the library of the Abbe Bignon, of which he had the care. It
is certain that he knew the value of the scarcest works, and was one of
those lovers of bibliography who trade at times in costly rarities. At
Vienna he became intimately acquainted with the poet Rousseau, and
Prince Eugene. The prince, however, who suspected the character of our
author, long avoided him. Lenglet insinuated himself into the favour of
the prince's librarian; and such was his bibliographical skill, that
this acquaintance ended in Prince Eugene laying aside his political
dread, and preferring the advice of Lenglet to his librarian's, to
enrich his magnificent library. When the motive of Lenglet's residence
at Vienna became more and more suspected, Rousseau was employed to
_watch_ him; and not yet having quarrelled with his brother spy, he
could only report that the Abbe Lenglet was every morning occupied in
working on his "Tablettes Chronologiques," a work not worthy of
alarming the government; that he spent his evenings at a violin-player's
married to a Frenchwoman, and returned home at eleven. As soon as our
historian had discovered that the poet was a brother spy and newsmonger
on the side of Prince Eugene, their reciprocal civilities cooled.
Lenglet now imagined that he owed his six months' retirement in the
citadel of Strasburgh to the secret officiousness of Rousseau: each grew
suspicious of the other's fidelity; and spies are like lovers, for their
mutual jealousies settled into the most inveterate hatred. One of the
most defamatory libels is Lenglet's intended dedication of his edition
of Marot to Rousseau, which being forced to suppress in Holland, by
order of the States-general; at Brussels, by the intervention of the
Duke of Aremberg; and by every means the friends of the unfortunate
Rousseau could contrive; was, however, many years afterwards at length
subjoined by Lenglet to the first volume of his work on Romances; where
an ordinary reader may wonder at its appearance unconnected with any
part of the work. In this dedication, or "Eloge Historique," he often
addresses "Mon cher Rousseau," but the irony is not delicate, and the
calumny is heavy. Rousseau lay too open to the unlicensed causticity of
his accuser. The poet was then expatriated from France for a false
accusation against Saurin, in attempting to fix on him those criminal
couplets, which so long disturbed the peace of the literary world in
France, and of which Rousseau was g