have a beginning. The Times itself was once an incipient scribbler; while the only difference now between us is, that it scribbles by the day and we by the month. We are each of us, too, labouring in our vocation; the Times to work mischief, we to work good; the Times to duck, fawn, and slander, by turns, as each may happen to be at a premium; we to walk our course straightforward and erect; the Times to jostle Cobbett out of the prize for no-principle; we to contend for the prize of public approbation; the Times to bluster, we to laugh and go on chastising it; the Times to awe timid fools with its mock" thunder," we to play with the "Thunderer" himself, as unconcerned as a kitten playing at a game of romps with a mouse. POETICAL HYSTERICS. A SCENE FROM REAL LIFE. Miss M. A. B―e. Miss L. E. L-n. Mr. B-e. SCENE. A drawing-room. In the centre, a rose-wood table, upon which are lying several Literary Gazettes, containing notices of the Improvisatrice, a poem; the Lost Pleiad, a poem; the Venetian Bracelet, a poem; others containing the poems of the First and Last Flower, the First and Last Captive, &c. &c. The room crowded to suffocation by above a dozen ladies and gentlemen. Doodlah's Dry Nurse sitting in a pensive attitude, by the side of Doodlah, listening to her while she is talking blank verse to a lovely poodle, which looks in her face with evident delight and astonishment. At the further end of the room Noodlah has just taken her seat by the side of a Lady, known as the authoress of an Ode to a Blue-bottle, beginning "Oh thou beauty! how thou buzzest!" her father having conducted her there that "kindred spirits might be known to each other." Mr. Oxford (approaching Noodlah, and bowing). Let me address thee in the language of our immortal bard: At first and last, the hearty welcome! I have a word in season, too, for thee (to the lady who wrote the Ode to a Blue-bottle), from that witty wight Dan Prior: Say, sire of insects, mighty Sol, [The lady, who takes this for a sneer, and is moreover piqued at the compliment paid to Noodlah, replies promptly from Revela tions: "That old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world."] Mr. Oxford. Thou art as caustic as Doodlah. Noodlah. Doodlah! dost thou know Doodlah? Oh that I could once see her and hear her, that I might worship her! Mr. Oxford. Wouldst thou like to be introduced to Doodlah? Noodlah. I would give half my existence ! Mr. Oxford. There she sits. (Pointing to Doodlah, who has turned her conversation from the poodle to her Dry Nurse.) Noodlah (starting up and rushing across the room). Do I then breathe the same air as Doodlah. Do I behold her? Can that be the surprising she? Oh, Doodlah! (Noodlah falls at the feet of Doodlah, kisses her knees, and goes into hysterics. Doodlah's Dry Nurse weeps, and wipes his spectacles.) Doodlah (surveying the prostrate Noodlah). Aye, 'tis ever thus! Woman's fond heart must have an object A flower, a dry nurse, or a poodle. From my mellifluous lips have warbled Doodlah! Noodlah-Noodlah! I honour thee! LIFE OF THE DUKE OF SULLY. A KING that is the slave of his mistress is sure to become the dupe of his weakness. Those sweet and sacred feelings which a real affection inspires is never felt in these liaisons. The atmosphere of a court is too gross. Love cannot live amidst the throng of passions which royal favouritism engenders. The restless workings of ambition-of pride -of self-interest-in the lady-elect, are too potent for the purer affections to cope with, and they accordingly soon retire and leave the field free to dissimulation and intrigue. Henry the Fourth could have put his seal to this truth-as might every other monarch. Sully had no sooner left Sillery sole arbiter, than his services were called for in an affair of far greater moment. He was despatched to Paris to inquire into a conspiracy that was found to be carrying on against the throne, and plotting a revolution in the government. The Marchioness of Verneuil, had never got over the bitter feelings of mortification and disappointment occasioned by the marriage of Henry with Mary of Medicis, while the ink was scarcely dry which had written the promise of marriage, on the ultimate fulfilment of which she had fully relied. Hating the queen with a perfect hatred, she had associated herself with her father, the Count d'Entragues, the countess her mother, her uterine brother the Count d'Auvergne, in a confederacy against the person and government of the king. Sully had obtained accurate information of all that was going forward. The Count d'Auvergne was discovered to be in close connexion with the king of Spain, and a treaty had been secretly concluded between them, by which the king bound himself to assist the count with troops and money, to enable him to place Henry, his sister's son by Henry the Fourth on the throne, and who in the treaty was styled Dauphin of France, and lawful heir to the kingdom.* Sully was commissioned by the king to wait on the Marchioness of Verneuil, and to hear what she had to say as to the crime of which she stood accused, and he accordingly repaired to her resi dence-she had no doubt previously prepared herself for this visit-" I found," says he, 66 a woman whose humiliation had abated nothing of her pride, and who far from submitting to ask pardon, or to excuse herself, talked as if she were the party who had suffered wrong." She even proposed the conditions upon which she would consent to retire, which were, that the king should settle upon her an estate in lands of at least a hundred thousand franes. This absence of all fear as to the result of her trial, which was soon to commence, and the high tone which she assumed throughout, would seem to arise, either from an intrepid disdain of her accusers, or from a consciousness of her innocence. It arose from neither. Henry had privately assured her that in any event, she should receive a pardon. In fact to save her from the disgrace of being put upon her trial, as well as to avoid so partial an exercise of the royal clemency in the face of the queen, had Amelot de Heressaye, (who is the more worthy of credit as the Count d'Auvergne, and the marchioness his sister intrusted the original treaty with his grandfather, Eugene Chevellard,postmaster-general, and their intimate friend,) informs us that Chevellard being involved in the disgrace of the Count d'Auvergne, was arrested and committed to the Bastile, but he kept this treaty so well concealed in the skirts of his coat, that no one discovered it. Finding that he was to be tried as a state criminal, and fearing the evidence that was about his person, he contrived to eat up both the treaty and the ratification of it by the court of Spain, swallowing parts of it from time to time in the soups and other victuals that were brought to his table. The count had so much dependance on the fidelity of Chevellard, that when examined on his trial he said with the utmost confidence, "Gentlemen, produce but a single line of my writing to prove that I ever entered into any treaty with the king of Spain, or with his ambassador, and I will instantly write the sentence of my death under it, and condemn myself to be quartered alive."—Notes sur les Lettres du Cardinal D'Ossat. she been found guilty, several months, as previously concerted, being permitted to elapse without the attorney-general finding any evidence against her, she was by the king's order declared innocent of the crime of which she was accused.* Her father and brother were condemned to be beheaded, but this punishment was afterwards changed into perpetual imprisonment. The countess, her mother, was conducted under a strong guard to the abbey of Beaumont near Tours, and with this religious sisterhood she passed the remainder of her days. So strong was the hold which the marchioness had on the mind of the king, that after all her treasonable practices had been made fully manifest, still the ardour of his affection for her, though cooled, was not extinguished. She was recalled to court, and would probably have regained all her former ascendancy, had not Henry become enamoured of the Princess de Condé, which put an end to her influence.t It was impossible for Henry not to perceive that the affairs of the government were suffering essentially under the various interruptions which his personal concerns had occasioned, and he therefore began, in concert with his minister, to resume the inspection of the finances, and to decide on the means which it would be necessary to adopt towards recruiting the public treasury, without imposing fresh burdens on the people. Conceiving it his duty to notify publicly his intention on this head, as likewise to explain its necessity, he assembled a council extraordinary, composed of the deputies from the supreme courts of Paris, the chief members of the council, and of the heads of the administration of justice, the revenue, and the police. When the members of the council were assembled, the king took his seat, and in a clear, plain-spoken address represented to them that the civil wars had so much reduced the revenues of the kingdom, that the annual receipt was barely sufficient to meet the annual expenditure. That it had become, therefore, necessary to resort to the best means for improving the different sources of income. That not only ought the inquiries and prosecutions to be continued, which had already produced so much benefit to the state as considerably to diminish the public debt, but that new funds should be created to provide for emergencies, such as the event of a foreign war,or other unforeseen occasions of expense. That the nation was then at peace, and that a state of peace was the proper time to make such improvements as it would be difficult if not impossible to carry into effect in a time of trouble-that the means necessary for this purpose were, the extinction of such revenue grants as had been obtained on various pretences-the reimbursement of offices--and the resumption of crown lands unadvisedly alienated. Such was the substance of Henry's speech to his council extraordinary. His majesty, however, took but little by his motion. This senate in its wisdom, did not fail to furnish arguments in abundance against the proposed plan of reformation. The king was guided by motives of conscience and duty, but it is not easy to inoculate these principles on any council extraordinary, nor indeed on any political assembly of any kind. The following are Sully's re Henry the son of the marchioness by Henry IV., was afterwards created Duke of Verneuil, and died without children in 1682. This imperious woman appears to have resented the Count d'Auvergne's conduct in the confederacy as betraying a lamentable want of secrecy and prudence. It was under the influence of this conviction that she is reported to have said, while the state prosecution was pending, that all she asked of the king was— "A pardon for her father, a halter for her brother, and justice for herself."—Vide Dictionnaire Universel, Historique, &c. Tit. Verneuil. Mademoiselle d'Entragues, Marchioness of Verneuil, was the daughter of Francis d'Entragues, governor of Orleans, and Mary Touchet who had been a mistress of Charles IX. According to the president Henault, she had been goaded into the conspiracy against Henry by her confessor, a Capuchin monk. The marchioness had persuaded her spiritual guide that she would never have surrendered herself to the desires of the king but in consideration of the solemn promise of marriage which he had given her, and the holy man conceived that her future salvation depended on her making Henry fulfil the pledge he had thus given. She died in 1663, at the age of 54 years. Vide Mémoires de Sully, vol. iii. p. 497. marks upon the present occasion: "It appears to me that councils of this description are not to be condemned even when they tend merely to keep up a form in other respects useless enough, since they serve to notify in a manner somewhat less absolute, to the persons appointed to act in the government, the will of the prince, already decided upon in a more private consultation. The present assembly did not escape this reproach, and the object which Henry proposed before them, although useful, praiseworthy, and urgently called for, was not on these accounts the more approved. I know not what the advocates of popular authority may say to this, but for my own part, it appears to me from this and a variety of other instances, that the views of a good and wise prince ought not on all occasions, and in every conjuncture, to be the same with that of his people. The considerations which govern the people, are almost always influenced by some particular interest or passion, and seldom, if ever, do they look beyond the moment. Even the most reasonable among them, misled by their own individual interest, are each employed-although they will not acknowledge and perhaps do not perceive it-in forwarding their own views regardless of the consequences."* This intelligent prime minister appears here to have been misled by that fallacy in reasoning so usual with men in power, and which consists in transferring the reproach of ignorance and selfishness from themselves to the people, and thence arguing that their will ought to be disregarded, and their opinion to go for nought. They assume that all that there is of wisdom in the community is concentrated in the government of which they form a part, and that there is no clear judgment or pure disinterestedness but in their trustworthy selves. Those already in high office under the crown, and those who are looking up to its favour-the sinecurists in possession, and the placemen in expectancy-those who divide all the power and enjoy all the emoluments of the state these are the persons, and these alone, who are endowed with adequate information, on all questions of public interest, and whose rectitude of intention ought never to be challenged. The rest of the nation cannot judge of what they want, and are besides this, weak, corruptible, incompetent, and unfit to be trusted. The rulers of the state are always guided by enlarged and liberal views-while the people at large are almost always influenced by some particular interest or passion, and seldom, if ever, look beyond the moment. It follows, of course, from this account of the matter, that the people have, at no time, any thing to fear from injustice, impolicy, or oppression on the part of the government. Their only duty is to be grateful to the government for its care in not suffering them to injure, mislead, or oppress themselves. So manifest does all this seem, that could even the animal world be made to reason they would no doubt readily be brought to acknowledge its justice, and the horse, careless of his liberty, and forgetful of the whip of his rider, would be truly thankful for the care with which he fitted the bit, and the security with which he strapped on the harness. Henry, perceiving the backwardness of the members of his council to facilitate his schemes for regenerating the finances, applied himself to Sully, upon whose advice he could always govern himself with safety, and upon whose cooperation he could at all times depend. This faithful minister drew up a concise and specific statement of the abuses by which the revenue was most injured, at the same time suggesting the appropriate remedy. Under this system, such official agents as had misapplied the money they had received, and passed them in their accounts as handed in to the Exchequer, although not a penny of it had found its way there, were to be called to account. The embezzlements practised by receivers-general and the agents concerned in the management of the finances, were to be investigated, and the defalcations recovered. The abuses in the alienation of the crown lands were to be developed, and the alienations resumed. The corruption which prevailed in the different public offices and employments was to be checked, and, as far as possible, removed, and the persons in possession compelled * Mémoires, vol. iii. p. 499. to pay up their arrears, and all useless offices were to be suppressed. These, and certain other measures of reform, it was calculated would, if skilfully and prudently proceeded in, bring into the king's coffers in no long space of time, a sum of two hundred millions of livres or about one million sterling. Had Sully told us nothing as to what became of these earnest endeavours to serve the public, there is hardly any reader who could not readily have filled up the blank. There is, however, no occasion for conjecture. He informs us of the issue. "The inquiries, says he, which I had proposed to institute against delinquencies in the revenue and public offices, were afterwards carried into effect by the erection of a Chamber of Justice; but as undue influence and intercession could not be prevented, no real good was produced, and the usual result ensued: the chief criminals escaped, and the minor offenders suffered all the severity of the law." Sully, however, congratulates himself, and with reason, as having produced at least one good effect, which was, that the eyes of the public were opened; a light had been thrown into those recesses of corruption where all had hitherto been concealment and darkness, and abuses began to be treated with less reverence."Those unlawful gains," says he, "by which France had been so much impoverished, and the managers of the revenue so much enriched, were treated, without ceremony, as so much robbery and pillage, and Honesty began to raise her head in a sanctuary where she had never been seen before."* Sully likewise turned his attention, at this time, to the improvement of commerce; and, among other things, planned a canal for joining the Seine to the Loire, which projected canal was far advanced; but after three hundred thousand crowns had been expended upon it, it was discontinued, owing to the malicious opposition of his enemies in the government. According to Mezerai, it was a change in the ministry which put a stop to its progress. But this does not Mémoires, v. iii. p. 508. vary the cause, it merely points out the mode of its operation, and shows that they were alike jealous of his reputation when they came into power, as when they were out of it.† The coin of various nations being at this time current in France, Sully issued a prohibition against the circulation, within the kingdom, of all foreign coin except that of Spain. He resolved, at the same time, to rid France not only of foreign money but of foreign manufactures: he issued an edict forbidding their importation, and more especially of stuffs wrought with gold and silver. It must not be imputed as a fault to Sully that he was not skilled in the science of political economy; a science till very lately but ill-understood, even with the accumulated experience of two centuries. This great minister no doubt did most unwisely to tamper thus with the circulating medium, and the evil which he brought upon commerce, and the embarrassment which he occasioned to the trading part of the community, by this interference, was very considerable. The sudden disappearance of the foreign money could not fail to perplex all the operations of commerce. It is indeed difficult to conceive by what train of reasoning a minister of such superior good sense could have been brought to enforce a measure so impolitic. It should seem obvious to the slightest reflection that the rate at which the foreign coins were received in the market, would be apportioned to their metallic value, and that so long as they passed with facility, they were just as useful in commerce as if they had been struck in the national mint; and that thus to withdraw a currency that had long effectually served all the purposes of exchange, and which was applicable to every purpose for which a money circulation is at all required, must materially influence the price of all merchandise, must affect all payments, and by producing a sudden scarcity of money, be productive of great injury to individuals, and great loss to the state. Equally ill-judged was it to prohibit + This great work was resumed and completed in a subsequent reign; and the historian, De Thou, bestows great praise on the Duke of Sully as having been the original pro jector. VOL. II. Н |