THE HISTORY OF Father La Chaise, jesuite, and Confessor TO LEWIS XIV.  
Present King of France.  
Discovering, The Secret Intrigues by him carried on, as well in the Court of England, as in all the Courts of Europe, to advance the Great Designs of the King his Master.  
Made English from the French Original.  
LONDON, Printed by J. wild, for H. Rhodes, at the Star the corner of Bride-lane, Fleetstreet, 1693.   

THE PREFACE TO THE READER.  
I Will not trouble myself, kind Reader, to make a Bustle for your Suffrage, in favour of my Book: It will speak for itself; and if the Reasons which it offers are not of sufficient Force, 'twould be in vain for me to allege mine. Excuse me therefore, for producing any more than only this, That there is great Reason the World should know, what a Saint the King of France has got to teach him the Way to Heaven.  
However, I cannot forbear to tell you, That you ought, in some measure, to return me Thanks for the Present that I make you; not so much for the value of it, as for the danger to which I expose myself for your sake. I attack not only the most revengeful Man that ever the Sun shone upon, but a whole Society, that never pardons any Injury, and from whose remorseless Hatred there is no Asylum can secure me. For suppose that I had drawn upon me the displeasure of my native Sovereign the King of France, and should retire to London under the declared Protection of King William, which one would think were sufficient to guard me from the Menaces of the most puissant Monarch in Europe, yet early or late, this caballing Society would find a way to sacrifice me to the Resentment of my offended Prince: Nor should I be the first who had fallen into their Snares. Have they not whirlwinded several out of Amsterdam that at this very Day lie Rotting in the Dungeons of Mount St. Michael? Others have been assassinated in the very Court of Hanover. And the same Father La Chaise, that illustrious Impostor, against whom I writ, did he not enforce the Genevese to deliver into his hands an unfortunate Person that had written something against him, tho' he had not made out any thing that was very Essential, and was extremely mistaken in some of his Conjectures. What would become of me then, should he come to discover who I am, and who I may be. Nothing could save me from his Fury. But as good Luck would have it, tho' I have had the Opportunity to know him Intus & in cute, yet I believe he has no reason to be more suspicious of me then another. He sees, and is seen by so many People of all Sorts, and Conditions, of which the greatest Number curse his Infidelities, and Treacheries, experienced by them selves, that his Suspicions would be l●st in the Throng. Besides, it may be well imagined, that 'twas not from himself that I learned the following Particulars of his Life. He is not a Man to trust every body with his Secrets. Yet in regard no man can be Vicious alone, and that there must be the passive, as well as the active Part, in all manner of Luxury, 'tis no less certain that Father La Chaise must all along have had his Intimates, and Socios Voluptatum, among whom it was impossible for Father La Chaise to choose so well, but that there might be now and then a Judas.  
Never ask me then through what Channel these Curosities were conveyed to my Knowledge. For 'tis a Question to which it becomes me not to give a positive Answer, and that upon good grounds. All that I can say to it is this, That I was none of those who had the fewest Intrigues with the Society for several Years together; besides that I had sundry particular Friends who were perfectly acquainted with this Metropolitan Jesuit, from the time that he was first admitted into the Order, by whose means I had the Opportunity, not only to hear several Stories confirmed by Tradition, but also in Private, and as it were by Stealth, to read his Memoirs themselves.  
Now in regard the following Relation comprehends as well the Incontinencies, and Gallantries of his Youth, as the ungodly Practices, the Treacheries and Villainies of his riper Years, and more crafty Age, As to the First, there's no body can have any reason to deny, but that Tradition might be a very faithful Assistant to me. For there is no cause to believe him more a Saint when he was a young Man, than now he is the King of France's Confessor. The Fox has only changed his Skin, but not his Conditions. And I should take him to be very incredulous, that should give Credit to the Frailties of St. Augustin's Youth, and yet scruple to believe the Follies of La Chaise's. As for the deep Exploits of his riper Years, and the venomous Effects of his more mature Meditation, there needs no more than the Complaints of Two Popes, the Bishop of Pamiers, Cardinal Camus, and others, to convince ye of a great deal, in regard that all his Actions, of which they complain, are no other than what is purely natual and consonant to the Humour, the Genius, and Morals of that Society, of which he is the Head, and Director; and for many of the rest, the dire Proceed of his Penitent, the French Monarch, so much guided by his Counsels, are such Evidences to the World, of his being the Man I mean, that no one can well question the truth of my Relations.  
'Tis true, I cannot expect that this poor Book of mine, should be approved of in all places; for how is it possible it should be so? for I can neither disguise, nor betray my Sentiments. I utter things sincerely as I think; and this is not the Mode at this time: Perhaps it may be read, and that is all that I desire. However, should it ne'er be looked upon, this would be my Consolation, that I make no trade of writing; and if I have lashed out a little, 'twas merely the Instigation of my Zeal for the Public, which I could not suffer to be so long imposed upon, while the Impostor triumphed without some kind of Punishment.  
Reader, If you stand too nice upon the Punctilios of a History, mine will not please ye. I know, that to present a History dressed up in form, 'tis requisite the Author should tie himself solely to his subject, and never lose sight of it, by wand'ring, and throwing himself impertinently into Contemporary Affairs. I confess ingeniously, you will not find that strictness in mine. In that respect I have given myself a great Liberty. For in regard the Person, whose Actions I trace, is a kind of an Ubiquitarian, here and there, and every where, I was forced to follow him wherever his Projects lead me, and as he changed his Scenes to vary mine: which caused a Division of the Continuum, that could not be avoided.   

The French Bookseller to the READER.  
I Would willingly, Reader, that it lay in my power to let ye know who the Author of this Book is; but in truth it does not. All that I can tell ye is this, That it was sent to me from Paris by the Post, sealed up in a Cover: which when I opened, I found among the Sheets a little Note, of which I here give you a Copy, tho' I believe you will bellisle the Wiser for it.  
Can I have found any Bookseller in Paris that would have ventured to print my Book, I would not have put you to the trouble. I designed it for our own France, and not for Foreign Countries, to which I knew not whether it would be of any great use. Nevertheless, because it could not be done here, I freely give it you, desiring no other Reward, but that you would convey to me hither, One or Two hundred Copies.  
I knew, Reader, the Subject would please you, and therefore printed the Book, and gratified the Gentleman according to his Directions. Now then, seeing I was so Generous for your sake, I make no question but you will re-imburse me, by buying the rest.   

THE HISTORY OF Father La CHAISE, Jesuit and Confessor TO LEWIS XIV. Discovering The Secret Intrigues by him carried on, as well in the Court of France, as in all the Courts of Europe, for the Advancement of the King his Master's Great Designs.  
IF Hero's, and all Great Personages in general, after they have finished an Illustrious and Glorious Life, merit that Magnificent Mausoleums should be erected to perpetuate their Memories, and that the Pens of the Learned should celebrate their Story, by deriving to Posterity the Remembrance and Admiration of their Virtues; one would think, that in Opposition to this Argument, we ought to bury in the Shades of eternal Oblivion the Memory of the Impious. And doubtless, this was the Opinion of those who prohibited, under very severe Penalties, the very naming the Name of that famous Villain, who in One Day destroyed the most magnificent Temple in the World, which had been rearing so many Years. And the same Thought might have hindered me from publishing this Piece, had I not been induced by quite contrary Reasons which are of great weight. I considered, That among all the Disorders so rife in the World, there is none more offensive than Outward-Shew, which confounds Hypocrites with sincere and honest People; and which is such, that without a long and very diligent Observation, 'tis impossible, ofttimes, to distinguish the one from the other: so that a Man is forced to pay the same Honour and Respect to Imposture, as to Real Truth. 'Tis a Mischief so general, and so inevitable, that I do not believe there is any Person in the World who has not several times been deluded by it. But after that, when he comes to be better informed, there cannot be a greater Vexation to a Man, then to have been the Cully of a Villain who sports, unpunished, with Heaven and all Mankind.  
I therefore thought it would be no small piece of good Service done the Public, to make an open Discovery of those that have been lately found out for such. And this is the only Motive that induced me to set Pen to Paper.  
All the Jesuits in general may be said to be of this number. Their wicked Morals, and the horrid Crimes which have been the Productions of those Morals, are convincing Proofs of what I assert. But among all the whole Gang, of necessity it must be agreed, That Father La Chaise, at this day the King's Confessor, is one that challenges to be ranked among the Topping Hypocrites, as being a Tartuff in a sovereign degree, and one that has found the way to impose, for so many Years together, upon one of the most quicksighted and penetrating Princes in the World: for to think that he willingly shuts his Eyes, in Consideration of the Usefulness of his Counsels, and the Services done him by the Society through his means, is never to be imagined. There are a thousand substantial Reasons against it: and not to insist upon Reports, I shall say no more, then that our Monarch is a Prince that loves Virtue, and hates Vice wherever he meets it; that is to say, with reference to the general Converse of Men, and gaining to himself an outward Applause; and therefore it is not probable, that if he knew it, he would tolerate downright Knavery in his Confessor.  
I do not therefore believe I shall draw the King's Indignation upon me, by unmasking this Hypocrite, as I am about to do in this History. To which purpose I cannot begin better, then with giving the Reader an Exact Portraiture of the Person who is to be the Subject of my Discourse. By which means I shall prepare him for every thing which afterwards he is to expect, so that he will be the less surprised when he shall see so many things that so little correspond with his Character.  
Father La Chaise is Middlesized, Slender enough, and who now goes somewhat Stooping. His Nose Compact, but Large, and somewhat like a Hawk's Beak. His Complexion Fresh and Ruddy, the Marks of a Healthy Constitution: His Mouth a little too much apt to gape and show his Teeth, which are none of the handsomest, though sound enough: His Eyes, which are the most agreeable part of his Face, are Blue, and well enchased. They are usually called the Mirrors of the Soul: but certainly they are not so in him; unless you'll say, That she never shows any more than one Side there, which is Flattery and Complacency. We must confess, he does with his Eyes what he he pleases; but usually he will have 'em to be Mild, Engaging, and full of Friendship. Nor is he less skilful to compose his Mien and Garb, than his Looks. You would swear, did you but see his modest Air, and his affable Behaviour, that he were the best Natured, the most Downright Person, and most easily wrought upon in the World. To Great Personages he is Humble, creeps and cringes; and nothing drops from his Lips but Protestations of Fidelity, Services, and a most entire and absolute Devotion. And as for Ordinary Persons, he hears 'em patiently and courteously to the end; and then always gives 'em good Words, and amuses 'em with Hopes. This is perfectly to be observed in the Audiences that he gives upon Tuesdays and Fridays. Upon those Days you shall always find above Two hundred People in his Antichamber, of all Ranks and Conditions, Citizens, Learned Men, Lawyers; and among them, a great number of your Diminutive Bands, whose Eyes are never off from the Door, and who never hear it open, but they see two or three Benefices coming out. Nevertheless, he hears all these People, without showing the least Disturbance, and has the knack to please 'em all with sweet Sugar-Plumb Words. His Habit very well agrees with his Outward Show of Humility; the Stuff is little different from what the rest of the Society makes use of; and he wears his Gown Two Years, like the Meanest among the Jesuits.  
'Tis true, these petty Mortifications are amply allayed and softened by the Pleasure which he has to see Princes, Dukes, Archbishops, and in a word, all sorts of Persons of the Highest Rank and Quality, come to kiss the Hemm of his Garment, and beg his Protection.  
Thus much in general for his Outside. But his Inside is quite another thing: Nothing in the World more close and hidden; so that unless you are extremely Familiar with him, 'tis a hard matter to Know him. The foul Concealments of his Breast are impenetrable: He is Knave and Wicked beyond Imagination; does Good to Few, Mischief to Thousands; unless it be to the ecclesiastics, to whom he is obliged to distribute Benefices, because that otherwise they would lie vacant. But the Man is unborn for whom he did a Kindness of his own Inclination; or if ever he does one, be confident, 'tis out of some Prospect of Interest. There are two sorts of Persons with whom he is never to be reconciled; Honest Men, and those that are in Favour. The First, because he in nothing resembles 'em; the Second, by reason he is jealous of 'em, and for that he would fain possess the Prince's Ear alone by himself. He loves his Pleasures and his Ease more than any Courtier; and his Inclination leads him to Luxury and Expense. But in regard he knows this would not be the shortest way to maintain himself in the Credit to which he has attained, he keeps himself within Bounds as much as he can. However, he cannot forbear allowing himself a Lackey, and a very neat Coach, with Four the best Horses in Paris. As for his Table, he finds it always spread in the King's Palace; and when he returns to the House of St. Lewis, he fares ne'er a whit the worse for that. But 'tis not there that he makes his most delicate Repasts; for they that would know how this blessed Father governs himself, must go to the fine House which he has built at the end of the Faubourg St. Anthony, which affords a most delightful Prospect to those that walk upon the Bulwark. That's the Place where all the sumptuous Collations and Merry-Meetings are appointed; but they must be his intimate Friends that are invited thither. Many Courtly Adventures happen there, which I shall not recite in this place, because there are several Particulars of which I am yet ignorant, and which I shall take care to inform myself of more at large; and if I find that this little Manual meets with a favourable Reception, I shall impart my further Knowledge another time.  
Whatever Liberty he allows himself in that Place, when he returns from thence, he resumes his Air and Mien of Devotion without the least Trouble in the World. For my part, I cannot apprehend how he is able to strain his Dissimulation so high; but you may give a Guests by this little Draught. One day that he was extremely tired with an Audience of above Five Hours, and that he was already retired to repose himself in his Cabinet, Friar Benedict came to tell him, That the Bishop of Angiers, who was returned from his Province, desired to kiss his Hand. What would that Jansenist have with me? (replied La Chaise, in a great Passion,) I am so plagued with his Visits: Why does he not keep at home? I'll assure him, I'll never run after him— But 'tis my misfortune to be thus perpetually besieged by such kind of Persons. So saying, away he fling out of his Cabinet; and returning to the Bishop, so soon as he perceived him, with open Arms, and with a Countenance wherein Joy and Satisfaction were serenely painted, Oh, Sir! (said he) what an Obligation have you laid upon me, to prevent me with so much Goodness! What a Contentment to my Soul is this Visit of yours! Truly, seeing I have not had the Honour to see you a long time, I have been labouring under most cruel disquiet to know what place I possess in your Heart— I beseech ye, Sir, let me know, Have I the least share of your Affection?— Do me the Favour to list me in the number of your most Humble Servants.  
In this Tone he continued his Familiarity all the time of the Visit, with such an Outward Show of Sincerity, that I knew not whether I was asleep or awake: for you must know, that this Prelate was Mr. Arnauld, his mortal Enemy's own Brother.  
Having given this Portraiture of this Religious Saint. I should think it Impertinent to add any thing farther; and I am also apt to believe, that a Man cannot well know more. I proceed therefore to the Relation.  
Were it my Intention rather to Please my Reader, then to speak Truth, I should follow the Example of a great number of Authors, who would think it a Transgression against the Laws of History, should they write the Life of any Person, without ascribing to him some extraordinary Birth, or signalised by some surprising Events, which in truth very much prepossess and awaken the Attention; but in regard it is not my Design to frame a Romance, I shall only relate things nakedly as they are.  
La Chaise was born at Lion, and descended from a Family that made some Figure among the Burgesses. His Father also had served some time in the Wars; had seen the World, and understood the Manners of it; so that he wanted only an Estate to write Gentleman, as he had a great desire to do. He had several Children, and among the rest, the Person here mentioned; who putting forth early Blossoms of a pregnant Wit, and giving great Hopes, was sent to School; where he made great Progresses in a short time, though he were very debauched, which is a way of living that does not well agree with studious Application. He performed his Philosophical Exercises under Father de Vaux, who was afterwards advanced to the Highest Employments in the Order; and to him it was that he owes all his Fortune, in regard that Father protected and supported him with his Credit upon all Occasions; and while he lived, their Interests were inseparable.  
Some good honest simple Soul may imagine, perhaps, that the Foundation of so firm a Friendship was nothing else but Neighbourly Love and Charity. 'Tis true, that Neighbourly Love had a great share in it; but it was not that Love of our Neighbour which is recommended to us in Scripture.  
In the Year 1644 Our Scholar, who kept a Daughter of Joy, having promised one of his Friends that lived at Mascon to bring her to his House, during the Vacation in Vintage-time, set forth from Lion along with his Love; but Night overtaking 'em, they were constrained to lie in a Village, where there was but one poor Inn. Lafoy Chaise called for a Chamber, and ordered Supper and a Bed to be got ready for his Wife and himself, and then went out to take a walk. He was not gone far, before a certain Knight came to the same inn and desired a Lodging also. The Innkeeper told him, he had but one Chamber, which a Gentleman and his Wife had already bespoke; but that he could make him another Bed in the same Chamber, if he pleased to lie there. The Knight, who had some particular Reasons to be  of Company, was a little scrupulous at first; but in regard he had a great way to the next Village, he resolved to stay. Thereupon he alighted, and after he had set up his Horse in the Stable, went up stairs to the pretended Wife of the pretended Husband, to whom he made very great Compliments, and a thousand Excuses upon the Inconveniences to which he was forced to put so charming a Lady, and for whom he felt the sudden Motions of so high a Respect. The Lady, who was not accustomed to such Sublimities and Raptures of Language, was almost Entranced to hear 'em; and replied to his Civilities in so obliging a manner, that the Knight began to be smitten: besides, he found her very acceptable to his Palate, a curious White Neck, and well turned lovely Arms, and of which she did not seem to be niggardly. All this so inflamed the Knight's Concupiscence, that from Compliments he proceeded to Demonstrations of Affection, and from tender Expressions to Dalliance, and so to the Act itself. The mischief was, that in the heat of their Amours, Forecast was wanting, and they forgot to bar the Door; so that in the fury of the Venereal Combat, they never heard the pretended Husband come up Stairs, who for that reason surprised 'em in illegal Conjunction. Presently La Chaise's Choler appeared all in his Face; out went the Instrument of his Wrath, with which he gave the naked Knight several cooling Slaps of equal Virtue to a Basin of Water; who, instead of defending himself, would fain have been beholding to his Heels. But Lafoy Chaise, resolving to give him sour Sauce to his sweet Meat, took him by the Collar; and as the other struggled to get rid of a troublesome Adversary, off fell his Periwig, and discovered a Shave Crown Alamode de Virorum Sanctorum. La Chaise was not a little surprised to find that the Person he had so well curried was a Priest; but he was almost astonished when he knew him to be Father de Vaux, his Preceptor in Philosophy. How! (said he,) Father, is it you! or do I see a Vision? With that he surveyed him from Head to Foot: And then, 'Tis He; the very individual He, in his own proper Person, (added Signior Cornudo.) In good faith, most Reverend Father, I beg your Pardon for this rude Usage of your Sacred Person; but how was it possible for any Man to have known ye in this Disguise? I would have allowed fifteen Days to all the Fathers of your Convent to have found it out. The Jesuit was ready to hang himself for Shame and Vexation; but seeing there was no remedy, he made a Virtue of Necessity. 'Tis very true, La Chaise, 'tis I; and since you have discovered me, 'tis in vain to make a Mystery of the Business. You are a Person of Worth, and I hope you will use me like a Gentleman. La Chaise assured him, That he had all the reason i' the world to believe so, and that he might sleep in quiet without ever being afraid of suffering by his Indiscretion. Afterwards, he told him how he had brought the Girl from Lion; and that he was carrying her to one of his Friends, to pass away a little time with her, during the Vintage: That he might well thereby perceive that he was no jealous Person; and that if his Anger had transported him a little too far, when he found 'em together, 'twas rather to assert his Honour, than otherwise, and because he looked upon him as an unknown Person that came to rob him of his Mistress upon the King's Highway. But as for you, Sir, (continued he,) I am overjoyed that she pleases ye; and if you think her a Handmaid fit for your farther Delight, you may take her along with you where you judge convenient. Civilities of this nature were not to be refused; so that the good Father accepted his Kindness, and testified his Acknowledgement to La Chaise, by Embraces and Offers of his Service, which you would have thought would never have been at an end. From that time forward they tied themselves together in a most strict Bond of Friendship. And the better to fasten the Knot, they agreed to stay Eight Days together in the same place, and that the Woman should be in Common between 'em.  
After this, La Chaise, being very curious to know the cause of his Disguisement, besought him that he would be pleased to unfold the Truth. Which the good Father granted him with a wonderful deal of frankness; well understanding that the best way to secure the Discretion of a Person that is privy to our Secrets in spite of our Teeth, is to put an entire Confidence in him He declared then, that at the time that he lay at Chaalons, he had insinuated himself into the Favour of a Rich Merchant's Daughter, by whom he had had Two Children; that she was married about two or three years since, and lived in the Country near Bellegarde, where he had given her several Visits already, in Secular Habit, and going for her Kinsman: that her Husband, who was a very good Man, had kindly entertained him; and that the same Occasion had moved him to take another Journey in the Disguise wherein he saw him; having made his Rector believe, that he was gone to see a Gentleman of Dijon, his intimate Friend, and from whom he had counterfeited two or three Letters, importing earnest Business. In short, they concealed nothing one from the other; and their mutual Reliance one upon another produced such a world of Stories as would suffice to make a Volume. But in regard I have too many things of serious Consequence to relate, I shall as slightly as I can, pass over these Fooleries, and only touch upon 'em, when they are of absolute necessity to display the Hypocrisy of my Tartuff, and his Brethren in Iniquity.  
During their stay at the Inn, La Chaise, who tho' lewd and debauched enough, however was not as yet accustomed to Sin without some Scruple of Conscience, could not forbear ask the Father sometimes, how he could reconcile his lose way of Living, with his Obligations that were so opposite. For (said he) you are obliged to Coelibacy by such solemn Vows, the Breaches of which are attended by such Terrible Penalties, that I wonder how you can so easily dispense with 'em. They are not so Opposite as you think for, or as many People imagine (replied the Father) there is a certain Moral which you understand not as yet, and which we never publicly teach in the Schools, because indeed it is not expedient that all the World should know it: we reserve it for strong Stomaches, and such as are able to relish it; but be you careful, and I may in time impart it to your Knowledge, and then you will hear Mysteries that will ravish you with Admiration. I am apt to believe (replied La Chaise) that you will not conceal from me any part of your profound Learning; 'twas for that reason that I submitted myself to your Discipline; and you are obliged to it afresh, by the Friendship which we have renewed by mutual Oaths on both sides; and therefore, Dear Father, vouchsafe to satisfy my Curiosity; and since we are here at Liberty together, why should you defer your Instructions till another time? I have Discretion and Wit enough now both to hear and learn. That's the thing of which I am not well convinced, (answered the Father) for I assure ye, it requires a great deal of Wit and Discretion to understand our Morals. Suppose to yourself at first, that it ranverses all other Morality, and that it leads ye through new and uncouth Ways, but yet more pleasant, and less encumbered; when you have once unshackled your Heels from the Fetters of old and painful Morality, and are become an easy Captive to our new and inviting Morals, you will find those sweet Acquiescencies, that Repose of Mind that were unknown before. For Example: Would not you be glad to have it made out to ye, past all Contradiction, that it is lawful for ye to recreate yourself with Mrs. Magdalen (for that was the Female Sinners Name) without committing a Sin, or any Snubbs of Conscience. Without question, (replyld La Chaise) you could not do me a greater Kindness. Well then (quoth the Devout Father) set your Heart at rest— take it from me, 'tis not a Sin that's worth the ask Pardon for. And this is according to the Decision of our greatest Doctors, whom we call, and that justly too, The Guides to Salvation, and The Lights of the Church. Hear what the great Escobar, our Master says. When a Man is so excessively provoked by the Concupiscence of the Flesh, that having an Opportunity at hand to Commit Adultery, he distrusts his Weakness, and fears his Inability to defend himself from falling into the Transgression; if such a Man sneaks into a House of Debauchery, and there extinguishes the Fire of his burning Lust in the Bosom of a Punk, does he commit a Sin? No, Because he was afraid of committing Adultery, and he had no other way to shun it. And in another Place, A Man that finds himself quite overcome, and just ready to yield to a Temptation that solicits him to abuse the good Nature of a young Virgin that loves him, and would venture a Crack in her Honour for his sake, commits no Sin, if to avoid this Mischief he goes to a common Strumpet; to the end that having allayed the Violence of his Passion, he may be the more Master of himself and the more enabled to resist the Charms of such a strong Temptation. This is express enough: but here is yet a clearer Decision of the same Doctor. Of Two Evils, the least is to be chosen; if it be impossible, but that you must commit either Adultery or Whoredom, avoid the Adultery; You have no other Course to take.  
The Learned Suarez was of the same Opinion. 'Tis never to be disputed, (says he) but that when a Man has not Strength enough to tame his Passions, he may have to do with debauched Women, once or more times, rather than do worse. And in the same place, observe this well, I say farther, That if a Man be of so hot a Constitution, that he cannot live without a Woman, and that he cannot marry without some invincible Obstacle, he shall not commit a Sin in keeping Company with an unmarried Woman, till that Obstacle be removed. This is positive, and decisive and makes as much for me, as it does for you. Then again, Diana, the most subtle of all our Casuists, discourses to a wonder upon this Subject, not leaving the slightest Question unresolved. A Man, (says he) who is constrained by the Strength of his Temptations, and the Temper of his Constitution, commits no Sin when he goes for his Satisfaction to the public Stews, provided he pay the Strumpets; because it is, at that time, their Trade, and the Calling which they live by, and they have no more Honour to lose, nor any Reputation to be sparing of: Not but that if the same Man, fearing to draw a Scandal upon himself, had rather keep a Whore in private, and lie with her as his Wife, 'twould be his better way. But (says he farther) it may be asked, Whether a Man may be constrained to it after a manner not to be dispensed with. To this I answer, That the Lust of the Flesh acts upon some Men, as Hunger upon the Stomach; if then it be agreed, That a Man who is extremely pressed by Hunger, and not able to buy, nor beg Bread, commits no Sin, if he steal no more than will suffice to support Nature, Why should a Man be condemned, who being enforced by the violent Impulses of Nature, lies with a Harlot to whom he gives Money? There can be nothing desired more convincing; this leaves not the minutest Difficulty undetermined. In the mean time, there are a Thousand Paragraphs in our Authors, as clear, and as positive as these, with which my Memory does not furnish me at present; but which I will let you see when you please. I must confess, (replied La Chaise) that this is most wonderful Doctrine to quiet the wambling Conscience of a Sinner, and which will free me from a great many Scruples that often interrupted my Pleasures. I know not how to return you Thanks (dear Father) answerable to the Obligation. I am not sorry (answered the Father) for having given you these Instructions; though I must tell ye, you are not a little obliged to me for it, in regard these Secrets are not revealed Indifferently to all; nay even in our Order, unless it be the the Professors of Four Vows, very few others know these Things. How! (replied La Chaise) Do not all the Father Jesuits know these Things? No,— not by a great many, and though I should say (replied the Father) hardly not a sixth part, I should not lie. In our House, for Example, there is only the Father Rector, the Professors in Theology, the Father-Master, my Colleague, and myself, that are of the Secret Doctrine. How! (answered La Chaise,) What! not Father Le Champs, that Man of Wit and Parts, who pretends there is ne'er a Philosopher in the World but himself? No— (replied the Father,) nor never shall be. He has a Head-piece but ill-furnished, and abounds too much in his own Sense: our Secrets are not safe in the Hands of such Men; we take care how we trust 'em. But (said La Chaise, interrupting him) there's Father De Vernueil, he's no Sieve; he's such a deserving Man, so Wise, so Learned, and besides he stands so highly upon Punctilios of Honour, and the Interests of the Order, that he would be crucified, or by't his Tongue in two and spit it out of his Mouth, before he would blab. 'Tis very true; but notwithstanding all these extraordinary Qualities, he is excluded for ever out of the Society called the Directrix. He has yoked himself under the old Threadbare Principles. with which he is inexcusably intoxicated. Though a New Suarez should drop from the Sky to dispute with and confute him, the headstrong Fool would never recant. We have no need of such wilful Fantastics: we must have docible, pliable, supple Wits, withy-conscienced People▪ that will twine and bend to any Doctrine; not stubborn; flinty-breasted Self-conceits, that must be canonadoed before they wil● yield and surrender to our Reasons and Instructions. I apprehend by this (said La Chaise) that so many Learned Men a● you have from time expelled your Society under some pretence or other of Irregularity, were not of the Directing-Society For otherwise you would not have presumed to put such an Affront upon 'em besides that, you would have been afraid to have exposed yourselves to their Resentment. You may be sure (replied th● Father) they never were: for they wh●● are once admitted, are no longer subject to such usage, nor to any manner o● Correction; unless of their own accords, and out of pure Affection to th● Society, they will submit themselves. An● them we look upon as Sacred Victims that sacrifice themselves for the Honour and Glory of the Order. We have ha● some, not very long since, that were ver● zealous in that respect. Father Alvar, among others, who was so highly in Favour with the King of Spain, having had the misfortune to be surprised by the Duke de Sidonia a-bed with his Wife, was run through the Body in several places; and the Duke, not content with that, was so malicious as to revenge himself upon all the Jesuits in general. To which purpose he sent the wounded Body to the House of the Profession at Noonday: which brought such a Scandal upon 'em, both at the Court, and in the City, that our Fathers durst not peep out of their Boroughs. However, Father Alvar did not die; he was carefully looked to, cured, and lived a long time after. When he was fully recovered, there was a Consultation, What was to be done upon such an Important Occasion as this. The greater part were not for letting the World know he was alive; by that means to free themselves from being blamed for not punishing him according to his Deserts. But He generously offered himself of his own accord; and told 'em, That since his bad Fortune had caused so great a Dishonour to the Illustrious Order of which he had the Advantage to be a Member, and for the Glory of which he would sacrifice a thousand Lives, he would beg no Favour to be showed his Crime; and besought the Fathers to Expel him their Body in the most authentic and ignominious manner that might be; to the end he might remain the Scape-Goat of all the Disgrace and Infamy, and that the Society might be cleansed with Hyssop from it. Which was done with a wonderful deal of sorrow for being forced by a fatal Necessity to deal so severely by so good a Man. But however, wherever he retired, there was nothing omitted for his Consolation. They allowed him forthwith an Annual Pension of Two thousand Crowns; and after that, they procured him a Consulship at Barcelona, which was worth above Two thousand Livres more. By this you may perceive (added the Father) that that there is great Respect shown, and a more than usual Care taken for those that are once privy to the Secret.  
But my dear Father (replied La Chaise) if I forget not, you told me, That to facilitate leave to go and see your old Mistress, you counterfeited Letters to the Father-Rector: What necessity for that? since he being one of the Cabinet-Secret▪ would undoubtedly have given his Consent without such a piece of Fourbery. I'l● tell ye the reason (answered the Father) We rarely make our Superiors privy to our Adventures or Intrigues, for Two Causes. The First, For that naturally every Man is willing to carry his own Business secretly; and because infallibly they would never give us Permission, not for any Scruple of Conscience, as St. Paul says very well; for their Consciences are no way engaged in the matter. In that respect, says the Apostle, Unus quisque in suo sensu abundet: Let every man abound in his own sense. But for the sake of my Brother's Conscience; Fit autem propter conscientiam fratris mei, in consideration of the People, to whom we are to give no scandalous Examples. For it is said, Mat. 18. Vae illi per quem scandalum venit. Now in regard that an amorous Intrigue with a Maid or a Woman is very subject to Discovery, unless you proceed with all the Precautions imaginable; which many times miscarry too, as you see by what has happened so lately to myself; therefore it is, that our Superiors have resolved to suffer none at all, to prevent the great Disorders which otherwise would fall out by their connivance. However, this does not hinder but that every particular Member may take his measures to divert himself the best he can, without any fear of Offending God, provided he carry his Business closely and secretly. For then 'tis no Scandal to any Body but those that think it so themselves. Scio & confido in Domino, (says St. Paul,) quod nihil commune est per ipsum, nisi ei qui existimat quod commune est. You interpret the Text so distinctly, (replied La Chaise,) that he must be a very dull Soul indeed, that does not understand your meaning. But with Submission, I must needs tell ye, That the Passages alleged out of St. Paul, by no means prove it lawful for a Priest to hold a carnal Familiarity with a Woman; for that the Apostle makes not the Distinction upon any Question about Continence, but upon that about Meats sacrificed to Idols. I find (replied the Father) that you have not much conversed with St. Paul, otherwise you would have observed the same Indifferency in him in one respect as in the other; and therefore I did him no wrong to apply his Decision as to Abstinence to my Controversy about Continency. St. Pau● writes a whole Chapter to prove tha● Priests might lawfully Marry and appropriating the same Permission to himself Nunquid non habemus potestatem (says he) mulierem sororem circumducendi sicut & caeteri Apostoli, etc. He also in another place taxes of Anti-Christianism a certain Sect that would not suffer their Priests to Marry. And when he speaks of the Qualities requisite in a Bishop, he says in express terms, That he would have him to be the Husband of One Wife; and the Greeks, who without Question have preserved the Ceremonies of the Church in their greatest Purity, suffer their Priests to Marry to this day.  
These would be very proper Arguments, (answered La Chaise,) were the Dispute about Lawful Marriage. You are much in the right on'nt, (replied the Jesuit) but since it pleased our Lords assembled in Council to forbid us Matrimony, it behoves us to provide for ourselves some other way: Necessity has no Law, you know it well enough; and it is so ancient a Truth, that we find it confirmed by several Examples of the Old Testament. Thamar, the fair Daughter of Judah, seeing that her Father-in-Law did not provide her a Second Husband, according to his Promise, and not being able to live without a Man, did she not sit waiting for him upon the Highway, in the Dress of a Harlot, on purpose to allure her Father to get her with Child? and who knows but in that Disguise she might prostitute herself to several others? However, when he rightly understood the matter, he was so far from condemning her, that he ingenuously confessed himself in an Error, and cried out to his Daughter, Me Justiores. Ruth, the Daughter of Naomi, was she not encouraged and set on by her own Mother to go to bed to Boaz, after she found that all the dumb Shows and Artifices that she had made use of to put the good Man in mind of his Duty, had proved fruitless? And to deal freely with ye, In my Opinion, she had a great deal of Reason for what she did; for there is nothning so effectual to make a Man yield to Temptation, as a Pretty Woman a-bed with him. Would you have a more convincing Example than this, read in Genesis how the Daughters of Lot behaved themselves. After they and their Father had made their Escapes from the Fire of Sodom, they found themselves as good as Widows in the flower of their Age, when they had most need of Husbands, and out of hopes of ever having any, because the Old Man would not let 'em marry to any but those of his own Religion; and whither to go for one of those, they knew not. In the mean time, Desire of Issue pressed 'em, and would not let 'em be at rest; thereupon, without any Hesitation or Scruple of Conscience, they so ordered it, as to make their own Father quench their Fires. Nor does the Scripture blame 'em for it in the least. What d'ye say to all this? (added he)— If you have any Objections to make, why don't ye make 'em? What should I say? (answered La Chaise) You have stopped my Mouth; and I find your Reasons so apposite and convincing, that I submit with the greatest Pleasure i' the world; ravished with Joy that I have found so short and so commodious a Way to Salvation: for I make no question, but that you are able to remove all my other lesser Scruples, who have thus dextrously rid me of my greater Doubts. Ay, Ay, we'll remove 'em at any time, I warrant thee, (replied the Father, grasping him hard by the Hand) Alas, it would be great pity to leave a poor Conscience to be preyed upon by the Stings and Worms that infest it. Do but you submit yourself to Instruction, and never trouble yourself any farther. You have no more to do but to come to me regularly every day in private, and I will discover to ye the bottom and Marrow of true Theology and Morality, of which others only know the outward Rind and Shell. La Chaise gave him a thousand▪ Thanks, and promised him an entire Devotion of his Fortune and Person to the Society, and to him in particular.  
Thus you see how furiously and desperately Men give themselves up to whatever flatters their Passion and Irregularity. La Chaise was of this number; his Inclination carried him to Vice and Debauchery, and made him slight all the Warnings and Admonitions of his Conscience. No wonder then, that he so greedily embraced a Doctrine that annihilates all manner of Sin by authorising it, and soothes up the Wicked with an Insensibility and a Lethargy so dear to 'em.  
This was the Foundation and Original of that constant Amity which continued between these two Persons, as you shall hear by the Sequel. But before they parted, they bethought themselves which way to continue the Commerce between Father de Vaux and the Damsel. For in regard she was Common and Public, he could not go to her Lodging without great prejudice to his Reputation, upon any Pretence whatsoever. Thereupon it was concluded, That she should put herself into Man's Apparel, and go two or three times a Week to the Father's Chamber, under the Name of Sieur Le Brun, of the pretended Reformed Religion, who having a mind to quit his Profession, desired first to be satisfied in some Scruples: and they gave her a Part which she acted extremely well for some time. But there happened an Adventure which had like to have spoiled all. The Father-Master, who was an Italian, and one of those that are more addicted to the most infamous of Pleasures, observing the great Zeal of this Young Man in pursuance of his Conversion, and his Assiduity to be instructed in order to it, mistrusted that there was some Mystery at the bottom which all the World did not understand; and being confirmed every day more than other of his Suspicions, resolved to watch 'em so narrowly, that they should not escape his better Satisfaction. To which purpose he left nothing omitted, and had often tried to find out some Hole to peep into his Chamber. But Father De Vaux had so diligently stopped up all the Chinks, that all his Attempts to discover any thing that way, proved in vain. However, that affected Precaution confirmed him more and more that he lay under no Mistake; besides that, he saw the fair Novitiate come every day, which wonderfully augmented his Desires. At length he found a way to see with his own Eyes what he had such a mind to know; and that too, much better than he could have done through the Chinks of the Door. One day, that happened to be a considerable Holiday, he feigned himself sick; which was a lawful Excuse for his not going to the Choir; and at the same time that the rest were at their Devotions, up he got, with a Wimble in his Hand, and went to Father De Vauxes Chamber-Door, where he made a sloping Hole, from whence he could see directly to his Bed: after which he stopped it up with a Peg of the same Colour, and so exactly, that it was as much as he could do to pick it out again, when he had occasion, with the Point of a Penknife. This done, he returned to his Bed, very well satisfied with his Day's Work. All that Day he lay perdue. At length the handsome Lad, who had so much disturbed his Rest, entered the Father's Chamber, and away went he to his Post; where, in a little time, he observed how the good Father Catechi●'d his Pupil. He let 'em alone till the Father was just ready to enter the Port; but then he bounced with so much Impatience, that Father De Vaux, who had hardly time to put on his , was in a peck of Troubles. Well, in short, he opened the Door, and the Master of the Novices entering, and shutting it after him, In truth, Father (said he) you take a most pleasant Course to Convert Heretics: your Zeal is extremely to be commended, and aught to be made known; and therefore I shall not fail to inform the whole Fellowship, to the end they may consider of a Way to Reward ye according to your Merit. What d'ye mean? (replied Father De Vaux,) Pray explain yourself more clearly; for I profess, I understand ye not. I mean (answered the Father-Master) That if you did not desire to be seen, you should have taken better Measures. You had exactly well stopped up all the Chinks and Crannies in the Door, but by misfortune you did not heed the biggest, showing him that which he had made the day before. Oh!— (cried Father De Vaux,) you have betrayed me— but for all that, you will not be believed.— Good God (quo' the Father-Master,) Not be believed▪ How simply you talk;— But let us take the wisest Course— Give me a share of the Cake, and there shall not a word be said more— You are a rational Man, and know the common Practice upon such Occasions as these— I have as much Zeal as you, and should be glad to give some Instructions also to this well-meaning Youth. Father De Vaux accepted the Proposal, and the Bargain was concuded upon the spot. Thereupon the Father addressed himself to the young Spark; but in the midst of his Caresses found him to be a Girl; which did not a little vex him, in regard that Males were more pleasing to his Palate then Females; but for want of better Accommodation, he made use of what he had.  
Much about the same time La Chaise had finished his studies in Philosophy; and one day as he was walking with the Father De Vaux, Well, (said he to his Scholar,) and what Course of Life or Profession do you intent to follow? for it is now high-time to bethink yourself— You are very near Twenty Years of Age, and those Years require that you should begin to look about ye.  
In truth, Father, (answered La Chaise) the more I think of it, the less I know my own Mind— 'Tis a Business of great Consequence— Pray Father, give me your Advice.— With all my heart, (replied the Father) but it behoves me to know your Inclinations, and how your Parents stand affected. My Parents (answered La Chaise) would have me betake myself to the Bar; more-especially my Mother has a strange Fancy for that Employment. But for my part, when I consider how little I have to trust to at home, I mind but little their Directions. I am a Person of Courage, and very Ambitious withal; and I am for making my Fortune, I care not how, nor which way. What should I do with a long Gown, that have no Money to buy Offices? I should rather choose to be a Soldier; for so I might hope to be a Marshal of France, Besides that, we find many who were but miserable Corporals, that now ride in their lackered Coaches: What think you, Father? If you would take my Advice, (answered the Father) you shall neither be Lawyer nor Soldier. As for the first, you have very well observed, That there is no Advancement to be got by it without Money; and I say the same of Physics, which you have not mentioned: and as for being a Soldier, that's less your Business then either of the other two. We live not now in those Times when the Bravery of a Soldier was sufficient to make him a Captain, and to advance him to be a General. 'Tis in the Army, as every where else, if your Money does not make the Distinction first of all, were you a Caesar in Valour, you may carry a Snap-sack as long as you live, and the Generals never know whether ever there were any such Man living i' the World. How many Soldiers have performed surprising Actions, that in Twenty four Hours were utterly forgot. I confess, there are some who attain to Preferment, but they are very rare; and if you can name Ten, there are Fifty thousand to be opposed against every one that have perished through Hunger and Misery. Add to this, That it is a Trade whereby nothing is to be got but by dry Blows. An Iron Arm, or a Woodd'n Leg, are the chiefest Reward of your Services, and happy he too that escapes so. Then again, Are you able to endure all the Fatigues inseparable from War, as Heat, Cold, Hunger, Lying upon the Ground, and sometimes in the Water, the Wind and Rain, and all the Injuries of the Wether; Marching at all Hours, and all Seasons; want of Sleep, and a thousand more. For my part, I am of Opinion, That Rest and Ease are two the chiefest Blessings we enjoy; and that none but Madmen prefer Tumult, Blood and Slaughter before 'em.  
You ravish me with your Discourse (replied La Chaise) the main thing is, how to come at this Rest and Ease. For I must confess ingenuously, That had I Ten thousand Livres a Year, I would never seek for 'em otherwhere then at home; but in regard I have not wherewithal to live, I must be forced to take some course or other. Very good (replied the Father)— What think ye of being a Jesuit?— You cannot take a better Course— Let it Blow, let it Thunder, you shall be always sure of good Bread, good , a soft Bed, and to be honoured and respected by all Men— What would ye have more? I do not believe 'twill suit with my Genius replied La Chaise) I love my Pleasures, and am afraid of every thing that resembles Restraint and Subjection, or any other Torment of the Mind. Is it possible (quo' the Father, interrupting him) that you should remember so little of all that which I entrusted to your Breast— Good now, who told you that Pleasures were banished from our Society? Did you ever see the contrary with your own Eyes? Or do you find me to be a Man that is irreconcilable to all Mankind? All the rest are like myself; that is to say, all those that may be truly called Jesuits. We love good Cheer, the Fair Sex, Honours and Preferments; and we have got the knack to enjoy all these things, without giving any Scandal to any body, or wounding our own Consciences. Name me, if you can, any other Body or Society of Men, any Condition of People in the World, where you shall find the same Advantages.  
What you say, Father, is very true, (replied La Chaise) and enough to make a deep Impression in my Mind; but I cannot away with a Life so level and smooth, without any change or variety, as yours: such as the first day is, such is the second; they neither Ascend nor Descend, which in my Opinion is a very melancholy and irksome manner of living. For my part, I should like a little Motion, a little Intrigue; not to lie still i' the World  like a Stone, without having any share in the Bustle of it.  
This was that which I expected from ye, (replied the Father,) but if this be all that withholds ye, I find I shall fix your Resolutions before you go out of this Garden. You must know then, that there is no Society of Men in the World that plunge themselves into Business more than we do, or where Men of Wit and Merit more easily advance themselves: such Men as these are sought after with all the care imaginable; and you would wonder, at the end of five or six Years, to see 'em Heads of a Party. Good Luck and Preferment, are so frequent among us, and so Prodigious as passes Imagination. Peter Gerard, our Assistant-General, is the Son of a Cobbler of Reims; and Father Creps, the present Emperor's Confessor, is the Son of a Hat-maker: and as for our present Provincial, as great a Lord as he is, I knew myself, that when he came first to the College, he had not Shoes to his Feet; yet now he is grown a Considerable Man, taketh State upon him, and gives all the World occasion to talk of him. Were you one of the Ordinary, one of those Petty Genius's that are to be won by Reasons that carry a General Vogue, I could tell ye, That there is no Society in the World more Holy than the Society of Jesus, which every day sacrifices her dearest Children for the Conversion of Turks and Pagans, among whom they are continually sent; and that 'tis a sign that God accepts the Blood of his Martyrs, since he permits so many Millions of Souls, even whole Kingdoms, to be Converted to the Faith by this Means. I could give you a List of all the famous Doctors that our Order has produced; of several Kings and Princes that have desired Admittance into it; and of the Favours that God has bestowed upon us through the Intercession of our Saints and blessed Members. But in regard you are my Friend, and a Man of Sense, I shall tickle your Fancy another way, and bait my Hook to catch such Dolphins as you with your own Worldly Interest, which ought upon all Occasions to be your principal Aim. For as for your Salvation, you may look after that as well in a King's Palace, as in an Anchoret's Cell. And to this purpose I shall give you a True and Natural Idea of the Congregation in general.  
Set before your Eyes a Little, but Potent Republic, from whence Poverty and Misery are absolutely banished; where the least Happy and the least Considerable have enough to stop their Mouths from complaining of Fortune, and largely to supply all the Necessities of Humane Life, without being obliged to work and tire themselves. A State wherein you never hear any Discourse of Wars, Torments, Taxes or Imposts; where for want of Payment, you are never exposed to the Taunts and Threats of a Creditor, or to the Affronts of Bailiffs; a Country where you may live in Peace and Gladness, without fearing lest a Knave of a Debtor should Break in your Debt; or that an Enemy should set fire to your Barns, without being disturbed in Mind, because the last Harvest was not so good as the former. But imagine, That in these Fortunate Islands you have your Corn ready Thrashed in your Barns, your Wine ready Turned up in your Cellars, and your Table regularly spread without taking any Care, and carking where you shall Dine. Nor is this all; the Government of this State is purely Democratical; every particular Person has a share in it, more or less; and that which is the chiefest thing of all, there is no Injustice done to any Body. The most considerable Employments are distributed and proportioned according to Merit, without any Respect to precedency of Birth; so that Wit and Ability are sufficient to entitle a Man to the Highest Dignities; to which, when a Man has once attained, he enjoys 'em for Life; he knows no such Thing as Ranversement of Fortune. Now tell me seriously, does not this faithful Description move ye? and would not you be glad to be admitted into such a Government? However what I have told ye already, is but a Trifle to what I am going to tell ye; and yet as true as the rest.  
This Petty Republic by her wise Laws and prudent Constitutions, is arrived at the Universal Monarchy, to which so many Kings and Emperors have in vain aspired; and all this too, without drawing a Sword, or shedding so much as one drop of Blood, or making use of any other means but only Persuasion. Bu● in regard it would signify little to hav● attained to so high a Degree of Glory and not be able to support it; for that reason she has divided herself into severa● particular Communities, which she ha● dispersed over all the Kingdoms and Provinces of the World, to the end she may be every where at one and the same time and always within reach to prevent th● doing of any thing to her Prejudice. 〈◊〉 it not to be admired that she has so successfully accomplished all this, without Armies and Soldiers, and that she has so easily upheld herself? True it is, that this Wise and wonderful Government has not been always exempted from Misfortunes: we have seen that certain People have revolted from her, and with Ignominy have expelled some of her Communities. But these were Tempests that have been soon allayed by the prudent Conduct of those that steer the Helm of Affairs; so that they have returned Victorious into those Places from whence they have been ejected with Disgrace. You laugh (continued the Father, looking upon La Chaise;) however I tell ye no Fables; and if you do but consider, you will find that I have told ye nothing but what is certain, and that I have given ye a True Emblem of our Order. For in short, it must be agreed, that it is at this Day the Primum Mobile of all the Potentates of Europe; we form not only a State in a State, but a State in several States, and a Regnant Republic, in the Universal Republic; and therein consists our great Advantage: for if by Misfortune we lose on the one side, we are always certain to gain on the other. And how indeed is it possible we should miscarry, since we play sure. There is not any Secret in the Cabinets of Kings or Princes but we can fish it out. We have People every where that inform us of every Thing; and who suffer not any Resolutions to be taken contrary to our Interests. Which being so, do you not see that we are the Persons that Reign and Govern, tho' indirectly?  
'Tis something that cannot but choose to be very tickling to a Jesuit to be employed in great Affairs, and to see himself caressed by a Prince who thinks him a convenient Instrument to carry on his Designs. You have then a fair Field to expatiate in, and if you do but never so little know how to manage Fortune, there are no Grandeurs, to which you may not aspire.  
But (said La Chaise) 'tis a Thing would be known, whether I may be so happy to be admitted of the Number. Never doubt it (replied the Father) you have a smooth, insinuating, flattering Wit, and a little Knavish withal; nor do you want a quick and fiery Imagination, which however destroys not the Solidity of your Judgement. These are the People that we want, and with such Talents as these you can never fail of Success. Believe me then; be one of Us, and you will find yourself no loser by the Bargain: Nevertheless, I would not have you take up this Resolution before you understand us rightly; and therefore come and see me every day, and I will discover to ye the most Hidden Maxims of our Secret Doctrine. After this, he carried him into the Library, and gave him Escobar, Diana, Matchivel, etc. Here (said he) are Books worth Gold, read 'em, and pick what you can out of 'em; to morrow you shall give me an Account of what you have observed, and we will discourse together. After this, they took their Leaves, and La Chaise went home.  
The next day he returned to the Convent, at what time Father de Vaux, no sooner saw him, but he asked him whether he had read any Thing. Yes, (said La Chaise,) I began with Matchiavel, because he treats of Politics, which is a Study that I relish very well; 'tis a very good Book, and I assure ye I read on with a great deal of Pleasure. Oh— (said Father de Vaux, interrupting him,) he is a most wonderful Man, and one whose Decisions we admit in Matter of Probability, with as much satisfaction as those of Escobar himself. Truly (said La Chaise) to speak in general, they are very excellent, but there are some that are also very bold: as for Example, he asserts, That one or more Persons, tho' People of Worth and Probity, tho' they have done the State important Services, may be sacrificed, when the Public Good is concerned; and that upon such an occasion: Prince ought not to scruple the violating of his Word and Promise, nor the most sacred Treaties. This is a little too Ran●. How! (cried the Father,) what do you find there contrary to Reason and right Equity? is not the Public Welfare infinitely to be preferred before the Consideration of any Private Person? and would it be just, that for the Preservation of some few Persons, who at most have done no more than their Duty, a Hundred others no less worthy should perish. Thus yo● see the Absurdity of this Proposition; and it is the same in respect of the Faith of Treaties, which, as you pretend, should be inviolably preserved: for you must consider, my Dear, that a Prince is to have no other Prospect in his Eye then the Welfare of his Kingdom; that is to be the Centre of all his Actions and 〈◊〉 Politics, from which he is not to stir 〈◊〉 Inch, for the sake of his Conscience. An● as it is only for the Good of his Kingdom that he makes Treaties, they are to be looked upon no otherwise than as the Means to attain that End. But so soon as through the Revolution of things here below, and the Conjuncture of Times, those Means become Obstacles, 'tis evident, That from that very time, those Treaties are dissolved, because they no longer concur to the End for which they were made.  
I know this very well (replied La Chaise) but after all, of necessity, this Doctrine trails after it very evil Consequences, and gives a very fair and large Liberty to Princes to break all manner of Allyances, the most solemnly sworn, and to invade their Neighbours when they think themselves the most secure. No question of it (replied the Father) and it is one of the most Noble Prerogatives of Sovereigns. Certainly a Prince would be a very miserable Creature, if he were so tied to his Word, that he could never unloose himself from it. Every time you argue upon this Subject, never wag from the Principle, which is the only Foundation upon which you are to build; viz. A Prince is to have no other Prospect in his Eye, than the Good and Glory of his Kingdom. So then he may do any thing to procure it, provided he be a Catholic; and if he has a sufficient Strength to Conquer all the World, we give him free Liberty to do it. 'Tis true, that in so doing, he will Dethrone several Kings and Princes that for several Ages enjoyed the Inheritance of the Sovereignty; he will strike Dread and Terror wherever h● marches; he will shed Rivers of Blood▪ and he will reduce infinite numbers o● Widows and Orphans to Despair. Bu● all these Calamities are but slight and in considerable, in Comparison of the Goo● that will accrue thereby. For first of all the Victor will ascertain Peace to all the Earth; which without Contradiction in this Mortal Life, is the greatest of a Blessings, in regard that no body will b● in a Condition to raise Combustion, o● withstand the Conqueror; he will ma●● wise and just Laws, which will contribution the one side to Universal Felici● and Tranquillity; he will procure, with out any Obstruction, the Advancement of the Catholic Faith and the Church of God; he will take care th● Arts, Sciences and Trade shall flourish among his Subjects: And lastly, we shall see another Golden Age upon Earth. If this be the only way to bring it back, (replied La Chaise, interrupting him) we are not very like to see it again. That's my fear too (replied the Father) however, I speak this at present only by way of Supposition, to make ye sensible, and to show ye, as with a Fescue, That when the Mischief is less than the Good which is proposed, there never ought any scruple to be made of committing the Lesser Mischief to attain the Greater Good. This is our grand Maxim, and the Foundation of the Secret Doctrine, which we received from the Divine Escobar, our Master, and of which we shall give him a good Account. Did you never observe that Noble and Magnificent Sentence which is set up in Capital Letters in most of our Churches and Colleges, AD MAJOREM GLORIAM DEI? Few People understand the mysterious Sense of those words; they are put up for an Eternal Admonition to the Faithful to have only that same GLORY ●●●ore their Eyes; to procure it at any ●ate; and to that end, boldly to sacrifice Parents, Friends, Duty, Honour, nay, and Prince himself too, if there be a necessity. Every thing is to be thought Just and Reasonable at the Moment that you propose it to yourself. Let Heaven and Earth, and all the Creatures therein perish, provided that God be Glorified thereby. This is the Spirit of our Society, wherewith Garnet, Orcoln, and so many other Great Men of our Order were inspired, when they outdared both Fires and Wheels, to assassinate those Heretic Princes that oppressed the Church of God.  
Reverend Father (replied La Chaise methinks you run a little too far in th● Transports of your Zeal: but to spea● sincerely, this Doctrine is so extraordinary that a Man must have a Faith as extraordinary to jump with it. At least, a Man would be satisfied first, whether the Doctors of th● Church approved it, and whether it be authorised by any Example of Holy Scripture. A very pleasant Scruple indeed (replied the Father, in a great heat)— Goo● now, who d'ye take me to be? a Ma● that broaches Heretical or Absurd Opinions? I'd have ye to know, that when ever I assert a Proposition, I have always a Proof at hand. And as for this, I'll show it ye all along in the Writings of above Fifty of the most Illustrious Authors that ever the Church produced; the Learned Suarez, Diana the Subtle, Sancius, Descaltilius, Escobar the Divine, Trufenk, Sanches, Bellarmin, Beccanus, Layman, Baronius, Bauni, Reginald, Tolet, Amicius, Tilitius, Lessius, Molina, Cotton, Le Moine, together with a great many others, which I would have ye to read twenty times over, from one end to the other, and get 'em by heart. All these Doctors will tell ye, That Mischief ceases to be Mischief from the very moment that any Good accrues by it. Now if you want Examples out of Scripture, I'll undertake to cite ye Ten pro, for Ten con. Judith, that Famous Heroess who saved her Country from Assyrian Bondage, never scrupled to assassinate a Great General who loved her tenderly, and from whom she had received a thousand Favours; and many People believe, that the better to bring about her Design, she had not spared to sacrifice her Honour to him: and for my part, I am of that Opinion; for what Pretence could ●he have otherwise to lie in his Tent.  
Jael, upon whom the Scripture makes so Noble a Panegyric, did she not put a Great Man to Death that fled to her House for Sanctuary, without any regard to the Laws of Hospitality, so highly in request among the People of Israel? And Lot, the only good Man that God thought worthy to be exempted from the Destruction of Sodom, did he not offer to prostitute his two Daughters to the Mobile of the City, provided they would go home and let the two Young Men that were in his House alone? And at another time, the Levite that lived in the Mountain of Ephraim, did he not surrender up his own Wife to the Beastliness of the Inhabitants of Guilha, who teaz'd her to that degree, that she died the same Night? There are a Hundred Stories in the Holy Scripture as corroborating which it would be needless here to repeat, since what I have said already is enough to clear your Doubts. I shal● only desire ye to reflect upon the Conduct of the Holy See, in the like case▪ Time out of mind it has tolerated and protected Courtesans in Rome, for no other Reason then to prevent a Disorder otherwise inevitable. But that whic● will surprise ye much more, is this, That there was a Pope about Two hundred and fifty Years ago, who out of his mere Pity upon Humane Frailty, (an Example rarely to be paralleled) made a Present to the Venetians of Three hundred of those Ladies of Pleasure.  
Since his Zeal was so profuse that way (replied La Chaise) he would have done better to have bestowed 'em upon the Monks; perhaps he might have prevented a great many foul Enormities. You think I Jest (replied the Father) but certain it is, that it would be very well done of the Pope to allow 'em Wives; and if the Huguenots desired no other Reformation of the Church, I would be of their Religion. I believe it, i' my Soul (replied La Chaise, laughing) and for my part, I swear to ye, were that Liberty allowed in your Houses, it should be one of the first things I did to take your Advice. However, I find that I must resolve upon something; and you are almost within a hair's breadth of persuading me with your bewitching Tongue. I had thought Religion had preached nothing but Austerity, Continence, Abstinence, and ●uch like emaciating Virtues: but since you assure me, That the Laws, and Religion of your Order, allows a Man to satisfy his Love, and Ambition, which are my darling Passions, I'll never seek any farther for what I find here, and so I resign myself wholly into your Hands. How glad am I, (cried the Father, embracing him, to see your Inclinations so virtuously bend; for I love ye tenderly, and I should have been extremely sorry, should we have been obliged to separate at the beginning of our Friendship.  
I shall not trouble myself to make a long Relation of the manner how he was received; 'tis sufficient to let yet know, that he took the Habit at Lion and there spent the Years of his Novitiateship, which were not very harsh, a● you may well conjecture, in regard the Father-Master, Father de Vaux, and He were all of a Club toward the maintenance of the Girl beforementioned Afterwards he went to Dijon to perfect himself in Theology, under Father d'Aubrai, reputed one of the most able Me● of the Order. Besides, Father de Va●● wrote to him in the behalf of Father la Chaise, with all the Earnestness imaginable: and because there was something singular in the Letter, I thought fit to insert it.  
Most Reverend Father,  
OUR Father Rector has resolved, by my Advice, to send You this New Coad-jutor, to study Theology under the Direction of Your Reverence. He had a Design to have sent him to Father Le Goust, at Chaalon; however I dissuaded him, though with much ado; my perfect Devotion to your Interests, not permitting me to suffer, that a Person so hopeful, and promising, should be preferred to any other but yourself. For I must do him that Justice, that I never saw any one admitted, that was ever stocked with proner Inclinations for our purpose. He has an admirable Memory, a quick Imagination, a smooth, and flattering Wit, is a Master in the Art of Dissimulation, and never did Man know better how to keep a Secret. Under the outward show of a singular openheartedness, he accommodates himself, with so much ease, to all sorts of Humours, and Genius's, as if he never had any Inclinations, but theirs. In a word, he is a Proteus, that can change himself into all Forms, and carries 'em so well, that they seem to be natural to him. Now, Reverend Father, judge what may be expected from such a hopeful young Man of so much Merit: He has enough in him to make one of the greatest Men of the Order. I recommend him therefore, with all the Affections of my Heart to your Reverence, and beg of ye not to deny him the Knowledge of the Secret Doctrine: for though he be but Young, his Wit, and his rare Talants ought to be preferred before all other Considerations. It is but Just, that they who are so signally distinguished should enjoy some Privilege above others. If your Reverence vouchsafes me this Favour, as I dare presume you will, I shall be no less sensible of it, then if I had received it myself. Honour me with Your Commands, and never question the Sincerity, with which I profess myself to be Yours, etc.  
Lion, March 24th. 1646.  
This Letter from Father de Vaux, proved as effectual as could be desired. Father d'Aubrai made it his Business profoundly to instruct his Disciple in all the Mysteries necessary for the Knowledge of a Jesuit of the first Magnitude.  
Being arrived at proper years, he was ordained a Priest, and some time after preached with general Applause. Soon after he was sent to Paris, where he remained several years in the House in St. James's-street; and in regard that vast and populous City is the most proper Place in the World for Intrigues and Cabals, La Chaise in a short time became one of the most forward and active upon those Occasions; so that within the space of Five years that he tarried there, he knew and was known to a great Number of Eminent Persons. Nor did his easy Access to Persons of Quality, beget in him a Neglect of Men of Learning, whose Company he much frequented, and became intimate with some of 'em. Among others M. de Benserade, and M. de Scarron, were of his familiar Acquaintance; and the latter had entered into so strict a Friendship with him, that there was never a day went over their Heads but they were together. And indeed, I am obliged to say this in praise of Father la Chaise, that he had always a great Esteem for Learned Men; whether it were, that by that means he would persuade the World that he were so himself, or that it were the Effect of his own Inclination, I will not determine. Besides, he was very constant in his Friendships contracted; as for Example, with Father de Vaux, Mr. Spen, as much a Huguenot as he was, and several others. 'Tis true that his Interest had always a share in his Friendship; for he had received a Thousand Kindnesses from all those Persons; whereas, whenever he did them any, 'twas always to be believed that he considered himself in the first place. Under this Hypothesis, I comprehend whatever he did for Madam de Maintenon, the Widow of his good Friend. For what could he do more for his own Interest, then to set up for a Favourite, a Woman of whom he had been so well assured for so long a time. However it were, that little Good which glimmers in him is clouded with a Witness, by the abounding Crimes of his Life. But let us return to our History.  
From the time that he left Lion, Father de Vaux, with whom he had all along held a very regular intercourse by Letters, had had Fortune so favourable to ●im, that having passed through all the several Degrees of the Order, he was at length come to be Provincial, and kept ●is Station at Dijon. So soon as he found himself advanced to that Dignity, he sent ●or his dearly and wellbeloved la Chaise, ●s well for the enjoyment of his good Company, and to take his Advice, as that ●e might be ready at hand for any preferment, which it lay in his power to procure him.  
Moreover, he stood in need of his Assistance in an Amorous Voyage, wherein ●e had embarked himself with a Lady that was one of the Prettiest Women in the City, and wherein there was nothing of greater Importance than Secrecy. So much the rather because she was his own Niece, and the Wife of an aged Precedent of the Parliament, who was looked ●pon to be one of the most jealous Cinque and Quatres i' the Province. It may be wondered, perhaps, that seeing there are ●o many Women i' the World whose Hearts are none of the most obdurate, why the pious Father did not address his Vows and his Orisons to some one of Them, rather than engage himself in a detestable Commerce of this nature. But to that I answer, That when a M● has once arrived to a certain Degree o● Corruption, not only the most enormous Crimes cost no more than you● Peccadillo's, but there is also a greate● Titillation and chuckling Delight in committing 'em; according to the Notion 〈◊〉 an Italian Lady, who drinking Snow 〈◊〉 the Heat of Summer, cried out, Why 〈◊〉 it not as well a Sin to drink fresh and fresh?  
'Tis very probable, that the Provincial De Vaux was of the same Opinion: fo● 'twas neither haphazard, nor any proffered Opportunity, that made him 〈◊〉 easily surrender to Temptation. Rath●● it might be said, That the subject of 〈◊〉 Amours was remote from him; and th● he had a Hundred Obstacles to surmo●● before he could accomplish his Desig● not only in respect of the Lady who w● not easily overcome, but in respect 〈◊〉 the Husband, who had the Treasure 〈◊〉 his conjugal Sheets always vigilante watched by a Daughter by his first Wi●● and an old Governante that never woul● let her stir out of her sight. Nevertheless, our godly Provincial was so enchanted with his Niece, that he could not 〈◊〉 Night nor Day. He took a Resolution several times, to make her sensible of his Love; but in regard he was not sure she would hearken to his Protestations, and no less afraid of a Hurricane about his Ears, he was a long time before he durst make any Attempt; contenting himself only to make her a Thousand Protestations of his Service, and Fidelity, which being only in general Terms, at first were looked on no otherwise then the Effects of an extraordinary Friendship. But 'twas not ●ong before she understood the meaning of his zealous Applications, without the Help of Divination. For happening one Day to find her alone, he explained himself in Terms so plain, and easy, that ●●was no difficult thing for her to understand his meaning without a Comment. At first she put on her serious Looks, and seemed to be extraordinary surprised at ●uch an unfolding of his Thoughts, so Extraordinary, and so little expected ●rom a Person of his Coat, and her own Uncle. But in regard he was not a Man ●o be so easily put off, and for that he was well acquainted with the Person he had ●o deal with, he stood his ground, and returned to the Charge several times. Forgive me, Reader, for not repeating all the Discourses that past between 'em, nor all the Expostulations that the Provincial used, which I fear me, would be too tedious.  
'Tis enough to tell ye the Lady surrendered, and that in less than a Month the Provincial had gained the full Accomplishment of all his Wishes. The Lady also seemed to be very well pleased with her new Alliance; and there were those Reasons for frequent Society in this, that she could not have met with in any other. The Quality of Uncle stifled all the Clamours of Suspicion. However this Uncle was a Jesuit, and that was sufficient to make those People that were concerned to be the more diligent upon the Watch.  
They had by this time tasted the Pleasures of their criminal Love, with all the Freedom that could be expected for abov● Six Months together. But so much amorous Pastime would not satisfy 'em; and and therefore, as People that are never contented with Pleasures, when confined to Limits, they seemed to be in torment both, because they could not consummate their Delights between Two Sheets▪ which was impossible. For though the old Precedent had lain from his Wife for some time, she was ne'er a whit the more at liberty for that, because the Daughter-in-Law lay constantly with her in her Father's Room. The Lady did all she could to win her to her Party, by Civilities, by Complacencies, and little Presents; but no likelihood of Success. We shall never compass our Design, (said she to the Provincial) unless we can find a way to provide a Sweetheart for my Husband's Daughter, that may be at our Devotion, and who acting by concert with Us, may procure us the means to spend some Nights together. Say ye so, (answered the Father) d'ye think her Inclinations are such that she may be caught in a Love-Trap. There is nothing so certain (replied the Lady) I know, and am as sure of it, as if I were in her Belly, that she is no less sensible of Love then myself, and is vexed to the very Soul that no body Courts her: 'Tis not the first time she has had a Sweet heart; she understands as much, in that particular, as You, or I: The only business is to find out a Man that we may confide in; one that will not betray us to please his Mistress who desires nothing more than my Ruin, and this is that which I believe to be impossible. If that be all, and that a Jesuit● will please her, who is no Curmudgeon neither, we'll find her out one that shal● do her Business— How! a Jesuit (replied the Lady)— she'd be gla● of a Capuchin, rather than fail;— sen● for him I beseech ye,— the sooner the better.— He's not i'th' City, (replied the Father) but I'll give order tha● he shall be here very speedily; and so soo● as he comes, we'll put our Irons i' the Fire my Life for yours it shall be none of hi● Fault if we miscarry. All this while the Provincial meant Father La Chaise and it was upon this Account that h● wrote to him, with all the Earnestness that might be, to leave Paris, and giv● his Attendance upon him.  
So soon as he arrived, he told hi● whole Story immediately, and extolling the Beauty of his Mistress which he ha● designed him, made his Teeth water Never trouble yourself, (said La Chaise) she must be a Rebel-indeed, if we ca● reduce her to Obedience— We ha●● brought several others to Reason— and let me tell ye, without Vanity, our Departure from Paris has occasioned ●he shedding of some Tears. The next Morning he went to the Barbers, washed his Hands with Past of Almonds, combed and powdered his Locks, put on clean Linen, and in short, made himself very spruce and neat, resolving to bestir the Balls of his Eyes, and his Tongue, if he could do no more. 'Tis true, he found ●he young Lady a little Coy at first; but ●hat was no wonder: for Maids do not ●hrow themselves into their Lover's Arms at first dash; there must be some Ceremonies and Formalities observed: nor would La Chaise be easily repulsed. In short, He so managed his Business, that in Seven or Eight Days he brought her to his Bow. Presently he informed the Provincial, and his Mistress, who made Bonfires For his prosperous Success. In truth, Sir, said the Lady to him, y'are a wonderful Gentleman— How!— besiege and take a Coy Mistress upon Composition in so short a time! You may well be said to come, see, and vanquish without a Hyperbole. What is impossible Madam, (replied La Chaise,) when it is to do you Service: All things become easy from the very Moment that you are concerned; and I am persuaded 〈◊〉 own my good Fortune to your good Wishes in my behalf. Oh Sir, (cried the Lady) you are so great a Courtier▪ that I no longer wonder how you came to speed so well: A little thing would persuade me to hear ye talk to me too▪ But Father, I'm afraid that Constancy is none of your Virtues. As for my Constancy, Madam, (replied the Father) it lies in your Power to fix it; 〈◊〉 will not set it any other Bounds the●● what your Orders prescribe. Very good (cried the Lady) I take ye at your word we shall see whether you are a Man 〈◊〉 your Promise. Morbleu, (cried the Provincial, finding his Mistress ru●● Riot,) this is a great piece of Impudence indeed, thus to make a Bargain before my Face. But (said he to the Lady) 〈◊〉 you had a mind to betray me, and to admit of his perfidious Offers, methinks you might have stayed till I had been dead. And as for you, Mr. Under-Priest● that pretend here to mow the Grass under my Feet, I shall find a way to teach you better manners, assure yourself. Upon this, the Lady who resented the offensive Language of the Provincial, rising up ●n great Fury, You sputter out your Threats (said she) very lavishly methinks, if any body cared for 'em: And ●o saying, away she flew out of the Chamber. Father La Chaise, unwilling ●he Quarrel should grow too high, run ●fter her to stop her— Whither so fast, Madam, (said he)— ●s it fit that such a Trifle as this should but ye thus out of Humour? Stay, Madam, I beseech ye. In the mean ●ime, the Provincial, who was then in 〈◊〉 manner Horn-mad, took this Action ●or a greater Affront than the first. 'Tis true, (said he) that I do ill to interrupt your Sport; I know a Third Person cannot choose but be very troublesome to your Amours, and therefore I'll quit the Room; and so saying, away ●e fling. Upon that, Father La Chaise ●eft the Lady, and ran after the Provincial, thinking to hold him by the Cloak. At which the Provincial turning about, ●n a foaming Rage, and lifting up his Fist, Mor— (said he) let me go, or I'll dash out thy Teeth.— The Father seeing him in that Passion, and finding no Persuasions would wo● upon him, but that he would have do● as he said, left him, and returned to ●cifie the Lady, who was no less ince●● He's a Madman, fit for Bedlam, the● a Lady's Chamber, (said she) This the Tenth Trick he has played me up● the same Account: I hate a jealous L●ver: but he has done me a Kindness 〈◊〉 make me weary of his Company, and hope I shall never be troubled with hi● more. The Father gave her to ●●derstand, That such Capriccios as the● proceeded from the Excess of his Lo●● that too much Equality, and Tranqui●● of Humour was no good Sign in a ●●ver, and provided his Jealousy did 〈◊〉 continue, that it was always excusab●● However, these Reasons wrought not 〈◊〉 effectually at first, as he could have desired: but at last, being of a Compassionate Nature, she yielded to his importunate Entreaties, and promised hi● That she would not cast any so●● Looks upon the Provincial if he ●●turn'd.  
After this, the Father went to 〈◊〉 new Mistress' Chamber; who, dur●●● this Skirmish, had been i'the City. 〈◊〉 told her of the Quarrel that happened between her Mother-in-Law and Father De Vaux, in regard he could not ●void her being informed of it by the servants of the House; but he did not acquaint her with the real Occasion. ●n the Evening he returned to the Con●ent, and retired to his Chamber, without so much as speaking to the Provincial, whom he thought it convenient to ●et alone all that Night, that he might ●ave leisure to reflect upon his Rashness. The next Morning he went to ●ee him, and found him more Discreet ●●en the Day before. He made him ashamed of his Folly, and in lively Co●ours laid before him the Misfortunes to which his Transports might have exposed ●im, had the Husband been at home, or ●hat he that spoke had not had more Moderation. He told him further, That ●he Lady was very much offended at his Proceeding, and that he had taken a world of Pains to appease her; That she ●oudly complained of his Fantastical Humours and his Capriccios, and that 〈◊〉 was the only way to lose the good ●ortune he had met with. The Provincial agreed to all this, and testified his Sorrow for being in such a Passion He informed himself also with great diligence of what the Lady had said 〈◊〉 done, even to the slightest Circumstance● and whether any body that belongs to the House had taken notice of the Falling-out. The Father answered, Th●● a good part of the Servants had hea● it, but that they did not in the le●● suspect the Reason of it; and that 〈◊〉 had taken care to turn the Business qui●● another way, when the Precedent Daughter asked him what the Matt●● was: which did not a little calm th● uproars of his unquiet Mind. Some fe● days after he saw her again, and begged he Pardon in such submissive and Passiona●● Terms, that she could not choose but observe that his Irregularities had proceeded on● from too much Love. On the oth●● side, she gave him some tender Rep●●mands, that only served to inflame hi● the more, and to render their Reconciliation more firm. As for Fath●● La Chaise, he was got into his Mistres● Chamber, who you may be sure did n●● waste her time in threading of Pear● This Gipsy did so dote upon the Father, that she could not live out of h●● sight. By which you may guests whether or no she refused his Proposal to come and spend the Nights in her Bed. The Bargain was soon made, the Virgin pretending a great Pain in her Head, that she might lie no more with her Mother-in-Law; and desiring her withal not to speak a word of it to her Father. Which the Lady agreed to, yet giving her to understand that she was to take ●t for a great Favour. Upon these bles●ed Tidings the Provincial's Joy redoubled. He embraced Father La Chaise a hundred times, and could not forbear Thanking him for a Kindness from which he reaped as much Benefit as himself.  
The main Business now, was, to find a way to be admitted into the House in the Night, and where to remain concealed all the Day till the next Evening. There was no likelihood of having the Doors opened ●o 'em; nor was it safe to get in at the Windows; so much the less, because they looked into the Street. At length, the best Expedient they could find, was ●o hire the next House to the President's, where no body lived, and where the Gut●ers of both Houses falling one into the other, they might get into the Garret of their Elysium, and so descend into the Apartments of their Earthly Felicity. Th●● being concluded, was brought to p●●● the next Day; and the same Night, between Twelve and One a Clock, bo●● the Reverendissimo's stole out of the Convent through a false Door of which th● Provincial had the Key, and happy met at their appointed Rendevou● where they were received with op●● Arms.  
These Nocturnal Visits were to the● as so many Charms, which they continued three or four times a Week, for 〈◊〉 space of a Year, without any Trou●● or Disgrace. But at last there came 〈◊〉 fatal Night that paid for all the r●● And then it was, that our two Amoner Fathers, according to their usual wo● were no sooner got fast locked in 〈◊〉 Embraces of their Adorable Mistress' when Father De Vaux heard some bo●● come and knock very imperiously the Door. Seeing himself therefore such apparent Danger, his Blood ●●geal'd in his Veins for fear, and there 〈◊〉 ne'er a Saint in Paradise, though 〈◊〉 Credit were never so little, to whom 〈◊〉 did not promise a Wax-Candle. A●● indeed, he had great reason to Tremble; for it was the Precedent, a Man no less ●●vere than Minos himself, and who had ●een upbraided never for having given any ●ther Sentence but that of Death upon ●he most Petty Criminal that ever appeared before him. I leave the Reader ●o judge what Resolutions the Jesuit had ●o take, more-especially in a Business ●hat so nearly concerned his Life and his ●onour. But the Tempest did not fall ●pon him; so that for this time he was ●nly punished with a most dreadful Fright. ●or the Precedent, who only came upon ●●formation given him, That his Daughter did not lie with his Wife; hearing ●o Body answer, believed his Informers ●ere deceived, and that in all likelihood ●●ey had only shifted their Chamber. ●ith these Surmizes he forbore to knock 〈◊〉 call any more, and proceeded on to urry Terror and Alarm to his Daughter's Apartment. In the mean time, ●ather De Vaux, taking his Advantage of ●●at Moment of the President's Absence, ●ap'd out of the Bed, took his  in ●s Hand, and made his Escape the same ●ay he came, abandoning the unfortunate Father Lafoy Chaise to his Evil Destiny. The old Precedent was more obstina●● at that Door than the other; and seei●● they would not let him in, threaten to break open the Door. The poor supposed Virgin was so astonished with Fe● that she knew not where she was, 〈◊〉 what Resolution to take. If she open the Door, she visibly exposed herself 〈◊〉 Ruin; and if she did not open it, 〈◊〉 was in as bad or worse Condition. T● Father was no less at his Wit's end; 〈◊〉 without any Hesitation, he took a Re●●lution to leap out at the Window. 〈◊〉 that purpose, he put on his  w● all the speed he could, being loath 〈◊〉 leave any thing behind him that mi● give Evidence against him, or his dea● Beloved. After that, he fastened one the Sheets to the Window, thinking have slid down like an Angel in a Thea● But as the Proverb says, Haste ma● Waste; and his Precipitation proved fa● to him: for his Gown hitching in 〈◊〉 pointed Barrs of the Windows be● he was forced to hang there with 〈◊〉 being able to disengage himself: h●● ever, he made some vain Efforts, t● did but hasten his Misfortune; for 〈◊〉 Servants that lay in the Hall hearing 〈◊〉 Noise and Bustle at the Window, and the Hurly-burly above Stairs, thought the House had been Broke-open; and getting out of their Beds, cried, Thiefs! Thiefs! as loud as they could yaul.  
In the mean time the Precedent having broken-open the Door, and finding his Daughter like one in a Trance, and the Sheet tied to the Window, thought as the rest did, that there had been Thiefs i' the House, and fell to crying-out, Thiefs! Thiefs! himself. Upon this the Neighbours got together, and searching about , at length they perceived his unfortunate Reverence, who certainly was now in the midst of one of the most saddest Quarters of an Hour that ever befell him in this Life. At first they could hardly distinguish who he was; but at length the Lackeys and Footmen, after they had bestowed a thousand Thumps, and Cuffs, and Whirrits upon him, brought him to their Master in the most miserable Condition i' the world; which did not hinder 'em however, but that they knew him again to be the same Person who had so often frequented the House. Thereupon the Precedent rightly judged, that such a Thief as he came not to rob him of his Money, and found too late that it woul● have been more Prudence to have 〈◊〉 him have escaped with the Theft, the● to make the thing so public. But seein● there was no Remedy, he ordered t●● Father to be kept in a Chamber, wi● a Design to have sent him to Goal t●● next Morning, in order to a due Pro●●cution. Which without doubt wou●● have been done effectually, had 〈◊〉 the Provincial, who seemed not to ha● the least share in the Adventure, ra● betimes in the Morning to beg, wi● Tears in his Eyes, that his Member 〈◊〉 the Order might be restored him. Wh●● I desire of you (said he to the Precedent is not only for the Glory of our Goo● God, in whose sight you will do an A●● both Acceptable and Meritorious, b●● greatly to your own Honour. I desire 〈◊〉 for your Own sake, for your Daughter sake, for your Wife's sake, and for th● sake of all your Relations, whom you a● going to defame in the World. Th● President's Wife, who after her Galla●● was got safe out of harms way, wa● come out of her Chamber to know wha● was the matter, joined her Entreaties an● Prayers with those of her Uncle, and gave him to understand, that since the shortest Follies were always the best, would not be his wisest course to prosecute the Offender: besides that, the ●eat of his Anger would be over in two Days. Upon which the Precedent, who was by this time very much come to himself, and began to be of the same mind with his Wife and the Provincial, let go his Prisoner, after he had called him all the Rogues and Rascals in nature, and threatened him with what strange things ●e would do him. Presently the Provincial sent for a Chair, and had him privately carried to the College, more ●ke a Dead then a Living Creature; ●here, God knows how he was received. All the Jesuits, upon whom the Affront ●f the Scandal fell, and who for that Reason durst not show their Faces, gave ●im a world of corpse Language, and ●eated him like the worst of Men, accounting it as a great Happiness if they ●ould so discharge themselves. But the incensed Fathers declared to the Provincial, That they would have Justice done ●pon that infamous Fellow, to the end ●e might be an Example to Others. Father De Vaux, as you may well believe, had no Maw to grant their Desires, but the thing was so foul, that he durst not openly oppose their Demands. He was therefore constrained to give way to the crowd of those that cried out for Justice, so that he was forced to call a Chapter, to consider what Punishment should be inflicted upon him. The poor Criminal was called to receive his Sentence, and after he had been formerly interrogated upon the Circumstances o● Matter of Fact, and that his Answers had been duly weighed, the Rector, after he had desired the Benediction of his Superior, began a long Speech wherein he set forth at large, The Obligation that lay upon all Men i● general to live well, and to comfort themselves in all things to God, an● the Church, but more-especially they who were in Holy Orders who had renounced the World, an● the Vanities thereof, to devote themselves to God after a more particular manner; and who were engaged to a Devout Life by such Authentics Vows, so frequently reiterated 〈◊〉 Therefore that they were to take into their Consideration, all these bold Invaders of divine Institution, and to look upon 'em as Perjured, and Sacrilegious Villains, deserving the severest of Punishments, who ought to have no Mercy showed 'em. To these Considerations, he added, That of an Illustrious, and Godly Society, without Relaxation toiling for the Destruction of Heresy, and the Conversion of Sinners, which they endeavoured to procure by continual Prayers, and Sacrifices, and the Labour, and Sweat of their Brows. Afterwards he set forth the great Sorrow of their Holy Mother, who saw herself dishonoured by perfidious Children, that exposed her to the Scorn and Contempt, not only of particular Kingdoms, but of the whole World, who was always duly informed of their Excesses which were still thrown upon her. Is it Just then, (continued he) That Millions of Religious Saints, and Purified Souls, should bear the disgraceful Marks which these miserable Wretches would imprint upon 'em? And shall it ever be said, That in the Holy Society of Jesus, that Men may may be  scandalous Adulterers, and Whoremongers? Most Reverend Fathers, I know your Zeal, and how piously Jealous you are of the Glory, and Honour of your Order; I see it in your Eyes, and in your Countenances. Courage then, Fathers, let us cut off from among Us this corrupt and rotten Member; and let us make appear, by such a pious Resolution, our Detestation of his Impious Course of Life.  
There needed not such a far fetched Harangue to animate People already sufficiently incensed. So that after they had ordered the unfortunate Father to retire, they proceeded to give their Opinions, while poor La Chaise withdrew, casting a doleful Look upon Father De Vaux, as much as to say, That all his Hopes were in him.  
Their Opinions were various, tho' all equally terrible: Some were for having him ignominiously expelled out of the Order; and that he should moreover be degraded; and some, that he should be mewed up all the remainder of his Days between Four Walls, in Pane Doloris, & aqua Angustiae. But the Provincial, who presided in the Assembly, and whose Right it was to pronounce the Definitive Sentence, made use of this variety of Sentiments, to help his Friend out of the Mire, and therefore addressing himself in his turn to the Society, he told 'em, That he could not blame the pious Zeal of the whole Society; nevertheless, that he was obliged to put 'em in mind, That when there was an incumbent Necessity to condemn any Person, they could not act with too much Moderation, because it many times fell out, That our proper Passions disguising themselves under the plausible Appearance of Zeal for God, transported us to utmost Severity against our Brother, who, by that means, became a Victim: but that then, not considering what we did, we sacrificed to the Devil, travestyed into an Angel of Light; which cautious, and evil Spirit, not caring how he brought Men to Perdition, provided they were destroyed, had made too great a use of this same fatal Means to Damn an infinite number of Souls, which but for that, would be in a happy Condition. That it behoved us to have this Fear before our Eyes, and after the Example of all the most eminent Saints, always to lean toward Charity, which was the Soul of all Virtues, without which, they are no more than a dreadful Chaos, according to the Doctrine of St. Paul: To whatever Extremity we incline on this side, we can never Sin, whereas, on the other side, we cannot be too cautious, as the same Apostle shows us. That he did not take upon him to palliate, or lessen the Crime committed by the guilty Person, which to say the Truth was very Enormous, but that Christ himself had taught us, That there was Mercy to be showed upon all Sins, more especially when it was merited by Repentance; and that after all, altho' this poor Father had had the Misfortune to be vanquished by Temptation, and an opportunity at hand, the effect of humane Frailty, yet for all that, he might come to be a worthy Man, and a great Saint: That St. Peter fell into a Crime much more heinous than His; nevertheless, we do not find in Scripture, that ever the rest of the Apostles called him to an Account for it: He only wept, and they believed his Tears sincere; he protested his Repentance, and their Charity would not permit 'em for a Moment to doubt the Truth of his Words. Wherefore then Brethren, should you now be of an Opinion so opposite to theirs? Why should you estrange yourselves so far from the Example which they set before you? or, Do you require a greater? Read then what our Saviour said to Judas, though he knew him to be a Traitor, and impious Person, and worthy of Death. He was so far from severe Usage, or Excluding him from the Holy Society, or forbidding the Disciples from Communicating with him, that he admitted him to his Table without Distinction. As for my part, Brethren, (pursued he) that which I have here to say, as already I have given you to understand, is not in order to take part with Vice. The whole Society, and all the Order in general, will bear witness for me, that I have never given any occasion of Scandal to any Person; I am neither Ravisher, nor Unjust, nor Whoremonger, nor Adulterer, nor Covetous, as many among our Religious Orders are; I Fast twice a Week, I observe with a particular Regularity my Vows, and the Constitutions of my Order, and as an Accumulation to all the rest, I am ready to give all that the Vow of Poverty leaves me, to the Glory of God. As for you▪ my Brethren be not offended, if 〈◊〉  to the Consciences of every one of ye, the past Conduct of his Life. How many are there in this illustrious Order of Jesus, as also in this particular Society, who have not slipped into Crimes more dangerous than this which is now laid to the Charge o● our poor Brother, and perhaps, wh● never so truly repent of 'em as he does? And I may be bold to add thi● farther, How many are there who are actually engaged in infamous Correspondencies, and which, perhaps, are within an Inch of being brought i● Evidence against themselves. Wha● shall we then say against such Persons as those, who pretend to be so ridgidly Austere, and Interested for the Cause of God. God preserve my Brethren from such Accidents as these; but who knows how soon he may fall into Temptation. I declare therefore, that I shall never consent to the inflicting of any other Punishment upon our Brother, then to stand Barefoot, and Bareheaded before the Crucifix, confess his Fault, beg Pardon of the Party, and then be sent into another Province. 'Tis your Business now to debate the Cause, and give your Opinions over again; but before you go about it, permit me to say to ye, what Christ said formerly upon the like occasion; Let him that is without Sin cast the first Stone.  
After so roguish a Speech, I cannot forbear crying out, O Popelings, and Hypocrites, how are poor People deluded with your Mock-shews. But as roguish as it was, it wrought the same Effect which he desired. The Process was reviewed; at what time every Man reflecting upon his own Conscience, or rather upon the Punishment to which he should be liable upon a slip of the same Nature, the Provincial's Sentence was ratified by general Consent, and Father La Chaise was acquitted for declaring before the great Crucifix upon his Knees, that he begged Pardon of God for the Sin he had committed. For as to his being sent to another place, that was so much to his Advantage, that it was not look● upon as a Punishment.  
Some few Days before, Father Barbin had been appointed Assistant-General of France, at Rome: and in regard that Father De Vaux had contributed most to his Election, he could not refuse, upon his Recommendation, to entertain Father La Chaise for his Secretary; so much the less, because his Friend assured him, That he knew no body more capable of an Employment that required so much Activity, Ability, and suppleness of Wit; and that he should find all those Qualities in him to Perfection. Thus he departed in the sight of his Enemies, to go and possess a Post, which several among 'em had in vain contended for. He governed himself very well; and in regard the late Misfortune which had befallen him, had rendered him more Circumspect, he never exposed himself for the future to the like disgraces.  
Not but that he would be still carrying on some Intrigues, because his amorous Complexion would never permit him to lie Idle; but he had learned to manage 'em so well, that they never came to make any Noise. Among the rest, there was one particularly to be taken notice of with Donna Margareta del Caniglio, 
1657:  the Cardinal Padron's near Kinswoman, who failed but very narrowly of procuring him a Bishop's Crosier, had not the Holy Father, out of a peculiar Discontent, refused it but a little before to the Cardinal, who begged it for Father Davila, at that time Assistant-General of Spain. Which ruin'd all Father La Chaise's Hopes, and disappointed all the Canvassing that were made use of in his behalf. But for all this, he was well esteemed in the Court of Rome; and Alexander VII. then Pope, lent him a willing Ear, and employed him in several Negotiations, wherein he acquitted himself with good Success. And well it was for the Bishop of Bayeux, that the Father was so much in the Pope's Favour, for otherwise he might have had but an ill time of it.  
This Prelate was one of those whom nothing will serve but to be Petty Sovereigns in Spirituals, and who refuse to acknowledge the Holy See, but only add Honours. He had already played several Pranks of a Petty Lord and Master, by permitting People in his Diocese to work on holidays, only some few excepted; by granting Indulgences, and giving Dispensations beyond the Limits of his Privileges, which had very much incensed the Pope against him. But that which was the Compliment of all the rest, and contributed to make him a perfect Rebel, was an Action that made a great Noise, no way to be endured by the Pope. There was in his Diocese a little Abbey, belonging to the Benedictines not reformed, called the Abbey of St. Clement, which depended solely upon the Pope, and which, till then, had preserved that Privilege to themselves; but he not enduring those Dependencies under his Nose, pretended to a Right of Visitation of their House, and to that purpose went to the Convent. The Monks refused to admit him; However, having opened their Door out of Civility, and that they might not provoke him to be their Enemy, showed him their Grants, and their Patents for the Possession of that Immunity; of which the Bishop not only took the least notice, but taking the Benefit of the Entrance that had been given him, made a verbal Report upon the Spot. Upon which, the Monks finding him to be in Earnest, stood upon their Terms, and sent away both their Complaints, and their Privileges to Rome; whereupon the Pope granted 'em a Bull, prohibiting the Bishop, under pain of Apostolic Censures not to impose any Innovations upon 'em. The Fathers, so soon as they had received this Bull, caused it to be fixed up upon the Doors of the Cathedral, which so provoked the Bishop, that as he went out from High Mass he pulled it down, and tore it in pieces with his own Hands; and within a few Days after, in despite of the Monks, he made his Visitation in the Convent, after he had caused the Doors to be broke open. Such an Act of Violence so incensed the Holy Father against him, that he threatened him with nothing less than Excommunication; and than it was, that Father La Chaise, who became the Bishop's Friend while he resided in Paris, was employed to atone the Pope; but it cost him a great deal of trouble to bring it to pass; and a small Accident happened at the same time, which had like to have let fly the Thunder, that grumbled so terribly. For the Monks sent to Rome an Ordinance of that Bishop, at the top of which the Bishop styled himself Bishop Miseratione Dei, without making any mention of the Holy-See. The Pope saw it, and foaming with Anger, Echo (said He) Un Ridiculoso Barone, con il suo Miseratione di dio; voglio bene che Sappia, che non e Vescovo che per la mia; e che quando vorrò non serà piu niente: Look here, (said he) a ridiculous Scoundrel of a Bishop with his M●●●●atione Dei; I'll have him to know 〈◊〉 no Bishop, but by my Mercy, and when I please I'll make him nothing at all. 'Twas well this fiery Pope lived at that time; for had he lived till now; he must have been forced to have swallowed many a Miseratione Dei; the Bishops at this Day not using any other Addition.  
Now, in regard this Bishop was one of Mazarine's Creatures, his Eminency wrote to Rinaldo d' Este, Protector of the Affairs of France, and enjoined him to wait upon his Holiness about this Affair. And indeed, he made a great number of Jaunts to and fro, without making any Progress: for the Pope, who had already thundered out a Bull of Excommunication against him, would not yield a hair's breadth, unless the Bishop came himself in Person to acknowledge his Fault, and beg his Mercy. Thus the Affair was spun out for above a Twelvemonth, and in all likelihood would have lasted a great while longer, had not La Chaise found out an Expedient, that the Excommunicated Bishop should make an Acknowledgement at Paris, before the Nuncio, and write to his Holiness a submissive and respectful Letter; wherein he was to beg Pardon for his Disobedience, and set forth his Repentance in most significant Expressions. After which, his Holiness should take off the Excommunication; which was to be read in the Body of the High-Mass in the Cathedral Church of Bayeux.  
Father La Chaise did a considerable piece of Service also for his own Order, which did not a little contribute to advance his Reputation. There arrived at Rome, toward the end of the Pontificate of Innocent X. an ancient Jesuit of a Venerable Presence, who wore Long Hair, with his Locks flowing over his Shoulders, and a Beard down to his Belly. This Jesuit took upon him the Title of Ambassador from the King of China to his Holiness, whom he came to assure of the barbarous Monarch's Respect and Filial Obedience to the Holy See, and to desire a new Supply of Missionaries to labour the Conversion of a numerous People who waited for the Succour of his Charity. The only Son of that King was also come in Person to kiss his Holiness' Feet, and render the Embassy the more Authentic. The Pope was overjoyed beyond Imagination to hear of such a happy Progress of Religion in those far distant Regions: and not being able to testify his Satisfaction to the Prince of China, whose Zeal had engaged him to cross so many vast and dangerous Seas, he lodged him magnificently, and gave Order, That both He and the Ambassador of the King his Father, should be entertained at his Expense, during their stay in Rome; and moreover, he paid him all the Honours that are usually paid to the Sons of Sovereign Princes.  
But the Dominicans, who are no Friends to Jesuits, and less in the Countries where Missionaries are employed, then otherwhere, utterly destroyed all this fine Story. They wrote to the Pope, That understanding the Jesuits had counterfeited an Embassy from the King of China, and had also Personated the Son of that Monarch, which was a pernicious Imposture, They could not forbear to give his Holiness Advice of it, for fear he should fall into the Snare, that only tended to advance the Jesuits Reputation, and to procure him to part with considerable Sums of Money for the Support of the Mission; whereas the King of China, who was then at War with the Tartars, had no thoughts of turning Catholic, much ●ess of sending his only Son to the other end of the World, to make a fond Submission to his Holiness. To this they added heavy Accusations of the Jesuits, for having so far disfigured Christianism in the Indies, that it was hardly to be known: That they never preached the Crucifying of Christ, nor his Poverty; but that out of a Rascally Compliant with the Genius of the People, they always represented him a Glorious an● Triumphant King. And that they ha● kept the People under these Notions an● Elements of the Christian Religion, ev● since Matthew Ricci, the first of the Missionaries, went thither; that is 〈◊〉 say, for near a hundred Years ago: Th●● they permitted their Proselytes, for th● Preservation of their Estates, to comm● Idolatry, and kneel before the Idol 〈◊〉 Chimboam; and that they were so sa● from forbidding 'em to swear by the●● False Gods, that they did it themselves by giving the Name of Wing, which signifies Holy, to Kun-su-zu, making use 〈◊〉 the same Title which they give to Go● To all these Accusations they added other also no less heinous, and which are to long to be here inserted. I shall only sa● this, That they were so many, and 〈◊〉 rank, that they redounded greatly to th● Disgrace of the whole Body of the Jesuits And if the Holy Father were so much overjoyed upon the Arrival of the Ambassador his Displeasure was much greater to 〈◊〉 such a Cheat put upon him. He refused to admit the General of the Order, wh●● came to speak to his Holiness concerning this Affair; and caused him to be cited, together with the Assistant of France, to come and Answer the Matter charged upon the Society, before the Congregation of Foreign Missions which he caused to be assembled on purpose, and every body expected to see some great Alterations in that Order. He caused the supposed Ambassador to be Arrested, and expelled all the Jesuits out of the Vatican. Neither was Father Lafoy Chaise at that time exempted. You might have seen the Jesuits then running from one end of Rome to the other, to beg the Protection of the Cardinals and Ambassadors, and that they would help 'em out of the Misfortune which so terribly threatened 'em. However, they escaped much better than People thought they would have done, by the Mediation of the Cardinal Padron, who was the only Person that durst solicit for 'em; the Pope having forbid all Persons whatever to speak to him in their Behalf, being resolved to take cognizance of this Affair in the Congregation, and to show 'em no Favour. And therefore it was that the Cardinal, though he possessed entirely the Confidence and Affection of his Holiness, yet boggled a long tim● afraid to lose, all at once, the Enjoyment of such a Benefit by one dangerous fa● Step. But at length, o'ercome by th● Solicitations of La Signora del Caniglio, an● by the importunate Prayers and Tears 〈◊〉 Father La Chaise, who threw himself a his Feet, embracing his Knees, he promised to do his utmost, and performed 〈◊〉 so successfully, that he appeased the Popefiery Indignation, who consented to he● in private the Reasons which La Cha● could offer to him, by no means being 〈◊〉 yet to be entreated to admit any other To this purpose he was introduced i● his Holiness' Cabinet, who talked to hi● with an extraordinary Heat of Passion concerning the wicked Morals of his O●der, the horrible Abuses which they committed in the Indies, where they prof●●ted Religion, and all Things Sacred: ●ding to this, That their Impudence 〈◊〉 not ashamed to act their Farces at R● by introducing Fantomes of a Prince a● Ambassador, without respect to the H● See, nor the Holy Church, which th● exposed to Laughter, and the Contemn of the Heretics. What can you say to this: (said the Pope) Nothing, ma● Holy Father (replied La Chaise, all bathed in Tears, and prostrating himself upon the Ground) I must confess, that all these Irregularities are inexcusable, and therefore I do not go about to lessen 'em before your Holiness, who would always penetrate to the bottom of my Heart, and from whom it lies not in my Power to conceal my own Thoughts. I have nothing to say, but only to implore your Paternal Clemency toward an Order, that beg it upon their Knees, and which absolutely condemns, and disapproves the Conduct of their Missionaries in China. They have heard of it, most Holy Father, with that Sorrow which is not to be equalled out by that of your Holiness, and tho' they should justify themselves upon the Purity of their Intentions, which were never other then to win some Souls to Jesus Christ, and should cite in favour of themselves the Example of St. Paul, who was a Jew to the Jews, a Greek to the Greeks, yet we should never be persuaded to defend 'em, but would abandon 'em, without speaking so much as one word to atone the just Severity of your Holiness, if the Interest of the Church, Religion, and the Holy See, did not oblige us to speak. May your Holiness b● pleased to consider, that in punishing these Malefactors with that Rigour which they deserve, you will make public to a● the World, what is now only known 〈◊〉 a few, and declare that to be a certain Truth, of which as yet the World is n● convinced by certain Proof. Judge, mo● Holy Father, what a general Scanned such a Certainty would cause; and wha● a hindrance it would be to the Propagation of the Faith. The Heretics wo● laugh us to Scorn, as your Holiness ha● well observed, and take an occasion 〈◊〉 Insult over our Mother, the Holy Church upon all occasions.  
He continued howling a long time, pe●cieving that the Pope lent him a favourable Ear, with that apparent Submission of Piety and Tenderness, that the Po● suffered himself to be mollified, and to● him in raising him up, (for he had spoken all this while upon his Knees,) 'Twas ill luck, my Son, that thou wert a Jesuit then returning to the Cardinal, who● he took to the Window, I love this Ma● (said he) because there is no Guile 〈◊〉 him. This Courteous Answer put La Ch●i● in great Hopes, who laying hold up●● the Conjuncture, struck while the Iron was hot. He never stirred from the Cardinal's House, and pressed him so hard, that at length he obtained an absolute Pardon, got the Ambassador released, who was only sent to the House of the Profession, like another Jesuit, without doing him any other Harm. The Prince was also set at Liberty, who betook himself to serve a Dutch Lord as his Lackey. This happy Success, for which the Order was solely beholding to his Dexterity, considerably signalised him; so that from that time forward, he was employed in more secret, and more important Negotiations, which made him known in several Courts, and more particularly in that of France; this very Father having proved very Serviceable to persuade the Pope to what the King desired of him, in order to the Satisfaction which he demanded for the Assault which the Corsi made upon his Ambassador the Duke of Crequi. So that after the Death of the Assistant General Barbin, he resolved to return into France, in hopes to meet with Advancement sooner there then otherwhere.  
At his return, the Bishop of Bayeux carried him to Cardinal Mazarine, who showed him a thousand Kindnesses, and told him, he would be his Friend. And indeed, he was very much in his Favour. He it was that presented him to the King, 
1665.  as a Person whose Ability he understood to the very bottom. He also go● him admitted, in his life-time, into the Council of Conscience, which indeed was no more than to make him Co-adjutor to the Confessor. Nor did the Father in any thing belie the Testimony which his Eminency had given of him He governed himself in this Post with all the Dexterity of a Man grown old in Business; and understood so well to study the King's Humour and Genius, that when the Cardinal died, he found himself able to stand upon his own Legs Nay, more than that, he supplanted his Competitor, who though he had been longer in the World, had nothing near the Wit or Knowledge that La Chaise had.  
By this time the King was become enamoured of La Valliere; and in regard his Passion was strong and violent, he but a hundred Slights upon the Queen for her sake; which many times came to hard Words, though that Princess had a great Love for him, at least, as much as his Mistress; nor was she much inferior ●o her in the Allurements of Beauty. But I found the King was of the Humour of those that never love their Wives, because they are tied to 'em. His Confessor was always harping upon this String, and would not let him be at ●est; which was a great Vexation to him, the King enduring no Lectures upon any Subject whatever. Father La Chaise, who knew this pretty well, took the quite contrary course; he carefully avoided all manner of Disputes upon this Subject; ●nd if at any time he were obliged to speak his Thoughts, he never failed to bring in Humane Frailty to excuse the King. Lafoy Valliere, who had notice of ●t, ordered Thanks to be returned him by Monsieur de Montausier, who desired him in her Name to give her a Visit. But Lafoy Chaise excused himself, as being loath to incur the Queen's Displeasure. After that, she would needs have him for her Confessor; and the same Person gave him notice of her Intentions. This put our Reverendissimo to a little stand; for hi● Ambition soared higher: nevertheless, h●● durst not refuse her, for fear of incensing her. He therefore returned fo● Answer, That the Duchess of Vauj●● did him a great deal of Honour; an● that he looked upon it as a special Favour of Christ himself, that offered him Occasions to serve her, and to be any way contributing to the saving of her Soul but in regard he had no desire that the thing should spread any further, he went to attend her that Night. So soon as s●● perceived him, What, good Father (sai● she) brought you hither? You do me a Favour that I could never expect at you● Hands. What will Their Majesties say when they hear that you bestowed a Vis●● upon a poor Girl whose Soul they woul● never value the Loss of. I come, Madam (answered he) to repeat those Protestations which I made to the Marquis o● Montausier, when he did me the Honour to speak to me in your Name. He told me, Madam, that you had so good a● Opinion of me, as to entrust me with th● Direction and Guidance of your Soul Yes, Reverend Father (replied La Valliere) and I should be highly engaged to ye, if you would take Charge of it▪ 'Tis too great a Favour, Madam, that you vouchsafe me (answered the Father) But, Madam, permit me to speak to ye with all the freedom of a sincere Heart. I have an infinite Value for the Good and spiritual Repose of your Soul, and should be glad to assist ye with that little Knowledge which the Lord has been pleased to impart to me. However, Madam, 'tis true, that my Zeal for your Service does not permit me to stop there; I would, if it were possible, contribute something to the Establishment of a Fortune and a Favour which you so duly merit. I dare be bold to say, Madam, That hitherto I have laboured out of a pure Inclination, without pretending to deserve any thing ●t your hands; but as yet it has not been in my Power to do any thing considerable. But if you will consent that I may cast my Designs, and watch Occasions to do you Service, than you may reckon upon me as a Person wholly at your Devotion. You may perhaps wonder, Madam, that a Man of my Profession should ●alk to ye after this rate; those of my Robe being accustomed to preach Mortification and Penitence; and I must needs confess, that this would be the best way when all's done. But when fatal Experience teaches us, That Youth, Great Engagements in the World, Beauty, Extraordinary Merit, and Birth, are things absolutely incompatible with an entire Self-denial, I cannot but agree with those that believe there are some Grains to be allowed to Humane Frailty; and since the King cannot bridle his Amorous Passion, I cannot choose but applaud the Choice that he has made. I do not see any Lady in the Court, that merits his Heart and Esteem so much as yo● do; and as for your part, Madam, I shall never condemn ye, for having harkened to the Vows of the Greatest Monarch in the World. Nor do I believe that any Lady in the Kingdom would have refused 'em. Your Affection for him has had an extraordinary good Effect. For it has drawn him off from his Engagements begun with Madam his Sister-in-Law; which made me tremble a thousand times, out of that Zeal which I have for his Honour and Salvation. So that it may be said, That your Charms have rescued his Royal Soul from a greater Danger, into which it was falling.— Lafoy Valliere, who desired no more, then that he would prove by substantial Reasons, that she might Love the King with a safe Conscience, listened very attentively till he had made an end of speaking. After which (said she, fetching a deep Sigh) How happy should I be, if the Father-Confessor were but in some measure of your Opinion. But he continually torments the King upon this Occasion; and moreover, incenses the Queen against me, and urges her to persecute me with all the Vexations imaginable. There's more Truth in that then you can well believe (replied La Chaise) for I have left the Queen's Chamber twenty times, not being able to hear how bitterly she inveighs against you, Madam, who, without Contradiction, are the Person in the World who most naturally deserves her Kindness and Respect. In a word, What shall I say to ye, Madam, but that that same Old Fool has got a certain Notion of Morality in his Brain, which he takes to be pure Devotion, and imagines there is no Salvation without Hypocrisy and Dissimulation. You have hit his true Character (answered La Valliere) and therefore it is that the King gins to disgust him, and only retains him out of mere Respect: but I intent to speak to the King concerning him this Evening; and if he believes what I say, we shall shift him off to say his Prayers by himself. After that, Reverend Father, you shall have a good share in the next Nomination, or else say I can do nothing. I would as willingly have you the King's Confessor as my own, and therefore rely upon my Word. The Father returned her a thousand Thanks, and assured her that she should never have any cause to repent of her procuring him that Advantage. After which, in regard it was late, and for that she expected the King, he took his leave of her, and retired with Thoughts full freighted with the Ideas of his future Grandeur.  
He slept not all that Night, and perhaps but little the Night's following. For he is a Man whom Ambition suffers the least to take his Rest of any Man that I know, as one that is always indefatigable in the pursuit of his Ends. There is not any Conjuncture which he does not understand how to make use of to a Wonder. Of which his Visit to La Valliere is a palpable Demonstration. 'Twas a thing that required great Judgement, and a quick Resolution: for had he absolutely refused what she demanded of him, and not thrown himself wholly upon her proffered Kindness, 'tis evident she would have proved his irreconcilable Enemy, and would have utterly excluded him from the King's Conscience: and had he accepted the Confessorship as she proffered it for herself, he had shut the Door against the Preferment he aimed at; there being no likelihood that the King would have chosen his Mistress' Confessor for his own. Therefore he could not act more politicly, then to open his heart to her, and by that means win her Confidence; at least, we see that this way succeeded to his Wish. La Valliere, who would having given any thing to have had the King's Confessor her Friend, thought it no Prudence to refuse one that came to offer his Service, and from whom she might promise herself all the Advantages she could expect. And therefore this Female Favourite left nothing omitted to engage the King to dismiss his old Confessor, and in his room to make Choice of the Person whose Worth and Parts she extolled to the utmost of her Invention. This is a Man (said she) that will never sit domineering over your Conscience like a Pedagogue; and as he has a hundred times more Ability than the other, so he knows the World better: he keeps himself reserved within the Bounds of an Exemplary Regularity without troubling himself to Comme●● upon the Actions of other Men.  
This was just assailing the King upon the weak side, who was wont to say, That he hated nothing so much as Reprimands Besides all this, he had a great Esteem for Father La Chaise, and was quite weary of the other: so that finding no Reluctancy against the Person recommended, he promised La Valliere to dismiss his own Confessor upon the first opportunity. Nor was it long before he met with one as favourable as he could desire For the Old Man observing that the King one day, so soon as he came from the Communion, would hardly allow himself time to Dine▪ but posted away immediately to La Valliere, was so enraged at it, that never considering what would follow he waited till the King came to his Chamber, which was not till Four a Clock in the Morning. The King seeing him at such an unseasonable hour, with a surly Countenance, asked him, whom he looked for? The Confessor answered. That he came to denounce God's Judgements against him, just ready to fall upon his Head; and reproached him with his Manner of Living in the most thundering Language imaginable, talking of nothing but Impiety, Sacrilege, Forsaking God, and Eternal Torments; concluding his Discourse with telling him, That he was no longer able to see such Irregularities; and therefore if he resolved to continue his Debaucheries, he desired, for his part, that he might be dismissed. The King, who only waited for such a Harangue as this, told him very smoothly, but withal very coldly, That he gave him leave to retire when he pleased, and that he would take care to provide himself a Confessor. At the same time he bid him Good-night, and commanded his Valet de Chambre to draw the Curtains. The next Morning betimes, because he would not give the good Father time to repent, and get the Queen to mediate for him, which was the thing he most feared, the King sent for La Chaise, and told him before Monsieur and Madam de Guise, That his Confessor had begged leave to be dismissed; which he could not refuse him, 
1667.  because indeed he was fit for Contemplation, then to live in the Tumult and Hurry of a Court; and therefore finding no Ecclesiastic so worthy as himself, he would become his Penitent, and submit the Conduct of his Conscience to his Guidance. An Hour after, the King mighty jocund that his Game had played so well, went to La Valliere's Chamber, to tell her the News, so afraid he was lest any body else should prevent him— Oh, Par-bleau!— (said he) As for the Priest, I took him at his Word; he did his own business himself, and therefore God knows, I only took the Ball at the Rebound. La Valliere made answer, That 'twas the best way i' the world, provided the Queen did not mar all again: and this is that (added she) which I very much fear. How! (said the King) D'ye take me then to be a Man that is lead by the Nose? Never deceive thyself, my dear Girl,— 'Twas my Pleasure; I have done it, and I will stand to it. Nothing pleases me more, then to make those that are jealous of us, mad; and therefore to vex 'em worse than I have done, I intent to keep Holiday and Confess to Morrow. In a word, without any Preparation at all, he recommenced his Devotions the Day following, the whole Court admiring the Violence of his Passion, and the Excesses to which it transported him. In the mean time, the New-Confessor triumphed, and every body began to make their Addresses to him; only Monsieur the Prince refrained, who naturally abominated Hypocrites. And indeed he told him one Day in the Queen's Chamber, that strange things were to be expected from his Confessorship, who could prevail with the King to confess two Days together, that hardly went to Confession twice in a Year before. The Father returned no answer, because that was no place for him to make Retorts in; but from that time forward he hated the Prince with such a mortal Hatred, that he never ceased to work his Ruin, and render him odious to the King.  
So soon as he saw himself installed, he made it his Business to secure himself against all unlucky Backblows, which he had just Reason to fear; for he wanted no Enemies: and to bring this to pass he sought to strengthen himself by uniting Interests with those that were in Favour.  
At that time the Count of Lausun was the Man that shined in greatest Lustre at the Court. He was a Gentleman of that sort, that there are not Ten thousand such in the Kingdom, who had not above Six thousand a Year, paternal Estate. But Fortune was so favourable to him, the from so small a Pittance, he risen in a little time to the Pinnacle of Honour. He was Captain of the Guards of the Body, Collonel-General of Dragoons, and a Favourite exclusive. He has a great deal of Wit, and speaks with the greatest Grace in the World: Moreover, He is a Person of Worth, and fit for great Erterprises, which he goes through with an extraordinary Prowess. The History of Him, and Mademoiselle whom he married privately in despite of the King and several other Passages, are Testimonials of this; and if we would one Day afford the World the Memorials of his Life, they would find therein many thing rare and singular. But his chiefest Excellency lay in Courtship, wherein he gave way neither to Bassompierre, nor St. Aignan. All the Ladies of the Court loved him, and some in a very particular manner. However, La Valliere was not of that Number; and in regard she loved the King to the Height of Delicacy, and Niceness, the least Kindness which he showed to any other Person whatever was a great Vexation to her. The Love which he had for the Count of Lausun among others, made her Mad. You love him a Hundred times better than you do me said she) You hardly allow me your Company above Three or Four Hours in ● Day; whereas you cannot live a Moment without him. He never stirs from your side; he is your Shadow. Prithee my little lovely Creature, replied the King, what wouldst thou have me to do? Wouldst have me drive him out of my Company, when he comes to wait upon me. Not so (said La Valliere) I would only have ye not be always leaning upon his Shoulder; that he should not be perpetually whispering in your Ear; and that Lausun should not be the only Person that always never said, or did any thing but what was curious and brave. One Day the King having laid himself upon the Bed ●n her Chamber, and the Count discoursing to him by the Bedside, his Majesty had a mind to say something privately to him, and to that purpose pulled the Count by the Periwig to bring his Head closer to his own, that he might whisper in his Ear; but the Discourse ●asted so long, that the Count was constrained to fall all along upon the Bed by the King. Lafoy Valliere coming in that ●ick of time to show the Countess of Grancey a very curious Crystal Looking-Glass, Glass, and finding Lausun in that famili●… Posture with the King, was so terribly mad at it, that she could not forbear 〈◊〉 show it. Truly Sir (said she) you a●… wonderful bold— Who gave y●… leave to lie upon my Bed? These 〈◊〉 very strange pieces of Impertinencies and therefore, without any Compliments pray withdraw. On the otherside, the Count, instead of giving h●… any Answer, only smiled; and turning toward the King, Your Majesty (said he softly in his Ear) must needs be very much pleased to see the full Extent of her Jealousy; and so looking upon La Valli●… with an insulting Air, and something 〈◊〉 Contempt in his Face, he put her qui●… beside all Patience; so that she fell upon him like a Madwoman, pulled him 〈◊〉 the Periwig, tore his Cravat, and ga●… him several Cornubs with her Fist. The Count who never expected such a Tempest, endeavoured to get clear of it 〈◊〉 But I know not whether he would have found it so easy a thing, had not the King, and Madam De Grancey relieved him. After that, she fell a weeping, and upbraiding the King with the little Love he had for her. You take my Enemy's part, (said she) and I find too well, that I am unfortunate; who after ● have sacrificed all to your Majesty, ●m to expect no other, then to be ●he May-game of the Court. But I shall take a care to prevent that (continued ●he) and since you have betrayed me in 〈◊〉 manner so unworthy of a great Monarch, I will betake myself to a Nunnery, there to bewail, all the remainder of my Life; a Love from whence I promised myself so many sweet Satisfactions, which now, however, renders me most miserable. In a word she pressed her Grief so home, that the King was forced to give Lausun a smart Reprimand, and make him ask her Pardon; and all that was little enough too, to appease her.  
This Falling-out did not a little perplex Father La Chaise, who knew not well how to manage these Two Spirits so opposite one to the other. Chief Lafoy Valliere, who would admit of no Friends that took both sides, and to whom he was particularly bound for his Preferment; so that he could not in Policy desert her, for fear of making known his Ingratitude to the King. Thereupon, he took her part altogether; and having overruled his own Judgement to join with Leuvois, all Three united their Interests, and agreed unanimously together to 〈◊〉 move from all Offices, and management of public Affairs, all Persons that sho● be suspected in common, or whoever 〈◊〉 were, that either of 'em hated. La V●●liere required, That Madam might 〈◊〉 sacrificed to her; Louvois, and La Ch● resolved the ruin of the Prince; 〈◊〉 all Three joined together against Lau●●● whose Favour was an Eyesore both 〈◊〉 the one, and the other; and for 〈◊〉 more security of the Triumvirate, the● resolved to keep it Secret with all the 〈◊〉 imaginable.  
The Prince who knew nothing of 〈◊〉 League, and besides was none of the m● politic Flatterers, or Dissemblers, ma● times vexed Lafoy Chaise with some pe● Mortifications, which incensed him 〈◊〉 much the more. But that which ma● him absolutely irreconcilable, was th●● same bloody Piece, called The Impost which Moliere brought upon the Stag● The Prince ordered him to make a Comedy, wherein he represented the Confessor so naturally to the Life, that y● could not fail to know him; for which the Prince promised him a Reward 〈◊〉 Two thousand Pistoles. Nevertheless that famous Comedian who foresaw th● Consequence of the Thing, altho' he set forth his Morals, and his Genius to ●he Life, yet forbore to personate his Figure. The Prince therefore was not so fully satisfied with the Piece; he would have had it spoken out more clearly, and complained of it to Moliere, who justified himself, by giving the Prince to understand, That besides that he should have exposed himself to manifest Danger, he could not find Players that would undertake to act it, and so he should have ●ost the Play without being able to give his Highness that Satisfaction which he required of him. Thereupon the Prince resuming calmer Thoughts, and having again perused it, found that Moliere spoke nothing but Reason; and that the Copy sufficiently resembled the Original, without any necessity of adding new bold Strokes. So that at length the Play was acted before the King; and the Impostor appeared the first time, tho' not in the Habit of a Jesuit, yet in a long lose Cassock, and a Hat with broad Brims. The success of it answered Expectation; it was generally applauded, and in regard there was no body but knew the Person, it kept awake the Attention of the Spectators to that degree, that there was never known so profound a Silence upon the Stage. T●● next Day it was over all the Court, T●● Father La Chaise had been acted upon 〈◊〉 Public Theatre. Neither did the Prin●● take any care to conceal the Part whi●● he had in it: So that when the noise 〈◊〉 it began to be spread abroad in the City, 〈◊〉 Crowd that came to see it was so great, th●● they were forced to shut up the Door● and send away above a Thousand Person● I leave the Reader to Conjecture in wh●● a Rage the Father was. He belched fo● Fire, and Flame against those that in su●● a manner derided God, and Religion for he would not seem to agree, That 〈◊〉 Comedy was made upon him. 'Tonly his Zeal for the Glory of God th●● made him speak. Under that Preten●● he engaged the first Precedent in the Q●●●rel, who forbidden the public acting of th● Piece upon his Request. The Curate 〈◊〉 St. Eustachius also, whom he had w●● to his side, and a great many others wh●● he had made of his Party, out of a de●● to please him, preached against it; 〈◊〉 that for a Year together, the Pulpits th●●●der'd out nothing else but Anathem● against the Author, and his Adherent However, the King gave Moliere th● Permission, which disannulled the Pre●●dent's Prohibition, and the Comedy was acted with as numerous a Concourse as before. He also afterwards granted him a Benefice in the Chappel-Royal of Vincennes, for one of his Friends: which made many People believe, That the Confessor had but a short time to Reign. But the Event showed, That they were deceived in their Conjectures; and that if the King consented to put those little Mortifications upon him, 'twas only to blind the Eyes of the Queen, and such as had no kindness for him. In a word, from that time forward he was very much guided by his Directions; and if he did not always punctually follow 'em, at least he harkened to his Advice in many Affairs of highest Importance.  
In the mean time, the Triumvirate began to fall to pieces. Louvois, and the Father considered, that notwithstanding ●ll their Efforts, Lausun would keep his Post, that he grew in favour more, and more every Day, and that in the end it might prove fatal to 'em, if they did not close with him betimes. Besides they ●aw that La Valiere got herself many Enemies out of an affected Resolution, ●ot to beg any Favours for any body; that her Beauty began to whither; and that most certainly the King would suddenly quit her, so soon as he met with more potent Charms: so that they shou●● be Victims to the new Mistress, and Lausun, who would be sure to link himself with her. And thus you see our T●● Politicians, the nearer they appro●● her Enemy, the farther removing themselves at a distance from La Valli●● But the Count, whose presumption wa● very great, looked upon their returning to him, with as much Indifferency, 〈◊〉 he had beheld their slighting him before. Nevertheless he accepted the● Friendship, and acted sincerely wi●● 'em.  
Nor was it long before what the foresaw came to pass. The King ●●held Montespan, who was generally acknowledged to be the most celebrated L●dy of the Court; and therefore su●●●ring himself to fall in Love with her W●● and Soul, he was willing to make so● Trial of the Substance.  
Lausun had a great mind to h● Courted her; but perceiving the Ki● Inclination, he was glad of the Opportunity to offer him a Sacrifice; he infla●●● his Passion; extolled and magnified 〈◊〉 Merit and Charms of his Goddess; adding withal, That he understood the Grandeur of the Conquest, but that he had not a Heart that durst presume to Love in the same place with his Prince. The King Thanked him; and was so well pleased with him for this Surrender, that to repair his Loss, he gave him leave to make Choice of any Mistress that pleased him in the Court; and that he would persuade her to have him. He also entrusted him to speak to the Lady in his Favour; so that he had an Opportunity to make her sensible how much more she was beholding to him for quitting his Affection to her. In short, The King loved her, and she received his Love with all the Joy of a Woman that breathed nothing but Ambition. The difficulty was, to work the Confessor to a Liking of this new Commerce between two Married Persons, whose Husbands grew Horn-mad to that degree, that the King was forced to Banish the Marquis of of Montespan, by reason of the hideous coil he kept at Court for the taking his Wife from him.  
Now though this Story was something like to that of David and Bathsheba, the Father thought it not so proper to be Nathan. There was no such necessity for him to trouble himself much about the Business That Holy Man had always a Moral ready at a dead-lift, and Pistol-proof against the most crying Adulteries. So that he submitted with an Exemplary Resignation to the Pleasure of his King. More than that, he caused Lausun to let Montespan know, and afterwards went himself to assure her of his inviolable Devotion to her Interests. She, on the other side, promised him reciprocal Adherency, and that he might be certain she would serve him to the utmost of her Power, both for and against all In short, Although till then they were but very little Acquainted, they became Intimate Friends before they parted.  
Poor La Valliere, who saw these things transacted before her Face, wept Day and Night, and made such mournful Complaints, as would have mollified Stones. She went ten times, like a Mad woman, to Father La Chaise, on purpose to upbraid him with his Infidelity; b●● he was always invisible when she came One day among the rest, that her Fury had transported her to seek him out a● far as Paris, in the Professed House, whither he goes two or three Days in a Week, and that Answer was made her, That he was gone: she not being so satisfied, alighted out of her Coach, and would be let into the Convent. The Porter opposed her; and the Noise that she made, fetched out several of the Jesuits that stopped her from going any farther. Then melting into Tears, and abandoning herself to all her Sorrows, she thundered out a thousand Exclamations against that Knave, who had been the first who confirmed her in her Tenderness for the King; who had promised her a Thousand times, that he should never engage himself to any other; and yet notwithstanding all his Promises, and his Fear of God, had basely betrayed her, and had authorised the King to commit an infamous Adultery, and take another Man's Wife from him. In short, In less than a Quarter of an Hour she informed all those that were present of all the secret Transactions that had passed between her and him. The Jesuits were ready to hang themselves at this unlucky Accident, for which there was no Remedy. For she was a Fury not to be approached but at the Peril of him that came within her reach. And if Mareshal the Bellefonds had not arrived in the interim, and carried her away, she had most certainly revealed a great deal more, so much she was beside herself. I know not whether Night brought her to herself, and caused her to see that extreme Folly that she had committed, and made her ashamed of what she had done; or whether her Despair to see her Love despised, were the only Motive. However it were, she betook herself into a Carmelite Nunnery, where she has continued ever since.  
Her Retirement delivered Father La Chaise from an extraordinary Disturbance that extremely tormented him: for he made no question but that in her Fury she would have affronted him even in the King's Chamber.  
Montespan could not moderate her Joy, that now she had no longer any Rivaless that could dispute with her the Prince's Heart, and keep her from being sole Predominant. Lausun rid victorious over all his Enemies; and Louvois, content with his share of her Favour, little regarded La Valliere. So that she, a poor unfortunate Mistress to a King, abandoned and betrayed, saw herself constrained to fly to a dreary Retirement, there to bewail, all the rest of her days, those transient Pleasures which she had hardly had time to taste; together with a Surplusage of Grief, not to be lamented or pitied but by very few.  
'Tis true, that Lausun did not overlong enjoy the Pleasure of Rejoicing at her Disgrace. For in a little time after, he had the ill Luck to be crushed by a Fall no less desperate than here's. Every body knows how he had enthralled the Heart of Mademoiselle de Montpensier, who demanded him for her Husband; and how the King, who thought himself engaged by his Word to let him have whatever Mistress he should make Choice of, consented to the Match; which had been solemnised in the sight of all the World, but that the Prince of Condè, in Conjunction with several other Princes of the Blood, so well represented the Stain which that Marriage would imprint upon the Royal Family, that maugre the Importunities of La Chaise, and the Interest of the Nobility who sided with Lausun, he retracted his Word, and forbade 'em to think any more of it.  
But all the Prohibitions in the World were never able to withhold two Persons, of which the one was possessed with a violent Love, the other by an inordinate Ambition; and He more-especially, since by the Match he became Related to one of the Greatest Monarches in Europe. He therefore Married her Privately, without the King's Knowledge; flattering himself, perhaps, That when the Thing was done, and that the King came to understand it, he would only look a little Gruff upon 'em for two or three Days. But he took a quite different Course: for though he loved 'em both very well, yet he would never consent to let the Marriage be made Public; and in regard there was some Reason t● fear lest the Princess should be with Child he sent the Count to Bastille; and thence removed him to Pignerol, where he remained Sixteen Years; that is to say, t● there was no longer any Danger of thei● Interviews: at the end of which time, Mademoiselle purchased her Liberty, with the Loss of the Sovereignty of Dombes.  
Louvois was not very sorry for 〈◊〉 Misfortune. He was always a Favourite at least, and not a little formidable: fo● tho' they were all Three leagued together as I said before, to exclude all others from the King's Favour, and particularly th● Princes of the Blood; nevertheless, the● was no depending upon Lausun.  
But the King, who had been lon● hatching the Design of Universal Monarchy, harkened very much to the Councils of Father La Chaise; with whom Cardinal Mazarine had left excellent Memoirs upon that Subject, and who of himself proved greatly serviceable toward it, by means of the Jesuits, People prepared for any Undertaking, and of whom he had always a hundred in his sleeve ready to Obey all manner of Commands. The Draught of this Design which he had drawn up, looked with as fair a Prospect as any in the World. The King of England was to be lulled a-sleep, whatever it cost; which appeared to be no difficult thing to do, provided you fed him with Money. Then was the King to fall upon Holland, and make himself Master of it. Which done, the Spanish Low Countries, the Bishoprics of Liege, Munster, and Cologne, could not have made any long Resistance. Then an Alliance was to be made with the Turk, to fall upon the Emperor on both sides, and then divide the Spoils. Thus you see the Design was laid; and if it has not had that good Luck which was expected, it has not been for want of Conduct; for all the secret Tricks, and scandalous Artifiees of Knavish Policy, have been made use of to bring it to pass; except of latter Years, wherein I must confess they committed some Capital Faults which are never to be recovered: Of which I shall speak in due place.  
Now in regard the first step they were to make in this great Enterprise, was, to make sure of the King of England, 
1670.  the King resolved to send thither his Sister-in-Law, against the Advice of Father La Chaise, who had no Kindness at all for her; and who, as he said, was not good Catholic enough to be entrusted with such a Negotiation. However, she set forward, and arrived at Dover; where she was met by the King her Brother, to whom she made those Proposals with which she was entrusted; which were, To have an Alliance Offensive and Defensive against all Princes; To break the Triple League; and, To make War upon Holland in particular.  
But whether it were that the King had no Inclination to the Propositions of himself; or that the Princess not thinking they would be of any Advantage to him, dissuaded him from meddling, she returned without doing any thing. Nor did Father La Chaise fail to lay hold of the Opportunity, to render her suspected to the King, by putting him in mind, that he had told him what would come of it, before she went. But whether it were that the King bore her any Grudge, or any other Person, she died at St. Clou, within Three, or Four Days after her Return. God knows how, for we could never hear of any thing else, but that she was very well in the Morning; only after she had supped up a Mess of Broth, she cried out I am Poisoned. So died that poor Princess in the Twenty sixth Year of her Age, and Fifteen Days over.  
Now, though they were not so Successful the first time to involve the King of England wholly in their Interests, yet the Design was not given over. To which purpose Father La Chaise proposed to the King to make use of the Jesuits. 'Tis certain, Sir, (said he) that they are the fittest Persons in the World to manage both King Charles, and his Brother the Duke of York. For not to reckon upon their being both Catholics at the bottom of their Hearts, in regared they have been bred up in our Religion, Your Majesty knows that they are deeply obliged to the Society. Had it not been for the Supplies of Money which they furnished 'em withal, they had been in danger of making but a small Figure in the World. Our Fathers of France, alone by themselves, allowed him Twenty thousand Crowns a Year, which there is little likelihood will be ever re-payed 'em. I speak this, (added he) to let your Majesty know, that a Jesuit will be no ominous sight to that Prince. I believe it (replied the King) nor am I ignorant of the Kindnesses he has received from your Society: So that there is good Reason to hope, that he will do much upon their Solicitations. But with what an Eye d'ye think will your Fathers be looked upon in England? Do you believe they will be safe there? Never think it; and if they should once come to be known there, the Character of Agent, or Envoy will never protect 'em from the Fury of the People. I should rather choose to employ the Duchess of Portsmouth, who has hitherto served me faithfully in several little Affairs, that I have entrusted to her Management; and I am persuaded, she will be no less useful to me in great Ones. She is very nimble, and dexterous in Business, and possesses altogether the very Heart and Soul of the King; and frankly to tell you a Mistress has a Hundred Opportunities, and Tricks, to improve Persuasion, which the most cunning Ministers can never meet with. Sir, (replied La Chaise with a Smile) your Majesty may speak knowingly in that particular: I have nothing to object against it. I am also convinced, That the Duchess of Portsmouth is now the only Person that can undertake this Affair with Success. There needs no more than to instruct her well in your Majesty's Intentions, and 'tis only to that purpose, that I have proposed to send some of our People into that Country. Very good, (replied the King) I consent to it, but whom shall we send? Your Majesty, (answered La Chaise) cannot make choice of a better Man than Father De Carnè. He is near of Kin to the Duchess, and well-beloved by the Duke of York; and besides that, he is one of the most Politic Headpieces in our Order. The King agreed to it, and sent him away Fifteen Days after, furnished with Three or Four Suits of Modish Apparel, by way of Disguise.  
So soon as he arrived at London, he went to wait upon the Duchess of Portsmouth, who entertained him in a very courtly manner, for above a Quarter of an Hour, not knowing who he was. However, she bethought herself that she knew 〈◊〉 Face, tho' after long tormenting her Brain, she could not call to mind where she ha● seen him, or how she came acquainted with him; so that at length she was constrained to ask his Name.  
I find (said the Father) that Fortune, and Grandeur have made you forget you● old Friends, else you could never have banished poor Father Carnè so utterly from your Thoughts. Is it possible (cried the Duchess) that it should be you, dear Cousin, (embracing him) i● truth I beg your Pardon. But, good God, what Business brings you hither? D'ye know the Danger you are in? Should you once be discovered by the Mobile, there would be no way to save you. Is your Zeal so warm as to embolden ye to come hither, in search of Death, with so much Gaiety, and Briskness? I knew the time when you were more sparing of your Life. The time past is not the present, Madam, (answered he.) 'Tis true, that in my Youth, I loved my Pleasures, perhaps a little more than became a Person of my Coat; but now I am become a Man that only seeks to serve God, and his Prince; and 'tis upon that account only, that I come hither. 'Tis from the King, (continued he) that I come. He expects from you an Important piece of Service; and as I know you will be overjoyed to have the Opportunity, I shall not trouble you with long Remonstrances, but only deliver his Letter into your Hands, together with another from the Reverend Father Lafoy Chaise, who has written to ye likewise: and I am to give ye notice, that you are beholding to him for the best part of the King's Resolutions to make choice of yourself to serve him before his Ambassador M. de Croissy, the Lord Treasurer, who is wholly at his Devotion, and Twenty others, who would have been glad to have given his Majesty Proofs of their Fidelity to him. And so saying, he presented the Letters to the Duchess, who opened 'em immediately with a great deal of Earnestness. The First of which from the King, was as follows.  
Madam, Duchess of Portsmouth,  
THE sincere and true Affection which I bear the King of England, my Brother, and good Friend, which I have endeavoured to make known to him upon all Occasion, having made me passionately desirous a long time since, to join with him in a strict and lasting Alliance, which uniting both our Empires in the Bond of Peace and Amity, might enable us not only to repel the Assaults of our Enemies, but also to repress their Boldness, I sent to him Madam Henrietta Stuart, our dear Sister of happy Memory, to propound a Treaty which could not have been but very Advantageous to him. But she found him so prepossessed by the Councils of certain Person about him, who minding nothing but then voluptuous Pleasures, would be at their W●● end to see him undertake any thing to his Honour, that it was impossible to obtain any thing of him.  
Nevertheless, in regard I cannot, without great Grief of Mind, behold him under such a Lethargy so contrary to his Interest, especially when the Hollanders out brave him to the highest Degree, I thought it fit to write to yourself, requesting you to represent to him, in my name, how prejudicial such an excessive Love of his Repose will be to him a last the apparent Aim of the Hollanders being to establish their Commerce, upon the Ruin of the Trade of England, and to make themselves Masters of the Sea, from which they do not think themselves far off, since they already refuse to lore Sail to his Men of War, and have violated the Laws of Nations, in driving his Merchants from their settled Factories, and Places of Trade. Besides, I cannot believe, that he has altogether forgot these zealous Sentiments which I have formerly observed in him for the Catholic Religion, and the Re-establishment of it in England, which would be one of the most Glorious, and Christianlike Designs that ever were set on Foot. In the first place therefore, the Pride of the Hollanders must be humbled, and they themselves disabled from being in a Condition to embroil their Neighbour Kingdoms. I see nothing of Difficulty in it; that Republic has more of Pride, than Strength: So that if the King my Brother will but join with me, I make no question of Conquest, by God's Assistance.  
I flatter myself that he will do me so much Justice, as to believe that 'tis not my own Interest which makes me thus Importunate. He is concerned at least, as much as I to bring 'em down; it being certain, that while that Commonwealth subsists, 〈◊〉 will never suffer any Alteration in England, either as to the Government, or in Religion; and that the Parliament who are well assured of it, will take all opportunities to set their Feet upon his Neck; so that if he does not betimes prevent the Effects of their Independent, and Republican Humour, he will f● himself reduced to be no more than the first Gentleman in his Parliament.  
'Tis with a great deal of Sorrow that 〈◊〉 foretell the King my Brother, a Misfort● of this Nature: However, I shall have 〈◊〉 least, this Satisfaction within myself, th● I have neglected nothing to let him know it, and hinder it from falling upon him.  
As to what remains, in regard his Parliament, whose Aims are far remote from whe● they ought to be, will never consent to a We● that will be so ruinous to it, and therefore wil● never give him Subsidies to maintain it, I offer to supply him with all the Money, and Ammunition which he shall stand in need of for the setting out of his Fleet.  
Besides all this that I have said to you▪ Father Carnè will more fully inform you of our Intentions. I make no question but you will make use of all the Credit which your Deserts have acquired in the good Thoughts of the King my Brother, so that I never stopped in my Considerations about the choice which it behoved me to make of the Person fit for this Negotiation. Do me then, if it lies in your power, this Service which I promise myself from your Friendship, and leave to me the Care of Acknowledgement. God have you in his Keeping, Madam, Duchess of Portsmouth.  
Fontainbleau, November the 18th. 1670.  
Lafoy Chaise's Letter ran thus:  
Madam,  
YOU will understand by the King's Letter the Glorious Distinction which he makes between Yourself, and so many Persons, whose Devotion, and Fidelity for him are Inviolable. He relies upon you for a Negotiation, upon the Success of which depends the Destiny of Europe. A Great Princess was entrusted with the same before you, and tho' the Pains she took proved Unsuccessful, His Majesty has better Hopes in Yours. He knows, Madam, how difficult a thing it will be, to refrain from yielding to the Persuasions of a Person, whose particular Privilege it is to prevail over all Hearts. Besides, We are easily inclined to believe, Th●● a Wit so piercing, so solid, so insinuating 〈◊〉 Yours, will easily find a way to accomply what you undertake; and so much the rather, because, upon this occasion, His Majesty proposes nothing to the King of England, 〈◊〉 what is for his great Advantage.  
However it be, Madam, the King expect from you the most important Piece of Service that can be done him by a Subject, since 〈◊〉 concerns the most dazzling and most magnificent Act of conspicuously glittering Honour, that a mighty Prince could ever aim at; 〈◊〉 mean the universal Monarchy, which it i● in your power to facilitate him, or rath●● which you will assure him, if you prosper 〈◊〉 the Affair which he entrusts in your Hands Judge, Madam, what Blessings, and wh●● Honours are reserved for You. Make i● therefore of all the Power which your Beauty and your rare Endowments have given y●● over the Heart of a Monarch that loves a●● dotes upon you. You can never do it upon 〈◊〉 juster occasion, since it concerns the Honour of your Prince, the extirpation of Heresy, and the exaltation of our Mother the Holy Church, I dare be bold to say, That whatever Courses you take, of what Nature soever they be, will be extremely meritorious before God, provided you direct your Intentions right, and will, infallibly, procure ye eternal Bliss.  
You see, Madam, that all manner of Reasons, both spiritual and temporal, oblige ye to leave nothing unomitted: and I engage to make the King take notice of the Zeal and Affection wherewith you shall be pleased to serve him in this Affair.  
Moreover, Madam, be convinced of my most humble Respects, and of the real desire I have to give you Proofs of my profound Esteem, by all manner of Services: Grant me the Favour to accept my unworthy Offers; and by that means rid me of the Trouble which it would be to me, to think that I am in vain, and unprofitably Yours, etc.  
Fontainbleau, November the 18th. 1670.  
When this Letter came to my Hands, could not forbear laughing at the pleasant Method which Father Lafoy Chaise prescribed the Duchess to gain Paradise: 〈◊〉 know no body but would easily pur●ue it, could they confide in the Father's Assurances, or could they believe that the Morals of this worthy Casuist were true.  
The Duchess who has a world of Wit, ●ould not choose but be sensible of it; but in regard that every body loves 〈◊〉 flatter themselves, she took but little notice of it. Certain it is, that without making the least semblance of it to Father Carnè, who would by no means have relished the least Jesting upon this particular, she testified an extraordinary Satisfaction for the Honour which the King had done her, and promised him largely whether the thing were feasible, or whether it would be to her Honour or no.  
This Duchess of Portsmouth was th● Daughter of the Marquis of Kerovel, 〈◊〉 of the most considerable Gentlemen 〈◊〉 the Province of Bretaigne, whose Ancestors possessed a large Estate in Lan●▪ But as there are few Families that sta● for many Ages together, this was also 〈◊〉 much sunk in Reputation and Authority▪ But for all that, the Marquis had 1500 good Livres a Year, when he present his Daughter to serve the Princess Herietta Stuart. 'Tis true, he owed as 〈◊〉 as he was worth, but he lived ne'er a wi●● the less at his Ease for all that; it being ● natural to the Bretaigne Gentlemen, n● to pay what they own, that 'tis a comm● Proverb among the People of the Cou●trey, What, a Gentleman of Bretaigne, a Pay his Debts?  
But to return to the Duchess of Portsmouth. She was put to wait upon Madam, as I said before; where the King of England first saw her, and loved her ever after. So that when he came to be restored to his Crown, he begged her of the King of France and his Sister, who could not deny him so small a Favour. Presently the King sent a Yatch and a Frigate to Breast, to bring her from thence into England. Where her Wit, and her Beauty, and her meddling with State-Affairs, raised her a great number of Enemies, some in the Parliament, some among the People, and others among the Court-Ladies, among whom there were few that equalled her in Beauty. But for all this, the Love which she had for the King, or her own Good Fortune, which was the most likely, enabled her to surmount all these Difficulties with an extraordinary Courage. The chief Maxim of her Politics, was to keep in with the Duke of York, and side with France; and by that means she so well ordered her Business, that she held on a Ruling Favourite till the Death of King Charles TWO, and should I say, till the Advancement of King WILLIAM, I should not tell an Untruth.  
She is moderately Tall, well-shaped, having the Air & Gate of a Queen. She has the loveliest Mouth and Teeth in the world, and her Smiles penetrate to the bottom of the Heart. When she has a mind to be Complaisant, she is altogether lovely; but the mischief is, that she will not be Complaisant to All. And this is that which has procured her such a world of Envy and Ill-will. She has a Wit so piercing, that 'tis impossible to disguise any thing from her. Her prevailing Passion, or rather her Idol, is Ambition; to which she sacrifices her Repose, her Pleasures, her Honour, and all things in the World. Now in regard she pants after nothing but Honour, and that for several Years she has made a Considerable Figure in the World, she has assumed such an Air of Grandeur and Business, which she will never leave off as long as she lives. There is no Woman living so Proud as this Woman: but the last Revolution in England, by which she lost above Fifty thousand Crowns a Year, caused a great Alteration in her Affairs. However, she put a good Face upon the Matter, in hopes the Times would change again, or else that the King of France would give her a Considerable Pension for the Service she did him. But that sort of Gratitude is no longer in Fashion: the Partridge must be plumed while you have her in your Hands; for if once you let her go, 'tis in vain to expect she will ever return. The Duchess of Portsmouth is a fair Example of this. She defied all England, to serve her French King and Country; and for that reason was thrown out of all. Since that, she has been reduced to that necessity, as to sell her Coaches, Horses, Movables, and to turn off three fourth Parts of her Servants, no body offering her so much as a Pension of a Thousand Pistoles. So that when all her Hopes failed her, and that there was no likelihood of King James' Return, she sent her Son into England; where he became a Protestant, and married the Lord Bellasis' Widow, with whom he had a great Fortune. By which means he is upon as sure Grounds as before; and I think he has done very well.  
But leaving this Digression, the Duchess of Portsmouth was so overjoyed that she was become so necessarily Instrumental to the Designs of a Great Monarch, that in the Evening she returned this Answer to the King.  
SIR,  
THE Honour which Your Majesty does me, surpasses far my Hopes and my Ambition. I shall have henceforward some good Opinion of myself, since my King has not thought me unworthy to do him the utmost of my most humble Services upon an Occasion of so high Importance. But I dare be bold to say, That Your Majesty did me ample Justice, when you thought that my Zeal and my Fidelity would be inviolable. Though I am removed into a Foreign Country, yet I have not forgot the Advantage I enjoy, to be b●●● your Subject; nor that my Mother, my Brother, and all my Relations, are still in your Kingdom. And lastly, That I am beholding to you for my good Fortune, since it was your Majesty yourself that gave me to the King by whom I have the Honour to be beloved. Th●● Love, Sir, however it may Charm me, dis never as yet render me so Glorious as now, that it has procured me the Means to be serviceable to your Majesty; and that you w●● find by my extraordinary Diligence in performing your Commands. But in regard the King has not hitherto appeared to me so we inclined, I beg your Majesty to give me a little Time, and to afford me Leisure to take my Opportunities. 'Tis certain, That many good Designs are ruined by too much Precipitation, that might have been brought to a good Conclusion by Temporizing a little. And I am apt to think, Sir, that this is a Design of the same nature. Should I open the Business to the King at an unseasonable minute, and he should absolutely forbid me never to speak of it more to him, should I not fall into a Misfortune to be unprofitable to your Majesty? Which would be a Grief past Consolation to me. Not but that I believe he will be brought to Reason. But your Majesty yourself acknowledges, That the deceased Madam, of Glorious Memory, failed in her Attempt. And therefore, if you please to give me leave, I will proceed gently in this Affair; which by the Blessing of God will have a happy Issue; at least, I will not be sparing of my Endeavours to bring it about. I am with a most profound Respect,  
SIR, Your Majesty's most humble, etc. London, Decemb. 14. 1670.  
Afterwards she wrote the following Letter to Father La Chaise.  
Most Reverend Father,  
NEver complain more of the slender Occasions which have made me take the liberty to beg Favours of you. That which you have now done me, in persuading his Majesty to honour me with his Commands, is so great, that I shall be obliged to you as long as I live. And it would be a violent Trouble to me, not to be able to discharge the Obligations you have laid upon me, did I not know that 'tis always, your desire I should be beholding to you upon that account. I consent then, since it must be so; but know, Most Reverend Father, That if it were in my power to repay you as great Services as that which you have now done me, by an extreme Acknowledgement, or an earnest Desire to do my Utmost for them from whe● I have received 'em, I should owe you nothing.  
There is no need, Most Reverend Father, of proposing me magnificent Rewards, to engage me to do my Duty in the Negotiation wherewith you have entrusted me. You will fa● by the exact Account which I shall give you of all my Proceed, that I shall leave nothing omitted to bring it to a good Issue, upon no other Motive than my Obedience to the King and to do him faithful Service. But in regard this Affair requires a great deal of Precaution I think it the best way to proceed slowly; and dexterously to lay hold of Time and Opportunity. This is the Course that I have resolved to take till I receive new Orders.  
London, Decemb. 14. 1670. I am, etc.  
These Dispatches finished, she sent away a Courier immediately, giving him other Letters for the Pretence of his Journey; but sowed up her Answers with her own Hand, within the Lining of his Coat, under his Badge.  
In the mean time she sounded every day the King's Inclinations to the Proposal she had made him; and not finding him so averse as she thought he would have been, she expected with Impatience an Opportunity to speak to him in plain English.  
Nor was it long before she met with one: for the King having demanded a Sum of Money of the Parliament, which they would not grant him, the King complained of this Refusal, and told the Duke of Buckingham, That they used him like a Boy, whose Parents denied to give him Money, for fear he should misspend it.  
But this was nothing to an Affront which he received a few Days after. There is a Custom at London, which has been time out of mind, and which, tho' abusive and insolent, is very much in use among the Vulgar Sort. This is a certain Liberty the People take to abuse all those that go by Water, let their Condition or Quality be what it will, not excepting the King and Queen themselves who are often forced to hear themselves miscalled and abused, without being able to help themselves. But this is only in Sport, and lasts no longer than they are upon the Water: for as soon as they land, those Injuries cease, and every body has that Respect given 'em which belongs to 'em. This is a thing so delightful to the English, that many times the Court Ladies and Lords will go by Water in an Eveing, to provoke the Watermens and Basket-people to call 'em all to naught, and so return back again as content as Queens. Now it happened one Evening, that the King went in his Barge with the Duchess of Portsmouth. Presently the Canaille having espied her, cried out, A Whore! A Whore!— and asked 'em whether they were coming from a Bawdy-house, or going to one? and whether they were not the Persons that they saw Dressing at such a Surgeons. All this the King liked well enough. But when they came to ask the King how much Money the Parliament had given him to build his Palace? and where he intended to erect it? whether at London, or at Windsor? with a thousand other Impertinencies of the same nature, he could no longer contain his Passion. Parbleu (said he) Would any but an unhappy King, as I am, endure these Insolences? I could find in my heart to put 'em all to the Sword. Then the Duchess put in seasonably, and told him, That he was not to exert his Anger against those pitiful Scoundrels, but against the Parliament, that were the Occasion of all this, and who visibly went about to keep him under Pupillage. She repeated the same thing to him when she came home. At what time the King answered her, That 'twas true; and that he began to be sensible of it, and that he would take another Course. He told her farther, That he intended to Dissolve the Parliament, and Call another that should better understand their Duty. Sir, (said the Duchess) Your Majesty seems not to have rightly considered the Greatness of the Evil, since you go about to apply such Feeble Remedies. All England; of which the Parliament makes but one part, is animated with the same Spirit, that will prevail no less in another Parliament, when you have Called it, then in this. But you must go to the Bottom of the Mischief, and pull it up by the Root, otherwise you do nothing. Afterwards, she laid it before him, That so long as the Parliament found themselves supported by the Hollanders, they would be still playing the Masters more and more, till they had confined his Authority within such narrow Bounds, that when he would, it should not be in his power to help himself. The King, who was then in the lucky Minute of Persuasion, jumped with the Duchess in her Sentiments, and told her, He was very much afraid it would come to that at length, and that he was very sorry he did not hearken to the Proposals that were made him by the King of France. Certain it is (answered the Duchess) that he is the Prince of the World whose Alliance would be most advantageous for your Majesty. He loves you, and is much concerned for your Honour. He is Potent, and the only Prince in a Condition to bring down and sink the Hollanders into Perdition, upon whom you are to look as the only Obstacles of your Majesty's Grandeur. The King gave ear to the Duchess in such a manner, as to make her think that he was no way displeased with her Discourse. So that the Duchess, after a great deal more to the same Tune, and still finding he took all patiently, told him at length, That Father De Carnè, who was arrived in the Kingdom in the Quality of a Missionary, had declared to her, That the King his Master was extreme sorry that his Majesty would not (accept of his Alliance; That he foresaw, to his great Grief, the unavoidable Mischiefs which this Refusal would draw upon him; and that the said Father had Orders to engage her to speak of it to his Majesty; but that for fear of Displeasing him she had always kept herself upon the Reserve, though with a great deal of Reluctancy, because she knew the thing to be of great Importance. Upon that, the King, interrupting her, asked her where the Father was? telling her withal, That he should be glad to see him. The next day she sent for him, and the King discoursed with him a long while. She also presented him to the Duke of York; who made very much of him, and promised to do his Utmost with the King. So that in short, the Duchess of Portsmouth had leave to write to the King, That his Majesty was inclined to negotiate with him a firm and good Alliance, so soon as he should send any Person to that purpose. And the Treaty was concluded in the Lodgings belonging to the Duchess of Portsmouth, who had the greatest share in it. The Conditions were, That the King of France should defray the Expenses of the Fleet, of which an Account should be drawn up, and pay down Four millions beforehand. That for defraying the other Expenses, the King of England should begin the War, by setting upon the Smyrna Fleet Homeward-bound, by which he would be a Gainer several Millions; and that at the same time the King of France should enter Holland at the Head of 100000 Men. The Project was put in Execution Point by Point; and the Hollanders seeing the King was making great Preparations for the Sea, and not doubting but it would be against them, for that in all likelihood it could not be against France, yet could not fully persuade themselves of the truth, till they sensibly felt the Blow. They always thought that it tended either to get some Money out of 'em, or else to the re-establishment of the Prince of Orange, a thing which at that time was in Agitation among themselves; so that without ever so much as stirring, they quietly expected the whole Force of their Enemies, which had like to have utterly overwhelmed 'em. They then found it too true, That it is not sufficient for a Prince to think himself safe, because he has given no just occasion of a War; and that he ought never to repose so profoundly upon the Faith of Treaties, as not to have Forces always ready to oppose his Enemy upon any sudden breach of Peace; or according to the common Proverb, Not to rely so much upon a Neighbour, as not to keep a vigilant Eye over him. But go and preach these Politics to People, that love their Ease better than their Lives, and because they have renounced enlarging their Territories, think all others of their mind, and you may aswell preach to so many Statues. In short, this Confidence cost 'em dear: For the King of England had no sooner fallen upon the Smyrna Fleet, but the King of France filled all Holland with Terror, and Dismay. He took Maestricht, Graves, Nimeghen, and pierced as far as Utretcht, from whence he beheld but one little spot more to Subjugate. 
1672.  In that City he exercised all the Prerogatives of a Sovereign Conqueror: He changed the Magistrates, coined Money, and there received a stately Embassy from England; at what time the Duke of Buckingham, and the Lords Arlington, and Halifax, were sent from the King of England. These things tickled Lafoy Chaise even to Triumph, and Exultation, insomuch that he could not forbear ask the King, with an Air of Joy, and Content, whither he would take his Counsel another time.  
He had also Emissaries in all the Catholic Courts, more-especially with the Emperor, and the King of Spain, into whose Ears they continually pealed, That the King had no other Aim in this War, but the Extirpation of Heresy, which he was going to Attack and Combat even in the Trenches, and in the very Arms of her most formidable Champions, the English, and Hollanders; that by a visible Favour of God, there was a Way found to dis-unite 'em, and that they would themselves destroy one another: and that the Finger of God, and that Celestial Frenzy which constrained the Enemies of the People of God to fall upon one another was herein to be observed.  
The Emperor, who is a good Prince, and a zealous Catholic, seriously believed the Tales which the Jesuits told him, and making it a Case of Conscience to oppose such Holy Arms, remained in a Lethargy that surprised all the World, and warmed himself at the Fire which devoured his Nighbours' House, never minding the Danger of his own.  
At length the Elector of Brandenburg, a wise, and courageous Prince, could no longer be a Spectator in a Quarrel that so nearly concerned him. He was the first that drew his Sword to secure poor Holland, then at the last Gasp; and so lively laid before the Emperor the terrible Consequences of the King's Victories, that he obliged him to declare open War, and to send a good Army to the Rhine, under the Conduct of Montecuculi, with Orders to join the Elector of Brandenburg, and fight Turenne, after he had well tired his Army; which would have extremely weak'nd the King's Forces, and reduced him to a Necessity of quitting his Conquests to defend his own Country. This unexpected Resolution of the Emperor, extremely encumbered him; for Lafoy Chaise had always promised the contrary; nor was it a small Vexation, and Disappointment to the King. But La Chaise bid him be of good Comfort, for that he had an infallible Secret to make him break up the Campaign without fight a stroke; as he did, by Counterfeiting a private Order from the Emperor to Montecuculi, which forbidden him positively to join the Elector, whatever Commands he had received to the contrary, unless they imported an Express, and particular Revocation of the Order he had sent him. And thus the Business was carried on.  
During the time that La Chaise resided at Rome, he had for his Companion a certain Italian Friar, whose Name was Francisco Pironni, a Graver once, and an Ingenious Artist in his Trade, but withal, the greatest Cheat, and Rogue, that ever the Earth bore. La Chaise had made use of this Fellow upon sundry Occasions; wherein he showed such Proofs of his Ability, and Industry, that he thought him able to gain him many Creatures among the Jesuits in Germany, whether he sent him only upon that Design. Pironni discharged his Trust so effectually, that by means of his Intrigues, La Chaise had settled his best Correspondencies at Vienna, and it was to himself that they had recourse to counterfeit the Order which I have mentioned. They had found a way to put into his Hands some old Patent, where was both his Imperial Majesty's Sign Manual, and his Seal affixed; and both the one and the other were counterfeited so exactly well, that the Emperor himself would have been deceived. So that Montecuculi, who had incurred his Indignation by his repeated Refusals to join the Electoral Army, was absolutely justified by showing his counterfeit Orders. This Villain had graved the Seal upon a Steel of the same Bigness, and cut the Sign Manual upon a Copperplate; which being applied to the Paper, made the Impression so exact, that it was impossible to discover the Cheat, though it had been known beforehand. This being done, and the Order written above the Sign Manual, a Courier's Habit was procured for Pironni, and he carried it himself to the General, and then returned to his Convent, where it was not to be thought that any body would look for him. And this was the Reason that the Imperial Arms had so little Success that Year: And had not the Prince of Orange been so prudent, as young as he was, instead of ceasing to besiege Twenty Towns one after another, to march directly to Bon, which he took, and opened the Pass of Flanders to the Germans, whom he put into a condition to make a powerful Diversion, we had the greatest Reason to expect, that all the Remainder of the Seven Provinces would have fallen into the Hands of the French. But this Course which the Prince took, broke all their Measures in such a manner, that they were forced to abandon all, except Maestricht, and Graves.  
And as it seldom happens that one Misfortune comes alone, it so fell out, that the Parliament of England, beholding this turn of Fortune, took courage, and presented so many several Addresses to the King, that he was forced to make a Peace with the Dutch whether he would or no. However, he wrote first of all to the King of France, to let him know, that he could not avoid concluding the Peace, by reason of the Importunity of his Subjects. I could produce several Copies of the Letters written upon this occasion; but because I would not be Prolix, this shall suffice from the Duchess of Portsmouth, to Father La Chaise.  
Reverend Father,  
'TIS but some few Days ago, That the King of England was constrained to Sign a Peace full sore against his Will. I cannot tell what his Majesty of France may think of it, but I cannot forbear telling you, That in truth, he has no Reason to take it Ill, considering how long it was before he came to a final Resolution. He staved it off to the very last; and without doubt, had never consented, had he not had certain Intelligence, that the Prince of Orange, finding Holland free and quitted, began to listen to the Proposals of the Parliament, who, as your Reverence knows, had invited him into the Kingdom. We were persuaded till now, That his youthful Years, which seemed not to be ripe for great Erterprises, together with his natural moderation, and averseness to Broils, and Quarrels, would not have permitted him to give ear on that side; but since we understand, That if he were not fully resolved, yet his Wavering was enough to continue the King's Jealousies, and that the States did no way disapprove his making a Descent, which indeed would be the most advantageous Course they could take.  
The News therefore of his Hesitation, put the King of England upon coming to an absolute Determination, who could not in prudence venture the Invading of his Kingdom by the only Enemy that he had most reason to fear. A Revolution like that, would have engaged the King to a Diversion that must have been much to his Prejudice, whereas now he may interpose, as a Mediator, and procure his Majesty an advantageous Peace if he thinks it convenient; or if not, he may be in a condition to do him all possible Services underhand; and of this your Reverence may assure his Majesty. His Britannic Majesty having ordered me to send you word, that notwithstanding the forced Peace which he has made, he will never departed from that Alliance which he has contracted with him, n● from his Interests which he looks upon as his own. He has given a convincing Proof of his Constancy, in rejecting the Addresses that were made him, to repeal the Act which was made sometime since at your Request, in favour of the Nonconformists; under which Pretence, he also protects the Catholics, and their Meetings. He will do it for the future as much as he can; of which your Reverence may be confidently assured,  
I am, etc.  
The King who could not have had a more favourable Mediator than his Britannic Majesty, willingly consented to refer his Interests to him, and Sir William Temple was sent to the States to propose his Mediation, which they presently accepted. Spain, and the Empire, were more Nice, and the Prince of Orange who had no kindness for a Treacherous Peace, started all the Difficulties that could be thought of, which was the Reason, that the Thing was procrastinated for some time. Afterwards he fought that famous Battle of Seneff, against the Prince of Condè whom he had challenged to a fair Field for Fifteen Days together; while Condè, somewhat Inferior in number, kept himself within his Trenches, till at length the Prince of Orange, seeing it was impossible to follow him, Decamped. Condè, who well knew that the ways were very narrow through which he was to pass, let him go till he thought his Vanguard, and main Body were out of reach, and then came out of his Hole, fell upon the Rearguard, and utterly defeated it; and had he been so much Master of himself to have stopped there, the Honour of the Victory had been solely his. But he had too long withstood that martial Heat that importuned him to be doing; and as a Torrent stopped for a few Days by some certain Mound, becomes more terrible, and violent when once it makes way; so Condè's Warlike Ardour, that had been bounded by his Prudence for Fifteen Days, was no sooner at Liberty, but bearing now predominant Sway, it made him lose the greatest part of the Advantage which he had won before: For having passed the narrow Lanes, and being got into the Plain, he found the whole Dutch Army drawn up in good order, which received him so co●ragiously that he lost about 15000 Men, and was constrained to retire, in great Danger to have been pursued, but that Night coming on, secured him.  
The next Year Turenne was killed at a time that he thought he had had Montecuculi so fast that he could not have escaped him. Condè left the Army in Flanders to supply his room, leaving the Command of the Army to Luxemburgh, who so well ordered his Business, that the Prince of Orange could not force him to a Battle; only he took Binch, and demolished it.  
Toward the end of the Year 1676. the Commissioners met at Nimeghen, to negotiate the Treaty of Peace. Thither came the Plenipotentiaries from the Emperor, from the Electors, from the Duke of Lorraine, from Hanover, from Sweden, from Danemark, from France, and Holland, and England was Mediatrix, which made one of the most noble Assemblies that had been known. Nevertheless, whole Years were spent in regulating the Preliminaries, all which time the War was carried on vigorously, and always to the King's Advantage. For he took Condè, Bouchain, Valenciennes, Cambrai, and won the Battle of Cassel, which was attended with the Taking of St. Omer.  
This prosperous Success alarmed the Parliament of England, and forced 'em to desire his Brittanick Majesty to enter into a War; and that with so much Importunity as gave him to understand that he must resolve upon it. To that purpose they presented Two Addresses to him, laying before him the Necessity of opposing such a Torrent of Victory, more especially in Flanders; beseeching him to make an offensive League with the Hollanders. 
1677.  These Importunities very much displeased the King, who feared nothing so much as that he should be constrained to it. But at last, the Marriage of the Prince of Orange with his Niece being consummated, there was a Necessity for him to make a fair show, the best he could; so that after long Conferences with him concerning the Peace, he consented to the Addresses of his Parliament and promised to declare War against France, if she stood too high upon her Terms. Thereupon, Commissions were given out for the raising of 20000 Men; and Soldiers came in so fast, that in Six Weeks the Levies were complete: so eager were the English for a War with France.  
In the mean time, the Duchess of Portsmouth gave a punctual Account of all things to Father La Chaise, who not knowing what other Remedy to apply, told the King, That now was the time if ever, to set his Exchequer at work, 
1678.  in regard his dazzling Lovidores had a strange Operation upon the King of England. The Duchess therefore had her part given her, smartly to lay before the King the Reasons that withheld him from declaring War against the King of France his good Friend, and his only Friend that could stand by him in a case of Necessity: That it was but a bad piece of Policy to break absolutely with him, notwithstanding his repeated Promises, merely to comply with his Parliament that was in no condition to hurt him: That he was going the way to ruin all that he had been labouring with so much Trouble, for so many Years, for his own, and the Interest of Religion, not considering the Honour he would lose of being a Mediator, and Umpire of one of the most Important Wars that had been known of a long time, and leave that Advantage to some petty Prince, whose Favour he would be afterwards obliged to sue for underhand.  
The Duchess also had Orders, when she had said as much as she could say, to offer him Twelve Millions, to give the more weight, and Force to her Arguments.  
Now in regard this Contrivance was well laid, it had its Effect: The King suffered himself to be persuaded, and told the Duchess withal, that she was the only Woman of the World that had the right Notion of things, and spoke the most to the purpose in whatever she discoursed upon. And now the Design of the War was to be quite broken off whatever it cost; and the way to bring it about was to gain some Members of the Lower-House, who, when the King desired Money for the Payment of his Men, proposed that there might be none granted him, till he had given 'em Satisfaction about the Affairs of Religion. The King made a show of being very much incensed at this Resolution, than which there could be nothing more welcome to his Soul, in regard it was the fairest Pretence in the World that he could make use of, to put off his making Wa● with France.  
Add to this, That the King of France, who was afraid, lest the King should be constrained to enter into a War against him whether he would or no, as it was very probable, 
1679.  considering that he could not avoid making an authentic Treaty with the Dutch resolved to conclude a particular Peace with Holland, not questioning but that when Holland was once separated from the League, the rest would be easily brought to Reason.  
By this Treaty the King obliged himself to restore Six Places in Flanders to the Spaniards, and to quit 'em within Fourteen Days after it was Signed. The Emperor and the Confederates loudly complained of Holland, for quitting 'em in that manner, they who had entered into the War, merely in Respect to her, and for her sake. Which obliged the King of France to send Luxemberg before Mons to frighten the States, and hinder 'em from altering their Resolutions. And at the same time he gave 'em to understand, That he would not quit the Places, before they had engaged the Elector of Brandenburg to give Satisfaction to the King of Sweden his Confederate. But that was no more than a false foin to procure the Peace with more Security. For when the Day came that he was to abandon the Places, the King's Ambassadors told those of the States, that they would consent to it. So that the Ambassadors not having time to write, either to the Provinces, or the States for new Instructions, preferred Peace in that pressing Conjuncture, be-, fore War. For the King's Ministers gave 'em no more than a Days time to determine. After which, they declared, They would retire, and enter no farther into any Negotiation.  
The Peace, then, was concluded, and the Six Places in pursuance of it, were quitted, according to Agreement. The League being thus divided, all the Confederates were obliged to come to a Treaty by themselves, and every body made the best of their Market which was passably cheap. Only the poor Elector of Brandenburg, who had so generously thrust himself into the War, was the last, and left alone to bear the whole weight of the King's Arms. But in regard there was no equality between the Parties, he was glad to treat likewise, and to surrender to the Swede all that he had taken from him.  
Thus ended the War that had been kindled, and fomented by the Instigations of Father La Chaise; who no sooner saw Europe in Tranquillity on that side, but he laboured to the utmost of his Power, to disturb the Repose of it in another part. So true it is, that this busy Bon●efeu finds no rest, but in the ruin of other men's Quiet; no Pleasures, but in their Calamities. Never was he so jocund, and blithe, as when he had kindled a Flame in all the Four Corners of the World, and could say to himself, Hoc est Opus Meum:" This is my Work. This being then the Humour of the Man, we must not wonder at the Misfortunes, and Divisions that have hitherto Reigned in the several States of Europe, and which we must expect will never be at an end so long as he lives.  
Till the Year 1673. he confined his Disturbances of Sovereign States to the Persecutions of the Huguenots, the Jansenists, and several other Persons of Worth, and Honour. But these petty Crimes not appearing Glorious enough for an ungracious Wretch so signally distinguished as himself, he resolved to attack the Holy Father, and the Church itself: as being resolved to make 'em sensible, That he was destined to be the Plague of Mankind.  
I omit for this time, the black Attempts, and Tragical Revolutions which he medicated in his mind, from that time forward, and which blazed out a little after: I shall speak of 'em in their Order. At present, the Series of time engages me to say something of the Regale, which he erected at length upon the Ruin of so many fair and ancient Churches, without being moved in the least at the deplorable Misfortunes which it trailed after it. But how should such things move him, who made those Misfortunes the only Mark at which he aimed.  
The Regale is the Right which the Kings of France have of nominating to vacant Benefices, and to enjoy the Revenues of 'em, during their vacancy. 'Tis pretended, That this Right is grounded upon Custom; and that in the first Ages of Christianity, the Kings of France made choice of their Bishops at their own Pleasure. But however it were, this is certain, That the Councils of Constance, and Basle, from whence the Pragmatic Sanction was drawn, otherwise ordained the manner of providing for 'em, and decreed, That for the time to come, the Clergy, and the People should elect their Pastors, and their Bishops, and that they should be also Consecrated and Ordained by the Metropolitan, and the rest of the Bishops of the Ecclesiastical Province, without having any need of going to Rome: after which they should dispose of the Inferior Benefices within the Extent of their Diocese, or Parish.  
Now in regard this Pragmatic was equally burdensome, as well to the Popes, as Kings, Pope Leo X. and Francis I. made an Agreement together, That the Nomination to Benefices, and the disposal of the Revenues during their Vacancy, should belong to the Crown; and that all Lapses, Anticipations, and the Right of Admitting Resignations should be in the Power of the Pope: so that to speak the naked. Truth, they shared between 'em the Spoils of the poor Church of God. This, in short, is the Original and Extent of this Prerogative; which went no farther than the Lands, and Provinces that were under the French Dominion, at the time of the Agreement. For since that time, several have fallen to the Crown that were not subject to it, no more than are certain Congregations, as that of St. Maur, St. Francis, St. Dominic, etc. The General Council of Lion also, has made a Decision upon this Point; and being desirous to prevent Abuses that might follow, forbade the Introducing the Regale into such Churches where it was not in use. And the Liberties of those Churches have been since acknowledged, and confirmed by several Ordinances, Decrees, and Declarations of Philip the Fair, Philip de Valeis, Lewis XII. Henry IU. and Lewis XIII. which are preserved in the Chamber of Accounts in Paris. However, in regard it is one of the most beautiful Flowers of the Crown, Cardinal Richlieu, who was the First who laid the Foundation of that Grandeur to which it is now arrived, comprehended, among the rest of his Projects, the Extending it over all the Monarchy. In short, in the Year 1637. he began to set afoot, by the King's Counsel, the general Contest about the Regale; at what time there was a Decree of the 6th. of October, Ordaining all Bishops, and Archbishops that pretended to be exempt from the Right of the Regale, to send to the Registry of the Council, the Titles upon which they claimed their Privilege; and which granted a surceasing of Processes, sued out, or to be sued forth upon that Occasion. The Syndics of the Provinces of Languedoc, Guienne, Provence, and Dauphinate, presently obeyed the Order: Protesting, Nevertheless, That by that Proceeding they did not go about to prejudice the Liberties of those Provinces, which were not obliged to produce any Evidences, provided they were not the Evidences of Privileges, or Immunities granted by their Kings, but of Liberties, and Franchises more ancient than the Monarchy itself, in Possession of which, their Ancestors came under the French Dominion, only that what they did was to show their ready Obedience, and Respect to his Majesty. This Affair, tho' it was not altogether neglected, yet lay in a manner dormant, till the Year 1673. that Father La Chaise, the Author of all the Misfortunes of Christendom, put it into the King's Head to move this Stone, under which there lay a most venomous Serpent. But in regard this Matchiavilist understands, that the most certain way to please Princes, is to procure 'em temporal Advantages, he never minds at what rate they are to be purchased. Besides, he was afraid lest the War wherein he had engaged his Majesty should Miscarry, and therefore sought which way to render himself necessary to the King, upon some other Score, thereby to prevent the Disgrace that threatened him.  
At this time it was then, that the King finished the general Claim by a Decree in Fbruary, Importing, That the King declared the Right of the Regale to be Inalienable, and without the compass of Prescription, and to belong universally to him, in all the Bishoprics, and Archbishoprics of his Kingdom, Territories, and Countries under his Obedience, those only excepted which are exempt by Titre Onereux; that is to say, by being liable to particular Duties, and charges of Fines, Annuities, etc. In pursuance of which, His Majesty Ordains, That the Bishops, and Archbishops, shall be Bound in Two Months, from the Day that they take their Oaths of Fidelity, to take out Letters, Patents of Discharge, and to Register 'em in the Chamber of Accounts of Paris, and that they who have taken their Oaths of Fidelity before, and have not obtained their Letters Patents of Discharge, shall be bound to take 'em out, and Register 'em within Two Months in the said Chamber of Accounts; after which, and for defect of yielding Obedience within that time, their Benefices subject to the Right of the Regale, and dependant upon Royal Collations shall be declared void, and subject to a new Grant by virtue of the Regale.  
And by another Declaration in the same Month of February, the King in order to the Execution of the preceding Decree, Authorises a Roll, containing a Regulation of the Fees which shall be paid into the Chamber of Accounts by the Archbishops, and Bishops of the Provinces of Languedoc, Dauphinate, Guienne, and Province, for the Registering the Letters of Discharge, which they shall be bound to take forth.  
This Declaration, which was procured by the pernicious Counsels of the Confessor, was the Apple of Discord which divided all the Clergy of France, and the Pandora's Box, out of which have flown all the Mischiefs that have overwhelmed in a manner, all Europe, for near these Twenty Years A Work truly worthy the Author of it, and which he looks upon without question, with the same Eye as Nero formerly beheld the Flame which he himself had kindled to consume the City of Rome.  
The greatest part of the Court-Prelates, and Bishops, People devoted to Ambition, and their Pleasures, obeyed without Murmuring; and having obtained their Patents of Release, which they were ordered to take out, caused 'em to be Registered with their Oaths of Fidelity. But others, and among the rest, the Bishops of Cahors, Aleth, and Pamiers, greatly signalised themselves in refusing to submit, considering that their Submission would be a tacit Consent to the King's Pretensions, or rather of his Ministers, who were altogether unjust. Thereupon, the Court sent to every one of those Bishop's certain ecclesiastics, preferred, by virtue of the Regale, to some Benefices in their Cathedrals, which were possessed by others in Canonical Possession for several Years by lawful Titles, and upon the refusal of the Chapters to admit 'em, ordered 'em to be installed by force. These manifest Intrusions obliged those worthy Prelates, the Latter of which Two was 70 Years of Age, and had been Bishops, the one 38, the other 34 Years, during which time they had rendered themselves venerable for their Exemplary Piety, and a Residence in their Dioceses so assiduous, that they were never seen to appear at Court; these Intrusions, I say, enforced those Prelates to issue forth Ordinances against the newly preferred; and after that, to write several reiterated Letters to the King, Cardinal Bonsi, and the Archbishop of Paris. They also wrote to the Assembly of the Clergy, which met in 1675. but there was no Favour to be shown 'em, and the Clergy rejected their Complaints, not vouchsafing so much as to take Cognizance of the Affair: Nor was it possible they should expect any other, in regard the Archbishop of Paris, whose Interests, and Father La Chaise's, were inseparably linked together, presided in that Assembly, and for that Cardinal Bonsi, Archbishop of Narbonne, and by Consequence, the principal Person concerned, was gained to all Intents and Purposes, and the Bishops of Montpellier, and Beziers, were Commissioners from that Province. So that word was sent to the Dissenting Prelates, that the Affair having been decided in the King's Council, where the Clergy's Agents were present, and consenting, it was in vain to make any Opposition. As if the Agents had had sufficient Power to disannul by their Authority, the sacred Rights of so many ancient Churches.  
Toward the end of the same Year, the Bishop of Pamiers was forced to make a Journey to Court, for the dispatch of some Business which he could not dispense withal, 
1675.  and the Dignity of Archdeacon of the Cathedral Church being vacant by the Death of the last Incumbent: Father Lafoy Chaise who had notice of it, having a Design to surprise the Bishop, proposed to him to procure him Letters of Dispatch▪ in favour of a Priest, whom he loved very well, and upon whom he made no question but the choice would fall. He offered likewise to expedite the same Grants for other Beneficiaries of the same Chapter, who had not as yet obtained 'em, to which the good Bishop immediately consented; but afterwards considering the Consequences that would ensue, and the Engagement which he laid upon his Church, he fearlessly retracted his word, and sent the Father word, That he could not comply with his Desires. This was cause sufficient for that Hypocrite to persecute the Bishop even to Rage, and Fury. He pealed it in the King's Ears, That he was a Rebel, a Seditious Incendiary, who aimed at nothing but to stir up the Clergy, and all his Subjects to Revolt: So that notwithstanding all his Oaths of Allegiance, all his Protestations, and Submissions to the King, he always looked upon him as a disaffected Person.  
But whatever Credit La Chaise had in the Assembly of the Clergy, when the King's Prerogatives were in Dispute, for the upholding of which he spoke with great freedom, nevertheless he could not prevent their unanimous Resolution to write a ●ong and learned Letter to the new Pope Inno●ent XI. to lay before him the horrid Impieties of the Casuists Morals, and the Doctrine of Improbability; wherein they are set forth after a manner equally Strenuous, and Eloquent.  
The Archbishop of Paris, who is of that Religion more than the Jesuits themselves, opposed it very much, as well for his own particular Interests, as out of Respect to the Society: 
1678.  but that signified nothing to the purpose, so that a Draught of the Letter was sent to all the Prelates for them to sign it. The Bishop of Aleth was one of the first that received it; who having throughly examined it, found something in it, which he thought burdensome to the Episcopal Authority, which he altered before he signed it, and sent it to the rest of the Bishops. La Chase, overjoyed at this Accident, informed his Majesty of it, painting out the Thing in the blackest Colours he could invent; and giving him ●o understand, That it was no more than a Cabal that tended merely to the Disturbance of the State, and to revive the past Disputes, ●nd Contests. So that the Intendants of Justice had Orders to write to the Bishops not to sign it, if it were sent 'em; which broke all the Measures of the Assembly, and left La Chaise Triumphant, tho' his Triumphs stopped ●ot there. For he caused all the Canons that ●ook the Bishop's part to be banished, and supplied their rooms with others, put in by Force, notwithstanding all their Ecclesiastical Orders: and in regard he had a particular Spite at the Bishop of Panniers, he caused the Revenue● of his Church, which he chief made use of for the Relief of the Poor, to be taken from him: So that the poor Man fell into great Necessity; and tho' he wrote to the King to let him know his Condition, it signified nothing, 
1679.  in regard the King was prepossessed. Now because La Chaise continued still to give out Grants of the Canonships in the Chapter of his Cathedral which was regular, but would nevertheless become secular by those Intrusions (all which was a great Grief to the good old Man) he resolved to write him the following Letter.  
Dear Father,  
I Have been designing for some time to write to ye; but on the one side I thought it would be to little purpose; besides, that People might think I complained of your Conduct in my regard, rather by the Inducement of some particular Interest, or some peculiar Discontent, than out of any Zeal to justify the Rights of the Church. Nevertheless, that God may not lay it to my Charge, that I have omitted any Means that may contribute to the good Success of the Affair, wherein I 〈◊〉 by Providence engaged, for the Liberty of his Spouse, I submitted to the Counsel of my Friends who advised me to write this Letter, leaving it to God to bless it with that Success as may be most suitable to the Designs of his Providence. Certainly if I had any reason of Distaste, either against you, or your Society, I have met with occasions enough, wherein, methought, the Love of Truth, Justice, and the public Good, enforced me to complain, and my Complaints appeared Just to all moderate Persons; but 'twas my Opinion, That Christian Humility, and Charity required, that I should keep silence, till some Necessity, not to be dispensed with, obliged me to speak. Not only my Profession of a Christian, but the Vow of my Order, are sufficient Engagements, tho' you, or your Order had any cause of Offence against me, to restrain your Revenge, to the prejudice of the Glory of God, and the Interest of his Church. You may be pleased to call to mind, Dear Father, that when I had the Happiness to see you at Paris, you told me, discoursing in reference to that Ecclesiastical Crowd that bowed and ●●ing'd to ye for Preferment, that they were gaping Wolves. With what Conscience can you then bestow upon such Wolves what is provided for the Flock of innocent Sheep. Nor have you stayed till those Wolves opened their Mouths, to demand the Prey which you have caused to be thrown into their Chaps; for as the Canonships of my Cathedral bind to a regular Life, which God had given me the Grace to re-establish in my Chapter, by the Authority of the Holy See, and the King's together, they who never desire Benefices but for the Revenues sake, would never have minded the looking after those, that oblige to Vows of Poverty, and Community of Living, had not you prepossessed, solicited, and drawn 'em on in hopes of procuring the Secularization of that Church. I know well, That Father Ferier had the same Design of Secularization upon this, and other Churches▪ but the Difficulty he met with at Rome, and the Opposition of the Parties Interested, and legally possessed, aught to inform ye sufficiently of the Will of God in this particular. So that I cannot apprehend upon what grounds, you set yourself to be an Instrument for the Destruction of a Work, which your own Brethren, whose Testimony cannot be suspected in this, have been obliged to approve and commend it upon several Occasions, by reason of that Glory which is done thereby to God, and the Edification which redounds to the Church. Much less can I apprehend upon what score you could publicly say, That God would be more glorified if the Doors of my Church were shut up. Dear Father, What is become of that profound Respect, that Submission with which you formerly reverenced the Holy Church, and the Holy See, that now you go about to destroy what both have established; and if it be true, as some give cut, not only without Authority, but against the King's Consent. For 'tis observed, That in the last Brevets which you have got dispatched for the Canonships of my Cathedral, that the Clause formerly inserted at the beginning, which binds the Persons preferred, to take upon 'em the Habit, or to admit themselves Noviciates, is left out, and that Expedients are also found out to exempt those who were bound to those Ceremonies by their Brevets. There are also several Intelligent Persons, and your good Friends, who attribute this Conduct of yours to a Design to securalize my Church, notwithstanding Mine, and the Opposition of my Chapter, and without any Authority from the Pope. Is this the acquittal of the Promise you made me, as well for those whom you have engaged in those Benefices, as to some ecclesiastics of my Diocese? Think you the Public does not observe how you abuse that Belief which your Quality of Confessor fixes in the King's Mind; not only in causing him unknowingly to violate the Rights of the Church, but also to Authorise in his Name, those pieces of Injustice, which would hardly be believed, did they not appear in open Acts of Violence. 'Tis impossible, Reverend Father, that you should have solidly studied the Business of the Regale, and not understand, That the King has not that Prerogative in my Diocese, no more then in several others, so that you do an extraordinary prejudice to my Church, in persuading his Majesty to assume it to himself. Now if you are not fully acquainted with this Matter, How is it possible for ye to be so confidently Instrumental to our being handled upon this Occasion with the same Rigour, as if we were Enemies of the Church, and State. Nay tho' it were true, that the King had this Privilege, which it is certain he has not, Can you have the Conscience to deal is such a rugged, and irregular manner, so contrary to all the Laws of God, and Man, and a Bishop, and a Chapter, whose only Crime was their Zeal a little too ardent in defending the Rights of the Church, and their Obedience to a general Council. The shortness of this Letter permits me not to set down a Thousand Reasons that prove invinceably the Justice of my Cause, and the ill Usage we have suffered for so long time under this Pretence. Besides that, I find you have not so much need of being well informed, as well inclined, in reference to 〈◊〉 Which lies not in any Earthly Power, but in God alone to do. For your fear of incurring the King's Indignation, should he come to understand how he has been Flattered by him who had a greater Obligation than any other Man, to tell him Truths so necessary for his Salvation, and his real Honour; your Reluctancy to confess that you have done amiss; your Desire to Disgrace a Bishop, who cannot but disapprove your Maxims, because he does not find 'em conformable to those of Jesus Christ, and his blessed Saints, are Difficulties not to be surmounted by any other, then by him who is the Lord of all Hearts. Believe me, Dear Father, for as I have the Honour to be a Bishop, I have the Privilege to give ye good Advice; You have reason to fear incurring not only the Indignation of God, in violating the Indignation of his Spouse, but also the Anger of the King, who is too quicksighted not to come to the Knowledge one Day of these Things; and too just, not to condemn the pernicious Actions to which your Counsels have bowed him contrary to his Inclinations. And instead of God, and the King's being well pleased with your performing the Office of a Confessor, and solidly labouring the Salvation of his Soul, whose Conscience you have in Charge, They whom you unfortunately expose to Censures would be more engaged to ye, if you would exhort 'em to make themselves worthy of Benefices, and not to possess themselves of 'em, in defiance of the Ecclesiastical Canons. And all good Men would bless God for seeing you employ your Credit for the Good of the Church, by persuading his Majesty to content himself with enjoying the Prerogative as his Predecessors did, according to the limitation of the Council of Lion. I conclude, Dear Father, with laying before ye, That it would become your Charity to let a poor Bishop, now 70 Years of Age, and by whose labouring 34 Years in the Function of his Episcopacy, you may well guests him not to be far from his end, to die in Peace; and not suffer an Assembly of Persons who have consecrated themselves to God, not without the extraordinary Edification of many, to be dissipated by People the visible Enemies of a regular Life. I hope that God will give you the Grace to be Faithful till Death; and for my part, Dear Father, however you deal by me, I shall never cease to be your Servant, Francis Bishop of Pamiers.  
This Letter wrought no other Effect, then only that it more incensed La Chaise against him, who persevered in his Hatred to that degree, that after his Death, he revenged himself upon him in the Person of his Grand Vicar, whom he caused to be condemned to death by a Decree of the Parliament of Tholo●s● as guilty of High-Treason, because he opposed the Violences of those that were preferred by virtue of the Regale, and caused him to be Executed in Effigy, clad in his sacerdotal Habit.  
The famous M. Anthony Arnault, Doctor of the Sorbonne, was one of those who could not approve the Regale. All the world knows what a terrible War he maintained against the Jesuits, 
1680.  for above 30 Years together, in defence of Jansenism, of which he was the Chieftain. However, he was still supported against their Efforts, by the means of his Nephew, M. de Pompone, Secretary of State But in the Year 1680. La Chaise having rendered him a suspicious Person to the King who was made believe, that he was the stiffest Antiregalist in France, and to be the very Person that had Poisoned, in such a manner, the Bishop of Aleth, and Pamiers, he fell into utter Dsgrace, together with his Nephew, who had disclosed to him, at the time that the King put forth his Declarations for the Regale, That M. Boucherat, Counsellor of State, had given his Advice in Council, That the Churches should be left free in the Possession of their Immunities, and Privileges, without any farther Disturbance. Arnault gave Intelligence of this to the Pope, who could not forbear to insert this Circumstance in a Brief which he wrote some Years after to the King. The King was much surprised at it, and endeavoured to sift out through what Channel this Secret was conveyed. But Father La Chaise soon unfolded the Riddle, assuring him that it was his Secretary Pompone's Discovery, who was confined to his own House; and Arnault his Uncle, was ordered to quit St. James' Street where he lived, with a Prohibition to have any Assemblies in his Ho●● Upon which, misdoubting the Consequence of such a harsh beginning, and fearing to be put into the Bastille, he retired into Holland for good and all, where he composed his Apology for the Politics of the Clergy; which the very well done, and to the King's Advantage was however condemned, and a poor Prie●● committed to the Bastille, at the prosecution of La Chaise, for endeavouring to publish some few Copies in France. And the Reason that obliged him to it, was not only because the Book justified the Proceed of the Antiregalists, and particularly of the Bishops of Aleth, and Pamiers, but because M. Arnault was the Author of it. This is 〈◊〉 Quality peculiar to Father La Chaise, that he would condemn any Book i'th' World, tho' written never so much to the Advantage of Him, and his Party, if he had an Antipathy against the Author. And this was visibly to be seen at the same time: For the famous Minister M. de la Rocque, composed an excellent Treatise of the Right of the Regale, and which is one of the most strenuous Pieces that have been seen upon that Subject, nevertheless the Confessor forbidden him to publish it, that it might not be said of him, That he made use of a Heretic Pen, to support the King's Prerogatives against the Church: and perhaps i● that he did not do so much amiss.  
The same could not be said of M. Chastai●, who was a good Catholic. He had composed a very excellent Piece, entitled, The true Erplication of the Concordat: Wherein he made out a very specious Right of Nomination to several Benefices. The King had also appointed Commissioners to examine it; but what availed all this to a Person whom La Chaise hated. He was forbid to print his Book, and that was all the Reward he had for his Pains, to have laboured a long time to no purpose, and perhaps against his Conscience.  
Nor were they the Churches only endowed with Benefices which La Chaise resolved to Subjugate under the Yoke of the Regale, but the Monasteries of the Urbanist Monks of the Order of St. Francis, who ever since their Institution, had been Priories Elective only from Three Years, to Three Years. The whole Congregation of St. Maur, among the Benedictines, underwent the same Fate. The Abbot of Clugni, who had been Canonically elected, was expelled, and the Monks enforced to receive the Cardinal of Bovillon, who took possession of it. By virtue of the same Prerogative, the Abbeys of Chezal-Benoist, which had been united to that Congregation by the Authority of the Holy See, and the Grants of several Kings, had every one a secular Abbot imposed upon 'em, as had also a Thousand others, too tedious here to be inserted. All these Intrusions were enforced, where Residence was absolutely necessary; for Example, upon Nunneries, and all this by Force of Arms, and the Ministry of a 100 Dragoons, who after they had broke open the Gates of the Nunneries, committed a 1000 Disorders, and many times most horrid Violences, and Sacrileges.  
These Exorbitances, at length, reached the Holy Father's Ears, by the Complaints of the Monks and Nuns, at the same time that the Bishops of Pamiers, and Aleth, made the same Lamentations. And it grieved him beyond Expression to see, That a most Christian King prepossessed by an impious Varlet of the Society of Jesus, as he styles himself, should yet the Church with Persecutions so cruel, and till then unheard of under the Reign of a Catholic Prince. He wrote therefore to the King several Briefs, and laid before him with an Affection altogether cordial and paternal, the Injustice wherein he had unwarily engaged himself by the Counsels of his Ministers, and particularly of Father La Chaise, who had given him an Idea of Things contrary to Reason, and Equity. Beseeching him, for God's sake, to surcease a Proceeding so unbecoming those great Actions, which had otherwise extolled his Fame; and no longer to permit the Sighs, and Groans of so many pious People, consecrated to God, to ascend to Heaven, and implore Assistance against the Violences, and Profanations which they suffered under his Authority. He also wrote to the Cardinals Bonzi, and D'Estrees, to the Archbishop of Paris, and Father La Chaise, which wrought no other Effect, but only that it procured the sending of D'Estrees to Rome. Who to persuade his Holiness to swallow patiently this bitter Cup, set forward in August 1680.  
The Clergy, who were then assembled, had received a large Brief from his Holiness upon the same Subject, to which all the answer they gave was this, that they wrote a Letter to the King, wherein they told him, that the Pope took upon him to concern himself in a business which they could by no means approve, in regard that instead of submitting to the common good of the Church, he only gave people an opportunity to cabal together, to increase Confusion and Schism, and to encourage and embolden seditious spirits, the consequences of which would be very pernicious.  
The next year the Assembly had several debates upon the Regale. The Archbishops of Rheims, Ambrun, and Albe, the Bishops of Rochel, Autun, and T●oye being Commissioners, it was pronounced that the Regale was a Right annexed to the Crown not to be alicnated, without the compass of prescription, and against which no opposition could be made directly or indirectly, without palpable injustice.  
The poor Bishop of Pamiers, well understanding the unworthiness of these Prelates who had sold themselves to Court Favour, and had so perfidiously betrayed the Rights of the Church entrusted in their Hands, and finding himself alone, poor, feeble, dispossessed, and no way able to support 'em, was seized with such a lively sorrow, that he soon followed his Brother, the Bishop of Aleth, who died some months before. During his sickness, he wrote three Letters; one to the Pope, desiring his Prayers and his Protection of the Church, which most assuredly after his death would be subjected to the Regale; another to the King, to ascertain him, that he had never taken the liberty to oppose his Ordinances and Decrees, but to satisfy the duty of his Function, and the Character he wore, which obliged him indispensibly to defend the interests of the Church, which had been deposited i● his hands: otherwise that he had been always careful to preserve that affection and respect which he owed his Majesty: and at last concluding, besought his Majesty to be persuaded of his good intentions, and that he died his most humble Servant and Subject.  
His third Letter was to Father La Chaise, which I thought fit to insert in this place, in regard that I am not otherwise concerned to speak of the Regale, the● as it relates to him who was the first promoter of it, as also of that great difference between the Courts of Rome and France that afterwards ensued, and which are events of his Life of too great importance to be omitted, though with all the brevity that may be, for fear of tiring the Reader. The Bishop of Pamiers Letter ran thus.  
Dear Father,  
BEing now just about to surrender my soul to God, and to answer before his Sovereign Tribunal for all my Actions, Words and Thoughts, I have employed these last minutes of my life, to attempt the obtaining from your Charity a perfect reconciliation with me, and a more gentle usage of my Church. You know dear Father, in your Conscience, that she was never subject to the Yoke which you would impose upon Her; she is exempted from it, not by any privileges granted by Kings, but by Immunitys with which she was born. Recover yourself, then, dear Father, and let not your desire to please a great King, whose Confessor you have the honour to be, transport you to Combat the Cause of God, by representing things to the King in a false mirror. God is now calling me to give an account of my Administration; but remember, Dear Father, that the time will come, which may not be, perhaps, far off, that you must do the same. Think seriously what you will have to say for your justification at that great day. I cannot conceal from you, Dear Father (for now what signifies dissimulation to me?) you undertake not only for your own soul but for the Kings, which you have fallaciously becalmed, by saying to it Peace, Peace, when there is no Peace.  
Take not amiss, I beseech you, these admonitions of mine. I may pretend to advise you as a Bishop, but the point of Dea●● gives me a new privilege. As to what remains, if I have done any thing to offend you, I beg your Pardon with all my Heart, with this protestation, that I never did it willingly or on purpose: farewell, Dear Father; assist me with your Prayers; I am, etc.  
Father La Chaise was as little moved at this Letter, as he was with another before it; nor was it any obstruction, but that he caused Father Cercle, the Bishop's grand Vicar, to be hanged up in Effigy, as I have already related, after La Chaise had him expelled, from his Benefice, and intruded one Fortassim into it.  
The year 1682, began with an Assembly of the Clergy, who deputed the Archbishop of Paris to the King, to return him thanks for upholding the Rights of the Regale, protesting with all, that they would be ready to support 'em to the utmost of their Power, and menacing the Pope himself, to take steadfast resolutions as becoming great Prelates, in case he persevered in his precautions, and prayed his Majesty that he would enjoin his Ambassador the D. d' Estrces to signify their determinations to his Holiness.  
But these were only Roses and Flowers in comparison of the famous Decree of the same Assembly dated the 19 of March, which is now the grand occasion of all the present difference between the two Courts, and which contained the four ensuing Propositions.  
I. That neither the Pope nor the Church had any Right of Jurisdiction over the King's Temporalities; and that their Subjects cannot be absolved from their Oaths of Fidelity upon any pretence whatsoever.  
II. That a General Council is above the Pope.  
III. That the Pope's power ought to be limited by Canons, and that he cannot determine or establish any thing contrary to the Ancient Canons and Liberties of the Gallican Church.  
IU. And lastly, that the Pope is not infallible, neither in Fact, nor of Right, unless he preside at the Head of a Universal and Oecumenic Council, which decides and renders the Pope infallible, by authorising that infallibility which otherwise would never be.  
After this the Clergy sent other Deputies to the King, beseeching him to order that this Doctrine should be taught in all Colleges and Universities, and that the Decree might be registered in Parliament, which was granted by an Authentic Declaration of the Kings, importing very severe prohibitions to all Professors, Doctors, Readers in Theology, and Preachers to teach any Doctrine opposite to it, and it was also registered in the Universities.  
There were many worthy ecclesiastics that would not admit of this new Doctrine; who for that reason were imprisoned, banished and despoiled of their Benefices and Estates. So that there were two great persecutions in France at one time; one against the Huguenots, and the other against the Popelings the one against Heretics, the other against the Orthodox. The way to live at liberty, was then to be as a man my say, neither Flesh nor Fish; the rigid Catholics being then equally odious and criminal. Thus was the poor Church oppressed by the Jesuits, the real Tyrants over France; and so much the more cruelly, because she was not permitted the liberty to complain: the Persecutors boasting all this while of the mighty things which they did for her. But what signified all their zeal for the extirpation of Heresy, seeing they set up another Heresy at the same time? Was not this to bind up the Wounds of the Church with one hand, and Stab a Dagger to her Heart with the other?  
The Holy Father, having perused this Determination of the Clergy, was grieved to the Soul, and sent several Briefs to the assembled Clergy, to persuade 'em to recant, of which they took very little or no notice. He also ordered Cardinal Sluza his Secretary, to write in his name to Father la Chaise; which he did in the following Terms.  
FATHER,  
I Writ you these Lines, by the Order of his Holiness, who is highly offended at the audacious and hairbrained Propositions, advanced and upheld in the Assembly of your Clergy upon the 19th. of March last: and in regard he is absolutely persuaded that yourself has as much a hand in 'em, as they themselves who decreed 'em, he exhorts you out of his paternal Charity to acknowledge your Egregious swerving from the Truth, and the Erroneous sins  you commit against God and his Church; by destroying, as you do, to the utmost of your power, the Authority of the visible Head of it upon Earth, whom you are obliged to uphold with the expense of your Blood; first as a Christian and a Catholic, and more particularly, by the fourth and most strict of your Vows, which you have so treacherously broken, you and all your French brethren, who have admitted the Decrees of that Assembly, and loudly teach 'em in your Schools, as the Decrees of an Oecumenic Council. Among you, the Holy Father is no longer the Vicar of Jesus Christ, assisted by his particular Graces and enlightened with Divine Illuminations, but a man of the vulgar sort, subject to all manner of Errors and Failings, to whose decisions there is no credit to be given. What new Doctrine is this? and how is it possible that a Jesuit should be the Author of it? Have you forgot the Thesis' maintained in the College of Clermont, in the Month of Decem. 1661., which upheld that the Pope had the same Infallibility in Fact and Right as Christ himself, and therefore it was a matter of Divine Faith to believe that Jansenius' five Propositions were rightly condemned. Since that time you have strangely changed your note, but I know the reason. Lewis is become Potent, and you expect only from him vast Wealth, high Dignities and Honours. Now speak your Conscience Father, and tell me, do you fear God or no? and that same specious Title which you bear of being a companion of Jesus, does it not sometimes put you in mind of the duty which you own him? If you have forgot it, Father, tremble, and dread his judgements that will fall upon your head. These are the Apostolic exhortations and Admonitions which his Holiness was willing to give you; make use of 'em Father, and do not enforce him to a necessary of acting severely with you. I am, etc.  
Rome August 25. 1632.  
Monsieur Arnault also wrote him the following Letter upon the same Subject.  
Reverend Father,  
I Began to hope something favourably of you, after my having so long suffer● your Persecutions, since you begin to retract so publicly some things which you have acted against me. Formerly I was a Heretic 〈◊〉 for nothing but Fire and Faggot; not because I justified the five condemned Propositions, but because that having read Jansenius from one end to the other, I could not find any such things there: Which was the same thing, said you, as to deny the Papal Infallibility directly in fact, and consequently a Heresy equal to that of Calvin. This is that which you maintained in your Thesis', and which you ordered to be decided against me in the Sorbonne; but now thanks be to the Regale, I am pronounced to be Orthodox, by a solemn decree of all the assembled Clergy, which it cost you as little trouble to obtain as the censure of the Sorbonne. I flatter myself, most Reverend Father, that after this restoring of me to my former abilities, which you yourself have solicited for me, you will no longer be my Enemy, nor of M. de Pompone my Nephew; who both of us suffer in cruel Exilement all the effects of your unjust Malice: You may put an end to 'em when you please, Most Reverend Father, and you will find me always ready to style myself and be, etc.  
Father la Chaise, however was not so taken up with the Affairs of the Regale, but that he had a hand in several other concerns. More especially, that of the Huguenots he made his business, and ever since his being Confessor, he has bend all his endeavours to destroy 'em without mercy. However in this respect, I cannot believe that he was truly moved by the King's interests; for it is visible, that he impoverished the Kingdom, furnished his Enemies with Soldiers, fomented an intestine War; and lastly, raised an obstruction not to be surmounted, to impede the great design of the King upon the liberty of Europe. I should therefore be rather inclined to think, that the Huguenots being without question the most formidable Enemies the Jesuits have, they would fain, at any rate, be rid of these troublesome Overseers, who pry so narrowly into 'em, and never let 'em be at rest, either as to their Morals or their other Irregularities. However it be, this is most certain, that those most unfortunate people are to look upon him as the Author of all their miseries. It was he, who together with the Archbishop of Paris, the Marquis of Louvois, and others of the same Gang, set forth those terrible Declarations that appeared from the year 1679, to 1685, and which were the Preliminaries to their total ruin: for all this ended in that fatal blow which they so much feared, that is to say, the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, which was annulled the 18th of October 1685.  
'Tis true, that lafoy Chaise, two years before, had found a much shorter way to exterminate 'em; and to which, by an Enchantment not to be imagined, he had obtained the King's consent; from whom he had extorted an express Order for the Massacre of all those of that Religion: and thus the thing was to have been put in execution. There was an Order for the marching of four or five Regiments, and dispersing 'em into those places where the Huguenots lived, under pretence of keeping them within the bounds of their duty. After which, Orders for the Massacre were to be sent to all the Bishops, who were to have caused the Soldiers to have been drawn together upon a certain day appointed, which was to have been the same over all parts of France, and after they had made a Speech to 'em, to encourage 'em against Heretics, they were to have signified the King's pleasure to 'em, and at the same time to have delivered the King's Letters sealed with his Signet into their hands. But Monsieur the Prince, who was a man of Honour, and besides, had a greater love for the Soldiers then to suffer 'em to imbrue their hands in so detestable an Action, prevented the execution of that Enterprise.  
I have already set forth, how lafoy Chaise had always opposed him ever since his being made Confessor, and of the League that M. de Louvois and the Father had entered into, to remove him from the public management of Affairs. They had left nothing unattempted during the Life of the Prince, and they beheld with an extraordinary jealousy the Honour which he had acquired in the year 1668, by the Conquest of Franche-Contè, which he subdued in less than two Months.  
During the War of 1672, he had signalised himself at the Battle of Seneff, and the next he performed as much as could be expected from so great a Captain. The King also judged no body so fit to supply the Room of Marshal Turenne, who was slain in Germany. All this extremely perplexed the Confessor, who was afraid of nothing so much, as that the Prince should be again admitted into Favour: From which he had always found the knack to debar him till then. Therefore to prevent it he redoubled his Efforts; and prepossessed the King in such a manner, that after that Campain he never was any more entrusted with any Command. He laid before the King without Intermission, that the Prince being extremely Ambitious, it concerned his Majesty not to put such opportunities into his hands for the aquisition of Glory; nor to permit him by that means to become more considerable in the Kingdom than he was already: that it behoved him to remember the trouble he had put him to during his Minority, when his designs made such a noise that the Queen Mother was constrained to seize his Person; and with what Animosity, from his Enlargement in 1651, to 1659., he had made War against his Majesty, who was forced by Treaty to receive him, though without advancing him to those high Places and Dignities which he had before: that if at that time he thought it good Policy to keep him in a middling Condition, to prevent him from attempting any thing to his prejudice, the same reasons obliged his Majesty to look more narrowly after him: That the Prince's Vexation and Discontents were visible, and that maugre all the care which he took to conceal it, he could not forbear to display his dissatisfactions upon several occasions, by comparing his present condition with what he had been formerly. So that his Majesty had all the reason in the world to be assured, that his Great Heart and his Ambition importuned him without ceasing to extraordinary Attempts; and that all things being well considered, he was the only Prince in a condition to oppose if not to stop the Career of his Majesty's Glorious Designs: that he ought to consider seriously the encumbrances he would meet with, if the Prince should go about to Head the Huguenots of his Kingdom, and at the same time make an Alliance with Holland: that would not only be able to stop his Progress, but also to introduce the Enemy into the Heart of his Kingdom; and then the least mischief that could befall him would be to make an ignominious Peace, and restore the Huguenots their Ancient Privileges.  
All these Reasons being urged by la Chaise, and seconded by Louvois, made the King resolve to confer no more Employments upon the Prince, who on the other side perceiving the suspicions which the Court had of him, and how he was looked upon with an evil Eye, retired to his Palace of Chantilli, where he was in hopes to live and die quietly, without pretending any more to public business. But it was ordained that his Generosity and his great Heart should always be the cause of his misfortune. For about the end of the year 1683, being informed by M. Montauzier of a Cruel Order which la Chaise had obtained of the King, and which he was preparing to put in execution, he could not endure such Barbarities without declaring his Mind. Thereupon he went to the Court, and throwing himself at the King's Fleet, laid before him how great a stain such a foul Action would be to his Honour: that he himself had several times obliged himself by promise never to make use of Violent Courses and sanguinary Ways; but though he had never engaged his Royal Word, yet that the Interest of his Honour and his Fame were sufficient to divert him from so black an Eterprize, and so misbecoming a most Christian King as that was; that there were other ways for his Majesty to reduce the Protestants: that they were already in so low a condition, that they were not able to make Head against him: and if the worst came to the worst, he might banish 'em out of his Kingdom.  
These Remonstrances of the Prince wrought so effectually upon the King, that he revoked his Order, and la Chaise was disappointed.  
But his Animosity upon this redoubling, he made use of this occasion to let the King understand, that the reason why the Prince of Conde opposed with so much heat the destruction of the Huguenots, was only because it would utterly ruin those designs, which he was meditating to put into their Heads: and the Cunning Priest made use of several kindnesses which afterwards the Prince desired in favour of the Huguenots, to render him odious to the King, and cast him absolutely but of his Favour; wherein he succeeded but too well; it being certain that after that, the King could hardly endure to see him.  
1686. At length this Great Prince died the 16th of December 1686, at Fontain Bleau, whither he went to see his Grandaughter, the Duchess of Bourbon, who lay sick of the Small Pox; and many People were of Opinion that the Jesuits did not a little contribute to hasten his Death.  
He wrote a very Pathetic Letter to the King, wherein he expressed his sorrow for having born Arms against his Majesty, protesting withal, that since his return, he had never had any other than Sentiments of Respect and Affection for his Person, and Fidelity to his Service, whatever suspicions had been infused into him to the contrary: as in regard he had been in part the cause of the Prince of Conti's misfortune, he begged his pardon with an extraordinary submission in that Letter, assuring the King, that the Prince was as good and faithful a Subject as his Majesty could wish or desire; adding withal that Father la Chaisè knew well what he said to be truth, if he would vouchsafe to testify the Truth.  
Cardinal Camus also had incurred the Confessors displeasure, much upon the same account, and for the same Reason as the Prince. He wrote to the King a Letter wherein he laid it before him, that it was neither for his Honour, nor did it become his Justice to use violent means; that for his part he could not approve of 'em, and therefore besought his Majesty, not to take it amiss, if within his own Diocese, he qualified and softened such boisterous proceed as much as lay in his Power. At which the King being provoked, wrote a threatening Letter to the Intendant of the Diocese, against the Cardinal, with orders to show it him. There upon the Cardinal wrote to the Intendant that Famous Letter, wherein he proves, that Rigorous and Bloody means are not to be made use of to reduce People to the Religion they have forsaken, and that there is no other way to deal with the Conscience but by persuasion.  
Our Jesuit therefore, who is a sworn Enemy to all those who concur not blindly with his designs, incensed the King against him withal his might, and obtained a Warrant also to send him to the Bastile, which was revoked soon after, at the intercession of the Duke of Montauzier. However afterwards this worthy Prelate was haunted with a thousand vexations, though the only person that we have in France that lives a life so exemplary and so like a true Bishop.  
He was formerly a Courtier and one that had very far engaged himself in vanity and a luxurious Life; but at length retiring from the world, leading a very Virtuous and Pious Life, the King made him Bishop of Grenoble. For which when he went to return thanks to his Majesty, he took his leave of him for all his Life after: where upon the King demanding the Reason why he bid him so long a farewell, he answered that residence was of Divine Right, and that he thought himself obliged to reside in his Diocese, as he had resolved to do, till death.  
After he came to be a Bishop, he lived altogether upon Pulse, and gave himself entirely up to all the care & Functions of a Charitable Pastor, Preaching himself to his people, visiting the Poor, the Widows and the Orphans whom he always relieved to the utmost of his power: Such eminent Virtues and so rate a Piety, produced him the Cardinal's Cap, and the particular affection of Innocent XI. And this was that which rendered la Chaise so irreconcilable to him, that he could not expect from him for the future any other than the utmost of mischief that he could do him.  
'Tis impossible to speak of all things at once; so that I had like to have omitted one of the blackest Circumstances of la Chaise's Life, which was very injurious to Christendom; and therefore I must be forced to run backward for some years.  
All the world knows, how the King fell upon Strasburgh, by means of the Correspondence which he held with the new Burgomasters, under pretence that that City was the Capital City of Alsatia, and belonged to him as a Dependence of that Province which was surrendered to him by the Peace of Munster. The Emperor and all the Princes of Germany highly complained of this Breach, which together with the Blocking up of Luxemburgh, and detaining the Castle of Dinant, which was to have been restored to the Prince of Liege, were causes more than sufficient to renew the War, with which they threatened him in Conjunction with Spain. Expedients were proposed in Council to prevent all this, and it was de Louvois' advice, to make an Alliance with the Turk, the Truce between whom and the Emperor was ready to expire, and who would be able to make a Powerful Diversion with never so little Assistance. With all, that it was necessary to engage the K. of Poland in the same League, who had been beholding to France for his Crown; to which purpose he should be tempted with the Conquest of Silesu that lay so convenient for him. M. de Boncherat and M. Montausier were of a Contrary Opinion, and laid before his Majesty that besides the stain it would be to his Honour, it would be to call in an Enemy that would not be so easy to be driven out again, whereas it was easy to dissipate this appearance of a League by raising the Blockade of Luxemburgh, and letting his pretensions to the County of Alost sleep a while. Which would suffice without doubt to oblige those Princes patiently to suffer the taking of Strasburgh. But the Marquis of Louvois still insisted that an Alliance with the Turk was the only way to keep all the Princes of Germany in in awe, who would be glad that his Majesty would grant 'em Peace, which he might or might not do as he saw his Advantages. But that he had great probability of a much better Progress; it being certain that if the Turks got the upper hand, and that the King of Poland acted his part, the Princes of the Empire would of their own accord be forced to call his Majesty to their assistance, and perhaps would be easily persuaded to declare him Emperor, or at least, the Crown of the King of the Romans could not fail the Dauphin.  
Upon this there was at that time nothing concluded; the King delaying the matter, till he had consulted his Council of Conscience, or rather his Confessor, with whom he is infatuated; for he hearkens to him as an Oracle▪ The Father assured him that he might not only do it with a safe Conscience, b●● promised to set so many Engines at work that the thing should be successfully brought about. And indeed it was by his instigation that the Jesuits of Vienna persuaded the Emperor to torment the Protestants of Hungary more than ever, that so they might be provoked to revolt; and furnished Court Tekeli with means to support himself; who unless that Persecution had been redoubled, would have run the hazard of being abandoned by his own Party. He was also supplied from France with what money he wanted. And Father lafoy Chaise it was that recommended to the K. the person, who was most of all employed by him in that Negotiation; one Rovurai of Normandy, a new Catholic, and alured with a good Pension. He was a Man of Wit, and bold even to daringness. And as he had occasion several times to pass to and fro through Vienna, he performed the Office of a Spy, to observe what past in that Court, not at all terrified with the accident at that time newly befallen the Secretary of M. Seppeville the French Agent. That Secretary was another Spy, who conveyed many a French Letter to Count Tekeli, and gave an account to both Parties of what passed in Vienna, by the assistance of one Bohan, a French Officer in the Service of the Count, and who for a long time drove the same trade with Rovurai. But the Secretary was surpized in this dangerous Calling, and put in Prison, from whence he had never got out again safe and sound, had not the King, so soon as he heard of it, seized upon Count Mansfield the Emperor's Ambassador at Paris, by way of Reprisal. When this Secretary was taken, there was found in his Pocket a Letter which lafoy Chaise had written to Rovurai, and which was seen by all that were then at the Court of Vienna, of which that which follows is a Copy.  
SIR,  
I Have spoken to the King very earnestly about what you wrote in your last, that Count Tekeli wants Money for the payment of his Men; and moreover that he desires to be well supported from Turkey, without which he cannot long subsist. As to the first, you may assure his Excellency, that the difficulty of finding a way to return the Money has been the only reason that the King's Promises have been hitherto delayed. But I spoke to an Armenian about two days since, who has promised to pay him a hundred thousand Livres in two Months, and M. Colbert has orders the said sum to be paid him within a Week▪  
As to the other point; the King's Ambassador at the Port, makes us believe 'twill not be long now before he comes to a conclusion. He has wrote to his Majesty, that there only are wanting two Millions of ready Money, three thousand Muskets, and a duty of five per Cent. upon all Merchandise that shall be Exported or Imported under French Colours. Which are obstruction which will not be insisted upon. As to what remains, his Excellency may be sure of all the Service that M. de Nointel can do him, who has the King's order for so doing; and besides that, was an intimate friend of Count Tekeli's Father deceased, and Count Serini: this he told me positively in one of his Letters.  
I have also thus much more good Ne●● to tell you, that the King of Poland he required time to give an Answer to wh●● the Marquis of Vitry proposed to hi● in his Majesty's Name; but that the Queen told him in private, that when the King her Husband came to his ultimate determinations, whether in favour of the Emperor or the King of France, he should always be mindful of his Obligations to our great Monarch.  
You may impart to Count Tekeli what I have wrote to you, and present him my humble Respects.  
This Letter discovered some part of the Father's Plots and underhand Practices, and though he stiffly denied that ever he wrote it, which he might the more easily do, because it was not signed, nevertheless the Secretary imprudently confessed that it came from him. His importunities in Poland were also understood; and the knowledge of 'em contributed not a little to prevent the Effect. For M. Zierowsky the Emperor's Ambassador at that Court, so lively represented to the King the injury it would be to his Honour and his Interest, to assist the Conquests of the Infidels in Christendom, which would indeed be no more than a preparing of Shackles for himself (since it was very evident the most dangerous Neighbour he had in the World was the Turk) that he entered into a strict Alliance with his Imperial Majesty. He also harkened to the complaints of M. Zierowsky against the Sieur Vernay Baucault, calling himself extraordinary Ambassador at the Court of Poland, and against several others who held intelligence with Tekeli, and the Malcontents, and fomented the Rebellion in Hungary; so that Vernay was Expelled out of Poland, after the Emperor's Ambassador had showed the King and the Senate his Letters written to Count Tekeli, and Fagel Governor of Cassovia, with their Answers, which were intercepted by the Castellane of Presmslia.  
In the Mean time the Infidels having forced the Pass of Raab, which they never stayed to besiege no more than they did Comorra, advanced with a formidable Army as far a Vienna; which they besieged, and struck terror into all the Countries round about. At the same time also, the King of France, who was very much tempted to lay hold upon the occasion, brought four Armies into the Field, one in Flanders, another in Alsatia, a third upon the Saone, and another upon the Saonr, Which alarmed no less this part of Europe, than the Ottamons did the other. And certainly these were no frivolous fears, for to speak the Truth, the King had laid aside all Scruples, and had made a most terrible Invasion, if la Chaise had not stopped him. And this was the only time that his Councils were favourable to Europe. But we own him no thanks for this Obligation; for if he had thought he had done well, he would never have done it.  
He advised the King not to enter by force of Arms into a Country which he might subdue when he pleased by bare persuasion. That all the Princes of the Empire were generally in such a Consternation, that if he did but send any person of Wit and Reputation to act among 'em, 'twas certain they would call him in themselves of their own accord, and that he might reckon himself sure of the Elector of Cologne, who without question possessed the fairest Countries upon the Rhine: And as for the rest, it would be no hard matter to gain 'em. But Sir, said he, should not this way succeed, your Majesty will be always in a Condition to make use of your Power. The King believed him and recalled his Armies. Presently the Furstembergs were written to, in order to this Affair, who failed not to do their utmost; more especially William Bishop of Strasburgh, a Creature so devoted to the King, that he had not a person in all his Kingdom so much his purchased Slave as he. A person who will afford us ample matter of discourse in the following Sheets, and therefore it will not be amiss that the Reader should have a little taste of his character before hand.  
He is a Germane by Birth of a Noble and Ancient Family which has done the Emperor's great Services at several different times, for which they have received considerable advantages, and were advanced to the Highest Dignities in the Empire. The Emperor now Reigning raised this very Person to be a Prince of the Empire in his Youth, and besides that, bestowed upon him and his Brothers several fair Fiefs of the Empire, as well in the Circles of Austria, as elsewhere. But the Accumulation of so many Favours could not make him ere the more Grateful to his Benefactors; he quitted his Party, and went into France, where the King, who had his desire, received him very nobly, gave him a Pension of six thousand Crowns a Year, and made him Colonel of a Regiment which he commanded several Years. All this while his Brother was in the Service of the Elector of Cologne, whose Prime Minister he was, and whom Prince William gained over to the King in such a manner, that while he lived, he was no ill wisher to his side.  
The War of 72, being broke out, they began to talk of Peace as soon as it was begun, and the next Year there was a Congress at Cologne of Plenipotentiaries from all the Princes of Europe. Prince William was nominated for the Elector of Cologne, but the Imperialists would not acknowledge him; and which was worse, he was seized and carried to Vienna as a Rebel to his Prince, and guilty of High Treason against him. This manner of proceeding, which the King pretended was against the Law of Nations, put an end to all the Negotiations, and broke up the Assembly.  
Tho the Court of France were very much afraid lest the Prince of Furstenburgh would have been very severely proceeded against, whether it were that the Emperor feared thereby to render the King irreconcilable, or that he thought he had a pledge in his hands that would facilitate a Peace when he pleased himself I shall not dispute; but however it were, he only kept him Prisoner. When the War was at an end, he was released, and the King observing that as great a Bustler and as much a Boutefeu as he was, he was no Soldier, caused him to exchange his Sword for a Breviary, and made him Bishop of Strasburgh. Nor did his kindness for him bound itself there, for he nominated him to a Cardinalship, and put the Bonnet himself upon his Head in Jan. 87, and the next year caused him to be elected Coadjutor to the Archbishop of Cologne, which was done the 7th of Jan. by eight a Clock in the Morning.  
But to return to the matter in hand, he was employed during the Conjuncture of the Siege of Vienna, to persuade the Princes of the Empire to have recourse to the King; but his employing a suspected person was not the way to succeed: he was too well known, and it was enough for a proposition to come from him, to render it suspicious. So that all his jaunting to and fro signified nothing, but only to give the King of Poland leisure to join the Duke of Lorraine, and Relieve Vienna, into which they entered triumphant after the defeat of the Infidels, of whom they made a most terrible Slaughter, and put the rest to the most dreadful Flight that ever was known. This Glorious Victory revived the Courage of the drooping Empire, and every body coming again to themselves, considered which way to make their best advantage of it. So that Heaven continuing the blessing of success upon the Christian Arms, they prospered to their own Wishes.  
The King, having beheld this Great Deliverance, altered his Sentiments, but not enduring to let his Neighbours be at rest, he teiz●d the Spaniards about the County of Alost, considerable for the Extent and Revenue of it, which he claimed as a Dependence upon his Conquests; and upon the King of Spain's refusing it, he Besieged Luxenburgh, and took it in lieu of an Equivalent. All people thought that then the War would have broke out again more furiously than ever. But the weakness of the Emperor's Forces, and the Emperors desire to prosecute his Victories in Hungary, were the reason that all their differences were put an end to, and laid a sleep by a General Truce concluded in the Year 1685.  
While these things thus passed on, Charles the II. King of England died, and left the Crown to his Brother the Duke of York, who tho generally ill beloved by the People and a declared Roman Catholic was nevertheless proclaimed without any Opposition. So happy a Success, and perhaps so little expected, spread an Universal joy among all the Jesuits, who promised themselves no less than the entire reducing that Kingdom under their Dominion, in three or four Years at most: and they had already devoured in imagination all the Noble Bishoprics and Considerable Benefices in the Realm: nor indeed were their hopes so Chimerical, but that they might have reason to have some assurance of it: they were absolutely Masters of the new King's Heart and Soul, who was wholly governed by them; as being to speak properly, no more than their Prime Minister of State in his own Kingdom. Besides, they were protected by France, extremely Potent, and near at hand to pour in thirty thousand men into England when ever he pleased. 'Tis true this could not have been done without a prejudice to the King, whose Authority would have been not a little diminished thereby; but what cared they, provided they had got their ends.  
Now as the whole company in general had great reason to be over joyed at such a promising Event, Father lafoy Chaise, in particular had more engaging motives of Exultation and Triumph. The deceased King Charles had willingly listened to his Councils, and had done several things in complacence to his advice; but at the bottom he was a prudent Prince, and one who, otherwise loving his Pleasures and his Ease, did not always do that which was desired of him; nor was he of a humour to hazard the whole for nothing, like his Brother, who not having all the foresight imaginable, but persuading himself, in imitation of Lewis the Great, that there needed no more for him to do but to attempt and Prosper, blindly and erroneously delivered himself up to Evil Counsels. Upon which Foundation lafoy Chaise erected his project to set all Europe in a Conflagration of War, the most violent that ere was known, and hugged himself in his design, which he looked upon then as infallible.  
Some prosperous successes, as the defeat of the Duke of Monmouth and his Death, rendered K. James so vain, that he never thought England able to withstand him. So that from that time forward, he began hardly to observe any Measures; wherefore in a short time, the Kingdom was full of Monks of all Orders, and particularly Jesuits, who were become such favourites at Court, that there was nothing to be there obtained but by application made to them. And upon theirs and Father Peters ●s recommendation it was, that Tyrconnel was made Deputy of Ireland, where he committed extremities of Cruelty against the Protestants, of whom he put a great number to Death.  
This Tyrconnel was an Irishman by Birth, and low in Fortune; he came young into England, where he served as a kind of Page for above ten Years at the end of which time, he met with a Catholic who preferred him to the Duke of York, in the quality of a better sort of Gentle man. This was the Rise of his Fortune. But to return to King James.  
He received a Nuncio from the Pope into London; which had not been known for above an Age before: this was the Abbot Dada, since made a Cardinal. Some few days after his arrival he was consecrated Bishop of Amasia in St. James' Chapel, by the titular Archbishop of Armagh, and two other Bishops; and in the Afternoon coming to pay his Respects to their Majesties, they fell upon their Knees before him, to receive his Benediction. Hitherto the Nuncio had only appeared incognito; which not satisfying the King, who pretended to do nothing in Hugger Mugger, he resolved that he should make his public Entry, and chose Windsor for the Place. To this purpose, he ordered the Duke of Somerset first Gentleman of his Chamber to go the next day to wait upon the Prelate at his Lodgings, and conduct him to his Audience. The Duke would fain have shifted off the Employment, by telling the King, that it was absolutely contrary to all the Acts of Parliament that had been made upon that Subject: but then the King casting an Angry look upon him, Do, said he, as you are commanded, I ask not your Advice. Nevertheless, the Duke continued his Excuses, declaring to the King that there were several others who would obey his Orders with less Reluctancy, and therefore besought his Majesty to lay his Commands upon them, rather than upon him; Very Good, replied the King, I shall do it, but it shall cost you your Employment of First Gentleman; and so turning to the Duke of Grafton who was then in the Chamber. Duke of Grafton, said he, go to morrow and fetch Monsieur the Nuncio in my own Coaches of State, and be you henceforward first Gentleman instead of the Duke of Somerset. Nor did the King's Wrath against the Duke of Somerset end there; he took from him his Regiment of Dragoons, and cast him quite out of his Favour. The next day the Nuncio made his Entrance, in the view of all the People, in a Violet Habit, his Rochet and 
* Habit of a Purple Colour, resembling a Captain's Gorget, worn by a Pontifical Bishop above his Rochet, and reaching down to the bending of his Arms.  Camail.  
All this was done at the instigation of Father Peter, who was something more in England, then lafoy Chaise was in France. And this latter seeing to his great satisfaction King James' weak side, is reference to Peter's, resolved to make him serviceable to advance his own Grandeur. That ambitious Jesuit lafoy Chaise had been a long time aspiring to a Cardinal's Cap; but in regard that since the Pontificate of Innocent XI. the Holy See had never had a more implacable Enemy than himself, he justly questioned whether the Pope would grant that favour to the K. of France, though he should demand it, unless some other should levelly the way beforehand, and that upon his Holiness' having granted the same Honour to some other of his Character, he might claim a Privilege to pretend to it. Not that he hoped to attain his Ends while the Reigning Pope lived, who had no kindness at all for him, but after his Death.  
Therefore he put it into the King of England's Head to demand the Purple for his own Confessor, and at the same time to make him a Bishop, giving him to understand, that it would be the easiest thing in the world to obtain it, and that the Pope would be glad of the opportunity to oblige him. But it fell out quite otherwise: for when the Earl of Castlemain was about to have propounded it to the Pope, he imposed silence upon him with a Benediction; which in the Vatican is a Language that all men understand. And as for the Dispensations which he demanded for the Archbishopric of York, to which Peter was promoted, the Pope returned for answer, that the Jesuits, having by their institutions renounced all manner of Ecclesiastical Dignities, they could not so much as think of those things without a Crime, in regard it is a very heinous Crime for a Religious person to violate the Constitutions of his Order. 'Twas in vain for the Ambassador to tell him a Story, that the Rules of their Order did not bind 'em so indissolubly but that they might have a Dispensation when the good of the Church required it: that his Predecessors had made no scruple to advance several Jesuits to the Episcopacy, and some to the Purple: besides that, these Institutions had now no more the same force then formerly, as consisting only in the free will of the Pope: in regard that Paul and Julius the Third, had permitted by express Bulls, that the form of 'em might be altered in one or more Cases, according to the nature of the business. But the Pope remained in exorable for all these plausible reasons, and Castlemain was forced to desist his solicitations. The greatest vexation for the miscarriage of this Affair was la Chaises, who had blinked a long time upon the Archbishopric of Lion, as a Benefice to which he had a kind of claim to supply the defect of the Red Cap. For as to what concerned Father Peter's, the King found a way to comfort him for the loss of what he never had, by appointing him his Grand Almoner, and by making his Kinsman the Lord Peter's Lord Lieutenant of Essex.  
Father lafoy Chaise no longer questioning that there was any favour to be expected from the Holy See, laid aside all reservedness, and harkening only to his Revenge, spurred on the King to all those extremities that afterwards broke forth. The Bull which the Pope in a little time after thundered out, to abolish the privileges of Ambassadors Quarters, importing Excommunication, ipso facto, against all those that should go about to uphold 'em directly or indirectly, served him for a good occasion. And though the King of Spain and the Queen of Sweden submitted voluntarily to it, yet the Confessor gave the King to understand that it was a diminution of his Honour to follow their example, and that the Franchises being a Prerogative belonging to his Crown, established in Rome, not by a bare Connivance of the Popes, as they might perhaps in respect of other Princes, but by Custom and special Privilege, of which he had been in Possession ever since Charlemagne, and lately acknowledged by the Treaty of Pisa, he was not to give an Inch of Ground upon that point.  
'Tis no difficult thing to persuade Princes to those things which they deem for their advantage; more especially, when they have the Power in their own hands. The King was convinced the very first time, that the Father spoke nothing but reason, and finding him so well skilled in a matter that he had studied, he gave him order to draw up Instructions himself for the Marquis of Lavardin, whom he had made choice of for his Ambassador, in the room of the Duke d' Estrees, and to discourse him particularly upon the Subject, that he might not be ignorant of the least Circumstance. So that it was the Confessors spirit that animated and enlivened the Marquis, and by which he acted altogether after that.  
The Pope who was faithfully advertised by Cardinal Ranunci, his Nuncio at Paris, of all these Proceed; and to whom the King himself had refused Audience, because he would have delivered him the Bull revocatory, offered Cardinal d' Etree, that if he would submit to the Bull which he had set forth, which was a very just one, and which he could not revoke without extreme detriment to the Church, that the Sbirri or Officers of Justice, should forbear making any Assaults upon the Quarters, and that nothing should be done to the prejudice of the King's interest. The Cardinal who found himself at a loss in this Negotiation, approved the Expedient, and advised the K. to it in a Letter, which being imparted to Father la Chaise, he opposed it, and said that the Bull being an abuse, there was a necessity of Appealing and referring the matter to the Parliament. Which the Pope understanding, wrote to him very smartly, complaining, that since he was become his Confessor, instead of persuading the King to sentiments of Piety and Goodness, he had always incensed him against the Holy See, as in the business of the Regale, and now upon this occasion, where the most just Rights of the Church were concerned, which he incited his Majesty to violate; and which would be attended with very evil Consequences, which would all light heavy upon him, and for which he must answer before God.  
The Resolutions of the Holy Father to uphold his Pious design, put a stop for some Months to Lavardins departure. But at length he setforward in November 87. and made his public Entry in despite of the Pope, who would not acknowledge him for an Ambassador. It was also debated in Council, whether they should shut the Gates of Rome against him. But the Plurality of voices not being for carrying things to that extremity, the Pope thought it sufficient to forbid the Cardinals and all the Princes and Lords to send their Coaches to meet him; he also forbidden the discharging of any Great Guns, and all other public marks of rejoicing. But for all these Inhibitions there were above a hundred Foreigners Coaches, besides those of the several Ambassadors. The Cardinals d' Estree, and Maldachi●, went also in Person to meet Lavardin, three Miles from Rome, and went into the same Coach with him. They accompanied him likewise to the Vatican, where the Ambassador having demanded Audience, it was refused him; after which he went to the Palace of the Farnesis. He was attended by three hundred French Gentlemen, who stayed in Rome, as long as he did; not reckoning in a considerable number of the Officers of the Galleys, who arrived in a short time after; and I know not how many Lords that resorted to him from all parts of Italy. More than this he kept five hundred Men in Pay, to whom he gave a Julio a day, and these Soldiers guarded his Palace a Foot and a Horseback, and went the Patroll every Night in his Quarter.  
Upon the day of his Entrance, the Pope caused the Bull which he had set forth before against the Franchises, to be fixed up a new, forbidding all People to acknowledge Lavardin for Ambassador; who had no sooner notice of it, but in opposition and to be even with the pope he caused Placarts to be pasted up in all the Corners of the Streets, forbidding the Sbirri to presume to approach within five hundred Paces of his Quarter, threatening to put all to the Sword that should be met within that compass. The next day he sent again to demand Audience of the Pope, who returned him for answer by Cardinal Colo●●● That it was a vanity for him to demand Audience as Ambassador from the Most Christian King; that he never would acknowledge him under that Character; so far from that, that if he continud to act with the same rashness and indiscretion, he should look upon him as no other than an Enemy of Jesus Christ and his Vicar upon Earth; whom he was come to Affront and Persecute even in the Sacred Chair, and that he should find a way to tame his audaciousness and his impiety, by those Ar●● which God had put into his hands, i● he did not prevent him by a filial an● Christian Submission.  
But Lavardin laughed at all these threats and within an hour after dispatched away a Courier to the King his Master to give him an account of all these passages. He also wrote to Father la Chaise observing to him all along what ha● been said to him by Cardinal Colo●●● To which the Father answered him wit● a Congratulation for having so punctually acquitted himself in the discharge o● his duty, and exhorting him to continue steadfast, without fearing the Arms of his Holiness, which could do him no harm, In regard that the King having given him his Letters of Credence, had invested him with a Cuirace proof against all the Cuts and Slashes of Apostolical Weapons. A noble Sentence and becoming the Author of it.  
In the mean time, when the Queen of Sweden, and the Marquis of Cogolludo, the Spanish Ambassador saw, that Lavardin made good the Right of the Franchises by dint of ample Authority, they began to repent of their having so easily submitted, and represented to his Holiness that so long as they believed that the French would have surrendered to his Paternal Remonstrances, they were willing to contribute toward an accommodation, and to be the first that should quit their Rights of Sovereigns, to the end the Most Christian King might have no pretence to allege from their Example; but since it was visible by the proceeding of his Ambassador, that he would not abate the least Tittle of his Claim, they besought his Holiness to give way that they might resume their Rights, since it was not to be thought that the King of France had any Privilege above them; protesting that they would ever be ready to give his Holiness any satisfaction, when ever they sa● France willing to comply.  
Things stood at this stay, till the ne● month; at what time, Lavardin going one Christmas night to perform his Devotions at St. Lewis' Church, the Pope looked upon that action as a new affro● to his Bull, by which he had Excommunicated all those who abetted the Privilege of the Franchises; so that the ne● day there appeared a Brief of Excommunication fixed upon the Church of Saint Lewis, under the name of the Cardinal Vicar. Which, because it is very short I shall here insert.  
By virtue of the Apostolical Authority, and by the special Command 〈◊〉 our most Holy Lord, the Pope, 〈◊〉 pronounce, that the Parish Church o● St. Lewis is subjected to Ecclesiastical Interdiction, because the Rector, th● Official and the Ministers of the sai● Church have presumed upon the la● night of the Nativity of our Lord, to admit to Divine Offices, and the Participation of the Sacrament Henry de Be●manoir, Marquis of Lavardin, who 〈◊〉 notoriously Excommunicated. Given at Rome, in our Palace, December 26. 1687. The Cardinal Vicar.  
And below the Brief was written,  
The present Sentence is forbid to be pulled down under the Penalty of Excommunication, reserved to our Holy lord De Rubris, Notary.  
The Marquis of Lavardin on the other side, delayed no longer than the next day, before he published a large Protestation against the said Brief; wherein after he had mustered together a great number of reasons to prove that the Pope did very much amiss to proceed in that manner, and that the Franchises of Rome were a Right that belonged to the King not to becontested or controul●d, he concluded his Protestation with these words, that without summing up so many reasons as had already been alleged against the Bull, in Caena domini, against which the whole Assembled Gallican Church had always exclaimed, as being of no efficacy in respect of France, and published by a Pope that had declared himself a Capital Enemy of that Crown, without entering, said he, either into those reasons, or such as might be objected against the other Bulls, that served for a foundation for that which is now pretended to be set forth by his Holiness, which ca● never be published in the Kingdom for the reasons before receited, 'tis sufficient to say that he the said of Marquis Lavardin is the Most Christian Kings Ambassador, and by consequence exempted from all Ecclesiastical Censures, so long as he is invested with that Character, and that he will execute the Orders of the King his Master.  
Therefore the said of Marquis Lavardin deems it not necessary to appeal from this pretended Excommunication, not well examined by his Holiness, when he shall be disabused, s● soon as he shall grant an Audience for the removing those false impressions, that restless and turbulent people, the Enemies of France have imprinted in his mind, such as labour to break off the good intelligence between the Holy Father and his Majesty. He believes it also needless to appeal to a future Lawful Council; nevertheless at present, as much as is or shall be requisite, he protests the Nullity of all that is done or shall be done for the future; declaring that if any one of any Quality whatever fails of that respect and due regard which ought to be paid to his Character, he shall be responsible before God and Man for all the mischiefs he may draw upon himself, through the offence committed against his Majesty, in violating the Law of Nations, in the Person of his Ambassadors. Given at Rome, December 27. 1687.  
Lavardin, sent a Copy of this Protestation to the King, who approv●d it, and ordered M. Harlay, the Proctor General in the Parliament at Paris to put in an Appeal to a future Council in reference to what the Pope had acted; and this was done Jan. 22. 1688. But this Appeal, how injurious soever it were to the Holy See, was nothing in comparison of the Decree that was given ou● the next day, and the famous Plea that accompanied it, to which I refer the Reader, being too long to be here inserted, though it were a piece that was hammered in la Chaises Shop, to whom the King gave order to consult the drawing it up with M. Talon, under whose name it appeared. 'tis true that Talon drew up the first draught of it, and showed it to the King, but Father la Chase who was present and read it to his Majesty, told him that the Writing was excellently well penned, but that it was not smart enough, neither did it sufficiently set forth his Majesty's causes of complaint against the Pope; and that it was of great Importance to show to all the World and to Posterity, the Partialy and Passion of the Holy Father upon that occasion. Thereupon the King bid 'em meet both together in the afternoon, and to add or alter what they thought proper. This order very much displeased M. Talon, who could not digest it, that a Priest should be put upon him to teach him his Trade; and two days after he testified his resentment to Villeroy, to whom he said in express terms, that though every body should meddle with his Trade, the Cows would be never a whit the better kept for all that.  
However, he obeyed without saying a word, and all that day they laboured about that famous declamation which has made such a noise, and which is only stuffed with threats of a National Council, which would empower the Bishops to Consecrate one another, if the Pope refused to do it, and to Excommunicate his Holiness himself, if he went about to thunder out his Excommunications. Si Excommunicatus veniret, Excommuicatus abiret.  
There was nothing discoursed of, but Passion, desire of Domineering, Usurpations of the Court of Rome. The Holy Father was contemned and slighted, as a man of a weak and shallow Pate, not able to bear the burden of Affairs, and sometimes they called him declared favorour and Protector of the Quietists and Jansenists. In short they Cursed and Anathamatized him in express terms. A Curse and Anathema, says the Writing, on all those, who either through Interest or Capricio trouble the correspondency that is to be between the Priesthood and the Royalty, who seem to have no other Prospect but to raise Schism in the Church, and with fatal Divisions to disturb the Peace of all Europe, which has been procured by the Wisdom of our Invincible Monarch.  
That which was more to be wondered at was, that Lavardin caused both the Plea and the Decree to be fixed upon the Doors of the Vatican. The Pope surprised at such an act of daring presumption as that, forbidden all the Churches to admit the Priests who had officiated in the Parish of St. Lewis: And one poor Almoner, belonging to the Ambassador, having taken a walk imprudently toward the Vatican, was seized upon and clapped into the Inquisition, for having audaciously adventured to say Mass in the Ambassadors Chapel. In the mean time, in France, the King ordered the Bishops to send for the Superiors of the Convents, in their Dioceses, and to forbid 'em under rigorous Penalties to suffer any one of their Monks to write or teach any thing contrary to the Rights of his Majesty, or the differences between him and the Pope. The Archbishop of Paris among the Rest, zealous as he always uses to be, for the King's Interest, put this Order exactly in execution. He chose to that purpose for his Official one Cheron, a man learned and fit for business, whom he sent to all the Conventual Houses, to let 'em know the King's intentions. And indeed the Generality of the ecclesiastics, as well Monks as others, surrendered themselves, to that blind obedience that was expected. Only some three or four Doctors of the Sorbonne, and some Capuchins and Dominicans took the Pope's part: but they were reduced to reason by a Privy Signet Letter, that sent 'em to make a noise above a hunder●d Leagues off: upon which all the rest laid their Fingers upon their Mouths.  
The Pope, informed of all this, would not make use of his Ecclesiastical Thunders, for fear of exposing 'em to the derision of a Prince that little regarded 'em; but rather desiring to find out some expedient for an accommodation, he ordered Cardinal de Estree to be acquainted, that he would willingly hearken to him, in reference to the Differences which he had with the Most Christian King.  
The Cardinal answered the Pope, that he was infinitely obliged to his Holiness for his particular goodness toward him, and that he was at his wits end to see that he could not corresponed with it, the King his Master having tied up his hands in this Affair, and forbidden him to meddle with it so long as his Ambassador was at Rome.  
An answer so dry and sapless, did not however extinguish his holiness's desire to contribute all that lay in his power toward an Amicable conclusion of this Contest, and touched with the misfortunes which his Excommunication would bring upon Christendom, through the King of Frances obstinacy, which he had made appear by so many public Acts, he resolved to take it off. By this means St. Lewis' Church became f●ee to all the world, and as well Italians as French resorted to it. This manner of procedure was looked upon as a great Weakness in the Holy Father, and a most inexcusable want of Courage, after such a Stiffness as the Pope had showed: but if we rightly consider things, we shall find that the Pope never did a more prudent Act, nor more charitable, or more becoming the Vicar of Christ. He knew those spiritual Weapons, so terrible to all the truly faithful, were not put into his hands but only to reduce under obedience such as obstinately strayed from the Truth; and to prevent others through a holy fear from following their Example. For these reasons therefore he thought it behoved him to make use of 'em upon this occasion, piously persuaded, that Corruption and Error were not got up to that high degree in France, as to be in sensible of such Celestial Chastisements. But when he saw they had not that success which he expected, rather quite the Contrary, that his proceeding in that manner, how just so ever it were, had exasperated the minds of men against him; that all the Clergy was ready to revolt, and that he had all the reason in the world to be afraid of a Schism in the Church, he relented on a sudden, to stop the Torrent of Perdition. He never consulted Flesh or Blood, but without any regard to what all the World could say of him upon such a Relaxation, he thought it his duty to sacrifice a vain point of Honour to the Glory of God.  
During these Transactions the Elector of Cologne died, leaving three fair Episcopal Principalities vacant, and several pretenders to 'em. The Cardinal of Furstenburgh was one of the first that appeared upon the Stage. He was already Coadjutor in the chiefest of these Principalities, but he had not been confirmed by the Pope; and so all things were to begin again. And indeed 'twas he who lost the most by the quarrels between France and Rome.  
For the Pope who perfectly well knew which way that Prelate was devoted, never minded the doing any thing for him at such a time as that. So that the Cardinal, who was not ignorant of his condition, wrote several times to Father la Chaise, and endeavoured to make him sensible that the Affair of the Franchises could not be of that importance to the K. as a concern, which indeed was the concern of all the Lower Rhine, and of something more than that; and therefore that it would be convenient to release it to the Pope, at least for some time till the King might be more at leisure to reassume his Challenges. The same things were likewise several times represented to the King by Prince Ferdinand of Furstenburgh; and certain it is, that the King had given way, if la Chaise, who mortally hated the Pope, out of a desire of revenge, had not diverted him, telling him, that he might if he pleased himself procure the Election of Cardinal Furstenburgh, without having recourse to such a burdensome expedient: That there needed no more for that purpose, t●en to let the Chapters understand his pleasure; or to make the business more sure, he might order some of his Forces to advance that way: which the King did, under pretence of securing to the Capitulars the Freedom of their suffrages; but in reality to deprive 'em of it, and force 'em to comply with his good Will and Pleasure.  
His Ambassador d' Avaux declared at the same time to the States of Holland, that his Master understood that the Three Chapters were to be left to their free choice; and that no Prince was to meddle in their Affairs; and therefore he threatened that if any Prince should pretend to busy himself in what concerned him not, he would be ready to side with the Chapters that were interrupted and injured in their Rights.  
But nothing was so pleasant, as the compliment which his Envoy made to those of Liege. He told 'em, that the King his Master out of that Affection and Friendship he had for 'em, had sent ten thousand men to quarter near their City, at a vast charge, to support 'em in their freedom of Election; which however, he hoped would be in favour of Prince William, Cardinal of Furstenburgh; otherwise that he could not forbear to put 'em in mind, that the half of their City depended upon the County of Chini, which belonged to him.  
These menaces, how terrible soever they were, how ever wrought little other effect, then to make the Chapter incline, not to Cardinal Furstenburgh, for they looked upon him as an Enemy of their Country; but in favour of Cardinal de Bovillon, whom they offered the King several times, to Elect.  
But Father lafoy Chaise put a spoke in his Wheel. He was Bouillon's Enemy; and therefore without ceasing laid before the King, that if once that Cardinal should arrive to that degree of Sovereignty, he would infallibly call to mind all the acts of Injustice that, as he pretends, have been done his Family, and his late Imprisonment in the Bastille. He supported all this with the secret causes of that Prelate's disgrace, which made a deep impression in the King's mind, and put him in fear in earnest, that if he should once come to be Prince of Liege, he would presently side with his Enemies. However it were, we know not, but we have since found that la Chaise was no Conjurer, in regard we have seen by what that Cardinal did at Rome, how faithful and Affectionate he was to the King.  
I have formerly said that Father la Chaise did a great deal of Mischief, but no body any good; which, to speak generally is very true; but as there is no general Rule without Exceptions, there may be found an Exception in this, as well as in others; and the Count of Marce, Nephew to Madam Maintenon affords us one. He sought in Marriage the Daughter of M. de Boisfrane, Superintendant of Monsieurs House; but turned out of his Place by reason of his Rapines and Extortions. Father la Chaise was very much his Friend, and therefore Madam Maintenon desired him to assist her toward the concluding of that Match, which otherwise they durst not propose, in regard the young Lady had refused the Duke of Roquelaure, when the Duke his Father was at the highest of his Gandeur. However she had a great Portion to the value of eight hundred thousand Livres, which was a Sum sufficient to tempt a more considerable Nobleman, than the Count of Marce. He therefore looked upon the Lady as one that might be the making of him; and thought he could never make the Confessor amends for the great pains he had taken to bring about the Match: though he did nothing but what he was bound in gratitude to do. For Madam Maintenon had done him greater services than that, and he stood in need of her assistance every day.  
But we cannot say the same in reference to the Marquis of Richlieu, a person of as little Reputation as ever any at Court; ill shaped, and very slender witted; yet married about two years before to one of the Loveliest and the Richest Heiresses of the Kingdom, Mademoiselle de Mazarin, Daughter of the Duke of Mazarin, who married one of the Cardinal's Nieces, upon condition that he should assume the name and Arms; for, as for this man, he was the Son of Martial de Meilleraye, Governor of Britain. Every body knows how he liv●d with his Wife, by the report of several Stories, and therefore we shall say no more, but only this, that by that Marriage he had two Children, a Son who is called the Duke of Meillaraye, and a Daughter, the Lady we are now speaking of. In regard she was very much like her Mother, both in the Features of her Face, as in her Humour, and that the usual Proverb in the Duke of Mazrins' Mouth was, That good Dogs hunt by Kind, he was very much afraid that she would likewise no less resemble her in her Life and Behaviour. To prevent this, he resolved to keep her so short, and to bestow such a virtuous Education upon her in her Infancy, as might vanquish the proneness of his Daughter to evil. To this purpose he always kept her in Nunneries; in the custody of Good and Religious Governesses, who discoursed to her of nothing but God and his Saints; and for recreation, read to her nothing but the Lives of St. Rhine, or St. Catherine of Sienna, who had deserved so much by her Devotion as to be married to Christ himself, who descended from Heaven on purpose to espouse her. Now though all this bigotry did no way agree with her Genius, she was forced to be contented with it, till she came to be Seventeen or Eighteen years of Age. At what time the Bent of her Wit and disposition beginning to fix, she grew wily and cunning, and began to converse with the young Nuns that were less reserved, who discovered to her many things of which she was ignorant before, procured her Romances and Novels, and many times the Courtship of Young Gallants. Of which the Duke being informed, he resolved frequently to shift her from one place to another, to the end she might not have time to enter into familiarities: besides, he never ●ntrusted her but to the custody of certain old Nuns, of whom he was secure. But what signified all these precautions to force back the nature of an Amorous young Girl, that gloried in deceiving her Overseers, and thought it no less necessary to boot. I saw her at Hennebout which is a Government in Bretagne belonging to her Father. He had placed her in the Abbey de la joy, under the Tuition of an Ancient and virtuous Matron, call●d Madam de Pleve, who was own Aunt to the Duchess of Portsmouth. There for some Months the Orders of the Duke of Mazarin were exactly obeyed, and she was kept very close. But in a little time she had so well learned to win the heart of her Governess, and the other. Nuns by her Flatteries and Complacencies, that they thought it not so reasonable to be so rigorous and so severe, to so amiable a young Girl. But he that contributed most to her liberty was one Father Cronier, Director of the Convent, and Confessor to Madam de Pleve, in whom she had as great a Faith as in St. Bernard himself, the Founder of the Order. This Monk was fallen in Love with Mademoiselle de Mazarin, and left nothing omitted to please her. He put himself into red habit, carefully cleansed his Teeth, and cast as many smirking looks upon her as a young Gallant in a white Periwig could have done. The young Lady who the very first time took pleasure in hearing the Gayities of his wanton Addresses, ne'er gave him so much as a frown, but maugre the greasy Fat, which is inseparable from Monks, she thought 'twas better to have a greasy swaggbellyed Lover than none at all. 'Twas observed also that she went dressed more than she was wont to do, when she was to see him, and that their Cheek-by-jowles lasted a long while. This half-Inclination lasted till she had got her Arms at Liberty, and that it was permitted her to be visited by Sparks and Gallants of this World. But then she found such a difference between them and Monks, that she utterly and without compassion abandoned the poor and unfortunate Bernardin, who was ready to die for Madness. I never saw a young Girl so wild. She would come sometimes into the speaking-room, in the Habit of a Nun, with her veil over her face, and tell those that stayed for her, that Mademoiselle de Mazarin was very ill, and could not come to 'em. At other times she would appear in Man's Apparel with a huge Periwig and a Hat and Plume of Feathers; and in that disguise would play a thousand apish Tricks, and what ever habit she had on, her wild Humours were still the same. She frankly confessed that the sight of a Hat rejoiced her, and that nothing was so Melancholy to her as Company without a Hat. But she told me one day a thing that was much more pleasant than that. We were talking one day of the excessive Devotion of her Father, at which time she never scrupled to call him Fool and Visionary, and recounted to me, that while the Duke and the Duchess lived together, he would never lie with her, before she had repeated a whole Rosary in his presence, and had been at Prayers with him every Evening upon her Knees, which together with the Litanies of the Virgin, lasted at least an Hour: So that, said she, the poor Lady my Mother, for want of Patience, was often forced to go without her Husband's kindness.  
This was the Character of Madem●iselle de Mazarin's Genius, who seeking all manner of ways to free herself from the flavery wherein she was confined, took a passionate fancy to a young Gentleman who had no other good qualities to recommend him, but only that he was the Son of the Precedent of the Parliament of that Province: and that was no great matter. For there are some of those Precedents that make no great Figure: nevertheless the business was gone so far that measures were taken to marry her privately, and get her out of the Convent, over the Walls that join to the River, where there was a Bark ready to convey the two Lovers to a Bark that was hired on purpose to carry 'em into England, where the Duchess of Mazarin, protected by the Queen her Kinswoman had promised to receive her. This hairbrained project was just ready to be put in execution, when Providence that takes care of Madfolks and Children, disappointed the contrivance, by means of the confidence which they put in the Seneschal of the City, from whom they expected assistance. He promised to lend 'em two thousand Crowns, and by that means delayed 'em fifteen days, while he in the mean time gave notice to the Duke, who came Post to Hennebond, and took his Daughter from thence, not without letting her taste of his displeasure in the terrible Reprimands that he gave her. Afterwards he carried her to Paris, where he locked her up among the Capuchins; hoping she would be there more strictly kept, as being a House that observed an exact Austerity, and where there would be always a watchful Eye over her. He also most devoutly recommended her to the custody of the Blessed St. Clement, who arrived there a little before, and who in all the usual forms accustomed among the Saints, was to signalise his coming by some authentic favour. But all these precautions proved fruitless: for the Female Capuchins being in a hurry upon the change of their House, could not so diligently look after their Prisoner but that she ran away with the Marquis of Richlieu; at least the Monks told the despairing D. of Mazarin so, who went to throw himself at the King's feet, & bawl out his misfortune all over the Court: which serv●d to make sport for those unlucky wags that lie in wait for such opportunities.  
But perhaps he would not have made so loud a noise had he known the truth of the story, for you must know that his good Friend Father lafoy Chaise was the occasion and contriver of it. He is related to the Abbess of the Convent, and spared for no pains at this time to persuade her that the Duke of Mazarin was a Churl or Cynic, that would make his Daughter run mad, if he had her much longer in his keeping. That a Young Lady of her condition was not to be so rudely dealt with; and that assuredly the least mischief that could befall her House would be this, that she would dishonour the Convent by some Foppish Trick or other: to prevent which, the best way would be to marry her privately, and send her to her Mother, till the Duke could be brought to hear reason, which he would undertake himself to do. After which he proposed the Marquis of Richlieu, which the Abbes at first did not think a suitable match; nevertheless, she submitted to his Reasons. What do you find a miss in the Marquis, said he, is he not descended from a Wedlock equal to that of the Duke of Mazarin?  
It may be he is not so rich; but good Cousin, be pleased to consider, that the Riches of this World are but Vanities; ●nd when the eternal salvation of a ●oul is the thing in question, as it is ●ow the case of Mademoiselle de Mazarin, we are not in the least to insist upon Wealth.  
Thus the business was concluded between the Father and the Abbes, and the Bishop of St. Malo's was in the Plot. For that Bishop, who has actually a Wife and Children living, many times busies himself with other matters besides saying his Breviary, and was one of the Principal Actors in that Comedy  
Thereupon the Marquis of Richlie● was presented to the fair Lady, and the marriage discoursed of at the same time. 'Tis true likewise, at first his Mee● and his want of Wit did somewhat disrelish her, but at length she rather chose to accept him than to live all her days in a Cloister. Presently she was married in the Convent itself, and the Prelate before mentioned performed the Ceremony. Which done, they procured a Man's Habit for the new Marchioness and in that dress she went into her Husbands Coach. They drove directly to Cours la Rhine, where they found one of the Bishops travalling Coache● ready, which carried 'em to St De● where they took laid Horses, road Po● to Callies, and thence got over into England.  
But some scrupulous persons, that would have an Author give 'em an account of every thing he sees, will ask me perhaps, how Father lafoy Chaise came to intrigue himself so far in this Affair? I can say nothing as to that, unless it were perchance out of his Affection for Madam de Mazarin, who was his Patron and his Benefactors Niece. It might be also that the fifty thousand Livres which the Marquis of Richlieu charged upon the Banker Grusle, for his Brother M. lafoy Chaise, might contribute something toward the matter. For he knew not well other wise how to raise the money which he was to pay for Captain of the Guards of the Gate, which he had purchased of the Marquis of St. Va●ier for four hundred thousand Livers; which was a cheap penny worth, considering it had been sold for five hundred. However 'twas too much for a Beggar as he was to raise: and if beside the fifty thousand Livres, the Confessor had not made a shift to sell some Benefices in hugger mugger, he had never had, as now he has, the Keys of the Lovure in his Custody.  
But let us leave these trifles, and proceed to Affairs of greater consequence. About this time Monsieur Sebret, Envoy Extraordinary to Siam, returned home, and with him came Father Tachart, a Jesuit, Ambassador from the New Convert, to his Holiness, and his Most Christian Majesty. He was accompanied by eight Mandarins, who attended him as his Gentlemen. This Father brought to the King the Ratification of the Treaty of Alliance made with the King of Siam, by virtue of which that Prince surrendered into his hands several Places of great Importance. The Chevalier Fourbin returned also in the same Vessel: whose too great favour had rendered him odious to M. Constance, who was afraid of being thrown out of the Saddle by him, and therefore could no longer suffer him in Place. So that Fourbin was forced to give way to the strongest, and be gone. But this giving way did not satisfy the others Ambitious and Revengeful spirit. He wrote therefore to Father la Chaise upon this Subject, complaining highly of Fourbin, calling him Braggadochio and Boutefeu, who setting a high value upon himself, yet having a very small Fortune, was more like to spoil then accommodate Affairs. However fearing he should not be believed upon his word, and that his Majesty should resent the ill usage of the Chevalier, he engaged Father de Fontenay, Superior of the House of Siam, to write in the same stile, wherein he served Constance so well, that the poor Chevalier, though Nepew to the Bishop of Beauvais, was glad of a Frigate of twelve Guns, after he had been Admiral of the Siam Seas. More than this, they seized all his Baggage in Britagn under pretence of goods that were liable to pay Custom; nor could he get 'em again without a great deal of trouble, after they had been searched and detained above six month. But 'twas no wonder they were so kind to the Sieur Constance, in regard he was the Man to whom the King was beholding for all the Power which he has in Siam.  
This Man was a Grecian by Birth, born at Cephalonia, an Island belonging to the Venetians, of very mean extraction, though Father Trachart will have him to be the Son of the Governor; wherein he is much deceiv●d; for I have been at Cephalonia myself, and know his Family. His name is Constance Queralcky, and not Phancon, as the same Father asserts: or if he assumed that name, it was only the better to conceal himself. Now in regard he was reduced so low as to beg Alms, his Mother got him to be a Ship-Boy in an English Vessel, where he was instructed in the Protestant Religion. Afterwards he came to be a common Seaman, and as such a one went to the East Indies, where it was no difficult thing for a young fellow that had wit to get money, with which he traded for himself, and in process of time was Consul for the English. By that means he became known at Court, and particularly at that of the Baccalon, or Prime Minister of Siam, who at the end of his Consulship took him for his Secretary. In that Employment he won the very heart of the Boccalon, and he the Affection of the King by his Secretary's management; so that offering to undertake an Embassy at half the expense which the Moors required, he was sent, and upon his return, the Boccalon being dead, he was preferred in his Room. At that time it was, that the Jesuits perceiving how useful he might be to 'em, ceased not to haunt him, till they had over ruled him to quit the Protestant Religion, which he abjured before Father Thomas, and Father Maldonnar; who immediately wrote to la Chaise, jointly with Father Verbiest, and then proposed to him the Project of settling the French in that Kingdom, and by consequence the ruin of the Dutch Trade in that Country. This design pleased the King, and Father la haise was ordered to write a Letter to Con●●ance, congratulating his Conversion, and withal to send him a Prayer Book richly bound. Good God how was Constance over joyed when he saw himself prevented, and sought to by a Great King. He answered the King's kindness with all the marks of Protection that he was able to afford the French; and besides that, he wrote to his Majesty to ●ffer him his most humble Service, protesting withal that he should be always ●ady to undertake any thing in order ●hereunto. He did the same to M. lafoy Chaise, with whom he engard himself ●●om that time forward to hold a most ●●timate Correspondence: and to show ●im that he intended to be as good as ●is word, he insinuated the Jesuits into ●●e Kings favour, by means of the Mathematics, which won him to that degree, that he suffered 'em to Convert his Subjects in his very Court; and more than that, he bid 'em not be out of hopes of Converting himself. And upon these hopes it was, that Father Couplet, a Dutchman born, was sent into France with two men, who styled themselves Mandarins, to hear what was become of their Ambassadors, though the King of Siam never dreamt of any such thing. This was so concerted, to tempt his Majesty to send an Embassy thither, which no body could take an oceasion to comment upon, or tax him from thence for having begged the Friendship and Alliance of the Indian Prince.  
Father Couplet had long and frequent Conferences with la Chaise concerning this Enterprise, and showed him the great advantages that would redound to the Society, which could hope no less then to engross the greatest part of the Immense Wealth which lies in the Pagods of those Countries. And as for his Majesty, not to speak of the great Honour it would be to him, to have procured the Conversion of a Kingdom so far distant, he had all the probabilities imaginable to make himself Master of it in time, if the King of Siam could be once persuaded to admit French Forces into his Country, upon pretence of defending him against the Hollanders, after they had once persuaded him that they were his mortal Enemies, who only sought an occasion to pour themselves into his Country and complete the Conquest of it; the business of Bantam very much assisting 'em to make him give credit to their Story. The Father added, that this design would be so much the more easy to the King, in regard the Indians being nothing near so well trained in War as the Europians, they could not make any formidable resistance, unless they were first instructed and exercised by the French who were perfectly skilled in military Discipline. But in regard the King was a Prince extremely Generous, and who made renown the only mark of all his great designs, it might be readily believ●d that he would not be sparing of Commanders and Officers. This, said Father Couplet, is the Posture of Affairs which seem to me to be in such a very good condition as not to be neglected. For in short, although there be no great likelihood of subduing this Empire so soon, yet the King will have always one great advantage by this means, viz. to be a perpetual Thorn in the Hollanders sides, and so settle a good Trade for his own Subjects. However certain it is, that if the King undertakes this business, he will prove more successful then. I dare promise to myself. M. Constance may be safely relied upon; for he is a man who is already at our beck: and a few more Ca●esses and Marks of Distinction from he King will bring him entirely to his Devotion.  
●●ther lafoy Chaise being thus convinced, himself, easily overruled the King, who appointed the Chevalier de Chaumont for ●is Ambassador, and gave him six Jesuits learned in the Mathematics to accompany him. Father la Chaise wrote also to Father Verbiest, at P●quin, to recommend 'em to him, and that Letter was made public: however there is no credit to be given to it; for it was a counterfeit Peice, to hid from the Eyes of the World their old Practices and designs.  
In the mean time the Hollanders, who suspected the worst, engaged Sultan Agni, King of Bantam to refuse the French Ambassador all manner of Audience, Relief or Harbour in his Ports, and to send him Orders to departed his Roads, so that he was constrained to continue his Voyage for Siam, where he was well received: and when he went away he left the forementioned Chevalier de Fourbin, whom the King desired to have for his Lord High Admiral, and in the Presence of the Ambassador gave him a Magnificent Scimitar, which is the Present which he makes to all his Generals. At the same time, he sent Ambassadors to our Monarch, who were received with extraordinary Magnificence, and who were carried over all the Conquered Countries to imprint in 'em a high Idea of France. They concluded a Treaty of Alliance with his Majesty, and carried away with 'em a great number of Officers and Soldiers of the King's Guards for the King their Master, who had but a very ill time of it. For the then King of Siam coming to die, and his Successor not enduring to be a King only in shadow, while the French who were Masters of all his most considerable places were the real and substantial Kings, caused his Subjects to fall upon 'em pell mell and put 'em all to the Sword, especially the Jesuits. 'Tis true some few of the French escaped and fled to the Hollanders who were so generous as to Protect 'em, though but a little before they had been with their Men of War to attack Paramaribo, with a design to have made themselves Masters of Surinam, from whence however they were repulsed and forced to retire with loss.  
Thus unfortunately ended the business of Siam, which had been carried on by the Jesuits, and undertaken by the Counsel and Advice of la Chaise, which cost the King above three Millions, and the Lives of above two thousand Men. Now then let us return to Europe again. The King of England being resolved to abolish the Test and Penal Laws, set forth a Declaration for Liberty of Conscience, and ordered the Archbishop of Canterbury and the rest of the Bishops, to cause the said Declaration to be read in all Churches of their Dioceses at the end of Divine Service▪ but the Bishops refusing to give obedience to the King's Commands, several of 'em who alleadg●d that it was contrary to the Laws of the Land and their own Consciences, were sent to the Tower; and orders given to proceed against 'em according to Law. The King therefore finding he could not compass his ends this way, took another course; which was to send Commissioners all over England in order to persuade the people and Magistrates to admit of this new Imposition. But they returning and declaring to the King the little inclination which they found in the People to so great a Change, and that they did not believe that any of the Justices of the Peace would consent to it, the King entered into a design of laying aside all the Magistrates in the Kingdom, that refused to yield him Obedience in this particlar. As bold a Project, as ever was; but in my opinion not to be compared with the rashness of the means which he went about to make use of, to bring it to pass. He knew he could not do this unless he had a good Army on Foot, ready, and in a condition to second his commands, and in which he might confide. This was a Gordian Knot: but he thought to have cut it easily, by forcing all the Officers to change their Religion, especially those of the Fleet, which he thought would be of more use to him. Thereupon he began to send his Monks and Priests on board the Men of War, with orders to say Mass: which they went roundly about to have done: but the Seamen all in an uproar, presently seized upon their persons and would have thrown 'em over board, had not their Officers interposed their authority to save those miserable Creatures, who were sent packing out of the danger. The King of England judging advantageously of the defference and respect of the Officers upon this occasion, resolv●d to make the best of it. To that purpose he went aboard the Admiral, and ordered all the Officers to bring their Commissions thither. After which he declared to 'em all, that it was his pleasure that they should quit their old Heresy and embrace the Roman Catholic Religion. To which the Officers made this resolute answer; that they were ready to obey him in all those things that were just and reasonable, but that they would never betray their Consciences. The King would fain have persuaded 'em that what he required of 'em was neither contrary to Justice nor Religion, and that he had no other aim then to procure the salvation of their Souls. But finding he could not bring his design about, he declared to 'em that he would give 'em no longer than twenty four hours to consider of it; after which, he would take away the Commissions of all such as would not obey his orders, and so away he went. However finding 'em as resolute as before after the time expired, he told 'em 'twas an Affair of two great importance to be resolved in so short a time, and therefore he granted a longer respite. I must confess I cannot comprehend what King James thought of himself to undertake an Affair of this nature in so short a time, and with so much huffing Haughtiness. How!— in six Months to stuff his Capital City with Monks and Friars; to take away the Colleges of Oxford from the Protestants; to settle the Catholics in their Churches! Give Liberty of Conscience, abolish the Test and Penal Laws, which the English look upon as the Touchstone of their Religion! Imprison their Bishops, for whom they have so high a Reverence! Threaten the Magistrates to turn 'em out of their Places! and lastly to order all the Naval Officers to change their Religion in 24 hours upon pain of losing their Commissions; and himself to go aboard the Men of War, in the midst of 'em, to give his commands, in Person, at a time when he was hatching to impose a suspected Prince upon 'em, is that which Posterity will hardly believe. He must needs be a great Enemy to his Repose and his Grandeur, who laboured after this manner to ruin both. Who ever drove the Chariot of Arbitrary Power thus Jehu-like? The Most Christian King, who perhaps has done as much as any other before him, durst never carry it so high. But King James thought himself to be a Hercules, a Mars, who was able of himself to subdue a whole Nation. Now if he had continued to make good this character of Authority and Undauntedness, we should have said that all this had proceeded from a Courage truly Heroic; but he flagged, when adversity befell him, and all that can be thought or said the most in honour of him is this, that all that while he was seeking for a Crown of Martyrdom.  
While these things were thus transacted in England, they were preparing for War in France. For the Pope had granted a Bull to dispense with Prince Clement of Barvaria's Age; and in regard he was the most formidable Competitor with Cardinal Furstenburgh, 'twas greatly to be feared that he would be prefer●d in the Chapter of Cologne; more especially because the Pope opposed the latter. Thus the Business of the Franchises, that signified nothing in the Main, was at length very prejudicial to the King: for he drove it on with that Passion, that he forgot the Cardinal's Interests which were more substantially his own. And though the Cardinal had often enough implored his aid, and frequently written to la Chaise about it, he never thought it worth his time to hearken to him, till the Pope had granted Prince Clement a Dispensation. But then the King reflecting severely what a considerable advantage the advancement of the Cardinal would be to him, began to think of it in good Earnest, and to that purpose wrote a submissive Letter to the Pope, which he ordered the Cardinal d' Estree to deliver to him. He also made very advantageous offers to Ranonci, the Pope's Nuncio upon condition that his Holiness would give his confirmation to Cardinal Furstenburgh, and take no notice of Prince Clement. But the Pope, who could not rely upon the King, considering the affrontive usage which he had received at his hands, remained inexorable, and had the satisfaction to see himself sought to with as much respect, as before he had been treated with disdain and contempt. In short, whithin a few days after he gave out a Bull of Eligibility for the young Prince, not having vouchsafed so much as to see or to hear the Agents for Cardinal Furstenburgd. He also forbidden his Envoy to style himself from that time forward Agent for the Elector of Cologne. Who finding that he could not be admitted to Audience, caused Placarts to be set up in all the Corners of the Streets, containing an Appeal to a future Council, in the name of his Master, against the Abusive Proceed of the Pope. But the Cardinal knew that if he stayed for justice to be done him by the future Council, he might wait long enough for that which would come too late.  
At the same time news was brought to Rome of the election of the Baron d Elderen to the Bishopric & Principality of Liege, of the Baron of Plettenburgh to that of Munster; who both sent to the Pope, to desire their confirmations, which were forthwith granted 'em accordingly.  
All this ill success vexed the King of France to the Soul; who then too late to his cost acknowledged the irrepable errors which he had committed. The first in spending so much time to support with that heat as he had done the Right of the Franchises, and losing the opportunity of having an Elector at his Devotion. The second, in obstinately insisting to have Furstenburgh made Bishop of Liege, and refusing the Election of the Cardinal Bovillon, to which the Chapter had so many times endeavoured to gain his consent. So that he could not forbear manifesting his displeasure against la Chaise, by whose advice he had been guided more than by any other man's. In so much that he told him in very harsh language, that never any business that was managed by a Jesuit came to good: And that it would be better for 'em to mind their Paedagoging in their Schools, then to meddle with State Affairs. After which he was above a month before he would so much as speak to him again; so that the Father thought himself lost forever.  
He came to Madam Maintenon all in an Alarm, importunately beseeching her to speak to the King in his behalf, who went about to make him answerable for the ill success of his Affiairs: And yet, Madam, said he, you can bear me witness, that there is no man more purely zealous for his Majesty then myself, and that for these twenty years I have laboured day and night in his Service without taking any rest. You know it Madam, you have seen with your eyes the greatest part of what I have done; Nevertheless, as the reward of all my labours, the King forsakes me quite forlorn, and treats me as if I had betrayed him and his Kingdom; and all this, because the business of Cardinal Furstenburgh, wherein God knows, I took a world of pains, has not succeeded to his wish. Tell me, replied Madam Maintenon, what●s the reason you have thus engaged him in a War, the consequences of which are enough to be feared? could you be ignorant that the advancement of Cardinal Furstenburgh to the Bishopric of the Deceased Elector of Cologne might have secured us against the League of Auspurg, which is now pouring down upon Us, like a flight of Vultures. For in short, when once the Hollanders Arm, it is a signal to all the rest. Oh! Madam, replied the Father, they were well beaten in the preceding War, though England did not take our side; what may we not then assure ourselves now England and we are joined together. The King of England, replied Madam de Maintenon, has need of his Forces at home; and believe me he is in no condition to secure his Neighbours. Let it be never so little replied the Father, it will be always something. After all, the King is in a condition to prevent his Enemies by a strong Invasion of the Rhine, and by renewing his Alliance with the Turks will find 'em work enough. But suppose nothing of all this were true or probable, must I bear the blame of a misfortune, which in good Policy could not be prevented? I do not say so, reply●d Madam Maintenon, interupting him, but that his Majesty ought to have regard to the integrity of your intentions, and the services which you have done him, and should restore you to his favour. I promise you to do my utmost, and I make no question but easily to bring it to pass: for the King is a person of too much reason, not to consider the Fatality of the Thing. Never then torment yourself so much, but assure your self this storm will soon blow over: You are not accustomed to Disgraces. No indeed Madam, answered the Father, and I must confess, 'tis a very hard case, to see myself thus ill treated by a Prince, to whose Interest●d have without the least scruple of Conscience sacrificed the Church, the Holy See my own Order, and myself to ●o●t: and so saying the Tears dropped fro● his Eyes, as big as Pearls, such was his Grief and Anguish of mind.  
But Madam de M●i●●●●● spoke to the King in his behalf, and within a few days he was admitted, and his Oracular Counsel as much consulted as ever.  
The K. sent to Rome the Sieur de Chauh to deliver a Letter to his Holiness, touching the differences that were between 'em, but the Pope refused to receive it, so that Cardinal d' Estree was constrained to Print it. In the mean while the King seized Avignon, and threatened to enter Italy. He also forbidden Cardinal Ranonci to stir out of Paris; and told him he should have the same usage as his Ambassador met with. And in regard the King was afraid lest the Pope should come to excommunicate him together with all the rest of his Subjects, to prevent that blow, he appealed to a future Council, in reference to all whatever the Pope might do against him, and confirmed his Appeal by a Decree of Parliament.  
In the mean time great Preparations were made for the War on every side. The Hollanders more especially set forth a potent Fleet; which gave great jealousy to the Kings of France and England, who were both persuaded that these preparations concerned Them.  
Their Ambassadors therefore presented Memoirs to the States, to represent their just suspicions, upon their setting forth such a Fleet, and at a season when others began to lay up their Ships, and therefore they desired their High and Mightinesses to let 'em know to what end all these preparations tended. The French Ambassador added, that he made no question but that their Fleet was designed against England; but if it were, his Master declared that the strict Alliance and Obligations that were between that Prince and Him, would not permit him to suffer such an Innovation, without succouring him with all his Forces; of which he was willing to give 'em notice, before it came to open War, to the end they might not plead ignrance. He told 'em more over that the King was resolv●d to uphold the Cardinal of Furstenburgh and the Chapter of Cologne in the full and free enjoyment of their Rights and Privileges, against all that should give 'em any disturbance. And in regard he was informed of new motions and new Cabals to their prejudice, he was no less desirous to let 'em understand his Sentiments in that particular.  
This was the Declaration of the French Ambassador, by which it may be seen, that the King was not absolutely ignorant of the Hollanders design; at least that his suspicions were conformable to the truth. Nevertheless, through a Fatality, which I apprehend so much the less, because it is not usual for that Prince to be guilty of such failings, he heard the Thunder grumble, and saw the Arm just lifted up to strike, without taking any just measures to ward off the Blow: and upon this occasion where there was no need of any more than following the Light of common Sense, to guard himself from the danger that threatened him, it seemed as if he had been well pleased to have it fall upon him. In short, if instead of sending the Dauphin with an Army to the Rhine, had he marched directly to Mastricht; or had enter●d Holland by the way of Bon, of which the Cardinal of Furstenburgh was then Master, as he did in the year 72, or had got ready his own Fleet, as the Hollanders advanced in their Marisine Preparations, is it not true that the Hollanders being obliged to look after their own defence would never have permitted the sending away their Army by Sea? For 'tis in vain to object that the King of Sweden had lent 'em Men; and that the Elector of Brandenburg had a considerable force ready to march. Fifteen or Twenty thousand Men would never have been sufficient to stop the Army of France; the sole approach of which would have utterly disappointed the great and brave design which they had upon England, and which was so fortunately accomplished.  
But instead of this, the King allurd by the certain hopes of taking two or three Places, not able to make any resistance, snapped at that Bait, and sent away the Dauphin with a mighty Preparation to conquer a pitiful Nook of Land, while on the other side the Prince of Orange called in by the English, and assisted by the Hollanders, made sure of three powerful Kingdoms, the preservation of which was of such vast importance to his Majesty, and King James his Confederate. In the name of God, was ever such a sottish clumsy mistake committed; or was the like ever seen or heard of since Kings first reigned and waged War one upon another? For my my part I must, in this, acknowledge the effects of an unknown and superior Providence.  
By what I have said 'tis apparent, that the end of that year was fatal to two Kings: nevertheless, when the Dauphin returned to Court he was overwhelmed with Congratulations. All men cried out Victory, Victory: the Sovereign Courts, The Magistracy of the City harangued him; the Poets squeezed their Brains for Panegyrics, and the King himself spoke his Elegy several times in public before all the World, and he missed but little of having a Triumph designed him. For my own part who was an eye-witness of all this, and knew what it behoved me to think of it, I sighed in private to behold the weakness of men, that oftimes Laugh, and Feast, and Dance, when they have much more cause to Weep. I could not think they had so much reason to be merry for winning three Towns the on side, and losing three Kingdoms on the other. But the French are of this Humour; they look upon all things through prospective Glasses; and those things that are to their disadvantage they behold with that end which lessens the Objects, but those things that please 'em they view through the other end that magnifies whatever they see and brings it close to the sight.  
However it were the Prince of Orange embarked his men and set Sail. 'Tis true he was a little delayed by a Tempest that did him some damage; but that being soon repaired he set sail again, and fortunately continued his voyage. The news of it arrived in France, and according to custom, the general report was, that the greatest part 〈◊〉 the Ships were cast away, and that the Prince of Orange was drowned; and this rumour was supported by the following Sta●●a of Nostredamus, which then made a great noise.  

En mil, six cent, Octante huit  
Albion sera deliveree,  
D'une Emprise mal digeree  
Qui ne produira aucun fruit;  
Et par un Accident estrange  
Poissons se nourriro'nt d' Orange.   

In thousand one, six hundred eighty Eight  
Endangered Albion shall delivered be  
From a Contrivance lay●d but sillilee,  
The fruit of which shall blasted be by Fate.  
And through an accident by Heaven decreed.  
The hungry Fishes shall on an Orange feed.   
This was shown me by an Advocate in a most Triumphant manner, who told me that I was no longer to complain of the Fortune of France, for whose prosperity all the Elements fought. I knew not what answer to give him, for I had never study●d Nostredamus: but the next day I went to visit my old Friend Cousinet, a Counsellor in the Parliament of Bretagne, a person of Learning and good Sense, to whom I shewed my Prophecy. In answer to which, my worthy friend, said he, I have read the Centuries of this ginger several times from one end to the other, and I assure you this Stanza is not there: 'tis a piece made at random; and with that he told me a Story; how that in the time of Mazarin's troubles, he being engaged in the contrary Party, and the Cardinal doing all he could to ruin him, he made a Stanza, which he inserted among the rest, and had 'em reprinted on purpose. He repeated it to me, but I have forgot all but the last Line, which I remember concluded thus.  
Les Rogues Rogues le Rogue assommeront.  
The Red Red, the Red shall knock oath Head.  
By the Red Red he meant the Parliament, and by the Red the Cardinal. Nevertheless, it proved as false as that of the Prince of Orange. After which, I suspected all the Centuries that were produced upon the present Affairs.  
So soon as the Prince was ready to set Sail, he put forth a Declaration wherein he declared that being several times earnestly solicited by a great many Lords both Spiritual and Temporal, and by many Gentlemen of the English Nation to deliver 'em from a Despotic Power, under which they were ready to be subjected, to the destruction of their Privileges and the Laws of the Realm, and at the same time to free the Church of England from the Persecution which it suffered; moved therefore with the misfortunes and the seve●● Captivity which both Religion and the State were likely to fall under, he could not refuse 'em the Succour which they desired. That his intentions were not to inv●●● the Crown, as his Enemies gave out, 〈◊〉 to make any alteration in the Legitim●●● order of the Succession; but on the other side, that he came to facilitate and procure the Meeting of a Free Parliament, wherein every Member might speak his own Sentiments without Constraint, and all together labour the restoration of the Laws and Liberty of the Kingdom to their Primitive vigour, and the nesetling Religion in a flourishing condition, as it was before the King's unjust Attempts, which tended only to the entire Destruction of it. That the King of England's Designs were sufficiently visi●●● by his strict Alliance with the Most Christian King, and the intimate Union the was between 'em, though the King of France had long professed himself the declared Enemy of the Kingdom England, the United Provinces, and particularly of the Protestant Religion, which he persecuted even to Rage and Frenzy. That it was clear that King James was governed wholly by his Counsels, that his Politics were regulated by his, and that he aimed at the same ends. And therefore seeing it was the interest of the People of England not to endure any longer such terrible Innovations he hoped they would receive him as a Friend, who only came to secure and protect 'em and concur with 'em in restoring Peace to the Church, and Repose and Freedom to every Private Person.  
This Manifesto no sooner appoared in England, but he undid in one day all that he had done before. He restored the Bishops to their Dioceses, vacated his High-Commission Court, shut up the College of Jesuits and all the Chapels where Mass was publicly said, restored the expelled Fellows in Oxford and Cambridge, and surrendered back to the City their Charter and their Franchises. Which done, he put himself at the Head of his Army, where he stayed not long, his heart failing him; and though he had promised the King of France that he would either beat the Prince of Orange or die upon the Spot, yet he forsook his Men and retired to London, where he said and did many things so unworthy a great and Courageous Prince, such as till then he was thought to be, as surpasses imagination; and when he was alone wept and lamented himself like a man in a kind of desperation. At last, for an accumulation to all the rest, he poorly betook himself to flight and retired into France, and so verified the Proverb, He that quits his Country, loses it.  
As for the Prince of Orange, 'tis evident, that he never ambitioned the Crown: and I believe that his intentions were really the same as he declared in his Manifesto. For first, it is certain he is a Prince the most steadfast to his Religion of any Prince in the World, and that Religion was the Primum Mobile that caused him first to act. Besides, 'tis notoriously known, that in the War of 72, he constantly refused the offers that were made him both by France and England to make him Sovereign of the Low Countries; and that in his answer to those that made the proposal, he used these noble expressions, that will remain a Glorious Testimony, to future Ages, of his Moderation and Justice. God forbidden, said he, that I should ever think of raising my Fortune and my Grandeur upon the ruin of my dear Country. The same thing also appeared at V●recht in the year 75, at what time the Province of Gelder's being quite broken and overlayed by the excessive expenses they had been at, and not knowing which way to raise new supplies, willingly offered to obey him as her Sovereign. But the Generous Prince who saw that what the People did was out of pure necessity, returned 'em thanks and told 'em withal, that he would be always their Friend, but never their Master. These are strokes that will appear lovely in the History of this Prince: nor do I well remember where we may meet the like.  
In the mean time King James, the Queen his Wife, and the supposed Prince of Wales arrived in France, where there reception was as great as if they had come the reigning King and Queen upon a Visit. The King gave 'em the Castle of St. Germains magnificently furnished, and ordered 'em to be served by the Officers of his Household. He assigned 'em also a hundred thousand Crowns a Month for their expenses, and appointed the Guards of his own Body to attend 'em; besides that, his Court was no less thronged than that of Ve●●●illes. In short, he was almost as much K. at St. Germains as he had been at White-Hall: and had it lasted, I should have thought him very happy in his misfortunes. But I know not how, the Courtiers, who saw there was nothing to be got there, slunk away by degrees; the Exchequer was not so flush as it was before; so that the Castle became at length such a forlorn Desert, that the King and Queen have been often constrained for want of Company to play by themselves at Chess, for three or four hours together to pass away their ti●e.  
Nor did the misfortunes of this Prince render the Pope a jot the more tractable. He deny●d his Ambassador twice the Cardinal's Cap which he requested for Father Peter, and thought he did him a great favour in promising to afford him a place of shelter. The little indulgence which his Holiness had for King James proceeded from his intimate Union with the King of France; for the Quarrel between the two Courts began to fester every day more and more; and it was come to that, that the King fearing lest his Holiness should take up some sinister resolutions against Lavardin, had caused Cardinal Ranonci to be seized in the Convent of St. Lazarus, caused him to be guarded in sight by the Sieur de St. Olon, Gentleman of the Chamber in Ordinary, who was put upon him under pretence of keeping him Company: and he stayed with him, till the King's Ambassador was got safe out of the Territories of the Church. He left Rome in April, after he had given notice of his departure to his Holiness by Cardinal d' Estree, who declared to him, that since his Holiness had constrained his Majesty to recall his Ambassador, he could no longer hope for any accommodation, or of entering into any farther Negotiation, his Majesty having revoaked all the Power which he had given him till that time. However he departed with the same Pomp that he entered, being accompanied by the Cardinal d' D●stree, and Maldachini, and attended by above five hundred Gentlemen. Some few days after the Marquis of Cogolludo, the Spanish Ambassador, made his public Entry, never standing upon his privilege of Franchises.  
The next Month, there happened great contentions and scufflings among the Jesuits at Rome. For Father Goswin Nichel, their tenth General being dead, hot canvasings ensued about election of his Successor. The French, who had never had a General of their Nation, stood all for Father la Chaise, and alledg●d in favour of him, not only his great merit, his long experience in Affairs, and his credit with the King, but the important services he had done the Church, both against the Calvinists and the Jansenists, and by the infinite number of Conversions which he had procured as well in France, as in England, and even as far as Siam. Others objected, that what ever he had done upon those occasions, was not out of any kindness for Religion, but merely out of self love, or else because his own or the Prince's interest, to which he was entirely devoted, inclined him to it. All which was visible by his having so violently supported, and by his still supporting the interest of the Regale, and by his connivance, or to say more truly, by the share which he had in the the injurious and rash proceed of France against the Holy See: which if nothing else, was sufficient to exclude him forever from the Dignity of General. These contests lasted above two years, during which time both Parties did all they could to strengthen their own interests. La Chaise used all his utmost endeavours to engage the Prelates that adhered to France. For though he did not look upon this Preferment as the bounds of his ambitious desires, he considered however, that it was always one step to the Purple; and that though he should miss of a Cardinalship, the Dignity of General being for Life, it would be no bad Post for a Jesuit. But for obtaining it, there was a necessity of the Pope's Favour, and he had justly provoked him to be his Enemy: and by that means he ruin●d all his Pretensions: for otherwise, I am apt to belieee, he might at length have prov●d successful in his attempt, He being therefore rejected, Father John Paul d' Oliva was elected, in despite of the French, who protested against him, and gave advice of it to Father la Chaise, promising withal to do whatever he could desire of 'em upon this occasion. Thereupon the King sent an Order to all the French Jesuits to return into France, to the end they might there unanimously join with others in the choice of a General of their own Nation, which had no dependence upon the General elected. Which Order was signified to Father d' Oliva, with a Protestation of the French Jesuits before they departed, not to acknowledge, for the future, either themselves or their brethren of France any other superior than the Vicar General whom the King should appoint to govern the Company.  
This division happening in the Society of Jesus made a great noise; and no body questioned but there would be very suddenly two great Schisms in the Church: the one General, by a separation of the Gallican Church, which threatened a National Council; and other particular of the French Jesuits, who were about to make a Body by themselves.  
Nevertheless, nothing of this fell out; for as to the first, every body knows the reason; the Pope died, and his Successor proving a very good French man, the French never scrupled to acknowledged him. And as to the second, 'tis an Affair that has something more of mystery in it. Father la Chaise, who was very near being nominated, considering that this Preferment would signify no great matter, and would oblige him to quit his Place of Confessor to the King, which was of more moment to him, besides that he could not enjoy it without the Pope's approbation, who would never allow it, but rather excommunicate 'em all; that then he should be constrained to have recourse to Indulgence, in quitting the Generalship, and so between two Stools he should quite fall to the Ground,  
These Reasons, well weighed, caused him to change his Battery: and therefore resolved to make the honour of a forced acquital of his Interest redowned to himself, he told the King, after he had prepossessed him by thousand returns of submissive thanks, and acknowledgements of his goodness in this Particular, that having seriously considered the thing, he found it would prove prejudicial to his Majesty's Service, because this Schism in the Order would divide his most considerable interests; and for that they, from whom his Majesty might expect considerable Services, would no longer be engaged. Which he had already experienced in Father Vaudorn, who sent him no more intelligence from Vienna, and in Father Ferres in Spain, who had written frankly to him, that he would no longer have any Commerce with him. So that your Majesty, said he, will lose your best Correspondencies, and your most faithful Servants. I will not be the cause of so much mischief, and therefore beseech your Majesty to forbear carrying the business any higher for my sake. Afterwards he gave the King to understand, that he had sure expedients to set all things right again, without engaging the King's Honour. That there needed no more than to propose under hand to General Oliva the writing a submissive Letter to his Majesty, wherein he should assure him of his extraordinary respect; with a Protestation that he never thought his Majesty concerned in the oppositions that were made against his Election, and that if he had known it, he would never have accepted the Preferment; to which he was to add, that if it pleased his Majesty to vouchsafe him his consent, he would endeavour upon all occasions to make known his inviolable Zeal and Devotion for his Service: upon which his Majesty might relax his Pretensions. The King had much ado to yield, foreseeing it would be a feeble condescension in a matter begun with so much noise and heat. But at last he suffered himself to be overruled, and great applause was given to la Chaise, who in his opinion had ●offer'd the King a very fair Sacrifice. Paul d' Ervaux, Auditor of the Rota, was employed to manage this accommodation, which was soon brought to a conclusion; the Party that sought it standing upon their terms; and so the French Jesuits returned to Rome, together with Fontaine, who was appointed Assistant General.  
But this advantageous return, could not preserve 'em from a very great mortification that befell 'em, a little after their arrival under the new Pontificate of Alexander the VII. This was the condemnation of their two Thesis' maintained in their Colleges, the one at Pont a Mousson, in Lorraine, Jan. 14. 1689. the other at Dijon three years before, in 1686, which were declared Rash, Scandalous and Heretical, by a Decree of the Inquisition at Rome, the Pope then Present, bearing date August 24. 1690. 'Twas the Archbishop of Reims who was the occasion that this misfortune befell 'em, as being the Scourge of the Society: and though his Brother were lafoy Chaises intimate Friend, lainere a whitt the less their Enemy for all that. He is always lying perdue to examine the Conduct of those worthy Fathers, and when he finds any thing go a miss, he never pardons 'em: for he is inexorable as to Them. So soon therefore as these two Thesis' came to his hand, he failed not to send 'em to the Pope.  
In the first is to be discovered that fundamental opinion of the Society, which is the Source of all their irregularities. It dispenses with the Command of loving God, in the course of a moral Life; and maintains, that it is sufficient to render our actions good, if they tend to the supreme end, which is the glory of God, interpretatively and indirectly. Which is just the Doctrine unfolded before in the conversations of Father de Vaux with Father la Chaise. The second contained a Doctrine as damnable as the former.  
Philosophic sin, according to this Doctrine, is a Humane action, contrary to that which agrees with rational nature, and right reason. This is their definition of Philosophical or Moral Sin: Now hear their Proposition.  
Philosophical Sin, how grievous soever, being committed by him who has no knowledge of God, or who does not actually think of God, is a grievous sin, but it is no offence to God, nor any Mortal Sin which breaks off the Amity of God with man, nor which merits eternal Pains.  
This foundation being allowed, there needs no more than for a man never to think of God, to the end he may never be guilty of sin during the whole course of a moral Life.  
Innocent XI. died upon the 12. of August 1689. of the same faction with Innocent the XI. The French give out that he was a Colonel of Horse, and that playing one day at Picquet with a near Kinswoman of the Popes, of whom he won considerable sums of Money, he found the Lady had three Aceses in her hand, and that he had three Kings besides a fourth that came in to him: upon which both ventured roundly, till it run up to a very considerable sum which the Lady lost upon Honour; and not being able to pay him without great inconvenience to herself, she persuaded the Colonel to lay aside his Sword and put on a Cassock, and that she would pay him the Money she owed him in Benefices. They farther add that it 'twas by this means that he obtained the Cardinalship, and that he had not been elected Pope in 1676. but only because 'twas thought he would not live long by reason of certain wounds he had received in his Youth. I cannot say whither this be true or no, he was chosen Clerk of the Chamber under urban VIII. which was 20 years before the Pontificate of Innocent XI. and he could not be a Colonel at that time. He was born at Cosmo, in Milanois, and was call●d Benedict Odescalchi The Jesuits rejoiced very much at his death, for they accounted him their mortal Adversary, and loudly accused him of Jansenism. But that was not a thing to be wondered at; since that in those days, as now, it was not required to make a man a Jansenist, that he should only profess the five propositions, but if he were no friend of the Holy Society, that was sufficient. Now as for the Holy Father, he had held correspondence with M. Arnauld, and had refused his approbation of Father la Chaise for the Generalship; and that was a thousand times much more than needed to make him a Jansenist.  
When the Father first received the news, he was then with the King, and as Politic as he was, he could not moderate the excess of his joy. Yet fearing to display it too apparently before the King, he withdrew a little to recover himself, and at the same instant met the Archbishop of Paris. But than it was impossible for him to contain himself any longer. A thousand Pistoles, said he, accosting him, and your Benediction, for the news which I have to tell you. As for my Benediction, replied the Archbishop, there it is, and as for the thousand Pistoles, they are always ready at your service: but then keep me no longer in suspense; let me know what your news is. News, replied the overjoyed Father, that will make you a Cardinal, or I'll turn Jansenist: the old Lubber of the Vatican is dead, and has left ten Caps unbestowed: one of 'em will never let you catch cold of your Head. Do you tell me true, quoth the Prelate interrupting him. I tell you nothing but truth, replied the Father. They held on this conversation the same tone above a quarter of an hour, in the Guard Chamber, and congratulated each other a thousand times over, upon their approaching promotion to the Cardinalship, never minding all this while the Guards of the Body and about fifty other Persons that heard every word they said; such were the transports of their exultation. At length perceiving their error, they retired into the King's Chamber.  
Presently the King appointed another Ambassador for Rome, who was the Duke of Chaulnes, and who departed forthwith, together with the Cardinals of Furstenburgh, Bonzi and Bovillon, to be in time at the Conclave. As for Cardinal Cainus, he had orders to stay at Grenoble. He was fallen again into new disgrace. For Father la Chaise had given advice to the King, that he held correspondence with the Pope, and particularly with the Bishop of Vaison hated by the King, because he had offered his Holiness to go to Versailles and Excommunicate him. Upon which the Cardinal wrote to la Chaise, complaining that he had violated the Laws of Nations, and the Church in the person of that Prelate whose Bishopric was not in France. The Father showed the Letter to the King, who was highly incensed at it; and that was the reason that he had not the Order of the Holy Ghost bestowed upon him, at the Promotion which the King made fifteen days after, though he had designed him Commander of the Order, as indeed he well deserves to be. So soon as the Conclave began to sit, the Cardinals entered their Protests, for that their Intelligence assured 'em that the Clergy of France had not recanted the five Propositions which they maintained, and that the Most Christian King had not made restitution of the County of Avignon, nor renounced his Pretensions to the Franchises. Eight days after that, the Duke of Chaulnes arrived at Rome with the French Cardinals, and upon his giving the Cardinal's advice of his arrival, he was visited, admitted to Audience, and acknowledged Ambassador, in despite of their Protestations.  
The three French Cradinals so bestirred themselves in the Conclave, especially Bovillon, who to regain the King's favours did impossibilities, that at last Cardinal Ottoboni was chosen the sixth of Octob. 1689. This Election was not made by way of Scrutiny, but by a tumultuous Adoration, the like to which was never seen. For the Cardinal de Bovillon having made his Party as numerous as he could, though it was hardly sufficient to have voted the Exclusion of any other, sallied out of his Chamber, and ran about the Conclave, crying ou●, Ottoboni is Pope: upon which signal the rest of the Faction coming out of their Cells, flew about, crying out in like manner, Ottoboni is Pope. Upon that they all hastened to his Cell, took him upon their Shoulders and set him upon the Altar. All the rest of the Cardinals surprised at so sudden and unexpected an Election, and not having leisure either to consider, nor to count the Number of those of their Party, followed the rest, every body believing the thing done, and no body being willing to draw upon himself singly the ill will and future Revenge of the Holy Father, by a fruitless and rashly undertaken Exclusion.  
In the first Congregation which this new Pope held, he released to the Cardinal of Bovillon, in acknowledgement of the service he had done him, the sum of 30000 Livres which he owed the Apostolic Chamber, and gave him the Bishopric of Alb●no, by that means advancing him from the rank of Cardinal Priest to the degree of Cardinal Bishop. The Prince of Turune, his Nephew, soon after arrived at Rome, and the Pope ordered him to sit down, and put on his Hat; an Honour allowed to none but sovereign Princes.  
1690. And upon his importanate Solicitations it was that he granted a Cardinal's Cap to the Bishop of Beauvais. 'tis true, he had a great deal of trouble to obtain it, and that he despaired of it above four times. For I myself have seen several Letters which he wrote to the Bishop of Marseilles upon that subject, wherein he had still these Expressions, I do what I can, but know not whither I shall succeed or no: However I promise ye not to give over, till his Holiness absolutely forbids me to speak no more of it. He also took a world of Pains to make him grant his Bulls, and was the first that had one.  
So many favours granted for his sake by his Holiness, deservedly required that he should do something a fresh for the Holy See. To that purpose he persuaded the King to satisfy the Pope upon the Affairs of the Franchises, and to surrender his pretensions freely; of which Tidings he was the Messenger himself from the Duke of Chaulnes. At which his Holiness was so overjoyed, that he promised the Cardinal at the same instant, powerfully to secure King James with Money, and in short, seemed to be altogether inclined to take part with France. Cardinal Furstenbergh also, making the best of his Opportunity, demanded a Review of the Affairs of Cologne, and in a word the Pope ordered an Assembly of Lawyers to meet at Sieur di Ervauxes, the Auditor of the Rota's House; but not with that success as was desired. For the Bulls granted to Prince Clement of Bavaria, by Innocent XI. were confirmed. Which the Cardinal took so heinously, that fearing withal, lest the Austrians should put some scurvy trick upon him in a place where he thought himself not very secure, he decamped by the Advice of La Chaise, who sent him a Letter to return to Paris, and accept of the Abbey of St. Germane de Prez, which the King bestowed upon him at his arrival.  
But the Capitulars of Cologne, that were of his Party, would not desist for all this: they took a journey to Rome, to supplicate the Pope to restore 'em to their Canonships and Benefices. The Pope lent 'em a favourable Ear, and used his Endeavours very strenuously with the Emperor and Elector of Cologne to that effect. But all to no purpose; for they wrote so effectually to the Cardinal de Medicis Protector of the Affairs of Germany, beseeching his Holiness not to trouble 'em any more about that Affair, that he was forced to give it over. Nevertheless, in April following, he took off all the Interdictions and Excommunications that had been thundered out against those outed Priests, and admitted all their Appeals in reference to every thing that had been acted against them to their prejudice. These things astonished many People, and much more the Nomination of the Archbishop of Paris to the dignity of Cardinal, to which the Pope gave his Consent. For till then, that Prelate was thought a person forever excluded from that preferment; and Pasquin had said a long time before, That the Archbishop of Paris had sufficiently prosecuted the Holy See, but he would never blush for it. The Archbishop of Reims had not the same advantage, and though he had been nothing near so obstinate in opposing the Pope, nevertheless he had the vexatious misfortune to see his rival and hated Competitour preferred before him.  
Besides all this, the Pope was not contented with the Right of the Franchises, which was conceded to him; he vehemently insisted for satisfaction in reference to the Assembly in 82. and the Proceed that ensued upon it. On the other side, the King, who was unwilling to give him a Repulse, in hopes to gain the Bulls for his Bishops, and some other Favours more, made a show of acquiescing willingly, and summoned an Assembly of the Clergy; but this was only to amuse the Old Gentleman. Nay, he entered into a more particular Negotiation, and received a Project of an Accommodation, which was brought him in his Holinesses Name by the Abbot of Polignac; and appointed Father La Chaise, the Archbishop's of Paris and Reims, and the Bishops of Orleans and Meaux to examine it, who rejected it, alleging that it tended to dishonour and blast the Bishops and Prelates that had been present in that Assembly; to which they could not consent, and that there were other ways enough to satisfy his Holiness in that particular.  
This was as much as to say, that they meant not to come to any Accommodation; for what Expedient could they ever think of unless it were a Recantation. 'twas not to be imagined that the Holy See would ever be satisfied with less; and that's a Thing, which I am apt to believe the King will never endure so long as he lives. And it is apparent that the Pope understood him in that sense; seeing that finding himself surprised by Death before he could bring this Affair to a conclusion; he thundered out, upon his very deathbed, a Bull, that cancels, disannuls and condemns as bold and Erroneous the Decisions of that Assembly about the Regale, and the four Propositions maintained against the Authority of the Holy See. This was a Thunderclap to the King, which he never expected. Father lafoy Chaise therefore, who had no more kindness for this Pope then for his Predecessor, was plain with the K. in these words, I have foretold it more than once, that Your Majesty was not to expect any good from this Knave of a Pope. I knew him at Rome, when he was no more than a bare Priest, and one that bedaggled his Cassock with trotting from morning till night to the Houses of the Prelates of Rome, into whose favour he insinuated himself by carrying 'em the News of the Town. He was a kind of familiar Spy, who was no sooner gone out of one House, but he went to another to tell what he had seen and heard. I never knew a Person of such a double heart, or of such a Treacherous Soul. The Father still continuing his discourse, endeavoured after that, to render the Cardinal suspected to the King, by putting it into his Head, that he had not done him so great a piece of service as he imagined by raising that Man to the Holy See: and talking of the extraordinary honour which he had paid to the Prince of Turrenne, and of the 10000 Crowns he had given him, he sought to infuse into him, that the Pope and the Cardinal understood one another. But that Hook did not take with the King; nor was he known to look upon the Cardinal with a less favourable Eye for la Chaises Story.  
At the same time the Father lost a good Friend, with whom there had been always 〈◊〉 ●nd Understanding. I mean M. Louvois, who died so suddenly, that he had no time to settle his private Affairs. Some people suspected him to have been poisoned: nevertheless, when he was opened, there was not the least symptom of any such thing. True it is, that it was an End which he very much dreaded in his Life-time; whether it were out of a natural Weakness, or that having made use of that means, perhaps, to send some body else into the other World, he was afraid of being paid in his own Coin, I will not determine. However it were, this is certain, that he omitted no precaution against Poison: and because he knew that Lackeys were the most formidable Instruments for administering those deadly preparations, it was his rule to oblige his own by all manner of Favours, while they served him; and never to part with 'em, without giving 'em some Employment, to the end that the hopes of raising their Fortune by him might retain 'em in that Fidelity, which the fear of God, or love of Virtue would never have done. So that in his House the Lackeys came to be Valets de Chambre, and thence risen to be Commissaries of the Provisions, Receivers and Controllers in the Farms, and many of 'em Commissaries at War; not to mention the credit which they had with their Master, who never denied 'em such Employments they begged for their Kindred and Friends. So that it was a common saying at Pariis, when the Lackeys of this Minister had lost their Money, they sported away 3 Ensigns upon a Knave of Diamonds, or two Lieutenants upon a Queen of Hearts: But these were stories made at pleasure. This is certain, that if you gave twenty Lovidores to a Valet de Chambre, you very much shortened your way. But in regard that Cooks were the most dangerous of all, they were the best used. I know one that left his Service about five Years ago, after he had got vast sums of Money. When he desired of M. Louvois that he might have leave to quit his Service, he told his Master, that having the Honour to serve him ten or a dozen Years, he had gained an Estate sufficient to maintain him, and therefore he would be glad to take his ease, if he might have his permission to retire, and that he would resign his place to some poor honest Fellow that was in necessity. M. Louvois returned him answer, That he was very glad he had done his business, and gave him leave; promising him withal his Protection as long as he lived. This man was no sooner out of his Service, but nothing would serve him but to set up for a Lord, even in Paris itself, without seeking to go any further. And the beautiful House of the deceased M. de Bizeul, being to be sold, he outbid the Count d' Estampes ten thousand Livres, who offered sixty thousand Crowns for it. The Count being offended at such a disappointment, complained to the King, who severely rebuked M. the Louvois, and told him 'twas a crying shame that People should go out of his House so rich, as to bid for Purchases that few Dukes and Peers were in a condition to cope with. Upon which, the Marquis of Louvois sent for his Cook the next day, and gave him such a rattle as he deserved. But this Minister is dead, and M. de Pompone recalled and put in his Place, which made F. lafoy Chaise ready to eat his Fingers for madness. 'Twas in vain for him to remonstrate, that the man who had once betrayed his Secrets, would never serve him faithfully, but that he was every way to be suspected; for the King knowing upon what grounds he spoke, gave little or no heed to what he said. Besides, he gins to understand the revengeful humour of the Man, and since the Affair of the Franchises and the Bishopric of Liege better instructed him, he hearkens not so much to him as he was wont to do, where any one is concerned for whom he has no kindness. More than this, he has had the misfortune to fail in several Enterprises, which the King never naturally loved. (1690.) Lately he miscarried in one of his own contriving; which was a Conspiracy at Turin; which was to have had that City betrayed to the French, and which was carried on by the Jesuits of that Place, who had received a great part of the Money to gain the Traitors: but the Treason being discovered, all came to nothing. When I say it was of lafoy Chaise's contrivance, I do not assert it for a truth, but upon the Report which was then spread abroad in Paris, and they named one Father Campo, an Italian, who made several journeys from Paris to Turin for that purpose. However if it be not true, 'tis very probable; for there is nothing more agreeable to the Genius of those Good Fathers, than such sorts of Enterprises.  
All this while the War was carried on with the utmost ●eat imaginable on both ●i●e. The year 1689. was signalised with the Reduction of Mayence, Bon, Keyzerwaret, Rhineberg and other Places, taken by the Imperialists from the French, who not having Forces sufficient to make opposition, contented themselves with laying the Palatine and Wistemberg in Ashes without undertaking any thing more warlike upon the Terra Ferma. Nor were they more Fortunate in Ireland, whither King James had carried two Millions in new coined Lovidores, before which he thought the Walls of the Cities would have fallen, like those of Jericho; for I do not believe he depended much upon the Courage of the Irish; but he was amazed that Londonderry should force him to stop short in his Career. Thither he returned a second time, resolving to swallow up that place, wherein there were only some of the Country People and Inhabitants, with one Walker, a Minister for their Governor; but he was constrained to retreat a second time with considerable loss. This bad Introduction to Conquest, discouraged those of his Party very much, which otherwise would have been very numerous; for besides the Irish, part Catholics, part purchased, he had many Friends in Scotland, who held things in a kind of Poise for some time, and a greater number in England then were thought to have been, and who were discovered every day by scattering seditious Pamphlets, and holding Correspondence with the Abdicated King. The famous William Penn, who had made himself Chief of the Quakers, under King James' Reign, that he might with more ease destroy the Protestant Religion, not caring by what Contrivances or Means, so he brought about his Ends, was one of those who became suspected for a Jesuit. He was thereupon committed to Prison; and being asked whether he were a Jesuit or no, he stoutly deny●d it. God preserve me, said he, I have ever hated to Excess, that cursed Gang; I am a Protestant, and a Protestant will die. He ought to be believed, because he said it; but if his ill Fortune should so order it, that he should fall into the Clutches of the Inquisition, either in Spain, or otherwhere, and then, like the Flittermouse in the Fable, should change his Note: Who, I a Protestant! should he say, I swear to you, gentlemans, you do me wrong, Abrenuntio Protestants, vadite retro, I know not those sort of People, if they were to be hanged all, I'd find a Rope. I have one here in my Bonnet. I am a Jesuit, at the Service of the Holy See, and the Inquisition, and a Jesuit for my Life. Long live the Triple-horned People. If this should not be then the Jargonrie of the Quaker, I must acknowledge myself to be deceiv●d.  
The next Year, the King of France, who had discovered the secret Treaty which the Duke of Savoy had concluded with the Emperor and the King of Spain, earnestly pressed that Prince to declare himself, or if he would continue still a Neuter, (1690.) to put into his hands, for the assurance of his Word, the Citadel of Turin, Verve, and Verceil: To which the Duke had no mind to consent; because he knew it would have visibly subjected him under the power of a Master, who has not the Reputation of being very tractable. Constrained therefore to resolve one thing or other, he chose the best course, I mean, the least evil of the two. For in that Conjuncture, he had no choice to make that was positively good. And in the short time of his entering into the War, he had experimentally found, by the loss of Savoy, how unfortunate a weak Prince is, whose Territories serve as a Barrier between two potent Monarches. Till then, all things succeeded the best that could be for the King. He had been victorious at Sea against the Hollanders, who were reduced to such an unhappy Condition, that hardly a Ship had escaped, had not the Night favoured their Retreat. 'Tis true, that tho' in that Engagement the French Pleet had all the Advantage, the Dutch won all the Honour. For I believe 'twas never known, that Two and twenty Men of War should fight so long, and so furiously, against a Fleet of above Fourscore Sail, while the English Fleet, under the Lord Torrington, looked on all the while, and did nothing.  
In Flanders, the Duke of Luxemburgh had defeated Prince Waldeck; at which time the Confederates lost above 5000 Men, not counting in the Prisoners, of which there were a great Number.  
But, in the Conclusion, what use did the French make of these Victories? Did they take one Town in Flanders? Did they make any Attempt upon England? Nothing of all this: only the Chevalier Tourville burned two or three fisher-men's Cottages, and then, as proud as an Ass of a new Packsaddle, returned for Breast, to be Complimented for it. King William taught 'em another Lesson. He knew better how to make His Advantage of His Victory over K. James, or rather, over Tyrcennel and Lauzun. For as for K. James, he had packed up his Baggage, so soon as he saw the Combat grow warm. He's not so improvident to thrust himself into an Army in the heat of a Fight: 'tis a little too much for common Nature to endure. However it were, King William having passed the Boyne, in despite of His Enemies; and, which was worse, having put 'em to the Rout, made Himself Master of Drogheda, Dundalk, Dublin, Waterford, etc. And had not foul weather come on too fast, had taken Limerick, their last Retreat. But the Conquest of that City was reserved till the next Year; for the Earl of Athlone, who took it Octob. 3. 1691. and granted the Governor Mr. Boesselot very honourable Conditions.  
This last Misfortune threw K. James into utmost Consternation, so that he knew not what measures to take. He often bewailed himself to Father la Chaise, whom he could not choose but look upon as one of the principal Artificers of his Misfortune, tho' he would not seem to take notice of it. What shall I do, and what will become of me, said he to him one day, transported with grief, unfortunate Prince as I am? Chased from my Kingdoms, hated by my Subjects, abandoned by all the World, and pitied by No Body. Oh! how dear has my Easiness cost me! added he, casting a wistful Look upon the Father, wherein there was much to be read: It has cost me my Crown, my Honour, and the Repose of my Life. The compassionate Father, who shared in his grief as much as his Nature would give him leave, promised him to set all the most hidden Springs of the Jesuitical Engine at work, and that the whole Society should burn their Books, or restore him to his Throne. Only, said he, 'tis your Majesty's business to be willing to be served; do but concur never so little with us, and you shall see a sudden Turn of your Affairs. We have more than one String to our Bow: And if hitherto the Lion's Skin has not been sufficient to cover us, we must sow the Fox's Skin to it. And indeed, he kept so effectually to his word, that if Providence, that watches over things below, had not disappointed the pernicious designs of his Cabal, we had seen another Revolution, at least as strange as the former. The Jesuits therefore were ordered to take the Field, and furnished with good Letters of Exchange, away they hurried into England, where joining with those that still lay lurking in that Kingdom, and who intreagued them with the principal Jacobites, they hatched that terrible Conspiracy, wherein 'twas said so many Lords and Persons of all Conditions were deeply concerned, and which tended only to introduce the French into England, and into London, and so restore K. James to his Throne: which had that been all, perhaps it had been excusable in such as thought they owed their Allegiance to no other Sovereign; but they had suborned a Company of Hellborn Ruffians, who were to have assassinated King WILLIAM, while others at the same time were to have seized the Person of the QVEEN; to whom perhaps they would have given no better Quarter.  
When this Conspiracy was brought to perfection, and that the Jesuits were assured of their People, Father lafoy Chaise gave advice to K James, and told him, That now it was his time to act. I wou●d be willing to believe, that the King at first had an utter Abhorrency of so black an Enterprise, and that he had as great an Aversion as could be to engage himself in it; and it is to me the greatest Astonishment imaginable, that he should be capable of closing with it. Nevertheless 'tis too true, that he did consent at last, and that he persuaded the King of France to consent also, notwithstanding his declared abomination of Parricides. But, perhaps, they might conceal that Circumstance from him, tho' it rendered the Success most probable: for 'twas afterwards known, that they had much ado to overrule him, to grant K. James that new Succour which he demanded. He told 'em, There was nothing more uncertain than the Success of their Design, and that he had Employment enough for his Men to guard his own Dominions. But F. lafoy Chaise and Lausun giving him to understand, that it was the surest way to stop King WILLIAM, and hinder the Descent, with which he threatened France, he submitted to their Importunities; and after that, there was nothing discoursed of in France, but of the great Fleet that was setting out for K. James. True it is, it was considerable enough to have given King WILLIAM some trouble, and to have let the Confederates have known that France was not in so low a condition as many People believed she was.  
Four hundred Transport Ships were taken up for the embarking of 20000 Men, as well Horse as Foot, together with all sorts of warlike Ammunition, as Powder, Bullets, Cannon, Mortars, Bombs, Pickaxes, Ladders, etc. This Fleet was to have been guarded by twelve great Men of War, commanded by the Duke d'Estree, who had fitted 'em out at Toulon. In the mean time, to favour the Descent, and hinder any Succour that could come from Holland, Monsieur Tourville had Orders to cruise in the Channel with a Fleet of above a hundred Sail; and all this was ready in less than two months' time. So that upon the 29th of April, K. James, who was arrived at la Hogue, began to embark his Men, after he had carefully visited all the Ships of Burden; and three days after they were ready to set Sail, only they stayed for d'Estree's Squadron, and a favourable Wind. But he being surprised by violent Storms, that threw two of his great Men of War upon the Coasts of Africa, and very much shattered others, could not possibly observe his time.  
Some Weeks before, K. James had published a Manifesto, which he called, A Declaration of the King of Great Britain, to all his faithful Subjects .. The substance of which, imported an Exhortation to the English, to join with him against the Prince of Orange, as he there called him; promising to maintain their Liberties and Privileges, and the Religion of the Church of England: And telling 'em withal, that there would never be any Peace in Europe till his Restoration; for that then he should, by his mediation and good Offices with the most Christian King, be able to procure it.  
He also wrote a Letter to the Officers and Seamen aboard the Fleet, promising 'em the full payment of their Arrears, and to continue 'em in their employment. Together with another to the English Lords, inviting 'em to Paris, to be present at the Queen his Wife's Labour: for the removing all the Suspicions, and destroying all the false reports which his Enemies had raised touching the Birth of his Son, whom he called, Prince of Wales.  
However this Letter wrought upon very few, and in all probability they that went lost their labour too; for the Queen was brought to Bed so suddenly, that the Duchess of Orleans, who was ordered by the King to be at her Delivery, could not come time enough, though she drove with all speed from St. Clou, so soon as she had notice of it; which put some jealousies into that Princess' Head.  
Thus all King James' Hopes were blasted in the bud, and at a time when they promised so fair. For his Fleet was in the best condition in the world: his men lusty and bonny; he wanted nothing of Necessary Ammunition, even to the Spade and Mattock. But notwithstanding all this, overwhelmed with despair, he was forced to stay at la Hog●e, not being able to set sail by reason of contrary Winds, that continued a long time, attended with Storms and Tempests so furious, as wracked a good part of his Vessels upon the Coasts. Which gave the Queen of England time so discover the Conspiracy: who immediately with an extraordinary prudence gave out all necessary Orders for preventing the ill Consequences of it, as well by imprisoning the chief Conspirators here, as by disarming all suspected Persons. Moreover she set forth two Proclamations, the one for calling the Parliament together, the other commanding all Catholics to departed the Cities of London and Westminster, and not to come within ten M●les of either. She also sent considerable Forces toward the Coasts where the Descent was most to be feared, and reinforced the Garrisons in the Islands of Guernsey and Jersey: So that in a little time the Kingdom was quite out of all danger.  
The Jesuits were astonished when the News arrived in France. They had taken their measures so exactly, that they thought it impossible they could ever miscarry; yet saw the terrible disappointment of all their lewd Contrivances, to the eternal shame and ignominy of the Complotters.  
But in regard the ignominy more nearly concerned the two Kings, than the Society, their vexation was much the greater. They had wearied their men, expended vast sums, lost several Vessels, and after all, were enforced ●o land their men again, and to mind their own defence against a powerful Navy which the English and Dutch had set to Sea. Thereupon the men were disimbarked, and King James remained at Cherburg, loaden with his own Misfortunes; so far from being abated, that they were more ponderously augmented by the loss sustained in the Engagement between Admiral Russell and Tourvile, the success of which was such as all the world knows. And then it was, that K. James began to be looked upon there with an evil Eve, every Body beholding him as the Principal cause of the misfortunes of Christendom, and throwing upon him and his fatal Star the ill success of the War against the English. More than this, all people of worth, that had before lamented him in his Misfortune, could no longer retain the same kind sentiments for him, since he had so wickedly enbarqued himself in such an Infamous Conspiracy. Nevertheless instead of acknowledging the Foulness of it, he engaged himself soon after in another as bad, if not worse than the former, with Barbesieux, and Madam de Maintenon, as may be seen at large in the Trial of Grandvalt, who undertook to assinate King William in Flanders, and in those Reflections that came out afterwards upon that Horrid Conspiracy.  
'Tis a sad thing that in France, where there is so good a Government, there should be such Monsters to be found. They are not so common in our Countries, and least of all among the Huguenots. Quite the contrary, they are the declared Enemies of such Assassinations, so far from laying hold upon the base Assistances of Subornation and Parricide, that they have always rejected 'em with scorn and horror, when they have been offered.  
That which happened upon this occasion at Rotterdam in Holland is very remarkable. There arrived in that City out of France a certain Benedictin Monk, with a design, as he said, to turn Protestant. The first man to whom he addressed himself was M. Jurieux, a Minister well known to all the world, to whom he made known a desire of embracing his Religion. Jurieux, who presently suspected him to be some fickle-headed Fellow, that had quitted his Order, only to withdraw himself from the Austerities to which it obliges him, in hopes to get some Pension from the States, as it frequently happens, made him answer, That he could not be too much commended; but that it behoved him to be careful of doing any thing unadviseably in a Business wherein he could not deceive God, without miserably deceiving himself. The Monk replied That it was not a thing which he had but lately considered of; That, God be thanked, he had knowledge and discretion enough, to distinguish Truth from Falsehood; And that at last, after he made Religion his Study for many Years, he was convinced, that the Roman Catholic Religion signified nothing, but the Reformed was the only Procession of Faith wherein a man could be saved: And to show that he spoke not without Book, he presently alleged to him several solid Arguments.  
In this Posture things continued for some days, till Monsieur Jurieux, desirous to sound the bottom of his heart, touched him in the most sensible part, and asked him what course of Life he intended to live, when he had made a public Cenfession of his Faith? For in short, said the Minister to him, there is nothing more commonly done in this Country by People of your Coat, and the State is so burdened with the vast number of Refugees, that they have much a do to relieve 'em, so that you must advise with yourself how to provide for an honest Livelihood, either by the labour of your hands, or by some other way. The Monk replied, That that Consideration never needed to trouble him, for he came not to be a Burden to the Church; for that he had wherewithal to maintain himself. Which very much startled Monsieur Jurieux, who could not apprehend how a Monk that quitted his Convent to change his Religion, could have wherewithal to subsist, with out begging; and began to suspect him for a Spy. Which the other perceiving, confessed ingeniously, to undeceive him, That before he fled the Convent, he had found out a way to rob the Community of a considerable. Sum of Money, and to bring it along with him. My Father, said he, gave 'em a great deal of Money when I took the Habit upon me against my Will, and I thought I might with a safe Conscience make myself Master of what was my own. This free Confession surprised M. Jurieux much more, who after that, had never any good opinion of him. But he had far worse sentiments of him some few days after, when the Minister put it a little too close upon him: It behoves me, Sir said he, to tell you all; nor could I think to whom better to make my addresses then yourself. I have a design to deliver the Church of God from the greatest Tyrant that ever was upon the Earth. Jurieux, astonished, asked him what deliverance and what Tyrant he meant? The King of France, replied the Monk, whom I will kill with my own hands, provided I may have that encouragement in this Country which I expect. M. Jurieux trembled at the Proposal, and repulsed him with indignation, ask him where he learned that the Protestant Religion ever authorised Assassinates? telling him with all it was the Doctrine of the Schools from whence he came, but that the Reformed had always abhorred, as Traitors and Villains, those that taught or practised it, and so saying thrust him out a Doors. He was no sooner gone, but in came a friend of M. Jurieuxes, who perceiving him in some disorder asked him the reason of so much unwonted disturbance in his Countenance: He thereupon told him in short the story, as it lay. Upon which his friend put him in mind of the error he had committed in not stopping the Fellow, admonishing him, that it was a matter of great consequence. So that M. Jurieux, upon second thoughts, acquainted the Sheriffs with it, who committed the wretch to Prison the same Evening. After that, the States wrote to the King of France and gave him information of the tragical design which the infamous Ruffian had projected; assuring him with all, that though they were at Wars with his Majesty, yet they were so far from approving any thing so wicked and Treacherous, that they were ready to inflict the utmost severity of Justice upon the proposer. To which purpose they thought it their duty, to detain the Traitor, till they knew his Majesty's farther pleasure.  
This was altogether Generous, Great and Noble, and merits Immortality among men of worth and Virtue: but the Advice was not received as it ought to have been. So f●r from that, that M. de Montauzier, to whom the Letter was directed, returned an answer, as harsh and surly, as it ought to have been obliging. For he sent 'em word, That the King so little minded Parricides, and those that disclosed 'em, that he knew very well, that if they could have attempted any thing against his Person, they would have done it long ago; but that, thanks be to God, he had a good Guard that secured him from that danger.  
I am at my wit's end, when I consider that such an Answer should come from a King so Great and Generous, and for whom I have so much love and respect. Should it have been sent from the King of the Wild Arabs, or the Can of the Tartars, I should not have wondered; but from a Most Christian King! It vexes me to the Soul. This is doing Virtue little ●ustice: and ancient Pagan Princes, as much Heathens as they were, had more of Honour in 'em.  
I have stayed somewhat long upon this Point; to show that England and Holland quite disgrace and shame France, which at all times has produced these Monsters, and Courtiers that solicit and encourage 'em, as we have lately seen in the business of Granval.  
That which is the greatest wonder as to that Conspiracy, is, that the Jesuits appear not to have any hand in it. That the Criminal, who charged several considerable Persons, in his Interrogatories, says not one word against them, which makes many People believe, that they were no way concerned in it. But I that know the humour and the morals of those Fathers, know what I have reason to think. There is a French Proverb that says, a Workman is known by his Workmanship: and it can never be better applied then to this occasion. That piece of Villainy came infallibly out of their Shop. And indeed to whom can it be better attributed then to people who have rendered themselves famous by several attempts of the same Nature; and have composed whole Books to justify the Legality of Assassinating Heretic Kings. Add to this, M. de Maintenon is la Chaises intimate, and she good Woman would hardly have consented to such a piece of Treachery, without the Father's privity and advice. Beside the furious desire that he and his Society have to reinthrone a Prince, who only lost himself by adhering so much to their Counse●s. The Jesuit la Chaise, adove all, is the most capable of such a design, and I shall never forget an interlocutary discourse between him and the Duke of Coaslin, with which I will conclude my Book. 'Twas a little after the Duke of Savoy had declared against the French. The Duke was remonstrating to him, how much the Confederates were superior in Number, the losses sustained in Ireland, and the little likelihood of long maintaining the War with such an inequality of Forces. For in short said he Reverend Father, the King makes his last Efforts at the beginning of the War, he has laid Tax upon Tax, Impost upon Impost; he has created an infinite number of Offices never heard of before. The Communities and Corporations, as well Ecclesiastic as Secular, have contributed several times beyond their strength: in short, they have pillaged the Altars, and despoiled 'em of all their Ornaments. Tell me seriously Father do you believe, that France is an inexhaustible Mine of Money? No, without doubt, the bottom will disclose itself sooner than you think for; and than it will come to pass, that the King being no longer able to pay his men, nor to defray the prodigious expense he is forced to be at, as well by Sea as by Land, we may expect to see the Germans come and press the Vintages of our Campagne Grapes, while the English on the other side invading our Coasts, despoil and ransack all our lovely Provinces, that for so many years have not known what War means. We are not come to that yet, replied the Father, interrupting him, and before that come to pass, there are a great many Engines that will be set at work. I believe it, replied the Duke, but our mischiefs, it may be, will befall us, before they have done working; in that case, Father, What secret will you find out, to expel 'em from our Territories? What secret? answered the Father in a heat, you are too hasty, hold a little, there is still a remedy for all things, good Monsieur le Duke; and let one word suffice for all, that if the King of Spain were dead, 'twould be no difficult thing to divide this formidable Union, which you stand so much in dread of. I leave it to the judgement of oothers, what he meant by this: For, for my part, I tremble to unfold my conjecture. Nevertheless I was willing to repeat his own words, to show that there is nothing which we ought not to be afraid of from that abominable Society, which God Almighty seems to tolerate to be the Scourge of his Church.  
FINIS.