САМЕО XXIV. Birth of Louis XIV. 1638. the Board of Excise at Clermont, at nine years old, improvised a little poem, which was much admired. Jacqueline and her brother Blaise were indeed children of extraordinary abilities. It was about this time that the boy was found lying on the garret floor, tracing mathematical figures with chalk, and working out the facts as to their relations without having ever seen Euclid's Elements, or knowing the proper names of lines and circles, but calling them bars and rounds. He had, however, had some instruction in the first elements of mathematics. On the 5th of September, 1638, was born Louis the prince, who like Philippe Auguste of old, was welcomed as Dieudonné. The Cardinal, about the same time, lost his most trusted friend and adviser Père Joseph. So much influence had Joseph possessed, that he was called "Son Eminence Grise," as Richelieu was "Son Eminence Rouge." He was sharp and brusque in manner, while the Cardinal, with the dignified politeness of a French noble, had a terrible irony, which was greatly dreaded. But they agreed and worked together perfectly, and Joseph was the person chiefly loved and trusted in the world by the Cardinal, who visited his friend constantly, tended him during his illness, and bewailed him with the exclamation, "I have lost my right hand." The Nuncio, Giulio Mazarini, was induced to quit the Pope's service, and became Richelieu's chief assistant, becoming thoroughly imbued with his policy of aggrandizing France and rendering the Crown despotic. Meantime Richelieu thought it time to detach the King from Marie de Hautefort, whom he knew to be his enemy, and who was not to be bought over, as she was resolved on asking no favours for herself, nor any one belonging to her. The King seemed pleased with a youth of nineteen, the Marquis de Cinq Mars, the eldest son of Marshal d'Effien, and Richelieu asked him to consent to Mdlle. de Hautefort's leaving the Court for a fortnight. "The fortnight will last my life,” she said, and she was right. Orders came that she was to remain in exile at Mans, and she never saw the King again. She was always much respected ; she was one of the foremost ladies in the literary court held at the Hotel de Rambouillet, and was also one of the favoured dames who boarded at times at Port Royal, and were intimate with the saintly Mère Angélique. She finally married Marshal Schomberg. The Hotel de Rambouillet was a remarkable feature in Paris at this period. Charles d'Argennes, Duke de Rambouillet, was a rich and fairly influential nobleman of the class who had grown up to replace the older race, and had married Catherine de Vivonne, one of the ablest and handsomest women of her day, and likewise one of the best. She was for many years the undoubted queen of society at Paris. Her house, the Hotel de Rambouillet, in the Rue St. Thomas du Louvre, was the resort of all that was most distinguished in France. She had the true Frenchwoman's art of keeping all harmonious, interested and amused, and she also had a certain Italian grace inherited from her mother, which gave a chivalrous and poetical air to all around her, while she had the skill and taste to steer clear of all such political affairs as could give umbrage even to the jealous Richelieu. For twenty or thirty years, nothing was admired which had not received the stamp of approval of the divine Arthenice, as her circle called her, transposing the letters of her Christian name. Her daughter, Julie d'Argennes, shared her power, and was equally beautiful, graceful, and intellectual. Julie remained unmarried much later than was usual. Her hand was sought by the Duke of Montausier, to whom she was much attached, but he was a Huguenot, and she would not wed outside her Church, while he held it dishonourable to renounce his religion except from conviction, so he remained a constant visitor at the Hotel till Julie was past her first youth, when he finally felt that he could renounce Calvinism and obtain his bride. After her marriage, she still continued to be the most brilliant ornament of "the Salon Bleu," as her mother's chief reception room was called. Mother and daughter made a worthy use of their supremacy. They were religious and conscientious women, though not what was technically called "dévote," and they set themselves by the influence of their taste and good breeding to no less a task than to purify French manners, language, and literature. Coarseness had hitherto gone along with wit and poetry. François I., Catherine de Medici, and Henri IV, had all revelled in grossness and evil allusion, and the wittiest works of their times-even when well-intentioned-are unreadable, while the conduct of men and women of the highest rank was rude, violent, and licentious. The Spanish dignity of Anne of Austria, and the cold reserve of the King, had made the Court more correct; but it was at the Hotel de Rambouillet that the visitors learnt the grand, graceful politeness that became the characteristic of high French society, and so continued long after the real principle that lay beneath the manners of Hotel de Rambouillet had died away. The impure and immoral were banished, and when poetry and plays were read aloud in the Salon Bleu, a vigilant censorship was kept up, and so delicately exercised that there was no revolt against it. Words were rejected, not merely for impropriety but for inelegance and provincialism. They were debated and criticised with both taste and erudition, though the judgment on them was sometimes narrow and exclusive, weakening the language in power of expression, but also refining it, and the French of the Hotel de Rambouillet remained that of all educated people until the present half-century. Men of letters were made as welcome as the nobility. Corneille recited his tragedies there; Voiture was the tame poet of the house; Madame de Scudéry brought fragments of her interminable romances; and here a young Abbé, Benigne Bossuet, was called on, from the college of Navarre, half in jest, to display his powers of extemporisation. A velvet bag was carried round the assembly by Voiture. Every one put in a text. The young preacher drew one out at haphazard. It was "Vanitas vanitatum." The midnight sermon was a solemn one, and sent away the gay assembly thrilled with awe. САМЕО XXIV. The Salon CAMEO The French Literature was rapidly improving, and the period was beginning to which the new-born Dauphin was destined to give the title "Le Siecle de Louis Quatorze." The "Académie Française," the institution which has ever since been the supreme authority in its own country in matters of taste, science, and literature, was starting into existence. The poet Ronsard and a party of friends began by forming a kind of club, called at first the Pleiad," then the " Brigade," which met weekly at the house of one of them, Courart, in the Rue St. Martin, to discuss any subject of interest, or talk over new books, or works in which either was engaged. M. de Bois Robert, who was half spy, half newsmonger to the Cardinal, discovered these meetings and requested admittance. It spoilt their freedom, but to open their doors to him was the only way of proving that they were more concerned with the politics of ancient Athens than of modern France, and they made themselves so agreeable that Bois Robert reported of them enthusiastically to his master, who asked if they could not form themselves into a regular body for the encouragement of " belles-lettres," to be incorporated by Royal Charter. They did not like the proposition at all, for it would destroy all the spirit and liberty of their easy intercourse, and were much inclined to refuse, but M. Chapelain declared that they had to deal with a man "qui ne voulait pas médiocrément ce qu'il voulait," and since their society had become an avowed matter, they had no choice but to submit, or to suffer for it. So they consented, and expressed themselves highly gratified when the Cardinal announced that he meant to be the father and protector of the society. It took the title of Académie, in honour of the Academy, or open-air debating school of Athens, but the Parliament would not, at first, register the royal letters patent for it. The fact was, that everything new was distrusted, and especially what emanated from the Cardinal. A person about to purchase a house in the same street, broke off his bargain because he was afraid of the Monopoleurs, the word then in vogue for conspirators. At length, in 1637, the charter of the Academy was forced through the Parliament, and its council consisted of forty members. They immediately commenced a dictionary of the French language, which continued to be the great standard work until the license of the present day has not only imported new words, but changed the idioms. Ever since this time, to be crowned by the Academy has been the supreme honour of a French work, to become a member the greatest glory of an author. The Augustan age of literature was dawning-not yet developed. Only the first of the great dramatists had as yet come forward, Pierre Corneille, and his first really able and characteristic tragedy, the Cid, though rapturously applauded by the public, was condemned by the Academy under strong pressure from the Cardinal, who was displeased at Spanish chivalry having been brought forward. He had actually produced a tragedy himself, but all the awe he inspired could not make the public endure it. "Ah," he said, "I always knew that the French had no taste." However, Corneille continued to receive a pension, and the Cardinal, finding public opinion too strong for him or the Academy, allowed the Cid to be dedicated to his favourite niece, the Duchess of Aiguillon. Afterwards Corneille wrote a tragedy called Polyeucte, founded on a legend of primitive Christian martyrdom, and read it at the Hotel Rambouillet, where the religious were delighted, but some of the ecclesiastics present deemed that a scene where idols were overthown savoured of Protestantism, and the idlers thought the piece too Christian ! In general, however, the world believed itself religious, and there was no doubt, much genuine earnestness. Vincent de Paul was in full activity, and had stirred the clergy into far greater spirituality than had been their ideal since the days of St. Bernard; seminaries for their training had been founded, retreats and missions set on foot, the Sœurs de Charité had begun their work, the Order of the Visitation attracted the ladies weary of Court intrigue, and Port Royal offered a graver and severer form of Christian life. CAMEO Corneille CAMEO XXV. Charles's first visit to Scotland. 1633. KING CHARLES, though born in Scotland, had not set foot in the The daily service after the English use was carried on in Holyrood Chapel, and did not excite so many open murmurs as when James I. had last been in Scotland, whence the King argued that there was more hope of introducing the Prayer-book throughout the country. He did not hear the comments of the people of Edinburgh, who held that the rochet and surplice smelt of Popery. The years of peace and of traffic with England had enriched Scotland, and the nobles and gentlemen who flocked to pay their court to the King were handsomely equipped, often to an extent they could hardly afford. The coronation was the most magnificent ever seen in Scotland, where indeed a full-grown monarch had not been crowned since the return of the first James Stuart. It took place in the Abbey Church of Holyrood, with the same ceremonies as at Westminster, and as far as possible the same decorations, Archbishop Spottiswoode officiated, with three other Bishops in white rochets and sleeves, and copes of gold and blue, such as English Bishops always wore at coronations. The other Bishops merely wore black gowns, and Laud indignantly thrust aside the Archbishop of Glasgow from the King's left hand, saying, "Are you a Churchman, and want the coat of your order?" It was the misfortune of Laud, that being only a tradesman's son, he had none of that gentle breeding which makes courtesy second nature, |