pension which monsieur Scaron had enjoyed. In order to this, petitions were frequently given in, which began always with, The widow Scaron most humbly prays your majesty,' &c. But all these petitions signified nothing; and the king was so weary of them that he has been heard to say, 'Must I always be pestered with the widow Scaron?' Notwithstanding which, her friends were resolved not to be discouraged in their endeavours to serve her.

After this, she quitted the convent, and went to live in the hotel d'Albert, where her husband had always been very much esteemed. Here (it is said) something very remarkable happen

days been contriving with myself how to extricate you out of all your difficulties. At last I have fallen upon two ways of doing what I so much desire; I leave you to determine according to your inclinations, in the choice of the one or the other: or, if neither of them please you, to refuse them both. My fortunes are too narrow to enable me to make yours an. swerable to your merit; all that I am capable of doing is, either to make you a joint partaker with myself of the little I have, or to place you, at my own expense, in any convent you shall choose. I wish it were in my power to do more for you. Consult your own inclinations, and do what you think will be most agreeable to your-ed to her, which I shall relate, because I find it self. As for my person, I do not pretend to recommend it to you; I know I make but an ungainly figure; but I am not able to new mould it; I offer myself to you such as I am; and yet, such as you see me, I do assure you that I would not bestow myself upon another; and that I must have a very great esteem for you, ever to propose a marriage, which, of all things in the world, I have had the least in my thoughts hitherto. Consider, therefore, and take your final resolutions, either to turn nun, or to marry me, or to continue in your present condition, without repining, since these do all of them depend upon your own choice.

so confidently affirmed upon the knowledge of a certain author. There were masons at work in the hotel d'Albert, not far from the apartment of madam Scaron. One of them came into her chamber, and, finding two or three visitants of her own sex, desired he might speak with her in private; she carried him into her closet, where he took upon him to tell her all the future events of her life. But whence he drew this knowledge (continues my author,) which time has so wonderfully verified, is a mystery still to me. As to madam Scaron, she saw then so little appearance of probability in his predictions, that she hardly gave the least Mademoiselle Daubigné returned monsieur heed to them. Nevertheless, the company, upon Scaron the thanks he so well deserved. She her return, remarked some alteration in her was too sensible of the disagreeableness of a countenance; and one of the ladies said, 'Surely dependant state, not to be glad to accept of a this man has brought you some very pleasing settlement that would place her at least above news, for you look with a more cheerful air want. Finding, therefore, in herself no call than you did before he came in.' 'There would towards a nunnery, she answered monsieur be sufficient reason for my doing so,' replied Scaron without hesitation, that, she had too she, if I could give any credit to what this felgreat a sense of her obligations to him not to low has promised me. And I can tell you," be desirous of that way of life that would give says she, smiling, that if there should be any her the most frequent occasions of showing her thing in it, you will do well to begin to make gratitude to him.' Scaron, who was prepos- your court to me beforehand.' These ladies sessed with the flattering hopes of passing his could not prevail upon her to satisfy their culife with a person he liked so well, was charmed riosity any farther; but she communicated the with her answer. They both came to a resolu-whole secret to a bosom friend after they were tion, that he should ask her relation's consent that very evening. She gave it very frankly; and this marriage, so soon concluded, was, as it were, the inlet to all the future fortunes of madam Maintenon. She made a good wife to Scaron, living happily with him, and wanted no conveniences during his life; but losing him, she lost all his pension ceased upon his death; and she found herself again reduced to the same indigent condition in which she had been before her marriage.

Upon this she retired into the convent in the Place Royale, founded for the relief of necessitous persons; where the friends of her deceased husband took care of her. It was here the friendship between her and madam Saint Basile (a nun) had its beginning, which has continued ever since, for she still goes to visit her fre. quently in the convent de la Raquette, where she now lives. And, to the honour of madam Maintenon, it must be allowed, that she has always been of a grateful temper, and mindful, in her high fortunes, of her old friends, to whom she had formerly been obliged.

Her husband's friends did all they could to prevail upon the court to continue to her the

gone; and it is from that lady it came to be known, when the events foretold were come to pass, and so scrupulous a secrecy in that point did no longer seem necessary.

Some time after this, she was advised to seek all occasions of insinuating herself into the favour of madam Mountespan, who was the king's mistress, and had an absolute influence over him. Madam Scaron, therefore, found the means of being presented to madam Mountespan, and at that time spoke to her with so good a grace, that madam Mountespan, pitying her circumstances, and resolving to make them more easy, took upon her to carry a petition from her to the king, and to deliver it with her own hands. The king, upon her presenting it to him, said, 'What! the widow Scaron again? Shall I never see any thing else?' 'Indeed, sir,' says madam Mountespan, it is now a long time since you ought not to have had her name mentioned to you any more; and it is something extraordinary that your majesty has done nothing all this while for a poor woman, who, without exception, deserves a much better condition, as well upon the account of her own merit, as of the reputation of her late husband.'

Next morning, as soon as he was drest, he Ir is the general opinion, that madam Mainwent directly to make a visit to madam Moun- tenon has of late years influenced all the meatespan. What happy genius, madam,' says sures of the court of France. The king, when he, upon his first coming into her chamber, he has taken the air after dinner, never fails of 'influenced your thoughts last night? Never going to sit with her till about ten o'clock; at certainly was there any thing so charming, which time he leaves her to go to his supper. and so finely writ, as the billet you sent me! The comptroller general of the finances likeand if you truly feel the tenderness you have so wise comes to her apartments to meet the king. well described, my happiness is complete.' Ma- While they are in discourse madam Maintedam Mountespan was in confusion with these non sits at her wheel towards the other end of praises, which properly belonged to another; the room, not seeming to give the least attenand she could not help betraying something of tion to what is said. Nevertheless, the minisit by her blushes. The king perceived the dis. ter never makes a proposition to the king, but order she was in, and was earnest to know the his majesty turns towards her, and says, 'What cause of it. She would fain have put it off; but think you, madam, of this?' She expresses her the king's curiosity still increasing, in propor- opinion after a modest manner; and whatsoever tion to the excuses she made, she was forced to she says is done. Madam Maintenon never aptell him all that had passed, lest he should of pears in public except when she goes with the himself imagine something worse. The king king to take the air; and then she sits on the was extremely surprised, though in civility he same seat with the king, with her spectacles on, dissembled his thoughts at that time, neverthe-working a piece of embroidery, and does not

seem to be so much as sensible of the great for- | no purpose; and he told her it was not a thing tunes and honours to which she has raised her. to be done. She asked him, if it was father La self. She is always very modestly drest, and Chaise who dissuaded him from it. He for never appears with any train of servants. Every some time refused to give her any answer, but morning she goes to St. Cyr, to give her orders at last overcome by her importunities, he told there, it being a kind of a nursery founded by her every thing as it had passed. She upon herself for the education of young ladies of good this dissembled her resentment, that she might families, but no fortune. She returns from be the more able to make it prove effectual. She thence about the time the king rises, who never did by no means think the Jesuit was to be forfails to pay her a morning visit. She goes to given; but the first marks of her vengeance fell mass always by break of day, to avoid the con- upon the archbishop of Cambray. He and all course of people. She is rarely seen by any, his relations were, in a little time, put out of all and almost inaccessible to every body, excepting their employments at court; upon which he three or four particular acquaintance of her retired to live quietly upon his bishopric; and own sex. Whether it be, that she would by there have no endeavours been spared to deprive this conduct avoid envy, as some think; or, as him even of that. As a farther instance of the others would have it, that she is afraid the rank uncontrollable power of this great favourite, which she thinks due to her should be disputed and of her resenting even the most trivial matin all visits and public places, is doubtful. It ters that she thinks might tend to her prejudice, is certain, that upon all occasions she declines or the diminution of her honour, it is remarkathe taking of any rank; and the title of marble, that the Italian comedians were driven out quisse (which belongs to the lands the king purchased for her) is suppressed before her name; neither will she accept of the title of a duchess, aspiring in all probability at something still higher, as will appear by what follows.

of Paris, for playing a comedy called La Fausse Prude, which was supposed to reflect upon madam Maintenon in particular.

It is something very extraordinary, that she has been able to keep entire the affections of the king so many years. after her youth and beauty were gone, and never fall into the least disgrace; notwithstanding the number of enemies she has had, and the intrigues that have been formed against her from time to time. This brings into my memory a saying of king William's, that I have heard on this occasion;

From several particulars in the conduct of the French king, as well as in that of madam Maintenon, it has for some years been the prevailing opinion of the court that they are married. And it is said, that her ambition of being declared queen broke out at last; and that she was resolved to give the king no quiet till it was done. He for some time resisted all her solicit- That the king of France was in his conduct ations upon that head, but at length, in a fit of quite opposite to other princes; since he made tenderness and good nature, he promised her, choice of young ministers, and an old mistress. that he would consult his confessor upon that But this lady's charms have not lain so much point. Madam Maintenon was pleased with in her person, as in her wit and good sense. this, not doubting but that father La Chaise She has always had the address to flatter the would be glad of this occasion of making his vanity of the king, and to mix always somecourt to her; but he was too subtle a courtier thing solid and useful with the more agreeable not to perceive the danger of engaging in so parts of her conversation. She has known how nice an affair; and for that reason evaded it, to introduce the most serious affairs of state by telling the king, that he did not think him- into their hours of pleasure; by telling his maself a casuist able enough to decide a question | jesty, that a monarch should not love, nor do of so great importance, and for that reason de-any thing, like other men; and that he, of all sired he might consult with some man of skill and learning, for whose secrecy he would be responsible. The king was apprehensive lest this might make the matter too public; but as soon as father La Chaise named monsieur Fenelon, the archbishop of Cambray, his fears were over; and he bid him go and find him out. As soon as the confessor had communicated the busi-mainder of her life with honour, in the abbey ness he came upon to the bishop, he said, 'What have I done, father, that you should ruin me! But 'tis no matter; let us go to the king.' His majesty was in his closet expecting them. The bishop was no sooner entered, but he threw himself at the king's feet, and begged of him not to sacrifice him. The king promised him that he would not; and then proposed the case to him. The bishop, with his usual sincerity, represented to him the great prejudice he would do himself by declaring his inarriage, together with the ill consequences that might attend such a proceeding. The king very much approved his reasons, and resolved to go no farther in this affair. Madam Maintenon still pressed him to comply with her, but it was now all to

men living, knew best how to be always a king and always like himself, even in the midst of his diversions. The king now converses with her as a friend, and advises with her upon his most secret affairs. He has a true love and esteem for her; and has taken care, in case ho should die before her, that she may pass the re

of St. Cyr. There are apartments ready fitted up for her in this place; she and all her domestics are to be maintained out of the rents of the house, and she is to receive all the honours due to a foundress. This abbey stands in the park of Versailles; it is a fine piece of building, and the king has endowed it with large revenues. The design of it, (as I have mentioned before) is to maintain and educate young ladies, whose fortunes do not answer to their birth. None are accounted duly qualified for this place but such as can give sufficient proofs of the nobility of their family on the father's side for a hundred and forty years; besides which, they must have a certificate of their poverty under the hand of their bishop. The age at which persons are

capable of being admitted here is from seven | pleasures are which will give us the least unyears old till twelve. Lastly, it is required, that easiness in the pursuit, and the greatest satisthey should have no defect or blemish of body faction in the enjoyment of them. Hence it or mind; and for this reason there are persons follows, that the objects of our natural desires appointed to visit and examine them before they are cheap, or easy to be obtained, it being a are received into the college. When these young maxim that holds throughout the whole system ladies are once admitted, their parents and rela-of created beings, that nothing is made in tions have no need to put themselves to any vain,' much less the instincts and appetites of farther expense or trouble about them. They animals, which the benevolence as well as wis are provided with all necessaries for mainte-dom of the Deity, is concerned to provide for. nance and education. They style themselves of the order of St. Lewis. When they arrive to an age to be able to choose a state of life for themselves, they may either be placed as nuns in some convent at the king's expense, or be married to some gentleman, whom madam Maintenon takes care, upon that condition, to provide for, either in the army or in the finances; and the lady receives besides, a portion of four hundred pistoles. Most of these marriages have proved very successful; and several gentlemen have by them made great fortunes, and been advanced to very considerable employ

ments.

I must conclude this short account of madam Maintenon with advertising my readers, that I do not pretend to vouch for the several particulars that I have related. All I can say is, that a great many of them are attested by several writers; and that I thought this sketch of a woman so remarkable all over Europe, would be no ill entertainment to the curious, till such a time as some pen, more fully instructed in her whole life and character, shall undertake to give it to the public.

It is of great use to consider the pleasures which constitue human happiness, as they are distinguished into natural and fantastical. Natural pleasures I call those, which, not depending on the fashion and caprice of any particular age or nation, are suited to human nature in general, and were intended by Providence as rewards for the using our faculties agreeably to the ends for which they were given us. Fantastical pleasures are those which, having no natural fitness to delight our minds, pre-suppose some particular whim or taste accidentally prevailing in a set of people, to which it is owing that they please.

Now I take it, that the tranquillity and cheerfulness with which I have passed my life, are the effect of having, ever since I came to years of discretion, continued my inclinations to the former sort of pleasures. But as my experience can be a rule only to my own actions, it may probably be a stronger motive to induce others to the same scheme of life, if they would consider that we are prompted to natural pleasures by an instinct impressed on our minds by the Author of our nature, who best understands our frames, and consequently best knows what those

Nor is the fruition of those objects less pleasing than the acquisition is easy; and the pleasure is heightened by the sense of having answered some natural end, and the consciousness of acting in concert with the Supreme Governor of the universe.

Under natural pleasures I comprehend those which are universally suited, as well to the rational as the sensual part of our nature. And of the pleasures which affect our senses, those only are to be esteemed natural that are contain ed within the rules of reason, which is allowed to be as necessary an ingredient of human nature as sense. And, indeed, excesses of any kind are hardly to be esteemed pleasures, much less natural pleasures.

It is evident, that a desire terminated in mo. ney is fantastical; so is the desire of outward distinctions, which bring no delight of sense, nor recommend us as useful to mankind; and the desire of things merely because they are new or foreign. Men who are indisposed to a due exertion of their higher parts are driven to such pursuits as these from the restlessness of the mind, and the sensitive appetites being easily satisfied. It is, in some sort, owing to the bounty of Providence, that disdaining a cheap and vulgar happiness, they frame to themselves ima. ginary goods, in which there is nothing can raise desire, but the difficulty of obtaining them. Thus men become the contrivers of their own misery, as a punishment on themselves for de. parting from the measures of nature. Having by an habitual reflection on these truths made them familiar, the effect is, that I, among a number of persons who have debauched their natural taste, see things in a peculiar light, which I have arrived at, not by any uncommon force of genius, or acquired knowledge, but only by unlearning the false notions instilled by custom and education.

The various objects that compose the world were by nature formed to delight our senses, and as it is this alone that makes them desirable to an uncorrupted taste, a man may be said natu rally to possess them, when he possesseth those enjoyments which they are fitted by nature to yield. Hence it is usual with me to consider myself as having a natural property in every object that administers pleasure to me. When I am in the country, all the fine seats near the place of my residence, and to which I have access, I regard as mine. The same I think of the groves and fields where I walk, and muse on the folly of the civil landlord in London, who has the fantastical pleasure of draining dry rent into his coffers, but is a stranger to fresh air and rural enjoyments. By these principles I am possessed of half a dozen of the finest seats in England, which in the eye of the law belon, to

certain of my acquaintance, who being men of business choose to live near the court.

In some great families, where I choose to pass my time, a stranger would be apt to rank me with the other domestics; but in my own thoughts, and natural judgment, I am master of the house, and he who goes by that name is my steward, who eases me of the care of providing for myself the conveniences and pleasures of life.

I do not envy a great man with a great crowd at his levee. And I often lay aside thoughts of going to an opera, that I may enjoy the silent pleasure of walking by moonlight, or viewing the stars sparkle in their azure ground; which I look upon as part of my possessions, not with. out a secret indignation at the tastelessness of mortal men, who in their race through life over. look the real enjoyments of it.

But the pleasure which naturally affects a hu. When I walk the streets, I use the foregoing man mind with the most lively and transporting natural maxim (viz. That he is the true posses-touches, I take to be the sense that we act in sor of a thing who enjoys it, and not he that the eye of infinite wisdom, power, and goodness, owns it without the enjoyment of it,) to con- that will crown our virtuous endeavours here, vince myself that I have a property in the gay with a happiness hereafter, large as our desires, part of all the gilt chariots that I meet, which I and lasting as our immortal souls. This is a regard as amusements designed to delight my perpetual spring of gladness in the mind. This eyes, and the imagination of those kind people lessens our calamities, and doubles our joys. who sit in them gaily attired only to please me. Without this the highest state of life is insipid, I have a real, and they only an imaginary plea- and with it the lowest is a paradise. What unsure from their exterior embellishments. Upon natural wretches then are those who can be so the same principle, I have discovered that I am stupid as to imagine a merit, in endeavouring the natural proprietor of all the diamond neck-to rob virtue of her support, and a man of his laces, the crosses, stars, brocades, and embroi- present as well as future bliss? But as I have dered clothes, which I see at a play or birth-frequently taken occasion to animadvert on that night, as giving more natural delight to the species of mortals, so I propose to repeat my ani. spectator than to those that wear them. And I madversions on them till I see some symptoms look on the beaux and ladies as so many paro- of amendment. quets in an aviary, or tulips in a garden, de. signed purely for ny diversion. A gallery of pictures, a cabinet, or library, that I have free access to, I think my own. In a word, all that I desire is the use of things, let who will have the keeping of them. By which maxim I am grown one of the richest men in Great Britain; with this difference, that I am not a prey to my own cares, or the envy of others.

No. 50.]

Friday, May 8, 1713.

O rus, quando ego te aspiciam ?

Hor. Lib. 2. Sat. vi. 60.

O! when shall I enjoy my country seat?

Creech.

THE perplexities and diversions, recounted in the following letter, are represented with some pleasantry; I shall, therefore, make this epistle the entertainment of the day.

The same principles I find of great use in my private economy. As I cannot go to the price of history-painting, I have purchased at easy rates several beautifully designed pieces of landscape and perspective, which are much more pleasing to a natural taste than unknown faces To Nestor Ironside, Esquire. or Dutch gambols, though done by the best mas ters; my couches, beds, and window-curtains 'SIR,-The time of going into the country are of Irish stuff, which those of that nation drawing near, I am extremely enlivened with work very fine, and with a delightful mix-the agreeable memorial of every thing that con. ture of colours. There is not a piece of china in my house; but I have glasses of all sorts, and some tinged with the finest colours, which are not the less pleasing, because they are domestic, and cheaper than foreign toys. Every thing is neat, entire, and clean, and fitted to the taste of one who had rather be happy than be thought rich.

Every day, numberless innocent and natural gratifications occur to me, while I behold my fellow-creatures labouring in a toilsome and ab. surd pursuit of trifles; one that he may be called by a particular appellation; another, that he may wear a particular ornament, which I regard as a bit of riband that has an agreeable effect on my sight, but is so far from supplying the place of merit where it is not, that it serves only to make the want of it more conspicuous. Fair weather is the joy of my soul; about noon I behold a blue sky with rapture, and receive great consolation from the rosy dashes of light which adorn the clouds of the morning and evening. When I am lost anong green trees

tributed to my happiness when I was last there. In the recounting of which, I shall not dwell so much upon the verdure of the fields, the shade of woods, the trilling of rivulets, or melody of birds, as upon some particular satisfactions, which, though not merely rural, must naturally create a desire of seeing that place, where only I have met with them. As to my passage I shall make no other mention, than of the pomp. ous pleasure of being whirled along with six horses, the easy grandeur of lolling in a hand. some chariot, the reciprocal satisfaction the in. habitants of all towns and villages received from, and returned to, passengers of such distinction, The gentleman's seat (with whom, among others, I had the honour to go down) is the remains of an ancient castle which has suffered very much for the loyalty of its inhabitants. The ruins of the several turrets and strong holds gave my imagination more pleasant exercise than the most magnificent structure could, as I look upon the honourable wounds of a defaced soldier with more veneration than the most exact proportion