd, if the War was con⯑tinued two Years longer. His Family being one of the moſt conſiderable of all Britain, was extreamly afflicted when they heard him talk'd of after that manner, eſpecially his eldeſt Brother, who was in the Service, and pretty well advanc'd. He durſt not ſhew himſelf any more to the King, fearing his Majeſty would make him anſwerable for the Crime alledg [...]d againſt his Brother. Nevertheleſs, his Ma⯑jeſty, after the Example of the Almighty, had long before explain'd himſelf upon that Head, ſaying in preſence of all the Court, That every one ſhould bear his own Crime, and that Relations were not to be anſwer⯑able for the Iniquities of their Relations: And in effect, one of the Muſqueteers having committed a horrid Murder in the Year 1676. His Majesty knew no ſooner that his Brother, who was a Captain of Horſe, was ſo extreamly afflicted at it, that he deſign'd to make his eſcape into the Low-Countries, than he ad⯑vanc'd him in the Life-Guards. He could give no more evident Proof to all the World, that he ne⯑ver meant to make one anſwerable for another's Crime. However, this Abbot's Brother being a Man of ſingular Honour, though he was ſenſible of the King's Juſtice, yet he could not avoid g [...]ieving extreamly at it; and what added much to his Grief, was, that he diſtruſted his Brother altogether. He [218] knew very well, that his little Band never hindred him from doing many things, which reflected migh⯑tily upon that Habit. He had occaſion'd a Divorce betwixt a Husband and a Wife. He carried on an amorous Intrigue with a Preſident's Wife, which occaſion'd great wrangling betwixt them; nor had the Husband ſtopt his Reſentment there, if his Re⯑lations and Friends had not convinc'd him, that a great many Chances attend our Lives, which it were better to conceal than declare. Theſe things he partly believ'd, but it was not in his Power to hinder himſelf from Murmuring, which did the Abbot a great deal of injury, who both by his Quali⯑ty and his Brother's Service, pretended to have alrea⯑dy a good Abbey, but now ſaw himſelf a thouſand Miles diſtant from it. The King, who deſires that every one ſhould mind his Duty, that is to ſay, that a Soldier be a Man of Courage, that a Judge be Juſt, and a Church-man Honeſt and Pious; no ſooner knew that he made it his practice to De⯑bauch other Men's Wives, inſtead of confirming them in Virtue, than he abſolutely forbid Father de la Chaiſe, (who had put him down in his Pocket-Book, in order to have a good Benefice) ever to propoſe him any more as a Subject worthy of any Dignity.

The poor Abbot, who had more Quality than Riches, was extreamly vext to ſee his hopes ſo fruſtrated by his own faults. However, knowing that there was Mercy for all Sins, he put himſelf into a Seminary, Whether he truly repented of what he had done, or would make the World believe he did ſo; by theſe means he meant to free his Majesty of the bad Impreſſion he might have of his Conduct, and inſinuate himſelf into his Favour. The King, who is a very Judicious Prince, and is ſeldom or never miſtaken in his Opinion of Perſons, did not allow himſelf to be impos'd upon by that Change, ſo very different from his former Life. For he Preach'd, [119] Faſted, and Catechiz'd; and in a word, there was not one Church-man, not only in the Seminaries, but even within twenty Leagues round it, whoſe Conduct was more Exemplary than his. Father de la Chaiſe was very deſirous to oblige him, but could never comprehend whence aroſe the King's Aver⯑ſion for him; being naturally good, and more in⯑clin'd to judge well than ill of any Perſon, he took occaſion to ſpeak to his Majesty of him, and repreſented to him, that the Auſterity of his Life, and his regular Conduct, did not only deſerve an Abbey, but even a Biſhoprick; that the greateſt Sin⯑ners become ordinarily the greateſt Saints; and if God Almighty were like him, they muſt blot out of the Calendar a great many Saints; who after ha⯑ving committed very great Crimes, had ſhew'd the Abbot the way he follow'd at preſent. The King was nothing mov'd at his Confeſſor's Diſcourſe. On the contrary he anſwer'd him, that he might blot him out of the Liſt of Biſhops, as he had done a while ago out of the Liſt of Abbots, for he never would honour him with that Dignity.

I do not know, if ever this Anſwer was made known to the Abbot, or if he was already weary of paſſing his Days in a Seminary, and waiting ſo long time for a Benefice, of which he ſaw no ap⯑pearance; whatever was the matter, he chang'd his Reſidence very ſoon. It's true, it did not renew his Intrigue with the Preſident's Wife, or with any other. On the contrary, he avoided all for a long time, as if he meant to continue the Life that he made ſo great a ſhew of in the Eyes of all France. But whether he ſaw that they would eye him nar⯑rowly, or that he intended to continue his Courſe, he paſs'd into Flanders, where he apply'd himſelf to Catechizing every day: He alſo began to aſſiſt dy⯑ing Perſons; and the Marquiſs of Blanch [...]ford, ſe⯑cond Son to the Duke of Crequi, falling Sick about that time, it was he that exhorted him to prepare [220] himſelf for the Paſſage that appears ſo terrible, eſpe⯑cially to thoſe of ſuch a youthful Age as he was of. Father de la Chaiſe took occaſion upon this alſo, to ſpeak to the King in favour of this Abbot. He told him, that the Abbot did not require his Preſence to oblige him to good Actions, and ſo he could not be reproach'd (as a great many others might juſtly be) with Hypocriſy. But the King nothing mov'd by this new Attack, anſwer'd, That he could never perſwade him but that the Abbot was no good Man; that time would diſcover very ſoon which of them was moſt deceived, but he did not believe it was himſelf. Father de la Chaiſe reply'd, That he was afraid his Majeſty of⯑fended God Almighty, in judging ſo badly of his Neigh⯑bour. But his Majeſty return'd it ſmartly home, in ſaying, That he was afraid, that he offended him more, in deſiring him to give a Biſhoprick to a Man, whom he thought altogether unworthy of it. I know not whe⯑ther this Anſwer came to the Abbot's Ears, but all of a ſudden he left the great deſire he had ſhown (while in Flanders) to Catechize Men; and without acquainting any Perſon with his deſign, went into Holland to careſs the Women there; at leaſt he was ſeen doing it ſoon after his arrival. However, his going often to the Houſe of one of the Plenipoten⯑tiaries, gave occaſion to ſome People to ſay, That this Preacher was not only debauch'd, but alſo a very dangerous M [...]n. In a word, he was ſuſpected to have given not only Memoirs to that Ambaſſador, but alſo to have had a private Interview with King William, and reveal'd to him a great many Secrets. However, all that was falſe, nor had he any other deſign to go ſo often to that Ambaſſador's, than to pay his Reſpects to a Perſon who fill'd the Preſi⯑dent's Lady's Room in his Heart. She was alſo ſomewhat more deſerving than the other, without doing her any injuſtice. However, as one Lye ge⯑neral [...]y begets a great many amongſt thoſe who vent them; the next Day all Paris would have it, [221] that the King had wrote to King William to entreat him, to ſend him the Abbot bound Hand and Foot; they made it alſo known to the pretended Crimi⯑nal by a Letter unſign'd, and the Hand-writing was altogether unknown to him; but adviſed him, if it came ſeaſonably to his Hand, he would make it his Buſineſs to ſave himſelf by flying to Turky, rather than ſuffer himſelf to be taken.

The poor Abbot was much aſtoniſhed at this Ac⯑cuſation; if they had accus'd him of being Amorous, he had been oblig'd to own it, becauſe it was true. Neither the Seminary where he had been, nor the Mortifications which Pere de la Chaiſe had advanc'd ſo much in his Favour to the King, were capable to wean him from that unhappy Paſſion to which (to his great Misfortune) he was very ſubject. In fine, knowing himſelf not only Innocent, but alſo unca⯑pable of the crime laid to his Charge, he went to wait upon Monſieur Harlai, in order to ask him, if he had receiv'd the Order, of which they had given him Advice ſecretly; if ſo, he came to put himſelf into his Hands, ſo that it would not be neceſſary to Arreſt him; and if it was ſent to any other Perſon, he came however to deliver himſelf Priſoner to him, that they might not be at the trouble to ſearch for him; he intreated him to acquaint the King with it, that his Majeſty might be ſatisfied of his In⯑nocence, until he could make it evident before any Commiſſioners his Majeſty ſhould be pleas'd to ap⯑point. Monſieur Harlai had heard ſomewhat of the Matter before. This oblig'd him to examine his Conduct, and to ſet ſome Spies upon him, in order to watch whither he went at ſome certain hours; for he judg'd that it muſt needs be about that time that he was moſt buſied about his Treaſon, if Fame was to be believ'd; but at laſt, theſe Spies reported to Monſieur Harlai, that he was altogether took up about his Miſtriſs, which juſtified him ſo [222] much in his Opinion, that he gave him to know, he wiſh'd with all his heart, the Priſon he was en⯑gag'd in, might not prove more troubleſome to him, than what he came to look for at his Houſe; that it would not prove very hard for him to break his Chains, becauſe he not only declar'd him free, but alſo Innocent of what was laid to his Charge, as far as conſiſted with his Power. However he believ'd, that his Heart was not ſo much upon the French, as it had formerly been; but as it's impo⯑ſſible to be always in Love, he was perſwaded it might return to its former Inclination when he thought leaſt of it; and by theſe means he might be at eaſe, for he would ſecure him, none would impute to him this as a great Crime. In effect, this was the Abbot's Crime: And though he was ſhelter'd in it from all he was threaten'd with; nevertheleſs he was not ſo happy as to continue always in the good Eſteem of Father de la Chaiſe. He durſt not ſpeak any more in his Favour to his Majeſty, conſidering he had ſet up a Holland Lady in the place of the Preſident's: His Majeſty ask'd alſo that good Father, if he was now con⯑vinc'd, and if he intended ſtill to demand a Biſho⯑prick for that Abbot. The Jeſuit was ſomewhat humbled at that Reproach, and all he could ſay for his Juſtification, was that he could not hin⯑der himſelf from being impos'd upon, by the Tricks of an Hypocrite, no more than any body elſe.

But if his Majeſty was proof againſt the Recom⯑mendations of his Father Confeſſor, whoſe Opi⯑nion in Matters of that Nature gains generally the King's Conſent, the Caſe was quite different with regard to another Abbot, whom this good Father protected alſo. I mean the Abbot of Coadlet, whoſe ſad Adventure has no Parallel in any Ancient or Modern Hiſtory, nor perhaps ever will have in thoſe to come. Not but that they afford us Examples [223] enough of depos'd Biſhops; but as that is ſeldom done but by the Authority of the Church, or upon the account of manifeſt Hereſy, or for ſome other Capital Crime, If I be not miſtaken, I may confi⯑dently ſay, that the Hiſtory I mean to inſert here, ex⯑ceeds what can be ſaid of theſe Examples. But be it as it will, the Abbot of Coadlet, a Gentleman of Bri⯑tany, though he had already a Dignity in the Chap⯑ter of Vannes; yet he thought it not amiſs to ask ſome other little Benefice, by which means he might ſubſiſt the more conveniently, and confin'd the utmoſt extent of his Ambition to the having four or five thouſand Livres a Year. And to that end, by the means of very good Friends, apply'd himſelf to Father de la Chaiſe, upon whom he believ'd all theſe Matters depended. This good Father told him, That he did himſelf an injuſtice in reſtricting himſelf to ſo narrow Bounds, and that he ought to ask ſome better thing, for he could hope to obtain it. The Abbot was over-joy'd to hear him ſpeak after that manner; and as generally a good Appetite increaſes by eating; ſo this Gentleman of a little Abbot, was now very deſirous to become a fat Biſhop. However, he durſt not mention it ſuddenly to Pere de la Chaiſe, but the good Father gave him to know, that the Dig⯑nity he enjoy'd already in the Cathedral, render'd him worthy of the other, eſpecially when it was joyn'd to all the other Qualities requiſite for a Bi⯑ſhop; ſo he got himſelf to be liſted in the Catalogue of the Candidates for the Epiſcopal Dignity. How⯑ever, he continued at Paris until the King had fill'd up ſome vacant Biſhopricks, which had Pretenders enough. For now the Scene is alter'd from what it was formerly, amongſt thoſe, upon whom they conferr'd that Dignity, who ſaid ingenuouſly, Nolo Epiſcopari: I will not be a Biſhop. For now-a-days, they think at leaſt, if they do not ſay, Volo Epiſcopari, (i. e.) I will be a Biſhop, and no doubt they think it from their very Heart, becauſe it is [224] impoſſible to give an account of all the Friends they employ, or of all the Springs they ſet at Work, in order to obtain the Mitre.

The Abbot of Coadlet, who knew pretty well the Secret how to come by it, was not ſufficiently ſa⯑tisfied to hear only Father de la Chaiſe for him, tho' he was the beſt Friend he could employ, but he apply'd himſelf to others alſo, who were capable to do him as conſiderable Service as the former. For he thought as in legal Proceſſes, abundance of the Law breaks not the Law; ſo in offers of this nature, he could never make uſe of too many on his behalf. However, as there are many, who Ruin themſelves in making uſe of the Methods that others ſave themſelves by; ſo he found that what he took to be of greateſt advantage, prov'd moſt deſtructive, and that to ſuch a degree, that it's impoſſible for him ever to retrieve it. Being in⯑form'd, That in the Age we live in, Women are as ſerviceable as any thing elſe; he made his Ad⯑dreſs with his utmoſt Application to Marſhal Crequi's Lady, who was his Country-woman. That Lady promis'd him her Favour, and was as good as her Word. But he having likewiſe heard that old Wo⯑men have not ſo much Intereſt as young ones, quickly abandon'd her, and took up with her Daughter-in-law, whom he took to be more capa⯑ble to ſerve him. He waited upon her punctually every day; and in the Holy-week, he happening to be at her Houſe, had not the power to refuſe to accept of a match at Ombre that ſhe propos'd to him; ſome ſay it was Baſſette; but either of 'em is equally criminal before God, unleſs it be that the one is a greater Inſtrument of Paſſion than the other. However, he conſider'd that 'twas not a proper Imployment for one that pretended to a Biſhoprick, eſpecially at ſuch an unſeaſonable time; and for that reaſon he carefully requeſted the Lady, and all her Company, that the Doors might be kept [225] very cloſe leſt any body ſhould ſee him ingag'd in an Exerciſe ſo inconſiſtent with his Profeſſion. 'Tis ſuch a common thing at Paris to ſee the Gentlemen with the little Band playing at all ſorts of Game, that the very Foot-men, who over-heard his Diſ⯑courſe, look'd upon him as a Hypocrite; but they were ſtrangers to his Pretenſions, and conſider'd very little of what conſequence it was to him, to have it conceal'd from the King, nor how neceſſary it was for him to have it kept ſecret, leaſt it might blow up his deſign.

However, that Week having paſs'd before the King heard any thing of theſe Tranſactions, he fil⯑led up the vacant Benefices, according to his uſual Cuſtom, upon Eaſter-day, for he never names any body but at that time, whether it be, becauſe it's a Formality of a long ſtanding, or that the King's Confeſſors have introduc'd it in order to have them⯑ſelves courted the more during the Interval; but paſſing over that, as a thing I have no mind to ſearch into, we muſt believe, that this Abbot was only known to the King upon the account of his Bro⯑ther, who was Lieuterant of the Guards; however ſeeing him firſt in the Liſt of the Candidates for Bi⯑ſhopricks, he ask'd his Father Confeſſor who this Man was. The Good Father meaning to do him a kind⯑neſs, had no mind to ſay any thing to his diſad⯑vantage, but extoll'd him to the Heavens for the beſt of Men; inſomuch, that his Majeſty believing him one of the beſt Men, and of the moſt exem⯑plary Life in his Kingdom, nam'd him for the Bi⯑ſhoprick of Poictiers. This news was no ſooner known at Paris, than every body was amaz'd, for his name was never heard of out of his own Pro⯑v [...]nce before, though by what happn'd to him in a ſhort time after, it was in every one's Mouth. Every body, who heard he was to have that Bi⯑ſhoprick, believ'd he muſt be a Perſon of extraordi⯑nary [226] Virtue, in regard the King had choſen him to ſo good a Benefice, to the prejudice of a great many conſiderable Perſons who expected it. But thoſe who had play'd with him at the Marchioneſs of Crequi's, made no Secret to tell others, that he was not ſo wonderfully Godly, for he had employ'd one day in the Holy Week at Game. This News came the ſame Day to the King's Ears, which made his Majeſty paſs that Night in a mortal Anxiety, fearing that God Almighty would call him to an Account for having nam'd a Perſon to a Bi⯑ſhoprick, that was capable of ſo black an A⯑ction.

The next Morning, Father de la Chaiſe coming to him to have the Liſt of thoſe, who were named to the Benefices, Signed, as ſoon as the King ſaw this Abbot's Name underneath, inſtead of ſigning, he blotted it out: The Good Father ask'd him what he did, not underſtanding what he meant. The King anſwer'd, That there was a Man in that Liſt, who did not merit to be there; that he knew nothing of him, when he had given him a Biſhoprick, nor he himſelf could not have known him, when he propos d him as a fit Perſon; but, that he had been ſince juſtly repreſented to him, and that the over-ſight he had committed, had al⯑moſt thrown him into Deſpair. This reflected in ſome meaſure upon the Good Father, who had told him Wonders of this Man, the more to oblige thoſe who had recommended him; and perhaps he himſelf believ'd all was told him to the advantage of that Perſon. However, the Jeſuit altogether amaz'd at theſe Expreſſions, made uſe of the Au⯑thority he had over his Conſcience, to oblige him to change his Reſolution. Though it was eaſy for him to judge, by what the King had ſaid, that of neceſſity ſome People had given him a ſtrange Character of that poor Abbot; yet he ſaid, That [227] we muſt not believe upon light grounds, all that we hear of our Neighbour, that he had often re⯑commended to him the reading of the little Book of the Imitation of Jeſus, and there he might ſee a Chapter done purpoſely upon that Subject; that Lying abounded in a great meaſure amongſt Men, as well as Jealouſy; inſomuch, that his Majeſty's Bounty was ſufficient to move all the Malice of Hell againſt him.

The King having hearken'd attentively to what he ſaid, reply'd, That it was no Lye they told him, as he imagin'd; that it was a thing happen'd lately in the preſence of a great many, that he alſo knew the Witneſſes; inſomuch, that he had not the leaſt ground to doubt of it. The Good Father deſir'd to know what the matter was; the King made no Secret of it, adding moreover, That if Fame was to be cre⯑dited, that Abbot was no leſs a Lover of the Sex than of Game. And in effect, this was told the King with a great deal of aſſurance; but whether he lov'd them or no, for I know no body hates them; it was certain that he gave no Scandal to the World that way, as his Enemies alledg'd; ſo the King was ſoon perſwaded that he was impos'd upon in that Affair. However, Father de la Chaiſe ſeeing that the other was a weighty Accuſation, and that the King kept cloſe to it, he thought of throwing ſome ſcruple into his Mind. He told him then, That there was more of Infirmity than of Crime in what the Abbot had done; that it was certain, it was rather out of Complaiſance than Inclination, or want of due Reſpect to theſe Holy-Days, that he had handled the Cards at that time; that very few People knew of this his fault, but now all France would begin to pry into it, and even ſuſpect an infinity of things, as ſoon as his Majeſty ſhould deprive him of what he had once conferr'd upon him; that his Majeſty ought [228] to be very cautions in giving that Scandal to his People, that certainly he muſt be anſwerable for it before God: That a ſmall Reproof given in ſecret to that Abbot, would prevail more with him, and oblige him to ask God pardon for what he had done, and by this means all would be buried in Oblivion; that after all, it ought not to be re⯑garded as a heinous fault, but in reſpect to the time it was committed, for he was not the only Eccleſiaſtick who a had Paſſion for Game; ſince there were many Biſhops and Abbots, who made it their principal Exerciſe; though after all, they were not depriv'd of their Biſhoprick and Abbots upon that ac⯑count. He own'd freely to his Majeſty, it were more decent for them not to do it, and was of Opinion, that theſe things ought to be none of their Diverſions. But in fine, the Spirit of Man⯑kind is weak, and there being four and twenty Hours in the Day, it is impoſſible to employ them all in Exerciſes of Piety, and therefore they are allow'd to refreſh themſelves with innocent Recre⯑ations.

The King had no great opinion of this Morali⯑ty, he thought it too looſe, eſpecially with regard to thoſe Men who were the Subject of the Diſ⯑courſe. For he put a vaſt difference betwixt them and a Courtier, or a Man of the Sword, whom he thought might be allow [...]d ſuch things; but to believe that Eccleſiaſticks ought to have the ſame extent of freedom, was a thing, with all due Re⯑ſpect to his Father Confeſſor, he could never be per⯑ſwaded off. So it being impoſſible to convince his Majeſty by this Objection, he was fain to have recourſe to ſome other Argument. He inſiſted upon the Scandal he was like to give, but that gaining nothing upon him, he pray [...]d him to adviſe with Heaven before he would determine abſolutely the matter. His Majeſty conſented willingly. For in [229] that he demanded only what became a good Chri⯑ſtian, and was conformable to the Inclination of this Prince. So the King kneeling that very mi⯑nute upon a Cuſhion, Father de la Chaiſe kneel'd by him, to make him ſay the Prayers which he de⯑ſir'd. Prayers being ended, the Good Father ask'd him what return the Lord made. His Majeſty re⯑ply'd, Nothing of what you wiſh'd for, and that he was as reſolute as formerly to execute his deſign. He added, That he ſaw it very inconvenient not to do it; for if he ſhould make that Abbot a Biſhop, and if he ſhould neglect his Duty in his Dioceſs, God Almighty would one day call him to an Account for it; that he had faults enough of his own to anſwer for, without taking upon him thoſe of other People; and he believ'd him too Good, and too Pious, to adviſe him otherwiſe. The Good Father was not yet put off with that Anſwer. He ask'd of the King as the laſt Favour, to ſuſpend his Reſolution until he ſhould return from Maſs, whither he was juſt agoing. He conjur'd him to invoke earneſtly the Holy Ghoſt, that he might en⯑lighten him. The King condeſcended very wil⯑lingly; but not having receiv'd the Inſpiration which the Good Father pretended, he declar'd, That he had blotted that Abbot out of the Liſt, be⯑cauſe he did not believe him ſo proper for a Biſhoprick as he at firſt imagin'd. The poor Abbot of Coadles heard of theſe News with all the Surpriſal and Grief imaginable. He retir'd into a Seminary, there to bury his Vexation However, the King calling to mind what Father de la Chaiſe had ſaid to him, and being deſirous that he ſhould be ſuſpected of nothing but the Truth, declar'd at the ſame time, before all the Court, That what that Abbot had done in the Holy Week, was the only cauſe of his Misfor⯑tune; that whatever elſe was ſaid of him was falſe, and that he was oblig'd to give that Teſtimony in his Favour.

[230] The King having ſhow'd himſelf ſo full of the fear of God in an Affair of ſo great Conſequence, ſhew'd himſelf equally full of Juſtice in another Affair that concern'd a Man of the ſame Coun⯑try. Which was as follows: a Counſellor of the Parliament of Britany, call'd Montchamp, having cudgell'd the Nephew of Moreau, the famous Actreſs in the Opera; and who gave ſome ground to ſpeak of her upon an account different from what ſhe acted upon the Theatre; the young Man carried his Complaint to his Majeſty. The Coun⯑ſellor expected that his Intereſt in the Parliament, in whoſe Aſſembly that Affair was done, would ſhelter him from all Accidents. He treated alrea⯑dy that Man very ſlightingly and meanly. But the Lady of that Opera, whom Perſons of the firſt Quality ador'd, having eſpous'd her Nephew's Quarrel, obtain'd a private Letter in his favour. This Letter enjoyn'd the Parliament expreſly to do the Plantiff ſo good, and ſo ready Juſtice, that he ſhould have no reaſon to complain of it. Montchamp underſtanding by theſe means, that he had to do with a more powerful Party than he thought of; had recourſe to ſuch Tricks as are uſual among the People of his Trade. He made a diligent Inquiry into the Life, not of the Aunt, (for it had been no difficulty in the leaſt to prove a great many things of her) but of the Nephew. For he thought that if he could d [...]ſ [...]over any un⯑warrantable Action in it, as he hop'd he might, he could at leaſt retard the Proceſs, which his Adver⯑ſary had commenc'd againſt him. However, not truſting very much to theſe hopes, he was fain to fall upon other Meaſures to get rid of this unlucky hit; and therefore intreated the Marſhal of Cr [...]'s Lady, who was his Relation, to cauſe an Accom⯑modation to be propos'd to M [...]r [...].

[231] This Actreſs was no ſooner apply'd to, than ſhe ſtood aloof. The Marſhal's Lady threaten'd her with the diſcovery the Counſellor made in her Ne⯑phew's Life, on purpoſe to fright her. But whe⯑ther ſhe was afraid of nothing from that Facti⯑on, or that ſhe thought ſhe had Friends enough to protect her, ſhe carried her Pretenſions ſo high as to demand Ten thouſand Crowns of the Marſhal's Lady for her Nephew's Intereſt and Damages. As ſoon as the Lady had acquainted her Relations that there was no hopes of an Ac⯑commodation for him, he ſpoke very ſcornfully of ſuch an exorbitant Demand; ſo applying him⯑ſelf altogether to a vigorous Defence, he would certainly have confounded the oppoſite Party, if the Parliament had condeſcended to it. He gave in a Petition againſt the Plaintiff, ſhewing that he had two Wives. He deſir'd to have a Decret paſs'd againſt him; but bringing no valid proof for his Accuſation, the Parliament durſt not declare in his Favour, for fear of a Reprimand from the Court. For the ſecret Letter which they had re⯑ceiv'd, together with a Letter from the Attourney-General of the Parliament of Paris, gave them to know, that they muſt proceed juſtly, if they meant not to have their Sentence liable to a Revi⯑ſal. Above all, they were afraid of the Aunt's Friends, ſuſpecting very much, that if they gave them the leaſt ground of Complaint, they ſhould have them, more than her, for their Adverſaries. In fine, Montchamp failing in his Expectation, and not being able to produce any Proof for what he alledg'd; though he had employ'd ſome conſider⯑able Perſons in it, Sentence was pronounc'd upon the Affair. He was ſuſpended for ſix Months, and having receiv'd a Reprimand behind the Bench, he was condemn'd to pay the coſts. He had made an offer before of Four thouſand Livres to [232] his Adverſary; but by the Calculation made of the Charges, they did not amount to ſo much, which was no ſmall Mortification for our Actreſs M [...]r [...]au. For had it depended upon her, ſhe had proteſted againſt the Sentence. But the Gentlemen of the Robe aſſur'd her ſhe would fail in the attempt, ſo that ſhe was fain to condeſcend againſt her In⯑clination.

As Britany furniſhes us thus with an inſtance of Violence committed upon the Perſon of one of her Publick Magiſtrates, ſo Paris produc'd ſomewhat like it in the Son of one of her's; but what is ſomething more, it was executed upon a Perſon of Quality. The Marquis of Novion, Son to the late Monſieur Novion, Maſter of the Rolls, and Brother to the preſent Monſieur Novion, Preſident of the Soveraign Court, falling in Love with a cer⯑tain Chanoineſſe, whoſe Mother was of the ſame Family with Monſieur de Caumartin, he humour [...]d her to that degree, that he promis'd, as is alledg'd, to revenge her Quarrel upon a Gentleman, of whom ſhe complain'd heavily. She was extream⯑ly vex'd that this Gentleman, who call'd himſelf the Knight of St. Geniers, ſhould have preſſed her ſomewhat too hard to pay him ſome Money, that he alledg'd he had lent her. He had been for⯑merly her Lover; but whether ſhe pretended, that when once a Man is in Love with a Woman, he ought to give and not lend, or that he had de⯑manded his Money after a rude manner; ſhe had told the Marquiſs ſo often, that this Gentleman was troubleſome to her; that he was charg'd with what I am now to recount. The Knight of St. Geniers paſſing one Day along a Street that was pretty near his former Miſtriſs's Lodgings, was at⯑tack'd by five or ſix Bravado's of Paris, who are always at a ſhort diſtance from one another, when they deſign any thing. And their Valour conſiſts [233] only in that, which has ſome Relation to what Monſieur de Turenne was us'd to ſay, namely, That God Almighty was always of the ſtrongeſt ſide. In effect, their Train obliges thoſe, who would have no regard for them, upon the lay of Man for Man, to ſhew them ſome Reſpect. But whether it was upon that account, or that the Knight, being one of Maltha, own'd no Enemy but a Turk, he had no Inclination to meddle with this Man. But this pretended Hero, who had ſerv'd his Apprenticeſhip to Slaughtering, being the Son of a Butcher, ſee⯑ing the Knight took no notice of ſome ſmall In⯑dignities he had given him, had a mind to know, whether or no he had forgot his firſt Trade, though ſome time ago he had exchang'd it for the Rapier. He meant therefore to ſlit his Noſe, and perform'd it ſo dexterouſly, that all the Noſe was left the poor Knight, hung by one ſmall Ten⯑don, and he had certainly cut it off quite, had he not been hinder [...]d by ſome People who interpos'd, but he made his eſcape while the Knight's Wound was a dreſſing. The whole Town was immedi⯑ately alarm'd at the boldneſs of this Action. It was no great difficulty for the Knight to judge who had hatch'd this Miſchief; and therefore as ſoon as the Chyrurgion had dreſs'd him, he went im⯑mediately and made his Complaint to the Commiſ⯑ſ [...]y. The Lieu [...]enant Criminal gave out a Warrant againſt the Bravado, and ſome other certain Gen⯑tlemen who accompanied him in the Exploit. But as to the Marquiſs, the Chanoineſſe and her Mother, whom the Knight had likewiſe accus'd, he had ſome more Conſideration for them; for the Re⯑ſpect he had for their Relations, oblig'd him to proceed very nicely againſt them. He thought it ſufficient to Iſſue out a perſonal Summons againſt the three: The Mother and the Daughter made their Compearance, and were interrogated. But the [234] Marquiſs of Novion durſt not ſhow his Counte⯑nance, in regard his Bully had been ſo fooliſh as to ſuffer himſelf to be apprehended. But he retir'd to a Friend's Houſe, hoping that by his Reputation in the Robe, he might ſave the Guilty from a juſt Puniſhment. But his Majeſty being in⯑form'd of the whole Affair by one of the Knight's Friends, commanded the Matter to be examin'd very ſtrictly, ſo that the Marquiſs was fain to leave Paris, and ſave himſelf by flying to Swiſſer⯑land

It [...] happy for theſe Women, that they never had either ſeen or heard of this Bully; inſomuch, that he not being able to accuſe them, they were without any farther difficulty abſolv'd from their perſonal Summons. However, the Bully was ſen⯑tenc'd by the Lieutenant-Criminal to be hang'd, nor could he avoid giving of that Sentence. However deſirous he was to oblige the Marquiſs's Family. The Marquiſs's Friends advis'd the Criminal to fear nothing, for the Parliament, to whom he had appeal'd, would infallibly clear him. But the Knight ſuſpecting the matter, prevented their threatnings, and petition'd the King, to give him other Judges, which he obtain'd. The Appeal, inſtead of being brought before the Parliament, according to the uſual Cuſtom, was brought be⯑fore the Great Council. The Meaſures of the Marquiſs's Friends and Relations being by this means quite defeated, they advis'd him to keep himſelf cloſe where he was, for ſeeing his Affairs had taken ſo fatal a turn, it was by no means ſafe for him to return into the Kingdom. But being Colonel of the Regiment of Britany, and all the World believing him guilty, a great many People made Intereſt to have his Regiment. Mon⯑ſieur de Boveron, the Marquiſs of Harcourt s Father, ask'd it for the Marquiſs of Seſane, his eldeſt Son [235] of a ſecond Marriage. For he had married for his ſecond Wife, the Marquis of Genles's Widow, who was the late Marſhal de Fabert's youngeſt Daughter.

The Marquis's Relations were ſenſible of what importance it was for them to weather this Storm; for if once the King diſpos'd of his Regiment, it would not only prove a mortal Stroke to his For⯑tune, that was already pretty low, but the World would alſo look upon it as a ſort of Conviction againſt him. They therefore ſupplicated his Ma⯑jeſty that he would be pleas'd to delay that Affair for ſome ſmall time, promiſing to oblige their Kinſman to return quickly in order to clear him⯑ſelf of the Crime laid to his charge; and alledg⯑ing he was reduc'd to mean Circumſtances, upon which account it would be equally acceptable to take away his Life, as his Regiment. The King, in conſideration of their Services, granted their Requeſt. And the Marquis of Seſane was oblig'd to provide for himſelf ſomewhere elſe, if he meant to have a Regiment. However, this made no ſtop in the Appeal of the Condemn'd Criminal, for the Sentence being confirm'd; when he perceiv'd that all their fine Promiſes were not ſufficient to ſave him from a Rope, he charg'd the Marquis of Novion with the Crime at his Death. This Sen⯑tence ſatisfied in ſome meaſure the Knight's Re⯑venge, who always ſaw the Marks of his Affront when he look'd into his Glaſs. For tho' his Noſe was ſtitch'd up, yet the Seam appearing, was no ſmall Mortification to him; ſo that he could never be at eaſe until he had the ſame Satisfaction of others, that he had already of the Bully. He pro⯑ſecuted them very eagerly before the ſame Tribu⯑nal. However, he could never have his Revenge of them, as he pretended; for though he prevail'd ſo far, as to have the Cauſe remov'd from before [236] the Parliament, where the Marquis had a great many Friends and Relations, and generally all Judges ſtick cloſe by one another; yet to this mi⯑nute the Affair remains undecided. For they ſtart⯑ed ſo many difficulties, that it is impoſſible for one of a more conſiderable Intereſt than his, to re⯑move them; beſides, to plead in Criminal Matters, requires a more weighty Purſe than his, and yet could eaſily exhauſt it. In the mean time, another Adventure happen [...]d to Preſident Novion ▪s Nephew, and however extraordinary the firſt appear'd, yet it bears no proportion with this I am about to men⯑tion now.

This Preſident's Wife was a Gentleman's Daugh⯑ter, whoſe Office it was to give out the Powder, by which he had got immenſe Sums of Money. She had a Siſter by her firſt Marriage, who was the Widow of a certain Man, call [...]d Ombreval, Advocate-General of the Court of Aides, by whom ſhe had ſome Children, and amongſt the reſt, a Son of one or two and twenty Years old: He ſtu⯑died the Law, that he might ſucceed his Father in his Profeſſion. This young Gentleman coming from the Law-School, ſaw two Jeſuits paſſing along, and at the ſame time a Cart loaded with Bundles of Rods, then he told his Companions, that theſe Diſ [...]ples of St. Ignatius had often whipp [...]d him in the College, and he had a good mind to be reveng'd of them now that he found his opportunity; he mean'd to bang them like Bridewel-Birds, and to that in⯑tent each of them might take a Bundle of theſe Rods from the Cart, and oblige theſe good Fathe's to ask them Pardon for all the Cruelty they had made them ſuffer before. In all appearance he had only ſaid this to divert himſelf But his Companions underſtanding him literally, the moſt fooliſh, and moſt bold of 'em, leap'd upon the Ca [...]t, and in ſpite of the Carman, unty'd the Bundles, took up hand⯑fulls [237] of the Rods, and like ſo many Furies fell upon the poor Jeſuits, who never dreamt of the like Adventure. There was no great matter of Ceremony in the Compliment they made them. They told them only, they had often oblig'd them to pull down their Breeches againſt their Incli⯑nation, and now they meant to do the like to them; that common Juſtice requir'd they ſhould pay them preſently for all the Evil they had ſuf⯑fer'd by them, and they would make them ſenſible, by which means they intended to perform it. This Folly appear'd ſo extravagant, that the two Jeſuits could never underſtand what they meant. But theſe Furies made them to know very quickly by falling ſuddenly upon them; that its altogether as dangerous to fall into the Hands of Scholars, as into the Hands of the moſt barbarous Hangman upon Earth. Some pull'd off their Cloaks, others their Gowns, while another Party unty'd their Breeches, another pull'd up their Shirts, the young Ombreval ſerv [...]d for Executioner, together with another of the ſame Family, who had conſign'd his Money in order to be a Councellor of Parlia⯑ment.

All the People got to the Windows upon the noiſe theſe poor Jeſuits made, to call to the Neigh⯑bours for Aſſiſtance; and among others, a pretty young Girl, who was more zealous than the reſt, to hinder them from receiving any greater Affront, cry'd aloud, that it deſerv'd a ſevere Puniſhment, as in effect it did; but perceiving ſhe was not heard, ſhe went down Stairs to ſee if her Preſence could have a greater Influence than her Words; but alas! her Charity coſt her very dear. For theſe Scho⯑lars, who were far from having ſo much good na⯑ture as ſhe, ſeeing her eſpouſe ſo earneſtly the part of theſe good Fathers, that ſhe reproach'd them for their Injuſtice; ſeiz'd her alſo, pull'd up her [238] Peticoats behind, and whipp'd her as they had done the Jeſuits. After that, ſhe pleaded no more for them, but as ſoon as ſhe got out of their Hands, ſhe run in and ſhut the Doors, and got up to her Chamber in great Confuſion and Vexation at her Adventure. The Jeſuits had reaſon to be no leſs vex'd. However, though the ſame fate hap⯑pen'd to them all, they having been all three whipp'd in the open Streets; there was ſtill this difference in the Sequel, that the Adventure prov'd more fatal to the Girl than to them. The Fraternity receiv'd them always with the ſame kindneſs into the Convent. They vow'd alſo to revenge it in a little time, or dye in the Attempt; whereas the Girl was abandon'd by her Lover, and ſwore he would not have her; they had agreed upon their Marriage, and the Articles had been already ſign'd, but he fearing that if he proceeded further, he might be call'd all over the Town, The Husband of the whipp'd Girl, could not endure to hear it ſpoken of. They threaten'd to proſecute him, if he did not make good his Promiſe. He anſwer'd, He valu'd it not, and that he would defend himſelf the beſt way he could; and its probable his Reaſons might have prevail [...]d, for every one condemn'd the Indiſ⯑cretion of the Girl, to meddle where ſhe was ſo lit⯑tle concern'd.

This Action was too publick, and too bold, not to ſpread in an inſtant over all Paris. Monſieur D' Argenſon had ſoon advice of it, and it being his Duty to find out Criminals, he ſent ſo many of his Spies abroad, that he ſoon diſcover'd young Ombreval to be one of them. He alſo knew, that this Gentleman began the Fray, and was one of the Executioners, through whoſe Hands thoſe Je⯑ſuits had paſs'd. He likewiſe found out the other's Name, who had executed the ſame Office, and caus'd them both to be taken up. Preſident Novion [239] was extreamly offended at him, as if he ought to have that deference for him, as not to treat after that manner a Perſon that concern'd him ſo nearly. But this Vanity and Haughtineſs were very familiar to that Family, though it was of a far later ſtand⯑ing than Monſieur D' Argenſon's. Before St. Innocent's Shrine was alter'd, which was but lately, we had an Epitaph extant, that ſhows ſufficiently, they have neither ſo much Nobility nor Grandeur in their Race, as they would make the World believe. It is far different from what we ſee at this time in the Celeſtines, where the Duke of Gevres, one of that Family would have us believe, that he is lineally deſcended from St. Louis. Though the Family be only come from a Merchand, one Fourner, who made his Son an Advocate, and that Son laid the Foundation of the vaſt Grandeur. However it be, Preſident Novion minding that leſs than the Poſt he poſſeſs'd, thought himſelf far above Monſieur D' Ar⯑genſon, and wrote to him very diſreſpectfully upon what he had done. Monſieur D' Argenſon regarding his Letter very little, went on in his ordinary Courſe, ſo that the Preſident was fain to take his Nephew out of Priſon, and his Companion came out after the ſame manner: Both of them had a good many Friends, and the Accuſation they were charg'd with, being deſtitute of Proof ſufficient to bring them to a Tryal, they were very happily clear'd of it. This was all the Jeſuits had for their Satisfaction, and the poor whipp'd Girl for her's; beſides the Mortification of having miſs'd of a Huſ⯑band, together with the Grief and Indignity ſhe re⯑ceiv'd.

In the mean time, the New King of England ſent a New Ambaſſador to Court, namely, the Earl of Portland, his old Favourite. For the Earl of Albe⯑marle only ſucceeded to him, if I may ſay ſo; for though he was his Britannick Majeſty's Darling, [240] yet Portland was in as good Terms with his Maſter as ever. Moreover he had this advantage over the other, that beſides the Favour which was common to them both, he was confided in. This Earl renew'd that Grandeur at our Court, which was to be ſeen in the time of the Duke of Bucking⯑ham, when he came to demand in Marriage for the King his Maſter, Mary Henrietta of France, Si⯑ſter to Louis XIII. of glorious Memory. I mean by this, that he came with ſuch a ſtately and magnificent Equipage, that the like had not been ſeen, of a long time, with an Ambaſſador. He had a permiſſion to bring over with him ſome French-men, who had gone into England after the Revocation of the Edict of Nants, and who never durſt have ventur'd to return afterwards without a Paſs-port. However, Degrez, whom the Court had employ'd to take up Miniſters, and other Per⯑ſons of that Religion, look'd upon this as a fa⯑vourable opportunity for him, and did not fail to make his advantage of it. It being his ordi⯑nary Cuſtom to render every Perſon ſuſpected, in order to make the beſt of his Trade, he upon a certain Day took up one of the Ambaſſador's Miniſters, while he thought of going to ſee one of his Friends, who was an Advocate. It was very happy for this Advocate, that he had been all along a Catholick, for that Quality, and his wiſe Conduct ſhelter'd him from the evil Deſigns of this Kidnapper, whoſe Gain it was to caſt every one in Priſon. He told him freely his Sentiments of ſuch proceedings; for he had no Orders to do what he did then, but it was his ordinary pra⯑ctice, that he might be thought the more Zealous, though all his Zeal conſiſted only in his Intereſt. The Miniſter ask'd him, what it was he accus [...]d him of; and why he made his Priſoner after that manner, he being the Ambaſſador of England ▪s [241] Domeſtick, to whom only he was oblig'd to give an account of his Conduct. It was upon that ſcore that the Advocate exclaim'd againſt Degrez, making him to know, that the Court would never approve of ſuch Proceedings. Degrez found himſelf oblig'd to anſwer all thoſe Demands, which the Advocate back'd with all the Arguments he could invent, telling him, That he engag'd himſelf, as well as the King, in an unwarrant⯑able Action. The Wound that the War had gi⯑ven to France was ſtill bleeding, and Degrez know⯑ing that all this Miſchief was brought upon them by the Ambaſſador's Maſter, he thought he was oblig'd to give him ſome Reaſon for what he had done. He told him that the Miniſter had adminiſtred the Sacrament to one of his Religion, and had ſent for him to that end to the Ambaſ⯑ſador's Houſe, and that being forbid, it was very warrantable for him to take him up, as he did. And thus he was not afraid to declare himſelf Sacrilegious, the better to colour his Deſign. In effect 'tis true, that was prohibited; but 'tis as true that the Miniſter was never guilty of it, and therefore deſired to ſee the Perſon who ac⯑cus'd him. Now Degrez had brought a Fellow along with him to the Advocate's Door, who had indeavour'd to impoſe upon the Clergy-man. For this Raſcal had pretended to be a Proteſtant, and apply'd himſelf to the Miniſter to procure him a Paſs-port for England. The Miniſter was in effect impos'd upon. He believ'd him in good earneſt to be ſome poor Man, whom the Zeal for his Religion oblig'd to quit his Country and Friends; but knowing that was not permitted, he endeavour'd to comfort him, without giving him any other relief. But the Raſcally Fellow had no mind to tell his Maſter that anſwer, or if he had, Degrez pleaded ignorance. However, [242] the Miniſter was ſo exceedingly vex'd at this Calumny, that if his Character had allow'd him to meddle with any of them, he had doubtleſs bang'd the Villain to ſome purpoſe. But that being impracticable, he deſir'd Degrez to cauſe ar⯑reſt him, and told him if he refus'd it, he muſt be anſwerable for it to my Lord Portland, and that the King their Maſter was capable to do him⯑ſelf Juſtice, and he might come to hear of it in a ſhort time. The Advocate added, That he might find it to his diſadvantage. Theſe Expreſſions put the little Gentleman into a fright; he went to Mon⯑ſieur D'Argenſon, to know of him how to be⯑have in the matter. His Officers had always an eye upon the Miniſter after that; but Monſieur D'Argenſon found that the Advocate had advis'd him well, and commanded him to put his advice in Execution. In fine, he was forc'd to ſend his Man to Priſon, and ſet the Miniſter at liberty, according to the Order that Monſieur D'Argenſon had given him. It's certain, this falſe Witneſs de⯑ſerv'd to be hang'd, or at leaſt to be ſent to the Gallies, to teach all thoſe of the like Kidney pru⯑dence upon their own expences. But as the wick'd find favour rather than honeſt Men, whoſe miſ⯑fortune brings them into any inconveniency, they delay'd to proceed againſt him, until my Lord Portland was gone, and then they ſet him at li⯑berty.

All the Court ſhow'd this Ambaſſador ſingular Marks of Honour. The Daup [...]ine, the Duke of Orleans, and all the great Lords of the Court, invited him to Dinner, while he for his part kept a very ſplendid Table. The Count of Auvergne youngeſt Son to the Duke of Bouillon, gave him the uſe of his Lodgings while he ſtay'd at Paris; and himſelf went in the mean time to Holland to [243] his Wife's Eſtate, who died there about that time. This Ambaſſador had at his Entry a hun⯑dred Livery-men, and ſix Coaches, three with eight Horſes, and three with ſix; and continued the ſame Grandeur all the time he ſtay'd at Court. He always made his Viſits with all that Atten⯑dance, to let the World ſee how little he reſem⯑bled a great many of that Quality, who diſcharge three parts of their Equipage the next day after their Entry; ſo that he ſpent almoſt a hundred thouſand Crowns in the two Months that his Em⯑baſſy laſted.

King James paſs'd his time very indifferently all that while. He heard from all hands the Ho⯑nour done to my Lord Portland, which was ſuch as perhaps was never ſhown before to any Am⯑baſſador. This made ſome People believe that there were ſome Alliances on foot betwixt the two Kings, and the more, becauſe my Lord Port⯑land had three or four Private Audiences of his Majeſty. However, while ſome French People ſuſpected, that they thought of dividing Flanders between them two, after the Death of the King of Spain, whoſe Health was very infirm, it came to be known that theſe private Audiences were upon a very different Subject. My Lord Portland inſiſted upon the removing of King James at a farther diſtance from the King's Preſence, promi⯑ſing in his Maſter's Name to give him and the Queen a Penſion ſufficient to excuſe his Majeſty from the Expence he had been at upon that Prince, ſince he had made a Sanctuary of his Dominions. But the King would never give ear to it, which ex⯑ceeded King James's Expectation, who, in caſe the King had abandon'd him, was reſolv'd to retire to Avignion, for he began already to inform him⯑ſelf, [244] if he could live conveniently there. For as the King was oblig'd in Policy to make Peace with his Enemy, though he had promis'd ne⯑ver to make it, until he had reſtor'd him to his Crown, he was afraid that the ſame Policy might alſo induce him to grant what was de⯑manded.

The King of Spain's Malady increaſing every Moment, inſomuch, that it was generally thought he had few days to live, did not only move all the Powers of Europe to delay the Reform of their Troops after the Peace, but likewiſe retarded the Evacuation of ſome Places, which his Majeſty was oblig'd to Surrender. However, the Marquis of Harcourt receiv'd Orders to go with all di [...]i⯑gence to the Court of Madrid with this Inſtruction, that if he ſaw no probability, as in effect there was none, to bring the Succeſſion of his Catho⯑lick Majeſty to fall upon one of the Dauphine's Sons; he ſhould endeavour, at leaſt, to hinder its coming to any of his Imperial Majeſty's Chil⯑dren. For it was to the Emperor and his Deſcen⯑dants, that Philip IV. the preſent King of Spain's Father had left it by his Will. And the Emper [...]r becoming already very powerful by his Conqueſts in Hungary, he was thereby become ſo ſuſpected to his Majeſty, that he was reſolv'd to have re⯑courſe to his Arms, rather than ſuffer it to fall into his Hands. And, accordingly, to fright the Spaniards, he caus'd to file off Sixty thouſand Men to the Frontiers of Italy, Catalonia, and Na⯑varre. He was ſenſible that would add ſome weight to his Ambaſſador's Diſcourſes, and might alſo awaken the Ambition of ſome Grandee of the Country.

[245] The Marquiſs was no ſooner arriv'd in Spain than he apply'd himſelf to buſineſs. He told thoſe, who were capable to act in concert with him in an Affair of ſuch importance, that Phi⯑lip IV. had gone beyond his Power, when he pretended to diſpoſe of his Crown at pleaſure, againſt the Laws of Nature. That it belong'd lawfully to his Daughter's Children, and not to his Relations in the fourth Degree, who could pretend to no Right of themſelves. That the Dau⯑phine had three Sons, and the Duke of Burgun⯑dy's ſecond Brother was ſtill as pliable as wax, whom they could Mould into any Form they pleas'd, and if they would fix their Eye upon him, they might eaſily breed him to their own Cu⯑ſtoms; that if this fail'd, the Prince of Bavaria being Grand ſon to a Daughter of Spain, the King, his Maſter, would rather approve of his Election, than of the Emperor's, or of any of his Children, unleſs they had a mind to follow the Example of the Poles, who to oblige Strangers to agree among themſelves, had twice choſen a So⯑vereign of their own Country. And this was all the King pretended to, conſidering he could not expect to bring the Crown of Spain into his own Family. But the Queen of Spain having a watchful Eye upon the Conduct of this Ambaſſa⯑dor, who made it his buſineſs to renverſe her Deſigns, pry'd narrowly into his Intrigues, and remov'd the King, her Husband, ſome diſtance from Madrid, under pretence that the Air was prejudicial to his Health. She carried him to To⯑ledo, and pretending it was only upon the account of his Health; would allow no body to follow him thither. Nay, ſhe left ſome Miniſters that ſhe confided in at Madrid, in order to receive whatever any of the Ambaſſadors had a mind to [246] offer. The Marquis de Harcourt ſaw clearly with what view the Queen made this Journey, and that ſhe intended to be ſo fully Miſtriſs of the King, her Husband's Inclinations, that ſhe could obtain of him whatever ſhe had a mind to. He fear'd ſhe might prevail with him to confirm Philip IV's Will; and at the ſame time obſerv'd, that the Count de H [...]rrach was no more to be ſeen at Ma⯑drid, and in all probability was gone to Toledo; upon this, he went immediately thither alſo, under pretence of having receiv'd a Memorial (which he forg'd) from the King his Maſter, with poſitive Orders to communicate it to his Catholick Ma⯑jeſty.

The Queen of Spain, who did not in the leaſt expect it, was extreamly ſurpriz'd to ſee him there; and caus'd the King, her Husband, to whom he preſented his Memorial, to acquaint him, That he had left the Cardinal of Corduba at Madrid on purpoſe, to whom he might have communicated his Memo⯑rials, as well as to him; that his principal Inten⯑tion for coming thither, was to recover his Health, and not to trouble himſel [...] with Buſineſs; and therefore he might apply himſelf to the Cardinal in all Affairs of State. However, conſidering that the Memorial was not very long, and that in all appearance it tended to his own advantage, he thought he was oblig'd to anſwer it himſelf. One thing to be conſider'd, is, that the King of Morocco had for a long time beſieg'd the Fortreſs of Ceuta in Barbary, which belong'd to his Catholick Ma⯑jeſty, but could never take it. Nor was the King of Spain in circumſtances to raiſe the Siege, though he had attempted it ſeveral times. In all appea⯑rance theſe [...] did not carry it on very vigorouſly; whether they were ignorant how to [247] carry it on, or that they thought the Conquest the more Glorious after a Siege of ſo many Years. His moſt Chriſtian Majeſty, by this Memorial, of⯑fer'd to the King of Spain, if he pleas'd, to ſend Men of War and Gallies to ſuccour that place. His Catholick Majeſty had enough of his own for ſuch an Enterprize, without being oblig'd to bor⯑row of any other Prince. But he was ſo treache⯑rouſly ſerv'd by him, whom he had entruſted with his Orders, that inſtead of executing them, he deſerted to the Enemies. Nay, he did much worſe, for not being ſatisfied to Renounce his Maſter only, he renounc'd alſo Jeſus Christ, which was eſteem'd ſo great an encouragement for theſe Infidels, that, after that, they thought they had gain'd all. Such an accident, in effect, con⯑founded all the Governors his Catholick Majeſty had upon that Coaſt; and this was the Subject, or ra⯑ther the Pretence of the French Ambaſſador's Me⯑morial. But whether his Catholick Majeſty had no mind to accept of ſuch ſuſpected Succours, or that he thought he could do without them, he thank'd the Ambaſſador for the proffer, obſerving with him, at the ſame time, all the meaſures of Civility, that were proper for the occaſion. However, he who had renounc'd his King and his Faith, beginning to be ſenſible of his fault, and to repent of it, confeſs'd that he was a Chriſtian, and abhorr'd his Apoſtacy. But the Infidels, who had made a great deal of noiſe of his change, expecting to oblige him to return to them by the force of Preſents and Promiſes, indeavour'd to regain him; but ſeeing him continue in his Re⯑pentance, and that there was no poſſibility of bringing him over again to them, they threaten'd to treat him as they uſually do Apoſtates from their Religion, I mean, they threaten'd to Empale [248] him after torturing. But he expected no leſs, and was fully reſolv'd to undergo all, being extream glad to expiate by theſe Torments, the heinous Crime he had committed againſt his God and his King. So being no ways frighten'd by their Me⯑naces, he ſubmitted himſelf very freely to all the Torments they could invent. In [...]ine, in the mid⯑dle of theſe diſmal Torments, he joyfully confeſs'd him whom he had denied: upon which they put him at laſt to Death, leaſt by his Conſtancy ſome amongſt them might be mov'd to acknow⯑ledge, that he ſuffer'd for a good Cauſe, in regard he ſeem'd ſo inſenſible of Pain in his Tor⯑ments.

After this Anſwer, the Marquis of Harcourt was obliged to return to Madrid, and endea⯑vour'd by all means poſſible to gain the People by a very agreeable Conduct; his Wife, the Mar⯑chioneſs, came alſo from France to ſecond him. For having an infinite deal of Wit, ſhe thought to infinuate her ſelf by degrees into the Queen's Affection, and gain her Confidence by the means of ſome Propoſals ſhe believ'd would prove mightily to her Advantage, with regard to her Perſon. It was highly preſumptuous in her to entertain that thought. To be ſure, her Majeſty would be much upon her guard againſt her; for beſides her being the Wife of a M [...]narch, who is a capital Enemy to France, there was not the leaſt appearance ſhe would hearken to any thing that came from that Nation. The Queen of Spain, notwithſtanding her being a German, began to conform her ſelf to a Court, where Trick and Policy are in Vogue as much as in any in the Univerſe, and therefore ſe [...]gn'd preſently to be exceedingly charm'd with the [...], to the [249] end ſhe might the more eaſily know her Secrets. The Marchioneſs told it to her Husband, meaning to perſwade him to rejoyce at it with her: But the Ambaſſador, though he had always been a Man more inclin'd to the Sword than the Court, was yet cunning, and advis'd her always to ſuſpect ſo exceſſive Civility. He told her, it was not natural for the King of Spain's Wife, to be ſo early in a good Correſpondence with the Am⯑baſſador of France's Lady, that it look'd like a Trick among thoſe who knew better than to judge of things by appearance. And therefore all he re⯑commended to her, was to be prudent, that ſhe ought to hear the Queen ſpeak, rather than ſpeak her ſelf, and by theſe means ſhe would cer⯑tainly advance her Affairs much better than by endeavouring to be the Head of the Converſa⯑tion.