If I had not heard from my aunt that you were going to Holland, I
should have been quite surprised at getting your letter from the
Hague. My health is now pretty good; as usual, I have driven away
the fever by hunting. I have had the satisfaction to do some service
to the prisoners who have been brought here. I cannot do much, but I
shall spare no pains to be useful to compatriots who may need me.
I remember the Hague perfectly; I always thought it a very agreeable
city, but the air is not as good as it is in the Palatinate and
everything is so very dear in Holland. King William is not at Loo, but
at the head of his army; God grant there may not be a battle, for I
can't help trembling at the thought of it because of my son. The fate
of those good people of the Palatinate makes me wretched; but I can do
nothing to prevent it. Let us all unite in prayers for peace, for it
is indeed very needful.
It is deplorable that the priests have brought it about that
Christians are divided one against another. If I had my way, the three
Christian religions should form but one; we should not ask what people
believed, but whether they lived in accordance with the Gospel, and
the priests should preach against those who lead bad lives. Christians
ought to be allowed to marry and go to church where they like; and
then there would be more harmony than there is now.
I think so well of King William that I would rather have him for
a son-in-law than the Emperor of Germany. I can say with truth of
my daughter that she has no idea of coquetry or gallantry; in that
respect she gives me no anxiety, and I think I shall never have
anything to fear; she is not handsome, but she has a pretty figure,
a good face, and good feelings. I am convinced that she will stay an
old maid, for, according to all appearance, King William will marry
the Princess of Denmark. I fancy that the emperor will take the second
Princess of Savoie, and the Duc de Lorraine the daughter of the
emperor, so that no one will be left for my daughter.
I don't know if you remember how gay I was in my youth; all that has
gone; I have been more than six weeks without laughing even once. The
theatre is what amuses me the most. If you knew all that goes on here
you would certainly not be surprised that I am no longer gay. Another
in my place would have been dead of grief this long while; as for me,
I only grow fat upon it.
[Illustration: Saint-Cloud]