náme, to retain his tottering position; his outer court bristling with soldiers, and, in the stables, steeds caparisoned both night and day, and ever ready for immediate flight, when peril became imminent.

Other enemies had his Eminence, more illustrious even than the Coadjutor. On the spot where now stands the lofty column in the interior of the Place Vendôme, dwelt the family of that name, descendants of Henry IV., by Gabrielle, Duchess of Beaufort. The eldest scion of this noble house, presuming, perhaps, on his personal attractions, had ventured unguardedly to make advances to the royal widow—been, in consequence, repulsed and humiliated— and was now the bitter enemy of the cardinal, and shared with the Coadjutor the favour of the mob. While De Retz could exhort from the pulpit, and thunder in the court of the parliament, Beaufort had equal facility in haranguing at the corners of streets and in the public places. Gifted with the form of Hercules, personal courage, and the air and mien of a prince, how great was the surprise of the listening spectator to hear him talk in the peculiar language of the fish-markets of Paris--tone, gesture, and phraseology, the echo, to the very life, of his usual audience in the markets! Whence or how the descendant of the great Henry acquired this talent, if talent it can be called, is unknown; it seemed natural to him; his language was but slightly more polished in the cabinet and saloon. The original rudeness of speech, on which had been so easily engrafted the rhetorical graces of the Parisian slang, would have been a lamentable deficiency if his life had been solely that of a courtier; but, fortunately, for the political position of the duke, wounded pride made him a malcontent in politics, and his vocabulary gave him unlimited sway over the hearts of that immense swarm of artisans, butchers, fish and herb-women, and others of both sexes, of more ferocious and uncertain callings, which Paris then and ever vomits forth in times of national distress and commotion.

Let us now turn to the opposite bank of the Seine, to the Faubourg St. Germain, studded with the hotels of the noblesse. Noblest among these, far removed from the river, rises the Luxembourg Palace, where dwells moodily the uncle of the king, Gaston of France, Duke of Orleans, still angry with his deceased brother that he was not appointed regent during the minority; still more angry with himself, that, being possessed of clear-sightedness, sagacity, and eloquence, he should be so destitute of firmness and courage, at the most critical moments of his career, as to be ever the tool of others, and almost despised by the Italian cardinal.

But to make amends to the faction for the irresolute Orleans, chance had given them a leader, so illustrious in genius and station, as to create a regret that his destiny should ever have led him to be allied to a party actuated by sordid and interested views that his career should not ever have been heading a mighty nation in war or in peace. The Prince of Condé, at the age of twenty-two, in an engagement in which were fairly pitted the chivalry of both nations, had so entirely broken down and dispersed the veteran forces of Spain, that they never recovered the shock of that disastrous day. Subsequent victories had confirmed the reputation of the prince as being the greatest warrior of modern times; nor were his other qualities unequal to his military genius. But he had failings, the chief of which was an infirmity of temper. Accustomed in war to overthrow every obstacle by discovering at a glance the enemy's weak point, and by the rapidity of his own combinations to bear on it, he could ill brook the impediments thrown in his way by courtly finesse. Was he, the laurelled conqueror of Rocroy, Lens, and Nordlingen, to meet with evasive answers from the Italian when asking for some post or pension for himself or his officers ? Where was the secret obstacle if the minister were willing, (for Mazarin dared not openly say nay,) and his royal mistress graciously inclined? Who was the competitor of Condé?

These delays in granting the prince's demands were artfully taken advantage of by the leaders of the faction, and, by adroit insinuations, Condé was induced to believe that the minister had no inten tion of complying with his wishes. It was on such occasions, where a more moderate man would have smothered resentment, and calmly waited the turn of events to bring the Italian within his power, that the great warrior indulged in expressions of ribaldry, in which neither queen nor minister were spared. And as the prince, when moved, was not deficient of wit and sarcasm, and could throw off an extempore couplet or epigram, well-pointed and stinging, against the Palais Royal, these little darts so offended the queen, that the cardinal, who had no wish to make an enemy, and sought only to manage the prince, was obliged to declare against him; and so Condé became the prize of the faction.

Leaving the prince and his neighbour and cousin of Orleans, to discuss their mutual hatred of the policy of the Palais Royal, let us direct attention to the large masses composing the middling and lower classes of Paris, now suffering from scarcity of provisions and want of employment; severest sufferers in the quarrels of their superiors.

Look towards the old palace of Dagobert and Hugh Capet, but a short distance from Notre Dame. What a huge assemblage of towers and pointed roofs, the work of successive ages; its origin lost in the night of time! There is the seat of justice-there is daily assembled the parliament, debating how to be rid of Mazarin without losing their respect for the reyal authority; precedents must be sought for to show that rebellion is not rebellion, for the innovations of lawyers must be by rule and practice. There is much clamour within, created by the adherents of the faction urging their pacific brethren to more violent measures; and there is still greater clamour without, from the mobs of Beaufort and the Coadjutor, continually crying out, "Down with the tyrant! Let the king reign alone!"

Looking across the Seine, the Hôtel de Ville may be distinctly seen, the public square in front filled with groups of citizens, better clad and more orderly than the populace infesting the avenues of the parliament. These are rentiers, shopkeepers, and substantial burgesses, their movements indicating impatience and anxiety, yet without the ferocity of the other classes; they have nothing to hope for, and everything to fear, in the continuance of a civil war. They are bitter enemies to Mazarin, but love the king; and, too humble to expect places and pensions by any revolution in affairs, are removed from the temptation to cabal and form factions. The hardiest of this class aim at stirring the parliament to petition the queen-regent for a remission of imposts, and a fairer system of taxation. Look which way we may within the walls, there is distrust and fear; the rival parties are cooped up within such narrow space, that the peril of an outbreak is dreaded by both. Beyond the confines of the city may be seen, from the summit of the old tower, the windings of the Seine, flowing onward by the forest of St. Germains, where the royal army les encamped; whilst on the south, and in possession of Charenton, are the regiments of guards attached to the persons of Condé and Orleans, awaiting the signals of their commanders, and, in imitation of the army at St. Germains, levying a heavy toll on the provisions passing onward to the capital.

CHAPTER II.

Faites choix d'un héros propre à m'intéresser,

En valeur éclatante, en vertu magnifique;

Qu'en lui, jusqu'aux défauts, tout se montre héroïque.

DESPREAUX.

WE now spirit away the reader from the pinnacles of Notre Dame, to the consideration of a humbler scene. As he may have remarked, there was no quarter of the city exclusively occupied by the aristocratic portion of the community, and as a consequence of this absence of concentration, the mansion of the grand seigneur of territorial and titular rank was often neighboured by the dwellings of the bourgeois, the mechanic, and mine host of the third and fourth rate tavern. It is to one of the last-named class of houses, in the Rue St. Antoine, leading eastward from the Hôtel de Ville, that we must conduct our reader. It is a lofty, narrow-fronted building, drooping with age; its upper stories seemingly dragged forward beyond the perpendicular by the weight of an enormous projecting sign-board, exhibiting the effigy of a yellow angel. Age had caused dilapidation in the once stout frame-work of the sign; and though our host constantly averred that he lived under the protection of the Golden Angel, he might very appropriately be said to live under the more precarious tenure of the Angel of Destruction, for it threatened every passer-by with martyrdom when the wind swept along the once joyous and bustling, but now sorrowful Ru St. Antoine.

For more than three months, enduring the constantly-increasing privations to which the city was subjected, had Henri St. Maur slept in this humble, though auspiciously-named, auberge. A follower of fortune, no golden showers had fallen on him, except in dreams, when-perhaps to compensate for worldly sorrows-the angel shed down benignant influence in happy slumbers. He was the only wreck of a bitter strife, in which he had seen the house of his fathers razed to the ground, the lands excoriated with the torch of exterminating warfare, and the peasantry driven to the several frontiers to fill up the broken ranks of the armies of Picardy and Catalonia. In the late reign, the father had taken part with the gallant Montmorenci against the powerful Richelieu, and had shared the fate of all that prelate's enemies; and now the son, powerless, and without pecuniary resources, having availed him

self of the permission accorded by the regent, Anne, to all the enemies of her late consort and his relentless minister, to approach the capital, was vainly endeavouring to obtain service under the martial Condé-for the prince's mother was a sister of Montmorenci, and he himself was now regarded as the representative of the family, and held bound by a sense of honour, having its source in feudal relations, to succour and befriend the partisans and kinsmen of his late uncle.

Nor was he unwilling to assume the task of upholding the remnant of the Montmorenci party. As chief of the faction seeking to unseat Mazarin, the prince was desirous of drawing to himself all the discontented and rebellious spirits of the capital. In the field, if affairs were driven to that extremity, he knew how to keep in order such gentry; and in the daily chamber of audience, where they thickly congregated, he could be rough or civil, as suited his humour;-none dare brook the fiery temper of the prince. He was well seconded in gathering and retaining recruits by his master of horse, Gourville, a man of inferior origin, but well adapted for state affairs, sagacious, industrious, and unscrupulous.

At these levees St. Maur was not an unwelcome guest; the eye of the prince beamed favourably on him, and Gourville took a fancy to the youth, though without any strong faith in his capacity or courage; his was the affection which the strong-minded and resolute often exhibit for those of softer mould. Pride is gratified in affording protection, and the master of the horse believed, and believed truly, that the youth stood in need of his aid.

Thus, in the eyes of the prince's followers, and to the envy of many, St. Maur and the hero of Rocroi appeared in the relation of dependant and patron; and doubtless the prince viewed the young man as his own in the troubles of the forthcoming crisis. But in this instance, the eagle glance of the warrior, and the subtlety of his sagacious councillor, did not penetrate far enough into the history of their follower.

'Tis true, he told his tale, and petitioned for the prince's interest to reverse the attainder on his father's possessions; or, failing this, a commission in the army of the Rhine, or that employed in Catalonia; and he was once bold enough to hint to Gourville, that he should not disgrace the prince's household. His solicitations were well received, as were those of many others less deserving. To the request for leave to signalize himself on the frontiers, he was met by the excuse, which was indeed a just one, that in consequence