THE FIRST CONVERSATION.

THE Mareshal of C. is a Person justly deserving the Character of a gallant Man, who understands the World perfectly well. He hath spent his time for the most part either at the Court or in the Army; and there are but very few who have had a greater share than he of those natural parts, which renders a man both able and agreeable. Notwithstand­ing his little impediment, he expresses himself gracefully; he loves rather to speak than to hear others, whether it be that o­thers seldom answer his expectation, or ra­ther (as 'tis thought) that he takes delight to make himself admired. It is above two years since he began to be ill; all the Phy­sicians who have been with him, and the Waters of Bourbon have not cured him: it is a distemper which hath not at all seized on his Spirits, for he never had them more [Page 10] lively nor pure, nay nor more pleasant. He was for some time with Madam Mareschale to breathe (as they say) his native Air; but it seldom happens that a Courtier, who is sick at the Court, can think himself bet­ter at his Country-house. Madam Mares­chale was upon her return to Paris, and the Mareshal came to Poictiers, where he was six or seven months; where-ever he is, he endeavours to divert himself, and delights to please others: and as there is nothing so inconsiderable, which a great man when he undertakes it, cannot set a value upon; the Mareshal, knew so well how to im­prove the least occasions of pleasure, that where-ever he was, Divertisement was ne­ver wanting. One day finding himself bet­ter than he used to be, he desired the com­pany of some Ladies at Dinner with him, which was not of those kind of Feasts, where many times there is nothing pleases but such a delicate and so well chosen an Entertainment, that there was nothing more to be desired. Ladies Meals common­ly are not very long, whether it be that they love not that kind of excess, or that they distrust themselves, and think they should abate of that modesty which gains [Page 11] them a respect. As soon as they rose from Table, every one began to divide Compa­nies, some to play, others to look on. The Mareshal, who was only a Spectator, spake according to his custom many pleasant things; but Play being imployment enough of it self, and because the Losers commonly are not in humour to be delighted with Wit, he thought it best to say little, and to avoid the occasion which tempts the most reserved. He drew the Chevalier aside, and going into another Room, You may easily believe (said he) that I am very glad to see you, but I must assure you further, that I find my self something better for seeing you: and to say truth, after having try­ed so many remedies to recover me of an illness, which Melancholy would not at all lessen, I have now nothing to seek after but Mirth.

The Chevalier who studied how to divert him, asked him what he had most mind to do. I was more willing to entertain him, answered the Mareshal than play with the Ladies, we will discourse of certain things which are not commonly learned in the Commerce of the World. I never wished any thing so much as that I were a little less [Page 12] ignorant, and when I converse with you in particular, methinks I rid my self of it with­out any study or instructions. The least thing that you relate to me of Socrates sinks very deep into my mind, and I hope one day I shall be heard to cite divine Plato as the Lady does who hath a good Wit, and delights very much to discourse upon every thing. Wit (said the Chevalier) is always ac­ceptable, and Women also in my opinion cannot have too much of it; but most people approve not of their being so knowing, or at least that they should shew it; and may not this Lady you speak of, be the same who had given you the Idea of those whom you represented so pleasantly the other day. I never saw any thing better imitated nor more to my liking; without doubt it is not enough to have Wit, but he must be an extreme well-bred man that can know how to be pleasant after such a manner. I a­gree with you, said the Mareshal that among persons that know how to judge, one cannot be too well accomplisht to be as pleasant as one would desire, because that most people have not a delicate taste, nor are able to discern that which is best; it often happens that they are taken, nay even charmed with [Page 13] certain ridiculous parts they play to them: but well bred persons do not use such kind of Buffonnery. You know very well that there are some persons who are pleasant Company, and who notwithstanding are not beloved, and for whom few are con­cerned. I do not think that any one hath reason to envy such kind of persons: but those who are pleasant indeed after the best manner, never fail of gaining the heart, and 'tis in that way that I should be glad to please. One cannot shew too much Wit in a pleasant Conversation, yet one must have a care not to be too forward, as if you would appear always ready to make Jests, and speak fine things: there is something of a free easie way which cannot be exprest, that has a better effect. Neither is it good to be too reserved, nor affect singularity too much: when one is arrived to such a degree of Merit, an open and complaisant Carriage hath very great Charms to at­tract Love; what advantages soever any one hath, they must be pleased with others, if they would have others pleased with them. I observe that there are some Fooleries which are currant amongst some people, which do not much credit those that use [Page 14] them, they are rather the subject of scorn than laughter to those that rightly under­stand.

They are laughed at, added the Chevalier as that Queen of Egypt laughed at the fine words and pretty conceits of Anthony. How, replied the Mareshal that Anthony who was one of Cæsars Generals, who disputed the Em­pire with Augustus? Oh that pretty Egypti­an! and what could she find in him to ex­cept against. The Chevalier then giving him to understand, that it might be something of bluntness, he being in Armor, and always drest Souldier-like, I see by that, answered the Mareshal that there was in those days your Virtuoso's and nice conceited Ladies, which I thought had been an Invention of our times. You approve not then, said the Chevalier, that the Princess should be so difficult of access, or that so much Wit should be necessary to be imployed in gain­ing her favour; but for all that, I fancy that you have least reason of any person in the World to dislike it: for I believe it would be to your advantage, if there were such nice Genius in all Courts where you come: methinks for that only reason you should love them; for when things are spo­ken [Page 15] or done with an ill grace, do you not think that a little disdain or aversion shewed, becomes a Lady very well, so as it be but just enough to give one cause to guess that it is so?

I am of your Judgment, said the Mare­shal, but there is a kind of an affected deli­cacy, which cannot allow of any thing which one is not accustomed to see, and despises rigorously every thing that is not greater or no longer in the Mode, which seems to me to proceed from a dark under­standing or want of wit.

But to return to our nice Queen, was it not unreasonable in her to expect, that a man who is bred to Arms, should shew no­thing of his Profession, but when he faces the Enemy? How is it possible that any one can spend his life in the Wars, and not smell a little of the Souldier? The Wars, said the Chevalier, we must grant to be the finest imployment in the World; but to take it right, a well bred man hath no Pro­fession at all: For though he understands a thing perfectly well, and is in a manner obliged to pass his life in it, it seems to me, that neither his Actions nor his Converse should shew any signs of it, he takes too deep [Page 16] a tincture of nothing, and his Wit and good Sense teaches him how to behave himself on all occasions. What a fine Idæa you give me, cryed the Mareshal, I am much pleased with fancying to my self our young Prince to be of this kind of Wit: we cannot take a more noble Subject to entertain our selves withal, and you know that very few days pass wherein I speak not something of him. I remember very well where we left when we were interrupted. I was asking, whether you were not of that opinion, that it would do well for him to learn the Language of the ancient Romans, which is spoken by so many good men and such a number of Em­perors. It is not only to be valued as good in it self (answered the Chevalier) but there is very much advantage to be made by understanding it; we find in it so many ex­cellent things, and that in their Original: for you must needs confess, that when any one speaks, there is something so clear and natural, which proceeds from the Wit and Understanding of the person expressed in apt and significant words, which cannot by all the Art imaginable be rendred into ano­ther Language, as to be altogether the same. I find also that the Art which is used to [Page 17] teach that Tongue, gives a great light into all the other Languages, and that we may by knowing it, speak our own the better and with more assurance. Besides, being at this day the most known and univer­sal, the Prince would be glad (especially if he should one day become the Arbiter of the World) to understand what so many Nations should say to him, and to express himself without an Interpreter.

Is it an easie matter (said the Mareshal) to learn it in a little time? The more ne­cessary part of any Language (answered the Chevalier) will ask but little time; and yet it is of great benefit when one knows it. But the Niceties which depend much on the skill of the Teacher, and on the per­sons we hear speak, are more difficult. You know, in all other things, what it is to give the last touch. I should be of opini­on (continued the Chevalier) that now in his Youth it would be best to divide and set apart his hours, for fear of oppressing him too much, and giving him a disgust of what he should learn: and make him be­gin to practise such little Exercises for the activity of his body, as his age and strength permits, he would be the better shap't and [Page 18] more healthful: that it will be good like­wise to divertize his Studies and his Recre­ations too, as should be thought most con­venient: and I believe his hours should not be too regular; for even pleasure it self, if it be offered always in so orderly a way, and at set times, becomes tiresom and looks like constraint.

I fancy now in his tender age (in which they may make what impressions they please, but not so easily blot out again hereafter) they should order it so, that those who come about him, should be of those persons who are lucky in all things, and whose demeanour and presence may not accustom him to any thing which is fit for him to forget. I would have the like re­gard had in chusing those Masters who come to teach him the smallest things. I know there will not want those who will say, that this is but a fancy; but I am very certain, that as for all sorts of Exercises, as well those of the body as of the mind, it were to be wished, that such as are most skilful and able to perform them best, might form in him that unexpressible gracefulness, which most Masters want themselves: and also that after some time, Monsieur de D. T. [Page 19] and likewise Monsieur le P. might discourse to him of the Wars, and shew what ways Conquerours took to be great. For I am perswaded, that of what Birth soever any one is, he may think himself much honour­ed to have contributed any thing to a work of so great consequence, and that all those things which a young Prince ought to learn, cannot come from a person of two good a Family.

It is said, that Cæsar by combating and running through all parts, from Europe into Asia, and thence into Africa, lost most part of his old Souldiers; and that he himself instructed new-raised men to hold the Buck­ler, and use the Sword, or the Javelin; Do you not think that by learning of such a Master, the instruction took much deeper impression, and spread it self further, even without being aware of it?

What is said of handsom persons (answer­ed the Mareshal) that every thing becomes them, may be said with more reason of dexterous and judicious persons. I should have been glad to have seen that Masters of the World play the Fencing-master. Whatsoever I had observed from so great a man, would have taught me something [Page 20] that I should have been glad to remember. And that which you said just now is very true, That there are some persons whose Company we cannot too much frequent. 'Tis certain, that by seeing them often, on whatsoever occasion it may be, besides the improvement that we have by being with them, we gain a good esteem to our selves; as we perfume our selves, unawares by walking amongst the Jasmins and Orange-Trees.

There cannot any thing be imagined more gallant, and truly, said the Cheva­lier, you have a great exactness in speak­ing. I know very well, said the Mareshal, when I am minded to be pleasant: and I thought it would surprize you. If you did surprize me, said the Chevalier, 'twas the better to please me. A thing that is well conceived, ought likewise to be well ex­pressed, and I think there is nothing more pleasant.

For all that, answered the Mareshal, I am the man in the World that least studies those kind of florid expressions. Neither do I much affect exactness in speaking. To be punctual and just, as to the sense I love always; but to be so in words, appears [Page 21] commonly too much affected: and if I did desire to be eloquent, I should wish to be so with my heart and understanding. No man wants words when he has any thing to say to the purpose.

People talk as long as they please (said the Chevalier) of what relates to the Com­merce of the World: we find but too ma­ny that are skilled in that way of discourse: but for some other things which are less clear, and not easie to be conceived, one is many times puzled to express them, as one has a mind to do. 'Tis true, that a person may be said to be eloquent, who first had the conception of them, in what manner soever he makes others understand them. Those who think well are never too long nor tedious, for they seek words only to express their thoughts; whereas others stu­dy more how to speak finely, than how to express themselves.

As to exactness in speaking, I find two sorts which have always good effects: the one consists in discerning things as they are, and without confounding them: for if we fail never so little, either in speaking or acting, it is presently perceived and taken notice of: this depends upon the Wit and Understanding.

[Page 22] The other, justness or exactness of speak­ing appears in being able to judge of the decency of our expressions, and in having true measures how far we ought to go, and when to stop. This which proceeds chief­ly from the relish and judgment we have of things, seems to me more doubtful and difficult.

The exactness of words pleases when it is without affectation, and words are not played and gingled withal. But I can as­sure you, that one cannot have too much of that kind of justness of Speech, which consists in the knowing how to make use of the aptest and most proper words and the best forms of speaking, to infuse our thoughts into the minds of others in the same man­ner we desire; neither more nor less.

These exactnesses are always approved of, provided we be not too severe and ri­gorous in expecting them from others; and that we remember that Roman Lady, be­fore whom one might not so much as trip; for as she was one day pressing and play­ing upon an excellent man, who was some­thing intangled and out of order, he told her; she was in the right, but that she was a little to blame to take away the pleasure of freedom and negligence.

[Page 23] We are much more civil to Ladies now a-days, said the Mareshal, than they were in those times: and whatever they say now does not discompose any body that under­stands the World. They may venture at any thing, especially when they are hand­som. But an accomplisht person, though of never so much merit, ought not to be too confident of himself: yea, the more he excels others, the more care he ought to take not to prescribe to the Company, but to be complying. For naturally every one is afraid of a Master-wit.

I love those persons who always shew some Wit without offending any one, and I perfectly hate those who make use of it only to the displeasing of others. It is good to avoid the converse of such, as much as one can: for this humour proceeds from the pride and maliciousness of their nature, which mingles it self in all their actions, There are others of them, who are more rash than malicious, who, to vent a Jest, will make sport with, and play upon every body, without considering the consequen­ces. What advantage is it to have Wit, if one cannot make use of it for the gaining of the good opinion and love of the World? [Page 24] One may withdraw and absent ones self, if things go not to ones mind: but when we come into Company, we should carry our selves so, that we may be acceptable to those persons with whom we are, although we have no great kindness for them. For those who think to revenge themselves by a cross Carriage, do to themselves more in­jury than they do to others.

I know some also who are froward and disagreeable, out of a principle of envy. This is a fault which disgusts me most of all, which discovers a mean Spirit and a nar­row Wit. For if one well understood what Life and Fortune is, it would incline one rather to pity, than envy those whom the World thinks happy. I have seen some ob­scure persons and of very ordinary capaci­ties, who would equal themselves with the chief men of the World, and who by no means would consent to, nor allow of their reputations.

There are others who would gladly please and gain love: but neither honour, truth, nor the benefit of those who hear them, can make them say any thing, unless it tends directly to their own proper ad­vantage. 'Tis an ill way they take; for [Page 25] the World thinks not well of those who are only for themselves, but it always approves of those who endeavour to advance the re­putations of those that deserve it. Sir (said the Chevalier) your Art is marvellous: For the thing that was in question, was only concerning the exactness of Language, or something like it, yet by degrees, and al­most insensibly, you are fallen upon the discourse of the Commerce of the World, and you have described those persons who make ill use of their Wit; and who only speak for their own interest: which shews that you have observed the Court, and that you are not well pleased with the Princi­ples and Manners of it.

I shall only add to that which you said just now, That when any one speaks, what­soever design he may have, that of pleasing should always be one: but that ought not to be the sole or principal end. Nature tends only to things necessary. There is nothing in the fairest body of the World which is not necessary for life or motion. Good chear is founded upon the necessity of eating and drinking. Lodging must be had, and that is the cause we love fine hou­ses; for at first we only seek those things [Page 26] we cannot want: and afterwards we pro­ceed, and desire the pleasure into the bar­gain (if we may be allowed to speak so) as an accidental thing which rejoyces us, though we did not expect it.

I allow (said the Mareshal) that a man take the liberty to express himself, let it be in what way he pleases: and I understand you very well. I believe the best way to improve ones self and become knowing, is not to study over-much, but to entertain our selves often, and discourse of those things that open the Understanding. And it would be good (if I mistake not) to ac­custom our young Prince to this, and to place people about him who might instruct him in that manner. As for such Ladies as are placed about him, I do not see that there need be such care in the choice of them. I confess, I should only have a re­gard to those of the pleasantest humour, to keep him always chearful. For excepting a very few, (the wisest of them appear to me to have little sense) though otherwise they may please. You judge well, that from some certain agreeableness in the face or shape, we can conclude nothing concer­ning the Understanding. And those who [Page 27] are able to discern one from the other, are seldom deceived.

The World will not allow Women to be wise, said the Chevalier, but I know not why, unless it be perhaps, because they are commended enough for other qualities, and that they are handsom. For the World delights to lessen on one side what it is for­ced to allow on the other. And if it can­not deny a man to be very brave, it will never agree that he is other ways well bred, although in reality he excels most in the latter. In my opinion it is not so rare a thing to meet with Ladies of good Under­standing. I find in them a delicacy of Wit which is not so common to men; and I have likewise observed in many places and a­mongst all sorts of Qualities, that common­ly mens actions are not attended with so much gracefulness as Womens are; and that Ladies are more skilful than they in what they do: whether it be that the ad­vantage of pleasing be more natural to them, or that they finding their greatest strength to lie there, they make it more their study from their Childhood. Two or three of them, (if I am not mistaken) have begun to undeceive the Court concerning [Page 28] your false Gallantry, and if we thought there were no glory nor pleasure in gain­ing their favours, we should not study so many ways to render our selves agreeable to them. Besides, no person is ever well bred, or at least a perfect gallant man, in whose making the Ladies have not had a hand.

How much am I obliged to you (said the Mareshal) for making a difference be­tween the well bred man and the gallant man? We are apt to mistake and confound one with the other. It seems to me (said the Chevalier) that the excellence of a Gallant consists in the common way of li­ving; and we find in him a certain plausi­bleness of Carriage, which a well bred man always hath not. But a well bred man hath more solid vertues, though he be less busie and forward to shew himself in the World.

There's a great deal of difference betwixt the one and the other (said the Mareshal) This quality of a Gallant, which pleases in young people, passes away like a flower or a dream; and I have seen some of these gallant men become the neglect and scorn even of those who once admired them. But if we love a man for his good breeding and [Page 29] honesty, we always love him, and 'tis not in the power of time to make it other­wise.

I imagine, said the Chevalier, that when those gallant men were so much esteemed of, yet all the World was not so dazled with them: and that there were always some who seigned that it was but a false Gallan­try, and a glittering Varnish, which might perhaps surprize. But true Gallantry a­mongst persons who understand it, is al­ways well received. It depends but very little upon the advantages of the body: nay, it happens many times, that a deformed man hath a better grace than another, who seems made on purpose to be made for a Picture. It is not enough to have a fine outside to make one agreeable; that which is of greatest importance is the well regula­ting of our Intellectuals, and the taking are that our head and heart be in good order : for one can never be a gallant man without having a good heart and much wit.

This true Gallantry appears principally in the knowing how to set a pleasing gloss upon things that are in themselves displea­sing. For many times that which disgusts us most, we should the better endure, if a [Page 30] good colour were put upon it; and if we considered it so as to make the best of it. I remember there were two friends that went to visit a Lady, and he that was the worst received by her, imagined, that to gain her favour, there was nothing wanting but to ruine his friend in her opinion. The o­ther, who perceived it, instead of complain­ing or being enraged at it; I knew very well (said he to him) that you had a love for me, but I did not believe that you thought me deserving enough to be in the favour of a Lady of such merit, and who is so good a Judge of men: these thoughts of yours are so advantagious to me, that they cannot any ways be an occasion of the breach of our friendship.

This (said the Mareshal) seems to me perfectly gallant, I know not whether some­thing that hath been told me of a great Princess, proceeded not from a Wit of the same nature. She was informed, that a ve­ry worthy well bred man (but a little fan­tastical) found some fault with her Carri­age: we have (said she) but two many Flatterers; that which you tell me of this Gentleman, is rather an advice than a re­proach; 'tis none of his fault that I am not [Page 31] better; and I am much obliged to him for it.

There could not any thing have been found out more just (said the Chevalier) and it makes me my self better understand my own thoughts. This Princess must, without doubt, have been more than an ordinary person. Oh! how happy should we be, if all things that pass in the World were construed after this manner. I fancy (continued the Chevalier) that a gallant man is no other than a well bred honest man, only a little more brisk and spark­ling than ordinary, and who has the Art to make every thing become him; however there is a great advantage to be made by knowing how to be both the one and the other, as we see occasion. And I have seen some worthy good men, who have been much to seek amongst Ladies, how to in­sinuate themselves into their Conversati­ons, though they have had very rational things to say to them.

Rational? (cryed the Mareshal) who could ever have it in their heads to use their reason so unseasonably? The Ladies are neither so coy nor so severe as to stand upon reason on such occasions; but they [Page 32] would be accosted gallantly and boldly, as you know they would have neat addresses, an airy and frolick Conversation, an agree­able complisance, with a little flattery, and that je ne scay quoy of smartness and wit to stir and warn them without perplexing them : that way which is now used in the most refined and civilized parts of the World which takes with every body. A confident yet a modest Carriage, which is neither mean nor sullen, having nothing which savours not of goodness and ho­nesty.

He that knows how to perform his Courtship after this manner, may in my o­pinion become of great consideration a­mongst the Ladies; and that is the surest way to please them : but it is also the most hazardous, unless it be carried very skill­fully, and with a good grace. For we must remember, that the more such kind of things are agreeable when they are well done, the more they displease when they are ill performed.

It may besides be added, said the Che­valier, that few people are born with these perfections, nor skilled in the managing of so glorious a course of life, and if it should [Page 33] be ones fortune to succeed in perfection, the most part of Women are not much de­lighted with it: at least 'tis certain, that so much smartness and frowardness will at length tire them.

I find that those Women who have the most wit, like much better a little more reservedness: and commonly those people are unfortunately disappointed of their aims, that do not know that they are gain­ed by the same ways that we are gained; and likewise lost after the same manner. They throw as it were their hearts at their heads, and at first dash tell them more of their Love than can in any probability be true, and many times more than they desire to hear. They give them not time so much as to wish that they were loved, and to taste of a certain sweetness which is only found in the progress of Love. That pleasure must be long enjoyed to make Love last for ever: there is but little plea­sure in obtaining that which we have not very much desired; and when we have it so easily, we accustom our selves to neglect it, and commonly come there no more. But troubel not your self about Ladies for our young Prince, there will enough offer [Page 34] themselves when the time comes.

As they were speaking, one came to tell them, that there was something in dispute amongst the Ladies, who were, as I told you, at play in another Room, and they desired them to come and give their opi­nion. It could not have happened more opportunely, said the Mareshal, just when we were so seasonably upon the Theme of Ladies. For if we would not displease any of them, we had need to summon all our wits to judge between them. Let us do the House right, and we will conclude for this day. To morrow I will expect you, and give order that we may not be distur­bed.

THE SECOND CONVERSATION.

THose who are at the Court make more Friends and Acquaintance, than those who live retired. But of that number of Friends, few of them are really so, and for the most part they are as little understood by any of the Court, as they themselves perfectly understand the Court. Not that it is so, as 'tis generally said, That Courtiers love nothing, and that they study their own interest more than how to discern and esteem true me­rit. For peoples hearts and minds are much the same there as in other places, and In­terest sways through all the World. But in that place we are divided amongst so many people, that every one has but a lit­tle of us, and that superficially, according as every one desires; and commonly we fix not upon any one, either to love, or perfectly to understand.

[Page 36] The Chevalier who had seen the Mare­shal so much abroad in the World, and who knew well enough that he was a very gallant man, yet had not so great an opi­nion of him then when he seldom saw him, as now, and having frequented him seven or eight days in retirement, he knew not how to be absent from him.

He therefore failed not to come the next day, as they had appointed: and being with him betimes, he engaged him to pass the morning at play, and before they left off, he ordered it so, that they should be obliged to set to it again after dinner; though it was a great delight to him to hear him discourse, yet he always found some invention or other to hinder him from speaking much. For the Mareshal, to whom any great agitation was hurtful, was easily moved (and contrary to the custom of o­ther persons that are much in the World, and who dive but little into things) is ex­cessively thoughtful, and speaks often with much eagerness, and with as much action as if he were in perfect health. They plaid only to pass the time as one ought always with true friends; for if high play destroy not friendship, yet it may lessen it.

[Page 37] After they had played a long time, the Mareshal spake of going into a Meadow by the side of a little River which runneth at the foot of the Town: but the heat of the day being not yet past, he began to walk in the Chamber, and told the Chevalier he was thinking of that Queen of Egypt. As I was rising this morning, said he, I was laughing at that man that you represented to me, I fancied that I saw him with her, entertaining her with such fine things, as martial men use to say to Ladies.

That which pleased you, said the Che­valier, was, that you have no cause to fear if you should meet with any persons that are so nice and delicate. Not too much of that (said the Mareshal) for I should be apt enough to shew something of my Pro­fession, if I had not a care. And some per­sons have done me the favour to give me an Item of it; and to say the truth. I have but little Learning, and you cannot imagine how I am vexed at it; but I hope my Children will be more knowing than their Masters themselves.

Do not regret so much, said the Cheva­lier, that having studied so little, you have only lost a little Latine by it, which they [Page 38] would have taught you. That is very much (replied the Mareshal) if there were nothing else: but besides, would they not have instructed me in those Sciences which my Friend X. esteems so much.

As he was enlarging himself upon the discourse, which he had had with that Friend; You speak not like a man without Learning (said the Chevalier) that which I have now heard from you, would make you be admired: and in truth, you know very much for a Souldier and a great Courtier.

The Mareshal began to laugh, and told him, that he knew nothing of the Science but their names. The Masters themselves, replied the Chevalier, know but very little more. They would have taught you all that which they ordinarily teach others with much expence of time and great pains, and you should not have understood the more, nor been more learned, unless per­haps by that means you might have been undeceived as to the value you set upon them.

What you say (answered the Mareshal after a little consideration) in probabilty may be true; and you make me call to [Page 39] mind how I have spent whole days with this man to hear him discourse of the Sci­ences. I confess freely to you, that it al­ways happened that I could not apprehend him; the more he took pains to explain himself, the less he made himself under­stood. For to judge of Philosophy by the Idæa that he gave me of it, I represented it to my self like the night, and I asked him, whether it were essential to it to be dark and obscure.

This (said he) is a very fair beginning, I have known those who have been longer at it, who could not have said so much. But to disguise nothing to you, all this is never well understood but when it is lear­ned in our Youth.

One understands it not the better (said the Chevalier) for being exercised in it in our youth, but we are less surprised with the obscurity of it. These people are ac­customed from their youth to speak of all things without discerning any thing di­stinctly. That which they say never seems obscure nor confused to them, and the most part of them imagine, that they are very well understood, although it be im­possible to know their meanings.

[Page 40] How comes it to pass then (said the Mar­shal) that we profit not by those Instructi­ons which the Ancients have left us, and so many other great men since that time? I would tell you what I think of it, answe­red the Chevalier, if I were not afraid to tire you, for the Subject hath but little of divertisement in it. Besides, it seems to me, that people should do well to practise what they already know, without endea­vouring either to establish it, or teach it to others: And I for my part who knows so little, have no reason to meddle in the matter.

I rested well last night (said the Mare­shal) and we have dined so well, that for this day all Subjects will be acceptable to me, and I defie you to weary me. Besides, there is nothing so dull, but may be made pleasant by the help of a good Wit, and I find that you have to spare.

Sir (said the Chevalier) you love to be merry. I speak of you (replied the Mare­shal) as I should speak to you of my self. I endeavour to shew neither vanity nor flattery; and I find the best men have but little of either, yet a little flattery may be used on some occasions, if it be done dis­creetly; [Page 41] but vanity is always ill becoming: and I see besides, that commonly that which vain persons have most commendable in them is despised. It is good to hide it, but much better to quit ones self quite of it if one can. For if one takes never so much care not to let it appear, there comes from it insensibly I know not what which dis­pleaseth. This defect, which I fear so much, hinders me not from telling you, that though the Intrigues of the World and some kind of Ambition have permitted me to be but little speculative; yet I love ex­tremely to meet a certain sprightliness and vivacity diffusing it self every way with a comliness and grace.

I have been thought to have had some sparks of it; however there is nothing of all that which people love and admire, which affects me to that point. I must open the bottom of my heart to you, I have but little reason to be fond of life, and I know how I ought to consider the World; but how much soever we are dis-engaged, those who have Children cannot out look often upon them with a concern. I have some very hopeful, and I am perswaded, that which we now discourse on, may one day [Page 42] be useful to them. And that is it which obligeth me to speak upon so many Sub­jects. But to return to that which I asked you; how comes it to pass, that we draw so little advantage from the Learning which those able Græcians have left us?

You have often spoken to me of Greece, and the smallest matters that you told me of it, have much delighted me.

I should be glad that you would now again conduct me through these renowned places, and that by the way you could make me observe that which you think most considerable in them.

When he had said this, he took a seat, and caused the Chevalier to sit down, who began in this manner.

Since you will have it so, I must tell you, that Greece was the most pleasant a­bode that can be imagined. The Air of the Country is mild and serene, and so tem­perate, that it seldom happens that either Winter or Summer is troublesom to them. There was abundance of all things that can be desired to live happily. The men there were born very dextrous at all sorts of Ex­ercises, and Art easily compleats that which Nature hath so well begun. The Ladies [Page 43] of Athens were naturally very courtly, and rather brown than fair. There was a kind of sharpness in their Conversation which pleased. And as there often appears in a dark and still night some flashes of light, so although their manner of speaking was plain and reserved, there brake forth al­ways a great deal of wit. 'Twas said al­so, that the sound of their voices was so harmonious and charming, that the hear­ing that alone was sufficient to delight. But besides the pureness and delicacy of this Language, how many fine things do you think was said in it. For there were ma­ny who were not contented with the gra­ces and address of the body only, but sought after other accomplishments. No people in the World were more apt to love, nor knew how to make love better.

This Country had the proper Genius to invent Arts, and to bring them to perfe­ction. Painting appeared there in its ex­cellence, full of spirit and passion. There was in it always some invention which sur­prised and pleased much more. What has not been said of the Sacrifice of Iphigenia, which could not be looked on without tears? And of that Tablet of Roxana and [Page 44] Alexander, where the little Cupids put Chains of Mirtles and Roses about this great Conquerour, to lead him to the feet of his Prisoner? So strange an adventure might at first hold us in admiration; but this Captive appeared with so surprising a Beauty, that when they considered her a little, they no longer wondred at her Con­quest.

There are also at this day some of their Statues to be seen, which would make one fancy there were something more than hu­mane in them. This reason alone, if no­thing else, methinks might excuse the Na­tions of these times for having adored them.

They were so skillful in Musick, that by adding and varying certain Notes, they knew how to affect the heart as they had a mind. Did you never hear how Alexan­der in the midst of a Feast, when there was nothing thought of but Mirth and Jolity, was so charmed and transported with those Sounds, that he ran to his Arms, as if he had seen the Enemy? For it was a sort of violence and enchantment, the secret of which is not come to us, or at least that in it, which was most rare is lost.

[Page 45] Their Eloquence needs not to be spoke of, it speaks enough it self: and who can so well express what it was as it self? And did not all those fine Verses, which appear­ed of their making, make the World be­lieve that it was the Language of the Gods, and that they spoke it in Greece as it was spoken in Heaven? To conclude all, those excellent Knowledges which have spread into all parts, have come from that happy Country, and even the Romans, who since that have made so much noise, have not excelled in so many things but by their imitating the Grecians, who were the first Inventors.

As they were a people of great reason, so it was their nature to live peaceably; but however they were very Martial. There were always of them Souldiers and Generals, who knew both how to fight and command. This Alexander who was in­structed according to the Discipline of the Greeks, with a little money and but a few men, had the Courage to go and attacque the richest and greatest Monarch of the Earth, and to overcome him twice in ran­ged Battel in the midst of five or six hun­dred thousand men.

[Page 46] This young Conquerour, who ran through all parts in search of Glory, had a Preceptor who thought it no less in his way; and if the Scholar rendred himself Master of the World, we may say also, that the Preceptor as well by his own ingenui­ty as by the favour of this Prince, had the Empire in Sciences. He had such a Wit as is requisite to make him able in that which concerned living in the World; but as to certain knowledges more hidden, he went not so far as some others who had pre­ceded him.

Those made it their felicity to know, and said, that they knew almost nothing: they were honest men, and of a sincere faith, and treated doubtfully of doubtful things: and for such things as they could compre­hend clearly, although they were of the highest speculation, they discoursed of them nevertheless in such a manner, as savoured neither of Art nor Study; but so clearly and naturally, that there needed only a good Wit to understand them at the very first.

This person who made it not so much his aim to be learned, as to gain the repu­tation of being so, found very well they [Page 47] were above him, and that those who were good Judges of Wit and Learning, would never put him in the first rank. And be­ing perswaded that a small number (that nothing could dazle nor delude) who un­derstood to what degree things were valu­able, would not be favourable to him, he applied himself to gain those who were not so clear-sighted, and to make himself admi­red by the multitude.

To effect this, knowing well what sort of people he had to deal with, and what would best take with them, he resolved to be positive, and to decide like a Legisla­tor, and to insinuate to them, that they needed but only to understand him to be learned. He borrowed the inventions of those who were little known, which he used as his own, and turned all the rest in­to ridicule.

Some said, that the foundations of his Building are not very sure, and that he established Principles, which are not only obscure and doubtful, but besides so false and improbable, that a very ordinary ca­pacity may discover the abuse. However, I could wish that a man of such Eminency had a little more naturalized the Art and [Page 48] the Rules; for it seems to me, that the smallest matters which the meanest capaci­ties comprehend when they are naturally and plainly spoken, will puzzle the most able, when delivered in an intricate me­thod, and a studied way, which appears in all the Writings we see of his.

That which he said well, and was well understood, might perhaps be the cause of bringing an esteem upon all the rest which was not understood. For he hath written many very good things; and that which seems strange to me is, that people neglect them, because they understand them: they are of a belief, that there is nothing good which is not obscure, so that they are so far from following the light of Reason, and framing themselves according to the Prin­ciples of this learned Greece, that they seek nothing but false Subtilties and Chimerical distinctions. The Master teacheth a Lan­guage which he himself understands not, and which he had from another that under­stood it as little. Hence it comes, that a young man after ten or twelve years stu­dy knows nothing; and that those who have applied themselves all their life time to this Doctrine, are but the more igno­rant. [Page 49] They are so much out of the way, that every one scorns to talk any more to them about it. For the but natural Wits are apt to take an ill habit by it; and being once accustomed to consider things in that manner, they never after­wards consider them as they really are. I have likewise observed, that when any of this order of men are spoke of as truly learned, able men, 'tis commonly a mi­stake; there is a mixture in them of Art and Fallacy together, which is very di­tastful.

As for Euclide and Archimedes, of whom we have formerly discoursed, those who endeavour to perfect themselves in their Science, always make some progress there­in: that which it teacheth is indubitable, and would to God we could learn with the same certainty all other things that we de­sire to know. 'Tis good to season a mans mind with this Science, because it makes one accurate and judicious; but 'tis not good to engage ones self too far therein, in regard it withdraws people from the Converse of the World, and renders them too speculative. And to meet with that which we look for in it, and likewise to [Page 50] make others comprehend it, we must pro­ceed by long reasonings and inductions, from line to line, and from figure to fi­gure; and when we have found it, we for the most part find too, that we might as well have been without it. Besides, that this method is not only tedious, and that it hath never been the Language of any Court in the World; it seems to me, that when we say any thing that is handsom, high, or of consequence, it always carries its own light with it to make it understood, in case it be well expressed.

The Chevalier making a pause, the Mar­shal who had hearkned to him very atten­tively, asked him whether that regular Master who marched always in order at the head of the Doctors, had taught those dark and dull Sciences to that young airy Prince? There are Sciences which seem more curious than necessary (answered the Chevalier) and I do not believe, that that person who understood so well what it is that sets the excellent Princes above the ordinary ones, had much burdened him with it; he had a mind to make a Heroe of this young Prince, which in truth he did, and formed him by Homers pattern. [Page 51] It is true, that when he instructed him in those things that were of the most concern­ment, he was not wanting to discover to him the greatest secrets of his knowledge. That which makes me speak, it is because he published some Books of this nature, and Alexander writ him a Letter, wherein he shewed enough his dislike of it.

Is this Letter (said the Mareshal) come down to us? I should be glad to see whe­ther this Prince had the same Genius in these matters which made him so admired in others; and whether great men shew their greatness in their meanest actions. You may judge of the Letter (said the Cheva­lier) for it being not long, I remember it, and this is it word for word.

You ought not to have made publick so ma­ny excellent things which I had from you, how shall I for the future appear to have any advantage or knowledge above other men, if they know the same things which you have taught me? You did not consider, that I lo­ved rather to surpass others in knowledge and wit, than in all things which relate to Power and Grandeur.

This was the Letter, and are you not amazed, that Alexander should write it in [Page 52] the middle of his Glory and in the strength of his Ambition? Must he not needs have a very vast mind and a wit of great extent, to be concerned for such things as these, which Conquerours commonly make little account of?

What a man was this! (said the Mare­shal) he aimed to be the first in every thing; and who, after all this, can think that it was Fortune alone that rendred him so puissant, and that merit had the greatest part therein?

But to return to the Sciences; I appre­hend very well, that this able Preceptor applied himself to that which was most ne­cessary. It seems to me, that in order to become a great Prince, and to govern the World, a man cannot know too many things.

I agree with you (said the Chevalier) but there is an extreme difference in be­ing instructed, as an Artist who would ex­cel in his Trade; and in Learning how to discourse and understand the reason of any Subject which is offered, without any o­ther design than to learn what it is, and not to be mistaken. This last knowledge, though it be very ornamental and of great [Page 53] use; yet it costs but little pains, when we meet with such persons as go directly to the point.

That which I would principally wish in a King is, that he should have wit and be a just man, and every way accomplished: and in my judgment he cannot be too per­fect in either of these Qualities. Besides, 'tis true, how happy soever we are, or whatsoever new advantages we may have either of body or mind, we should strive to be able and skillful in affairs, and begin there, if we can; for without that the rest succeeds not always well, and it oftentimes happens, that for want of skill, that which is best in us turns to our ruine. But it is not good to discover too much of this crast and fore-sight; for the generality of the World affect not naturally those that have so much of caution and prudence, but are rather most favourable to those who put themselves upon adventures, and expose all to hazard. Hence it comes, that so many persons (especially the Ladies) like not Cæsar so well as Alexander. This Talent of being able consists in a certain dexterity and particular Genius, and is conversant in making a right use of that which is in [Page 54] our power and of that which we know; but if we are ignorant, and have nothing in our power, such a kind of Genius will but little avail us. Therefore to have where­with to imploy it, we must get our selves a Repute, and be well informed of things how they may be of use to us. Those who have this kind of wit love to make them­selves valued, and to take their advanta­ges; but they take no great pains to com­pleat themselves in any thing. Besides, the affairs of the World hinder them from fix­ing on any particular thing; nor do you find that the ablest excel in all things.

I should be of an opinion (said the Mare­shal) that a Prince should addict himself to History; for it discovers so many things, that one may by it render himself able and knowing, at least it is a good guide as to what concerns life. 'Tis true (said the Che­valier) History may be of great use, were it only to perswade by Examples that which we have a mind to, when we have but weak reasons to give for it, or that we can­not make good ones be hearkned to. But the events being different (although the Conjunctures are alike) it is difficult to establish any thing certainly upon it, and I [Page 55] believe that one may be able and knowing without the help of History. When there was neither track nor mark of it, did not our Fore-fathers understand the good and the evil?

Besides, all things possible that we can imagine to our selves are as so many Histo­ries, if not of the past or of the present, at least of the time to come: for in this infi­nite space of time and of the World, all that which can happen meets with its time and its place.

In the mean time, History being a kind of Experience, 'tis certain, that we may profit much by it; besides, there are some of them which come from so good hands, that though we know them, 'tis a pleasure to us to read them. Kings do well to read them, and also to inform themselves of things which pass in their own times, that they may have an eye to what may be done therein, and not lose any opportuni­ties or advantages. 'Tis principally neces­sary to bring the young Prince to consider that those Kings and Emperours who have been worthy men, besides the glory which remains to them, that they led also a most happy and pleasant life.

[Page 56] But the best time for taking the Air is almost past, and methinks it were good to go and take two or three turns by the Ri­ver side: Let us go (said the Mareshal) I had not thought of it, if you had not put me in mind.

THE THIRD CONVERSATION.

THE Chevalier came in good time to the Mareshals Lodgings, who had a mind to go forth that morning, there being neither wind nor heat, but one of those pleasant days which are not too light nor too gloomy. The Mareshal was alone in his Chamber leaning against the Window which looks upon the Gardens, and seeing the Chevalier come in, he told him with a chearful countenance, that he took it kindly that he forsook not his Friend at a time of need, and that he had thoughts of taking the Air, it being such fine Weather; and that he should be glad to have so good Company. The Cheva­lier answered, He was very sorry that it was no better. I doubt it not (said the Mareshal smiling) you are the most con­cerned in it. One ought to wish himself of an agreeable Conversation, if it were [Page 58] only to entertain himself: For a man is sometimes alone, and when he is tired with his own thoughts, he cannot be rid of them as he would. That happens to me but too often (said the Chevalier) and even at this instant that I am speaking to you, I am glad to be with you; for I find that if I were alone, I should be but little satisfied with any thing that comes into my mind. That which you tell me doth not at all please me (replied the Mareshal) for as a man always loves himself a little, so he is apt to flatter himself, and when he is not con­tented with his own thoughts, what likeli­hood is there that others should be plea­sed, who for the most part excuse nothing? But I will not be so nice: and walking to­wards the Garden, Come let us not droop (said he) speaking in a pleasant manner; for by stirring we animate our vigour and spirits.

There were in this Garden Orange-trees full of flowers, the sight and odour of which rejoyced and pleased them. They fetched some turns in the Walks, entertaining themselves on divers Subjects, and after that, being set down under the Orange-trees; Let us enjoy this retirement, said [Page 59] the Mareshal, and taste the sweet repose which is offered us, and entertain our selves in freedom. Methinks, said the Che­valier, that one lives more in two days of pleasure, and are more sensible what life is, than in two years full of business and trouble. I find also that we see greater things in retirement, than abroad in the World, or at least we consider them better. For what do we see of great in the World, unless it be perhaps an Army, the Siege of a Town, or the Court of a Prince? We are quickly accustomed to them, and all this appears great to us only at the first sight. But if we look upon the different works of Nature, the Sun setting, a still night, and these Planets which so majesti­cally rowl over our heads, we are continu­ally admiring them. Those who think only of their Fortune, are imployed about a little artificial World which they understand ve­ry well; but this great natural World is unknown to them.

But for all that, replied the Mareshal, it is this little World that makes men great, or to speak more properly, which makes them be known. For those who are not so, of whatsoever merit they are, dye with­out [Page 60] any notice taken that they have ever lived. Besides, consider with your self, that there is such a Prince, who notwith­standing he hath been once seen, makes one desirous to see him again, and whom the most agreeable solitude cannot make one forget. That kind of life is like an En­chantment, I cannot but have an eye that way; and the young Prince being always in my thoughts, I must needs ask you whe­ther you think he ought to be so tenderly bred, and withal what care is usually im­ployed for the bringing up such persons as are so dear to us?

My opinion, answered the Chevalier, as to that is, that there should be a great re­gard had to his constitution; but I should like it better to have it done in a manner a little more hardy, than so much of ten­derness, provided that it be without any danger. We are so careful (said the Mare­shal) how to secure the present, that we hazard the future. I have seen many peo­ple, who by too great a choiceness have been lost; they have been bred so, as that they could not endure any thing of incon­venience, nor the least disorder. They went to bed and rose always at a constant [Page 61] hour, (and you know whether the World allows any one to live after that manner) and when they had occasion to alter their course of life, they had not been two months in the Army, but they were dead or dying: Whereas others who had be­times accustomed themselves to any thing, were as well there as elsewhere, and some­times better.

I believe, said the Chevalier, one can never break ones self of it, when one hath been delicately bred, and even the spirit and the heart may be infected by it. Also in my judgment, it were well if a Prince did know how sometimes to put off all that which we call Pomp and Magnificence; for there is nothing which it needless and su­perfluous, which becomes not at last ne­cessary by accustoming ones self to it. Not that those should be hearkned to, who grumble so much against plenty and abun­dance, and who will not allow of gildings nor of rich Furniture? Most part of such sort of people know not what they would have, and the rest pretend to get them­selves an esteem by contemning that which they have not in their power. It is well enough known, that the Carvings and fret [Page 62] Works so finely painted, and the Tapestries embossed with gold, can charm neither grief nor melancholy; and that one is the less subject to fumes, when one sees nothing but the greenness of the fields, and that those magnificent Beds hinder us not from thinking the nights many times very tedi­ous. It is well enough known, that riches are of little value, and likewise that they may be hurtful: Not that the evil is in the having them, but in the thinking our selves the more worthy for them, or in be­ing dejected when we have them not. Me­rit and Honesty is far above them all; and if we should come to want every thing, and be reduced to suffer much, we should not think our selves dishonoured by it, no more than if we were sick, or of a weak constitution.

You take it right, said the Mareshal, and I think that by degrees there might be some little attempts made to give our Prince the knowledge, or at least the ap­prehension of certain things which Chil­dren use not to entertain themselves with­al, and which surpasseth their ordinary ca­pacities. For although a Child understands not at the first what is said to him in its [Page 63] proper and full signification, it prepares him against another time; they are as lit­tle Essays of Reason, which never comes all at once.

I would not exercise him in imaginary Subjects nor nice Notions. For that which is said, if it be unseasonable, or too far fetched, affects but very little, and leaves but confused impressions. The smallest oc­casion which is offered sufficeth to say some­thing that bears some weight and pleaseth. For I find that it is of consequence, that they study to form his wit agreeably. The pleasure he will take to hearken and to look upon him, will likewise make him de­sirous to be instructed; and if the persons who are about him, have a grace in their actions and their words, he will retain at least the manner how he ought to behave and express himself. If you consider it well, this agreeable way of communicating ones self to others is of no small conse­quence. It is very material (said the Che­valier) and as you intimated before, the surest way to acquire that so agreeable and taking a way, is to frequent the company of those that have it and practise it. It consists most commonly in things so deli­cate, [Page 64] that though we are sensible of them, we can scarce say what they are. You made use of one expression that pleased me infinitely to form the mind: I remember some that were good Masters, who taught the Exercises in so great exactness, that there was nothing defective or superflu­ous: not the least time lost, nor the smal­lest motion that was not necessary to acti­on. Those Masters told me, that if once our bodies were made and formed, the rest would not cost much pains. So it seems to me, that those who have their understand­ings formed, understand all that is said to them, and that they want after that on­ly some body to put them in mind. When we meet with such, and keep them com­pany, we take certain opinions and certain observations, which we should never have of our selves, and I see nothing which can contribute so much as that to the making of a great man.

You touch me very sensibly, cryed the Mareshal, if they had in my youth disco­vered to me that which I have since found out by my own experience and reflections, how much time and pains had they saved me? one word from them to the purpose [Page 65] had made me comprehend a world of things, that I am sure I know not, nor shall never know whilst I live. I reflect on all those opportunities which I have lost, up­on all those things which I might have done, and which I was not aware of till it was too late. You cannot imagine how I blame my self for those many sl [...]ps, which I had not made, if any one had lent me his hand. All the World commits faults, even the most able persons, but the greatest on­ly are perceived.

He spake with so much earnestness, that the Chevalier said to him, Sir, we must in all things comfort our selves with this, that this life is not worth so much, that we should thus trouble our selves in what man­ner we pass it. We are ready to leave the World when we begin to understand it well, or at least we are very far on our Journey afore we have learnt the best way. You have great reason in what you say (answered the Mareshal) but let them not alledge, that 'tis necessary we must be of such an age to understand to such a de­gree, and that good sense cannot come but by a long experience. A Child that hath ingenuity will comprehend all that is said [Page 66] to him when the right means is used, and that they accommodate themselves to his Genius.

I agree to it, said the Chevalier, but I would not over-burden him with a long chain of instruction, nor so methodical. I rather chuse to speak to him but of a few things, and let each Precept work its ef­fect, and commend or blame him according as he should give occasion for either, and still give him a reason for all I told him, in such a manner that he might come of his own accord insensibly to make the appli­cation of it to himself. It is much better to enlighten his Understanding rather than charge his Memory. Besides, too many re­gular Precepts are forgotten before one can make use of them. They refer you to a time when (say they) you shall see rare things, but this time is a great while a coming.

They should so order it, that all that they say and teach to the young Prince, may render him more knowing and agree­able to day than he was yesterday, and so that you your self may be sensible of the progress he makes. Besides, it were good to accustom him to be free and affa­ble, [Page 67] which are vertues that make people love great Kings. Affection produceth ef­fects which are very peculiar to it self.

How true is that (cryed the Mareshal) and of what consequence it is for a young Prince to have the Art of making himself to be beloved? I prize it above all (an­swered the Chevalier) how much do you think this noble height and elevation of the mind and understanding contributes to it? You hit upon that which is of greatest im­portance (said the Mareshal) and for that reason so soon as he had learned that which is usually taught in his first years, I would begin to give him some new light of things, I would enlarge his knowledge, and shew him every thing. But for fear of carrying him out of the way, and of straggling into some unknown Country, I would have a great care to chuse good Guides, and the best of them should not escape me.

Children, said the Chevalier, are not or­dinarily speculative, the most part of them are active, and carried away with plea­sures; yet there are some that are by na­ture serious enough, and are capable to retire into themselves. It were to be wisht that the young Prince be neither too se­rious [Page 68] nor too active. It is the evenest and best temper to partake of both, and to be able to pass with ease from the one to the other. For the mind and spirit by conti­nual thinking, is apt to sink within it self; and if it remain so any long time, it becomes sullen and less proper for the World. Perpetual action without inter­mission produceth all outward, and those who continually practise it, make no refle­xions, and never come to be eminent men.

Though we have but few moments of leisure, we ought to spend them in consi­dering what we intend to do; for by me­ditating we find out the ways to arrive to perfection; but when we believe that we have found them, it is necessary to put them in practice, that we may know whe­ther they are right; for we cannot be cer­tain or assured of it but by our own expe­rience. If that which we fancy to our selves to be the way to succeed in a business, be but a meer Idæa, or some invention too difficult to put in practice, we need only make a tryal, and we shall quickly unde­ceive our selves. By that means we im­prove every day, and still add new perfe­ctions [Page 69] to that which we do best.

When I came first to the Court, said the Mareshal, every body thought that to be an accomplished man. There was nothing requisite but Dancing well, running the Ring, or something of this nature; every one chose that which he liked best, and set himself to it, as if it had been his Trade.

These sort of things add a grace to a man when he well performs them, as well as they do at all other times; I mean that the body is the freer, and not so stiff, and their skill in those Exercises is perceived, although they stand still. You know it is a great advantage to be a good Actor : A­ction, said the Chevalier, is a kind of ex­pression, and as words well chosen are a­greeable when they express things that please, so all which is exprest by the face or gesture of the body, is well received when it is done with a good grace. But we must not mistake, there are those that are sometimes Actors of nothing, as well as Speakers of nothing. Action hath its defects as well as the Language, and to ex­cel in both, we must observe in all subjects that which will best please.

[Page 70] This Talent of being a good Actor seems to me very necessary for persons that live abroad in the World, and it is much like that which is called now adays (to speak à la Mode) Having a good Air; but it is not only in that, that the good Air ap­pears, it hath an influence and spreads it self upon every thing, and to say in a word what it is, it consists in doing well that which we do. People confound it many times with the word Agrément, although there is very much difference between them. The good Air shews it self at the first; it is more regular and more in order. Agrément is more flattering and insinuating; it goes more directly to the heart, and by more secret ways: The good Air gives more admiration, and the Agrément more of Love. Young people who are not as yet perfect, commonly have not the good Air nor certain Agréments like those who are masters of it.

Some people who take pleasure to dis­course, said the Mareshal, (smiling) like very well such Subjects as these, to shew their Wit in, but it is not altogether so pleasant to those that hear them; but when any one understands well that which he [Page 71] aims at, he says nothing that is imperti­nent, and his Reason and Learning are re­markable enough.

Now to return to our ancient Courtiers, as the most part of Exercises are only pro­per for a certain Age; it happens, that those who had addicted themselves only to them, when their Youth was past, they knew no longer how to imploy themselves. Therefore I would not wish any to depend principally on such Exercises : I know ve­ry well that they are not to be neglected, but there is something which is better. In effect, I have always believed that one should not so much wish for any thing as for Wit, and many times people fail of it by their own fault : And I am now more of that opinion than I was, that it is impos­sible not to have it, if one be brought up in the Company of some people.

At least, added the Chevalier, a late eminent Philosopher holds, that all the World naturally have very near the same capacity: and that the principal difference proceeds only from the care that is taken to form it, or else from the course and bent that people take of themselves.

I cannot altogether agree to that (said [Page 72] the Mareshal) the advantage is to be ascri­bed to a happy birth in the first place, and Art afterwards perfects it. As to the learn­ing by ones self, it seldom happens, that the mind without some help takes the best courses to do it; and I wonder at some Princes who are nevertheless excellent men, although in their Youth they have been taught but very few things. The most part of those who are about them fancy, that it is not good to proceed too hastily, and that it might prejudice their health; which I should like well enough, provided that there be regard had to the consequences, and that they consider how dangerous it may be, to accustom a young Prince to be without Wit. Wherefore they must en­deavour to instruct him in a pleasant way, and be always teaching him something without tiring him.

But to return to those Princes who are the most admired, and who have formed and instructed themselves, I do not see that we can establish any Maxims upon so few Examples: Neither am I of the opinion (said the Chevalier) that any one should relye upon it, and I believe that the surest way to accomplish ones self, is to have re­course [Page 73] to well-bred persons; as the voice improves by singing, and one learns how to order it with skill by practising under a good Master; so Wit insinuates and com­municates it self insensibly amongst persons who truly have it. There is no doubt but it may be acquired, if an able man set a­bout it.

It should therefore be my advice (con­tinued the Chevalier) that those who have Wit, and are well-bred men, be not only well received by this Prince, but likewise that care be taken to find them out and draw them thither; for commonly they are not Traders, nor forward to shew them­selves: they know how to content them­selves with their own Fortune; and be­sides that, they are so rarely met with, that those who understand them well need not fear to be troubled with too many of them. I do not remember that I ever in my life saw so great a number of them at one time, but I could have wished them more.

This sort of people always say something that pleaseth, and never do any thing which hath not some mark of Worth and Breed­ing; and by conversing with, and obser­ving [Page 74] them, we not only inform our selves of such things as are necessary to be known for the making of an accomplisht man, but also we learn how to apply them, and like­wise so far as to know when 'tis proper and mannerly to be silent. Yet we see such persons sometimes, without taking notice of this worth in them; they put me in mind of the best Artists, who are less for­ward than the others, and that proceed not so much from a laziness or negligence in them, as from a certain aversion which the most part of well-bred persons have to set a value upon themselves.

When I chance to meet with any such persons, I know how to distinguish them; and though I hear very good things come from them, and they behave themselves with as much becomingness as can be desi­red, I make no conclusion from thence; for many times this is but a borrowed Lan­guage and the actings of a Part, I always take notice whether there be a foundati­on, and whether there be nothing that con­tradicts. In short, I regard not so much that which appears so polite and regular, as I do certain other things which shews that the Understanding goes further, and is of a larger extent.

[Page 75] Children seek not always the company of Children; those who are of a bold am­bitious nature love to be amongst men, es­pecially if they be pleasant. In my opi­nion they should accustom the young Prince to divert himself amongst such; one cannot imagine a more sure and less pain­ful way to render him the most accom­plished Prince of the World, than the ha­ving even in his youth such Courtiers?

For as a Child without any study learn­eth the Tongue of those people whom he hears speak, and afterwards speaks it na­turally; so he will not fail to learn insen­sibly the manners and actions of those who are about him, and all that he gains in that manner becomes natural to him. They should make use, as much as is possible, (answered the Mareshal) of this way of instructing him; but that alone is not suf­ficient to teach him to speak well; for to effect that, 'tis necessary to mix a little of Art and Study. I acknowledge that (said the Chevalier) and indeed one cannot have too much of either of them; but we must make it our principal business to put into him such a kind of Wit, which I cannot express, and which neither Books nor Lear­ned [Page 76] men can hardly ever give him. It seems to me, that those who have it want neither Art nor Learning: and when one hath it not, however compleat one may be in any thing, there is almost always some unhappy circumstance which spoils that which one does best. It seems then, that to the compleating of an honest worthy man, there is nothing necessary but well speaking and well doing.

Speaking well is what we are discour­sing of; when we have learned all the se­crets of a Tongue, with such other things as are taught in relation to well speaking, all this is nothing, in truth, if we know no­thing but this; for what probability is there of perswading or pleasing knowing persons, or what likelihood of getting an interest in them, unless we understand how to touch them, and can hit upon the right way to gain them? The most part of the great Masters (if you observe them) say not a word of this.

Without this knowledge (said the Mare­shal) it would be difficult to succeed well, especially in the Commerce of the World, where the least failings are taken notice of. When this misfortune happens, we cannot [Page 77] recover our selves when we would; and I see that it is of the greatest importance to have this sort of Wit, and to understand the World very well. I believe neverthe­less, that it would be very difficult to speak well upon all sorts of Subjects with­out either Art or Rules.

This Art (said the Chevalier) is easily learned, and is but a small matter (at least in the manner it is usually taught) the most part of those who know it, are but little the more able for it. Whether it be that the Precepts which have been given them are not very good, or that they have not been taught to make use of them as they ought. If instructions that were excellent were given, and they made practise them well as they gave them, it would without doubt be a great help to well speaking.

As for the Rules that are to be given, they must follow exactly those that are in use; the most part of those Rules regard the purity of the Language, and I find that many persons without having learned them, do notwithstanding put them in practice. There are other Rules that extend them­selves further, which Reason and long Ex­perience have made so. They are things [Page 78] which the Masters of that Art have obser­ved from that which has sometimes suc­ceeded well, and for that reason they thought that they might give them for Rules; but they are very often so uncer­tain, that they are not to be made use of, but according as one finds or judges them to the purpose; and if any one ties himself to them, he must have a regard to time and circumstances. So that if any one by his industry or by chance should discover something that is better and more than hath hitherto been seen, he ought to make use of his own discoveries and invention.

The best Art which makes us excel in speaking, shews it self only under a natural dress and appearance, it likes plain and na­tural beauty; but (and though it endea­vours to make its beauty and perfections to appear in their proper and best light) it contrives principally how to hide it self. Do you remember those enchanted Gar­dens of the Palace of Armide?

I find that those who are the most perfect, [Page 79] shew themselves least, and when things smell of Art and Study, we may conclude that those who say them have but little of either, or else that they know not how to make use of them. This is the fault of people who speak so, that they cannot be understood by any (though they have ne­ver so much Wit) unless they be learned: But as for those who understand not as they ought, by reason of their little know­ledge, or that they are not acquainted with the World, they must blame only themselves for it.

But this is a great deal for one sitting, if you have a mind to walk again, I perceive amongst these Orange-trees an Alley where you will find it cool. I see well (said the Mareshal rising up) that we shall discourse no more for to day, let us fetch two or three turns, and then to Dinner; for be­lieve me, my stomach begins to call: And after Dinner we will go to M.L.G. where we will play all day. I was so pleased with our Walk yesterday, that I must car­ry you thither again to morrow, not to the same place, but on the other side of the River upon that rising Hill, I will come to your Lodgings, and if you are within, we will go to the Hermitage.

THE FOURTH CONVERSATION.

ACcording to his promise the Mare­shal came to call the Chevalier a­bout four or five of the Clock in the Evening. It was fair Weather, but a little hot, according to the season; they quickly came to the Hermitage, which is but half a mile from the Town. There is a Cell and a Chappel with a Garden to it; they could not get in, because that no Her­mite lived there, and the two Religious men which were used to be there were gone forth that day, the Mareshal and the Chevalier went down a little further into the Wood, where the Trees a little fur­ther were very thick and tufted. Under this thickness (which the Sun could not penetrate) they walked upon the Turf, as in a Meadow where the grass begins but just to peep forth.

After they had walked a while, they [Page 81] stayed and sate down under an old Oak extremely thick, And what shall we say, cryed the Mareshal, or rather what shall we not say, I have spent the night at play where you left me, said the Chevalier, and that hath made me very dull. I did not perceive it, said the Mareshal, though we discoursed by the way. The Coach kept me stirring, said the Chevalier, now I am at quiet, the freshness of this Wood makes me drowsie: I am sometimes as you are now, answered the Mareshal, and when I am in that condition, methinks I feel a cer­tain sweetness, which is found between sleeping and waking, and I think of no­thing, only I am sensibly much pleased; but commonly I put it by, that I may be good Company, and besides one sleeps the better for it at night.

You told me as you were coming along, continued the Mareshal, that those persons who express themselves best, use repetiti­ons oftner than others, and yet it is thought a defect in them. Is there not something of contradiction in that? I remember it, said the Chevalier, and I do not think my self mistaken in it, that is, because people who speak well, make use at first of the [Page 82] best words and Phrases to express their thoughts, and when there is occasion to touch again upon the same things (as it often happens) although they know very well that Variety pleaseth, yet it is trou­blesom to them to quit the best expression to make use of a worse : whereas those who are not so curious, make use of the first that presents it self; so that Chance gives a Variety to their Language. And because we are quickly tired with one man­ner of speaking (although it be the exact­est) to make that which it signifies to be understood, we are apt to think it some defect, and those who speak purely, are more subject to it than the others; for there is a good and evil in all things, and so there is in Language, which in some kind cannot be too pure, but diversity is less tiresom, and the meanest word can find a fit place, our Tongue abounds not so much in words, that we need to reject it.

Some Ladies who have an admirable Wit, and who ought to make use of it, to do Justice to every thing, condemn some very good words, which 'tis almost impos­sible to be without. Those persons are they who use them too often, and common­ly [Page 83] to little purpose, that have given them this aversion; but though we must submit to the Judgment, and likewise to the aver­sion of those Ladies, yet for all that, I think it were not amiss to appeal sometimes to so many excellent men, who judge soundly and without caprice, and who have had meetings so long to decide concerning Language. I think it so, said the Mareshal, and it is not a business to be neglected; for the sweetest moments of our life pass in en­tertaining one another, and very few things are done without speaking; and I find by experience, that it is a great ad­vantage to succeed in it : But that in it which appears to me of the greatest im­portance is, that occasions are offered, wherein we have need of skill and wit to gain people, and to make them understand that one is in the right : people content themselves with the being able to acquit themselves tolerably well in this, which I have been speaking of; and the most part of them are perswaded, that if they can do a thing well, it is no hard matter to do it a little better, whereas in truth therein con­sists that which we call Perfection, and is the only difference between excellent [Page 84] Work-men and ordinary.

You have quite awakened me, said the Chevalier, with this word, a little better, which appears to me very difficult; but how happy is one that is able to attain to it! And I am of your Judgment, that it cannot be too much endeavoured in Con­versation, it is the surest means to make our selves to be beloved; besides, I find that when we please other persons well, we are likewise the better pleased with our selves, and thereon depends the greatest happiness of our life.

As to those opportunities and occasions, of which you speak, wherein those who are the skilfullest for the most part carry it, I am of opinion, that the best words and ways we can invent to perswade are not good, but so far only as they are decent and ho­nest, and that we should not desire to over­come like barbarous Princes on any terms, but like the Heroes in such a manner as may please even the vanquished them­selves.

I find nothing so commendable, as to have an upright and sincere heart; that seems to be the foundation of Wisdom, or at least all wicked people are by me suspe­pected [Page 85] of folly. It is impossible to have a noble and well framed mind, but it must be somewhat across and contrary to the inte­rest of the World; and even in the trans­ports of the most violent passions, such per­sons will through them discern that which is most honest, and love it best.

Those who have an upright heart, their Judgment, how small soever, will be the same; and observe always, that those peo­ple who have so many turnings and dou­bles in their heart, never have a right Un­derstanding: there is always some counter­feit light which gives them false appearan­ces, and then their artifices and craft shew that they have not parts enough to effect their designs by fair and honest ways, the way that pleases worthy persons, is that of freedom and plain dealing.

What a Gracefulness so clear a Source gives to all the actions of our lives! how it beautifies our words and thoughts! and how aimable a thing it is to speak well, when so much sincerity goes along with it! One may not perhaps be happy in all things in following this Maxime (neither are those so who are biassed to their own interest) at the least one is sure to gain [Page 86] the esteem and affection of those who un­derstand true merit, and what can one de­sire more?

As the Chevalier was speaking, he took notice that the Marshal wholly gave himself up to hearken to him, & fearing lest so much attention might be hurtful to him, he en­deavoured to divert him by some pleasant digression. The Mareshal, who perceived it, I see very well, said he, that you are willing to favour my health, but you take not the right way. Every one must be dealt with according to that spirit that is in them: you must accommodate your self to every palate; that which is a diversion to most people, is tedious to me, sense and reason never tire me: those things more especially which may make me more ho­nest and accomplished, always please me. Well then, let us continue, said the Che­valier, one would not have thought you so serious.

Amongst persons of rare merit, of whom I have some Idæa; I see some of them who behave themselves so nobly in every thing, that they undertake they cannot be thought on without admiration, and I take notice also of others who speak in so sub­lime [Page 87] a manner, that it is very hard to at­tain to it; however one should strive to equal them both in the one and the other, and if it be possible to surpass them: for be it in acting or in speaking, there is no­thing which is not of this value, that de­serves to be loved and admired. When the heart and brain are full of these thoughts, and people accustomed to them from their infancy, from thence we may justly expect something very rare and ex­quisite to be produced.

We need not trouble our selves whether all necessary consequences are made good. It imports not much whether one be at the first so equal or so regular, provided that the manner be so fair and noble, that those who consider it, cannot say how one may go; with a little care and time one arrives at perfection, and it seems, that Fortune her self takes delight to compleat any thing which is well begun. I know some who speak well, and commit none of those we call faults, but it is always in the same tone: we know what we are to expect from them; and in my judgment there is nothing we should so much endeavour to avoid as the not having something extra­ordinary [Page 88] in our discourse. It may so hap­pen, that 'tis for want of a good occasion that we say nothing that is excellent, and the subject may not permit it. Yet for all this there is no subject so untoward, which may not be turned to some pleasant sense by those who know how to make good use of their Wit. For that which for the most part seems difficult to me, and even impos­sible, is not so much in it self, as because of our little skill and invention; for peo­ple might do many things that would cause astonishment, if they had industry enough to discover the ways of doing it; and 'tis certain, that there are such ways, though they are not always found out.

While people are young, they cannot judge rightly of any thing, and if it comes to pass, that either by experience, reflecti­ons, or the meeting with some intelligent persons, they come to be of another mind, they despise that which they once so much admired, and many times they laugh at themselves, when they examine themselves without flattery. But if any one knew the just value of every thing aright, do you not think that he would divert himself, and make good sport with those people [Page 89] that are cryed up, at least with those that presume, and have a great opinion of them­selves? As for the rest who satisfie them­selves with small matters, and have hum­ble thoughts of themselves, one cannot laugh at them, although they do amiss, because they know that all the World is capable of committing the like errours, and they act upon that Maxime.

And so, though we have but a glimpse, or do but fancy something better than that which we speak, yet we must have a little confidence to express it well and with a good grace. But nothing is so great a hin­drance to the attaining perfection, as the belief that one hath already found it.

It comes into my mind (said the Mare­shal smiling) that the more perfect one is, the more this that we say may be useful, and that our entertainments are almost like (if the comparison offends you not) the Commentaries of Cæsar, by which no body could much profit, unless he were a great Souldier before. For we touch by the by only on that which offers it self as necessa­ry for the making of a worthy honest man. What we say concerns those only who are animated with such a kind of Spirit as we [Page 90] are; as for the rest, they will never go very far. But do you think that this Spi­rit may be acquired? If you judge it may, how would you begin to infuse it into Children? for one must not pretend to begin with them so high at the first.

It were to be wished, that those who e­ducate Children, said the Chevalier, would endeavour to make them love or hate that which deserves the one or the other, I mean as much as Childhood will permit, and to order it so, that they may have a good taste or discernment. For to express my self well, I must make use of this word, which so many people abuse, a good taste would make him understand what he ought to desire to learn, and the means to be ex­cellent in it : For if he had afore-hand a right apprehension of good and of evil, the very course of things would instruct him without a Governour, and likewise the a­version to that which is evil, whenever he saw it, would be a sufficient Lesson to him to avoid it.

One cannot have too curious a taste to discern between true and false pleasures, and not be deceived in what pleases or dis­pleases. That which I mean by it is, not [Page 91] to disrelish every thing, like a sick person, but to be able to judge well of any thing that presents it self I know not by what a kind of apprehension (which I cannot ex­press) which works quicker, and is some­times more in the right, than reflections are; but for all that we must not reject too severely that which is displeasing, or be too busie with our reproofs. The most a­greeable way of instructing and reforming others, is to endeavour to do that well our selves, which we see them do ill, by which means we make our life the more easie. Besides, I would have it so ordered, that a young mans wit and heart be disposed as it ought to be. Wit finds out the means to attain to perfection, and the heart is ne­cessary to put in practice that which we judge to be best; for honesty is not a meer speculation, 'tis fit it should be active and govern.

We see many Children, said the Mare­shal, who are not without some prudence and a fore-sight of what may be either hurtful or beneficial to them; but that which is called the having a good taste (for I dare use this word as well as you all the elegant ways of speaking, when [Page 92] they are not affected, and are well appli­ed, are becoming enough) I say, that which I called the having a good taste, must not be expected from young people, unless they are born with a much more than an ordinary Genius, or that there hath been a great care had in their Education. I do not know whence that proceeds, un­less it be, that by a natural instinct, they take at first to that which appears to them the most necessary, and that the rest af­fects them but very little.

This is an excellent reason which you give, said the Chevalier, and I look upon it as a hard matter for one that is young not to be transported with that which sparkles, and makes the best shew, there should be as much care as could be taken to undeceive Children, because that it is natural to them as well as to the people in general to love Shows; and even these who are born Princes, they are inclined na­turally to delight in Stage-plays and pub­lick Spectacles. But those that are perfect, and that have a good judgment, regard not things of shew, when they are but of little worth; those which are but of little lu­stre and great prize, please them. That is [Page 93] to be taken notice of in all things, even in our thoughts and understandings; for if those sorts of things seem very fine, they are so only in appearance, and presently disliked; those that are so in reality, with­out appearance, the more they are consi­dered, the better they are liked: the rea­son is, because they are fair of themselves, without any helps or ornaments, and that still we discover some new and secret gra­ces in them, which were not at the first perceived.

How comes it to pass, said the Mareshal, that some people who express themselves well upon some certain Subjects, differ so much from themselves, when they under­take to discourse of other things? and do not admire you that that man (whom we have both known, and who had so much Wit) hath left behind him such ill Love-Letters, he who writ such good ones on other Sub­jects? How could that be? was it not still one and the same Genius? It is indeed the same Genius, answered the Chevalier, but the most accomplished in the World is not able alike in all things, and diversity of Subjects cause him to produce very diffe­rent effects.

[Page 94] Besides, to do a thing well, it is not e­nough to know the manner of doing it, but we must take delight in it, and not be tired with it. We find that commonly good Masters speak well of that which re­lates to their own Trade, and I fancy to my self, that this mans Trade was not ma­king of Love, or at least that he never well understood what it was. It cannot be said to be want of Wit, if his Letters concern­ing Love are not as his others so well e­steemed, for there is in some of them more than enough; but the Wit was ill imployed, when his business was to touch the heart, he was thinking how to refine things, and shew his witty conceits. He writ to a Lady, with whom he was passio­nately in Love, that his Soul was so weak, that it had not strength enough to go quite out of his body, that was the reason only which kept a little life in him: To another, that the only thing that hindred him from dying was, that he should have some plea­sure in it, and that he resolve he would not receive any in her absence.

He took these inventions from the Spa­niards, and I make no doubt but they are good Models; but he made use of them [Page 95] unseasonably. For this gallant and frolick manner of writing, which might be well received at the beginning of an Amour, was not seasonable in the height of the fit, at which time people seldom use to droll and jest. Besides, when he speaks seriously he makes it his business chiefly to perswade her of his Love, and that the quickest and best way to succeed is not to be so forward to declare ones Love. It were much more to the purpose for him to find out a way how to render his affection agreeable and acceptable to her. For a handsom Woman easily believes that she doth not displease, and I think she is in the right, so that to tell her she is handsom, and that we love her, need be the least part of our care; she de­sires not always to be loved, and the most important thing consists in the ordering of it, so that if you did love her, she might be very glad of it; we ought at least to begin there. I find he very punctually examines all that passed in his heart, and to speak my judgment, he should remember that it is not the nature of violent passions to re­flect upon themselves. A man that is trans­ported with anger, doth not think that he is in such a fury, and one that is confounded [Page 96] with Love perceives not that he is so, or at least if he do take notice of it, he consi­ders himself no otherwise than in a natural estate, which he believes can never alter. I take notice also, that he doth so exagge­rate his grief and despair, that one may easily perceive that 'tis all false. It were much better to say less of it, and leave them the more to think. Besides, Love should be discerned a good while by the person beloved, without her being told of it, and above all, care must be taken not to make any complaint that savours of Ar­tifice, or that may give any distrust of what we say. That Adventure of Astræa and her Lover, who threw himself into the River Lignon, is easie and natural: They used no such high strains one to the other; their affection appeared not so much in their words, but all that was observed in them discovered it, and there never was any thing seen more tender and more affect­ing.

Besides it seems to me, that there is no Subject that can less allow of false Orna­ments; and that that person whom we men­tioned, had sometimes (contrary to his custom) made use of some when he writ [Page 97] his Love-Letters; but that which was most displeasing in him, was his too open and plain proceeding in that affair. The fair Goddess (said an ancient Greek) doth not think well nor approve of any that speak so openly of her Mysteries; and any one without being told it, may see that the veiling of them hath a good effect, and the expressions thereof cannot be too delicate and obscure: witness this Verse,

I find notwithstanding, said the Mare­shal, that this person hath done something that is admirable in this kind, which agrees but ill with what you believe of him, that he was not most knowing in these matters. Can there be any thing more in perfection than that which is spoken to his Heroine? The praise of that, said the Che­valier, is not wholly due to him : A Lady who gave him the design and the inventi­on, ought to have the greatest share of it. It is the same Lady whom he hath so well represented under the name of Zelide. The work was for some time in her hands afore any had seen it; that which hath so much [Page 98] charmed you comes from her, and you knowing her cannot wonder at it. You tell me a great deal of News, said the Mar­shal, and perhaps you think that you have fully satisfied me; but I have still one que­stion more to ask you.

What is it that they mean by that high Eloquence which doth what it pleases, as so many people say? I have asked some concerning it, who have bragged that they understood what it was, but never any one as yet could make me comprehend it. That which you ask me, said the Chevalier, is so little understood in the World, that even the word Eloquence might be ill re­ceived: For it seems▪ to me, that it is sel­dom used but to play upon those who are less pleased with good sense than with a fine fantastical way of speaking.

It may be made use of in Raillery, said the Mareshal, but it would shew too much of niceness, and indeed of ignorance, to re­ject it altogether. Besides, at the Court they seldom speak of other things than what they see there, and those kind of things in which every one easily interests himself and understands, makes that which is said seem agreeable. But in such retired [Page 99] places as these, if we did not entertain our selves on certain Subjects, which the Court trouble not themselves withal, we should spend our time but unpleasantly.

I agree to it, said the Chevalier, and that which you aim at deserves very well to be examined; but the most part of those things which are considered rather by ap­prehension than by reason, are always something doubtful, and this same is of that number, and so are all those that concern the Graces, and likewise the Beauty, al­though the cause of this latter is less hid­den than that of the Graces. If there were a dispute concerning two handsom Women which of them was the most agreeable and fairest, it would be hard to decide it, or at least to make it so cleary appear, that all people in the World should agree to it. One might say on such an occasion, such a thing causes such an effect in me; but I know not what others think of it. I take this to serve as an excuse to my self, if I am singular in my opinion.

I do not think this high Eloquence to be so as it is imagined. People will have that it ought to amaze, and that it must be al­ways a high strain. And as they are of opi­nion, [Page 100] that a plain and familiar style is low and mean; so they believe that others cannot appear naturally. If it should be so too, 'tis because they have more regard to the Or­nament than to the Excellency of the hing, and they do not consider that they should judge of it, as they do of gold, which is esteemed according to its refinedness and purity.

I should be of a quite contrary Judg­ment to those who will have it always storming and thundering; and I think that it naturally loves to shew it self without trouble and noise.

As it is the finest and most noble, it is also the most difficult and least common, it proceeds from a just and subtil discern­ment, but so high and of so large an ex­tent, that there is nothing can be found a­bove or beyond his. It is a fire pure and quick, and there are discovered by chance some glances of it, even in the most care­less and ordinary Conversations. Although it addresses it self principally to the mind, and seems to make the gaining of that its only aim, yet it never fails to reach the heart. If any one indeed have a mind to perplex and put the Soul in disorder, they [Page 101] must take another way more sensible, and a more lively tone; but this high Elo­quence is not found but in the loftiness of high conceptions. Those who understand it only as that which is called a fine Style, do not take notice (if I mistake not) of that which it hath most exquisite in it. Al­so in my judgment there must be a great stock of Beauty to support great Orna­ments, and it seldom happens, that people conceive things that require such [...] magni­ficent way of expressing them. That which I have said is a little intricate, and may not perhaps be well understood, peradventure it may be better apprehended in a more fa­miliar and known Subject.

When Ladies have a mind to appear, as it were to vie with others in a great Assembly, you know they adorn them­selves to please rather than to dazle the sight: to some the richest attire is most be­coming, and to others the most modest; and commonly they avoid extremities, they strive not to be too dull nor too glit­tering; we scarce see two in the same dress, and this variety is that which em­bellisheth the Scene.

Since I am fallen upon this, I find that [Page 102] the Eloquence which conceives well, and expresseth it self ill, is much like a hand­som Woman ill dressed, or in a careless habit; and that that which makes it self not much to be considered as to Wit, but is very ready and dexterous as to the Lan­guage, may resemble a Woman passably handsom, but very exactly drest and set out, who for all her great care charms no body. But if wit and a ready clear ex­pression meddle, that is Beauty it self, whereto nothing is wanting, and which pleaseth in perfection.

I am very much satisfied with the Idæa that you give me of it, said the Mareshal, and I conclude thereupon, that to express ones self well, one must endeavour to find out that in a Subject which is best and most agreeable; but not strive so much to give a lustre to the things that one says, as to place them in such a manner which is most proper and best becomes them.

I would not be too florid in the begin­ning; it is a thing much to be wished, that all that one says be good and fine, accord­ing as the Subject merits : but we must pro­ceed by degrees: Nature is in that as in all other things, a very knowing Mistress. [Page 103] Consider how she proceeds insensibly, the fairest day when it begins first to break and appear, hath so little light, that it is hardly discernable whether it be day or night. I discover all my thoughts to you, and if I am deceived, or take one thing for another, I hope you will take notice of it to me.

In my mind nothing is so great a sign, that the way of speaking is noble, as when it leaves some certain things to be appre­hended without speaking them: the ex­pression is clear enough, if one understands all that another says, although we do not at the first understand all that he thinks, or that his sense extends it self beyond his words.

People many times seek out so many subtilties, and refine so upon a Subject, that that which was at first well said, be­comes at last not so; when we have hit the point right, 'tis good to know when to give over, and to proceed to other matters: I would likewise give them ano­ther face and turn, because diversity seems not tedious.

The person that speaks should accom­modate himself to the Understanding of [Page 104] those who hear him. The more Wit one has, the more he ought to be careful of it. Many times by thinking and speaking things which few people have been used to hear, though they are expressed very clear­ly, they may be carried so high, that their heads may be giddy and turn round. Ne­vertheless this defect should have its due, and I find it so seldom, that I meet with none that do complain of it, nor who are not glad of it; and at the worst we may easily help it and break our selves of it.

As to those they call Jests or Sayings, I should think that they depend not less up­on the subject, nay even upon chance, than upon the understanding and wit; and that we must watch our time to bring them out. There is no great need of them, I think, and it is enough, if one speaks like a well­bred honest man. That which is just and proper upon every occasion that is offered, 'tis better far than fine conceits; yet for all that they are much liked, and I should not wonder at it, if in effect they be good conceits; but I admire that Equivocati­ons, which have only the appearance of them, have brought people of very ordi­nary wits into credit.

[Page 105] They affect to speak Equivocations and Allusions now adays, as heretofore they did to make Portraictures and Characters. For there is always, you know, some false A­gréments wherewith the World is abused.

I think, said the Chevalier, this to be a very ill invention; for to make ones self be heard with pleasure, one must say such things as others will be glad to hear, and say them pleasantly. I fancy that those makers of Characters and Portraictures did neither of these. For the most part of those whom they represented so curi­ously, there was so little likeness, that the persons could not be known. And besides their manner and way of portraicting was not very good; for to make people be­lieve what they take notice of to be most rare or singular in them (whether it be that they would commend or lessen them) there is a more noble and sure way than to draw as they do, even to the smallest Lines.

Excellent Painters never draw all; they always allow something for you to exer­cise your imagination on, and still leave them more to find out than they discover. That famous Greek so celebrated for his [Page 106] Wit and Inventing, did not spend much of his time in describing Helena. He said not scarce any thing of her Face, nor of her Stature, and yet for all that he hath per­swaded all the World, that she was the beautifullest Woman that ever was seen.

Tasso, who on other Subjects touched like a Master, should have done well to have imitated him, and when he speaks of the Arrival of Armide into the Camp of the Christians, if he had contented himself with saying in two or three words, that as soon as she appeared, and that they had heard her speak, they had a mind to for­sake all to follow her, and that even the General who ought to have been more re­served, and less sensible, was tempted by her, we should then without doubt, have thought her more amiable. All that he heaps together of the Charms of Nature and of Art, gives us not so fair an Idæa, as that which one might form to ones self, and one never fails in doing it.

The graces appear but very rarely, and even when they are seen they will not be considered full-fac'd nor uncovered, it is hard to draw them well; and if one should compass it, every one looking upon them [Page 107] with different eyes, the Picture would ne­ver please every body.

But the Sun is setting, and is it not time think you to retire? Let us go, said the Mareshal, and if you think it convenient we will walk a while for a little more Ex­ercise.

THE FIFTH CONVERSATION.

THE Mareshal received Letters of­ten from Paris and from the Court, and writ thither as often to keep up the Commerce, shewed the Chevalier sometimes what he had written. I cannot understand why people thought he was not an extraordinary person in that way as he was in speaking. It seems to me, that what he writes shews much of a worthy well-bred man, and there is always wit in it.

It is true, that there is not so much order and placing of words required in Conversa­tion, which very few mind in speaking. I believe nevertheless, that if people did ob­serve it, so that it seemed neither strained nor affected, they would speak much better. However, if the things that are said are good severally, and that there be a grace in speaking them, they are well received. [Page 109] But commonly that which is written must have a connexion, and it must be so order­ed, that there may be no appearance that any pains was taken in observing it. And if any one pretend to do something worth the being read; it is not enough that each piece please in it self, but they must be made the one to fit ▪ and agree with the o­ther, and they must be proportionate.

It is taken notice of the Mareshal, that he loves always to be sprightly and full of fire, and though he chiefly studies to please those who understand and judge best, yet he neglects not the esteem of others. In that he resembles those Ladies, who cannot en­dure any one should escape them: Setting aside certain History, some few Relations, and a small number of Books which he hath read, he is only well versed in the World, yet for all that he understands every thing. It happens also very often, that he improves and carries things further, which he hath but newly learned. What would a young man of such parts as his come to, if he were educated by good Masters?

The Chevalier came to his house the next day from a Conversation that he had been at. The Mareshal was retired into [Page 110] his Chamber after he rose from the Table, and seeing the Chevalier come in, I have very much wished for you, said he to him, to assist me against five or six very Learned men, who would be good company enough if they had but common sense. Before we sate down to Dinner, I set them disputing, and I spoke in my turn; but when I thought I should triumph most, there were two of them (if I am not mistaken) who whisper­ed to each other, that they could not ap­prehend what it was that was thought so rare in me. They make me call to mind, said the Chevalier, a very able man, that I knew that had read over all Tasso with very much attention, without finding in it either Wit, or any thing to please him.

One never informs ones self by those sort of people, said the Mareshal, they ne­ver apprehend aright those things that are said to them: where there is least sense, there is enough for them, and any thing that is proposed, although never so clear, seems obscure to them. Besides, they have a Language apart, which I understand not, and which would be very ill received in the World. And it so happens, that in­stead of coming to the knot of the business, [Page 111] they divide that which you ask them into so many parts, that the one puts the other out of ones mind; so that one remembers no longer what it was. It much delights me to see how they range in such great or­der in things that are of so little conse­quence. Any one that hath a just Wit and a true Judgment, pursues closely that which they hear spoken, or what they speak them­selves, without varying it into so many forms and figures. I am pleased that eve­ry one in Conversation should seek an a­greeable diversity and some little digressi­ons, and that they by degrees should some­times raise themselves, if the occasion per­mits. Though one wanders and soars a little too high, one may well enough re­cover ones self: and if my Judgment may be allowed, one ought to go whithersoe­ver ones Genius leads, without any other division or distinction than that of good sense; at least this manner is more confor­mable to our apprehensions and thoughts, than that so regular Method of some peo­ple, who disguise every thing. There is nothing in that which is natural, nor for the most part which is real; therefore when they breed up Children, I know not why [Page 112] they should accustom them to such imper­tinent constrained Rules, which afterwards they cannot practise without rendring themselves ridiculous?

Study may hinder, said the Chevalier, at least we must not pretend that it will infallibly make Master-pieces. Nor the World neither, said the Mareshal, doth not do it always, especially of those people who are bred only in the Army; who commonly are not of a very pleasing Con­versation; but in recompence of that they are said to have gained Reputation and Honour, as if that would excuse their wants in every thing else: we may between our selves say, that nothing is so great a dishonour as to be disagreeable and mo­rose. It is something like certain Women that pretend to Vertue, who value them­selves much upon their being coy and fierce; for, to prize so small a matter so much▪ makes me think that all is but coun­terfeit and affected, and that they are easier won upon, than those who observe good Manners and Breeding, and are as affable as these are severe. The first seems to me to desire to be thought what she is not by some people which she likes not, and with [Page 113] whom she does not desire to ingage; the other is satisfied that she knows her self honest.

When we judge sincerely, said the Che­valier, there is scarce any thing to be found that is perfect: but the more exquisite dis­cernment one hath, the more it is for ones honour to be indulgent, and we must not expect to meet with people as one would have them; but we should endeavour to make them such, and especially if we love them, and are obliged to pass our time with them. As for others that one sees but by chance, they are not to be ordered as we will; they can only be a l'ttle im­proved by telling them such things as are judged most proper; and if they are ca­pable of profiting by them, that will at the least dispose them to compleat them­selves.

As soon as I begin to speak, said the Mareshal, you understand me better than I understand my self, and whatsoever you tell me appears to me so easie to compre­hend, that I think many times I knew it before you told it. I am continually think­ing of my Children, who cannot as yet be without me, and I love them the better [Page 114] for it; and though Wealth be something, yet I wish them nothing so much as I do Parts. We discourse sometimes of that which we think best for the educating of a young Prince, and by this Model, as near as it is fit for us to come to it, in my judg­ment we might breed our Children. For I imagine that is one and the same vertue that knows how to command, if Fortune pleases, and how to obey, when ones duty obligeth one to it. And being sate down with the Chevalier: You said (continued he) that Study might hinder; I would gladly inform my self in what manner it should be used, for I do not believe that you are of the opinion to renounce it ab­solutely.

That would be (said the Chevalier) a very fantastical opinion, indeed the best natural parts of the World would be but of little value, if there were not care taken to improve and bring them to perfection. One can never take any thing aright with­out having learned it; and who can be­lieve, that either to do a thing well that one doth ill, or to do it better, if one doth it well, that Study can ever hinder? that is to say, to seek out the means, and that [Page 115] under the best Masters; for so it is that one ought to study.

It is seen by all sorts of Exercises, how much Art and good Masters are necessary, and it were very strange, that the body should be capable of instruction, and that the mind should not be so to. For what like­lihood is there, that if Practice and good Masters are without peradventure effectual for the making people skillful in riding the great Horse, that to the making of an ac­complisht person, they should both of them be altogether needless and hurtful?

The body and the mind are seldom as one could wish; but the defects of the body seem to me more difficult to be cor­rected: the mind is naturally souple, and it may be redressed, provided a right course be taken. And who can doubt, that if there be any one as exact in breeding Youth, as it is said, Pignatel was good at Horsmanship, but that he might make an accomplisht man, as well as Pignatel made a good Horse-man? How comes it about then, that it many times falls out other­wise? The truth is, that when one learns to do a thing of an ill Master, one learns to do it ill; and it is much more difficult to [Page 116] chuse good Masters for the framing of the mind, than for the body. For the advan­tages of the body are much more remark­able and more known than those of the mind. And besides, many people who are capable of instructing the mind, will not always meddle in it; for in truth, as the World judges of it, there would be but very little honour gained by undertaking the Trade, although they did acquit them­selves of it in perfection.

It is certain, that to be able, well bred, and agreeable to such a degree as one would wish a great Prince, one cannot know too many things, so that he have the skill to make a right use of them, and that he knows how to value them. But to speak my Judgment, it is not to be knowing, to have read very much, nor to have learned a great number of different opinions which discover nothing certainly. We know no­thing well but that which we see clearly, and that which we can presently make o­thers see and understand, if they are clear-sighted. We should mistrust all that which we perceive but as through a Cloud, and which we cannot make very plain to the sight of another.

[Page 117] Whilst people are young, they learn lit­tle more than certain words which make a shew of Learning, though they are know­ing in nothing, and that is not becoming to a man that is abroad in the World. I would have one know all things, and that his man­ner of discoursing might not betray his ha­ving studied.

It is a very great advantage to have an inspection into things, said the Mareshal, and to know the World, whether it be that we are to speak or write: but that which savours too much of Study, is for the most part not liked. I know not whether it be well to write as one speaks, and to speak as one writes. Many people have been of opinion that it is, but it seems to me, that the use is otherwise. 'Twere more likely, answered the Chevalier, if they had said, that we should write as we desire to speak, and speak as we desire to write; for one seldom doth either of them as we wish we could. This question which is not to be despised by persons of wit, may easily be cleared.

We write things which are never pro­nounced, and which are made only to be read, as a History, or any such like thing. [Page 118] When any one undertakes that, and would be successful in it, they must not write as if they were telling a story in Company: History is more noble, and more severe; Conversation is more free, and negligent. And as there are some things which are only fit to be read, so there are others which are made principally to be heard spoken, as Harangues. If we would judge of their worth, we must consider to what degree they are good when they are pro­nounced, since that is what they aim at. And because that Letters are not pronoun­ced (for although they are many times read aloud) yet that is not called pronouncing, we should not write them altogether as we speak. As for Example, whosoever should see a person to whom he had just been writing a Letter, although it were very excellent, he would not say the same things to him that he had written, or at the least he would not say them in the same man­ner: yet for all that it is good when we write, to imagine in some sort that we are speaking, that we may not put in any thing that is not natural, or which may not be spoken in Company: and likewise when we speak, to fancy that we are writing, [Page 119] that we may not say any thing that is not noble, and which hath not something of exactness.

How comes it to pass, said the Mareshal, that many people are said to speak well, who cannot write well? It is many times believed, answered the Chevalier, that some certain persons speak well in effect, when in truth they only speak well in appearance. That is because either their presence star­tles, or the sound of their voice surpriseth. When any one excelleth in speaking, they may do the same in writing: it is true, that this latter requires a little more care. Also it seems to me, that one cannot write well, without knowing how to speak well; but it happens, that those who make it their study to write well, have commonly a lan­guishing way of speaking, which is as it were almost spent. Those people mind too much the sound and harmony. This soft­ness of Language which they affect, makes them many times lose by little and little the natural use of it, which consists in gi­ving to every thing that one speaks the motions that we feel in our hearts. For we do not speak only to make our thoughts to be understood, but to express our ap­prehensions, [Page 120] which are two very different things.

He who finds himself not moved at any thing, is as unfit to speak as he that thinks nothing. The heart hath its Language, as the Wit hath his, and this expression of the heart works many times the greatest ef­fects. When the heart is not agitated, al­though one hath very much wit, it touches not so sensibly; and when one is stirred, if the wit fails, they only make a noise, and so unseasonably, that they were better hold their peace. It is necessary then for the heart to have apprehensions, and for the wit, not only to guide, but also to make the choice of them. For as there are thoughts which are agreeable, and others which are not, the very same diversity is found in the motions of the heart, some of them are well received, and others re­jected. You know much better than I, that to inspire either joy or sadness, and many other passions which govern the World (in truth to the prejudice of reason) it is not enough to know them by experience, but we must be affected with them at the same instant, at least so as we are with those things which are represented on the Thea­tres.

[Page 121] Whether we design to speak well, or to write well, we must have many considera­tions in the well doing of it: very few people have succeeded. The most diffi­cult thing, in my Judgment, is to be know­ing in that which ought to please, and to have a Genius to put it in practice. I say in that which ought to please, because it is very difficult to be assured of it. For in matters of agreements every one hath his several relish, and if you take notice of that which commonly pleases, it proceeds not so much from the perfection of it, as from a certain temperature, which agrees with our natural sentiments. It is this pro­portion which charms us, and it is not per­ceived from whence it comes; but in my Judgment the true graces, those which af­fect most, and which are always liked, are never to be without a delicateness, and that great things, as Pomp and Magnificence, are made not so much to please, as to cause admiration. Beauty it self, when it hath so much lustre, is above our strength, we cannot support it. We praise the greatest Beauties, but we love the prettiest: The reason is, because we are tired with long admiring, and whatsoever is made only for [Page 122] that, displeaseth as soon as the admiration is over.

We must apply our selves to think well, the excellency of thoughts hath so many advantages over other certain Beauties, they hope to find in Arts and Study, that he who thinks the best, is always above o­thers. I find also, that those who have a good discernment in things, have likewise the advantage in the manner of expressing them, and that it is the exquisiteness of the apprehension which makes the Language excellent. All this depends upon acqui­ring that king of Wit, which we have been so much speaking of, and that Master who can teach it, may be said to be an excel­lent Master.

Things of action and memory are very easily learned, and there are people enough to be found, who know how to teach them. But it is not so with that which they call to Know and to Judge: This is the Master­piece of the mind, especially as to that which regards skill and invention, the just­ness and decency of things. There are but few Masters who do not make one take a contrary course, which cannot afterwards easily be altered. And because the first [Page 123] motions and impressions which are made in the heart of a Child take deepest root, and insensibly disposeth and swayeth him to good or evil for his whole life; I could wish that such Books only might be read to the young Prince, as might give him the Idæa, or at least the apprehension of per­fection by some most remarkable passages written by a good hand. For sometimes we see things so well hit, that it is impossi­ble either to say or think them better. One makes a great progress when one forms ones self after such models, and by the ac­customing ones self, whatsoever one says hath a taste of it.

This Language which few persons know how to speak, proceeds from a justness of wit, and from an extent of understanding, which discovers things as they are. It is a natural discernment, which nevertheless we constantly improve, when we think of it as we ought, and frequent the company of such persons who have it by Nature. But I tell you again, Sir, that those who bemoan themselves for not having studied as commonly people study, have lost but little by it.

It is no inconsiderable thing the being [Page 124] able to undeceive ones self in all things, and to know how to set a value upon eve­ry thing according to its merit: And if any one would discover to us, or but only make us sensible what we ought to believe of things, we should have a great obligati­on to that person. Most people account this nothing; but for all that, it is certain, that without this knowledge we must be always either fool'd by our selves, or un­just to all others.

It seems to me, said the Mareshal, that to be instructed how to live, and to insi­nuate such opinions as one ought to have, there is nothing more to be feared than an ill Master. I do not wonder so much, that such as are first offered, are taken for us, that is not of so much consequence: But for a great Prince, upon whom the happiness of the Publick must hereafter absolutely de­pend, and by whose Example so many peo­ple will endeavour to fashion themselves, as being the most noble Model, no care in the World should be neglected. If there were a man in the farthest part of the In­dies, who could acquit himself therein bet­ter than the ablest amongst us, I would have him fetched. The business is to make a [Page 125] great King, whom we may love and ad­mire; to make him happy, and likewise to order it so, that all those who live under him may be happy too. For it is but rea­sonable that those should a little share in his happiness, who are in duty obliged to sa­crifice themselves for the procuring of it.

There is nothing requisite, said the Che­valier, but the rendring of him an honest and worthy man, at least that is the most important thing. I see, said the Mareshal, that this word honest man almost compre­hends every thing. But if any one should ask me what it is, I should find my self much to seek. I do not wonder at it, said the Chevalier, for a thing of so large an extent, looks too many ways, and hath too many appearances and shadows to be expressed in two or three words. Those who say that honesty consists in living and dying well, only vary the terms, without clearing the question. Besides, if one should not dye, he might notwithstanding by living be an honest man, nay he might by that means make a greater progress therein. To have a more distinct know­ledge of it, we may look upon it in it self separated from all other things that are [Page 126] not of it, or foreign to it, and consider it by all sorts of lights.

Tell me what you believe of it, said the Mareshal, I should be glad to see whether we have the same thoughts in a thing of this consequence. I know, said the Che­valier, that you must needs understand it rightly, because you make use of it always as your guide; and if that Idæa which I have of it be good, it must without doubt be conformable to yours. For perfect ho­nesty is always the same in what subjects soever it is found, although the difference of Time and Fortune makes it appear ve­ry differently. But under whatever form it shews it self, it always pleaseth, and by that it may principally be known; for the true Agreements come not from a simple su­perficial, or a slight appearance, but from a great stock of Wit or Merit, which min­gles and shews it self in all that one says, and in all the actions of ones life.

It seems to me, that it affects not to make a mystery of any thing, that as it avoids all extreams, it endeavours not to hide, nor to shew it self. Its first appearance hath not so much lustre, as either to dazle or to surprise people; but when we come to con­sider [Page 127] her, we find that it hath so much Grace in every thing that is offered of good or ill, of serious or pleasant, that one would think that all things are alike to it and a­greeable. And if there be any parts so disadvantagious, that it would be impossi­ble for the Graces themselves to act them well, it knows well how to refuse them.

I find that it is not cruel, but willing to excuse and pardon, and it is so far from raising it self upon the misery of another, that it is always ready to help those that are so. It makes all those who depend up­on it happy, so far as Fortune permits; and if it be not in its power to do that, at least it makes no body sad, it is careful to avoid that even in the smallest things. If it jests sometimes, its mirth and gayety tends only to the delight even of those whom it makes sport with. It is never so much satisfied with it self, but that it is sensible that there is still something beyond what it can pre­tend to. it seeks no false advantages, but on the contrary, if occasion offers not it self, we must many times guess at that which is best in it.

Its own interest deludes it not, and if it so happens, that an honest man be accu­sed, [Page 128] although his life be aimed at, he makes not use of all sorts of Arguments and Rea­sons to defend himself, but that little he says makes every body regret that they offended him. Represent to your self So­crates, Scipio, or some others of that rank; for I observe that those people are as it were above Fortune, at least they are not transported with prosperity : and what mis­fortune soever attacqueth them, although they are never heard to say that their ver­tue doth not forsake them, yet we may find that they have more than enough to sup­port them. I find that honesty always judges well, although it be very cautious in deciding; it prefers Choice before Abun­dance, and hath more care of being neat and cleanly than richly drest; and values those things that are least in sight more than those that are soon discovered. Do you not take notice likewise, that it hath more regard to Merit than to Fortune? that it is not subject to be prejudiced against any body; that which disorders narrow Souls surpriseth it very little; and the opinion of the World hinders it not from under­standing the true value of things?

I believe it depends but little either up­on [Page 129] time or place; and that he who can attain so far as to be an honest worthy man in his Cottage, would be the same in all the the Courts of the World. But there are many things necessary to the being a wor­thy honest man. And although some may pass for such at the Courts of great Prin­ces, we must not therefore conclude, that there is nothing wanting in them, unless they can be so every where, and amongst all sorts of people.

Many observations might be made, if any one would enlarge upon this Subject. But to conclude, 'tis observed, that hone­sty hath this in it, it leaves a kind and ten­der remembrance always of it self in those who have once known it, and carries it self so, that every body is very glad to have obliged it.

But now after all this, a Lady who was perfectly handsom, and of so pleasing a wit and humour, that even the handsomest La­dies could not chuse but love her, asked me what an honest man was, and an ho­nest Woman; for the expression is pro­per to both: and when I told her my opi­nion of it, and that she her self had dis­coursed very rationally of it, she confessed [Page 130] that she thought all that which I told her was very necessary for the being that which she had asked. But yet there was som­thing more which was unexplainable, and was better known by practice than by ex­pression, which, as she imagined, consist­ed in I knew not what of Nobleness, that heightens all the good Qualities, and which proceeds only from the heart and from the mind, the rest is only the Train and Equi­page of it.

This Lady, said the Mareshal, was very hard to be pleased; for there was enough before for the making an honest man, and I approve without exception of all that you have observed concerning it, un­less it be that which you said of pleasing, and that it was an infallible proof of ho­nesty. It seems to me, that people very often succeed in that, as well by ill ways as by good, nay▪ and with more choice and splendour. To that, said the Cheva­lier, one may answer in two words, that there are some persons who understand true Merit, and that it is a good sign when one pleaseth them : But there are many more who judge not well, and for those we have no great cause to rejoyce when [Page 131] we are so agreeable to them.

Howsoever it be, said the Mareshal, to examine honesty well, whether we consider it in it self, or in those things that it says and that it doth, it still appears to be above every thing else, and there is nothing so worthy of a great Prince. It is true, said the Chevalier, that it is amiable, and that it inspires respect, although it be forced to be silent and unactive; but you have hit upon the two things which give lustre, the speaking and the actions, all depend upon that, and it was that (says Homer) which the Learned Chiron taught to young A­chilles.

That Master, said the Mareshal, without doubt had great skill, he made a Scholar that the World hath talked of : and if that we see so few of so high and extraordi­nary a Worth, it must needs be the fault of the Governors. As he ended these words, he saw Gamesters come in, who came to divert him, and that put an end to the Conversation.

THE SIXTH CONVERSATION.

THE Chevalier came to the Mare­shals house, who had passed the Af­ternoon at play. He came just as the Game was ended, and the Gamesters were retiring. The Mareshal, who had a mind to go abroad, was glad to see him come so opportunely to have him with him. I will not ask you, said he, whether you are for walking; for I know very well you love to look upon the different colours which are in the Sky, when the Sun sets, and that it is a pleasure to you to breathe the fresh Air in the Evening. I am only in doubt of which side we should go. That Wood where we were the other day would please me much; but we must cross the Town to go to it, and the way is very rough. I doubt besides, whether we shall have time enough. I suppose, said the Chevalier, that it will be best to go the [Page 133] lower way along by the Water-side: which advice was followed, and they went on that side as far as to the end of the Meadow, where they stopt (because they could not go further with the Coach) and alighted to walk by the River side.

The Mareshal loved not to be long si­lent, and it happened luckily for him, and for those who frequent him, who were al­ways glad to hear him. He had been so imployed at play, that he had scarce said any thing all the day. He began at the first to speak of some things which he had most a mind to, and after some discourse upon that Subject: We must not, said he, look upon Kings with the same eyes as we do upon private persons, the most part where­of have little other aim than to live con­tentedly and at ease, though a man of abi­lity doth always study most how to pur­chase love and esteem.

I know very well what false glory is (a worthy honest man regards it not, and the wisest despise it) but it seems to me, that the more Courage and Wit a man hath, the more he loves true Honour: and if there where any one who could not ac­quire that, although he hath all other [Page 134] things to be wished, he would neverthe­less be much to be pitied, at least if he were of a generous noble Nature; and if you observe it, people are less willing to pardon those injuries, which touch upon their Honour than any other. And when they find themselves touched on that side, they think they cannot enough resent it. Also to say the truth, that which makes▪ people so much desire great Imployments and high Commands, is not for the conve­niencies of life; for our lives are made by them the more troublesom, but it is the hopes of having an opportunity to make it appear, that they have Merit in them.

But this nevertheless for a private per­son cannot extend it self far, nor be but of short continuance. But Kings are looked upon by all the Earth, and Posterity which never flatters any body, will be Judge of their Merit. Glory is their greatest and their chiefest Interest. All the Heroes and all the great Men have devoted and given themselves up to it. One had need be a­ble, faithful, and zealous to give them good counsel, in this particular, and prin­cipally they ought well to understand in what true Glory consists, and by what [Page 135] means it may be acquired.

It is said, that Parmenio (that great Ca­ptain, whose only aim was to vanquish) counselled his Master to surprize the Ene­my, because of their great number, and to assault them by the favour of the night. But this Prince (who made it not so much his aim to gain the Battel, as to make his Valour be admired) would fight them in the day time, being resolved to lose all, both his Life and Fortune, rather than to run the hazard of having cause to blush at his Vi­ctory. The same man counselled him also to divide Asia with the Persians, and to re­ceive great Treasures, which they propo­sed to him. This advice he received no better than the other; he had a heart too Imperious to suffer any one to be equal with him, and too high to love Gold and Riches. His desire tended only to glory, and if he did not always know what was the best and most solid, it was because he was yery young, and that he saw himself at the top of Fortune. Besides, he grasped at so many things, that he could not well have a due regard to every thing that he undertook, and he was also easily trans­ported.

[Page 136] The smallest errours that Princes com­mit, are sometimes of great consequence to their reputation; and I should advise them (if they would trust my Judgment) to consider often in what manner the greatest Men would carry themselves, if they had their parts to act.

It is no ill way to advise a Prince to do that which is most honest, and likewise most heroick. We have seen already, that it is that which befits him best; and if we look further into things concerning this World, we still find in all manner of re­spects, that this at last is the best. Both Heaven and Fortune seem to have a parti­cular care of these great hearts who are ne­gligent and resign up themselves. The bravest for the most part prevail, and an high resolution hath been the saving of many more people than it hath lost. The more this Prince, whom I was speaking of, sought after death, the further it was from him; and if he were wounded (as it is al­most impossible for any one to throw him­self continually into danger, and never to be so) it was at least without being ever killed or overcome.

However it is not to be wished, that a [Page 137] Prince should hazard himself so much, or that he should only know that way to glo­ry; for (besides that it would put us in continual Alarms for so precious a life) it appears to me below a great Prince, to ex­pose himself on all occasions : and if you well consider it, it is not that which most shews the greatness of ones Soul, and the contempt of death. I think it much better to march towards death with a steddy pace, like Socrates, than to precipitate ones self upon it, like Alexander; for this is to effect a very difficult thing very easily, which shews a heart to be more firm and resolute.

There are some Soveraigns, who we can look on only but as wise Politicians, and that in my mind is not the best form that they might appear in. Something which I cannot express, of more noble, would give them a greater splendour, and can you think any thing more worthy of a great Prince than Love and Arms? They are the Subject of the finest Romances, answer­ed the Chevalier, and when a Reign is at an end without either Love or Arms, a History has but a few things to say. But some Princes are not born to act both parts, [Page 138] and it is always enough for a Soveraign to govern his States well, and to render his Subjects happy.

I have known some Princes, said the Mareshal, who would have been very gal­lant men, if there had been care taken at the first, to have put them into the right way, and to have shewed them what was to be done. This first point of Education is of much greater importance to them than private persons; for when they are no lon­ger under the Conduct of a Governour, all that they do is approved on, or at least it is so in appearance, and no body comes in­to their presence, but with a design to please them, because although one loves them, yet one easily inclines to love their favour more: And in truth it would be great imprudence for any one to hazard the drawing the hatred of his Prince upon himself, and to go about to advise him as he would one of his particular Friends, un­less he had first signified his pleasure to have it so. However those persons who are near about him, if they are not too much swayed by Interest, may very secure­ly tell him in an agreeable manner, all that which may contribute to his Glory and to [Page 139] his Happiness. It is an easie matter, said the Chevalier, to give them good advice as to their glory. It is agreed what that is, and how it may be acquired; all those who know how to judge will concur. But it is not so as to ones happiness, which de­pends more upon the temper than upon those things which people believe give it. And to say the truth, whosoever under­takes to ascertain a Prince what will make him happy, must know him very perfectly. Many times we our selves know not what would be best for our own happiness.

You speak reason, said the Mareshal, but when all things that can be wished present themselves, and that there is nothing want­ing but to chuse well, it seems to me, that with a very little help, it were no difficult thing to be happy. And to say the truth, he is in a fair way to it, who sees himself one of the first among the Masters of the World. Fortune hath nothing greater to give. Let us consider what pleasure it is to do good: There is nothing in my mind more noble, and this delight seems to me to be made only for great Princes; the more favour they bestow, the more they are in a condition to grant: For it is cer­tain, [Page 140] that their gifts, which are accompa­nied with choice and esteem, support their Grandeur, and render them the more pow­erful. It is not riches that are principally to be desired from Kings (for their Trea­suries might be exhausted by profuseness) but it is Imployments and Trusts, these are the opportunities, by which men make it appear what they are; and when those persons who have Worth, are put into Im­ployments suitable to themselves, they make themselves known, and their Princes are well served.

That which commonly they want, and which we have abundantly, is the pleasures which you know we have in conversing freely with those we love, and the being in a condition to dispute of certain advan­tages, in which neither Fortune nor Great­ness have any part. The price of Merit, which touches so much many brave hearts, at length becomes insensible to them, be­cause people praise indifferently all that they do alike, without regarding either measure or decency. One must be com­placent, as becomes a gallant man, to make his life agreeable; and I cannot conceive that those Princes of the Levant, who live [Page 141] only amongst Slaves, can be happy. They have all things, and perfectly enjoy no­thing; they have the fairest Women in the World, but they are Captives, always in prison, without wit or love : they have nothing of that which is most taking, no­thing of freedom, nothing that is pleasant and delightful.

The Commerce of Love and the diver­sities of gallant Adventures, which make one delight in the Courts of the World, and to endeavour to render ones self an accomplisht man, all this is unknown to them. They are only savage Events which they delight in. I am thinking of that which you said just now; there are always in those Countries some Adventures of Love and of War, but they are such, that I defie Ariosto, Tasso, and even Sapho, to make a pleasant Romance of them. If li­ving so be happiness, that felicity seems to me very barbarous, and I cannot believe, that any man of good sense can envy it. The greatest pleasures, if people know not how to manage them, and that there be not wit intermixt with them, or some sense of Honour, last not long, and that may be some comfort to those who have not all that they desire.

[Page 142] I look upon it, that these Princes de­base rather than exalt themselves, in affe­cting such a Grandeur, which no body hath any thoughts of disputing with them. I think that Civility and Majesty both to­gether, which makes people find with plea­sure, that such Princes are their Masters, is much better; the more they condescend, the more one is ready to submit, especial­ly those that are well bred persons, who never presume too much.

I think that the most eminent men were wont to communicate freely with their Friends, and that they were very familiar, at least Cæsar was so, said the Chevalier, even with his Souldiers, so far as he took delight, to remember in any of their re­markable sayings, this familiarity. Which to say the truth, accompanied with other kindnesses, had charmed them so, that when they were to fight for his Glory, they thought nothing difficult to them, and were not apprehensive either of peril or death. If by chance they were made Pri­soners, and had their lives offered them, they refused it, and said, that it belonged to the Souldiers of Cæsar to give, not to take Quarter.

[Page 143] I wonder not then at all, said the Mare­shal, that such a man followed by such peo­ple, although the smaller number did al­ways conquer : That which I said, that Heaven takes these great hearts into its protection, it appears also in this Hero, who amidst all those Combates, in which he was very active, received not the least hurt.

Princes of great Designs and high En­terprises, said the Chevalier, are always beloved; although Fortune, which we know is inconstant, leaves their side, yet Glory & Honour never forsake them. Cæsar was of this number, he had nothing in him which was not noble, and which savoured not of Grandeur. He was so brave, and so full of curtesie both together, that he would have hazarded his person to have saved the meanest of his Souldiers. He lo­ved all those that followed his Fortune. He shared with them the glory, as he did the danger. And it was without doubt the surest way to gain, as he did, fifty Battels, without losing one, first to gain their love and esteem.

A few days before that great fight, wherein the Almans and the people of the [Page 144] North were defeated, he had sent Ambas­sadours to their Prince Ariovistus, who contrary to the Law of Nations detained them, and put them in Chains. Cæsar said that he was not more glad of gaining the Victory, than he was to embrace them, and knock off their Fetters. But this that I am about to tell you, shews much of his nature, and to what degree he was belo­ved.

Curio, who was one of his Generals, was making War in another corner of the World. He was a young Man of a great Courage, but of little Experience, and had to deal with the Africans, who were grown old in the Trade. This young Man being fallen into an Ambuscade, and finding it was in his power to save himself; but that he had not had prudence or good for­tune enough to secure the Troops which Cæsar had committed to his trust, he chose rather to dye than to present himself be­fore him. Every word that Cæsar said of his Friend, seemed to be accompanied with sighs and tears. Neither was it the fear of an ill reception or usage, which made Cu­rio take so desperate a course; but it was a certain apprehension which makes us fear [Page 145] the sight of our Friends, when they are of so high a Merit, and that we are sensible they have no reason to approve of our actions.

We are apt to lessen peoples Merit, according as we love or hate the per­sons (said the Mareshal) and Cæsar un­derstood very well how to make him­self be loved. I remember the Borders of Lignon, where I delighted my self so much when I was young, and the an­swer of the Oracle,

This is a very sure way, at least if it be performed handsomly. For it is not enough to devote ones self to gain people: the principal Secret consists in managing it so, that the person whom one loves, should be glad of it. The manner of doing it, which seems not to be so considera­ble, imports more than all the rest, and I see that the craftiest are taken with it as well as the simplest; but I hardly remember where I lest off.

[Page 146] You need not take much care for that, said the Chevalier, for you ne­ver leave a Subject, but those who have heard you are very well satis­fied with that which you have said. Besides, a little of negligence is very convenient, (could one live easie with people who are so very exact and re­gular) but I think you were speak­ing of Cæsar, and I was thinking, I remember, that the most eloquent man of those times told him one day, that he had done more than con­quered his Enemies, for he had van­quished Victory her self. And that he had set himself above her, in par­doning all those who had a mind to ruine him. This commendation which was so justly due to him, gives me a great Idæa of him; but there is one thing of him, which angers me much, that is, his calling of us Bar­barians. I am not the only per­son that suffers this injury with impa­tience: it hath so dissatisfied one of our Romance-makers, that without any difficulty, he writ that Cæsar was [Page 147] no Courtier. Upon my faith I am glad of it, said the Mareshal, and it was but what he deserved; for what made him use our Ancestors so ill?

However, said the Chevalier, this reproach which hath made you laugh, is not so ill grounded, that it may not be maintained, and without ex­amining what it is to be a Chevalier in that manner that we understand it. People are always more so at the Court of a Prince, than in a Repub­lick. Also it seems to me, that the Manners of Cities, and their ways of doing things are not noble; you know that the great World cannot suffer them. That which savours of the Country-savageness may be noble, al­though far different from the Noble­ness of Courts. That is because there is to be discerned I know not what of Worth and Greatness, plain and with­out Art. Imagine to your self those thick dark Forests of Africa, the infinite number of Lyons, and many other wild Beasts, all this appears to me [Page 148] more noble than the Gardens of the Grand Signor.

That which you were saying but now interrupted the Mareshal, makes me call to mind, that it is not enough when one speaks, or when one takes a Journey, to know to what place one would go, nor to take the right way to it; but one must think how to make the Journey as pleasant and easie to us as we can.

To return to Cæsar, people held that he was the greatest Man in the World, and I believe, if we consider him every way, there is reason for it, as well for the Wonders of his Life and Fortune, as for the Great­ness of his Wit and Vertue. Is it not he who so long time since gave the example and invention of all those extraordinary things, that are at this day practised in War? Might we not be able to know yet little better what kind of man he was; for they speak differently of him.

It is very difficult, answered the Chevalier, to judge rightly of those [Page 149] whom we have not seen, and who have lived in an Age so remote. But if it were possible to discover and un­fold a man so far back, and truly ex­amine him, certainly it must be Cæsar. He hath done so many things, and his life (though full of variety) is so e­qual, that there is seen some corre­spondence in all his actions, and like­wise the causes of it may easily be discovered. It may also be said, that crafty people had observed him, who talked very boldly and freely of him to one another. One of the clearest sighted men of those times (but one perhaps also, who was unreasonably fond of the Laws of his Town and Country) said, that never any man better understood Justice, nor had been more unjust than Cæsar. This shews on the one side, that he had a good discernment of things, but as to the rest, he slighted those common Vertues.

That which makes me know so much of his Spirit, and his Actions, is the Writings which he hath left (at least [Page 150] if it be his own) for there is a very Learned man who would perswade me, that it was not his. Whose then, said the Mareshal? Of a certain, I know not who, answered the Chevalier. I believe for all that, it had been more easie for this certain I know not, who to have conquered and rendred him­self Master, than to have written in that noble Style. You know that in matter of Conquest, happy Conjun­ctions may help very much: 'twas ne­cessary to be Cæsar to express ones self in that manner, and chance hath nothing to do in it. His Merit and his Greatness is seen in the smallest things that he says, not that he speaks in Pompeys words, on the contrary. His way is plain, without Ornament; but hath in it a pureness and nobleness, not easily expressed, which proceeds from a good Education, and from the height of his Genius.

These Masters of the World who are, as it were above Fortune, look with indifferency upon the most of those things, which we admire, and [Page 151] because they are but little affected with them, they speak but slightly of them. In a place where he was re­lating how two or three of his Legions were for some time in disorder, fight­ing against those of Pompeys; People believed, said he, that there would have been an end of Cæsar, if Pompey had known how to overcome, that Victory had decided the Roman Empire. You see in how few and plain words he expresses a thing of so great conse­quence.

Cæsar was born with too violent passions, Glory and Love, which car­ried him away like two Torrents. Those infinite numbers of Designs which he had laid from his infancy even to the end of his life, (for he was of a very active Spirit) tended only to them. Not but that he had other sentiments, which you know make people desire the society of men, and take delight in their Com­pany. For to be an accomplisht man, as Cæsar was, one must take part in all things that may render ones life [Page 152] happy. But these two passions trans­ported him, he was not very sen­sibly touched or concerned at any thing, but only so far as it might be of advantage for his main Designs, the ends before-mentioned; and al­though he had been so famous in the Wars, he loved it not so much for it self, as that he might thereby seat him­self above all.

He was liberal and acknowledg­ing, fierce, but not revengeful, and as to that great injustice, which peo­ple blame him for, and lay as a stain upon so fair a life, it may be said in two words, that he who was of all the Romans fittest to govern, had a mind alone to do that well which so many others did ill.

He was tall, of a reasonable shape, handsom, of a good Meen, dexterous in all Exercises of Arms, and a good Horse-man. He had a fair Comple­xion, and smooth, black Eyes, quick and cunning. He had a strong and piercing Voice, and a great Grace in speaking. He was of a delicate Com­plexion, [Page 153] as the most part of those are who are of that kind of Wit and Temper. It is said, that he gained health by neglecting it; and that he used so much Exercise, that he ren­dred himself by it indefatigable.

He had Mistresses in all parts where he came, at Rome, in Spain, in Greece, and amongst the Gauls. He was as it were enchanted in Egypt; for what was it he undertook not for the Prin­cess of that Country? And further up in Africa, was he not again in Love with a Black-a-more Queen? His aim was at Ladies of the highest Quality: I know not whether it were because that the Behaviour of men added more grace to their natural Beauty, or that a sense of Glory joyned with Love, made him look upon Ladies as a kind of Conquest. He affected a little, perhaps, too much to be talked of; but I do not pretend to represent him as a man without failings; for who is it that can boast himself to be without any? but I speak of him as an admira­ble Conqueror, and of immense natural parts.

[Page 154] In the most hazardous and hottest Actions of the Wars, he alone was the joy and hopes of his Army. They all believed him so able and so reso­lute, that they despaired of nothing under his Conduct; and with that he had a certain gayety, which sparkled in his eyes, and on his face, which animated them on all occasions. And if they were at any time in doubt con­cerning the event of things, it was only their care for him; for few cared for surviving him themselves.

He loved fine Cloaths, and his rich Dress made him always to be known, and principally on a day of Battel. He would have his Souldiers to be neatly attired, and always ready : and in my mind it is a great sign that those sort of people have honours in them, when they love to have a good Equipage▪ and to be very curious and neat in their Arms. He regarded not whether his men were of great stature or no. That, said the Mareshal, depends upon fancy: there are many who are not very pro­mising, yet who make themselves to be [Page 155] taken notice of enough. This great man was never mistaken in any thing; and I admire that he was a Prodigy both in Wit and Valour.

I should not be surprised at an ex­traordinary Valour in a Brute, all persons who know neither pleasure nor pain, and who are not sensible what it is to be dead or alive. But for a man of so sensible a temper, and so delicate, and of so subtil and high Understanding, that it is in truth which seems rare to me. It is indeed, said the Chevalier; but for all that we must only wonder at the greatness of his Wit. For although one may find ones self very sensible of pain, and cannot make it easie to our selves to dye, yet when one hath a courage firm and resolute to a certain degree, and that is no hard matter to have, one may be as brave as one hath a mind to be; one may manage ones life or abandon it as one judges best, and as occasion requires. There needs but an ordinary firmness to make one resolve indifferently either way, [Page 156] and Cæsar had always Glory before him, which made him chuse that which was most becoming a Hero. I had not considered nor examined him in this way, said the Mareshal, and I be­lieve that you are in the right.

They were till night by the River side, sometimes sitting, sometimes walk­ing, and always discoursing of many things; but Historians never relate all.