by the misery of a woman; that a devout Roman
Catholic should have taken a deep interest in the fate of a family
persecuted, as she conceived, solely for being Roman Catholics; or that
the pride of the widow of Scarron should have been intensely gratified
by the supplications of a daughter of Este and a Queen of England.
From mixed motives, probably, the wife of Lewis promised her powerful
protection to the wife of James.

Madame de Maintenon was just leaving Saint Germains when, on the brow of
the hill which overlooks the valley of the Seine, she met her husband,
who had come to ask after his guest. It was probable at this moment that
he was persuaded to form a resolution, of which neither he nor she by
whom he was governed foresaw the consequences. Before he announced that
resolution, however, he observed all the decent forms of deliberation. A
council was held that evening at Marli, and was attended by the princes
of the blood and by the ministers of state. The question was propounded,
whether, when God should take James the Second of England to himself,
France should recognise the Pretender as King James the Third?

The ministers were, one and all, against the recognition. Indeed, it
seems difficult to understand how any person who had any pretensions
to the name of statesman should have been of a different opinion. Torcy
took his stand on the ground that to recognise the Prince of Wales would
be to violate the Treaty of Ryswick. This was indeed an impregnable
position. By that treaty His Most Christian Majesty had bound himself
to do nothing which could, directly or indirectly, disturb the existing
order of things in England. And in what way, except by an actual
invasion, could he do more to disturb the existing order of things in
England than by solemnly declaring, in the face of the whole world, that
he did not consider that order of things as legitimate, that he regarded
the Bill of Rights and the Act of Settlement as nullities, and the King
in possession as an usurper? The recognition would then be a breach of
faith; and, even if all considerations of morality were set aside,
it was plain that it would, at that moment, be wise in the French
government to avoid every thing which could with plausibility be
represented as a breach of faith. The crisis was a very peculiar one.
The great diplomatic victory won by France in the preceding year had
excited the fear and hatred of her neighbours. Nevertheless there was,