THE Mercury-Gallant: Containing Many True and Pleasant RELATIONS Of what hath passed at PARIS, From the First of January 1672. Till the KING'S Departure thence.  
Translated from the French.  
LONDON: Printed by T. R. and N. T. for Dorman Newman at the King's Arms in the Poultry, and Jonathan Edwin at the Three Roses in Ludgate-street, 1673.   

To my much honoured Friend, George Bowerman Esquire.  
SOme men (not so good as you) might perhaps think that while I have thus long been unfortunately hindered from paying the respects due to your many good Offices and Kindnesses, I have blotted them quite out of my memory, and become utterly undeserving both of them, or any future Favour; and there may possibly some Reasons be urged for the entertainment of such suspicions: but I am more than half confident they cannot at all have reached you: for as your Kindnesses were free and unconstrained, out of your own pure and natural Goodness, so I am bound to believe they were accompanied with a Judgement which cannot easily think itself deceived, because it were both a sin and shame it should be.  
And therefore to endeavour the best I can to disperse any such Clouds that may be gathering, I have taken this course to let you perceive that I have preserved a Remembrance of You and your Kindnesses, and am meditating of them, even when you perhaps may believe they are least in my Thoughts; and though this be the miserablest way in the World to requite Courtesies, and can no way form an Aquittance for any Obligation, yet at worst 'tis an Acknowledgement, which generous Minds use to receive in good part, and where they find it, think the Defection of a Larger Satisfaction, proceeds rather from Misfortune than Fault.  
As such then, Please to accept this small Present I now send you, which when in the Original, was thought worthy of being presented unto the FRENCH KING: and was a Book He Himself passed the Licence for under His Seal, when He officiated as His own CHANCELLOR.  
I will not prevent You with its Contents: Let them speak for themselves. Only thus much I will say, That in my Judgement it may be as Useful for This Horizon as That for which it was Calculated. And if the Pleasant Stories contained in it, shall give You and other Gentlemen that shall peruse it, any Divertisement, I shall have received my Satisfaction, and have no more to addle, but to beg you to value me still, as one that will ever be,  
SIR, Your most faithful and most humble Servant, J. D.   

THE French Bookseller TO THE READER.  
I Believe now I have hit on a Book will please all the world, because of the diversity of matter it contains. Those who are wholly addicted to Romantic writings, will here find Stories, though true, yet as pleasing and divertisant, as in any of the most exquisite Books of that Kind; the curious, and the Country Gentleman, and the Stranger, who never had the least knowledge of many persons of high birth, and extraordinary worth, will in this Volume, and those shall follow it, find the springs of their Renown, and what has made them esteemable. To know the value of any person you shall only need to turn over the Mercury-Gallant, and find your wish. Every Six months shall come forth a Volume, and in the second shall be set down the express time of their coming out, that people may know when to expect them; and hereafter we shall take the liberty to speak of Foreign Courts and Countries. The Author gins now to settle his correspondencies, and to search out the ways of the most considerable assistances, that nothing of Novelty may happen in the world, which his Letters shall not speak of. These are but Essays; but by what they are, you may judge what will follow: consider therefore this only as the design of a work which time will better polish. Those who know any thing of Gallantry, or worthy to be made public, may bring it to me, who will engage the Author to entertain with it the person to whom he addresses his Letters. I think myself likewise obliged to give notice, that this Book has no resemblance with the Journal des scavans; that treats only of such Books of Sciences as are published, and this of pretty Love-stories and intrigues, and of the worth of persons any way extraordinary, though their Pens never made them famous. It is not of necessity that all who have wit must be writers, there are many proofs to the contrary, and I will add, that if here any Books be spoke of, they are only Books of Gallantry, and of which the Journal says nothing, and that there is not in the whole Treatise twenty lines to that purpose.   

ERRATA.  
PAg. 21. l. 19 deal so. p. 22. l. 10. for with r. the. p. 3●. l. 7. for woman r. women. p. p. 33. l. 19 for foryed r. forced. p. 44. l: 1. for ballads r. Ballets. p. 51. l. 14. deal and. p. 63. l. 11. for seventy r. severity. l. 19 for. her r. his. p. 71. l. 3. for any r. an. p. 72. l. 12. for sweezing r. squeezing. l. 13. for his r. her. p: 73. l. 15. for unmatched r. unmasked. p. 74. l. 2. after these r. persuasions. l. 11. deal or l. p: 81. l. 16. for it r. its p. 63. l. 18. for Faries r. Farces. p. 98. l. 14. for Jestu r. Testu.   

THE TABLE OF Matters contained in this Treatise.  

Letter I. THe Design of the Work. The Story of the Neclace of Pearl. Honours paid to the memory of the late Madam de Montausier. The establishment of the Academy of Architecture, of which the Sieur Blondel is to be Professor.  
Letter II. The Story of the Green Silk Stockings. The reception of the Duke de Fevillade to the charge of Colonel of the French Regiment of Guards. Elegy of the Marshal du Plessis. Discourse on Bajazet a Tragedy of the Sieur Racines. Adventures happened to a French man at Constantinople, by which Turkish Gallantry may be judged of.  
Letter III. The Story of a Lady, chose rather to burn with her Husband, then see him disloyal. A Discourse on the Marriage of Bacchus, an Heroic Comedy, The arrival of Monsieur Courtine in Sweden. The departure of the Duke d'Estrees, extraordinary Ambassador at Rome.  
Letter IU. The History of the Family of hope. The public entrance of the Marquis de Villars into Madrid. Monsieur de Pompone's return from Sweden.  
Letter V. The Story of the maiden Soldier Elegy of the Duke of Coaslin.  
Letter VI. The Death of the Chancellor, and his Elegy. Praise of the Marquis of Louvoy. Death of the Princess of Conty.  
Letter VII. The Elegy of six Coansellors of Estate, and six masters of Request, chosen by the King to be Assistants to the Seal. An accident happened to a young Marchioness on the death of Monsieur Gaultier, the most excellent master of the Lute.  
Letter VIII. The Story of a man, who would believe he had made himself a Cuckold. Monsieur de Pachau's worth acknowledged by the King. Meffieurs de Vendosme their return from Italy. The King's choice of Monsieur de Camus for first Precedent of the Court of Aids.  
Letter IX. The death of Monsieur Despincha Marquis de Ternes. The Reception of the Cavalier d'Arquien into his father's Charge.  
Letter X. The death of Monsieur de la Motte Houdancourt. The promotton of Monsieur the Arch Bishop of Tholouse to the Cardinalate. Discourse on Ariana. a Tradegy of the younger Corneilles.  
Letter XI. The Story of the Closet of Looking-glasses. Discourse on a Comedy of Molieres, called les Femmes scavantes, or the wise Women.  
Letter XII. The occasien of the French Academies Voyage to Versailles, under the Conduct of the Arch Bishop of Paris. Monsieur the Marquis de Angeau his treating the Academy.  
Letter XIII. The Establishment of all the King of France his Forces, as well Horse as Foot, with the Names of all the Regiments, the Companies they contain, and the number of their Men.  
Letter XIV. Discourse of the Waters, Gardens, and new embellishments of Versailles, with the Names of the Statuaries.  
Letter XV. The Praises of Cardinal de Retz. The Estates of Britain presented by Monsieur the Duke of Chaune. the Duke of Bethune mode Lieutenant General of Picardy, and the Duke de Duras Captain of the Guards du Corpse.  
Letter XVI. The Institution of the Academy Des belles Lettres, with the names of the Academians. An account of the jugenuity of Gas, Madam the Marquis of Deshoulieres Spaniel. The Death of Monsieur de Morangis. Praises of the Baron of Schonborn, Nephew to the Elector of Magence, and bis extraordinary Envoy. The Entrance and Audience of Conde de Molina extraordinary Ambassador from Spain, with Observations thereupon.  
Letter XVII. An account of the new Modes, as well for Men and Women, as for the furniture of the house. The Marriage of the premier Presidents Son, to Madamoiselle Chaluces. The King's choice of Physicians, Discourse on the Journal des scavans.  
Letter XVIII. The Names of the General Officers of the Army. The Names of the Ships, and Commanders of the French Kings Navy Royal.  
Letter XIX. Discourse on several Books of Gallantry. The Namcs of the Authors quoted by Monsieur Menage in his Book entitled. Observations on the French Tongue. The Speech of the College of Physicians to the three principal Physicians. Observations on the Kings giving the Seals to Monsieur d'Aligre. The departure of the Baggages of the Army. Discourse on the preparation of a Mausoleum, of which Monsieur de Bru● is the designer. The Audience of the several Ambassadors and Residents of the King; as also of the Sovereign Courts and Provost of Merchants. The King's departure, some words much in Mode; the story of Megius, and his Companion, or the Philosopher's Stone.    

THE MERCURY GALLANT.  

Letter I.  
Madam,  
I Needed not have been put in mind of the promise I made you at your going from Paris, to send you often an account of such Novelties as were worthy of the curiosity of the most ingenious persons of that Country, which is like for so long a time to be made happy with your residence. They which have the person continually in their thoughts, seldom forget their promises. I doubt not Madam, but you understand so well what that means, that I need explain it no further. Proceed we therefore to our News, or rather first, to the order I have resolved to observe in giving you these accounts. I will punctually write to you once in eight days, and then give you the most particular and curious relation I can of all that has happened in the week aforegoing. Sending you things, which the Gazettes give no account of, or at least not so full and clear a one. The most minute things that pass here shall not escape my Quill: You shall have all Deaths and Weddings of consequence, with such Circumstances as may create that delight in such news, which they have not in themselves. I will endeavour to unravel the truth of all great actions, where valour shall make itself observable in the Army, and will often lay naked before you things which fame gives but at random; because she not staying to search the depth of them, the first rumours she spreads are for the most part short of truth. I will not forget to tell you who receive favours from our great Monarch; he gives with so endearing a grace, that ●hough his gifts are always considerable, ●he obliging manner with which he gives, ●reeds often as much delight in the hearer; ●s the magnificence of his gifts in the receiver; and whereas there often happens pro●eedings so extraordinary, and so full of intrigue, that the best invented Romances ●ome short of them, I shall nor fail to divertise you with them, and send you the ●eal Circumstances, which are seldom known but to persons who make diligent ●arch after them. Curiosity bringing to Paris ●ot only many brave people from all Provinces of France, but likewise numbers of stranger's. I will give you advice of the ●orth of those attract any admiration. I ●ill send you all such witty pieces as have ●y reputation, as Songs, Verses, or o●●er such like works. I will send you the success of all new Plays, and what Books 〈◊〉 Gallantry are Printed: I say of Gallan●●y, because I pretend not to speak of ●●ose which concern Arts or Sciences, not being able to perform it so well as those who every fifteen days give us an account of them. But I will do somewhat more than I have yet promised, and often send you some new adventures in form of Histories. Paris is big enough to furnish me with them, and every day something considerable happens there, and those who make it part of their business to understand the Town often hear of strange adventures, and are sometimes witness to them: so that I fear not the giving you a new Story almost every week; and when Paris fails by chance to furnish me, I cannot doubt to learn somewhat divertsiing from the great number of strangers are continually in this City I will add to this all the News worth hearing from the Ruelle● Balls, or any meetings, and here with not omit the new Modes, the Country is generally well pleased to know them, nor can I readily t●ll any thing they more desire; I believe likewise you will be of my mind, that the Misses of Paris will often furnish me with pleasant subjects, and that all these things together and apart, will continually supply me with a sack full of news, wherewithal to entertain you: I shall yet meddle little with foreign news, or matters of State, and speak only of those great public news of which people discourse every where, who make no profession of understanding them; but as there is no news so public, but has something of privacy in it; I will send you the opinions of those who should know things best. If I prosecute my design, and you keep my Letters, they may for the future serve as Memories to the curious, and many things may be met with here, cannot be found elsewhere, because of the diversity of the matter; but it matters not much whether they be useful to others, so they divertise you; that's my only aim and therefore I begin with a pleasant Story before I enter upon the particularities of this week's news.  
A young gallant coming some days since to visit a fair Lady, to whom he had no other pretence of love, then to keep himself it talk (for 'tis a most ordinary practice here, and the most part of our young people, if they be put out of the road of talking a little love to the Ladies, and praising their beauties, have not a word to say for themselves) This young blade, who I am telling this story of, having run over, and over all the Lessons he had learned, in praising every particular charm of the beauty he came to wait on, and at last quite stranded himself, not knowing any other way to entertain her; this lovely person tired with hearing the same things again and again, first slumbered a little, and at last fell fast asleep, though she designed it not; but having wearied herself the night before at a Ball, and relishing so ill now the tedious divertisement of him that entertained her, sleep seized her unawares. The Gallant had a fate quite contrary; the beauty of this fair sleeper, and the motion of her Breasts as she breathed, awakened his Senses; he viewed her with a great deal of passion, and his heart oft told him, he ought to improve the opportunity; but whilst he stood gazing, and not knowing what to resolve, he cast his Eyes on a Necklace of Pearl, worth twenty thousand Livers, which she had about her Neck, and observed, That the Ribbon which tied it, did as it were present itself to him. This idle lover, whose name I will conceal under that of Cleontes, was immediately surprised with imaginations quite contrary to those he had had but a minute before. He had about two days since lost all his Money at play, he was naturally expensive, and already owed so much, that his credit was almost cracked; besides, he was young, and had always been a little inclinable to knavery, and all these encouragements meeting together, soon form in him a temptation, utterly different from the former; and now all his amorous glances were cast at the Necklace. After having a good while viewed it, he turned his eyes towards the door, his thoughts began all at once to run one way, but yet he could not fix them; he gets up, walks two or three turns about the Chamber, comes to the Stairs head to see if any body might perchance be coming; but finding all things favouring his design, returns to Belisa; (for so I shall call this fair Lady in the sequel of the story.) He was no sooner come nigh her, but he grew as stiff as a statue, and stood like one that had lost all sense and motion, making reflections on the action he was about. I am here alone said he to himself, and none else can be charged with the Necklace but myself, and if I go away without saying any thing, I conclude myself guilty. If I stay after I have taken it, they will make such strict search, that they will find it about me, hid it where I can: I had much better let it alone, and relinquish so vile an attempt. But if I let it alone (replied he suddenly to himself) can I ever in reason hope fortune should again do any thing for me, and twenty thousand Franks will be a very convenient sum for me, he then began to cast up in his head how he would dispose those twenty thousand Livers. He would pay but few debts, but instead of that he would put himself into a magnificent Equipage, as to , buy such and such Points and Laces, and put his Train into the finest Liveries in the World, and with such a tempting adjustment, he though himself secure of the Conquest of at least a dozen hearts of those gay women, who are taken with fine outsides, and are sooner surprised with gaudery then worth, who are so sottish to think he cannot be a worthy man, who has not brisk accoutrements, or keeps but a modest train. Cleontes having thus disposed the twenty thousand Livers in his Coxcomb, takes the Necklace; but he was no sooner master of it, than he felt a trembling over all his body, and seized with a violent fear of being surprised with it about him he resolved to return it: He was just about executing what his secret repentance had determined, when it came into his head to swallow the Necklace, which consisted of two and thirty Pearls. 'Twas a hard task this, but his greedy desire of so much money brought it to effect. When he had swallowed the last Pearl, he began to be as much troubled what to do with the Ribbon; he was a good while studying how to dispose it, and at length concluded to cut it into such little scraps as were scarce perceptible. You must think he was a good while doing all this, and therefore may the easier believe Belisa awakened almost as soon as he had done, she asks presently for her Necklace. Cleontes denies the having taken it, she thought he only intended to make her search for it, and very gallantly turns all into a Jest, but was strangely troubled when she perceived he still denied it, will all that seriousness men use when they would have what they say thought truth. If you will (said he to her) command another suit of  to be given me, I will strip myself before any body you shall name, and leave mine with you; nay, they shall have my very Shirt to search. Belisa was in more than a peck of troubles. Certain she was, she had the Necklace on before she fell asleep, and none but Cleontes had been in the Chamber, and yet the Necklace was not to be found, though she had made as diligent a search, as she could, and a search suitable to the greatness of her loss. Cleantes urged her to search his Pockets; she believed since he pressed it so much, she might chance find it there, and that he only jested all this while to vex her a little, she resolves therefore to satisfy him, with hopes to satisfy herself; but just as she had put in her hand, Clidamant enters into the Room, and thinks she was embracing him. This Clidamant was one of those privileged lovers, who may come in without knocking, or sending word who they are. 'Twill be an easy matter Madam for you to believe, he did or said something, that jealous lovers use to do, when they think they find Mistresses false, he could not restrain himself, and Cleontes seemed to rejoice rather than be troubled at it, he had hopes this new alarm, might suppress all farther clamour about the Necklace, and having some bravery (for heart none can think he wanted, after a Cordial of two and thirty such Pills as he had swallowed) he told Clidamant he would go forth, and there expect him to decide their difference. The jealous man was about to follow him, when Belisa stopped them both, and told the whole adventure. Clidamant thought it so strange, that he could not at first believe it; but his jealousy made him determine to try all ways imaginable, to discover whether Belisa had told him truth. He was studying how to effect it, when three or four of the afflicted Ladies friends, and of Clidamants acquaintance, came into the Room; they soon were told how the whole case stood. Their amazement was great, but it was yet made greater, when they saw nothing could persuade Cleontes to tell what was become of the Necklace. Entreaties and threaten were both employed, but all to no purpose, and the afternoon was quite spent without making any discovery. Belisas' grief for the loss of her Necklace increased more and more, as her hopes of ever finding it decayed, she being assured, that Cleontes must have stole it, and hide it where ever it was, having either cast it into some by Corner, or thrown it to some body out of the Window. The manner in which Belisa spoke this, made all the Gentlemen believe it to be true, and therefore they resolved to put it to the utmost test, and as soon as it was quite dark they sent for a Sack which was no sooner got, but seizing all four on Cleontes, they violently thrust him into it, and having tied it fast, carried him to the Window. That Window was two Stories high, and answered to a Court, in which lay some square stones for building. As soon as they had him at the Window they threatened to throw him down; if he would not confess what he had done with the Necklace, and at last so terribly frighted him, that he owned he had it, promised to restore it; but desired time, 'twas granted him, but on condition he should tell what he had done with it, he stumbled at that a great while; but finding himself pressed too hard, at length confessed the whole truth. Whereupon they presently took him out of the Sack, stripped him in spite of his teeth, and laid him in a sumptuous bed. And immediately one of the Gentlemen went, and fetched a vomit, which he took care should be strong enough, and by its operation you'll believe it was so, Cleontes refused a great while to take it, but at last out of the fear of the scandal, he submitted; for they threatened if he did not, to carry him to Prison, and to publish every where that he was a Thief, he had many doleful reachings and strainings, and suffered infinite pangs and gripe; but at last (though at several times) he brought up one and thirty of the Pearls: There was one yet behind; he offered to pay double the value for it, but Clidamont would have him take the other Potion, which put him to mighty torment before he could bring up the two and thirtieth Pearl, however at length it came, and they dismissed the poor unfortunate wretch, who went away purged to the life, and more cast down then he could have been after six months' sickness. This Madam, is an adventure happened some days since, and is yet known to few, there is something me thinks so new in it, that I dare believe you have scarce read the like; but let us proceed to more public news.  
Though I have no intention at other times to entertain you with the Funeral honours paid to those, who are of birth eminent enough to be spoke of it the Gazet, and that I design not to trouble you with reading of public News, unless they be extraordinary; yet I will not omit observing what there is of novelty, in those affairs, which else seem fitting to be passed over in silence, because of the little pleasure taken in reading them. I believe the news of the service performed at Roûens for the late Madam de Montausier is of the number; and that it being so easily to be guest at, (it being so customary a thing to pay Funeral Rites to the dead) I might, and aught to have let it pass; and yet the extraordinary worth of this Honourable defunct, and the particular esteem Monsieur Pilot premier Precedent of the Parliament of Roûen had for her, occasioned these sad duties to be celebrated with some Circumstances worthy remark, and though that honourable and renowned body never used to accompany dead Corpse, on the like Ceremony; they would needs condescend to do somewhat extraordinary to honour the memory of a person so esteemable for her worth and piety, as the late Madam de Montausier.  
I know not whether it be in my Rule to tell you, that the Abbot of Novalles hath lately made appear his great wit and judgement in the Sorbonne, even to the astonishment of all the old Doctors; you will say perhaps reading this news, That if I give you an account of all that maintain a Thesis, I shall stuff my Letters with things not at all curious; but when you shall understand, that he did in his first act on matters of Divinity, what others do not till their last, you may perhaps think this Circumstance makes the news worth sending, and it may induce you to conceive a fancy for this worthy Abbot, which may make you distinguish him from others, when you hear him spoke of; for since it is one of my designs in writing you News, to give you a knowledge of the deserts of the most considerable persons in France; I will let slip no occasion of speaking of them, and if the News I may sometimes send you of them, have nothing weighty enough in itself, to make you understand their particular value; yet the Eulogies I shall give them will at least make you know them: And thus the least curious News may be acceptable.  
The King continuing daily to do something considerable for the glory of France, has caused to be opened here some days past an Academy of Architecture established by his Majesty, and Sieur Blondel, the King's Professor in the Mathematics, and who is likewise to officiate in the same function, in this gave great Testimonies of his wit and judgement in an Oration he made in praise of the King on this occasion. I know not Madam whether you are acquainted with this eminent person; but he passes in the judgement of most men, for a very able man, he has traveled much, seen both the Indies; had many different employments, all which he has discharged with Honour, has commanded Ships, and 'tis to him that Paris is obliged for the design of the Course, at which he continually labours, and which will beautify the City from Port Richlein to Port. St. Anthony. This Madam is all the news I can give you this week, I hope within eight days to send you something more divertizing, and entertain you about a Piece ready for the Theatre, which friends to the Author mightily cry up. It has not yet been acted, but without doubt they have reason for wh●t they say, and the success will be answerable to their judgement of it.  
Paris Jan. 1. 1672.   

Letter II.  
SInce I have proposed to begin the weekly news, I have tied myself to write as often as I can, with foam extraordinary adventure; you have here Madam a true one, which will doubtless please you.  
A young Sovereign Gallant, and amorous, being one day walking without the ordinary confident of his Gallanteries, after having studied upon something for a while, hastily asks for him, which obliged all that Prince's Courtiers to look out every was for Cleodates. (so will I name that favourite, or rather under that name speak of him in the Story, since you have given me an Item, that I should put feigned names to all the Gallant Adventures, I shall get to send you) Philemon, a young Cavalier, more solicitous than any of the rest, to make his Compliments to the favourite, was mosthappy, and thought himself the more so; because as he imagined his master had particularly addressed himself to him to seek him; he flies to Cleodates' house, which had a back door directly opening toward the Prince's Palace, and which he found only put to, he must have gone a great way about to the ordinary Gate of entrance, and there to no purpose asked for Cleodates: For that Cavalier no less Gallant than his Master, whose Confident he was, had gone out alone, and taking a turn about, came in again by that private door, without being perceived by any of his people. This way than Philemon went in without meeting any body; he goes up a little pair of Stairs which stood in a by Corner; but which he knew very well, this not being the first time he had tried that passage, and came presently to the Chamber, where he thought he might find Cleodates; but seeing no one there, he was forced to knock at a little Closet door stood by it. After having knocked a good while, it came into his head to look through the Keyhole; for he thought he heard some body within, he presently observed Cleodates kissing a Lady, but could not discover who she was, her face being hid from him; only he took notice she had Green Silk Stockings on, and very rich Garters He easily guessed by their not answering nor stirring up and down, that they would not have it known they were in that Closet and that they would not open the doo● for any one whatever. Philemon hereupon returns with intention to tell the Prince h● could not find Cleodates; he did so indeed but 'twas in a way made him suspect there was a mystery in it; for he could not forbear laughing at uttering his name. Th● Prince would needs know the reason, an● very earnestly required it, he was soon sa● satisfied for Sovereigns not being to be refused any thing; Philemon told him all h● had seen. This adventure which one would have thought should have diverted the Prince, begot a dumps in him, made Philemon a hundred times repent his weakness in discovering a thing he observed grieved his Master, and might be prejudicial to Cleodates. This Prince loved a young beauty in his Court, and now grew suspicious his favourite might be his Rival; he asked Philemon if he knew the Lady he had seen by her Legs; Philemon was so ready to answer yes, that he had not time to consider how he might by it both displease his Master, and lose his Friend. The Prince replied, If that Lady were one of the Court he would know her  it were long, and at that instant obliged the Princess his Wife to send for all the Ladies of the Court; and as soon as they were come, proposed to them to mount immediately on horseback, and see a chase; some said they should have time given them to put shorter Coats, others were of a contrary opinion, The Prince could have wished it, that he might the better have seen their Stockings; but then he doubted they might in changing , change Stockings too; but whatever he feared, he was soon recovered of it, as you will hear by the sequel. This Prince, who was naturally Gallant, appeared so in this occasion, somewhat more so then usual, and talking pleasantly with all the Ladies, told them, that he would set them all on Horseback; you may easily guests what he meant by it, and that by this contrivance he only designed to discover the Lady with the Green Stockings. He had already seated a great many, without finding what he feared to find, when at last he discovered one of the delicatest Legs in the world, and on it a Green Silk Stocking. You will be as much surprised as he was Madam, when you shall understand, that it was upon his Mistress he found them; but 'tis no time to stand wondering now, or if you will wonder what you have yet to hear, will but amaze you will more. The Prince in despair, stretched on the extremes of love and jealousy, gave a shreck at the sight of those Stockings, and stood like one astonished; Philemon, who was still near him, perceiving the cause of his disquiet, told him in his ear, That the Stockings he had seen were of a deeper Green, and the Garters of another Colour. Thou wouldst abuse me (replied the Prince) only to assuage my grief; but if I find no other Green Stockings, I shall give no faith to any thing thou sayest. At these words he endeavered to appear Blithe and Gay, as he did before, and with a Countenance full of mirth and jollity, though his heart were heavy, proceeded to seat the rest of his Ladies on Horseback. He was come now to the very last, without finding any other Green Stockings but his Mistresses, and the fear he should fail of finding any other, hindered him from casting up his eyes on her whose Legs he only looked on, without knowing whose they were; he was much surprised to find Stockings and Garters both to be like those Philemon had described. Philemon, who thought of nothing more than relieving the Prince from the trouble he had put him, and making it appear he had no intention to deceive him, kept still his Eyes cast downwards; so that at the same time both he and the Prince cried out they had found what they sought for, if their joy were great, their amazement was no less, when lifting up their Eyes, almost both at a time they perceived. I believe you are very impatient now to know, and that your curiosity would be very burdensome to you, if I should long delay it. It was philemon's wife, which fight made him look as like a Coxcomb, as indeed he was. The Prince appeared as much amazed as he; but yet could not forbear laughing from the bottom of his heart. The Srory goes no farther, and since I have promised to write you nothing but truth, I will add nothing of my own, though it were easy to invent a thousand fine things on so delicate an occasion.  
Monsieur the Duke de Feûillade, of the illustrious house D'Buston so considerable, for the many Hero's issued from that Family; and for that great Master of Rhodes of the same name, and so renowned in his own person, and so well known in the Ottoman Empire, who after a thousand gallant Actions done for the Honour and Service of the King his Master, had the happiness to see the Infidels chased out of Hungary, after their being defeated by those brave French Troops he commanded, who following the Orders he gave them, and imitating his valour, defeated an almost innumerable Army, composed of the choicest Forces of the Musulmen; he, whose name is at this day so famous, through the whole Empire of the Turks, that same Mounsieur de Feûillade has been presented by the King with the charge of Colonel of his Regiment of French Guards, his Majesty did him the Honour to receive him in person into this Charge, which is so much the more glorious, because those who enjoy it, receive thereby the Honour's pavable to the Children of France. This Duke's Oath was received by the Marshal Duke Du Ple●sis, who was chosen out among all the Marshals in France who are Commissaries of His Majesty's Forces. This Marshal is famous for his great Employs, for many Towns and Battles won, for the Siege of Roses, where the Over flow of the Waters, and all the Inconveniences of a hard season, seemed to have conspired together to oppose his Success: yet though he assailed that City with fewer forces than defended it, his valour made the King Master of it, which his Majesty recompensed with the staff of Marshal of France. This great Captain is likewise famous for the gain of the glorious Battle of Rochel, which he won with so much advantage, and which decided the fortune of the Realm in a time wherein the Civil Wars had wrought so much confusion. 'Twas this Battle dispersed the Enemies of France, and made the frontiers of the Kingdom the Barriers against the Erterprises of the Revolted Party.  
Some days past was acted on the Theatre of the Hostel de Burgogne, a Tragedy called Bajazet, which has gained the repute of an excellent Work, and you perhaps will think it so, when you hear 'tis a Composition of Mounsieur Racines, since nothing but what is most accomplished comes from the Pen of that Eminent Author. The Subject of the Tragedy is Turkish, as the Author says in his Preface: I will tell in two words what I could learn of that Story from the Historians of the Country, by which you may judge of the Admirable Genius of Poesy, that without taking any thing elsewhere, could form so excellent a Tragedy.  
Amurath had three Brothers when he went to besiege Babylon, two he caused to be strangled, neither of which was called Bajazet, the third was saved from his fury, because he had no children to succeed in the Empire. This Grand Signior carried with him in that Voyage his favourite Sultaness. The Grand Vizier who was called Mahomet Bassa went likewise, as we may see in a relation writ by a Turk of the Seraglio, and translated into French by Mounsieur du Loir who was then at Constantinople; and this was that Great Vizier who began the assault of that famous Town towards the Levant, with the Governor of Greece, Ali Bassa, the Son of Arlan, and the Aga of the Janissaries with his Regiment. At his return he entered triumphantly into Constantinople, as his Master had done some days before. Yet the Author of Bajazet does ingeniously make him stay at Constantinople under the name of Achomat, to favour the designs of Roxana, who is here found in the Seraglio at Byzantium, though she were indeed in his Highness' Camp, and all this to raise Bajazet to the Empire, whose name is very well invented. The third Brother of Sultan Amurath which remained, and escaped his wrath, was called Ibrahim, whom this cruel Emperor had the barbarous thoughts of destroying in that extreme sickness which seized him, and of which he died, with design (say they) to leave for Successor the young Mustapha Capoudan Bassa his Favourite, whom he had given in marriage to an only daughter he had by his best beloved Sultaness. I cannot yield to them who think this piece expresses not enough of the Turkish nature. There are Turks truly Gallant; and since it pleases, no matter how; nor costs it more when we are feigning, to invent honest and gentile Characters, than those barbarous ones which agree not with the humour of the Ladies of our Age, whom 'tis a thing of the greatest Importance to please. Gallantry, Bravery, and Goodness, are not things without Turkish Examples; and we have a very pleasant History in a Letter of Mounsieur de Loir writ to Mounsieur de Charpentier in 1641, which its possible you would not be displeased if I should rehearse to you: some of it you shall have. He says, speaking of a Friend of his newly arrived at Constantinople:  
He was no sooner got hither, but within three days a Lady gave him private notice of the inclination she had for him; she caused one of her Companions to throw into his Windows Citrons stuck with Cloves, which are here the first Letters and Embassies of Love, and he finding the sweetness of being beloved, answered with the same fervency the passion of her that loved him. She was a young Turkish Damsel of very good quality called Zenakhoub, with whom he entertained an Amorous Commerce, of which the History sets down each particular. And surely if Adventures are thought the more pleasing the more hazardous they are, few can claim preferrence to this intrigue; and though yourself should impose silence on me, I cannot forbear telling what at last happened to him, which is an Adventure worth relating, and cannot be unpleasant in the reading. This rash man had often disguised himself like a Woman, to see his Love in Marriage-Assemblies, whither he was introduced by a Jew Woman entrusted with their secrets, and passed for a young Slave, she said she had lately bought; his Youth, his Knowledge in the Countrey-Language, and the love he was inflamed with, were a favourable Passport to him: But it was not long ere by an unheardof Boldness and strange Imprudence, going to see his Mistress in man's Attire, he was like to lose her, and be lost. Zenakhoub had a long time been sought in Marriage, which she had always concealed from this new Lover, resolving never to tell it him till it was impossible for her to hinder it longer, and now she found it unavoidable. She therefore sent one morning (very early) to seek her new Love, commanding him to come immediately with the Jew, whilst the Turks were at their prayers at break of day, for that she feared she should never more have an opportunity to speak with him. He was so shortened in time that he could not only not disguise his Sex, but had scarce leisure to hid his own Habits under a Vest, and to cover his Chin with a false Beard, and coming thus to Zenakhoub, was at his entrance amazed to find her in such a serious meditation, but was much more when with many sighs and interrupting sobs she told him of her Marriage, and that she only sent for him to take her last leave of him. He was astonished at first, not being able to speak a word, sadness had so seized his Soul: but during his silence, his Eyes gave evidence to Zenakhoub of the extreme Grief he felt within. At last, both having for a good while entertained each other by looks, Zenakhoub with a great sigh gave him notice 'twas time to part. I'll not tell you what they might say on this occasion, for besides the recital would be too long, I will ease you of the grief I felt, when he made me the Rehearsal, and you may imagine that, but you cannot think what happened to them: He held Zenakhoub fast by the hand, and he has sworn to me that he thought verily the fire of his kisses would have burnt her, if the tears he had shed from above, had not allayed and moderated their flame. To speak all in a word, that at last the violences of his love had transported him beyond those bounds of respect which that virtuous Maid had set him, and within which he had always kept; he would have kissed her mouth, but she who felt her Soul almost yielding to her Passion, and her Reason now at last gasp, fearing her Resistance would at length too weakly defend her Modesty, with a strange and sudden motion drew forth a Dagger she had at her Girdle, and presenting it to him, conjured him by all the most obliging Considerations, rather to take away her Life, than attempt to offend her Honour. All our Lover's heat at this was turned to Ice, but being again by little and little warmed with this Amorous Contestation, as he was about to disarm her, pressing down her hand, he struck the Dagger into her Thigh, so that what with the sight o● her Blood, and the other Agitations of her Soul, she fell into a swound. The shriek he gave, seeing her in that condition, was heard by the Woman of the House, who run in presently, to whom they could not refuse opening the Chamber-door, but before they got in, Zenakhoub's Nurse had shut up in an Alcove him that had been the cause of all this noise; and the blow having only razed the Skin, those that found it having carried Zenakhoub into a Balcony to give her fresh air, imputed it only to a little faint-heartedness. Mean time, some were run to look for her Mother, who came in great haste, and found her Daughter just recovering her spirits with the help of cold Water thrown into her face: but she was about to fall again into her swoon, upon seeing herself in her Mother's Arms, and in the doubts and fears she was in for her Lover. 'Twas well for her she was thought to be so weak, she had otherwise given too apparent Testimonies of the cause of her trouble; but before she was fully come to herself, she observed her Mother testified more kindness than anger, and judged both by it and by her lamenting her mishap, that she knew neither of the Author nor Cause. Yet she was not out of fear for her Lover, who for his part past the time no better, and heard no one come near the place where he was, but he imagined they came to him; and he gave himself over to discovery, when the Jew feigning to look out some , threw him a Woman's Habit to disguise himself in. I believe now that you would be glad to be rid of your fears you are in for him: and to that purpose it will be enough to tell you, that favoured by that disguise he got out of the house: but his love not thus satisfied, foryed him to another hazard again, to see Zenakhoub, before he left her for ever; and, which I almost tremble at when I but think of it, made him take the boldness to go in where she was, and to whisper something in the Jew's Ear, as if he had been a Slave sent to her about some business. If Zenakhoub's Mother had not been otherwise employed, or prepossessed with grief, or had taken the least notice how the Jew was astonished, and grew pale at his entrance, or how her Daughter changed Countenance, which on a sudden was all in a flame, it had possibly put any other thoughts into her head than what she feared, that this sudden change was a symptom of Zenakhoub's distemperature: But she suspected nothing, and the sick Lady having called the Jew to her, as if she desired some assistance from her, to help her to raise her head upon the pillow; she commanded her immediately to carry away that rash man, to give some ease to her Spirit tossed and perplexed betwixt Fear and Love. They departed immediately, and Zenakhoub's Wound being more favourable than hurtful, served only for a pretence to retard the Marriage.  
But let us return to the Author of Bajazet, whose Work has occasioned the recital of this Adventute. I have nothing to say to you of his Worth. It is so Great, that there is no place left on Parnassus' worthy to offer him. His Friends would seat him between Sophocles and Euripides, in whose Works Diogenes Laertius would make us believe Socrates had the greatest share in the sublimest parts: The Rivals of this French Euripides or Socrates, would I doubt not be willing to see him gone to those great Personages among the Greeks, though upon condition that his memory were as glorious as theirs ever deserved to be.  
Parish 9 January 1672.   

Letter III.  
I Cannot tell, Madam, whether my Letters have the good fortune to please you, but I assure you, I am very diligent to inform myself of the most curious Novelties, and most surprising Adventures; and I believe this wherewith I am about to entertain you, will appear no less wonderful than the former. It happened sometime since in one of the Provinces of this Kingdom, where it is yet the whole subject of Discourse.  
Celiantes a Person of Quality, handsome, witty, valiant, and who had given Evidences of his Judgement and Valour in an Age when others seem but to peep into the World, fell deeply in love with the young Lydiana. You may think now I am going to paint her out like a Heroine in a Romance, and intent to tell you she was the fairest Person in the World; but since I am to relate a true story, I will leave the Curiosity of those pretty Embellishments to the Ingenious Inventors of Romances, wherewith the pleasant Wits of France have often diverted the whole World. All that I can say for Lydiana's advantage, is, that she had a well-shaped Body, and had a great deal of Wit; and if she did not pass for a Beauty, she must needs have some pleasing Features, which though all the World could not find out, appeared so at least in the Eyes of her Lover, if it be true that Proverbs never lie. Lydiana was of Quality, and had a great Portion, and besides was to be Heiress to two of her Relations, who had the repute to be the richest men of their Country. You know Madam, that there cannot be much deceit; those that appear rich in the Country, are so indeed. Their Wealth appears to the Eyes of all the World, and their Lands are a substance not to be carried away in a night. Lydiana's great Riches, and the hopes of those great Inheritances like to fall to her, gained her an incredible number of Suitors of all Qualities, among whom Celiante appeared not the least passionate. Since she was not fair, and had the wit to know she was not so, she resolved to dispose her heart to him who mixed the least Interest and hopes of Gain with his Love. This was a hard thing to find out. Men know so well how to dissemble; and when there is Interest in the case, there are few but find presently the way to become Hypocrites. Lydiana after having the best she could examined them all, and tried them by a thousand cunning practices, believed Celiantes the honestest man of them all; and judging him the most upright and least covetous, thought she ought to dispose of her heart to him: He perceived her inclination towards him, which made him press forward his love the more, and he soon obtained what he wished; there can little resistance be found after such Resolutions as Lydiana's. The Intelligence form between them was soon found out by the rest of the Suitors of this Ingenious Lady, and her Relations were not long ignorant of it. The Choice of Lydiana's Heart agreed not with Theirs, they had not taken such precaution in making it as she had done, but the richest seemed to them most worthy to have her. I will not relate to you the crosses these Lovers met with, nor what Lydiana suffered between Love and her Friends; few Amorous Histories but will supply you with such Traverses. I will be satisfied to tell you, that after many Disputes the prudent Lydiana knew so well how to manage things with her Relations, that soon after they not only yielded she should not marry whom they had first pitched upon, but likewise consented she should espouse Celiantes. Nothing could be more happy than the first years of their Marriage, they loved like Lovers; nor was there ever seen a more perfect Union, which might happily have endured longer, if the Eyes of the young Elisa had not come to disturb their Content and Quiet. Never was there Woman more subtle, nor practised more Arts and Devices to please. She pleased indeed Celiantes unhappily for him, and knew how to allure him with so much Cunning and Artifice, that he lost by little and little all the love he had for his wife, he presently forgot his good Humour and Complaisance towards her, from thence passed to Indifference, and his Indifference soon turned to Neglect. Neither did mischiefs stop here, but as these Misses are not content with men's hearts, but only subject them to draw in somewhat else; Celiantes found himself insensibly engaged to make every day new Presents to Elisa, and that cunning Whore had such sly contrivances to bring occasions about, that they seemed as it were to present themselves. You may easily guests Lydiana bore not very patiently both the loss of Celiantes heart, and the consumption of their Estate. There were many storms about it, that made a thundering noise, but Lydiana loving her Husband passionately, still appeased all these vehemencies by a compliant submission. Till in the end things grew to that height of distress, she could no longer forbear, but was forced loudly to complain; for blows and ill usage followed his Indifference, Neglect, and waste of Estate. The Clamour Lydiana made, gladded instead of afflicting Celiantes, he took thence occasion to leave his Wife, and to go live with his Miss. Lydiana, who now began to believe she had not so much love as formerly for her Husband, because she had no reason to love him, was not sensible at once of all her Grief, and all her Love. Nay, now she began to think she might come to hate him, because she found her heart endeavouring to entertain a hatred of him: Yet again she would have some returns of kindness which made her endure all the most violent Torments of Jealousy, which at last threw her into so furious a despair, that at length she determined to execute what I am about to tell you. She feigned herself sick, and that she daily grew worse and worse, having corrupted a Doctor to aver the same thing. She desired then to see her Husband, as being unwilling to die till she were reconciled with him. He was sent for in haste to the Country, where he lived with Elisa: His Interest made him come with all speed and diligence, for he had yet some considerable things to hope from his Wife, if he made his peace with her before she died. He was no sooner arrived, but he begged her pardon, which she as soon granted him, at least in appearance; and they seemed the best agreed people in the World. After the second day she desired he would lie in her Chamber, and not at all leave her, he yielded to her request, and a Bed was set up for him near to hers. Short time after, she declared herself somewhat better, and that there was no necessity for any other than her Husband to lie in the room, 'twas thought she had something in private to say to him; so at last they consented, though with some opposition, for fear she might be taken ill in the night. She seemed extremely kind that evening to her Husband; but when he was fast asleep, she rises and hides the Key of the Door, than places some Faggots in the middle of the Chamber with the Tables and Chairs, and so sets fire to it in many places, and to the Matresses of the two Beds. There was already a great flame, when Celiantes awoke: he would have run strait to the door, but the smoke and fire hindered his finding it; and if he had found it, it had been to small purpose. You must die, said Lydiana, stopping him by the Arm; and though thou wouldst not live with me, I will let thee see I have love enough for thee to die with thee. She added somewhat else, and he answered her; but those who came to help them could neither hear what it was, nor prevent the fires consuming both of them. Elisa was so penitent for having been the cause of so cruel an accident, that she went into a Nunnery, but all her penitence for her Crimes will not restore Life to these two unfortunate Persons, whom Love has made perish in flames much fiercer than his own.  
There is nothing talked of here but pleasure and divertisements, nor were ever Balls or Music so much in the mode. The Commedians have lately acted here a piece stuffed full of them, which is entitled The Marriage of Bacchus and Ariana; the Songs took mightily, the Airs being composed by the famous Monsieur de Moliere, whose abilities are every where known, and who has been for many years employed to compose the Airs for the King's ballads. He is the Author of The loves of the Sun, which got so much fame the year last passed, and which this present Winter has been the business of the Theatre; for almost two Months I will say no more of his works; he is too much my friend, and therefore the praises I give him, may perhaps be suspected.  
After having undergone the troubles of a long Voyage, and suffered all those inconveniencies which the Sea oppresses them with, whose tempers cannot away with it; Monsieur Curtin is at last happily arrived in Sweden. Though he be yet but young, he manages all trusts imposed on him with the prudence and discretion of the most ancient men, and that have been the longest versed in employs. And we must needs believe his merits to be great, if we judge of them by the many Services, wherein the King has made use of him.  
Monsieur the Duke D'Estrees, as intelligent in Affairs of Counsel, as of War, parted some days since extraordinary Ambassador for Rome; he is Son to the late Marshal D'Estrees, so famous for the War of the Princes of Italy, which his discontents conceived against the Court of Rome made him stir up, and who in many other Embasses had favourable successes.  
Paris Jan. 16. 1672.   

Letter IU.  
THough there be nothing more ordinary than Compliment, nothing for the most part is more troublesome and useless. I therefore entreat you Madam to excuse them at the front of my Letters, and that I may immediately fall to the Story I intent to relate, and take now one, which I'll assure you is very new.  
One of those young people, who pretend to know all things, and yet do nothing, of those able Coxcombs who spend most part of their lives in waiting for employs, having devoured all his income, which was not much, flattering himself still with the hopes of a great fortune, at length finding himself somewhat oppressed for want of means, believed, that he might more commodiously wait for an employment, to raise him to the heights he dreamed of, if he married, and eat up a Wife's fortune, as he had done his own. His pretended endowments soon made him find out a woman, and the mighty things he boasted himself capable of, made it be thought, that if he could but one day get the least employ in the Treasury, he might in a little time gain two or three Millions of Estate. He wanted not famous examples of his prodigious fortunes, to authorise his great hopes, and he made it evident, that all those who had gained such great fortunes, were but Asles and Fops in Comparison of him. The Parents of her he desired to marry, swallowed this Gudgeon, and believed, that if one day he came into the management of business, he might give Commissions to all their Family, and one of these Gentlemen fully relied upon it, for three or four of his Children. And as many Nephews. There was likewise one of the richest amongst them, who being to give some recompense to a servant had waited on him for ten years, opened his Purse-strings, which he had already untied, and promised him a Commission of a hundred Crowns Rend. The man accepted the Bargain, and fancied to himself, that after that Commission, he should get another; that soon after he should have his Coach, and possibly in a little more time might buy some Marquisate; nay, he did not despair, but it might come to a Duchy; upon these splendid hopes of the whole family of the future Spouse, all whose Relations had their heads filled with Chimeras, the Marriage was agreed upon, celebrated and consummated all at once; so earnest were these imagining people at it, and so fearful lest the main Engine of such great fortunes should escape them, and their Family. There was nothing but Feasts and rejoicings succeeded the Marriage, at which nothing was talked of, but the future greatness of the new Husband, two or three Months passed in this manner, and no employments came to supply the expense. The Relations of the Wife bestirred themselves mightily to get one for their new Kinsman; they employed their Friends, but with all their solicitations they could get only a Servingman; which he refused with much disdain, in the mean time the Portion he got with his wife wasted, and he became almost as beggarly as before; and now his vexation was the more, because he had now a Wife to maintain, whose humour is a little whorish, and who loved to live high. The Gallants came, and it being now much to the purpose, were well received not by the Husband; for he was naturally jealous; but they told him, That those that came thither were persons of quality, and who might help him to an employment. Being in these straits he was forced to make a virtue of necessity; having hopes to get a Commission by their means; but though all these reasons made him suffer their coming thither, he could not do it but with much perplexity, and his continual presence, growing troublesome to them, there was one, who to get rid of him, gave him an employment in the Country. He was dubious at first whether he should accept it, not being willing to go from his Wife; but in the end he was persuaded to part, the employment being considerable. They told him, Fortune offered not herself every day, and that who once let her escape, did not easily find her again. To it then he goes, but with much reluctancy; so much he feared his Wives growing more whorish in his absence; he was not deceived in it, and had notice of it by one of those impertinent friends, who giving advice to Husbands of what their Wives do, wrong them more than their Wives themselves, though all they say of them be true. This poor Husband endured much sorrow, with vexing that his Wife enjoyed more pleasure than he; he was many times about to quit his employment, and come to be her Gaoler; but having no reasonable pretence, he saw well that his return would be to no other purpose then to make his misfortunes more public. This made him change his determinations, but as a jealous man continually meditating, it came one day into his head, to find out a way that his Wife should no longer be so fair, believing that with her beauty she would lose many of her lovers; and this was the Stratagem he concluded of, he sent her a Packet by the Post, into which he made up a very fine Box of Gold. This Box was filled with Gunpowder, and so ordered, that when the Screw was opened it should take fire by means of a Stone plaplaced to that purpose. This present was delivered safe to the party to whom it was designed; but it was given to her in his presence from whom her Husband held his Commission, he thought it a Picture sent from some other Lover, and earnestly snatches the Box, but his Jealous Curiosity was soon punished, for in opening it, it wrought the same effect on him the Husband designed it should have done on his Wife. This Adventure became a Town-talk. The Gallant believing the Husband had sent the Box, and soon after took away his Commission, on a false pretence of ill management. He returned to his Wife, where he and the whole Family are expecting new Commissions, which may one day put them in a condition to satisfy their mighty hopes.  
Mounsieur the Marquis de Villars has made his Public Entry into Madrid with a great deal of Magnificence: You know he is a very comely Gentleman, excellently humoured, and of a tried Valour; and the choice made of him to be Ambassador in Spain, where such delicacy of Judgement is required, is a certain evidence of his Abilities.  
Mounsieur de Pompone is lately returned from Sweden, and has already taken his Oath as Secretary of State: His Worth is known to all the World, since 'tis that has raised him to this Dignity. There is no person but is persuaded he will behave himself worthy of the Choice made of him by the Greatest and Wisest King of the World; and great things are expected from him. He writes with more spirit and life than can be observed in any of the most studied Letters of our Academians.   

Letter V.  
SInce I have told you in my last I would use no more Compliments, but begin all my Letters with the Stories I intent to relate; I will keep my word with you, and begin.  
An old covetous Fellow, who had yet no Children, and who was desperate fearful of any expense, was almost ready to run mad, when his Wife told him she believed she had conceived; he began to cast up in his Brain all that a Child would cost him, till it came to be thirty years of Age, and framed so exact an account of it, that he reckoned likewise the food they took in their Mother's Bellies, alleging that Women with Child eat both for Themselves and their Children: He added together all these sums, and then cast up how much they would purchase, if he laid them out in Rents, and how much the Interest upon Interest would produce. He found the total to amount so high, that he repent a thousand and a thousand times the day that ever he was married, and made a full resolution never to attempt getting any more Children, deeming it a pleasure unbecoming a discreet and understanding man. Whilst he was making these Accounts and these Reflections, his Wife perceived certainly she was with Child, and no more doubt to be made of it; she told it to her griping Husband, whose grief was twice as much as it had been before, and from that very minute he began several Retrenchments in his House, that his Thrift might help bear the charges of the coming Infant; but how gripple soever he were, he could save little this way, since rather than a superfluity, there was already a want of many necessary things. But if his torment were great, to see his Wife with Child, it was doubled and redoubled, when about the sixth month she told him that she believed she was with Child with two, and that many knowing Women doubted it; he was then ready to hang himself; but one we call a Man-midwife, a Friend of his, eased him of this vexation, by assuring him the contrary. Soon after, scolding with his Wife, he told her 'twas convenient to consider which would cost least, to bring up a Boy or a Girl; and after having well examined the matter, and reckoned at their fingers ends the expense of one and the other, they found that a Boy would cost least, because he might make his own fortune; but the Father and the Mother must make out the Girls, by providing her a portion. I will have you then said the Husband bring me a Boy. That is neirher in your power nor mine, replied the Wife. It shall be as I tell you, replied the Husband. It may be so, indeed, answered the Wife, if Nature has thought good to make one. Let Nature have made one or no, cried the old Wretch in wrath, I say you shall be brought to Bed of a Boy, or at least the Child you bring forth shall appear to the eyes of the world whatever I will have it to be: for if you be brought to bed of a Girl, we will say 'tis a Boy, and bring it up under that habit. The Woman was forced to consent, and all the rest of her time they fortified themselves in this Resolution. Her hour being come, she was brought to bed of a Girl, and to make it be believed a Boy, they took those courses they had before contrived. All that saw it were deceived, and when it grew in years many young Maids fell in love with it. This young Beauty being ill treated by her Father, and worse fed, resolved to leave the Covetous Miser, and as soon as she found herself able to carry a Musket, enlisted herself and came to the Army, where in the first Field she made herself be taken notice of. All that saw her, took a liking to her, they could give no reason for, and she had a kind of modest and obliging carriage, which hindered those who were Enemies to Worth in all others, from envying her. She was always very retired; and though she knew not herself what she was, she lived as if she designed a concealment; and it succeeded so happily, that never any suspected it. She was not yet grown to all the marks necessary to distinguish her: for though she was pretty large, she was very young, and had strength enough to undergo the toils of War. In the first Garrison where she quartered, her Landlord's Daughter fell desperately in love with her, and fearing herself to be already with Child by a Lover that was lately dead, and willing to hid her shame by clapping up a Match with this Object of her New Love, she omitted nothing might gain his good Will, doing a thousand obliging things for this fair Soldier, to bring her design to effect: she followed him every where, gave him meetings in an hundred different places, that all the World might take notice of her love, and speak of it to her Father. Her plot took, for those who spoke of it told him, That after so much talk of this her Passion, he would never find any one would marry her, and therefore to salve his Reputation, he must of force give her to him she loved so fervently. The Good Man was of their opinion, and after having a little chid his Daughter, and given her some good Lessons, he talked with her about marrying the young Soldier quartered with him. It is to be observed that this Disguised Maid passed for a young Lad of a good Family, and pretty rich, who was come to the Army without his Friends Consent; and this was the chief Motive to make mine Host resolve to give him his Daughter. I will not trouble you with all that passed till the wedding-day, but only bring this new-married Couple to Bed: There 'tis I believe you expect them. The Bride's heart went pit-a-pat out of fear her Husband should discover another had reaped those Favours should have been reserved for him: But that fear soon vanished, when she perceived too clearly that he was in a Condition to examine nothing; thus from one danger she apprehended, she fell into a worse, from which she would soon have with-drawn herself, if she had not been with Child, by discovering all. But however, she did nothing; and was so long consulting with herself what to do, that her Great Belly appeared; and now she thought it too late to speak: But unhappily for her, as she was in her Ninth Month, and a bed with her pretended Husband, one of her Kinswomen came into the Chamber while they were asleep, and putting her hand on the bed to wake her Cousin, who stirred not at the noise she made coming in, she met with the Breasts of the Maiden Husband, which lay uncovered, and presently it was known she was a Woman, for the Kinswomans' astonishment was so great, that she cried our aloud what she had discovered. This is the original of that Adventure has been of late so much talked of, and which has made so many ignorant people publish, That one Maid got another with Child.  
Mounsieur the Chancellor finding himself much afflicted with his Distemper, has ordered his Children to return the Seals into his Majesty's hands, fearing lest his Malady should hinder him from serving him with the same application he had done for this thirty nine years, in which he had officiated in this important Charge. Mounsieur the Duke of Coaslin carried word of it, and did it in a way very satisfactory to his Majesty. I know not, Madam, whether you have ever understood all the Worth of that Duke; his Valour is well known, and he esteemed one of the best men in the world, and the most officious Friend, earnest to do kindnesses, and joyful when he has done them. As for his internal parts, the place he has in the Academy is a sufficient Testimony of them.  
Paris 30 January 1672.   

Letter VI.  
I Am very doubtful Madam whether this Letter will have the good fortune to please you. and I have a great deal of reason to doubt it, since instead of finding as in the precedent, some divertizing Story, you will understand that such is my grief for the death of the good Chancellor, that I am not in a condition to relate Adventures. That great Chancellor is now no more, nor had death so long spared him, but to make France more sensible of his loss. He was a man of eminent knowledge, of admirable eloquence, and a Prudence often put to the test in the Counsels of two of the greatest Kings in the world he was a great Benefactor to learning, the Protector of all knowing men, and for a Crown to all his glories, he was the strongest prop and buttress of the Church that any age has known. Nor do I say this but upon the credit of many Prelates, who publish it as a truth. Never did man better understand the Justice, Ordinances and Laws of the Kingdom, nor appeared more to value able men of whatever profession. He sought with much labour and diligence to understand what belonged to his employment, or to those Counsels he was obliged to give in affairs of State, often acknowledging the search he had made of persons who might give him the least light, though he had much more understanding than those he consulted with.  
But if death hath ravished from us one great Minister. The King has made another by giving monsieur de Louvoy the quality of Minister of State, he owes this advancement only to his worth; for it is apparent, that his vigilance, exactness and good conduct in all things depending on his ministry, have made his Majesty discern in him the most accomplished policies, which obliged him to make choice of him to assist in all Counsels in the quality of Minister of State. Though he be yet very young, there shines in him all the prudence and sagacity of a Counsellor grown grey in affairs. All his actions are beautified with an incorruptible fidelity, and an exemplary strictness, which may be observed in his seventy towards his dependants, when they at any time falter in their duty, he is always ready to applaud and recompense good service, but he is inexorable when men stray from their duty. The choice he makes of those he puts into employments under him, justifies the good choice the King made when he left things to her dispose, and daily entrusts him with affairs of most concern both to the public, and to his own particular glory.  
Death the day before yesterday snatched from us Madam the Princess of Conty, she was as you very well know daughter of Count Martinozzi, and of a Sister of the late Cardinal Mazarine. Though nature had given her a great portion of beauty, her devotion made her neglect it, she lived with monsieur the Prince of Conty with that respect made her regarded with much kindness and consideration. Her great piety none are ignorant of, and her plentiful Alms could not be hid from the world. Her care in bringing up her Children was worthy so great a Princess, and the fruits of her endeavours may be seen in those little Princes, in whom may be observed qualities above the usual reach of such tender spirits.  
Paris February 6. 1672.   

Letter VII.  
I Believe, Madam, fame has already given you an account, how since the death of the late Lord Chancellor, the King would himself take the Charge of Keeper of his Seals; but perhaps you have not yet heard, that the first day he took that care upon him, he employed himself at it for near seven hours, and yet that hindered him not from holding the same day two Counsels of more than three hours and a half each. Never was Prince heard of, that took so much pains, or laboured so hard for the good of his Subjects, his Majesty has since named to have care of the Seal with deliberative voice, six ordinary Counsellors of state, who are the Mesieurs D' Aligre, de Seve, Poncet, Boucherat, Pussort, and Voisin; he has nominated likewise fix Masters of Requests, which are the Messieurs Barretin le Boulanger de Haqueville, le Pelletier, de Falcon, de Lamoignon, and Pellison. The King's prudence may be judged of by the merit of those he has named.  
Monsieur D' Aligre is of Sixty Nine years of Age, and Son of a Chancellor, he has been Fifty years in the Counsel, has passed through all Charges, and been a long time Director of the Finances; his honesty and uprightness are known and esteemed by all the world.  
Monsieur de Seve has been Secretary of the Closet, Master of Requests, and since Provost of the Merchants; he is at this present one of the Eldest Councillors of State, and has ever been one of the most zealout Servants of his King.  
The many different Charges undergone by Monsieur Poncet, have got him a great fame, and made his merits be acknowledged.  
Monsieur Boucherat is well known by the great employments he has had, and the many important Commissions he has always discharged to his Majesty's content, particularly in Britain, where he has been often Commissioner of the States for the King, he is a man of great Learning.  
Monsieur Pussort is estemable for many things, and particularly for the invention of new Laws and Ordinances, which may deliver the French from oppression,  
Monsieur Voisin has Signalised himself in many occasions, respecting his Ministry, he has been Provost of the Merchants, where he deserved the place of Ordinary of the Counsel, with which he was honoured.  
Monsieur Barretin is sometime since returned from the Super-intendence of Poictou he is Master of the Requests, and Precedent of the great Counsel, I know, Madam, you are sensible of his worth, and therefore shall say no more of it.  
Monsieur le Boulange de Haqueville is a man whose uprightness is well known in the Council, he has a great deal of wit, and makes himself be distinguished by a particular way of reporting affairs.  
Monsieur le Pelletier de la Houssaye is fearless, a good Judge, and who knows how to value a good Cause.  
Monsieur de Lamoignon is Son to Monsieur the premier Precedent. The great worth of his Father, and the care he had of his children's Education, would sufficiently of themselves speak advantageously of him, if he had not of himself given particular Evidences of his merit. He has Signalised himself in the Parliament, and continues to do so every day in the Council, thereupon his Majesty has chosen him an Assistant of the Seal.  
Monsieur Pellisson is known by all the world, his judgement and his uprightness are indisputable, and though he had every where left Evidences of them, the Favours he continually is receiving from the King, would be an assured Testimony for him.  
The Young marchioness, whom you know very well, who began to play so well on the Lute, is fallen into despair some days since. Monsieur Gaultier, who taught her, had assured her she should in a little time play as well as Madam Moiselle de Lenclos. 'Twas a bold word that; but he was one might give decisions in those sort of Affairs. Those were the last words that great Master spoke about playing on the Lute; For at his going from this young marchioness, he fell sick of a distemper, which he is since dead of. She no sooner heard the News; but resolving her Lute should not survive so great a Master, she broke it all in pieces, and has determined never to play more. I will not discant on this action, but leave you to judge of it. But if the death of Monsieur Gaultier hinders her from ever playing on the Lute, so well as Madam de Lenclos, she may yet endeavour to resemble her in her wit and judgement, with which you know that excellent person is infinitely well stored.  
Paris February 13, 1672.   

Letter VIII.  
I Cannot tell, Madam, whether you may have yet heard of any Adventure happened sometime since in this City, and which has been occasion of much pleasant discourse this Carnaval in all the Balls at Paris.  
A young married man, being one afternoon with some of his Friends, told them, that that Evening he had a Meeting at his house, and that he gave a Ball to a Sister of his Wives, that sojourned with her. One of the most pleasant fellows of the Company persuaded to go in Masquarade, and told the young married man, His pleasure would be much the greater, if he came along with them in a disguise. He consented, and they presently sent for Habits of Masquerade. The Hour of the Ball being come, they all went thither, and their Gentee carriage made many Conquests. The young Husband made one, which in the end pleased him not at all; for his Wife fell in love with him without knowing him, she stayed not long before she gave him signs of it, tenderly sweezing his hand, and he answered his kindness in the most loving manner he could; for the Adventure had a little Chilled his Blood, and never was man so vexed to be taken for another; yet he was resolved to see how far the business would go; but he found all things so well disposed, that it was no mighty task to make himself happy. I mean happy in quality of Gallant, for he was not so as Husband. His wife, who had doubtless heard some good Gossips say, That a favourable occasion must never be lost; For it is a hard matter to find again those we let scape, thought best to make use of this opportunity which the Ball presented; and since the confusion of so many people as were there gave her the means of stealing safely from them, without being perceived; she thought it a duty to love, and nature to slip àside with her new Gallant, and 'twas no sooner thought then done. She led him up a private pair of Stairs into a Chamber, where they could not be surprised. I will not tell you all that passed there; but the Lady was very well contented; yet it somewhat troubled her, that he would not speak to her, and that for fear to be known he had put out the light before he unmatched himself. She asked him many times the reason of it. He would not then answer her; but as soon as he had proceeded far enough to convince her of disloyalty, he broke silence, and began to reproach her with her falseness. She was so much the more bold to answer him, because there was no light to discover any change of Countenance, and having thereby time to recover from any surprise. She told him she knew him as soon as he came into the house, and that she only contrived this to laugh a little with him: He was not at all satisfied with these, but would, and will pass for what other men are so afraid of being accounted; and though it were done by himself, yet he believed himself as substantial a Cuckold as any man in the world could make him. He would never see his Wife from that time, and designs to sue out a separation from her. I leave you to judge whether he or I have reason; and pass to other News.  
The King willing to acknowledge the merits of Monsieur Pauchau, and recompense his services, gave him some days past a Commission to be one of the Masters of acccounts, and joined a considerable sum to that gift; his Majesty likewise let him know, that he should attend to the same services under Monsieur Pompone, he had formerly done under Monsieur de Lyon.  
The Messieurs de Vendosme are lately returned from Italy, where they have gained repute in all places where they have passed. The vivacity of their Spirits is a thing incredible, and and they compose Verses with so much smoothness, as would make great Authors jealous if their quality would admit them to do it often. Monsieur the Cardinal Patron, caused to be set up for them the representation of an Opera, to give them some divertisement. Judge by that, Madam, what considerable things these Operas are, when persons of such high quality are concerned in them, and honour them with their presence.  
Monsieur de Camus has bestowed on him by the King the Charge of Premier Precedent of the Court of Aids, his merit must needs be extraordinary, since he was preferred before so many deserving persons, and who had the same pretensions. It is he, who was formerly Proctor General of the same Chamber.  
Paris February 20, 1672.   

Letter IX.  MAdam, 
I am afraid that at opening this Letter, finding it so short you will think me Idle: but pray consider that I cannot be so in any thing relates to you, but throw all the fault on this Weeks barrenness of News.  
Mounsieur Despincha Marquis of Ternes, of one of the best Families of Auvergne, Lieutenant General of the King's Naval Forces and Galleys of France, and who had served under three Kings with much Zeal, Fidelity, and Glory, died some days since: His long life may teach those who are fearful of the Sea-Air, that one may live as long there as on Land.  
Mounsieur the Cavalier D' Arquien is received in reversion to the Charge of Captain Colonel of one hundred Swissers of the Guards du Corpse of Mounsieur: He is remarkable for his pleasant Countenance, and handsome Garb; which often stretches to Magnificence. He holds one of the first degrees among those who are accounted handsome men at Court.  
Paris 27. Febr. 1672.   

Letter X.  
I Expect one of my Friends to come and give me an account of an Adventure newly happened, which I design to communicate to you: But lest the Post-hour should come too quick upon me, I hope Madam, you will pardon me, if at this time I begin my Letter with the Weeks News.  
Monsieur de la moth Houdancour died some days since at the age of fourscore years, he had signalised himself at the Siege of Rochel and at that of Montmelian. The several Employments and Governments that he had, were the justest Evidences of his Deservings.  
Monsieur de Tholouse, Great Almoner to the Queen, and of one of the most Illustrious Families of Tuscany, and which has produced many Cardinals, after having been Ambassador for the King in Venice and Poland (where he deserved the Nomination of that Crown for a Cardinal's Cap) and after Ambassador in Spain, and Precedent of the Estates in Languedoc, where serving the King very beneficially, he knew likewise how to please and gain the love of all the Orders, is at length honoured with the Eminent Dignity of Cardinal, and his Holiness preferred him before many others upon the King's Recommendation, who strengthened the Nomination of Poland.  
I will make you no long discourse of the death of Madam; you cannot but know it, and fame flies quick with misadventures that befall Crowned Heads. Yet it may be she may not have told you that that young Princess knew the King even in the greatest distraction of her distemper, and even then when she knew no other person. She was carried to S. Denis with all the Pomp due to her Quality, and Monsieur the Cardinal of Bovillon made an Oration which drew the admiration of all the Assembly; You know that he joins to his Great Birth a Capacity above his Age, and a Prudence makes him be looked on with wonder by all that know him.  
The Ariana of Monsieur Corneille the younger, which has been so long expected, appeared on the Stage on Friday last; there was never any thing writ more feelingly; and that Princess expresses herself in Conceptions so soft and new, that it is not to be imagined any thing can be done better in that way: And to say all in a word, the Excellencies of Bajazet have not hindered it, Admirers to find some in this Piece, and to see it more than once.  
Paris March 5. 1672.   

Letter XI.  
I Believe, Madam, what I am about to write you of Monsieur Le— whom you know very well, and better perhaps than I do, will gain the Credit with you to be thought a pleasant Adventure; and that the reading it will contribute no less to your advertisement, than that of the best contrived Story imaginable which is not so true nor so new. You know, Madam, that that small Friend of ours, (whom I will now call Cleantes) could never be persuaded to declare his Choice either of the Church, the Long Robe, or the Sword: for sometimes he would by all means be an Abbot; and the next morning, quitting that Resolution, he would needs be a Counsellor; and within a minute or two after, nothing would serve his turn but to be a Soldier. His Relations and Friends having at last pressed him to determine upon something, and having been somewhat severe upon him for his Irresolution, he promised them he would very suddenly declare his Choice, and that on the morrow he would advise what course was best. You will never, Madam, be able to imagine of whom he took Counsel, and what he did to put himself into a Condition to receive it. He borrowed a Suit of Arms, and all the Habiliments of War: He sent to a Counsellor who was a Friend of his, for a Lawyer's Gown, and he entreated an Abbot that was of his Acquaintance to lend him only for one Afternoon his Surplice and his Rochet. All this Harness he caused to be carried into his Closet, where he had four great Looking-glasses. In short, being there alone, and having shut to the Door, he arms himself Cap-a-pe, puts the pot upon his head, takes the Sword and Pistol into his hand, consults his four Looking-glasses, struts in a warlike manner half a dozen turns up and down his Closet, furiously assails the figures in the Tapestry, and finds in himself Courage, Strength, and Resolution enough to go to the Army. He therefore examines all the Advantages of that Profession, and the fortunes that he might rise to: Such and such, said he within himself, have had such Commands: Such have been made Marshals of France at such an Age; such have made their Actions the talk of the World, and their names have served to lengthen out Gazettes, they are gazed at wherever they go, and marked out with the finger for Brave Men; None dare speak almost to them, but their Reputation makes them every where be dreaded. After having run over these fancies in his brain, he began to make reflections on the pleasures he should enjoy upon his Return from a Campaign to appear with all the Equipage of a Marquis; for he concluded that gay and fine people made many more conquests than others: he believed he saw already a great Plume wagging in his Hat, and his Coat glittering all over with Embroidery, that it out-vy'd the Sun, wherever he went; he fancied all Eyes followed him, and he could not doubt but his manly presence supported and set off with this Equipage of a Marquis, and of a Marquis that was come from the Army, must captive the stubbornest hearts, and make the Ladies fall flat before him. These magnanimous thoughts stirred up afresh his Courage in the Closet, and he summoned all his Courage together, and redoubled his blows against a Squadron of Horse that was in the Tapestry; But, O dire mischance! blinded with too furious a height of Courage, he unfortunately missed the Hang, and his Sword lighting upon one of the Looking-glasses broke it all in pieces; he presently throws down his Arms with a resolution never to handle them more: He believed now he should be unfortunate in the Army, that he should certainly be slain, and the broken Looking-glass was an infallible presage of it. Well then, Arms laid aside, he takes up the Gown, and  himself like a Counsellor, putting on a little Minikin Ruff, and a short white Periwig: He consults with remaining Looking-glasses, and thinks this Habit became him mighty prettily, and gins to feel his Spirits exalted that way: So he sets himself to examine the Advantages of this Profession, which he finds very considerable. All People that have Courage, said he within himself, do not come to be Marshals of France, the number would then be too great, and one must have exposed one's life a thousand times before one can justly pretend to that Dignity. This thought made him frown and grow pale at once; he found a Counselors condition much better and securer; and in time, thinks he, I may come to be a Judge, without running any hazard of my Life. He proposes to himself a thousand Pleasures and Delights before it came to that; Fancies to himself an Antichamber, and all the Stairs leading up to it full of Clients ready to cast themselves on their Knees before him, and calling him, My Lord. He smirks and smiles, imagining he sees among them a great many pretty Women, and these thoughts egg on others which fill his whole Brainpan full of a thousand ravishing Conceptions. Here therefore he resolves to fix his Standard, and to become a Counsellor; but yet he will first put on the Rochet to see how it becomes him. And now he admires his incomparable Gravity, and being mightily taken with himself, it comes into his head, that he might one day arrive to be a Cardinal: O then! how should he look in a Scarlet Robe! A Counsellor now seems to him but a Coxcomb, in comparison of a Cardinal: No, no, said he within himself, I am not of the humour to undergo the toils and labour which a man of the Long Robe must submit to; what a thousand troubles do continually haunt him, after having spent a whole evening in reading over Breviates, and perhaps the best part of the Night, he must be roused by four or five a Clock in the morning, with bawling and crying, Good Sir, Remember my cause; Pray Sir, Remember my cause; and this din continues all the while he is within doors, nor escapes he when he gets out, but at every corner some are watching to catch him, and ring their cause in his ears. If I think to go eat or drink with my Friends, they themselves grow my Tormentors, and are recommending one Cause or another; or if I go to court my Mistress, and take an hours divertisement with her, she is worse than all the rest; and being gained by the almighty power of Presents, I must not be admitted to the touch of her finger without the extracting some promise from me, and if I promise her, I must keep my word, and then ten to one fall into injustice. No, no, I will not be a Counsellor, 'tis too weighty a Charge; 'tis better being an Abbot, they live as they please: They— He was about to enlarge himself upon the Advantages of this Profession, when a beautiful young person whom he loved, and was designed to be married too as soon as he was settled, entered the Closet together with her Mother. He believed he had shut the door very securely; but alas, he had left the Key in it, his Brain was so overwhelmed with Imaginations and Whimsies concerning the Choice he was to make. He could not be more surprised to see them come in, than the Ladies were to see him in that posture. They asked him what was the meaning of his being habited in that manner? He told them he had determined to become a Churchman, and had put on the Rochet to see how the Habit agreed with him: He was hardly to be known, for he had put off his Perruque, his Hair reached but to his Ears, and the square Cap he had put on, almost covered them, so that he looked mighty ridiculously to the Ladies in that disguise. They asked him again and again whether he would be steadfast in his Resolution to become a Churchman? He told them, Yes, and that they could not justly complain of him if he took that Course; for if he deserted his Mistress, 'twas for God alone; and that since he left her not for any other beauty, they ought not to be angry with him, nor could not accuse him of Inconstancy. They told him they believed they should be guilty of a great crime, if they should endeavour by any considerations to divert him from so pious a design; and soon after left him, without seeming either glad or sorrowful at the accident. The Mother who knew very well, and had seen many evidences of his natural Inconstancy of Mind, was glad to be so rid of him. She had another Match ready for her Daughter, and that fair Maid had some inclination for him she designed her; so that things were easily concluded. The pretended Abbot heard of it, and was ready to run mad; he comes and throws himself at his Mistress' feet, protests, That to enjoy her he would renounce all the Abbeys in the world, and would embrace whatever profession she liked best. But it was now too late, and things were too far gone, which did so much afflict him, that he is since turned Monk. I know not how long his unquiet and irresolute Spirit will suffer him to stay in the Convent; but I believe to any one of his humour, confinement will be very tedious and irksome. Few people know this Adventure, and I am confident, Madam, you will find it very extraordinary; and though you may have some commiseration for our friend's misfortune; yet you cannot at the same time forbear laughing at his follies.  
Never did one year produce so many excellent pieces for the Theatre, and the famous Moliere has not deceived us in the hopes he inspired almost four years ago, that there should be one day represented at the Place Royal a Comical piece after his own Mode, which should be absolutely accomplished. We are excellently divertized sometimes by those Pretieuses or Femmes Scavantes (wise women) sometimes by the pleasant railleries of a certain Henrietta, and then by the ridiculous conceits of a Fantastic, who believes all the world with him, and would persuade others so too; I omit speaking of the Character of a Father, who would make us believe, that is Master of his house, and braves it nobly when he is alone; but is as quiet as a Lamb if his Wife but appear. I say little likewise of the humour of Monsieur Trissotin, who brimful of understanding, and puffed up with the glory he believes he has deserved, appears so full of confidence in himself, that he looks upon all Mankind besides as contemptible. The ridiculous opinion which a Mother spoiled with reading, seems to have conceived for this monsieur Trissotin is no less pleasant, and this humour as violent as that of the Father in Tartuffe, would last for ever, if by the ingenious Artifice of the false news of a Cause lost, and of a Bankrupt (which is an invention not at all inferior to that of the Buffoon in the impostor) a Brother, who though but young, appears a man of exquisite understanding, did not break it off by laying open the whole piece, There is in the third Act a quarrel between Monsieur Trissotin, and another wise man very divertising, and at last there is the return of a certain Kitchen Maid, called Martina who makes the whole Audience laugh with an infinite number of Jolly things, which she says in her Gibberish, to prove, That men should have the preference of women. This is a most confused account of the most considerable parts of this Comedy, which has got the vogue of all Paris. There are throughout the whole a thousand wittly quirks, many happy expressions, and new and bold ways of speaking, the invention of which can never enough be praised, and is impossible to be imitated. Many people have made different applications of persons in this Comedy, and a quarrel the Author had about eight years ago with a learned man, whom they think represented by Trissotin has given occasion to the public talk; but Monsieur Moliere is sufficiently justified in that by a speech he made publicly two days before the first representation of his piece; nor ought such a pretended Censure of this ingenious Comedy give him any trouble, if he be as wise, and as able a man, as 'tis said he is; since 'twill only make his merit shine the brighter, and stir up in people a desire to know him, read his writings, and hear his Sermons. Aristophanes' blemished not the reputation of Socrates, by playing upon him in his Fairies; nor was that great Philosophers esteem at all lessened in Greece. But to be the better Judges of the Comedy I have been speaking of, I would advise all the world to see it, and to divertize themselves, without examining things at Random, or listening to the Critical humour of most people, who think it a monstrous witty thing to find fault.  
Paris March 12. 1672.   

Letter XII.  
THe Arch Bishop of Paris, director of the French Academy went with them some days passed to Versailles to return the King thanks for the Honour he had done to that Illustrious and Learned Society, to take upon himself the place of their Protector in the room of the dead Chancellor. He made his Compliment to the King after his ordinary rate; that is, with a great deal of Wit and Eloquence. You know well, that with the comeliness of his person, which pleases at first sight, he has a most delightful way of utterance, and that never person brought forth words with so much ease, aptness, and delicacy; besides he is endowed with all the knowledge of the most accomplished Doctors, which he gives Evidence off on all occasions; but I undertake not to write hi● Panegyrics, leaving it to them design his History.  
Mounsieur D'Angeau, Governor of Anjou, and sometime Campmaster of the Regiment du Roy, and designed Ambassador for Sweden, who is likewise of this Academy, gave a Magnificent treat to this Prelate, with all the Academians of his confraternity, Mounsieur de Corin was not of their number, for fear, as 'tis said, lest he should lay hold on the occasion, to complain to the King of the Comedy 'tis pretended Mounsieur de Moliere has made against him; but it is not to be believed, that a man, who often converses with the chief persons of Court, and whom Madammoiselle honours with the name of Friend, can be the Object of so bloody a Satire. The resemblance they attribute to him, agrees not with a man, who has published works with an approbation as general, as that of his paraphrase on the Song of Songs. I speak not of his works of Gallantry, of which there are many Editions, those are Plays he divertized himself with, before he made profession; which since his first embracing it, he has ever held to the same Austerity he now maintains it with.  
There was in this Assembly Mounsieur Quinault, so well known for his smooth and soft Verses; Mounsieur Desmarests so famous for a great number of extraordinary works, which at once set forth both the height of Wit, and depth of Knowledge. The Famous Mounsieur Corneille the Elder, was here too. I can say nothing of him, which will not be beneath him; he is the only man whose works may be praised without seeing them, and from whom notwithstanding his great Age we may yet expect accomplished things, as will doubtless, be his last Tragedy, which will appear next Winter under the name of Pulcheria, and which cannot fail pleasing of those, who are in their right Senses, as it has already pleased all have had the happiness to read it. There were likewise in this Illustrious Company the two Abbeys Tallemont, the one chief Almoner to Madam, whose merit is indisputable, and who with so much success and, and so much benefit to the public, made that excellent Translation of the Lives of Plutarch. The other in a thousand occasions has showed his ingenuity, and made himself be admired, as well for his pleasant and witty Compositions, and by hi● Sermons, which declare his Eloquence and Learning. I had forgot Mounsieur L'Abbot Jestu, whose Sermons charmed the whole Court, and whose soft and Divine Poems give him the preference before all undertake those ways of writing, from whom we might expect many admirable things, did not a distemper of ascending vapours hinder his doing any thing. I cannot forget Mounsieur the Duke D'Anguien, whose exquisite Gallanteries, Frolicksome and Gallant Verses, and high feats of Arms, are unknown to no person, who captives all that know him, by an obliging Civility, and by the kindnesses he is ready to do for all the world upon all occasions. There are many others very considerable for their Worth and Endowments, whose names I cannot now remember.  
Paris 19 March.   

Letter XIII.  
I Now send you, Madam, what you were pleased to let me know was much desired in your Province; and what you have often wished for, to communicate to some Gentlemen your Friends: for, for the Ladies, I believe they had rather understand the estate of those hearts that sigh for them, than that of the KING'S Forces.  

An Account of all the Forces, Foot and Horse, which are in the King's Service, according to the Establishment concluded on for their Subsistence.  
Regiments of French Foot, containing 53 Men in a Company, comprising the Officers.  Regiments Names. Number of Companies. Picardy. 70 Champagne. 70 Navarre. 70 Piedmont. 70 Normandy. 70 Lafoy Marine. 70 Lafoy Marine. 32 Castelnau. 33 Avergne. 33 De Sault. 33 Bandeville. 16 Regiment du Roy. 70 Regiment Royal. 70 Regiment d'Anjou. 70 Praslin. 18 Lyonnois. 35 Dauphin. 70 Cursol. 17 Montaigu. 16 Turenne. 33 Lafoy Motte. 17 Dampierre. 16 Lovigny. 18 Grance. 16 La Rein. 70 Montperat. 16 Les Vaisseaux. 70 Orleans. 33 Artois. 33 Bretaigne. 16 Carignan. 16 Chasteaneuf. 16 Sourches. 18 Vendosm. 16 La Ferte. 18 Conty. 16 Lafoy Fere. 16 Conde. 17 Anguien. 17 Jonzai. 18 Monperoux. 16 Bovillon. 16 Burgogne. 33 Lafoy Marine Noveau. 20 Fusilliers du Roy. 24  
In all 46 Regiments, containing 1569 Companies of Foot, of 53 men to the Company, amount in all to— 83157 men.  

Foreign Regiments of Foot.  
Alsatia, Twelve Companies, of 182 men, each, make 2184 men.  
English and Scotch, Twenty Companies, of 123 men each, 2460  
Roussillon, Twenty Companies of the same, 2460  
Furstenburgh, Twelve Companies, of 182 men each, 2184  
Irish, Twelve Companies, of 104 men each, 1248  
Another Irish, Sixteen Companies, of 104 men each: 1664  
Royal Italian, Twenty seven Companies, of 104 men each, 2808  
Royal English, Eight Companies, of 103 men each, 824  
Stoop Swiss, Twelve Companies, 200 men each, 2400  
Erlac Swiss the same, 2400  
Festa Swiss the same, 2400  
Salis Swiss the same, 2400  
English, Eight Companies, 103 men each, 824  
Fifty Unregimented Companies, containing 200 men each, 10000  
The whole Number of thirteen Foreign Regiments, and fifty Unregimented Companies of divers Nations, amounts unto 36256 men.   


Gend'armes light Horse, and Musquetiers on Horseback.  
Four Companies of Guards du Corpse. 1039 men  
Scotch Company of Gend'armes. 105 men  
Two Companies of Musquetiers on Horseback, making 554 men  
English Company of Gend'armes. 105 men  
English Company of Light-horse. 110 men  
The Queens Gend'armes. 154  
The Dauphins Gend'armes. 209  
The Dauphin's Light-horse. 108  
Gend'armes d' Anjou. 105  
Gend'arms d'Orleans. 154  
Orleans Light-Horse. 157  
Total of the Companies of Gend'armes, Light-horse, and Musquetiers on Horseback above specified. 2800 men.    

Light-horse, of which the Regiments are of six Troops, and 54 men each.  
Colonel General of the said cavalry  
Campmaster General of the said Cavalry.  
Commissary General of the said Cavalry.  
Royal du Roy.  
Two Foreign Regiments.  
Cravates du Roy.  
La Regne.  
Dauphin.  
Orleans.  
Conde.  
Anguien.  
Rovuray.  
Gassion.  
Des Forneaux.  
Joyeuse.  
Bonaveze.  
Fourrilles.  
Resnel.  
Cabinet.  
Montauban.  
Pillois.  
Coulange.  
Merlin.  
St. Loupe  
Cachan.  
St. Aoust.  
Derdelin.  
Douget.  
Duconde.  
Nogent.  
Tillader.  
Sourdis.  
Hislez.  
Bligny.  
La Fabliere.  
Lambert.  
Caberel.  
Humieres.  
Proville.  
Bartillac.  
Beaupre.  
Paulmy.  
Beaufort.  
Carendo.  
Sanzay.  
Chenuet.  
Novart.  
Sommieure.  
Hanjou.   
In all 52 Regiments of six Troops each, and of 54 men each Troop, make 324 men in a Regiment, in all 16848 men.  

Other Regiments of Horse, of three Troops each, and fifty four men in a Troop.  
Coislin.  
Estrades.  
Bethune.  
Montgeorge  
Busenval.  
Basleroy.  
Thrange.  
Langueville  
Ragny.  
Bovillon.  
Auvergne.  
Grignan.  
Laurieres.  
Granville.  
Duroures  
Mere.  
Thury.  
Valavoire.  
Arnolfiny.  
Harcourt.  
Armagnac.  
St. Aignan.   
In all 66 Troops of the 22 Regiments above, at 54 men to a Troop, amounts to 3564 men.  

Foreign Light-horse.  
The Prince of Piedmont Ten Troops, some of 64 and others of 54 men. 556  
Konesmark, 24 Troops of 54 men each. 1296  
English Ten Troops, of 54 men. 540  
Schomberg 3 Troops of 54. 162  
Rose 3 Troops the same. 162  
Aousset 3 Troops. 162  
All the above Foreign Cavalry. 3196 men.   

Two Regiments of Dragoons.  
Colonel General of the Dragoons Six Troops, 104 men each. 624  
Dragoons du Roy, 6 Troops, 54 men each. 324  
Total of the Dragoons, 948   

Forces belonging to the King's House.  
French Regiment of Guards, 30 Companies 100 men each. 3000  
Swiss Regiment of Guards, Ten Companies 200 men each, 2000  
Gend'armes du Roy, 200  
Light-horse of the Guard, 200  
Total 5400 men   

The Forty six Regiments of French Foot in this Establishment, amount to 83697 men.  
Thirteen Regiments of Foreign Foot amount 36256; to which adding the Swiss Regiments of Guards of 2000 men, and the fifty lose Companies of several Nations, 41318 men.  
The Sixteen Companies of Gend'armes, 2608 men.  
The Fifty two Regiments of French Horse, 16848 men  
Twenty two other Regiments of French Horse, 3564 men.  
Twelve other Regiments of French Horse, 648 men  
Regiments of Foreign Horse, 3096  
Kings Gend'armes, 200  
Kings Light-horse, 200  
Total of the Infantry and Cavalry, 155687 men   
Since this Establishment was settled, the King in February las● 1672. gave Commissions fo● raising Three Hundred Companies of Foot, making Fifteen thousand men, to incorporate with the old Bodies, and make them 80 Companies each, and six score Troops of Horse to consist of 6000 men, in all _____ 21000.  
Which added to 155687,  
Makes 176687 men in all.  
Paris 26 March, 1672.   

Letter XIV.  
I Have nothing of News Madam, to communicate this Week, unless it be the King's Journey to Versailles. I know you have seen that place, and that you have read the excellent description given of it by Madamoiselle de Scudery; but the Versailles you have seen, and that which she has writ of are much different from that which now is; and the King never is a Month away from thence, but he finds something new, and the place appears changed, by reason of the beauties incessantly added. The Grotto has been lately imbelished with many incomparable Figures, they have placed there a great Sun; with a many Nymphs abour him, Crowning him, and washing his feet and his hands. This wonderful piece (the largest yet there) is the Workmanship of Messieurs Gerardon, and Renaudin: In two niches which are of the side of it, are placed four Horses of the Sun, which seem to breath forth fire, and look as if they were taking their Career, but are stopped by the powerful Tritons that withhold them. Monsieur Guerin made one half of this work, and Messieurs Gaspard, and Baltazard the other. There are likewise placed in this Grotto many other curious Figures of Monsieur Battista a very famous Artist, from whence it appears, that France does produce men great in these works, as well as Italy. I should never have done, should I speak of all the wonders the Waters produce in that delicious Paradise. The Sieur Denys brings it thither by wonderful Pumps and Aquaducts, and Monsieur Faucine does with it things surpassing imagination, Witness the Marish, the Tree, and the Mount of Water, not to forget the Theatre, where the changes of the Scenes of Water are as quick and fast as in the other, where the Machine's are the thickest; but one would think there should want water for all these things, and so there must, but for the great care of those that bring it to that place; for there are are very large Terraces excellently Wrought and Imbelished, under which are Cisterns of Water. The Miracles done by Monsieur Nautre in these Magnificent Gardens are no less admirable. The great quantities of Orange-trees Planted in the ground, may be a Testimony of it, as well as those great Trees transplanted to enlarge the great Walk, a thing never before seen. There are yet a thousand things might be said of this Castle, which surpasses the Palace of Armida. I might speak of the Buildings, and those who are the Architects; but that would be too long a Story, and therefore had better put it off to another time, or rather till they be finished.  
Paris April 2. 1672.   

Letter XV.  
I Know not, Madam, whether the News I have sent you since the Month of January hath satisfied your Curiosity. I am of the opinion, that what I have hitherto done, has only showed my obedience in punctually writing you; but I hope in time to send you more pleasing and plentiful news.  
Monsieur the Cardinal de Bonzy received this week the Cap from the King's hands, in the presence of the Cardinals de Retz, Bovillon, and Maldoching. I have already writ you something of Cardinal Bovillon, and you are not ignorant of the great merit of Cardinal de Retz, and that both his wit and his misfortunes have made him equally famous as well as his fidelity to his Friends; and you know likewise, that his Justice and Generosity, of which every one is a partaker, who comes within the reach of his kindness, make him no less admired. All men seemed astonished to see at this Ceremony Monsieur Priam, formerly Precedent at Mantova, who had seen the former Cardinal of Bonzy, great Uncle to this man, and Grand Almoner to Mary de Medicis, receive the Cap from the hands of Henry the fourth.  
The Duke de Chaune, famous for his Embassis to Rome, as likewise for the good service he has done the King in the States of Britain, of which he is Governor; some days since presented the Deduties of that Province to his Majesty.  
The Duke of Bethane, so well known under the Title of Count de Charost, whose services, fidelity and acknowledgements to his Benefactors makes as esteemable as his Illustrious birth, which he derives from the ancient Count of Bethune has taken his Oath between the King's hands for the charge of Lieutenant General of Picardy, in Exchange of that of Captain of the Guard du Corpse, which is given to the Duke de Duras. You know Madam this Duke is one of the most ancient Houses in France that has a vast wit, that he has in all Armies where he has served, given approved marks of Valour and Conduct, and gained the esteem of a very great Captain.  
You may have heard  this of the Death of the Duchess Dowager of Orleans, her Age, her Family, and her Christian Virtues are all so well known to you, that I need not enlarge myself on that point.  
Paris April 9 1672.   

Letter XVI.  
SInce 'tis your desire, Madam, after having heard something concerning the French Academy, that I should likewise write you something concerning that of the Abbot of Aubignac, of which, as you say, you have only heard some confused speeches. I will tell you, that it is called l' Academie des belles Lettres, and that its institution was for examining works of Eloquence and Poesy. The first day of every Month a discourse was held of the several Conditions of man, in which Eloquence was held necessary. The holding the first discourse fell to Monsieur Blondeau, Advocate in Parliament, he held it on the Eloquence of the Bar, and acquitted himself very well in the great Hall of the Hostel de Matignon, before an Assembly composed of many persons of quality, both of the one and the other Sex. Monsieur the Marquis de Villains gained applause the Month following on Military Eloquence. The impression this discourse made is a sign of its Excellence; and therefore I'll say no more, but pass to the third, which fell upon Monsieur the Abbot of St. . The two former having made discourse; with regard to their profession, this illustrious Abbot would make his on the Eloquence of the Pulpit, and had great success in it, to the wonderful satisfaction of the whole Assembly. Monsieur Perachon gained credit the Month following, and the other Academians addicted themselves from Month to Month to give Evidences of their Wit and Learning. At the end of these Discourses they read some works of Poesy. composed by some of the Gentlemen of the Academy, and these are the names of the Composers.  

Monsieur the Abbot of Aubignac, director  
Monsieur de Vaumorieres Subdirector.  
Monsieur Gueret Secretary of the Academy  
The late Marquis de Chatelet.  
Monsieur the Marquis de Villains.  
Monsieur the Marquis d' Arbaux.  
Monsieur Petit, Director after the Abbot d' Aubignac.  
Monsieur Perachon Advocate in Parliament.  
Monsieur The Abbot of Vilars.  
Monsieur the Abbot of Villeserain, at present Bishop of Senes, Director after Monsieur Petit.  
The late Abbot of Ganaret.  
Monsieur de La●nay,  
Monsieur Care Advocate in Parliament.  
Monsieur Richelet.  
Monsieur de Perier.  
The late Monsieur de Baurin Advocate in the Counsel.  
Monsieur Barallis Physician.  
Monsieur the Abbot of St. .   
The illustrious Academy has been broke off since the Abbot of Villeserain was made Bishop of Senes, there was a design sometime before to bring women in, and Madam de Villedieu was proposed, whose works were grown so famous; they talked likewise of Madam the marchioness of Guiberminy, Daughter of Monsieur the Marquis of Villains, who has a piercing and delicate wit, and cannot be too much praised; nor did they forget Madam the marchioness Deshoulieres, you must needs have heard speak of her (Madam) for his worth is every where known, she writes very Politely both in Verse and Prose. There run up and down some Gallant pieces of her Dog called Gas, who is lately turned excellent Poet, so that his works deserve to be Printed. This Lady has made him the Cerberus of Pornassus, to defend its entrance against Dabblers. I have enclosed a Copy of his Verses being a Letter to the Count L. T. that you may judge of his wit, and when you have read them, I believe you will say, you never saw more natural Verses, nor heard of a more Ingenious Cur; but the reason is evident, all Spaniels have not such witty Mistresses.  
Monsieur de Moranges, Director of the Finances died last week, he was an honest and an ingenious man, and the Gazetsayes so much of him, that I can say nothing comes near it.  
Monsieur the Baron of Schonborn, Nephew and Envoy extraordinary of the Elector of Mentz had Audience from the King, he demonstrated under the face of Youth, a Prudence surprises the Aged, and business seems so natural to him, that the most knotty things are easy, this he has given such evidences of, and I have been assured it by so many persons that know him well, that you may believe all I writ of this young Minister is true.  
Monsieur the Count de Molina, extraordinary Ambassador from Spain, made his Entry accompanied with Marshal de Grance, and some days after was conducted to have Audience from the King, by Monsieur the Count de Armagnac. You may observe one thing, which those who have read the Gazettes this twenty years, have not perhaps taken notice of, which is, that the Ambassadors of Crowned heads, or those that are treated, as such are always conducted to their Audience by a Prince of the Blood, and that he, who receives them on the day of their public Entrance, never conducts them to the Lovure.  
Paris April 16. 1672.   

Letter XVII.  
I Promised you Madam to send you all the new Modes; and yet I have not, you tell me, writ you one word of them in any of my Letters. The Courts being so long in mourning has been the cause of it. It has put a stop to the inventions of many and smothered those have come forth in their Infancy; yet I will tell you, That they wear their Gowns so long Wasted, that it reaches almost to their Thighs, who have but little Haunches.  
The men still wear their Hats so large, that the old men (who for fear of appearing ridiculous; wore great ones while others wear little ones) appear at present what they sought to avoid, because they will not change their Mode; and the great Hats of that time, are the little ones of this.  
They wear now few Hatbands of Ribbon or Silk, and Gold Hatbands are come again in Mode. I know not whether it will long be suffered; but within this eight days they begin to wear all their Coats Laced or Embroidered with Gold and Silver. 'Tis seldom but the same thing has happened over again; but time past is now no more, and Monsieur de la Reynie attempts nothing he brings not to pass; he has done things since he has been Lieutenant of the Policy, that were thought impossible, and which many ages attempted in vain; no Judge can be more equitable, uncorrupr or zealous in the service of his King. The populacy are so obliged to him, they ought to contrive a way to Eternize his memory.  
After having spoken of the Modes respecting the habits of Men and Women, I must now entertain you with one newer than any of those I have spoken of, and which relates to Householdstuff. I was lately at a Gentlewoman's, who is none of the highest quality; but whose Gallant is extremely rich; they told me they would show me a Hall, very neatly furnished, and they carried me into a Room, whose Hang were of fine Damask. Whilst they made me look out at a Window had its prospect on a very fine Garden, that Hanging was gone in an instant, so that but turning about, I saw the Rooms hung with Hang of another Colour, and the first drawn up like a Cornish about it. Admiring this invention, they bid me pull a little weight that was hid in the Corner of the Room, where it was not seen, and yet was fastened to Strings of Silk and Gold, which I had no sooner as it were touched, but the second Hanging came up, and disposed itself into little folds, making Buttons as it were between the Cornish, and discovered a rich Green Hanging, adorned with many Pictures with curious Frames. Never was any thing so pleasant to me, and I cannot but admire at those that found out this pretty invention, and had I gone out of the Hall as often as it changed, I could never have believed it to be the same Room. The Inventors of this, they say, are framing a Bed shall change as often. I thought I could never have sent you so much of new Modes; but I see this Article will always furnish me with matter.  
One of Monsieur the premier Precedents Sons, has lately married a Daughter of Monsieur de Calucet, Governor of the Castle of Nantes. I will inform you as soon as I can of the particular endowments of these young married people.  
The King has nominated Monsieur D' Aquin his principal Physician. I will neither speak of his worth nor capacity, the King's choice is enough to make both known.  
Monsieur de la Chambre is nominated principal Physician to the Queen; he is much esteemed in Court, and has the repute of an able man.  
Monsieur Renadot, whose long Experience, and the infinite number of distempered persons he has had for many years to practice upon, should be one of the ablest Physicians in Paris, is by the King chosen Principal Physician to the Dauphin.  
Since January last has been continued the publishing of le Journal des Scavans, which you have sometimes read with delight, 'tis a good and a profitable Work, the Author is in much esteem, and has the Honour to be favoured by a great Minister of State.  
Paris April 23. 1672.   

Letter XVIII.  
I Now send you a List of the General Officers nominated by the King to serve him this Campaigne. I will not be so positive as to affirm it so exact, that nothing may be forgot, nor nothing altered, or that the degrees are infallibly observed; but in short, 'tis the best I could get, and I give you part in it. I believe there's many people in your Country don't know half so much.  

Names of the General Officers of the King's Army.  


MONSIEUR, Generallissimo.  
Monnsieur de Turenne, General.    


Lieutenant Generals.  
Monsieur de Gadagne.  
Monsieur the Duke de Fevillade.  
Monsieur the Count de Soissons.  
Monsieur the grand master of Artillery.  
Monsieur de Lorge.  
Monsieur de Rochfort.    


Marshals de Camp.  
Monsieur the Chevalier de Lorraine.  
Monsieur Martinet.  
Monsieur de Montal.  
Monsieur de Fourille is Campmaster of the Cavalry, and Serves always.    


Brigadiers of Horse.  
Monsieur de M.  
Monsieur de C.  
Monsieur de Feville.  
Monsieur le Comte du Roy.  
Monsieur de Chazeron.    


Brigadiers of Foot.  
Monsieur de Beauveau.  
Monsieur    


Adjutants of the Camp.  
Monsieur the Count d' Again.  
Monsieur D' Albret.  
Monsieur the Chevalier de Nogent.  
Monsieur the Marquis d' Angeau.  
Monsieur de Breaute.  
Monsieur de la Roche Courton.     

Officers of the Army of Monsieur the Prince.  


Lieutenant Generals.  
Monsieur the Count d' Guiche.  
Monsieur de St. Aure.  
Monsieur Faucaut.    


Marshals of the Camp.  
Monsieur the Count du Plessis.  
Monsieur the Count de Nogent.  
Monsieur de Magaloty.  
Monsieur de Chisevile.    


Commissary General of the Horse.  
Monsieur de la Cardoniere.    


Brigadiers of Horse.  
Monsieur de Beauveze.  
Monsieur Vivien.  
Monsieur de Fourneaux.    


Brigadiers of Foot.  
Monsieur Pilloy.  
Monsieur     

Officers of the Army to commanded by Monsieur the Marshal de Crequy.  


Lieutenant General.  
Monsieur de Nanere.    


Marshals of the Camp.  
Monsieur de Vaubrun.  
Monsieur the Cavalier du Plessis.    


Brigadiers of Horse.  
Monsieur M.  
Monsieur de Pierrefite.     
The King has nominated Monsieur de Sainsandoux, Major of the Regiment of Guards, Major General of his Army; he has likewise nominated Monsieur Tracy, Captain of the Guards, Major General to the Prince, and Monsieur de la Marrilliere, Lieutenant Colonel of the Queen's Regiment, Major general of the third Army,  

General Officers of the Armies of the Allies.  
Monsieur de Luxembourg, Lieutenant General to the Bishop of Munster.  
Monsieur de Chamilly, Lieutenant General to the Bishop of Cullen.  
Monsieur de Renel to command the Horse.  
Monsieur de Mornas to command the Foot.  
Monsieur de Beaudevis to command The Army of Rossillon to be Commanded by Monsieur le Bret.   
I fancy, that after this account of the Land-Armies, you may likewise be desirous to know the force by Sea, and that theseveral names of the Ships may divertize,  

A LIST of the several Ships of the Fleet, appointed for Service this year 1672.  


At Rochefort. Names of the Captains and Ships.  
Monsieur de Rabinieres. Le Superbe, 1300 Tuns, 70 Guns.  
Monsieur Gabaret. LeFoudrogant, 1300 Tuns, 68 Guns  
Monsieur Gombaut. Le Grand, 1100 Tuns, 64 Guns.  
Monsieur Michaut. LeConquerant, 1100 Tuns, 64 Guns  
Monsieur de Grancay. L' Illustre, 1100 Tuns, 70 Guns.  
Monsieur de Beaulieu. L' Admirable, 1100 Tuns, 70 Guns  
Mons. Le Comandeur de Verdille, L' Invincible, 1100 Tuns, 70 Guns  
Monsieur Destivall, Le Sanspareil, 1100 Tuns, 62 Guns  
Monsieur D'Ymagnion, L' Excellent, 1000 Tuns, 56 Guns  
Monsieur de Blenac, Le Fort, 1000 Tuns, 54 Guns.  
Monsieur de Tourville, Le Gallant, 700 Tuns, 44 Guns.  
Monsieur de Villeneuf Ferier, Le Brillant, 600 Tuns, 40 Guns.  
Monsieur de la Vigery, Le Hazardeux, 550 Tuns, 34 Guns    


Fireships.  
Monsieur Rocachon. Le Fin.  
Monsieur Ozcer Thomas, Le Perilleux.  
Monsieur Vidaut, Le Voile.  
Monsieur du Rivault, L' Inconnu.  
Monsieur Serpaut, De Deguise.  
Monsieur Chabosseau. L' Entreprenant.    


At Breast.  
Monsieur Le Comte d' Estrees, L' St. Philip Admiral.  
Monsieur de Quesne, Lieutenant General. Le Terrible.  
Monsieur des Ardans', Le Tonnant.  
Monsieur de Vallebelle, Le Brave.  
Monsieur de Suerdis, Le valiant.  
Monsieur de Larcou, Le Temeraire.  
Monsieur de Quyovet, L' Oriflame.  
Monsieur de Queruville, Le Bourbon.  
Monsieur d' Infreville, Le Rubes.  
Monsieur Desbeville, Le Duc.  
Monsieur de Coquelin, Lacolle.  
Monsieur Panetier, L' Heureux.  
Monsieur de Bleor, L' Altion.  
Monsieur La Rocque Souftreet, Le Hardy.    


Light Frigates.  
Monsieur— Lafoy Tempest.  
Monsieur de Bellemont, L' Aurora.  
Monsieur de Gravencon, La Railleuse.  
Monsieur de St. Michael, La Subtle.  
Monsieur de Grosbois, La Lutine.  
Monsieur Delmonts, La Galliard.    


Brulots.  
Le Trompeur.  
Le Serpent.    


Foists. Two Tartans.  
Monsieur du Quesne is to Guard the Coast of Rochel with a Squadron of fourteen Ships.  
Monsieur Martel to Command a Squadron of fourteen Ships for a Reserve.     
Paris 23 April 1672.   

Letter XIX.  
MAdam, I now send you a part of the New Books are lately published by Monsieur Barbin. The Beralde, of an unknown Author, you will find well writ. The Exiles of Madam de Velledieu, will divertize you extremely; the Contrivances are well laid, and delicately handled; and that witty Lady, all whose Writings have yet gained applause, will deserve renewed Praises. I send you likewise the Second Tome of the Works of Monsieur le Paiis. The former had great success, be you Judge of this. I will send to you within this eight days a new Book of Monsieur Menage; they are farther Observations on the French Tongue Though a work is not always to be valued by its success, yet may we judge of the worth of this by the general repute it has gained, since it is with Justice it pleases; and I doubt not but in a little time in stead of saying, Parlour Vaugelas, (speak, Vaugelas) to praise those that speak well, we shall say, Parlour Menage. This great man (for so we may call him for his abundance of Learning) exposes now all the different manners of speaking which signify, or which we would have signify the same thing; he quotes all those have made use of them, and after having given their true derivation, determines for the most part in favour of Custom, which he says is the Sovereign Master of Language, which we should most apply ourselves to, and following which, though we break the Rules, we yet speak well. This decision of so famous an Author, will be very profitable, and will in the future bring all the world to understand and speak things in the same way, the contrary of which has been practised hitherto: for some knowing men have spoke according to Custom, and others according to fancy, that is, sometimes one way, sometimes another, which in time has much obscured the Language. Therefore Madam, all France is much obliged to Monsieur Menage for the pains he has taken to teach them to speak. Do but observe the Authors he quotes: Monsieur Vaugelas, whom he often approves, and often condemns; Messieurs Balzack, Malherbe, Sarazin, Vecture, Mamard, St. Amant, Brebeuf, Ablancourt, Colletet, Gombaut, the Father Rapine, Racon, Mairet, the Father Chiflet, Desmarests, Gomberville, the Abbot Chasteliu, the Abbot Sassy, Mereray, Sorel, Charpentier, Briauville, the Bishop of Vauce, Pellison la Mothe, le Vayer, the Father Bohours, Patru, Chapelain, Segrais, Marolles, Benserade, Corneille, Dandilly, the Author of the Count du Gabalis, Bary, La Fountain, Talleucant, Messieurs du Port Royal, and Madamoiselle de Scudery. I have not observed the degrees of these Great Wits, 'twould be too bold an Enterprise: Monsieur Menage has not observed them, not having quoted them, but as he had occasion of their Works to authorise his opinions. He has spoken of some a dozen others, but their Worth being grown old, I thought it not necessary to enlarge my Letter with their Names.  
The King has given the Seals to Monsieur D' Aligre: I have told you his Worth already, and his sundry Employs and Embassies: His Majesty, at making him this Great Present, spoke much in his praise; letting, by what he said, all the World know the Confidence he had in him. It is to be observed that a Chancellors Son was never before made Keeper of the Seal.  
All Paris are running every day to the Fathers of the Oratory, to see the Mausoleum of the Late Chancellor, erected by the Contrivance of Monsieur de Brun, When I have seen it, I will tell you more, both of the Work and the Contriver.  
The Physicians in a Body, and in their Doctor's Habit, and having the Sieur Puylon their Director in the head of them, have been at St. Germains to compliment the Three Principal Physicians to their Majesties. What a brave thing it is to have these Employments which bring Honour, and something else.  
The Equipages of the King, Monsieur, the Princes and Officers of the Army, are gone hence this Week. Never was any thing seen so great, and for eight days all the Windows were filled with People, as at a Public Entrance. Among this great number of Mules, Horses and Chariots richly covered, were to be seen fourscore Wagons, whose cover were not so rich and gaudy as those of the Chariots, but they were better lined, and the Horses could hardly draw them. They were loaden, as 'tis said, with what we call the Nerves and Sinews of War, and guarded with the King's Gend'arms and Light-horse. The Covetous looked with greedy eyes on this great mass of Money: Mothers wished it for portions for their Daughters, Lovers to make Presents to their Mistresses, and Debtors to pay their Debts; In short, every one wished to supply his occasions, and the least interessed had their thoughts too. That which was most pleasant in it, was, that every one believed what he wished for would not much lessen the sum, nor do the King or his Armies any wrong; and yet had this Money been to be distributed according to every one's wish, there must many yet have remained unsatisfied, and not a denier of it gone out of Paris.  
If the Equipages during the last week have filled all the streets of Paris, the old Castle of St.  has been as full of those who went to take their leaves of the King. The Ambassador of England has taken it for a long time, being to return to the King his Master; he is of the House of the Montagues, which is no less Honourable in England, then well known in France. He is a man of excellent Parts, of which the particular respect he has ever shown here to men of knowledge, is a sufficient Witness. He leaves them very melancholy for his departure, and some Ladies of very great reputation are sharers in their sorrow, with whom he used to spend the time he could spare from the serious business of his Employ; he presented to the King the Sieur de Godolphin, who is to stay with his Majesty during this Campaigne. The Ambassador of Savoy, the Swedish Resident, and the extraordinary Envoys of Mentz and Genova, took likewise leave of his Majesty, and so did all the Sovereign Courts, and the Provost of the Merchants. All the Bishops that are here, were there likewise, and all persons of any consideration imitated them. These marks of respect and love to the greatest of Kings had never ended, if his Majesty's Warlike ardour had not made him leave St.  sooner than he intended. He is gone with a small Train; but he is gone to find an Army so great, and numerous, that never any of his Predecessors saw the like. His Majesty hath left the administration of Affairs to the Queen, with a Counsel composed of the Keeper of the Seal Villeroy le Tellier and Colbert. Their merit is so well known, that I can say nothing to their advantage, which will not be infinitely below it, or which has not been ten thousand times said.  
I should in my Letter concerning the new Modes have told you of some words, which though they be not new, yet are at present a la mode. Par toute Terre (through the whole World) is one of them, and when they would speak highly of any thing that it is approved or pleases, etc. They will say they talk of that Par toute Terre, That is liked Par toute Terre, That is approved Par toute Terre. The Gallants now scarce speak fifty words without using that ten times, as well as the word Violant, which is much worse applied to all they use it for, to say, That is troublesome, they will say, Cela est violant; to express he has wrong, they say the same, and seem to affect to make it serve to express things with which it has not the least agreement. I believe, Madam, you never heard of the like Foppery; those who have hitherto invented new words or expressions, have studied to make the best they could signify what they would say. The Verb Desoler is no less a la mode; and now when any one would say, That another is troublesome she says, Qu'elle la desole; when they would say, One is melancholy, they say, Qu'on est desole; and in short, they apply this word to any thing has any pain or trouble in it.  
I cannot resolve to close this Letter, till I give you a Story I have just now learned.  
Megius a learned man, and known by many fine works, was lately at a Ladies, his friends accompanied with Bretius a young man of great wit, but who was not very forward in showing it, having been there a good while, and said nothing. This Lady (Megius his friend) was an admirer of Astrology, and believed she knew something of it, which was enough to begin a discourse of it. That brought on others, and at last they talked of fixing of Mercury; Megius said, That if they would send for some, he would fix it; some was presently brought, and he did what he had promised, to the Ladies great amazement, and more to an Astrologers, her friend, that was with her. This pretended ginger asked him how he came to know what he had done, if he had learned it by reading, if any one had showed it him; or if by some chance he had hit of it, or by Art had found out the secret. By one of these ways indeed, answered Megius, I learned what you have now seen me do; for look you there, said he, turning to Bretius, who had yet spoke only Monosyllables, is he that taught me what I have now done; both the Lady and her friend presently cast their Eyes upon him, they viewed him from head to foot, and blamed themselves in private, that his silence had made him pass with them for a man of no Sense. They offered him now a thousand praises, and spoke of him with admiration: In the remainder of the conversation, he made them perceive he had his share of wit; but instead of satisfying their curiosity in what they desired, he only told them things that inflamed them the more, and made them passionately desire to unite a firm friendship with him. night coming on, obliged them to part sooner than they would have done, for every one had his design, as you will understand by the sequel of the story.  
The ginger, whom I shall hereafter call Zoroaster, came to see Bretius the next morning, and expressed such a vehement desire to learn his secret, that the young man, who had long wished for some body to make a Fop of, was mighty glad to have found one. Zoroaster on his part pretermited nothing might engage his friendship; presented him, gave him great treats, and all yet to no purpose; for the young man, who had resolved to make himself sport, and was mightily pleased with these treats, had the cunning to delay him so long, till himself was almost weary of it. At length the day broke, which was to enlighten Zoroaster Knowledge, and all things being prepared, Bretius weighs a little Ball of Wax which he had brought with him, and which weighed almost nothing, and put it into the _____ and told Zoroaster after having covered it, that it must stand two hours without being looked on, and that in the mean time he might go to his Closet, and cast a Figure to see if the work should have good effect. The two hours being run out, they found there very good Silver, at least it appeared so to the eyes of Zoroaster, who went presently to show it three or four Gld-smiths, who affirmed it as good as any they had in their Shops. His Caresses now to Bretius cannot be described; he almost smothered him with kindness, and treated him like a man who was able to teach him a secret, by which he hoped to become master of more treasure than all the Kings of Europe; swelled with these hopes, he conjured him to give him where withal only to make Silver. Bretius gave him one of his Balls, but it melted, and came to nothing with our ginger. Hecomplains to Bretius of it, who told him his curiosity was the cause, which had made him too soon remove the Cover, he did it over again with him, and it succeeded as before. Zoroaster was convinced, and one day tells the Prince of it, than again tell Bretius what he had said of him: The young man was in a Peck of Troubles, and was forced to acknowledge it was but a trick of Legerdemain, and to show him his cunning, and so things stopped there. There are many people suffer themselves to be cheated by such fine outward appearances. Me thinks, Madam, this Letter is somewhat long; I know not whether it may divertize you, or whether any of the former have pleased you: But I know I will use my endeavour to find out things so pleasant and delightful, that if it be possible you shall be satisfied.  
Paris May 1. 1672.  
FINIS.