145 [=147]

[145]

[Lett. xlii. Letters Historical and Galant.]

place had brought there. But as these Ladies did not come to see or be seen, they soon quitted the grand Alley, and
look'd out for a retired place. They soon found the Alley of Sighs, and seating themselves on a green bank, said all
that the most tender Friendship can inspire in two persons of Wit and Delicacy, that had been a long time without
seeing each other. The Countess, told my Lady ** News about her family, and observing it made her begin to
melt, tryed to persuade her to return to London. "Is it possible, says she that your friends here can take up all
your tenderness, and that you can forget those you left at London! Is it possible that you should not to be eager to see
a husband you so dearly loved, and who, I can safely swear, however he behaves, loves you still tenderly! Ought
you not to leave affairs of State and cases of Conscience to him? is it womens Business to decide those things!
Women, that are forbid to speak in publick, that are removed from Sciences and Employments, and who, according
to Moliere should know nothing but how to sow, spin and love their husbands. This is what I hold: I am per-
suaded that the husband is the head of the wife, and that she is to let her self be conducted by the head: so much the
worse for him if he guides us wrong; he will pay for us both. We are made to obey, and obedience in us is better than
Sacrifice. If you had reasoned on this principle, you had stayed, where you were, or waited quietly till heaven should
decide the fate of the Father and the Son in Law, without interesting your self as you have done in their Quarrel.
You speak the best in the world, my dear Countess, replyed My Lady **; yet if you examine my conduct, per
haps you will have a greater subject for Comparison than Censure. You know that in my Infancy I was sent to the Royal
Abbey of Montbuisson, where I was brought up in the Catholick Religion, which my Parents forced me to abjure when they
brought me to London to espouse the Chevalier *** who professes the English Religion, to which I never could be
reconciled, tho' I have endeavoured it: The tenderness I had for my spouse obliged me to dissemble my Sentiments;
I even did all I could to stifle them: I struck in with the Beaumonde: I attach'd my self to the Court. You know, Madam
I was so happy as to succeed in that Country; My husband's fortune encreased, and I had enough to satisfy my am
bition; Yet tho' I had enough to be happy, I was not the more content. The Regret I had for forsaking a Religion, which
I took to be the best, disturbed all my happiness. When I wa seiz'd with the least little Qualm, methought I saw Hell
open under my feet. In short, Remorse prevailed so much, that I believed I ought to sacrifice the pleasures of my Life
to the Repose of my Conscience. And God knows how many tears this sacrifice cost me; he also knows this to be the sole
motive of my flight. I might have reasoned upon false Principles, but I am sure my Intentions were good. The Gos-
pel taught me to pluck out an Eye, or cut off an arm, sooner than to let that Eye or Arm been obstacle to Salvation;
and this, I thought, obliged me to sparate from a husband whose tenderness might undo me: for, in short, whatever
you may say, when one is led by a blind man, he cannot avoid falling with him into the precipice. This, my dear Coun
tess has made me chuse to do what you condemn, but I believed to be the best. If it be true, that Crosses and Afflictions
are marks of a good Road, I have all the reason in the world to applaud my Choice; for I have met with all sorts of
them since I came into this Country; and I can say, that the quieting my Conscience has raised trouble enough in my hear."

"Ah, my Dear, says the Countess, take care that all those Crosses you congratulate your self upon, be not the Chastise
ments of Heaven, willing by this means to call you home, and make you return to your Duty; For, to give one touch
more, the Duty of a Wife is to be always attch'd to her husband; and St. Paul is expressly for it when he says, What
knowest thou, O Wife, whether thou shalt save thy husband? This alone should have engaged you to stay with him, and
that the more, as you will be answerable for the Sins he has been forced to commit in your absence, from which your pre-
sence would have secure him." "Oh! for God's sake, interrupted my Lady, don't charge me with his Sins; I have
enough of my own. Your Moral makes me tremble; but after all, I have infinite Examples to authorize what I have
done. Several at St. Germain's are in the same case with me; and England swarms with French men, who out
of a motive of Religion have abandoned their husbands, and followed litterally that passage in the Gospel, which says
that whosoever loveth Father, Mother, Husband, Wife or Children more than him, is not worhty of him."
"You quote a passage, replyed the Countess, which is terribly abused in those days, and has nothing to do with
our subject; since we are not upon the Subject of renouncing Jesus Christ: in which case, I agree we ought to forsake
every thing. The Catholicks and Protestants adore the same God, and would adore him together still, if the Policy of
great men had not authorized the Disorders, which disputes caused in the Church. Believe me, Religion has always
been a pretense made use of by great men to hide their Ambition. Hence the Inferior sort become their dupes:
and this is so true, that when the fury of the League had almost depopulated France, the Guisards would
have turned Protestants, if the Bourbonists had turned Papists. This every one knows; and that the heads of
the party fomented the Divisions which arose every day in the Church, in order to keep up their particular Quarrels, making