CURIOSITY to see a man equally famous for his crimes and his elevation, had once before induced the Chevalier de Grammont to visit England. Reasons of state assume great privileges: whatever appears advantageous is lawful; and every thing that is necessary is honourable in politics. While the king of England sought the protection of Spain in the Low Countries, and that of the States-general in Holland, other powers sent splendid embassies to Cromwell.

This man, whose ambition had opened him a way to sovereign power by the greatest crimes, maintained himself in it by accomplishments which seemed to render him worthy of it by their lustre. The nation, of all Europe the least submissive, patiently bore a yoke which did not even leave her the shadow of that liberty of which she is so jealous; and Cromwell, master of the commonwealth, under the title of Protector, feared at home, but yet more dreaded abroad, was at his highest pitch of glory when he was seen by the Chevalier de Grammont; but the Chevalier did not see any appearance of a court. One part of the nobility proscribed, the other removed from employments; an affectation of purity of manners, instead of the luxury which the pomp of courts displays, all taken together, presented nothing but sad and serious objects in the finest city in the world; and therefore the Chevalier acquired nothing by this voyage, but the idea of some merit in a profligate man, and the admiration of some concealed beauties he had found means to discover.

Affairs wore quite a different appearance at his second voy

appeared in all parts: the nation, fond of change and novelty, tasted the pleasure of a natural government, and seemed to breathe again after a long oppression. In short, the same people, who, by a solemn abjuration, had excluded even the posterity of their lawful sovereign, exhausted themselves in festivals and rejoicings for his return.35

The Chevalier de Grammont arrived about two years after the restoration: the reception he met with in this court soon made him forget the other; and the engagements he in the end contracted in England, lessened the regret he had in leaving France.

This was a desirable retreat for an exile of his disposition: every thing flattered his taste; and if the adventures he had in this country were not the most considerable, they were at least the most agreeable of his life. But before we relate them, it will not be improper to give some account of the English court, as it was at that period.

The necessity of affairs had exposed Charles II. from his earliest youth, to the toils and perils of a bloody war: the fate of the king, his father, had left him for inheritance nothing but his misfortunes and disgraces: they overtook him everywhere; but it was not until he had struggled with his ill-fortune to the last extremity, that he submitted to the decrees of Providence.

All those who were either great on account of their birth or their loyalty, had followed him into exile; and all the young persons of the greatest distinction, having afterwards joined him, composed a court worthy of a better fate.

Plenty and prosperity, which are thought to tend only to corrupt manners, found nothing to spoil in an indigent and wandering court. Necessity, on the contrary, which produces a thousand advantages whether we will or no, served them

an cuation gory, politeness, and virtue.

With this little court, in such high esteem for merit, the king of England returned two years prior to the period we mention, to ascend a throne, which to all appearances he was to fill as worthily as the most glorious of his predecessors. The magnificence displayed on this occasion was renewed at his coronation.36 The death of the Duke of Gloucester,37 and of the Princess Royal,38 which followed soon after, had interrupted the course of this splendour, by a tedious mourning, which they quitted at last to prepare for the reception of the Infanta of Portugal.39

It was in the height of the rejoicings they were making for this new queen, in all the splendour of a brilliant court, that the Chevalier de Grammont arrived to contribute to its magnificence and diversions.

Accustomed as he was to the grandeur of the court of France, he was surprised at the politeness and splendour of the court of England. The king was inferior to none either in shape or air; 40 his wit was pleasant; his disposition easy and affable; his soul, susceptible of opposite impressions, was compassionate to the unhappy, inflexible to the wicked, and tender even to excess; he shewed great abilities in urgent affairs, but was incapable of application to any that were not so: his heart was often the dupe, but oftener the slave, of his engagements.

The character of the Duke of York 41 was entirely different: he had the reputation of undaunted courage, an inviolable attachment for his word, great economy in his affairs, hauteur, application, arrogance, each in their turn: a scrupulous observer of the rules of duty and the laws of justice; he was accounted a faithful friend, and an implacable enemy.

His morality and justice, struggling for some time with

wife Miss Hyde,42 maid of honour to the Princess Royal, whom he had secretly married in Holland. Her father, from that time prime minister of England, supported by this new interest, soon rose to the head of affairs, and had almost ruined them: not that he wanted capacity, but he was too selfsufficient.

The Duke of Ormond 44 possessed the confidence and esteem of his master: the greatness of his services, the splendour of his merit and his birth, and the fortune he had abandoned in adhering to the fate of his prince, rendered him worthy of it: nor durst the courtiers even murmur at seeing him grand steward of the household, first lord of the bedchamber, and lord lieutenant of Ireland. He exactly resembled the Marshal de Grammont, in the turn of his wit and the nobleness of his manners, and like him was the honour of his master's court.

The Duke of Buckingham and the Earl of St. Albans 45 were the same in England as they appeared in France: the one, full of wit and vivacity, dissipated, without splendour, an immense estate upon which he had just entered: 46 the other, a man of no great genius, had raised himself a considerable fortune from nothing, and by losing at play, and keeping a great table, made it appear greater than it was.

Sir George Berkley,47 afterwards Earl of Falmouth, was the confidant and favourite of the king: he commanded the Duke of York's regiment of guards, and governed the duke himself. He had nothing very remarkable either in his wit, or his person; but his sentiments were worthy of the fortune which awaited him, when, on the very point of his elevation, he was killed at sea. Never did disinterestedness so perfectly characterize the greatness of the soul: he had no views but what tended to the glory of his master: his credit was never

avours on merit: so polished in conversation, that the greater is power, the greater was his humility; and so sincere in ll his proceedings, that he would never have been taken for courtier.

The Duke of Ormond's sons and his nephews had been in he king's court during his exile, and were far from diminishng its lustre after his return. The Earl of Arran 48 had a ingular address in all kinds of exercises, played well at tennis nd on the guitar, and was pretty successful in gallantry. His elder brother, the Earl of Ossory,49 was not so lively, but f the most liberal sentiments, and of great probity.

The elder of the Hamiltons,50 their cousin, was the man who f all the court dressed best: he was well made in his person, nd possessed those happy talents which lead to fortune, and rocure success in love: he was a most assiduous courtier, ad the most lively wit, the most polished manners, and the nost punctual attention to his master imaginable: no person anced better, nor was any one a more general lover: a merit f some account in a court entirely devoted to love and galuntry. It is not at all surprising, that with these qualities e succeeded my Lord Falmouth in the king's favour; but it very extraordinary that he should have experienced the me destiny, as if this sort of war had been declared against erit only, and as if this sort of combat was fatal to none ut such as had certain hopes of a splendid fortune. This, owever, did not happen till some years afterwards.

The beau Sidney,51 less dangerous than he appeared to be, ad not sufficient vivacity to support the impression which is figure made; but little Jermyn was on all sides successful his intrigues. The old Earl of Saint Albans, his uncle, had or a long time adopted him, though the youngest of all his ephews. It is well known what a table the good man kept