THE ROCKS, Sunday, February 26, 1690.
I could not have believed that I should have wept so much for La Chau;
but it is impossible to read your account of his poor wife’s unfeigned
and violent affliction without being affected to tears. This is,
indeed, a peculiar misfortune, and a fate which nothing could prevent.
The man is in haste, he wants to get to his journey’s end; he is
advised, for very weighty reasons, not to expose himself, or, at least,
not to go into the little boat; but he will listen to no one, he must
go, he must be punctual to his appointment; Death is waiting for him at
a particular spot upon the Rhône; he must meet him there, and perish.
Good heavens, my dear child, how all this is arranged! Every one sees
his own fate in this accident, and his wife’s grief becomes ours; as
we are exposed to similar perils, it is our own interest that makes
us weep, when we suppose we are lamenting the misfortunes of others.
Christianity dictates to us that we should think first of this poor
man’s salvation; but his wife afterward claims our pity for the loss
of 4000 livres; if the dead body should not float, or the violence of
the Rhône should throw it beyond Arles upon some unfrequented shore,
Providence will dispose of this gold, sewed up in his wet coat, as of
the rest.
I highly approve the resolution of not sending for the marquis,
this is the surest way; the journey would be both expensive and
fatiguing, and productive of no good but the mere gratification of
your affection; bear this like many other things, and rather wait till
he is a brigadier or major-general, than make him lose his time now.
Beaulieu informs me, that he is quite overwhelmed with business, and
that he attends to nothing else. Is it possible, that he should have
visited Madame de la Fayette before Madame de Vins? I blame him; I am
as jealous upon this occasion as you are, for I frequently put myself
in your place; every reason should have induced him to have flown to
Madame de Vins; she wrote to me the other day that she longed to see
him, and to observe the difference and transition from infancy to
youth. He has waited upon Madame de Lavardin, and will have time to pay
her another visit.
M. de Grignan has resolved upon a very precipitate journey; it is
difficult to avoid such courses, when we command singly in a province,
whether for the service of the king, or the honor of the post. You
never examine thoroughly into this business, except for M. de Grignan;
this is natural enough; but the example should extend further. _No
enemies_, my dear child; let this be your maxim, it is equally
Christian and politic: I not only say _no enemies_, but also _many
friends_; you have felt the good effects of these in your law-suit;
you have a son; you may stand in need of those who you may now think
can never be of service to you. We are deceived; see how Madame de la
Fayette abounds with friends on every side, and of all ranks. She has a
hundred arms, and they all serve her; her children feel it, and thank
her daily for her courteous disposition; an obligation which she owes
to M. de la Rochefoucault, and of which her family reaps the benefit. I
am certain that you have been of this opinion for many years.
You explain Madame Reinié’s conduct very well; it is droll to think of
her leaving Paris, her husband, all her business, to fly for three or
four months _all over_ Provence asking for money, without getting any,
fatiguing herself, returning after being at great expense, and getting
the rheumatism into the bargain! for recollect that she has pains _all
over_ her; and such as at length have defeated you.
I am delighted at Paulina’s partiality to M. Nicole; it is a proof
that she reads him with attention; this taste gives me the highest
opinion of her understanding; I also like her anger that the bishops
do not fight for promotion. But, my dear, on your honor do you believe
it right to give us only the first volume of the romance of the
_Princess_, the _Infanta_, or the _First Minister_, so charming as
we thought it?[262] I will not allow you to stop here; I insist upon
knowing what is become of the princess’s good and just resolution? I
am afraid it has vanished, by the necessity of the times, the want of
a _minister_, the sudden journey, the impossibility of collecting _the
leaves of the Sibyl_, idly and incautiously scattered to the winds for
ten years. In short, I fear your good intentions will come to nothing,
as I have so often found during the last twenty years: this story,
however, requires a continuation, but it should not be too serious
with regard to your affairs. I wish also to be informed of the success
of M. Prat’s journey to the enraged lover of the Princess _Truelle_.
I should like to know who were the confidants of the _first minister_
and _the favorite_; and who received the couriers. Tell me if you are
still satisfied with _Flame_;[263] he is a very considerable personage
in your household. I want to know some particulars respecting the
count’s journey, and if the treasurer will do as he wishes: here are
a number of questions, my dearest child, for which I apologize. It is
kind of you to love my letters; when you receive three at a time you
say you are rich; but what fatigues do they not occasion you! They are
so very long that you should not answer them minutely. Adieu, my love;
how does Lent agree with you? for my part I like it extremely. I took a
mess of milk-coffee this morning: I am not yet surfeited with it, nor
with sermons, for we read none but those of M. le Tourneux and St. John
Chrysostom. It is delightful weather, the winter is past, and we have a
prospect of spring that is superior to spring itself.
[262] This was an account, in the form of a romance, of what
passed in M. de Grignan’s family.
[263] M. de Grignan’s house-steward.
N.B. This letter is the last from the mother to the daughter.