Balzacum hoc tandem dignemur honore.  
Doctarum proemia frontium.  
A NEW COLLECTION OF EPISTLES OF MONS: DE BALZAC.  
BEING THE Fourth and last Volume.  
Newly Translated.  
Non amet hanc Vitam, quisquis me et.  Mar: lib: 1 Ep: ● 
— Magnus es Ardalio  Mart. lib: 2 Ep: 7. 
OXFORD Printed for Francis Bowman Stationer. 1639.  
W. Martial sculps:    

A COLLECTION OF SOME MODERN EPISTLES OF MONSIEUR DE BALZAC. CAREFULLY TRANSLATED OUT OF FRENCH.  
Being the Fourth and last Volume.  Mart. L. 10. Ep. 4. 
Non hîc Centauros, non Gorgonas, Harpyasque Invenies: Hominem pagina nostra sapit.  
OXFORD, Printed by LEONARD LICHFIELD for FRANCIS BOWMAN. MD. C.XXXIX.   

To the READER.  
THe name of Balzac is not confined within the Orb of one Kingdom: his pen hath made him known unto all that pretend to Eloquence and politer Learning: And had his language been more general, his worth had been more known. It is then a duty we owe to Virtue to unfold it, when it is contracted within too narrow limits, and to unlock the cabinet and make it communicable, when it is restrained from that freedom which is part of its essence and nature. Wherefore some of our own, finding that our Author's language was too narrow for the merits of his works, have rendered some pieces of his in English. Nor did their travails fall short of their hopes, but success hath crowned their endeavours. By the encouragement of their auspicious flight abroad, I made Augury touching the fortunes of this fresh piece, which I now expose to the common light, without the countenance and patronage of any great Name, but guarded only with its own fate: It hath a Genius, and carries the name of Balzac in every page, that is enough.  
For know (Reader) that he is Master of the pen in France, 
Pierre Math. Hist. de Hen. 4. Liv. 3.  L'Aigle de l'Eloquence Francoise, as one styles the great Chancellor Du Vair, a touring Eagle, whose strength of wing bears him aloft above the tracts of common flights. I may say of him, with some variation, what Pliny said of Cicero, that of later times, and for his own language, 
L. 7. nat. Hist. c. 30.  solus in toga triumphum meruit, linguaeque lauream, and if the Muses spoke French, they would use no other Dialect, than that of Monsieur de Balzac.  
If thou dost not find the same thread run through all his Letters, think it a piece of his Art, to vary the Idea, & character of his speech according to the quality of his subject. Wherefore we find him sometimes lofty and magnificent, and sometimes grave and moderate: now he is calm and smooth, and anon he thunders and lightens: Here his words fall like hail, and there — 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 
Hom. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  like still and gentle snow, or the silent feet of time. And though they be but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, strictures, and excursions of his pen, yet upon due examination, thou shalt find they be decoctions of purest Rhetoric; and take away Monsieur, & vostre tres-humble, they be so many acquaint Orations, and discourses politic and moral.  
But never did any beauty gain all suffrages, nor any wit a general applause. Our Author in his Hermitage, 
Mart. l. 4. Epig. 32.  like that Bee, entombed in amber,— Dum latuit, luxit: he shined through the veil of obscurity, wherein he involved himself: but some owle-eyes could not brook the splendour of his light, though at such a distance and declination; and he had more Enemies in this solitude to molest him, than the Gout and Stone. It was ever the fate of eminent persons to have Antagonists, and Envy, like the Athenian Ostracism, ever persecutes the best. A testy Friar, under the name of Philarchus, comes out of his cloister, and raiseth the Hue and Cry after him, as an errand Thief, and avoucheth that our Mounsieur here, is but a Mountebank, and a Plagiary, that strutts in borrowed plumes, and makes a great show with the frippery & brokage of other Authors:— pudet haec opprobria, etc. But Balzac found a learned Apologist, to refute these imputations; so that this single encounter grew up into a faction, and the Penmen came so fast into the field, that the Philarkes, and Antiphilarkes divided all France.  
There happened some disgusts between him and Father Garasse a Jesuit, and a man of able parts: But the French King himself did so far tender the studious Repose of Mons. de Balzac, (that by these altercations he might not be discouraged or diverted from greater Designs) He interposed his Authority to make a Reconciliation, and because it makes for the honour of the parties litigant, I have prefixed here the King's Act, and their mutual letters, as I find them at the beginning of Garasse his Some Theologique.  
And now (judicious Reader) Balzac, stands at thy Tribunal, expecting thy doom: He hopes to find more Candour, and better dealings in England, the Region of peace, as he calls it, 
In the 13. letter of this.  than among his own: presuming upon the goodness of his cause, and thy justice, I have adventured something upon thy censure. If thou contractest thy brow, it is no single fate, thou condemnest at once a multitude of Dependants, and Admirers of his virtues, and among them, in an humble distance  
F. B.   

An advertisement of Mons. the KING.  
Understanding of the bad intelligence, which by the unhappiness of the times hath grown between Monsieur de Balzac, and the Author of this book, we could not but partake of the discontents of sundry honourable personages; and judging it very reasonable, that men that continually do good services to the Commonwealth, and from whom it should expect better yet hereafter, should be divided in wills and affections. We have endeavoured to dispel those clouds by the evidence of truth; the business was not very difficult for Us, being we were to deal on the one side, with a Religious man, who by the rule of his profession, takes a glory in despoiling himself of all interests, and to desire the love of all the world; on the other side, with a man of a frank and noble Courage, whose discretion guided him to put a difference between the faults of men, and the unhappiness of the age.  
So that We thought fit, to tie again the knot of friendship, which (by accident) had been untied. It is commonly an easier task to reconcile old friends, than to make new ones. Having then happily effected that business, We thought that good men, who are ever well affected to the sweetness of peace, would gladly receive some authentic testimonies of their good intelligence, and for this purpose, We have got interchangeable letters under their own hands, that confirm the sincerity of their hearts, for to present them to the public, which cannot be distasteful to any, but to those that are pleased with nothing but disorders and contentions.   

JOHANNI LUDOVICO BALZACO. V.C.S.P.  
QVòd ad te jam scribo, (V. C.) mirari desines, si me, ut Religiosum, & tui amantem esse memineris: & animam, puto, 〈◊〉 manum hanc facile agnoveris, sin minus, saltem ignoveris, quod utrinque gestum est. Nonnihil inter nos longi frigoris fuit, seculi potius vitio, quam nostro. Septennium est, fateor, ex quo mutua inter nos Epistolarum missio interrupta cessavit; ex hoc silentio torpor, ex torpore glacies exorta: vel patere suis, ut ad to verbis scribat sapientissimus Hebraeorum Doctor dicatque: 
Eccles. 43.  Christallus gelavit ab aqua: sed nôsti quid rei est Christallus, cui precium facit ipsa fragilitas? vel frangatur, vel indomita glacies benigno tepore solvatur: favent omnia, & tempus, & amicorum vota communium, & imprimis desiderium meum. Nolo retegere quod o diosum est, rixarum inter nos argumenta & fomites; fatalia ista sunt, & dissolvendis amicitiis nata▪ In litibus nullus (ut nôsti) finis est: dum▪  
— Liticulas lis seminat unica plures. Versiculos ad te extemperaneos & rudes mitto, sed scienti loquor & occupationes meas, & Epistolarem in versu formam; nihil enim ab Heroico retinet preter pedes, quos habet formica etia cum homine communes, sed quo plures eò pejores. Tibi uni propè datum est Heroicas gravesque literas condere; soripsit Ovid Heroidas, sed Balzacus Heroicas. Pluribus abstineo, ne quod   

and profess; Among these severe speculations, you shall see some flashes of wit break forth, which will serve to entertain you with much delight; I speak of the French Epistles, for as for his Latin, I reserve them to the judgement of those that do better understand the beauty and delicacy of that language▪ I am content to believe that Cicero never entertained his friends with better grace and contentment▪ nay, that the very close and compacted style, and the strong and vigorous expressions which Brutus found wanting in the writings of that great Orator, are here to be found; But I fear I should detain you too long, from the pleasure of these novel Lectures, if in commending rare Epistles, I should arrest you any longer, in reading this poor one of mine. Indeed (my Lord) for to speak nothing that were unworthy of you; it were requisite, that Mons. de Balzac would lend me some of the graces of his style; or, as he will be ravished with joy, that I have made choice of you to be the Patron of his writings, he would come himself to make the Dedication; It sufficeth me, if my design and undertaking for to perform something that might be acceptable to your Greatness, do not give you any distaste, and that you believe, that I am sincerely  
My Lord Your most humble and most obliged servant JOHN CAMUSAT.   

TO MY LORD the Chancellor.  
My Lord,  
I Have understood of your denial, for the publishing of a Libel, lately framed against me. And though (perhaps) the harm that I should have received thereby, would have been but small, yet my obligation unto you, never ceaseth to be great; and this argueth a special care in you of my tranquillity, not to suffer that any, the least noise should disquiet it. I know not (my Lord) if this be not to handle with too much niceness and tenderness, a man that makes profession of Philosophy; it were enough that public Authority should shelter me from the tempest, without exempting me from the wind and dust, and that it would guard my Retreat from savage beasts, without frighting away the flies also, and such importunate Infects. But (my Lord) the goodness which you reserve for me, extends farther than to ordinary justice. You take not only care for my repose amidst the hurry and tumult of Europe, but you would have the world also show a respect unto my retiredness, and that being sequestered from men. I should be also placed beyond the level and reach of Detraction. Yet this Fiend did pursue S. Hierome even unto the Grotts of Bethlehem, and to the foot of our Saviour's cradle, there she found him (as he relates himself) although he had thought to hide himself. If this insolent Thing had no regard of an admirable sanctity, and a place guarded with Angels, me thinks a vulgar innocence, retired within an ill fortified village, must not expect any favourable treaty. But to pass from common conditions to the learned Tribe; If in all ages, there arose seditious spirits, that rebelled against the Chieftains of Arts and discipline, and if in the memory of our fathers, it was spoken openly at Paris, that Aristotle was a simple Sophister, I think they deal courteously with me in this Country, if they be contented to call me a simple writer. That great blasphemer of the name of Aristotle (my Lord) was D. Ramus, who afterward, though he was a Catholic, was taken for a Huguenot, at the massacre; And indeed, some did believe that God permitted this to come to pass by a just judgement; and that the Tutelar Angel of good Letters, took the pretext of Religion, for to revenge the injuries that were done to Reason. There is one this day alive in Germany, a petty Tyrant in Grammar, an enemy of common and general verities, and an accuser of Cicero; who (not long since) hath put forth some observations, where he prefers a bill against his own Judge, and questions the precedency ever allowed unto that Prince of Latin Antiquity. So that (my Lord) the universal consent of all the world, strengthened by a prescription of 18. centuries of years, is not a sufficient title for to warrant the reputation of that Roman, against the prevaricating quirks of this Barbarian. Indeed, this is a business of no good example, but yet since it is so, and that it doth little avail Virtue, to be consecrated by time, and to be crowned by the people, for to make it inviolable against the practices of some private Humours. There is no reason that I should complain before so many Worthies, that have been so ill entreated themselves, and that I should be had in any consideration, where Aristotle and Cicero are not in safety; an ordinary man should not make moan, for suffering the same destiny, which extraordinary Personages have undergone; and I cannot with modesty, desire or expect from you, that you should reform the world for the love of me; nay, I know (my Lord) that this little disorder, is of some good use in a commonwealth; and it were to be wished, that malice would busy itself thus, about things of small importance, that it might not think of businesses of higher consequence. Those that have hitherto bestowed their pains, in depraving the sense of my words, and in falsifying my works, had (perhaps) ere this time, forged men's Testaments, and minted false coins; And he that now desires from you a privilege, would have stood in need of a Pardon, it may be, if it had not been for me. It is better by far, that injustice should exercise itself upon my books, than that it should vex and implead against all that is good and sacred in a civil society; that unjust men should rather toss and transpose words, invert and pervert periods of speeches, than remove the bounds of lands, or demolish their Neighbours houses; To say the truth, this is the most innocent way that vice can employ itself in, and I believe I have not a little deserved from the commonwealth, for keeping at work these ten years, such an infinite number of idle companions, who (certainly) would have been dangerous Commonwealths-men, if they had not chosen rather to have been ridiculous Censors. It is well, that the heat of their brains, is exhaled out this way, and that their intemperance takes this course; and that to prevent their fury, men give some scope and liberty to their folly. Permit them therefore this exercise (my Lord) they cannot choose but make use of their time, which they will employ far worse, if you do not permit them to employ it thus. Permit giddy Youth to spend their heat and fury upon a senseless subject, and a dead letter, which is not capable either of joy or sorrow. As long as these Pen-fencers only beg the Seal of your Authority, be no niggard of the Prince his grace and favour, and abate something of your wont severity and rigour. If it were anew & unusual thing, it may be, I should be contented to have the first Libel, which branded me with injuries be suppressed, but since there is now a pretty Library of them, I am in a manner well pleased it should swell and increase, and I take a delight to build me a monument with those stones, which Envy hath hurled at me, without doing me harm. I account it no disgrace to be censured by some men, because I account it no credit to be favoured by them: I intent not to canvasse for voices, nor labour a mysterious secret, whereby I may gain the general applause of the world. I have obtained what I desired, (my Lord) if I have obtained your approbation, as being derived from an un-erring principle, and from an Intelligence most perfectly illuminated. God hath bestowed on you, a sovereign judgement, before the King had committed to your hands, his sovereign Justice. And you were most powerful in Reason, before you were so in Authority. I need not have recourse to this, knowing that the other is no way against me, and I estime it more glory to me, to have pleased you, than I would think it satisfaction to have my enemies proscribed by you. Your speeches of me upon every occasion so full of respect, your own portraiture that you bestowed upon me a year ago, for a pledge of your Affection, your imparting to me the riches of your writings, I mean those writings, that were animated with the spirit of the State, and were full of the greatness of your Master, which seemed to me so far to transcend the strength and vigour of this age, and so nearly resembling the Roman Majesty. In a word (my Lord) each moment of that happy afternoon, which I had the honour to pass away within your closet, are privileges, which I do value above that which you denied a Fantasme, or the Successor of Philarchus. I dare not rehearse my other obligations, by which I stand bound unto you. You have herein enjoined me silence, and believe, that your favours would lose something of their purity, if my thanks should still attend them. Nevertheless you must not stifle in me the intentions of an honest man, or smother the conceptions of grateful thoughts; you have debarred me from divulging my acknowledgements, but you shall not debar me from acquitting that secret part of duty, and from being, (at least in my soul) and that while I live  
My Lord Your most humble, most obliged and most thankful servant BALZAC. From Balzac the 1 of july 1637.   

A COLLECTION OF SOME MODERN EPISTLES OF MONSIEUR DE BALZAC.  

LETTER. I. To Monsieur CONRART.  
SIR,  
BEing arrived home but this morning, I could not before the evening frame an answer to your Letter which you honoured me with, and was delivered me at my arrival; it is so full of baits to feed both the eyes and the understanding, that it were impossible I could refrain from reading it more than once. It is so judicious, and withal so passionate, that I cannot think of it without congratulating with my Country that we have seen Philosophers even in our own language, and those Philosophers such as profess goodness as well as wisdom; the time, you see is now past for to satisfy your desire; but though the King by the activity of his courage could not render those remedies unuseful, which you expect from my idle meditations; yet I mean not to act the bold Empiric of Mountebank in your presence. It would argue too much impudence to send any drugs and receipts from a country village to Paris, and to undertake the cure of afflicted minds in a country of good books and great Doctors. Nay I have seen Sir in your own house▪ a Magazine of rare instructions & examples, both printed, and in hand-writing. And Justus Lipsius (had he been your Neighbour) might have made a purchase of a Constantia of a stronger and better temper, than her that he hath bestowed among us. Since then the whole mass and mine is in your own power, I cannot persuade myself that you could have desired those few Grains that I could furnish you with, and that being so rich yourself, you were resolved to exhaust my poor stock too. Taking view from hence at so far distance of the estate and affairs of our Frontiers, I cannot distinctly and clearly bestow my judgement on them. I am content to carry about me the thoughts of an honest man, & to remove from my mind the disgusts of ill success with good hopes. I know Sir, that the fairest kingdoms have suffered the vicissitudes of good and evil; and that the brightest fortune hath some spots & shadows; and knowing this, I cannot think strange of any disasters that may happen, or be surprised with the news of a revolt, or be any thing amazed with losses more than with gains. Flanders I confess is advanced pretty far into Piccardy, and would have given the like alarm to France as France had given it the year before. But it may be, they that plunder it freely to day in the field will be to morrow blocked up in a siege▪ your good Brothers I know will revenge the quarrel, and they that Pillage the Cities of others, will be glad to get them home to save their own habitations against their Ancient subjects. We must then confess that Antiquity hath wisely termed the God of war Communem Martem, that Homer never gave it a fitter Epithet than that. It is certain that it never favours the same cause long. This is a Fugitive in all Armies, and a starter from all parties, sometimes a Guelphe, and sometimes a Gibellin, sometimes wearing the white scarf, and sometimes the red. This is too much Sir concerning Public Affairs. Do me the favour as to send to M: du Moulin the answer that I have made him, the later words thereof will call to your mind those three verses of our Jerusalem.  

Torq. Tasso lafoy Gierusal. Liberata.  Amando in te ciò, etc. 
By loving that in thee, which others fear doth move  
And envious hate, he seems thy virtues to approve:  
And willingly with thee could make a league of love.  I beg of you the good favours of that grand Adversary of the Romanists, but yours above all, since I am with all my soul  
Balzac. 30. Octob. 1636. Sir Your, etc.   

LET. TWO To Monsieur du MOULIN.  
Sir,  
Courtesy never denies respect to any man, and thinks no man's Presents mean but her own. This was it (no doubt) that made You speak of me in such a high strain and set so great a price upon my book, which (indeed) is but the worst part of your Library. I see you will not alter your course, or forget your ancient civility, for the which I am infinitely obliged unto you. And if some men would needs persuade me that at other times you handle me something rudely, yet I cannot believe you do it with a hostile hand; on the contrary, I suppose that in your familiar letters you give a true copy and character of yourself, but in actions of Ceremony, men require another countenance & more studied gravity; otherwise Sir, my nature can bear with my friends, and I am not of so delicate a sense as to complain of petty wrongs which I suffer. Besides, that I do not at all meddle with that science of division which teaches to rent our Saviour's Coat into 1000 pieces, & to implead and cavil against every word of his Testament. This commonly doth rather exasperate men's spirits, than compose affairs, and multiply doubts, instead of increasing charity. If I were put to my choice, I would take a little less of that which puffeth up, and a little more of that which edifieth. Truth is not the purchase of hot blood, or of incensed choler, or a disturbed imagination. The Labyrinths of Logic are not the easiest way to heaven, and ofttimes God hides himself from them that search him with overmuch curiosity. You will avouch (I am sure) all that I say, and this too Sir, that the best quarrels prove nought, and of bad consequence, and that the contentions of Doctors prove the murders of their brethren's souls, if they tend not to the peace of the Church; for my part, I can with other vulgar Christians, but wish for it; but you can with the Worthies of Christian Religion, contribute much towards it, & whensoever you shall preach and teach this, I shall ascribe unto you one of the principal parts of that holy work: But while we expect that this peace be advanced through the grace of God, & that we draw nearer every day one to another, nothing hinders, but that we may maintain innocent commerce, & traffic in things lawful. There is no law rightly interpreted that is repugnant to that of Humanity, & doth not accord with the law of Nations. If our opinions differ, it is not necessary that our affections should disagree; the head and the heart have their several motions, and actions distinct; and moral virtue can reconcile & unite what the intellectual might separate. Love me therefore still if you please, since you may do it lawfully, and I believe also, that I may be without scruple, while I live  
Sir Your; etc. Balzac. March 30. 1636.   

LET. III. To Monsieur L' HUILLIER Counsellor to the King, and Ordinary Mr of his Accounts.  
Sir,  
YOU can make men happy, and procure them Sunshine days, where, & when you please. Let us speak no more of misfortunes: there is nothing here within but prosperity, since the Ordinary hath arrived: and I must recall a language which I have forgotten, since you do restore a passion to me which I had lost. I thought there was no disposition to any joy left in me, yet notwithstanding from a little spark raked up in my bosom, you have kindled such an excess, that I never felt the like; such inebriations of the spirit, and sober transportments Philosophy hath observed in extraordinary successes. There is no way Sir to suppress or keep this joy concealed, & if it be lawful for me to speak it, my heart is so full and▪ high that it mounts up to my face. I am like to lose by it all the gravity and demureness, which I have these many years contracted by my melancholy life. And since there is no apparent cause that might stir such a passion in such a languishing spirit as mine, men may imagine that I paid some Arreres, and that I have received an acquittance patent, but that I call it your letter. They still deceive themselves and take me for another man than I am: for my Interests touch me not so sensibly as my passions do, and Fortune is not so rich as to present me with any thing that might countervail the least pledges of your Amity. The world and I, do not agree in the rate of things that are bestowed & received. That doth estimate them by an Arithmetical, and I by a Moral proportion, according to which, Sir, all your words to me are weighty and precious, because all true; and because Truth cannot be sufficiently estimated in a time when Oracles do fain, when we have reason to mistrust even Faith itself, and when the great Cato should not be taken without caution and security. I do infinitely cherish those speeches of yours, so full of verity, and preserve them as the titles of a possession, which I passionately desired before I went to Paris, and which I account for the greatest business that I did dureing my abode there. In lieu of these, I will forgive Paris for all the unquiet nights, and other mischiefs I suffered there. I complain no more of its impure air, or the jangling of bells, or of the justling and dirt of the streets. And though I could not carry away thence but the bare Idea of your entertainment, yet besides that you defrayed the charges of my journey in it, I can live here (yet awhile) upon your charges, & feed my thoughts a long time with what I have received from your mouth. Yet I know not whether a provident managing of remnants, may make them last always, or whether old Ideas, do not at the last fade and vanish out of the memory, or whether an expired felicity may denominate a man still happy. What ever joy your letter sprang in me, yet (being a mark of your absence) it doth but advertise me, that I am sixscore leagues distant from the Author of my welfare, and that therefore I can receive but imaginary painted satisfaction, and enjoy but foreign pleasures. You cannot represent unto me the happy hovers that I have spent in the closet of Messieurs de Puy, and the fine things that I have heard there, without tacitly upbraiding me with the pensive hours of my solitude, and the gibberish of my Neighbourhood. In truth Sir, if you know it not, I must tell you, that Balzac is the frontier of Barbary. But one day's journey from hence, (Monsieur des Cordes can tell you) the honest Swains do not eat bread, or speak French but upon sundays; The most understanding men there, believe that Prester-Iohn saith Mass; and that the snow in the country of the Moors is black, the most gentle and affable find in an innocent word, the tenth part of a lie; and are offended with the very aspect and silence of a man that passeth by. Are not these the right Antipodes to the lodgings of Monsieur de Thou, and especially of the Gallery, which is not only full of the noblest spoils of Antiquity, and and of Greek and Roman Treasures, but which is (otherwise) inhabited by all the Graces of the present Age, and all the sociable and civil Virtues. Yet notwithstanding these, it might deserve the curiosity of the remotest Nations of the Earth, and invite the inhabitants of Cadiz, and those beyond them, for to see there the great Precedent of Counsels and humane actions, and the grand Doctor of Kings and Commonwealths. But although this famous and learned Head appears not there but by the benefit of paint, yet his memory still keeps its place, and presides in all the Assemblies that happen there. Me thinks, that of Master of the house, He is become the Genius of the place, and inspires all those that speak there, that so they might not speak any thing unworthy of his presence. Indeed this is the cause of my happiness here, that my poor conceptions give you some content, as you would make me believe; and that my adventures in print, have the allowance and approbation of those excellent Brothers, my dear and loving Friends. Now Sir, that I begin to grow sober again, and to recover myself from that ecstasy, which you have cast me into; take good heed, that you make no doubt of the seriousness of my speeches: assure them therefore, if you please, that the favours that I have received from them, are not let fall, into a barren and ungrateful soul, and that it is impossible to honour Them more perfectly than I do. You shall do me the favour also; as to believe, that you never loved a man that could set a higher rate upon your amity, or would be more than I am  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac Nou. 23. 1636.   

LET. IU. To Monsieur the Abbot of BOISROBERT.  
Sir,  
SInce my departure from Paris, I have received two Letters of yours, that is to say, two singular Emblems, or tokens of your goodness: for it is certain, if you be not exposed to the danger of war, you are (at least wise) obnoxious to the cumbrances & molestations of it: and in this plight to have found the leisure to remember me, and to send from the farthest skirts of Piccardy, but a thought as far as Guienne, is a thing that could not be expected, but from a friend that is extremely solicitous of those things that he loves. According to your order, I communicated the news unto my Father, who doth profess himself much obliged unto you for it. We do daily groan for that of peace, and if you send us intelligence of this before Easter, I will answer you with a public thanksgiving, and with the benedictions of all our Arrierban. That Virgin which your Authors call Astrea, was at other times, courted and adored by them (only) of the long gown: now even Gladiators and Pirates think her handsome and comely. I do not see any man of the sword, but doth at some time of the day mislike and beshrew his own trade. I do not know whether this be either the Cowardice of the age, or the Impatience of the Nation, or the fear of poverty and famine presented to their imagination; or (to speak more favourably of the present occasions) a christian tenderness and common sense of humanity; so vehemently doth all the world desire peace, that I think Heaven cannot send a better Present to the Earth. I think that— should be employed upon such a pious occasion, and chosen one of the Agents for Coloigue. If he would bring us that excellent Donative of Heaven, he deserved to enter the Academy in triumph, and that Monsieur the Precedent should make the speech himself: For my part, I should receive him after such a Negotiation with more respect, then if he came from commanding an Army; And to tell you the truth, the pacifique Angels do please me far better than the destroying Angels. Think it not strange Sir, that the desire of glory is not the passion of Villagers; and that dreaming (sometimes) of the Crabbats, I pitch upon the same thought with the Poet: 
Impius haec tam culta novalia Miles habebit?  
— Barbarus has segetes?  These are thoughts which are bred in my rural walk, and which spring from lowness of spirit; into which I am apt to fall, as soon as I have lost the sight of you. Therefore be pleased to take the pains to fortify me from time to time, and to send me some preservatives against the bad news which fly about. These would help to entertain good thoughts, while we expect the conclusion of the Treaty, and make my Neighbours know, that a man cannot be ill informed that maintains intelligence with you, and make them believe, that I am in deed what I profess myself to be, which is  
Sir Your &c. Balzac. 17 Oct. 1616.   

LET. V. To my Lord, the Earl of EXCESTER.  
My Lord,  
HAving not enjoyed my health, or at least having had no leisure at all, since the time that your Letter was delivered me; I could not any sooner render you thanks for the testimonies of your esteem and affection, which you vouchsafed me therein. I will not any way seem to suspect or doubt of a news that makes for me; and I do readily believe, that my works that were sent you from the Queen your Mistress, have been your welcome-home among your friends. But herein, I do acknowledge their good fortune, far beyond my deserts, and the Influences that descend from the Court, beyond all the favours they can receive from a country-village. Those hands so great and powerful, that gave you this small Present, do ennoble whatsoever they touch and are able to effect rarer transmutations, than those which Alchemy boasts of; with their mark, a trivial Fable may pass for▪ Authentic History, and the Nether-Britton should surpass the native Frenchman. I have therefore my Lord, no thought of deserving that Elegy, which I owe to so illustrious a circumstance nor do I mean to glory in the travels, which my book (as you inform me) hath made beyond the Rhine. Your name (being one of its principal ornaments) is that to which I must owe my fame in those climates, and it was upon your recommendation and credit, that all the Courts in the North, and some of their Schools too, have entertained my books. I do here solemnly promise you never to abuse this favour, at least wise, never to write any thing of your Island, that might give any distaste in the reading, and that will not testify particularly of you, that I am most entirely  
My Lord, Your &c. Balzac. Sept. 20. 1636.   

LET. VI To my Lord the Duke de la VALLETTE, Governor & Lieutenant General for the King in GUIENNE.  
My Lord,  
I Do not mean to tempt your valour, it were precipitate rashness to dare it; yet I shall make bold to tell you, that you have no less Art and dexterity in conquering, than in winning men; and that in you, that which entreats & persuades, hath no less efficacy than that which commands and enforceth. It doth nothing avail me to shun the world, the better to enjoy myself in the desert. Three words from your mouth, make me lose all the freedom I enjoy there; and I see myself surprised in that Sanctuary, in which I thought to save myself. I must confess my Lord, that there is no such absolute independence, over which you cannot claim some power; that there is none so discontented and averse that you cannot allure, or so wild and disorderly that you cannot tame. Since you have done me the honour as to write, that you have sent me your heart, I should betray very little skill or judgement in rare and excellent things, if I were not ravished with such a present, and if I did not esteem it above all that ambition can desire, or fortune bestow. It may be, the hearts of Giants were more vast, and less limited by reason, but the hearts of the Heroes were not more noble, or of any other elevation than yours is of; and he that speaks of this, speaks of a place hallowed, and purged from all the vices of this age, and where all the ancient Virtues have taken Sanctuary▪ Lo here, my Lord▪ what gift you have sent; after which, I have nothing to wish for in this world, which I have abandoned, since this is the most pure and refined part of it; in which, goodness cohabits with power, and greatness combines with love▪ To which I must of necessity, stoop and yield; and my heart were more vile, than yours is generous, if I were not  
My Lord Your &c. Balzac jan. 10 1637.   

LET. VII. To Monsieur Drovet, Doctor of Physic.  
Sir,  
YOur sorrow is too accurate, and studied, to be true; and an afflicted person that writes such brave things, hath no great need of any thing of mine to solace him. I will therefore forbear a task▪ which I conceive to be so nedlesse; and will be contented to tell you, that I know how to discover counterfeit sorrows. No man could act a Desperato better than you. Panigarola made not such exclamations when he preached, that there will be signs in the Sun and in the Moon. And it is a pleasure to see you write of the end of the world, of the falling of the stars, and the final ruin of Nature, & all this, upon occasion of my Niece, labouring of a fever. This is to give Virgil the lie, that calls your profession a dumb Science. For indeed, to find so many ornaments & Tropes upon such a vulgar Theme, could not be without having a treasury of words, and without teaching this Mute, Rhetoric. Yet me thinks, you should husband and manage this treasure more thriftily, and have more care, than you had, of the modesty of a poor Maid. Are you not afraid to make her fall into vainglory, and mar all the pains of that good Father that guides her conscience? If I did not furnish her with counter-poison, you would infect her mind, & cast her into a worse malady than that you cured her of. But I have taught her, that there are a sort of Enchanters that bewitch by commending, and that the wanton Courtship of Sirens hath allured many to their ruins, and filled the Seas with frequent shipwrecks. She believes her Glass, & me too, who are more true to her than you, and who (without much difficulty) can rectify her opinion of herself, which you would have strained too high. For my own particular, I cease not to be your debt or for the acquaint extravagances & hyperboles, wherein you express your Affection towards me; and for her part, separating your commendations from her name, and considering them asunder, by themselves, she esteems them as the wealth of a Jeweller's shop, which indeed may delight her eyes, but she finds nothing there that belongs to her. Receive this compliment as from her, if you please, I am merely but her Secretary in this point, and I shall remain  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac. 12. Octob. 1636.   

LET. VIII. To Monsieur DE-BONAIR.  
Sir,  
THE Honourable mention that you were pleased to make of me in your book, is a most singular favour, and I cannot behold myself in so fair a seat without some temptation of vain glory. I know not as yet, whether my testimony be to be admitted or rejected; and whether I be an Apocryphal or Canonical Author; but since you have cited me, it is not lawful for me to doubt any more of the good success of my writings; and after this, I dare claim a place in the noblest Libraries. It is true, I dare not own that Title you bestow on me, of the Genius of Eloquence. Besides, that this would be a wrong to Mercury & Pytho, who have for many ages possessed the Chair, and sweyed the Art of Elocution; it were necessary also that I had the suffrages of all the Preachers and Advocats of the Realm; and you know Sir, that there is none of them so mean, that doth not persuade himself that he is the God of Persuasion, and would very hardly confess a superior. I must not therefore entertain an Elegy which would be challenged from me by two so great Nations, equally terrible and potent, and I am content to be less Prized by you, since I am sure of the same affection; you shall preserve that for me, if you please, since I am willing to give it its true estimation, and to be really  
Sir Your &c. Balzac: 20 Dec. 1635.   

LET. IX. To Monsieur HUGGENS Counsellor and Secretary of the Commands of my Lord the Prince of Orange.  
Sir,  
I Have received with your Letter the Dissertation of Monsieur— in Print; but to write my opinion thereof, would be too dangerous an enterprise. I never mean to doubt of the certainty of his doctrine; and too bad construction was made of me at the beginning of our commerce for to adventure farther in that way. It sufficeth me to confess that I was lost in all probability, had it not been for your protection, since even under that, I could hardly be secure. This is a Buckler that hath been pierced in a thousand places, and (to speak freely) hath served me rather for a show, than defence. My great Adversary (as you call him) would fain have made an example of your poor Suppliant, and showed that he did not either believe that you did love me so dearly, or that he did not much regard the persons whom you so loved. Nevertheless Sir, If I had been of a quarrelsome humour, that matter (perhaps) would not have been so appeased; and men would persuade me, that my person only was injured, my Assertions being as firm & as sound as they were before the battery. But let the field be his, seeing he cannot endure an encounter, that I say not a resistance; and I do willingly yield him all the advantages of this action. He chose rather to take me, then receive my submission, and preferred a trophy before an homage. Nevertheless, I am resolved not to alter my condition or forget my wont civility. Yet I do make a stand at the very same bounds that he hath leapt over, and give respect to that Character, which he hath violated; I speak of your Love and good opinion, which are more precious to me then my writings or my reputation, and which I cannot disesteem wheresoever I meet them. Sir; there will be always in the world Oppressors and men oppressed, & I must be one of the Innocents' that must suffer the persecutions of a Herod. But there is nothing so hard that love cannot digest. I pardon (for your sake) all my injuries and sufferings, withal my heart, & am contented to be ill entreated, as long as I give evidence that I am  
Sir Your, etc. Balzac. 10. Sept. 1636.   

LET. X. To Monsieur de RACAN.  
Sir,  
I Render You thanks for your Shepherdess; with whom I enjoyed such ravishing pleasures that the Voluptuous never enjoy the like, and yet so chaste and honest, that I think not myself bound to make Confession, She hath revived my spirits that were rebated with eager study and tired with distinctions and Syllogisms. I cannot dissemble, I have not this long time Sir, spent a day more happily then when I entertained Her. And if I have thought Her so beautiful in her own simple weeds, & natural habiliments, without the addition of those helps which serve to embellish & adorn; what will it be, when She will appear in the pomp and lustre of the Theatre? and when those things that are of themselves so powerful, will be mended with the help of the voice and the graces of pronunciation? If I thought She were to come forth suddenly in that Equipage, I would strait begin my journey for to be present at that joyful spectacle, and to give you the applause which you do justly deserve. But since you have sent Her me, being yet, warm from the birth, and that She must grow up a while and gather strength in your hands, I hope I shall be time enough at Roche to behold her in her glory. I understand Sir, in the mean while, that there is a great contention between the Ladies about the names of Orante, & Oriana, & that they are more ambitious of the scrip and shepherd's hook then any thing. It lieth in you to do them Justice and satisfy their ambition: yet notwithstanding, if you'll believe me, you must cashier this rural Equipage, and adapte yourself to Crowns and Sceptres. That active and strong Spirit which doth sway you, hath too much vigour for to dwell on weaker Themes; it would break all the furniture of horne-pipes and hau-bois that you should fill it with; moreover, the country and cabin is not the proper sphere of magnificence, and Shepherdesses must not dance to the sound of a Trumpet. I have therefore chosen for you an heroic subject indeed, and worthy the courage and majesty of your style; Which style carrieth all the exactness of rules, and hath been already used with good approbation by the Masters of Antiquity. But the sport is, to see you dispute and contend with them for their own vitory, and to challenge them at the same carreeres & courses that they have gained their glory by. This kind of Imitation is more noble and hardy than Invention itself, and which you are very capable to undertake, However, if you shall stand in need of some aid, I am ready to do the office of a Grammarian, and to give you the literal interpretation of the Texts of such Authors, which you mean to follow, with a resolution to outgo them. I know that herein I shall not betray any great care of their reputation, nor do any good office to any of them. But Sir, there is nothing that I would not do for you, to whom I confess infinite obligations, & will be everlastingly  
Sir, A most humble, etc. Balzac. 3. Sept. 1633.   

LET. XI. To Monsieur de St CHARTRES.  
Sir,  
THe disorders of a crazy, & ruinous body, and the pains I suffer by it, are the eternal hindrances of my devoir: These also shall be (if you please) the ordinary Apologies for my silence. You may believe, that I do not use to make great preparations for to treat with you, in respect of the familiarity we profess each to other; and if I could have rendered you thanks sooner for your courtesies, I would not have saved the expense of a few ragged lines, so long a time. I have received the Translation of your friend, who doth me more honour than I can deserve. I cannot sufficiently acknowledge the pains that he was pleased to take for me, being not ignorant how unpleasing a thing is Dependence. I confess that it is more than a probable argument of a man's love, to submit himself to the fancy of a man that holds no superiority over him. This servitude is irksome, and so heavy a yoke to good wits, that they have seldom borne it as they should; and Victorius observes a number of passages of Aristotle, which Cicero did not understand in his translation. And yet to understand an Author aright is not all: things rendered in another language, must retain the same degree of goodness, (if it be possible) as was in the Original: the strong must not be enfeebled, nor the well attired be devested or clad in rags, nor those that are well mounted be unhorsed, and made to serve on foot. Most Interpreters (indeed) deal with books in that manner, and do violate the laws of sacred hospitality, towards the Persons of the noblest strangers that they meet with. Commonly they write French after the Latin mode, and Latin after the French; & I have seen more Authors stripped and excoriated, than Authors translated. It is by your good favour, that I am not of the number of those Martyrs; but on the contrary, your Friend hath done me many courtesies which I needed, and furnished me with a thousand ornaments which I had not of my own. I am very much obliged unto him in this behalf, and I owe you also much thanks, for the regard you showed to my counsels, preferring them before your first inclinations. Accomplish Sir, that which you have begun, and let us see a Senator worthy the ancient Republic, and the age of genuine and legitimate Romans. In our time, men do bear a great opinion of their eloquence: and a certain Author (whose name I have forgot) talks of the purple of their language, as well as of that of their gowns. I doubt not but you will adorn them: both with the one and the other livery; And that you will make the driest thorns of their perifogging Dialect, look fresh and flourishing again, if you will take the pains to dress and manure them. Monsieur Chapelaine follows my counsel, and thanks me in all his Letters for the friendship contracted between you. Preserve Sir for me that good which I do for others, and think me not unworthy of it, since that I am withal my soul  
Sir. Your &c. Balzac. 4. Nou. 1636.   

LET. XII. To Monsieur BAUDOIN.  
Sir,  
I Received the alarm of your sickness: but your Letter did soon settle and compose my mind; if it be as you write, but an attachment without grief, I believe that I am not bound to keep much ado in bemoaning you; this necessary rest and residence is good for something: it doth (at least) privilege a Philosopher from performing a thousand petty offices, which do distract a Contemplative life, & which a Civil life doth seem to exact from him, that hath the free use of his legs. So that in the state that you are in, you do oblige the Public in despite of you; and doubt not, but divers Nations do bless your Gout, that is the cause of your leisure; since that indeed it doth not handle you rudely, and that I do (as others) reap much profit thereby; I know not whether I ought to call it good or bad, except my own interest should be more considerable, than the liberty of my Friend. Hereupon, I shall consult with my Moral Philosophy, upon that part which treateth of Duties, which you (I am sure) will not have called Offices. You shall understand Sir, in the mean while, that I have received the second impression of my Letters, and that my eyes are not so bad, but that I could espy at the first glance, that which they owe unto your care. I should be uncivil (not to say unknowing) if I did not render you thanks for this favour, and if that my book (having received better order and Oeconomy by your hands) I did not confess that it is you that did bestow upon't it's last graces. We must confess that you are an admirable Chemic to refine that which is gross and drossy in my writings; and that you are a great exterminator of our superfluous characters. But I should have been yet more deeply engaged unto you, if that you had throughly played the Aristarchus, and with that hatchet which is so formidable to SS s, which you deem unuseful, you had hewed off my other faults, as well as that of Orthography. This shall be reserved for another time, and for a work of greater consequence, whereof you shall be the judge, upon condition Sir, that you show no pity or favour in your censures, and that my style undergo all the rigour of your laws, as long as my person be had in consideration, and that I be still  
Your &c. Balzac. 25. Oct. 1636.   

LET. XIII. To Monsieur de COIGNET Gentleman in Ordinary to the most Illustrious Queen of great Britain.  
Sir,  
I Was much discontented that I parted from Paris, without having the honour to bid you Adieu: But it is very difficult to live regularly amidst such confusions, and to be punctual in a time when all things are out of order. I thought I had done much, that I had not forgot myself, being in the place where I was; and that I did put six score leagues of land between Me and john de Werth. Being able to make but a sorry soldier, I thought that no body had any thing to say to me in Picardy, and that the King's Army, would not be the less complete for my absence. Lo now Sir, I am arrived here, this side of the Loire, busy in fortifying, as well as I may, my village with Philosophy; and entrenching myself against the Enemies with good books. If the tempests which threaten the Frontiers of Bayon arrive at us, we must think of another way of safety, and resolve (in any case) to pass the Sea, and go and dwell in that Region of Peace, and that happy climate where your divine Princess reigns. But the good conduct and leading of the King her Brother, and the good Fate of France forbid us to harbour any thoughts of despair; and the opinions of Sages, that expect a calm and serenity after a storm, are far different from the Dialect of the vulgar, that think that all storms are everlasting. It shall be then a visit of compliment (in despite of john de Werth) that I shall perform, and not a voyage of necessity which I must make; and I hope my words shall find no evasion, and that I shall tell you in London that which I say here, that I am entirely  
Sir Your &c. Balzac. 20. Sep. 1636.   

LET. XIV. To Madam DESLOGES.  
Madam,  
TAke it not amiss, that I do much rejoice at your removal from Paris, since that thereby I do regain the glorious beatitude of your neighbourhood, and that I am now but fifteen leagues distant from Virtue retired: Monsieur d'Auvila did confirm this news, whereof I had otherwise an intimation formerly; and he hath farther assured me (Madam) of the good success of your journey, and of your victory in the Chamber of the Edict. Since the guerdon of this conquest lieth in Aunix, I believe it will repent you to have offended the Angoulmois some five years agone. I say it is some pleasure to me to think that you will not digress anymore out of the road in contempt of us; and now shortly will be the time when you will dignify those men with your presence, which do so passionately desire to see you. I am not so presumptuous as to allege here my own wishes. But me thinks (Madam) that the Duke of Rochefoucaut deserves one of your stages; and if it be so, I have reason to hope to be happy in some hours of the two or three days, which you cannot deny to afford Him. I was about to send to you— to learn some news of you: But this excellent Bearer, hath promised me to relate some at his return; and you need not be troubled, in that he did forbear that crude Oration that was provided for you. This is a man (Madam) in whose mouth are Temples and Altars erected for you, and who adores you in every word he speaks; He hath no vulgar conceit of your virtues, and he being also a man of parts, is worthy of that regard you bear to him. I hope he will love me a little for love of you, and that you will do so likewise; and add this favour to the infinite number that I owe you, and which oblige me to be more than any man in the world,  
Madam Your &c. Balzac. 7. Oct. 1636.  
I send you (Madam) the compliment which you desire to see; It was sent ere this, but was not received, because my packet was lost. Since that time, I have never thought of it; but your curiosity finds out things that are lost, and I am so good a Courtier, that none should have seen it beside yourself.   

LET. XV. To my Lord Keeper of the Seals Seguier, since Chancellor of France.  
My Lord,  
IF I had not been advertised that it was my bounden duty to write unto you, I should not have thought it needful so to do. And though I have ruminated as much as any other, upon the choice that the King hath made of your person, I considered it, as one of the felicities of his reign, and as a general influence of favour upon all the world. Calling to mind the definition of Aristotle, that calls Justice the good of another, I thought it not so congruous to congratulate with him that must be the Guardian of the laws, touching a preferment that will put him to a perpetual care and vigilance. But rather to partake in silence of the common felicity of those people that shall wholly rely upon his watchfulness. But my Lord, since custom commands it, and that congratulations from the remotest parts of the Kingdom do post towards you, I should be thought unwotthy of that rank which I hold among your humble servants, if I did not sequester myself from the Crowd to deliver you (apart) some testimony of my joy, and to make you see, that in places of silence & solitude there be not wanting acclamations for you and affections for the Country. I shall therefore make bold to tell you that the joy which seizeth me at this time, is mingled with a kind of vanity; and having accompanied you with my thoughts and eyes even unto the place of your Advancement, I do imagine I have (in some sort) conducted you, whether the judgement of the Prince hath advanced you. Wherefore my Lord in your Promotion, I do rejoice for the good success of my Imagination, & take no small pleasure to see my own Divinations verified. Certainly it is a matter of delight to see a Virtue so laborious & active as yours, brought into the most wide and spacious Career that Fortune could make choice of; and this is a spectacle worthy the sight of Heaven, and of the blessed soul of the late Cato of your race. The importance is, my Lord, that you begin in a very good season, for to continue long; and that you are in the verdure & vigour of your age for to uphold the crazy & decrepit weakness of our State. In this Elevation both of Merit and Dignity, each man will be your Adorer & Votary: But you will give me leave to assure you that none will approach unto you with a purer & more disinteressed Devotion than mine, and that I am without much pomp and flourish, yet in much sincerity  
My Lord, Your &c. Balzac. 1. April 1636.   

LET. XVI. To Monsieur de Morins, Counsellor of the King in the Court of the Edict, at Agen.  
My Lord,  
YOu are noble enough to love a man without any merits, but I were too loose and forlorn if I were so loved, and yet had no sense or regard of it; and yet you have some cause to call me by that bad title; and if Monsieur Girard hath not had a care of his friend's reputation, all circumstances condemn me. It is true that my fault was but the omission of a Compliment, which had slipped out of my memory; & yet I avow to you, that this omission is such a sin that hath (a long time) burdened my conscience, and causeth such gripes and remorse Sir, that except the same goodness that hath showed me favour do grant me a pardon, I cannot make atonement with myself. But I am apt to believe that for the appeasing of my thoughts you will not run the hazard of your former benefits, and that you will by your perseverance add to my obligations. Knowing this moreover, that you are a right Honest man; I must necessarily conclude that you are no Formalist or a man of Ceremony, and that you do not tie yourself to those petty observances & Rites which make the friendship of this Age more perplexed and difficult then sincere. If Yours may be gained or merited by a true and perfect valuation of your worth, I will not be an unfaithful Depositary, beseeching you to believe that I am already as much as any man in the world  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac Feb. 20. 1636.   

LET. XVII. To Monsieur de-Vaugelas Gentleman in Ordinary to Monsieur the King's only Brother.  
Sir,  
I Did read my own thoughts in your Letter; I subscribe unto all that you have writ unto me, & confess that in the Elegy of Monsieur Arnold the Abbot, you do (indeed) but give your friend his due, & lend him never a grain. This is (in truth) a most accomplished man, & who at the age of 22 years, was reputed wise even by the Italians, that lately thought wisdom was their own freehold. He hath with his great knowledge mingled much goodness: the sharpness of his understanding is tempered and allayed by the sweetness of his behaviour, and his modesty doth repress and conceal much of his abilities. He never pardons himself, though he doth bear with all humane infirmities in others; and that Piety which he doth practise, gives respect unto all, but strikes a terror in none. Lo Sir, the testimony which I add unto yours: which I would bestow upon an enemy that deserved it, but would not upon a friend that wanted merit. His knowledge is attended on by other virtues, and it hath furnished him with excellent morality: for without this, it should be solitary and of little use. I tell you nothing of the late experiment I have found of it in your Letter which he wrote unto you: Besides that my best language would be far below my apprehension of if; I know withal too well the power of his Rhetoric to contest with it; since he hath got so many advantages over me, he must needs have that of civility and compliments too; and my silence must not be accounted any more the effect of modesty but of the Eloquence of his Letter. I send it you back because you would have it so, and because you may make some use of it in your Cabinet; but I shall reserve a copy of it under your favour, that it may afford some comfort & relief to my discontents. I have seen the siege of Tyre, the Death of Darius, the Voyage of the Jndians, and I have read them with wonder. All these seem to me so good French and so natural, that it is impossible to pick out any line there, that doth savour of, or show any affinity with Latin, or wherein the original Author hath any advantage above the second. What would you have more Sir, or what sentence can you crave of me? I have but one word to add in commendation of your Travels. The Alexander of Philip was invincible, & that of Vaugelas is inimitable. It is that (to say no more) that will deserve the affection of your incomparable marchioness, and the fair Beavy or Troop that do often assemble at her House. Monsieur— calls Her a choice and resplendent Court, and the great World refined, and reform: and saith, that there is no Tribunal so sovereign that we may not appeal from, unto the Mansion of Ramboûillet. Since I cannot know what kind of work it is that my Stationer shall give you, until this divine Roman Dame shall pass her censure upon it; I dare not as yet, declare myself for a Book which I must not acknowledge, although I have composed it. It sufficeth to tell you, that I had an aim to speak French, and to write some Letters which should not put Her to the trouble of deciphering. I did heartily desire that my Design might take effect; and I should believe I had not gained a little, by the commerce of many years, if what you shall present her with, in my name, may entertain her thoughts for a few hours; the noblest labours of the understanding cannot aspire to a higher bliss than that; Philosophy herself should betray too much presumption to think to take them up wholly and employ them; she cannot claim to be any more than her diversion and by-thought. I shall be very well contented Sir, if I might serve for that purpose handsomely; & I should boast, after this, that I were (though in my absence) very good company. That timorousness that did ever possess me that I could not be so, any other way, and the fear of troubling the serenity of another man's visage by the sullen cloudiness of mine, have made me to refrain from all Feasts and Assemblies, and hindered me from bringing heavy looks to those places which I esteem sacred, & before those eyes which I do revere. So that it is a pure reverence in me, that I abstain from acceptable and delightful conversation, and from the pleasures of those Cabinets that appertain to them only that be happier than I And I do choose rather to adore a far off with awful regard, than be importunately, and saucily familiar. I leave it to you to excuse and justify this timorousness which proceeds from respect, not from a Stoical ferocity. And you will do me a favour, if that while you represent the best part of your friend, you will take the pains to excuse the worst. Whereunto, I do earnestly conjure you, and to believe firmly, that I am  
Sir Your &c. Balzac. 26. Feb. 1636.   

LET. XVIII. To Monsieur de la Motte-Aigron.  
Sir,  
THe Jndian Canes which you sent me were pretty, but you have so embellished them at Rochel, that I doubt me they are not for my turn. They are not made for a private man's use: They are Emblems of sovereign command; & a bolder Orator than I, would render you thanks rather for your Sceptres then your Canes. By what name soever we call them, they are the more precious to me because they came from You, more than for any other consideration; and though you have not made me rich, yet you have made me very glorious. It is a Maxim in Aristotle that Ambition is no more satisfied with benefits received, than Covetousness. But me thinks, he should have added, when it receives from him, from whom it desired to receive: For all sorts of Benefactors do not far oblige those that are ambitious of the better sort only. For my part, I should believe that the Presents of Monsieur— would pollute me, & I would be as much ashamed of his favours as I glory in yours. In truth Sir, I have quitted the Country & am come purposely to the Town to show them. With them, I do sustain my old age with credit, and look as trim as upon solemn days of Ceremony. They serve me both for to support and to adorn▪ for moveables of necessity, and ostentation too. But the worst is, that I have nothing here for to requite so rare a Present, but the shape and lineaments of a vulgar man, and the sad representation of my own visage. As it were very unjust that I should pretend to beauty: so it is a very solecism that Philarchus calls me a Narcissus. But there are always foolish passions, and idle curiosities in the world. My friends at Paris would needs urge me to have my Picture drawn, and I to give them contentment, did yield myself for one half-hour to be transcribed, & granted them this meager delight. Some Copies were sent me: one whereof I bestow upon You, supposing that it will not scare you; & knowing that Affection is a better flatterer yet, than the Painter. This is it that will bear false witness for me to prove me fair, and which will allow me a place in the Class of your Illustrious men. Such a place in your Cabinet, is indeed a high advancement, and which I cannot obtain but by mere favour; But that which you have given me in your heart is no less precious to me, and I think I have good right to the possession, since I am really  
Sir, Your &c. Angoulesme 15. jan. 1637.   

LET. XIX. To Monsieur de BORSTELL.  
Sir,  
I Durst not undertake the great and hazardous voyage, which I did impose upon myself some four years past, without taking leave from our noble Lady. I have therefore sent unto her to beg it, by the man that shall deliver you this Letter; & that shall bring me back (if you please) some directions for my journey, which I beg of you. Being provided of such ammunition, I shall not fear the rigour of February, nor the unconstancy of March, nor the inundations of the Loire, nor the ways of Beausse. I am sure to arrive happily at Paris: where Sir, if you have any business, I can furnish you with a Solicitor, who (though but a sorry one) is very ambitious to do you service. Alte non temo, & humili nonsdegno: I neither fear the high nor disdain the low. You cannot think of any employment that shall not be very welcome to me; and though I love sloth and make a profession of Idleness, yet I will change my inclination, and of a sedentary man become a Currier; Except this, I am commonly desirous of privacy, and never bring into the Assemblies of men but my eyes, and my testimony. There must be Spectators at such times as well as Poets and Actors; and some that must do nothing for the interest and honour of those that act. But to the purpose, Sir; what are become of your Actors of the Low-countreyes. I do verily think that there is no more Holland in the world, and that the sea hath drowned the famousest part of the Earth. There was never such a dearth of news; And the Carthusian Monks do not meditate with more silence, than they do wage war in that Country. If you are more learned than the Gazettes, I pray impart your knowledge by this Bearer, who hath a charge to give you an account of many things, and will acquaint you particularly how far I am  
Sir Your &c. Balzac: 18. Feb. 1636.   

LET. XX. To Monsieur— the Chief Advocate.  
Sir,  
I Am impatient until I can hear of the estate of your health, and learn by the return of my Lackey, whether your legs be better than they were wont. It is no wonder if they bend under the burden of so many brave things which they sustain; and being to carry the counsels of a whole Province, if they be somewhat incommodated with such a weight. Yet I do hope well of the wholesomeness of that Air which you breathe; and that, being out of the reach of that malignant jupiter, (that noisome mildew, I would have said) which over-runnes the hills of Angoulesme, you will have the leisure to travel to your breaches, and fortify yourself against winter. This is a neighbour that doth threaten us upon the Frontiers, and if I can, I will fly from him, as far as afric. But this remedy is something too far. Without undertaking so great a voyage, we will endeavour to make resistance as well as we may; and I am already resolved to use all humane industry, to barricadoe my chamber, and to block up all approaches towards it. If I can maintain it bravely against so terrible an Enemy; I shall account myself no mean Engineer, and shall think my Sconces and Fortifications as regular as those of the Hollanders. After this, this shall be, if you please, the Camp of our riotous discourses and extravagances; of our peaceful disputations, and all other exercises that an honest man may perform in a chair; I do therefore design you for it about mid-November, and remain  
Sir Your &c. Balzac. 18. Oct. 1636.   

LET. XXI. To Monsieur De MAURY.  
Sir,  
YOu have sent me a Present which was extremely dear and welcome to me, and which I must highly prise, both for the manner of sending, and the matter sent; the Affliction which you paint out and emblazon, is so Christian, that all the joy in the world is not able to countervail it; and you complain in such a learned form, that we must forbid men to comfort you, lest you should cease complaining. I am, you know, but a simple French Doctor; yet I do now and then, make excursion into the Latin Country, and take a view of the Frontiers. But this is too little for to know the just value of your Muse, and to give you the commendation that you deserve. You have an ancient Roman near you, that can distinguish between the Native, and the Foreigner; and makes it Religion to confound the modesty of the age of Augustus, with the intemperance of succeeding times. He hath a smack of the primitive Poetry, which the Spaniards had not yet vitiated, and made immodest; and of that pure Latin, which the Declamators had not yet corrupted with nice subtleties. He it is, that can give you ample and just commendation, & can make a just estimate of the riches of your style: For my part, I can but testify unto you my deep apprehension of your courtesies in this behalf, and assure you that I will be while I live  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac. 23. Oct. 1636.   

LET. XXII. To Monsieur De MONDORY.  
Sir,  
YOur Letter was to me an old novelty, and I received it but in the beginning of December, though it had been at my house since August: To unfold this riddle, I must tell you, I am newly returned from a long voyage, and that I found your Letter here at my arrival. You may believe, that the name of a man that is dear unto me, did, at first encounter of my eye affect me with joy; and that it is no small satisfaction and contentment to me, to see that I hold a place in a memory, that is so occupied and fully fraught as yours. This is to lie down among a bed of Roses, when I lie among so many brave Poems, and rare discourses which you contain, is a walking Library. And if it be lawful to tell out the rest; to be the friend of Monsieur de Mondory, is to be a Favourite of a thousand Kings; for indeed you do so lively represent unto us the majesty and magnificence of former ages, that we must confess that your representations, are the glorious Resurrections of those Princes, which you do personate. And things being thus, take it not amiss that in my answer I must contradict you. You cannot compare the bonnet of Herod with that of Mons. the Advocate— without doing some injury to Royal dignity, and avileing their Purple and Diamonds; without doing yourself a bad office, in lessening, and obscuring in me thereby (if you could) the great Idea which I conceived of you, the day that I saw you with that Bonnet. But you may be pleased to humble yourself; you cannot deface or blot out of my memory that first impression and Image of majesty which you there left; and I cannot figure you in my thoughts, but with a commanding accent, and the eloquence of a Master, far transcending that inferior Rhetoric, which works but by entreaties and remonstrances. Yet I speak not this, as though I would always consider you under the name and shape of another; or that I believe, if that you should quit the Theatre, you would be out of all employment in the world. The Letter which you were pleased to write unto me, doth sufficiently witness, that Eloquence is your natural endowment, and that without borrowing from any, you can traffic in very good things of your own. Suspect not then that I should recant to your prejudice, after this new occasion of extolling you. On the contrary, I am ready (if need be) to add something to my former testimony. I have many reasons to respect you, and I think I may do it with the licence of our severest Schools. Since that having reformed the stage, and purged it from all obscenity, you may glory in this, that you have reconciled Comedy with— Pleasure with Virtue. And though for my part I stand in need of recreations, yet since I desire not to enjoy but those that are cleanly and which do not violate honesty, I do (with the common voice) give you thanks for the care you have taken, to provide fit remedies, and Antidotes against Melancholy, and other untoward passions. But farther, calling to mind that you proposed my contentation sometimes, for the end of your action, and that you aimed oftentimes at me alone, I were ungrateful if I did not confess that I am  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac 15. Dec. 1636.   

LET. XXIII. To Monsieur LE. GVAY.  
Sir,  
YOu had an intention to perform an act of Humility, when you did dedicate your Poem to me; for to expect protection from a man that is not reckoned of the world, and light from a name so obscure as mine, you could not (sure) forget yourself in this sort. The same virtue which obligeth the Saints to acknowledge Superiors where ever there are men, hath carried you to this depth of lowliness, and you have chosen an unhappy man, for to bestow honour upon, that you might lose that, which you would fain bestow. I must confess, that no man ever commended his neighbour more Christianlike, and doth more decline the trade of those Mercenaries, who sell their testimonies and credit to any, that have wherewith to requite them. These are Hucksters of Poetry and Rhetoric; that prostitute to the first comers, even those whom you style the Kindred of the Gods & Daughters of jupiter; and make Pegasus a very hackney of commendation, (as I may so say) for all the world. You have a heart of a far better mould than theirs; and though men consider not as they ought, the graces ces and elegancies of your Muse, we must notwithstanding infinitely commend their nobleness and generosity. I confess for my part, that I am a debtor to them as far as any, and that I know not how to requite in any measure, the favours that I have received from them. Yet notwithstanding, I forbear not to load my Porter with a pretty gross▪ bundle; not pretending thus to acquit myself, or thinking that I am hereby less than before  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac. 1. April 1636.   

LET. XXIV. To Monsieur De SILHON, Musqueteer of the King's Company.  
Sir,  
HAving your person in great admiration, I cannot misprise or undervalue your friendship. The fair tokens whereof, which I have received in the Letter, that you were pleased to write unto me, have obliged me so far, that I confess that I owe you already that which you are pleased now to promise me. I will tell you but this, that if Princes could bestow health and virtue, I should be a more sedulous Courtier than I am, and should stand in more need of your testimony and the recommendation of your friend. But truly in the case that I am, my desires are so feeble, and my passions so cold and languid, that I could hardly be persuaded to take up a Crosier, if I found it on the earth. Though Philosophy doth not teach, that we must seek for happiness out of the wheeling Orb of the Court; my own laziness would cause me to apprehend it as a fortune, under whose weight I should perpetually groan and not a place of any ease; and I do less esteem of a place of Government that might cumber me, than a field of liberty that may solace me. If you go any time into Gascony, and do me the honour to take my house in the way, you will verify what I say to you; and avouch, that if I were as well cured of all maladies as that of Ambition, I had not many wishes to commence. It is true that some company (like that of Monsieur your Brother) is wanting unto me; and if this were added to my Hermitage, I durst contend with Jupiter for happiness. This is a speech of Epicurus which Seneca doth allege, but which I do mean to apply better than it was by the Author; since Bread and Bear (which this Philosopher made the two Elements of sovereign Good) are not so rare or so good, as those excellent Instructions and perfect honesty, which I should find and enjoy in the person of my friend. I do charge you to assure him, that I do ever honour and esteem him infinitely, and for your particular, you may believe, that you cannot affect a man that could be more sincerely than I am,  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac. 19 Dec. 1635.   

LET. XXV. To Monsieur De la Fosse.  
Sir,  
YOu judge too seriously of my Recreations & bear too high an opinion of my Essays. It is no Roman Citizen that you thus respect, it is a Barbarian disguised. I have drawn some rude lineaments and misshapen figures, and you would allow them for just works and exact Pieces. Your Eloquence herein doth favour me, but altars me not a whit. You are powerful in language, but I am hard of persuasion; and I have learned from a mous Author, that to give things honourable appellations doth cost us nothing: And I see well that Illustrious & Excellent which you grace me with, do signify (except by way of Civility) but things vulgar and mean. It is true Sir, that I do adventure sometimes to copy out good Originals. I have an eye as much as possibly I may, to ancient examples, and I do scarce seek them beyond Terence or this side Livy. But these are but idle Speculations (perhaps) and impotent desires which leave an infinite space between my abilities and my Idea; if it be so, as I fear it is, Monsieur de Priesac doth heedfully observe this distance & pitieth in his soul the vain attempts & rashness of my pen. Yet he is so good & loving, that he will not, I should learn this distasteful truth from him; and loves rather to commend a fault, then discover it, in a man that is dear to him. He hath written such polite things to me, and in such abundance, that I dare not send forth any reply after his answer, lest I should be undone by so unequal a comparison. I must not attempt this great Design, for the success thereof must needs be unlucky, though I should make use of Auxiliaries and demand succours of all the Latinists of our Province. You shall tell him then, if you please, that I do acknowledge the advantage his style hath over mine, and I think it no disparagement that I must still owe him what I shall never be able to pay him. You are kind enough yet Sir, to assure Monsieur Habert the Abbot, & Monsieur de la Chamber, of the constancy of my service; and how impatient I am, that the world doth not yet know, in what regard I hold their virtues. It sufficeth me that they accept and allow of my affection, and that they testify it unto you with a nod. For to desire Letters & not tickets from them, were to be ignorant of the present condition of their life, and the homage that they perform to our Monarch, who best deserves it. I have received some Verses from Monsieur D' Espesses, and you send me some more of other men's, together with a Letter, which my Servant left to grow stale upon the Table in my chamber. You will do me the favour as to deliver him my Packet, & readily take so much pains for my sake: who will account myself happy to be made your Agent in these parts, and be able to express that none is more entirely  
Sir Your &c. Balzac. 3. jan. 1637.   

LET. XXVI. To Monsieur D' Espesses Counsellor of the King in his Counsel of State.  
Sir,  
YOU make me (truly) to languish, & it is more than four months, since I have expected our Translation: I call it ours, because you made it in my Chamber, and on my paper; and I might call it mine too, by a rule in the Law, which doth adjudge the surface to go along with the profundity; but that I remembered the exception of the Emperor which he adds in favour of excellent Artisans. Nobis contrà videtur, meliùs esse Tabulam▪ cedere Picturae: Ridiculum enim est picturam Apelli● vel Parrhasií in accessionem vilissimae picturae cedere. We must not urge a man that is intent upon more important affairs. Yet when your leisure serves, be pleased to perfect that same Translation, & try if our language can express Terence in that nobleness of style, and the Character of Scipio and Laelius, which the Roman Nation observe to be in it. In the mean time Sir, to have the more colour to demand of you, I send you here a small gift; some Verses which I received lately from one of my friends in England, who doth charge the Muses of the Low-countrieses with the making. You are in some sort interessed in't, seeing they question the credit & truth of an Author who among you, is cried for Indubitable; and seem to thwart your judgement of him, as concerning the certainty of his Testimony. But (in good sooth) the Flemings have reason to require such a scrupulous and punctual truth in our news: They who are the most fabulous Historians of this Age, and for the most part, truck away nothing but Apocryphal Relations. By changing the proper names only in their Verses, we might retort all their Sarcasmes upon them-selves; we could speak truly of their Gazet, what they have falsely written of ours; and tell them farther, that that which they deride so, is well esteemed all over by the most ingenious Nation of the world; It is certain that the fine wits of Rome do admire the acuteness and apposite expressions therein; and Monsieur the Abbot of— upon his return from Italy did assure me, that it was pronounced in the Academy of the Humorists, that each section of the Parisian Gazet was worth a Chapter in Florus, or Valerius Maximus. They are Sir, as you know, Epigrams in prose: and the determination of so famous a Tribunal, is a sufficient Countermure against the assaults of this new Poem. I would desire you to impart it to Monsieur Gaulmim, and some other grave Judges of Latin learning. That we may know the gust of your great world, and what we are to believe in the Provinces. The Description of the Bureau d' Adresse, 
The Custom House in Paris. Lib. 12. M●ta.  seems to me to have been drawn upon the plain, or model, of that Palace which Ovid hath erected to Fame. But you will make us upon this, & all the rest most large and learned Observations; and I do promise myself to receive from you at once, both a Translation and a Commentary. I am perfectly  
Sir Your, etc. Balzac. 25. Nou. 1636.   

LET. XXVII. To the same.  
Sir,  
Since I wrote my Letter, it comes to my head that for a Counter-cuffe to the Gazeta Parisiensis, we might send to the Low-Countrey-men, Historia Hispana, and fill it with Comical sport enough. First we must make it to be the incestuous Offspring of the Giants, begotten upon their own sister Fame, for the high and mighty lies wherewith it doth abuse the credulity of the simple; and (in truth) the natural pride of that Nation which appears, even in the wand'ring Beggar in extremest misery; and those Rhodomontades which to them are so proper and usual, that their very compliments retain a smack of them, are worthy of so Illustrious an Extraction, and to descend in a direct Line from Enceladus and Mimas, and Briareus. This premised Sir, and enriched with your art, I would have this monstrous Issue gain upon the belief of the Jndians & the Cockneyes of Europe, that the beginning of the universal Monarchy promised to Spain will betide just the next year, which is the climacterical year of all other States; that God's will is, that there should be but one Monarch upon earth; & that the Pope himself for his better accommodation, doth mean to resign Rome to him, & exchange it for the Archbishopric of Toledo. That the Battle where the King of Sueden was slain, was the last sigh of dying liberty; that this Prince was no such thing as we took him to be; and for those achievements of his, which we entertained with such wonder, nothing was performed without the help of Magic, by virtue only of some charms, & characters, and the assistance of the Powers of Hell, which at last were found too weak against the House of Austria. That to the end that second causes and humane means might concur with the Design of Providence, foreign affairs do seem to comply of them-selves to this great change. That the King of England is not so brave, but that he would be contented to be a Feudatary of the King of Spain; and if it goes to the worst, that there will not be wanting some Gun-powdermen to make him caper in the air with his whole Realm. That the cinders of the Holy-League, and the remainder of the Huguenot Party begin to flame a new in France by the bellowes and Libels of St Germains; that they have bargained with some secret Engineers, who have undertaken to fortify Rochel in one night. That Duke Charles must be revenged upon Nancy, and that he doth hold Paris already in extremity; that if there be not a Spanish Garrison already in Turin and Casall, there will be one, when it shall seem good to his Catholic Majesty, and when the Dukes of Savoy and Mantua, shall be received into his favour. That he will none of Venice or Amsterdam, because that an Illuminatée of Madrid, and a Sybille of Naples have assured him that the Sea will one day swallow up these two great Cities; and the loss of his Spaniards that should be their Commanders, would be a cause of great grief unto him. That he had long since chastised the Rebels of Holland, if some considerations of state had not hindered him from it. But let him preserve that land of contradiction, for a Fencing-school for his own Subjects, to keep them from idleness, and to breathe them by continual exercise. That for the rest, if the world will not be so easily conquered, he hath in his coffers wherewith to buy it. And hereabouts, this Daughter of Fame and Enceladus her Brother, must raise her tone higher, and outbid her first figure or number; she must with one dash of the pen make more gold, than the Sun can make in a thousand years; she must make the winds labour, and force the Ocean to groan under the new Fleet, which according to her computation, must arrive every month punctually at Lisbon and Seville; she must make a discovery (if needs be) of the third Indies, & find out all the hidden mines there; not those within the Domains of Antichrist excepted, & cause them to be guarded by those evil Spirits, which S. Augustin calls (for this reason) Incubones Thesaurorum, etc. Behold Sir, a rude draught of a work which expects from you its consummation and perfection, which you might soon finish, if your Poetical fancy should once seize you. Here is matter (you see) for an excellent Irony, and wherewith to continue it to a hundred verses and more, though the Comedy did affect you ne'er so little, especially when you shall add form and fashion to the stuff which I present you with, who am  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac. 27. Nou. 1637.   

LET. XXVIII. To Monsieur de Cowrelles.  
Sir,  
I Cannot write unto you but tumultuarily▪ my hands and head are so full of business, that being to take a journey to Paris, I am bound to bid farewell to the Clergy, the Nobility, and the Commons. It is now four years that I have deliberated upon this voyage, and being at last resolved, I am like by your favour to be better accompanied than I did expect, Comes facundus in via, etc. I think I may give this attribute to your Book, after the Elegy which you vouchsafe me therein: and if I had not already taken part and declared myself for the Author of the Flandrian History (who is one of my good Lords and friends) I should have entered blindly into a new faction, which (as it seems) you do abet and patronise; But Sir, you will not take it amiss that I profess constancy, and that this second Author, hath not won my first affection. This evening I shall begin to entertain him, and to taste of those delicacies whereof you were pleased to make an Essay. These will not be painted Cates, I am sure, nor Pageants of good; no nimble juggle and impostures practised upon the eye and imagination, as most part of those things are, that come from that Country. There is no imposture so finely contrived, as to be able to cheat so cautious a judgement as yours. And I will follow you, whether soever you shall please to lead me, (I mean still to except matters of faith) and I believe you will not be offended with such an exception, since the laws of friendship will allow it me, and since I never cease to be most affectionately  
Sir Your &c. Angoulesme March. 8. 1636.   

LET. XXIX. To—  
Sir,  
MY willingness to relieve afflicted men, deserves not the thanks which I have reaped thereby. This is a passion which on my part doth but produce fruitless desires, and which cannot by you be had in any estimation, but out of a superlative nobleness in you. In that I have given harbour to a man that was persecuted, I did but that which the Law of Nations required of me, and what I would not have denied to the misfortunes of an— or a Spaniard. If you take this to mind, and become my debtor, you do assume the interest of all mankind, and acquit the honour of the whole world; for my part, I am twice rewarded for an act, which I thought was sufficiently rewarded in the doing, and for which I expected neither honour nor acknowledgement. You see Sir, that I am not privy to your secrets, and if you were obliged hereby, it was by an innocent and blindly ignorant man. For the Cavalier, touching whom you ask some news; I believe that he hath prevented me, as being unwilling that any other than himself should be the Historian of his adventures. He will (no question) write unto you, what hath happened unto him in the Refectory of the— Fathers, and the notable advantages he hath gotten over a Gladiator of the long gown. I am not troubled a whit that he hath got him some credit in so good a place, and gained the reputation of a man of valour. Yet, I must tell you, that his credit is dearer unto me than my own interest; and that if he have not the mind to dispute, it is not my desire he should turn for my sake. He may be my friend at a cheaper rate▪ and I can content myself with the calmness and tranquillity of his passion, not needing that it should break forth and appear through noise and jangling. Many men (you know) never do a good turn, but that they may have occasion of upbraiding. Poverty is more tolerable than such Creditors; & there are some Patrons of such harsh dispositions, that I would choose persecution before their succours. Upon our first meeting, I will declare myself more particularly to you, and in the mean while, rest  
Sir Your &c. Paris May 3. 1631.   

LET. XXX. To my Lord the Bishop of ANGOULESME, chief Almoner to the Illustrious Queen of great Britain.  
My Lord,  
I Have seen in a Letter that you have written to Monsieur— that my name is not unknown unto you, and that I have some share in your good Graces; this is a favour which I owe to your courtesy only, and I dare not believe, that my more than small deserts, could have acquired me such an inestimable good as that. I cannot justly enjoy it, if you would not admit of that perfect devotion and reverence which I offer you, and which I were bound to pay to your Virtue, though I should never reflect upon your Dignity. You have at first boarding, engaged my observance. It will be (my Lord) an incredible contentment unto me, to enjoy that happy entertainment and discourse which you have done me the honour to promise me. And I am confident, that I shall still depart thence a better man, and more learned, though my inclination be never so untoward, and unapt for good purposes, & my memory never so slippery to retain the impression of fair Ideas. But I begin to fear that your Flock should in the mean while languish for you, and that the interests of France, will cross and oppose themselves against the wishes of our Province. The fear of that was it, that caused me to send to England a Book, which I did heartily desire, I could have presented to you there, together with the Author. He is one of the great Votaries of that great Cardinal Perron your Uncle: He doth celebrate his memory without intermission, and adores his learned Relics. He doth glory in being his ghostly son; and, you will not (I am sure) make any difficulty, to avow this spiritual alliance that is between you and him, being joined with the condition, that he desires to live in all his life-time; which is to be  
My Lord, Your &c. Balzac. 20. Dec. 1636.   

LET. XXXI. To Monsieur De—  
Sir,  
I Write unto you with a heart wounded with sorrow, and make my moan to you, for the sinister opinion, that you have conceived of me, upon the first evil report that was suggested to you concerning me. I thought I had given you a sufficient assurance of the smoothness and plainness of my soul, that you should not have so easily doubted of it, and entertain a belief so injurious to amity, before you had communicated your jealousies to your friends, and made them clear enough. You know Sir, more than any other, that my passions are not close and reserved, but I carry my soul still in my forehead. When I was not as yet, so far your servant as now I am, I did not use much Artifice, and dissimulation to persuade the contrary; and thence you might have deduced an infallible conclusion, that if I had changed my inclination, I would not have deceived you with new protestations of fidelity. I do therefore religiously protest unto you, that honouring you with that zeal as I do, you could not inflict a greater punishment upon me, than the forfeiture of your favours. But moreover, I do swear to you by all that is sacred in the world, that I have committed nothing that might deserve such a cruel punishment. After this me thinks you might be confirmed in the truth, but pardon me if I tell you, you should have been so before; and that I do extremely wonder, that a weak and gross calumny, should quite ruin and deface in your thoughts, the good impressions, which I thought I had left there. I cannot hinder men's misconstructions of me, or bind Interpreters from doing violence, and putting my words upon the rack, to make them depose things which were far from my intentions. Sophisters make use of a true proposition to infer an erroneous conclusion; and Pettifoggers still cite the Law, to authorize their injustice, & yet none will tax Truth to be the cause of Error, or Law the mother of injustice. I cannot warrant, but my own thoughts (which are sound and innocent) not those of my adversaries, which are full of malice and rancour. I am responsable for the things that I have written, and ready withal to maintain them. But all the visions and fancies of men are not in my power. Every man can make a nimble and subtle decipherer of another man's intentions. The same picture, according to several lights and postures, may have several representations; and oftentimes there is a great difference between a Text and the Commentaries, the meaning of the Author and the Criticisms of Grammarians. I said that I knew some strange insufferable humours, and no way fit to possess and sway freeborn men. Therefore I said, that a man, whom I do infinitely esteem and honour was of that humour. Lo here Sir, (not to say half of what I think of it) a conclusion very unworthy a Logician, and which is as far from common, as from my particular sense. Indeed it was not you, that deduced it, yet you should not have entertained it at second hand; and if it did not seem to you to be palpably false, yet you might have demurred a while, and suspected it; you have done yourself wrong and me too, in conceiving so bad a thought of your own merit and my fidelity; in expressing that you have some distrust of yourself, who are of no mean value, and but very little confidence in me, whose freeness is something worth. I have but little skill in fallacies, and a mean Juggler may sometimes gain credit with me▪ nevertheless, I should never have been thus surprised and deluded, and when you have wrote to me in a dozen Letters at least, that you knew some men that wrote pernicious Books, and maintained Heretical Propositions▪ I did not yield to such an imagination that this did reflect upon me; and when you sent a Lackey into this Province, I did not forbear to send you commendations by him. You see that I am stung, and therefore am sensible. If your love were not dear unto me, I could wellenough bear your neglect of me; and if my zeal to you were not strong, I should endeavour to solace myself, after your ill entreating of me. But because I love, I would be requited with love; and I cannot brook to be taxed with a fault, which I thought did not deserve so much as suspicion. Sir, I am upon the point to publish a new Volume of Letters, where there be some which I have written unto you, and others, where I make mention of you, as your virtues did oblige me; and where will be one also, wherein (as some would persuade you) I am injurious to you. How I pray, can all these agree? can I be both your friend and your foe at once? can I blow with the same mouth, both hot and cold? can the literal sense favour you, and the allegorical injure you? can I do you wrong, when I must needs wrong myself? shall I give an occasion of distaste by ambiguous terms, where I must make myself ridiculous by apparent contradictions? This was it Sir, that was suggested to your credulity, and which you did not reject at first acquaintance, as I had reason to expect from your good discretion. These were the false surmises which were brought before you, wherein you found more semblance of truth, then in the sincere protestations which I made to you. I cannot conceive (knowing that you have continued your friendship towards me, and that I too have not lost my reason) how you could imagine, that I intended in a bravery to disengage you, and by those awkward spirits which I had known, I aimed directly at you, and might not design some other as well. I know a great many of the Gascons, and as there be some of them very moderate, so also there be others that are not so. I know some of Provence and Corsica, and I am not ignorant of their natural gentleness; I know some Spaniards, and I know how agreeable is their Yoke with that which they call Castiga-vellacos.  
Lastly you may believe that I have not travelled blindfold, and I had in vain conversed with men, if I had not endeavoured to know them; and yet in this particular, men would fain make all my acquaintance to be terminated in you, and that I have pardoned a thousand Humorists in the world (to whom my proposition might be applied) for to violate you. They surmise, that having an aim to wound some body, I made choice of one of my chiefest friends for my mark; and that I have murmured closely and in dark language, that He is rough and violent, whom I proclaim every where, and with loud accent, so completely wise and noble. I will not cite unto you mean testimonies, for the confirmation of this truth. I can allege My Lord, the Duke of— and My Lord the Count of— of whom is here question made. They know both of them, how far I am your servant, and with what fervency I did maintain your honour, and interests, on a time when occasion was presented. I am willing to believe that your other friends, might serve you in some steed in some other encounters, but in this here, all the whole company (I except no man) was mute. There was not any there, but myself that spoke strenuously in your behalf, concerning those things that did reflect upon you; and the boldness of my affection carried me so far, that the Lords, whom I now named unto you, did give me a public testimony, and professed, (though with a little disgust) that I was too good a friend to make a Courtier of I am therefore something aggrieved at this time, to be requited thus with obloquy, where I thought I had deserved thanks; to have preserved my fidelity inviolable towards you, and now to be accused of treachery; to be the only man in your defence on that occasion, whereof you have cause to boast, and now to be the only man of whom you complain. I do not use to value my services which I perform to my friends, and I am content to stand up for them manfully, without making unto them an account of my prowess. Moreover Sir, this betrays grief, more than presumption, and may be termed defending, rather than upbraiding; These are resentments which accompany innocence that is offended; and which your facility (abused by the malice of another) doth force from my heart against my will. I will not conceal it from you, you have made a deep wound in it, it makes me think in all my dreams of the injustice which I suffer at your hand, & you had utterly lost any friend, that had been less firm than myself, by putting him to such a hazard. Wherefore Sir, for all the revenge that I desire for the injury which I have received, take it not amiss, that I give you this Advice, that you give less credit hereafter to another, and more to yourself; that you would be more jealous of those opinions that you have conceived upon your first acquaintance of a business, and less affected to the rumours of the City, which are not grounded upon any solid foundation. You should consider the place from whence these acquaint News have traveled; weigh the circumstances of the thing, examine by what spirit the accuser was led thereunto: and not examine His person only, and passion, and interests, but also the deservings of the party accused, his manner and behaviour of life, and his former actions: suspend your judgement at leastwise, until time shall give you a more exact and particular information of businesses; otherwise you shall never want disquiet & vexation, and you should thus but feed upon suspicion and distrust, which are very unwholesome viands. Men must not send you relations of whatsoever an undiscreet friend or some rude sturdy servant, or such and such a neighbour shall report unto— they must have more care of the tranquillity of your mind; and likewise for your part, you must not swear unto the testimonies of all the Informers, that have a plot upon your credulity, and take pleasure in the pain and exercise which they put you unto. If you allow an open gate for all tales and suggestions to enter in, they will throng into your house apace, and first come, first heard. To day, they will inform you (and perhaps with specious colours too) that your Privadoes do divulge your secrets; & to morrow that your Domestics do rob and rifle you; and at last that all the world is your enemy, & all private conferences are but conspiracies against you. I conjure you Sir, for your own peace, not to give so much credit to those things which do no way concern Religion, nor to abandon yourself to those Relators, who pretend to dispel melancholy, when they are fit for nothing but to whisper follies into your ears, and to calumniate with a good grace: make a distinction betwixt the fraudulent Arts of Parasites and the freedom of ingenious men; between those that adore Fortune, and those that regard nothing but Virtue. For my part, I declare freely unto you that if Monsieur the— were raised again, and would commit his omnipotency to your hands, I should not do that to regain your favour. what I do now perform in regard of our friendship. At leastwise I should be more stern & stubborn (than I am) in my displeasure, and more obstinate in seeking to you, & less solicitous of the event of my seeking. But I have not yet the skill to comply with the times, and to be still on Fortune's side; I profess such an austere honesty & goodness that is not of the present times. I would take a pleasure to be a companion of my friend in exile, and be his fellow-prisoner, I would run under his Ruin to bear it off, when I could not help him to stand fast & subsist. Your Fortune being so well established as it is, doth not require any such proof and trial of fidelity. But it is certain that you cannot desire of me any experiments of love so hazardous, but I would willingly undergo them with pleasure, for your sake, and testify unto you that I am (beyond comparison) more than all my Informers  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac. 7. june 1633.   

LET. XXXII. To Monsieur de Serizay.  
Sir,  
THere is no way to bear any longer with the contumacy of your silence. I have sent this messenger of purpose to make you speak, and to tell you (though with some distaste to you) that you have lost your memory; & that is no less than the third part of your soul. So that there remain but the Understanding & the Will, wherein I have (perhaps) some nook & seat. You have promised me wonders and performed just nothing; you did owe me a visit immediately after your voyage to Saints, and since that, you might have gone to Rome and come back again. You see here great cause of discontent; nevertheless I am so facile, that if you would but bereave yourself of the pleasures of the Court for three or four days, I would seal you a general Pardon for all that is past, & account you as honest a man as ever I did before. While I expect this reasonable satisfaction which you cannot deny me, be pleased to acquaint my Lord the Duke of Rochefoucaut that Monsieur de Nantes is extremely troubled, that he cannot receive the honour which he would willingly pay him by coming to visit him in these parts. He expects this morning some tidings from my Lord the Duke of Espernon for to render himself where he shall appoint him to find him; and I look upon him as upon a blessing which I expect to lose every moment. If he were not preparing to Mass he would signify unto him his discontents himself, and the earnest desire he hath to make his Son one of the Luminaries of our Church. He finds the business so far advanced, that there will be no great difficulty to effect the rest, and that his Extraction is so happy, that a little cultivation will produce rare & excellent fruits. Do me the favour as to deliver to Monsieur his eldest Son the Panegyricke framed for the King of Sueden, together with the Letter which I wrote the last summer to poor—. This is not to recommend unto him the memory of her: I know that She is infinitely dear unto him: nor to put him into any affright; for men of his sort do apprehend nothing but dishonour. I desire only that he should see that my poor judgement doth sometimes jump with good understandings, and that I had the honour to be his Rival in one passion that he hath harboured. If you do not send me by my Man the Discourse of— garnished with Notes and Commentaries, I shall have a new cause of quarrel; and do not you think that I betake myself to Monsieur— for them, this is an Oracle (indeed) that is always ready to answer, but I fear me, that you have not always devotion enough to consult with him. Adieu Sir, I am absolutely  
Balzac: 30. May. 1633. Your &c.   

LET. XXXIII. To Monsieur Habert, Abbot of Cerizy.  
Sir,  
I Believe that you will not be offended with a petition that this Bearer shall commence unto you in my behalf. Your goodness carrieth you so far as to love your Persecutors; and you have entertained so favourably my first importunities that I stand not now in fear of making motions. If you had given me the repulse at first, you had taught me the Virtue of discretion, & provided better for your own quietness. But the force of example is dangerous: the evil doth suddenly insinuate & grow familiar, and treads oft that way, which it was wont to measure. So that I think that I have now some colour of justice to torment you; and it is habitual unto me to abuse a thing, when I have not found difficulty enough to make me use it with moderation. I shall continue Sir, an importunate Beggar till you forget to be generous: and do not doubt, but I know how to make use of a good so diffusive, and beneficial, as is your Amity. You shall travel to day for the good of my estate, because there is a Council; and to morrow for the good of my soul, because there is a Sermon; that I may acknowledge you my friend, for my spiritual as well as temporal good, and that you may receive my thanks, both in this and the other world. That which you are to pronounce with gracefulness of Action, & cannot well be communicated in writing, hath notwithstanding already given me infinite delight upon paper. I have never seen our Mysteries illustrated with so much light of eloquence, nor Reason so successfully employed in the service of Faith, nor Christian Morality better seasoned, to make it relish well in profane palates. But in this particular, I would fain be less beholding to you, that I might have the more freedom, and be able to assure you (without any supposition of engagement, or sign of acknowledgement) that I admire all your Muses universally, both the politer and the severer ones; both those that can compose Hymns and Anthems, and sing the praises of our Saviour Christ: and those that can resolve Problems, and deal in Christian learning. I bid you good day, and remain with all my soul  
Sir, Your &c. Paris 29. Apr. 1636.   

LET. XXXIV. To Monsieur De GAILLARD.  
Sir,  
BE of good courage, and start not at the opening of my packet; I do assure you beforehand, that it is not my Ghost that talks to you, & that the Letter that I write unto you, doth not come from the other world. The rumour which was scattered concerning my death, hath not killed me; and I am yet, (since it is the pleasure of God) a witness of his works, and an Adorer of his power. I have ere this, received the alarm of the like news; but I am no longer credulous to dreams and presages; my soul doth not labour with those popular infirmities: and I do consent with that Grecian, that all the wishes of enemies, all the imprecations of Poets, and all the false bruits of Fame, are not able to bring on our destiny one hour the sooner. There is a Gentleman in Gascogne, who is Chronicled to have been slain in the Battle of Yury; & he is yet very well notwithstanding, and means to live long. I am Sir, of the same humour too, and confess to you, that I do not much hate my life, though I have little cause to love it. Your Stationers indeed, did not believe this: they have handled me as though I had been dead indeed, and have imagined withal, that they be my rightful Heirs ex ass, having seized upon the first papers of mine that they could meet with. I am something apprehensive of this injury, and it should grieve me if Monsieur— should be the Author of it; because I should then endure it with more impatience yet. To say truth, if this be not to wound & violate (downright) the law of Nations, it is (at least) to deflower and taint it: and you will confess with me, that it could not be pleasing unto me, that the— should be published without ask my consent thereunto. Had it been so, I should not have been (perhaps) very averse, and I should have desired him only to alter something for my sake, and something for his own. For though his understanding be passing good, yet you know well, that our Grammarians do not allow his style for regular; and though their scruples be ill grounded, yet they must be considered. That which I would fain have changed, and where I thought I had some small interest, was one word, which my ancient Enemy had already miserably mangled; and which, (not wanting spirit and life in its natural place) doth resemble those delicate plants, which die as soon as they be transplanted from their own banks. But remedies come now too tardy. I must comfort myself against this, as well as other injuries. This is but dallying to former wrongs; and such pinches should well be borne with, by a man that never useth to complain of Treasons and Assassinates. For your satisfaction Sir, let it suffice that I have a perfect knowledge of your wisdom and Honesty, and that I would trust you with my life, my honour, and my fortunes. If I had had so base a thought as to suspect you in this dealing, I should believe that I were bound to do penance for my suspicion. I know that you are every way virtuous, and my firm friend, as I am very really  
Sir Your &c. Balzac 10. Jan. 1634.   

LET. XXXV. To the same—  
Sir,  
I Have received your incomparable Book: in the which (after a long and tedious perusal) my Grammar could find no construction, nor my Logic common sense. This is not the first time that that poor Wit hath strayed so. He hath been, this long time ridiculous without being facetious, and hath been a laughingstock to the vulgar, and an object of pity to the wise. The late Monsieur— did use to call him the greatest enemy that ever Reason had, between Cales and Bayonne; and said, he was a fool in two sciences, and in four languages. Nevertheless if our friend shall think him worthy of some traces of his pen, let us indulge him that exercise, with this proviso, that he be not violent, and that he put not himself to a heat; that (if it please him) he do not deal seriously with him, or arm himself at all points, against an Adversary that deserves not any encounter but with pins. As for the— you wrong yourself, for to mistrust the moderation of my spirit. In the estate that I have ordered and settled it in, I have less passion than the King of the Stoics; and I must be excited for eight days together, to the cruelty of hating any man whatsoever, for one half an hour. It is not my intention to write against Monsieur— but to discourse with him; and I have not so little wit, but that I can distinguish his person from his cause. He hath obliged me with so good grave, and spoken of me in such high language & sumptuous terms, that I cannot doubt of his respect, or his affection towards me. And he shall likewise see my resentment of it, through the whole file of my Discourse; wherein I am resolved to temper myself so discreetly, that if I persuade him not to my opinion, I shall not make my proceedings odious; and if I do not rest satisfied with what he saith, I shall contradict him but obliquely, and with a kind of Bias, which shall not be distasteful unto him. This will be (perhaps) the first example of modesty, that hath been heard of among the Disputants of this age; and we will demonstrate to those of that side, who talk outrageously in Problems of small importance; that the altercations of honest men are without choler, and that generous enemies live better together then malicious Burghers. For the rest Sir, I desire you to continue the pains that you have begun, & to send me wherewith I may fortify all the Approaches that are liable to assault and battery. I shall fear nothing being strengthened with so powerful succours; and you will justify my cause if it be good, or give it a colour of justice, if it be not so. See what an enterprise it was in you to love me: You could never have conceived a more pernicious design for yourself. It will repent you more than once, and you will renounce at any time (I am sure) the sorry purchase which you have made in the acquaintance of a troublesome man. Nevertheless he is one that is most affectionately  
Sir Your &c. Balzac. 20. March. 1634.   

LET. XXXVI. To Madam DESLOGES.  
Madam,  
IT is now three Months that I have expected Monsieur d' Auvila, that I might be informed of the state of your health: But having lately understood that it is not so currant as I could wish it, and mine being not so firm, that I could adventure upon a journey, I have dispatched one towards you to learn the truth thereof. It will be an incredible ease to my mind, if I find that it was but a false alarm, or that your sickness by this time be overpast. I do hope for one of the two (Madam,) because I do passionately desire it; but I beseech you to believe that it is long of my crazy body that I am no sooner cleared of my fear, and rid of the pain it put me to; and that you do not see me in person in steed of the Messenger that I have sent. He hath in charge to present you with my fine Cuts or small Ingravery, which I have newly received from Paris; I thought meet to send you this dumb visit that it might not oblige you to any compliment that might put you to trouble; you do receive (indeed) more troublesome ones, sometimes; And if the sullenness of my countenance, be an object of bad presage, you will confess that the perpetual silence that doth accompany it, is a great commodity: at leastwise it can never be offensive to you, since it leaves you still at quiet, and demanding no ceremony from you, it must perplex you less than the Antiquities and Originals of La March, and Limousin. Finally Madam, it lieth in you to preserve your bounties for me▪ and maintain me in my possession. I know that Monsieur d' Aillé is of infinite value, and I believe I cannot lose him, since it was you that gave him me; you have too good a hand to do any thing that should not last, and there is no accident that can menace and shake that friendship, whereof virtue is the cause, and you the Mediatrix. I esteem that of this rare Personage as a treasure, and I would be well pleased that he should know by your means, that I admire the Eloquence of his Dogmatic & peaceable Divinity, though I do not subscribe unto the Doctrine of his polemical writings. I most humbly kiss your hand, and remain  
Sir Your &c. Balzac. 16. jan. 1637.   

LET. XXXVII. To Monsieur de—  
Sir,  
TAke pity on a man that hath not the leisure to live, that is always busy and always sickly, whom a thousand griefs seize upon in his chamber, and a thousand persecutions throng upon, from without. Monsieur de— knows it well that I am no dissembler, and will testify unto you (I assure myself) that in the state that I am in, I can but admire those letters, to the which I should frame an answer. I avow unto you Sir, that it cost me some pains to decipher them: But yet I do not complain of my travel, which found most happy success. I have discovered infinite rarities under the riddles of your Scribe, and I did not mistake the Graces, though He had begrimed them all over. I send them back to you, since it is your request▪ and yet notwithstanding I cease not to detain them; my memory is not so unfaithful, but it preserves the better part of your fair compositions, as well as of your excellent conversation. It is certain that this gave me some gusts and appetites, which I never had, before you came hither. I am not good, Sir, but by your goodness, & if I have any degree of holy heat in me, it is neither proper nor natural unto me, I have it from your communication. You are at this day one of those Authors whom I cite still with a grace and an Emphasis: I do arm myself with your reasons against the enemies of Truth, & you are all my French Divinity. What a harvest might be reaped (think you) of devout meditations, and Spiritual Treatises from less seed than are your Discourses and Letters? A man might extract from them more sap and juice then from many quadragesimal Sermons of Spanish Postillers; and were they but a little amplified, they might serve for complete Apologies of Christian doctrine, and solid refutations of unsound Philosophy. Your acquaintance then, is no small purchase, & I owe you more than vulgar thanks for it. But since you desire none other but my edification: instead of minting fastidious compliments for you, I will labour to put your wholesome counsels in practice. I will become a good man if I can, that you may be celebrated in my works, being not contented with words. The curing of a disease doth sufficiently proclaim the sovereignty of the remedy; and it is a far better way to magnify your style by performing actions of virtue, which it doth propose as its end, then to cry out Euge at every period. There is no hopes to go beyond this. Remember me if you please in your Sacrifices, that is, love me effectually, after your way, since I am after mine, and that very sincerely  
Sir, Your, etc. Balzac. 30. Decemb. 1636.   

LET. XXXVIII. To Monsieur Girard, Official of the Church of Angoulesme.  
Sir,  
YOur favours have exhausted my thanks. I cannot choose but acquaint you that I do repossess my old pieces again, and that your Love is still ingenious in obliging those whom you affect. I doubt not but that that Courtesies that I have received from Monsieur de— are the effects of your testimonies of me; & I must ascribe all the contentment that I have received thereby to your preparation and induction. There is no subject so vile and mean but gains price by your estimation. You have found the trick or secret to make objects swell beyond their proportion ad infinitum; and to stamp a man Illustrious, though of a very abject condition. I came to know him by the civilities of—, which are far different from the bravadoes of—. Are not these the most tyrannical Spirits in the world? that should say that I could hinder, that any Books should be written or published, at a hundred leagues distance? that is, that I should maintain an Agent in all the Printing-houses of France, that should prevent the publication of Antiphilarkes. These Messieurs that have handled me in such a sort, that fire and poison would seem to an Italian too gentle tortures to revenge their cruelty, are, at this time, offended (forsooth) that I should be furnished with so much as a buckler, and that I should be offered a Sanctuary. They demand a reason of me why a man, whom I never knew, should take compassion on Innocence oppressed, & could not endure the noise & insolence of their false triumphs. which I should not do neither, dear Friend, if I would give vent & liberty to my grief, & that Nature suffered not in the suppression of so just complaint. And yet I must continue to do her violence & deserve the approbation of Monsieur our Prelate. I beg from you his good favours, and desire you both to believe that I am affectionately  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac. 20. March 1633.   

LET. XXXIX. To the same:—  
Sir,  
IT is not your Will that I solicit, but your Memory. For amidst the press of business of the whole Province, which you do willingly take the charge of, mine happily may slip out of your memory without your fault. The importance is, to commence it with an opinion that it is feasible, and with a resolution to carry it; for if reason be urged timorously, and if a man do not descend straight from generalities to particulars, a thousand journeys unto the— will not be worth one; and we should but take much pains to little purpose. Monsieur de— shall pardon me, if I do not find myself either hardy, or strong enough to undertake the work which he hath done me the honour to design me for; and for such a task, a more peaceable and happy retreat, and a more practised and expert quill than mine, are requisite. I have used my hand and mind to write but toys, & things un-necessary. For the future, I purpose not to write any works of supererogation, but what the Church prescribes, and God doth reckon as meritorious. I am extremely troubled at my Cousin's mischance, and the burning of his Study. He cannot choose but be very sensible of this loss▪ since it was the chiefest part of his wealth, and thereby saw the Issues of his brain perish before his face, without being able to redress it. This must be his comfort, that he is young and laborious, & that Fortune cannot ravish from him those true goods which he is Master of. The loss of a vessel is not valued, if the Pilot be saved; and Captains have been seen to triumph after the loss of many Armies. Miser & nudus Imperator invenit exercitum▪ Our Advocate is more cruel than the War, & more severe than justice: He hath slain in his Letters my Lord the Marshal of— & my Lord the Duke of—, who are yet alive to pardon him. Tell him (if you please) that he do not traffic any more in such news, for he will be reckoned among the fabulous Authors else, and men will tax me for bad intelligence. I know well that he is not surety for the news that flies abroad, but he is answerable for the asseveration wherewith he doth recommend them unto me; and he must talk of something that is not known, or at leastwise with the cautious form of the Poets, when they say, ut fama est, ut perhibent, si credere dignum est. I bid you good even, and remain perfectly  
Sir Your, etc. Balzac. 4. Feb. 1634.   

LET. XL. To the same—  
Sir,  
YOur friend doth not well to take the Alarm, since it is not I that gave it him. I was never used to promise but with an intention to perform; & those that have sovereign power over me, have not power enough to make me falsify my word. As for those idle Contemplators that talk according to their fancy, concerning the occasion of my Voyage; I do not think it any part of their office to render an account of my actions; I ever thought that the liberty of going & coming was tolerated as lawful in this Kingdom; and when a man departed out of Paris, he was not bound to publish a Manifesto, to make it known to all the world. It is not without reason that Monsieur de Silhon doth much esteem the eloquence of Maffaeus. The late Monsieur Scaliger, who was none of the best friends the Jesuits had, did so before him; and see here one trace of his pen concerning it, in one of his Letters. Maffaeus ille quisquis est vir eloquentissimus est, ambitiosae tamen magis quam castigatae facundiae. He commends him (you see) though not without exception, yet in my judgement without envy; since in this particular the most Intelligent of the Society concur with him in the same opinion, & namely the Historiographer of the Low-countrey-warres, who in his Dialogues, speaks of him thus; though it be in the person of another: Miratus sum florem & numeros Orationis. Dixi Scriptorem mihi videri non huius aevi, sed è veteri illo Ordine & quidem Patricio Historicorum. Nihil uspiam incultum neglectumque; concinna perfectaque omnia; nisi fortè eo peccat, quòd nihil peccat, nam & ingenium Scriptoris anxium apparet interdum, & dictio videtur exquisita adsonum, eumque simili modulatione crebrò fusum. Quare monui ut orationis culturam saepius libentiusque dissimularet, nec verba ita trajiceret quasi complementa numerorum. I am yet in the same state, that you left me in at parting, but that I have still the same malady though not the same consolation. My Ague visits me every night, though (indeed) not in the same pomp and ceremony as it used, when its accesses were regular. But yet, it doth still handle me rudely, and I do much fear the consequence of this custom. Come Sir, and exorcise this evil spirit out of my body, by the infusion of some mirth into my mind, & think not that I can receive any true joy, being so far distant from you. I am  
Sir Your &c. Balzac. 7. Apr. 1634.   

LET. XLI. To the same—  
Sir,  
SInce it is impossible to withstand it, I have sent you the Letter, that you desired to see. But you shall read it (if you please) to your own ears only, that it may not awake Envy. And that some Philarchus do not overhear you. Lo here withal, the three lines of Cardinal Bentivolio's Letter, which you did so often demand of me, and which I can no longer deny you without incivility. Di nuovo prego V. S ria a ' ringratiar, etc. I do again entreat you to thanke Monsieur Balzac in my name, and by the same opportunity to make him an ample testimony of my great affection towards his deserts; & tell him this withal, that no pen doth more discourage me then his, for I see too well how far it doth surpass mine. I must confess that in this particular, to do me grace he hath been unjust to himself, and that the same motion of humility that prompts Princes of his rank and parentage to wash poor men's feet, hath moved him to use me so respectfully▪ Neither do I pretend to take a pride in it; but yet I think, it will not be denied, but that I may derive some comfort from it. And (indeed) it seems that the goodness of this brave Worthy, would needs make me amends for the malice of my Adversaries. These few lines do weigh down the swelling Volumes of my Opponents, and I shall use no other refutation of all that hath, or shall be written against me. For the present Sir, I am not of that man's opinion who censures that passage, La noire mere des estoiles; the Poet that so styles the Night, is not so bold & rash as the Grammarian supposeth, that reprehends him. And if this be as he saith, a 
* A Dialect spoken in Gascoigne different from the French and of near affinity with the Baskish language which is spoken in Biscay.  Gasconisme, Tibullus was a Gascon when he said, 
Ludite, jam Nox jungit equos: currumque sequuntur  
Matris lascivo sydera fulvachoro.  The Night there is mother of the stars; as in another Poet the Nurse of them. 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Nox, aureorum furva nutrix syderum.  Our Man writes to me oft enough, but he puts me to hereafter in all his Letters; & doth ever promise what he never performs. Nevertheless I do believe, that He will certify me by the first Post touching the event of that business which makes you so anxious, and I will not fail to impart unto you the news, as soon as ever the Carrier bringeth them. I am  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac: 20. july. 1632.   

LET. XLII. To Madamoisell de CAMPAGNOLE.  
My dear Niece,  
YOu did not well, that you did not keep that floury Chaplet, which I had the favour to receive from your Lackey; the winter would not have budded but for you, and by consequence you should have better valued this favour, and managed your Roses more sparingly. They should have been bestowed about your temples, for an honour to its pregnancy, and not have been bestowed on an Hermit: for this were to hide a miracle. I see well your drift herein, you would needs be liberal in a time of scarcity; and lose your own right, that you might please my passion with something; which is so much affected with true and lively flowers: Which I do term so, because the other, which men do so much esteem, having not any odour which animates, are in my judgement but fair pictures, or specious carcases. But I beseech you to resolve me one scruple that doth trouble me; and ease me of my perplexity. Tell me, was this because there be some already, or because there be some yet left? are these remainders, or forerunners? was it the last spring that was tardy, or the new that is hasty and forward? lo here a Problem worthy to be discussed by the Philosophers of your Sex, and it would not be amiss to propose it to Her whom you speak of, for to have her resolution. I profess, that if she be very expert, she is a very dissembler, for I could never discover her to this hour. She hath such a heavy dull apprehension, that a man had need interpret twice or thrice over what ever he speaks to her. It were easier to converse with a deaf woman, and I would choose rather to make myself understood by a Cornet, then to be my own Interpreter. Yet if this stupidity be without malice, it is more tolerable than malicious cunning God permits himself to be entreated, (sometimes) by a simple thumping of the breast, and often rejects eloquent and loud prayers. It is a miserable light, that, whose glory and lustre flows from vice only, and yet is not offensive to great men. A good Beast is of more worth than a bad Angel. This is the upshot of all (my dear Niece) that you must lay a foundation of Bounty, upon which it is allowed you to raise a Structure of other virtues, that are more high, and more glorious. You did not stand in need of this lesson, but I would needs fill up my paper, before I would put a period, and tell you that I am  
Balzac. 15. Dec. 1637. Your &c.   

LET. XLIII. To Monsieur the Abbot of Bois-Robert.  
Sir,  
THe world is full of darstardly friends, but you are none of this world. You can love dareingly and resolutely; and I see that my injuries are (commonly) more apprehended by you, then by myself; nevertheless I am much vexed with the language which you received from Messieurs the— These are men, that do understand too well the points of honour, for to give me any satisfaction; and for my part, I carry so much goodness about me, as to demand nothing from them but my life. I never believed that their Superior had promised me nothing. If he hath left them no other debts to pay but this, they have great cause to commend him for his good providence and thrift. In the mean while, I cannot dissemble my sorrow to you for his death, nor forget to tell you, that in all his ill carriages towards me, he hath never done me a greater affront than this, to dye. If I had had some particular Revelation concerning it, or if he had advertised me thereof by the Spirit of Prophecy, which is spoken of in his Elegy, he should have seen his prating long since condemned, and should not have carried away into the other world, that great opinion of sufficiency, which his Fraternity did soothe him with. For the other extravagant Doctor, which you mention, it would not be acceptable to God almighty, that I should undertake his reformation; it were needful to create him anew, for to amend him▪ It were no mean enterprise but to examine his book, and to make a breviary of all the absurd things therein contained. I would choose as soon to be condemned to be a Scavenger for the streets of Paris, and to carry away all the dirt out of that little world. His impertinencies are infinite, and would puzzle a better Arithmetician than I am to calculate them, and he that would go about to count them, 
Conterâ ancora in sùl'ombroso dosso etc.  
Will count the Trees on top of shady Apennine  
Assoon: or waves, when winds do chafe the curling Brine.   
If this Bearer shall stand in need of recommendation to the Council, I doubt not, but knowing his name, and what a share I bear in his interests, you will effectually assist him for love of me, who am more than any man in the world;  
Sir, Your, etc. Balzac. 30. jan. 1629.   

LET. XLIV. To the same—  
Sir,  
I Am (ever this Month) confined to my bed, where I received your Letter directed from Rouen. To read there the continuation of your sickness, could not (you must think) be any assuagement of mine. I bestow a thousand curses upon the waters of Fórges, for impairing your health. Propertius hath not been more liberal, or bestowed more upon the Baiae that killed Augustus his Nephew. But a main difference is, that this man was a Poet, and did but act grief: but I am truly afflicted; and true friendship doth really suffer more, than flattery can personate. I am very sorry that— hath not demeaned himself towards you so well as he should have done; and if you have resolved upon his ruin, I do not mean to step in between him and it, and undertake his protection. I do ever side with all your passions without premeditation; and that man that doth not please you, hath no allurements so powerful, as can render him pleasing to me: nevertheless if this man's offence were venial, and your justice could be satisfied; I would adventure to beg his pardon, and would become his surety, that he should willingly undergo all the punishments that you would inflict upon him, to regain your favour. There are some businesses between us, that force me to dissemble a little, and do not permit an apparent rupture, if there come not from you an express order to the contrary. But being once freed out of this turmoil, if he be so unlucky as to offend you again, I declare unto you that I do even now renounce him; and I had rather forget my obligations to him, then to carry affections repugnant to yours. Your Cousin is too generous to oblige (so nobly) a man whom he never knew; and I had rather believe, that his esteem of me, is but the consequence of your love, then to imagine it to be an apprehension of any merit in me. I do purpose a voyage beyond the seas the next year; If I take ship at deep, as I hope to do, I shall not fail to go and kiss His hands at Röan; & to make him see that the Monster, that Father Goulu speaks of, is a tame Beast, (at least) and capable of knowledge. If I did exceedingly rejoice at the news, when a Canonship was bestowed upon you, I forgot how far this Dignity was below your deserts. It sufficeth me, that I give you some testimony that I am not sorry for it; and that I consider it (as in the crowd) among other Benefices that shall fall upon you; knowing that some few men's lives (that be not yet dead) are the only obstacles to your Virtues. I expect by the first Post, some better news concerning your health, and ever remain with all my soul  
Sir Your &c. Balzac. 10. May 1634.   

LET. XLV. To the same.  
Sir,  
YOur last message did give me exceeding content, & though I am well assured of your affection towards me, yet I take a singular delight to read in your Letters that you love me. These be words, whose fragrancy time cannot wear away; and which will be as pleasant to me many years hence▪ as when they were first spoken. I am (indeed) ravished with your last protestations: But I rejoice with you the rather, for the felicity of this new age, since you are in part the cause of it, and that by your suggestions, Monsieur— doth purpose to allot a considerable Tenement of lands for the relief of poor and disconsolate Muses. We shall see this year Sonnets, and Odes, and Elegies enough. The Almanac doth promise wonderful plenty, and Parnassus must not yield less than it did under the Pontificate of Leo the Tenth. For you Sir, if you believe me, you shall never take pen in hand again, but in case of necessity, and only that commerce may not decay. Hitherto you have been a Horace, now you are a Maecenas; and if we do not celebrate you (every Scribbler of us) and address our Works, both in prose and verse to you, you have just cause to indict us of ingratitude. For my part, I would willingly both live and dye under your patronage; and I do provide an Oration for you in genere demonstrativo; wherein (at first salute) I shall astonish the world with this great prodigy. That you are both a complete Courtier, and a perfect Friend. Since you would absolutely have it so, that I come to Paris, it is to you, that I shall make my most frequent resorts to do my respects; and it is in your Cabinet that I shall (by your good leave) redeem the time, which I have lost in the Country, but we must give place (a while) to the anger of stormeing jove; or to speak the language of men, we must permit it to rain and freeze in Beausse; and not go to outbrave the month of February. I have no great need to dye out of too much daring. My health is still very infirm and unconstant; and if I did not take incredible care, (I say not to preserve my person, but only to continue my sleeps) you had lost me a great while since. Since I am wholly yours, you will allow me the use of this word, and take it not ill, that I reckon myself in the number of those things, that are not to you indifferent. You have infinitely obliged me in assuring Monsieur the Count of— of the continuance of my zeal and fidelity. I have made him so eminent and public a mark, that as I can never recant it, so can he never suspect it. I omit a thousand things that I should tell you of: but this will be employment for the next week: and I am forced to conclude that I am  
Sir Your &c. Balzac. 10. Feb. 1632.   

LET. XLVI. To Monsieur de Savignac.  
Sir,  
EIther I have not well interpreted myself or Monsieur de— hath not well understood me. I do ever value the merits of Madame d' Anguitar, and if it must be, that I must (by a second act) confirm that testimony which I have given of Her, I am ready to declare myself a new, and to commend once more a Lady that is so praiseworthy. It is true, that for the interest of her Honour, it will be some thing material, to understand the cause that made my intentions to be misconstrued, and that I lead you to the very source of this jealousy; Whereas, it seemed to certain Cavaliers, my friends, that I did too much approve of her singular humour, and frequent retire, one of the most eloquent of them took a fancy to publish his dislike in this point; and to write a reproachful Letter unto me in the name (as he saith) of the whole Corporation of Honest men. Wherein he proclaims open war against me in their name, as though I had conspired against fair Society; and calls me the Common enemy; the universally jealous man, the Tyrant to both sexes. He doth imagine that it is my intent to shut up in Prison all fair and delectable things, for to punish curious eyes. He cries out, that I would fain abrogate the sweetest laws of this Realm, and bring in the cruelty of that custom in Spain, where honest women are mewed up in cages, and honest men adore but doors and windows. From Madrid, he passeth to Constantinople, and tells me in a great rage, that I am good nothing but to be a Counsellor of the great Turk, for to advise him to raise the walls of the Seraglio higher, & to double the Guard of the Sultana; Then he doth accuse me for a thousand mischiefs and takes me for Him that invented the iron grates, the locks, the veils & masks: & for the Author of all those things that oppose his intrusion & saucy curiosity. Insomuch that he imagines that I must render him a reason of the secrets and difficulties of all riddles, of the darkness of all ancient Oracles; of the Allegories of Poets; and of the Mysteries of all Religions. To make answer to far less than this, it behoved me to study a long Apology; & (as ill luck was) when I received his Letter, I was not in the humour of making Books. Wherefore Sir, I profess to you truly, I chose rather to yield than defend myself; and abandon my Maxims to the verbosity of my good friend, rather than maintain them with the expense of so many words as he did ply them with: But if I be not deceived, there is a good deal of difference between my Maxims & the praises of Madame d' Anguitar; and he must take heed of confounding in the design that I have, that which I distinguished in the 
* See this Letter in the supply to the second part of his Letters. Let. XVIII  Letter which I wrote unto Her. To say that She is one of the Perfections of the world, is an immovable truth, for which I would fight all my life time: But to say that such Perfections must be sequestered from the eyes of men, is (I suppose) a problematical opinion, which I may revoke without prejudice to my own constancy, or to the worth of these Perfections. But on the contrary, most will be apt to believe, that this will be sufficient amends, and just satisfaction for the injury I did them, in condemning them to Solitude and Retiredness; & will call it their revoking from exile, and releasing out of bondage. Thus Sir, I preserve still my first Design; and my commendations remain whole and entire among the ruins of my Maxims. Nay out of their demolitions, Trophies might be erected to the honour of Madame d' Anguitar, and a Theatre built, where She might be gazed upon, by those that can but divine and guess at Her; and that the Desert might no longer have such advantage over the City. This is not then to rebel against her Virtues, but to wish Her a more spacious Empire, and a greater number of Subjects than She hath had; nor to go about to eclipse her light, but to adjudge, that She should issue forth out of the clouds, for the benefit and comfort of the Universe. I pity those Critics that take it otherwise; and am sorry that Monsieur— is fallen upon a thought so far distant from mine. He might have understood me well enough, without putting me to the pains of interpreting myself; and might have seen (moreover) that though in this occasion I would not at all consider the interests of another, yet I should have considered my own at least. Doth he imagine that I could have been persuaded to spoil at one dash, one of the dearest Issues of my Brain? and to bereave myself of the acknowledgements of one of the greatest Personages of the world, who thinks Herself in some measure beholding unto me? I am no such Enemy to myself, or so prodigal of the good that I have acquired. I do not mean to throw dirt upon that piece, where I have bestowed so many and so rich Colours; and believe not you, that I would have razed out (being thereunto entreated by none) those words that did no way dislike me; you that know how Heliodorus denied to do the like, though earnestly solicited thereunto, by a whole Council. If you do me the honour as to make a journey to morrow to Balzac, I will tell you more; though negociating with an understanding so serene as yours, I think I have spoken enough already concerning it. This is  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac 26. March 1637.   

LET. XLVII. To Monsieur Chapelain.  
Sir,  
I Am newly out of a fit of an Ague; and though the shaking & tossing be past, yet it is not yet calm. My head is so numbed, and deafened with yesterdays tempest, that I am for no reasonable use; and in the estate that I am, I am not fit for any Society. Nevertheless there is no way to put off so just an office as this to another time, and (though with hazard of incongruities, and offending against Grammar rules) you must receive from me these three or four ragged lines. You have obligations upon me, both new & old, which cannot by me be sufficiently acknowledged. I am ashamed to be beloved so much and deserve it so little; and if you be not contented with an honest Heart, I can offer you nothing worthy so noble and pure affection as yours. The last Letter which you did me the honour to write unto me, hath given proof thereof beyond all question; and I have kissed each line thereof as so many traces or footsteps of the golden Age, and so many pictures of the sincerity of the old World. Your counsels are most wise and loyal, and I would most punctually render them obedience, if I were in case to do it. But besides that it is impossible to appease and conjure down Envy, & that I am too weak to grapple with it: Physicians do prohibit all study and labour of the spirits; and tell me, that I cannot meditate one half an hour, without running the hazard of never meditating more. So that Sir, it is more expedient that my cause should perish then I; and that I should be beaten at Paris in my absence, then that I should die here in person. You will (no doubt) be of my opinion, and since the occasion (which is presented) of dying, is none of the most glorious: you will not take it amiss if I make some more use yet of my life, to be  
Sir, Your, etc. Balzac. 30. jan. 1632.   

LET. XLVIII. To the same—  
Sir,  
YOU do wrong to that Passion or regard which I bear towards you, to call it Civility. It deserves a better name than that; and we are not acquainted in the country with those virtues, countenance and Show. I deal very seriously with my friends, and I speak nothing but what I mean to make good; & by the principles of ancient Philosophy, I do think that a Compliment doth as much oblige me as a Contract. Think not then that I deal with you out of Common places: they are the true motions of my soul, which I show you, and if I could exhibit my very soul, you would confess, that the expressions of my tongue are far inferior to the Idea by the which they were framed. It is you alone Sir, that can content those that demand satisfaction, and make my interests even what please you. I have neither liberty nor election when I see the bent of your desire. Tear, burn, scatter the ashes of my Books in the wind; I do submit them to all the rigour of your justice; Tibi in me, meaque aeterna authoritas esto. You are no more my Counsellor but my Sovereign, and by consequence, deal not with me by Arguments & Remonstrances, but impose Laws upon me and prescribe Commands. You shall never find a more docile and supple nature than mine, no not if you went to seek in Asia, that country of perfect Slaves. Nevertheless, I think that my Humility will not take off the edge of persecution, but on the contrary, it will make my Adversaries to swell and grow insolent: But I have comforts ready at hand against all the ill fortunes which I expect. In this, I desire only the glory of obeying you. It is enough for me that I have showed that friendship can do more with me, than Tyranny, and I would acknowledge your Jurisdiction, when I might decline all Other. I am  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac▪ 20. july. 1632.   

LET. XLIX. To the same—  
Sir,  
HItherto I have beheld (without disturbance) all the assaults of my enemies; and they have but scratched some lines of my Books, & at most have called to question some things of small consequence. But now that they wound me in the tenderest part of my heart, I profess to you, I begin to have some resentment▪ I cannot forgive them the injury they have done me, to raise jealousies and make a breach between us Two. And I have conceived such indignation against this imposture, that it is impossible I should write unto you soberly and moderately. If I do not exercise vindicative justice, there is no reason I should desire it. That which doth most of all trouble me is, that I do run after a Fantasme, and that I know not whom to lay hold upon. And truly, if there were any means to discover this honest Secretary that was bestowed on me without my knowledge, I think it were very just to pay him his wages. How ever, here is a man that would gain a name by such an occasion; & doth pronounce against him that terrible Arrest. Ligno pereat qui fumum vendidit. These men should be made an example; and whereof a civil Society ought to be quickly purged. They are the most dangerous Thiefs of all, that rob us of our friends: which be goods, that should remain ours, after the loss of all other. I confess, that I have many infirmities, and am subject to err a thousand ways, but I am not capable of an offence of that high nature that I am charged with; and the goodly Letter, which you sent me a copy of, carries neither my style nor my Genius; nevertheless, your faith hath betrayed a weakness, and you have staggered a little upon the opening of this false packet. Assure yourself Sir, if I have forfeited your good Opinion and favour, that I would not outlive so smart an Affliction; and you may believe, that I do not rashly hazard a thing so precious as that. I make not only Sincerity and Zeal the companions of my Friendship▪ but Discretion also and Respect. The Persons whom I love, are to me almost in the same degree of veneration, as those things which I adore: I approach them not but with awe, which accompanies Religion; and it is certain, that I am so fearful to offend them, that (lest I should distaste them with my sullenness) I do force and fain smiles when I am most sad. You shall know more of this in the progress of my life; and avouch, that I know how to practise those maxims, which I hold, and approve myself, with courage and constancy  
Sir Your, etc. Balzac. 1. March 1632.   

LET. L. To the same—  
Sir,  
SInce I have arrived here, I have received the Letter, which you did me the honour to write unto me; which is, a continuation of your courtesies and bounty, and an entrance upon a commerce, where I must take all, and you give all. While I expect to make benefit of your Prose, I feast upon your verses, which have disrelisht all that I took for excellent before. I never saw boldness more discreet, courage better maintained, or sweetness less effeminate. These are Sir, worthy Harbingers of your Damsel. But you do her wrong to seem to doubt of her good Fate, and do not believe the auspicious omens that appeared at her Nativity, which promise long life. If you have patience enough to consummate this work, all the rest is sufficient: your natural wit is strong and pregnant; you have the perfection of Arts; your Cabinet is a Magazine of ornaments and riches, to adorn the Subject. What more is wanting to you? Be not nice any longer: you are condemned to go forward with it; except you mean to quit one passion for another, and abandon Poetry for the Politics: wherein (to tell you the truth) I believe you will prove admirable. I am of your opinion, that fifteen hundred verses at one breath, go far; and that it would not be amiss, to set more reasonable bounds to every Book. But touching all this, you may consult with Vida & Fracastorius; and if they be not of the same opinion, Scaliger may be the super-numerary. Our Doctor saith, that he hath not so much need of counsel as of aid, and since things past, fall not under deliberation, it is no time now, to know whether he hath erred; he desires you only to teach him how to deny it with some fair probability; to persuade the people that Pericles is not fallen, though the people saw it. For my part, I am confident of the good success of all your enterprises. Having found the bell motivo in favour of the Poet Marini, there is no such Monster which you cannot shape and make handsome; and without doubt, you have such precious Oil, that one drop thereof is sufficient to blanche a Moor. It is  
Sir Your &c. Balzac 1. Aug. 1632.   

LET. LI. To the same—  
Sir,  
MY silence is not the effect of Sloth; and you may believe that it is against my will that I deprive myself of the contentment that I took in entertaining you. The reasons that obliged me to silence, were more just than I wished they had been; and a troublesome Defluxion which fell upon my eyes hath failed to charge you with a blind friend: For in that case, I think you could not have chosen but to have been my Guide; and I did already make account to learn to sing, that I might chante your Poëme. But (by the great mercy of God) I recovered my eyesight yesterday; and you are freed from the sad office, which my distressed Fortune might have required from your good nature. Now that I do speak, and do not rattle in the throat; I must give you an account of the voyage that I made; and I must tell you with as much ceremony and eloquence as heretofore, that I have been to meet the Court as far as Cadilliac. I had the honour there, to do my respects to my Lord—. But His sickness, that took him the very day that he arrived thither, and mine, which would wait no longer to attach me, did force me to take my way back to my Village; where I found your messages, and my coffers. I render you once more, most humble thanks, for the care you took to keep them for me; and since you are pleased that I make use of you, with such familiarity, you must permit my thankful acknowledgement thereof. The news you wrote unto me, concerning the sickness of— was told me at Bourdeaux, when I was there; and I swear unto you, I have not slept a good sleep since. This is as good a man as ever I was acquainted with, and I do mainly esteem him; because I know him to the very heart: where (without faineing) I have found nothing, but what was noble, and (I dare speak it) magnanimous. I know that his ou side hath been displeasing to many; But men must not always, be judged by the lineaments of the face, and that aversation is unjust, which springs only out of deformity. I do much wonder that two words which I have written to my Stationer, being half a sleep, are floune out of his shop already. I assure you I am no— nor do not use to put on severity in reading these kinds of Relations. But (in-truth) this here, did give me much content; and though I meet with some passages that might be altered without any harm, & where a decorum was not so exactly observed as it might have been; nevertheless (to speak in the general) the invention, to my thinking, was handsome, the narration neat and smooth, and the style all savouring of the Court and Cabinet. When you have read it, I will think of it, as you shall pronounce the sentence; in the mean while, I use the liberty allowed in points not yet decided; and the interim, that you are too good to agree with me, until you have made the truth manifest unto me. For the Dutch Orator, remember (at least wise) that I spoke nothing but touching his phrase, for I do infinitely esteem his learning and judgement. Be pleased therefore to manage this petty secret according to your ordinary prudence▪ since I am so unfortunate, that I cannot utter one word, but it will strait find strange Glosses and Commentaries, and that there be people so charitable, as to stir up war against me, and create me enemies in all parts of the world. I have never received the Letter of Monsieur de— neither did I need them to assure me of his love. I know that he is good and noble; wherefore relying hereupon, it sufficeth me to understand that he is well; and it is not material to me, whether I learn this from him or from you. I forgot to tell you that I received from Monsieur the Duke of— many caresses & favours; he hath used me like some great Personage, or mighty Signior; and I have been his Favourite the space of four days. I desire no more, nor do I labour to promote my good fortune any farther. I am content to bond it Sir, with the fruition of your good favour, and I am most affectionately  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac 1. Dec. 1632.   

LET. LII. To the same—  
Sir,  
I Have returned no answer to your Letter, in regard I have been cumbered (lately) with some domestic affairs, which would allow me no leisure to write; it is your Prerogative, to be able to intend several things at once: you enjoy a spirit so calm, that you can read a Dialogue in Plato, and dispatch a dozen businesses too at once, with a resolve to dye an hour after. For my part, one object is enough to employ me, and it is impossible for me to reconcile Recreation and Business. That which you tell me of Monsieur— is true. The Letter which he wrote unto me is an abridgement of all his Books; and I cannot return answer to it, though I would, but by the messenger that goes the next year from Angoulesme. But though it hath been told you, yet be pleased not to believe it, that this Letter offends me, or that mine hath given any offence. Only upon occasion of one little word, he took a hint to sport it after his ordinary manner, and to make a new show of his old manner of boarding. We must be indulgent to our friend's mirth, and give way (a little) to their jolly humour. Nay, a man ought not to do his enemy all the discourtesies he can; and to be very sensible of a wrong, is to add weight and measure to it. Satisfy yourself, I pray, touching my spirit by these maxims of peace▪ and fear not that any man can raise my passions to an humour of contention. A thousand Cartels cannot tempt me to one Duel, and I can be more coward, than the Hott-spurres of the times are quarrelsome. I fear not their strength, nor subtlety, but I fear my own trouble, and I do infinitely love my Rest: Honour itself would seem unmannerly to me, if it came to disquiet it. And I would fain pass for an Jncognito even in my own Province, and my own Village. You cannot believe how much I am fallen out with the world, and how distasteful I am to myself. What was wont to tickle and please me, hurts me. An Almanac and an History I esteem alike. Those simple terms of style, phrase, and period, are so harsh to my ears, that they make my head ache. If it were Gods will, that I should be sentenced to lose my good or bad Reputation, I would resign it (with all my heart) to any that would desire it; and I have a desire to change my name, that I might not any more share in any thing that is spoken of Balzac, nor interest myself either in the praises or dispraises that are bestowed on Him. Is not this Sir, a pretty resolution? & which I should long since have undertaken. This is almost the panoply of that Philosopher, that patiently took a box on the ear in a public place at Corinth. He professed he had a helmet to ward future blows, that if any should chance to give him another box, it might fall on an iron face and not his. Apply this how you please; As for my part, I do but laugh at Rhetoric, and all its Tropes; and have nothing to do with that Art, which hath created me so many vexations. I am with all my soul  
Sir Your &c. Balzac. 10. jan▪ 1632.   

LET. LIII. To the same.  
Sir,  
GOd doth beset me on all sides; and sends me afflictions by troops: To comfort me for the decease of Monsieur de— news is brought me of that of Monsieur de— So that I begin to make a conscience to love you, since my Friendship is (in a manner) fatal to whomsoever I give it; and that I possess nothing but I lose it in a moment. But there is no need of doing bad offices about you, or to affright you with any Planet, whose malignity (I hope) you are able to correct. I pass it over therefore, to tell you, that as long as Monsieur de— was here, I performed my part with wonderful assiduity, so that I was astonished at it myself. We have had long and particular discourses upon all good subjects, and by consequence, you may believe that You have not been forgotten. I never preach well, but when you are my Text. As I prise nothing more justly than your love so I praise nothing more willingly than your virtue; and this subject pleaseth me so well that I never want words, if I do not want Auditors. Yet I do not pretend to engage you hereby. To reck on you in the number of Illustrious men, is only to leave you in your own seat; & and to say that the Damsel will be your work, is to say, that Pallas will issue out of the head of jove. She is at this time the sweetest hope and expectation of honest leisure; She is the desire of the Cabinet & will be the great labour of the French Muses. I have threatened (this long while) a voyage to Paris; which I intended of purpose to see it; and I hope to surprise you both together, one day when you expect me not. But remember Sir, that even your Purpose is a vow; and that you can have no such Dispensation, that can take away all scruple, if you have a tender conscience and will believe some Divines (that I can name) concerning it. I cannot conclude my Letter before I acquaint you, that I am ravished with the good opinion you bear towards my Nephew. I ascribe more to your predictions then to them that make Horoscopes and calculate nativities; & the conjectures which your good judgement doth suggest, are more certain than those which They derive out of their Art. My Sister is so proud of the testimony you gave her, that she would have returned you a Compliment, if she durst adventure to speak to you. But her respect did check her desire, and I have promised to excuse her silence; which (I know) you will pardon, because it will save you the pains to reply. we desire Sir, the continuation of your good admonitions to this gallant man; and doubt not, but a glance or cast of your eye now & then, will edify him much. I think you should consider him as something that concerns you. For my part, I make no difference between your affection and mine; and I am without all reservation  
Sir Your &c. Balzac. 25. May 1633.   

LET. LIV. To the same—  
Sir,  
I Know not how to present myself before you: though my conscience doth acquit me, some appearances condemn me; and you see my fault, but know not my affairs; I have had variety of them ever these three months which have strangely exercised me; and whereof I am yet so weary that I must have a great while to recover myself. All that I can, is to use my Idleness well, and to make something of my Leisure. Now that I have got it in possession again, I mean not to be disseised of it: If it be possible, I bid eternal farewell to all contracts, transactions, & Aquittances. These are ornaments of our language which must not (in my opinion) enter into your Poems. You have more care of the chastity of your Damsel then to violate her with these villainous terms; & this were of a Virgin to make a Strumpet of her. But I can never obtain that small favour of you, or prevail so much as to see here (at least) the first hundred verses that do concern her. I do preserve carefully all those things that you have sent, and never produce them out of my Treasury, but to impart them to choice Wits. The invention of your first Metamorphosis is ingenious. Ovid had swelled up and dilated that subject which you have contracted and pressed together. But the importance is, that in this little, you appear great; and I behold you entire in every parcel. The second part doth please me no less yet then the first, and I hold that Lioness happy that hath heaven for an Amphitheatre, and hath been placed there by such a hand as yours. You make her jar so well and tunably; and her roaring is so sweet and melodious in your Verses, that there is no Music comparable. Those of— do not flow in such numbers. Longeque pulchrius spectaculum est, & dignius oculis eruditi, videre nobilem illam feram, quam miserum & febriculosum Annaei Lucani Simium With the last Letter I received Bembus which you sent me. In truth he is not so well polished and digested as those Authors in the Library of Monsieur—. But all tattered & confused as it is, I can assure you, it likes me infinitely. I never love luxury, & am nothing curious for gay clothes. The beauty of Chariclea did shine through her rags; and your Marini hath made a Sonnet, wherein he tells us, how he fell in love with a canting Doxy. I thank you therefore for Venus and the Graces (though ill attired) which I met with, in your Books, and remain  
Sir, Your, etc. Balzac. 3. july. 1633.   

LET. LV. To the same—  
Sir,  
I Entertain your commendations like ill gotten goods; the fruition whereof is sweet, although unjust. It is some honour to me to have so excellent a Flatterer as you are; and I suffer myself willingly, and take a pleasure to be deceived by a man that can do it so neatly. I think (indeed) that the Verses which you have seen, are not bad in their kind; but I think withal, that this is the shortest of all kinds. I durst not engage myself in a wider career; my strength serves but for a short tug; and I walk at the foot of your Parnassus; but I should want breath, if I should attempt to mount the top. You do (indeed) Sir, bear the name of a great Poet, & succeed equally in all sorts of Verses; and though you speak with extreme modesty of the last work, which you sent me: I do not find that it oweth any thing to the fairest Pieces that you have showed us. There is no stanze that hath not its particular value; nor no Piece but is remarkable for some beauty. But that which did chiefly relish with me was the Prayer which you direct to Apollo; and that admirable Music, (which proceeding out of the clouds) heals your malady in a trice. This is not the effect of ordinary Poetry; it is a fit of that divine rapture and fury, which Plato hath acknowledged; and which the first Poets were sometimes possessed with. Send me such Presents often, if you would have me rich in my Poverty; and have good company in my solitude. But above all, love me well, if you would have me happy; and assure yourself, that no man in the world is more than I am  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac. 9 Aug. 1634.   

LET. LVI. To the same—  
Sir,  
I Know that you love me, and I know that you are in health, but this is not enough; I must learn something more concerning it; and you must tell me some news of your brave Meditations. Doth the Girl wage war, or doth she keep at home in the country with her Father? Doth Charles grow soft in the embraces of the fair Agnes, or doth he quit Love for honour? In what state are the affairs of England? How doth Hire and Potho? What do your Achilles and Ajax? are you for a battle or for a siege? 
Jam nunc minaci murmure cornuum  
Perstringis aures, jam litui strepunt:  
Audire magnos jam videor duces▪  
Non indecoro pulvere sordidos, etc.  See questions enough at once; but you are not bound to answer to them punctually, and provided, that you satisfy me in one Article, you have to deal with a man of a facile disposition, who will not be rigorous for the rest I am now more a Hermit then ever; and for having here a little Court but two days only, I had the Megrim by it for three weeks. Tranquillity & silence Sir, is a precious thing; and if Epicurus had some reason to complain of his very friends that they did break his head with their applause & acclamations: what must be said of the bawl and exclamations, of a man's enemies, of the first & second part of Philarkes of their times. Those that write, are subject both to the one and the other persecution. But for my part, I avow to you, that hitherto Compliments have done me more harm than injuries. I use none towards you Sir, for fear you should complain of me in the same manner; and I am content to tell you, that I am without compliment, that is, entirely  
Angoulesme 1. Sept. 1634. Your, etc.   

LET. LVII. To Monsieur de Sithon.  
Sir,  
YOU show a sort of humility that is not sufferable; and though it be the proper style of Saints to talk of their vileness, and their nothingness; yet to reject all testimonies indifferently, that come from another, is in my opinion rather a contempt of our neighbour than a modest conceit of ourselves. I am no flatterer, but I praise or dispraise, according as I am persuaded of the merit of things, or their default; & if I talk often of the great lights that you have, whither in sacred or profane Learning, it is because I have been dazzled therewith. Your three Discourses do please me infinite; lie and I am very well pleased that mine did not displease you: But I am the more glad that you are of my opinion touching the putting down quite of all Answers, Replies, Defences, Apologies, and the like. Since I have but laughed at the attempts of a Legion. I do not mean to complain of the insolence of a Carbine; A man were better to pick out an enemy; and this here, may fight all alone, if it please him: It is not fit to show anger against a man that deserves pity, nor to loose patience upon an occasion so obscure, that it were hard to make it appear. You send me no news concerning the affairs of Italy, and I am very desirous to hear some. It hath been told me that Monsieur Maynard hath not appeared in Paris, though Monsieur de Mailles be arrived thither. He will (perhaps) be stayed a longer time. If it be so, my Affection is so far ingenious as to torment my spirit. I stand in fear (for his sake) of all the dangers both of sea and land. I do apprehend at once that he is fallen sick by the way, and that he is lead captive into Barbary, and that the Spaniards have surprised him. That which must comfort me in this distraction is, that a good spirit doth pass undauntedly through all; and that they were the Poets his Predecessors that made wings for Daedalus. How ever you will confess, that if Epigrams be current among the Millamois, and that he wants but 2000 of them for his ransom, he hath wherewith to satisfy them without damage to himself. In truth, I am solicitous touching this my dear friend; and you will oblige me, if you will be pleased to send me a relation of his Adventures, when you shall come to know them. I am  
Sir Your &c. Balzac. 30. Dec. 1636.   

LET. LVIII. To Monsieur GERARD Secretary to my Lord the Duke of Espernon.  
Sir,  
HAppy are those actions that fall under your Pen and History. Since you do extol one man's idleness even to the envy of the world, and so far, as to propose it for an example, what Will you talk of the life of the Suedish King, and other Miracles of our age; if you will take them in hand? The mischief is, that those, that have heard you, shall see me; and you have set me at so high a rate, that I cannot hold after it, but upon your credit, & by my own absence. If Monsieur the Duke of— passeth by Balzack, the legend that you have framed of me, will at first dash lose that probability that it carried; and I shall be no more that famous Hermit, that hath been related and described unto him by an officious Impostor. In vain will he seek among my papers the fine things that you have promised him; and it will repent him (perhaps) that he turned out of the road, for such a sad spectacle that I shall exhibit him. In any case Sir, I will present myself; and if hitherto you have deceived him, yet you shall acquit yourself of the name of Cozner, when you shall assure him on my behalf of an inviolable fidelity, and hearty acknowledgement. These are qualities which I possess in a sovereign degree▪ and which I preserve for him in the bottom of my soul. But the passion which I bear to his Honour, must not be still kept as a secret; and, I will at length profess, what I have this long while adored in particular manner. Do me the favour, as to tell him thus much, and believe withal, if you please, that I am  
Sir, Your, etc. Balzac. 30. May 1635.   

LET. LIX. To the same—  
Sir,  
I Love no kind of quarrelling, much less with my friends. But it is a thing worthy pity, that a man should receive continual wrong, and yet must not open his mouth to complain, but he shall be censured for a troublesome and untoward fellow. I know the eager spirit of that man that speaks so loud, when my interests are in agitation. I know he is carried with the hot vapours that exhale from that sulfury vein, which (you say) lieth about his heart. But you will confess notwithstanding, that the bottom of this heart is not bad. His lavishness proceeds from a fair spring, and in acts of friendship an inundation is better than drought. I forgive the intricated zeal, incident goodness, and impetuousness of a man that cannot love with moderation. We must do him some right, and not hate his passion, though we approve it not; for my part, I do permit it, but not employ it; and though he tells me, that he hath a fierce Satire to come forth to kill our messer, if he do not save himself in the little Cottage; I give him thanks for his good will, but I desire him to deliver the Satire into my hands, and for this purpose only, that none might see it. You shall find in my packet some latin compositions that were sent me, and particularly, the later Tears of S. Peter, which have been commended unto you. In my judgement, (and I think you will subscribe to it) he is too subtle, and shows too much punctuality in delineting a true Penitent. Nature doth not speak thus, nor its passions either, which are the daughters of nature, as subtleties are the wantoness of Art. S. Peter's sorrow is admirably well expressed by Grotius; and these four verses of his, which I remember, do weigh down the four hundred that I have sent you. 
Quae me recondet Regio? quâ maestum diem  
Fallam latebrâ? quaero nigrantem specum  
Quâ me sepeliam vivus; ubi nullum videns,  
Nulli videndus, lachrymas foveam meas.  Are not these worthy of the Heroic times & purest Antiquity? the rest of the Discourse is animated with the same Genius; and is a lesson for Orators, that sorrow must not be elaborate, or at leastwise must not betray any studied care. I leave your Brother to relate news; he hath in charge to inform you of all occurrences, and therefore I have nothing to say, but that I am  
Sir Your &c. Balzac 15. jun. 1636.   

LET. LX. To Monsieur De la Mothe Le Vayer.  
Sir,  
MY spirits have been so dull and heavy these three days, that it is beyond imagination. Never did any man lose the relish of all Books and Arts as I did; and hence you may gather that that which you sent me, was very delicate, when it procured an appetite to a languishing man. You have strangely altered me in a moment: my soul is touched to the quick; and you have made it so hungry after knowledge, that I have no mind to any thing but to your Philosophy. If you will set up a Sect, I am ready to unroll myself, at least wise I will subscribe willingly to that frank doctrine, which maintains its liberty against the usurpations of Aristotle; and is contented to acknowledge lawful power, but not to be slave to the Tyranny of one particular man. I speak Sir, as I believe: Doubtless your work will last, and to give you your full due, I must give it in your own language: noble an act of the Soul, is not the weakest argument we have of its immortality; and if any shall hereafter take in hand this subject, he will be beholding to you for this new argument, which your modesty would not permit you to make use of. Certainly there were no reason nor colour, that the offspring should be of a better condition than the mother, and that those productions which must encounter Time, and conquer Fate, should flow from a corruptible principle. But since I have sped so well in my first solicitations, I desire not to stop there. This good success doth encourage me to redouble them, and in the name of all the Learned to beg yet more work of the same vigour. Though I should perform no other office in the commonwealth of Learning then this, I were not an unuseful member; and this will be (one day) honour enough for me, when it will be said, that I gave the counsel for those labours which you have undertaken. Acquire for me Sir, this reputation, that I may add it to that which I would gladly deserve all my life time, which is to be  
Balzac. 29. March 1637. Your &c.   

LET. LXI. To Monsieur de—  
Sir,  
THe Discourse which you did me the honour to send me, is full of an infinite number of good things; and none can deny but your friend is both learned and judicious. Nevertheless I do not think that he will find in that place whither he goeth, that approbation which he promiseth to himself: I think that (for his speaking Latin after the French manner) his meaning is better than his expression▪ He is not always so regular as I would desire; and his words do sometimes do wrong to his thoughts. True it is, that in these times we are very nice and delicate in the purity of expressions. We can brook no style that is licentious be it never so little; and whatsoever is not after the garb of the Court is accounted barbarous. This is not, that I am of the opinion of Monsieur de— that said that the good man judgement could never pass beyond the Garond; and that He was put into such a fright at Blaye, that he durst not adventure any farther. When he spoke this, he forgot (sure) that Monsieur de Pibrac, Monsieur de Montagne, and the Cardinal d' Ossat were Gascons; and their solid judgements which are admired to this day over all Europe, do sufficiently refute that poor jest which passeth among some for excellent. It is certain that Reason is common to all Countries, and consequently is of that, where they say Adieu-sias, as well as when they say Dieu vous conduisse. It is confined to no place, and we may find subtlety among the Swissers, and stupidity among the Florentines; but indeed, for the language, it is not all alike: without question in some places, they speak better than elsewhere, and whereas a Courtier of Rome did taste some thing of Milan in the Histories of Titus Livius, it is not impossible to observe in the writings and conversations of your men some tincture of their Province. Ever and anon, you shall observe them to let slip vousist for voulust, fausist for falust, cousin mien, & ie suis esté a Thoulouze, which mar all good speech: and their allarent, donuarent armarent, have run over their banks, & come as far as our country. The late Monsieur de Mal herb hath told me often that he did what possibly he could for to correct the dialect of Monsieur de— & purge it of Gasconisme, but could never bring it about: so difficult is it, to wipe off our natural stains, and utterly to wear out the badge of our Country. Nevertheless for all this, neither the Patavinity of Titus Livius, nor the Gasconisme of some of our times, do hinder them from being reputed Eloquent▪ And for one petty fault, either of use or of Grammar, I condemn not those works which in all other respects, are excellent. To satisfy your desire, I have sent by Monsieur de— the Letters of Monsieur Heinsius, one whereof preceded my Dissertation, the other followed his answer. Now that I have furnished you with these two Letters, to entertain you a while; be pleased not to take it amiss that I take leave of you, and all the world for two years. I am forbid to write any thing for so long a time, and this is an oath that I have taken by the order of my Confessor; and upon good and weighty considerations. I hope God will give me the grace to observe it: Nec mihi scribendi veniet tam dira cupido; And you will not (I am sure) tempt me to sin, and provoke me to break that silence which I have sworn to. But though you should solicit me a thousand times, and assault me every day in two or three languages, I am resolved to be inexorable, and not to be moved with that happy abundance of your words. If you term me uncivil, and expostulate with me in the words of your Poet, 
Vnde îstam meruit non faelix charta repulsam?  
Hostis ab Hoste tamen per barbara a verba salutem  
Accipit, & Salve modiis intervenit armis;  
Respondent & saxa homini.  I will make answer with an audible voice both to your Poet and You, that Religion must sway Civility, and that a lesser duty must yield to a greater. Finally if there be an absolute necessity, that we have some commerce with each other: in this case, I will choose rather to make a journey then write a letter, and expose myself to the hazard of shipwreck by going to see you, then violate my Faith by writing to you. Adieu then until the year of 1639, which we will begin (by God's grace) by the renewing of our ancient Traffic. Is is  
Sir, Your &c. Balzac:—   
FINIS.   

A TABLE OF THE Letter's (as they lie in order) which are contained in this Volume.  

TO Monsieur Conrart Let. 1. Pag. 1.  
To Mons. du Moulin. let. 2. p 7.  
To Mons. L'Huillier. let. 3. p. 11:  
To Mons. the Abbot of Bois-Robert. Let. 4. p. 19  
To my Lord the Earl of Excester. Let. 5. p. 23.  
To my Lord the Duke De la Valette. Let. 6. p. 26.  
To Mons. Drovet; let. 7. p. 29.  
Te Mons. De-Bonair. let. 8. p. 33.  
To Mons. Huggens let. 9 p. 35.  
To Mons. de Racan. let. 10. p 38.  
To Mons. De St Chartres let. 11. p. 43.  
To Mons. Baudoin let. 12. p. 47.  
To Mons. De Coignet. let. 33. p. 51.  
To Madam Desloges. let. 14. p. 54.  
To my Lord Keeper of the Seals Seguier etc. let. 15. p. 57  
To Mos. De Morins. let. 16. p. 61.  
To Mons. De Vaugelas. let. 17. p. 63.  
To Mons. De la Motte Aigron. l. 18. p. 70.  
To Mons. De Borstell. let. 19 p. 74.  
To Mons. the chief Advocate. let. 20. p. 77.  
To Mons. De Maury. let. 21. p 79.  
To Mons. de Mondory. let. 22. p 82.  
To Mons. Le Guay. let. 23. p. 87.  
To Mons. de Silhon. let. 24. p. 89.  
To Mons. De la Fosse. let. 25. p. 93.  
To Mons. D'Espesses. let. 26. p. 97.  
To the same: let. 27. p. 101.  
To Mons. de Cowrelles. l. 28. p. 108.  
To— let. 29. p. 111.  
To my Lord the Bishop of Angoulesme Let. 30. p. 114.  
To Mons. de— let. 31. p. 117.  
To Mons. De Serizay. let. 32. p. 133.  
To Mons. Habert Abbot of Cerizy. let. 33. p. 137.  
To Mons. De Gaillard. let. 34. p. 141.  
To the same. let. 35. p. 145.  
To Madam Desloges. let. 36. p. 150.  
To Mons. de— let. 37. p. 153.  
To Mons. Girard. let. 38. p. 157.  
To the same. let. 39 p. 160.  
To the same let. 40. p. 164.  
To the same let. 41. p. 167.  
To Madamoisell de Campagnole. let. 42. p. 17●.  
To Mons. the Abbot of Bois-Robert. let. 43. p. 174.  
To the same. let. 44. p. 178.  
To the same. let. 45. p. 182.  
To Mons. de Savignac. let. 46. p 186  
To Mons. Chapelain. let. 47. p. 194.  
To the same. let. 48. p. 197.  
To the same. let. 49. p. 200.  
To the same. let. 50. p. 204.  
To the same. let 51. p. 207.  
To the same. let. 52. p. 213.  
To the same. let. 53. p. 217.  
To the same. let. 54. p. 221.  
To the same. let. 55. p. 225.  
To the same. let. 56. p 228.  
To Mons. de Silhon let. 57 p. 230.  
To Mons. Gerard Secretary to the D. of Espernon. let. 58. p. 234.  
To the same. let. 59 p. 240.  
To Mons. de la Mothe le Vayer. let. 60. p. 240.  
To Mons. de— let. 61. p. 243.