Ou t'emporte l'ardeur extreme Where will thy furious Ardor stop, De tout comprendre, et de tout All Things to comprehend and see?

voir?

Tu ne te connois pas toi-meme: And know'st not what thou art L'Esprit echape a son savoir; thyself, Et la Raison imperieuse Thy Mind a Stranger to its Bounds: De la Grace victorieuse Will then imperious Reason dare Veut penetrer la Profondeur! Presume to penetrate the Depths +Paul+, tout rempli de Of all-victorious Grace Divine?

sa Lumiere, Great Paul, in whom its Nous apprend quelle est la maniere Light shone full, Dont elle agit sur notre cur. Explains to us the Manner how Grace operates upon our Hearts.

Je sens en moi que la Nature I feel within, that Nature's self Veut etablir ma Liberte; To fix my Freedom makes Efforts; Elle se plaint, elle murmure, And when her Power is controll'd Quand son pouvoir est dispute. She murmurs inward, and complains.

Mais si j'interroge mon Ame But if my Soul I do but ask Comment une celeste flame Which way a Flame celestial La fait agir, la fait mouvoir; Induces it to act and move; Je crains que cette Ame hautaine I fear this haughty swelling Soul Ne donne a la puissance humaine, To human Power will ascribe Ce qui vient du Divin Pouvoir. That which to Pow'r Divine is due.

Surpris de l'Intervalle immense Astonish'd at the s.p.a.ce immense Qu'on voit de l'Homme au Createur, Betwixt the Creature and Creator, Si je n'admets une Puissance If I do not a Pow'r confess Qui concourt avec son Auteur, Concurring with its Author, Ce n'est plus pour moi qu'un Free Agency, or that Free-will vain t.i.tre, Que le franc, que le libre Arbitre, Of which my Reason so much vaunts, Que ma Raison sais tant vanter: Is but for me an empty Plea: Je ne connois plus de Justice, That Justice I no longer own, Qui recompense et qui punisse, Which doth reward and punish too, Ce qui ne peut rien meriter. What strictly neither can deserve.

Ainsi mon Ame est suspendue Thus is my Soul held in Suspense Entre les Sentimens divers. Betwixt Opinions contrary.

Par-tout ou je porte ma vue, Where-e'er my roving Eyes I turn Je vous des Abimes ouverts. Abysses open to my View.

Pour me garantir du naufrage, For fear of being cast away, Je n'ose quitter le rivage; I dare not quit the Sight of Sh.o.r.e; La crainte a.s.sure mon repos. And 'tis this Fear my Peace secures.

Combien, dans cette Mer profonde, How many, in this Ocean deep, Flottant a la merci de l'onde, Floating at Mercy of the Waves, Se perdent au milieu des flots? Are by those Waves immerg'd and lost!

De tant de disputes fameuses, Let us the dang'rous Tracks avoid Ou nous embarque notre orgueil, Of those Disputes but too well known, Fuyons les Routes dangereuse: In which our Pride engageth us: L'Homme a Lui-meme est un ecueil; Man's to himself a fatal Rock; Dans le petis Monde sensible, For in this little World of ours Est un Dedale imperceptible, There is a Dadalus unseen, Dont nous ignorons les Detours. Whose Windings are to us unknown.

La Foi de notre sort decide: 'Tis Faith our Fortune doth decide, Elle tient le fil qui nous guide; She holds the Thread which Sans elle, nous errons toujours. is our Guide; Or else we always go astray.

Heureux le cur simple Happy that honest docile Heart, et docile, Qui sans raisonner sur la Foi, Which without reas'ning about Faith Respecte dans nos Saints Conciles Our Holy Councils venerates, Le sacre depot de la Foi; The Sacred Guardians of that Faith; Ne franchissant point la Barriere, And dares not climb o'er that Barrier.

Que le Pere de la lumiere Fix'd by the Father of all Light Met aux vains efforts de l'esprit. Against proud Reason's vain Efforts.

A quoi nos soins doivent-ils tendre? To what shou'd our Endeavours tend?

Est-ce a pratiquer, ou comprendre Is it to practice, or comprise Ce que le Ciel nous a prescrit? The Things which Heaven has prescrib'd?

Laissons la Sagesse eternalle Let's to Eternal Wisdom leave Disposer des curs a son gre: The sole Disposal of all Hearts: Il suffit a l'Homme fidelle, The true Believer is content, Que par lui Dieu soit adore. That G.o.d by him shou'd be ador'd.

Qu'importe a ces Docteurs habiles, What do these cunning Doctors gain, Que par des Raisons trop subtiles Who by too subtle Arguments Un Systeme soit combattu? A System strive to overthrow?

Que produit leur haute science, What does their Knowledge great avail, Si Dieu ne met dans la Balance If G.o.d but in the Balance cast Que l'Innocence & la Vertu? Virtue and Innocence to turn the Scale?

It were to be wish'd, that every _Frenchman_ had the same Christian Tranquillity; for then they would not worry one another as they now do, nor would they give such a Scandal to _Europe_. But the Matter is push'd so far, that I don't foresee how a Stop can be put to it. It will be always a Worm preying upon the Vitals of _France_, and a Bone of Contention between the Court and Parliament.

Some Days ago, the Court banish'd the Abbe _Pucelle_, a Counsellor of Parliament. This Man is another _Broussel_, and I believe, he would be overjoy'd, if he could revive the ancient Barricades which were erected during the Minority of _Lewis_ XIV. after the Queen Mother _Anne_ of _Austria_ had caus'd that same _Broussel_ to be put under an Arrest. But as yet there does not appear to be so much Rout about the Abbe _Pucelle_, notwithstanding he made a very great Noise in Parliament. There he spoke like an Angel, and every body said he defended the Liberties of the _Gallican_ Church so well, that n.o.body could do it better. Nevertheless, I am apprehensive, that he will be at a Loss how to vindicate his own Liberty; and I am very much mistaken, if he has not a Lodging at _Vincennes_, or the _Bastile_, before he dies. The Parliament leaves no Stone unturn'd, that he may be recalled; and will do no Business at all, till that dear Brother of theirs is restored. Mean time, all Affairs are at a Stand, by which private Persons are the Sufferers: And yet these very Counsellors, who make a Scruple of Conscience to register an Edict from the King, which infring'd the ancient Privileges of the Parliament, don't care what becomes of poor Widows and Orphans, that languish for the Issue of a Process kept in Suspense by these Domestic Quarrels! In Truth, I cannot but admire the good Nature of the King, and the Moderation of the Cardinal _de Fleury_. I am sure, that the Regent, and the Cardinal _Dubois_, would not have had so much Patience: For the former sent the Parliament to _Pontoise_, and caus'd the Members to be arrested and banish'd for a less Offence; and at the Time too, when the Parliament remonstrated against the Alteration of the Species, in which the Fortune of every _Frenchman_ was concerned. Hitherto all the Representations of the Parliament for the Return of the Abbe _Pucelle_, have been of no Effect; and I fansy, that the first President will be forced to make another Trip to _Compiegne_, where the King has for some Time past resided[79].

A Couplet has lately been made upon the Abbe's Exile: I don't remember the Beginning of it, but it ends thus;

_Que de bonnes gens vont pleurer!_ _Que de filles vont crier_, _Rendez-nous_ Pucelle, _o gai_, _Rendez-nous_ Pucelle!

_i. e._

How do the good Women lament! How do the Daughters cry, Give us back _Pucelle_, Give us back _Pucelle_[80]!

You must allow the _French_ are merry Mortals. Let what will happen, they'll find something or other in it to divert them. Every thing is to them a Subject for a Song; and I remember to have heard of a Ballad they made and sung upon the Plague in _Provence_, in 1720. Mean time, these Jarrings between the Court and Parliament have absolutely effac'd the Memory of the blessed _Paris_. 'Tis true, he began to be out of Vogue, after the Court caus'd the Church-yard of _St. Medard_ to be stopp'd up, where he lies interr'd. If this had been done at first, a great deal of Scandal would have been prevented. I am very sorry I can't stay to see what will be the End of all these Things; but my Affairs call me to _Germany_, whither I propose to set out the first Opportunity; therefore write to me no more at present.

Two Days ago, I saw such a Slur put upon the Charms of a young Lady, that she was thoroughly mortified. 'Twas the Marchioness _de R----_, one of the Ladies of the Bed-chamber. She has been us'd, for a long time, to daub her Face very awkwardly, with a great deal of White, Red, and Patches; but on that Day she out-did herself. She came into the Garden of the _Thuilleries_, on Purpose to be admir'd; for she has the Reputation of a very great Coquette: But she was hooted at by a great many smart Fellows that follow'd her, and gather'd all the Mob about her, so that the poor Lady was glad to retire; and being oblig'd to wait a little for her Coach, was very much hiss'd into the Bargain by those prodigal Puppies the Lacqueys; so that in my Life I never saw a Woman more run down.

The same Night I supped with the Marquis _de L----_, whom I had never seen before. I was told by a certain Lady, That he ow'd his Fortune to an old Woman: For tho' he was a Man of a good Family, yet, being a younger Brother, he was not rich. When he was twenty Years of Age, he pleased the Marchioness _de L----_, who was threescore and ten, to such a Degree, that she offer'd to marry him; and the Marquis, who was then but a plain Gentleman, did not want very much Intreaty to accept the Proposal; for tho' he was a Man of a handsome Presence, he did not presume to think that any young Woman would fall in Love with him, who had one hundred and fifty thousand good Livres a Year to her Fortune, which was what the Marchioness really had to bestow upon whom she pleased. As the two Lovers return'd from the Church of _St. Sulpice_, where they were married, the Marchioness carried her Spouse to her own House; and leading him into an Apartment, _You need not be afraid, Sir_, said she; _don't imagine that I married you to toy with. This is your Apartment; mine is on the other Side of the House. You shall lie here, and I'll lie in my own Chamber. I was willing to make a Man of you, because I took you for a deferring young Fellow: But this I could not do, without taking you to be my Husband; and I had rather it should be said, that I am an old Fool for marrying a young Fellow, than to give any Colour for reporting, that I keep you in Pay. 'Tis more honourable both for you and me, that we are married; for now I can do what I please for you without the Censure of the Public. This, too, is what I have resolv'd on; and as I have no Relations, you may depend upon it, that all I have in the World will be one Day or other your own. All the Acknowledgment I desire of you, is some little Share in your Respect, and I am persuaded you are too much of a Gentleman to use me ill._ Judge you how much the Marquis was surprised, at a Speech which he so little expected. He was ready to fall at the Feet of his Bride, and to give her Proofs of his Ecstasy of Love, when she push'd him from her, and said, _None of these extraordinary Fits, I beseech you, Sir; let us live together like Friends: All the rest is superfluous._ In short, she gave him to understand, 'twas her absolute Determination, that he should never think of her as his Wife. The Marquis was obliged to comply; and after having liv'd thus in perfect Harmony for seven Years, the Lady died, and left her Husband Heir to all her Estate.

The young Fellows undoubtedly stand the best Chance for the great Fortunes. I had Engagements here, when I was but twenty-two Years of Age, with an old Lady too, but she was not altogether to disinterested as the Marchioness _de L----_; for tho' she was kind to me, she obliged me to a great deal of Duty. This Lady of mine was forty Years older than myself; yet what with Patches, and the Red and the White, her Charms were renewed every Day to such a Degree, that 'twas well I was twenty-two Years of Age, or else they would have frightened me. But fourscore thousand Livres a Year, which I always kept in View, made me take that for natural, which was only artificial; insomuch that if I had been put to my Oath, I know not whether I should not have sworn that my superannuated Mistress was but in her Teens. We lived a couple of Years together very lovingly. The Lady happened to have two Sons living, old enough both of 'em, to be my Fathers; yet she did not despair of having another Brood. For this End she proposed Matrimony to me, and I freely consented. But my Sons-in-law _in futuro_, being advertised, by whom I know not, where I had appointed a Meeting with their Mother, came and fell at her Feet, and conjured her not to wrong them and their Children, (for they were both married) by marrying me. The Lady was stagger'd in her Resolution, and was just going to promise her Sons, that she would not have me; when I came to her in the Nick of Time, and so encouraged her by my Presence, that she got the better of her Weakness.

Mean time, the Sons sprung a new Mine, which answered their End. Their Mother was a Coquet, but one of the pious Sort, and devoted that Time to G.o.d, which she did not spend with me, or at her Toilet. The Sons detached a Priest of _St. Sulpice_ to her. The holy Man chose his Opportunity when I was abroad. I did not foresee, that a Blow would come from such a Quarter; or else the _Swiss_, and all her Domestics, being my Creatures, I could easily have kept him out of the House. He discharged his Commission so effectually, that he prevailed to have the Signing of the Marriage Articles, which were to have been executed the very next Day, put off for three Months longer. I was not very much chagrin'd when I heard this News; for I confess, I flatter'd myself, that 'twas not possible for the Lady to escape me. By the Description I have given you of my Sweetheart, you will imagine that I was not over Head and Ears in Love. Whatever Scruple the Priest of _St. Sulpice_ had raised in her, she carried it to me the same as ever: We still liv'd very lovingly together, and I had considerable Presents made to me, which I squandered away as fast as I received. At the same Time, I did not dare to mention any Writings for my Security; and to talk to a Mistress of threescore Years and ten, about making her Last Will and Testament, was, I thought, a strange kind of Courtship, and the Way to spoil all.

Nevertheless, this Misfortune fell upon me, when I least of all expected it. As I went one Morning into my Dear's Chamber, I found her at her Toilet, complaining of a great Pain in her Head. She told me, That she was in a sad Quandary too, because she had invited People to Dinner, but was not in a Condition to keep them Company; and she desired me, therefore, to do them the Honours of her House: But I prevailed with her to send Word to those whom she had invited, that she was ill, and that she should be glad to see them another Time. I then left her, with a Promise to come back and dine with her; and having taken a Walk, I returned accordingly; when I found her dress'd more gay than usual. She told me, that a Dish or two of Coffee had quite remov'd her Head-ach, and that she had trick'd herself up to please me. We din'd together, but she eat very little, and began very soon to complain again; so that I made her lie down upon the Bed, and taking a Book in my Hand, I sat down by her to read, while she rested: But all on a sudden, I felt her lay hold of my Hand, and as I turned about to her, my Mistress gave my Hand a Squeeze, and that Instant expir'd. I called for Help, and both Surgeons and Physicians came, by whose Order she was blooded; but 'twas to no Purpose: For _there's no returning from the Sh.o.r.e of the Dead_.

This Accident so surprized me, that I did not so much as think of securing my own Effects; but went into my Room, and presently I was given to understand, that one of the Sons of the Deceased was come with an Officer to seal up all her Effects. I did not in the least oppose it, nor, indeed, had I any manner of t.i.tle to dispute it. But my Good-nature only made the Son the more insolent; for he even came into my own Apartment, to seal up such Effects as belong'd to me. I told him, that if he did not withdraw, I would make my Servants, and those of the Deceased, who had all a Respect for me, turn him out. During this, the late M. _de N----_, a Counsellor of Parliament, who was very much my Friend, came to see me, who advised me to quit my Quarters with all Speed, and to pack up every Thing that belong'd to me immediately. He also offer'd me Room in his House for my Furniture, and other Effects; which Offer I accepted, and in a few Hours every Thing of mine was clear'd off of the Premises. The Sons, after this, threaten'd to enter an Action against me; but as they had no Proof of any Thing that I ow'd to their Mother, they did not presume to molest me. If I had been of the Temper then, that I am now, I should not have so soon forgot the Loss I suffer'd; for, besides a good She-Friend, which is a rare and precious Thing, I lost the Hopes of a splendid Fortune.

I know not how it came into my Head, to entertain you with my _quondam_ Amours. But 'tis a Vein of Prating which I am indulg'd in, more by you than by any body. Farewel, my Dear, you will hear no more of me about this Country, for I am preparing to quit it the very first Opportunity.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

LETTER XLIV.

_SIR_, _Brussels, June 4, 1732._

When I left _Paris_, I kept on the Pavement all the Way to Chantilly, which may pa.s.s for the finest Seat in the Kingdom, since the great Additions made to it by the Duke of _Bourbon_, who is the Lord of it. The Forest likewise, of _Chantilly_, is as fine as any thing that ever Art and Nature form'd. 'Tis a magnificent Palace, the Stables are stately, and the Park is adorned with the finest Pieces of Water in the World. _Lewis_ XIV, who was always very desirous of being the Master of this House, wanted to purchase it of the late Prince. The latter made Answer to him, That it was at his Service, only he begged him, he would make him the Keeper of it from that Moment. The King perceived, that the Prince resigned it to him with some Reluctance, and therefore spoke no more of it.

The Duke _de Bourbon_, who is certainly the richest Prince in _Europe_, that is not a Sovereign, lives very much at CHANTILLY, since he is no longer in the Ministry. There is always a very numerous Court, and he lives there more like a King, than a Prince of the Blood.

After having walked sufficiently about _Chantilly_, I went and lay at _Senlis_, and next Day arrived in good Time at CAMBRAY, a City famous upon several Accounts; but its Beauty does not answer its Reputation.

_Cambray_, the Capital of the _Cambresis_, was formerly an Imperial City, and its Archbishop was a Sovereign and Prince of the Empire. _France_ having seized _Cambray_, there remains nothing more to the Archbishop, of so many fine Prerogatives, but the empty t.i.tle of a Prince of the Empire; which he still retains, tho' he has no Vote nor Session at the Diet. Since 1712, that I came for the first Time into _France_, the Church of _Cambray_ has had four Archbishops. I then found the See possessed by the Ill.u.s.trious _Francis de Salignac de la Mothe Fenelon_, Preceptor of the late Duke of _Burgundy_, Father of _Lewis_ XV. He had for his Successor _John d'Estrees_; but the latter died before he had taken Possession of the Archbishop.r.i.c.k. The celebrated Cardinal _Dubois_ succeeded to him; but he did not enjoy that Dignity long, for he died at _Versailles_ the 10th of _August_ 1723. The Abbe _de S. Albin_, the natural Son of the Duke of _Orleans_, the Regent, was appointed Archbishop of _Cambray_ at an Age when he had need of Dispensations from _Rome_, to qualify himself for that Dignity.

I think 'twill not be impertinent to make some little mention of the Cardinal _Dubois_, and, perhaps, you will not be sorry to hear a few Particulars of him. In the first Place, these were his t.i.tles; William _Cardinal_ Dubois, _Priest Archbishop and Duke of_ Cambray, _Prince of the Holy Empire, Count of the_ Cambresis, _Abbat of_ St. Just de Nogent _under_ Couffy, _of_ Bourgueil, Airvaux, Cercamps, St. Winoxberg, _and_ St. Bertin _of_ St. Omer; _Princ.i.p.al and Prime Minister, and Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs_; _Great Master and Superintendant General of the Couriers, Posts and Relays of_ France; _one of the forty Members of the_ French _Academy and that of the Belles Lettres_: _And chose by the Prelates and other Deputies at the General a.s.sembly of the Clergy of_ France, _to be their first President_.

The Cardinal _Dubois_ was not of extraordinary Extraction, but was born with great Talents, and an uncommon Genius. He was Preceptor to the Duke of _Orleans_, afterwards Regent of the Kingdom; which was the Reason that the Prince and he were so well acquainted with each other's Thoughts, that the least Sign given by the One, was understood by the other. The Abbat _Dubois_ was employed in the Negociations of Peace in _England_, and at _Utrecht_. When the Duke of _Orleans_ came to be Regent, he sent him to take care of the King's Interests at the Court of King _George_ I. of _Great Britain_; with whom he concluded the famous Treaty of the Quadruple Alliance. When the King came of Age, the Regent being desirous to have a first Minister that he could confide in, chose the Abbat _Dubois_, whom he first made an Archbishop, and then obtain'd a Cardinal's Hat for him. 'Tis said, that the Cardinal was beginning to forget his Obligations to his Benefactor, and thinking to shake off all Submission to him, when he died at _Versailles_, after having enjoyed his splendid Fortune but a few Years. His Illness was of no long Continuance, but very painful. _La Peyrome_, the King's chief Surgeon, made an Operation upon him for a Disorder which the Cardinal's Enemies ascribe to his Incontinence, before he was Archbishop. He dreaded the Operation very much, and was loth to undergo it, tho' the Surgeons a.s.sured him, that nothing else could save his Life. The Duke of _Orleans_, to whom the Minister's Life was dear, made use of his Authority, and obliged the Cardinal to submit to the Operation, which did not answer his Royal Highness's Hopes; for in a few Days after it, his Favourite died. The Eagerness with which the Duke of _Orleans_ seized the Ministry, confirmed the Public in their Opinion, that the Cardinal had entertained a Thought of a.s.serting his own Independency.

The Cardinal was not much lamented; for he was blunt, violent and outrageous; which was not the Way to acquire the Good-will of a Nation, which loves that Decency and Politeness should be kept up in every Thing.

Satire, or, if you please, Calumny, gave it out, that the Cardinal was married at _Tours_, when he was made Archbishop, and that his Wife liv'd in that City; that he gave it in Charge to M. _de Breteuil_, the Intendant of _Tours_, to prevail upon her, if possible, not to discover that she was his Wife; but that she refused to relinquish the Advantage; that thereupon M. _de Breteuil_ sent for the Parish Register where the Marriage was solemnized, and tore out the Leaf in which their Names were entered; and that the Woman was going to make a great Noise, but was threatened with Confinement, and by that Means obliged to be silent.

I will not engage for the Truth of all, or any Part of this Story; but 'tis what the scandalous Chronicle has given out, and what has reach'd even to _Rome_; so that when it was told to the late Pope, with a great many other Pa.s.sages concerning the Cardinal, he was heartily vexed, that he had advanced him to the Purple; and I have been a.s.sured, that it was such a Grief to the Holy Father, that it help'd to shorten his Days.

The d.u.c.h.ess _de F----_ was with the Cardinal one Day, when being in one of his sullen Moods, his Eminency, in plain Terms, bade her _go and pick Violets_. The Lady complaining of him to the Duke of _Orleans_, the Regent, the Prince made Answer, _You are much in the right_, Madame; _the Cardinal_ Dubois _is a Brute, but, nevertheless, he has a good Head-piece_.

This Cardinal made a Compliment of much the same Nature to the Cardinal _de Noailles_, who telling him one Day as he came from an Audience of the Duke of _Orleans_, That the said Prince would not give Ear to his Representations, but bade him _go and ---- himself_, you understand the rest; the Cardinal _Dubois_ made Answer, _And really, Brother, the best Thing your Eminency can do, is to obey_.

These Stories put me in mind of another that was current all over _Paris_, a little after the Cardinal _Dubois_ was advanced to the Purple. The Lacqueys of these two Cardinals happening to be at a certain Place together, they had a Dispute about their Master's Pre-eminency. _Our Master_, said the one, _is the oldest Cardinal, Duke and Peer, and a Commander of the Kings Orders_. The others said, _Ours is a Prince of the Empire, Duke of_ Cambray, _and Prime Minister_. _Ours_, replied the former, _consecrates Bishops; therefore, to be sure, he has the Preference above the Cardinal_ Dubois---- _A very pretty Argument this!_ said one of _Dubois's_ Lacqueys, _Why, if there's any thing in Consecration, my Master is the greater Lord, in that respect too: For yours may consecrate Bishops, but mine consecrates G-d every Day of his Life._ And, indeed; if the Fellow meant his Master's Swearing by all that's Sacred, he was not in the wrong; for the Cardinal had a very bad Habit of Swearing, like any Grenadier.

The Cardinal left no great Estate behind him; and whether it was owing to his Disinterestedness, or to his want of Time to ama.s.s Wealth, his Fortune being but of a short Duration, his Heirs had not much Reason to rejoice at his Death. The Duke of _Orleans_ soon forgot him, and nothing preserved his Memory so long in _France_ itself, but certain Satires and Epitaphs made upon him by the Wits; which might have been transmitted, perhaps, to Posterity, if there had not been too much Gall in them. The Cardinal _Dubois_ lies interr'd in the Church of _St. Honore_, where his Brother was a Canon. This Clergyman set up a Marble Tomb for him, where the Cardinal is represented on his Knees, inclin'd towards the Altar of the Choir, but his Head seems to turn from it; upon which the Critics remark, that he durst not, since his Death, look towards what he had profan'd in his Life.

The Cardinal _Dubois_ obtained in Favour of _Cambray_, that the Congress should be held there for accommodating the Differences between the Emperor and _Spain_. The _French_ made great Boast of this Matter, and vaunted how much it was to the Honour of the Duke of _Orleans_, that all the Powers of _Europe_ should send Amba.s.sadors to him, to submit their Fortunes to his Arbitration. The same Things were said with regard to the Congress of _Soissons_. _They are come_, said the Court-Flatterers, _into our own Country, to desire Peace of us_. They were not so modest as the Allies were heretofore; for when _Lewis_ XIV. sent his Amba.s.sadors to _Aix la Chapelle_, _Nimeguen_, _Ryswic_, _Gertruydenberg_, _Utrecht_, _Rastadt_, &c. we did not say, That the King came to beg a Peace of us; whereas the _French_ always said, _That they gave Peace to Europe_. Be this as it will, they have no very great Reason to boast of the two last Congresses that were held in their Country; which tho' both were opened with a World of Splendor, yet both came to nothing. The Treaty of _Vienna_, concluded the 19th of _April 1725_. O. S. put a Period to the _Cambray_ Congress; the Operations of which, during four Years Continuance, amounted to nothing more than forming fine Rules for the Ceremonial, and the maintaining of a good Order among the Domestics. The Baron _de Ripperda_, afterwards created a Duke and Grandee of _Spain_, and also Prime Minister to their Catholic Majesties, being a Person of great Vivacity, was so tir'd with the Dilatoriness of the Congress of _Cambray_, that he went to _Vienna_, with the Name of the Baron _de Puffenberg_, and established so strict a Friendship betwixt his Master and the Emperor, that the like was never, perhaps, known before between those two Courts, even when the House of _Austria_ possessed the Throne of _Spain_. This very much eclipsed the Glory of the Congress of _Cambray_, and the Congress of _Soissons_ received as great a Check afterwards by the Treaty of _Seville_.

From _Cambray_, I went to Valenciennes, the last Place in _French Flanders_, and one of the most considerable Towns in that Province. The Governor of it is the Prince _de Tingry_, who is the Son of the famous Duke _de Luxembourg_, the Marshal of _France_; whose Honour our Writers have endeavoured to sully, by accusing him of having held a Correspondence with the Devil, and of gaining so many Victories over us by that Means.

The Prince _de Tingry_ distinguished himself very much during the last War, by the Name of the Chevalier _de Luxembourg_. He contributed a great deal to the Support of _Lisle_ when it was besieged, by throwing a Convoy of Powder into it in the Night-time. He is look'd upon by all the Officers, as one of the chief Generals in _France_. Considering his Birth, Merit, Services, and those of his Father too, he ought to have had the Marshal's Staff a long time ago; and 'twas thought he would have been included in the last Promotion, but he happened to be left out[81]. He is now one of the oldest Lieutenant-Generals. I cannot help mentioning his Politeness and Civility, having infinite Reason to acknowledge his Favours to myself.

Mons, the Capital City of _Hainault_, is not so large a City as _Valenciennes_, but I believe has more Gentry in it; and that, if it had a _French_ Garison, would have more Parties of Pleasure. The Duke _d'Aremberg_ is Governor both of this City, and of _Hainault_, of which he is Hereditary Grand Bailiff; but he resides at _Brussels_, and never comes into this Province, except to hold an a.s.sembly of the States. This n.o.bleman is a Sovereign Prince of the Empire, Lieutenant-General and Colonel of a Regiment of Foot, Governor of _Hainault_, and of the City of _Mons_, Knight of the Golden Fleece, and lately a Captain of the Halbardiers of the Emperor's Guard. He was but in his Cradle when he received the Collar of the Order of the Golden Fleece from King _Charles_ II. after his Father had been killed in _Hungary_. He is the only n.o.bleman in all the _Netherlands_, that has recognized the House of _Austria_ alone, for his Sovereign. His Mother, who is the Daughter of the late Marquis _de Grana_, Governor of the _Netherlands_, prevented him from engaging with any other Side, and always rejected the Advantages that were offered to her on the Part of _Philip_ V. After the _Netherlands_ were reduced to the Obedience of their lawful Sovereign, by the Battle of _Ramillies_, the d.u.c.h.ess _d'Aremberg_ and her Son were the first to acknowledge King _Charles_ III. The Son had a _Flemish_ Regiment in that Prince's Service, and was very young when he made his first Campaign under my Lord _Marlborough_. 'Twas under him and Prince _Eugene_ of _Savoy_, that he made all his future Campaigns, wherein he always signalized his Valour, but particularly at the Battle of _Belgrade_. 'Tis certain, that if the Duke had stay'd longer at _Vienna_, he would have had some important Employment long ere now. He has all the Qualities necessary for a good General, and an able Minister, and has every Endowment that renders a Man amiable. The Emperor values him, and Prince _Eugene_ of _Savoy_ lov'd and esteem'd him: But the Duke seems to have no Inclination to improve these Advantages, and prefers the tranquil Pleasures of _Brussels_, to the Tumult of the Court of _Vienna_.

I don't mention the Battle of _Malplaquet_, which was fought in the Neighbourhood of _Mons_; nor the Siege of that City; which, to be sure, have been often repeated in your Ears, and what I have already told you of upon other Occasions.

From _Mons_ to _Brussels_, there's a famous Causey. We pa.s.s thro' _Halle_, whose Church is very much frequented by the Devotees of this Country, and has a miraculous Image of the Holy Virgin, to which the Princes of the House of _Austria_ have made great Presents.