Roman purple. At the Papal court the influence of Germany and the Italian States was direct and decisive, and the promotions they sought were attained in a manner, if not honest, at least straightforward. But by the French ecclesiastic occupying a secular position, the purple was only to be gained by trigue and artifice-promoting à miserable end by the most flagitious means.

The disorganization of the manners of the day was complete. The most debauched efforts of impure imagination could but rival the actual scenes which occurred at the revelries of the Duke of Orleans. The women of his court were worse than the men in excess of shamelessness. We have no wish to dwell further on stories which we cannot repeat, but which, nevertheless, make up great part of the memoirs before us.

At a distance from the towns, things were much better; but even there the vexatious privileges of the nobility and the government weighed heavily upon the industry of the peasantry:

"I shall never forget (says d'Argenson) the horror of the calamities. which were suffered in France when the Queen, Maria Leczinska, arrived in the country, Continual rains had ruined the harvest, and the famine was increased by the vile administration of the Duke of Bourbon. The crops of all kinds were lying about, and not a single moment of dry weather occurred of which the labourer could take advantage, Just then he was summoned from his toil to mend the roads for the queen. The horses for ten leagues round the route were laid under requisition for the occasion. They payed ill for them, and never fed them at all. The poor beasts were kept all night in the open air -they had no food for three days-no wonder that the greater part of them perished."

Such were the exactions to which the peasants were liable in the time of the most terrible famine. It is true that these exactions were confined to particular districts, and that the more remote parts of the country enjoyed a comparative freedom from oppression.

To illustrate more definitely the general views we have laid down, we will cite on each subject, from the works before us, some of the more striking scenes-many of them historical; but which, when collected together, present a more accurate picture of the times than is to be obtained from the histories, where foreign and extraneous matters prevent a clear view of the feelings of so strange a period.

Of the true state of religion in France we gather from the memoirs of the day but little information. The earnest spirit which breathes throughout the writings of many of the divines of the period, and the extreme respect and popularity which

these writings enjoyed, prove sufficiently that all feelings of sincerity and piety were not extinct among the people. But the national history of religion under the regency is a simple tissue of intrigues the most flagitious and meanness the most base. Faction, driven by terror from the palace, had taken refuge in the church. The Jansenists, considered for not very obvious reasons to represent the popular party, were supported by the multitude and the parliament. Louis XIV., partly for this reason and partly from superstitious terror, espoused the Jesuits to the extent of enforcing the Bull Unigenitus-a bull which, professing to be merely levelled at the errors of the Jansenists, distinctly asserted the supremacy of the tiara over the crown, and which treated the most venerated names of the Church with such coolness that the very leaders of the Jesuits themselves, in France, were at first terrified at its tone and opposed its promulgation. The regent, in his parliamentary days, attacked both the bull and the Jesuits. The court of Rome, in return, refused to sanction the nomination of any single bishop, of whatever party, till the whole kingdom had accepted the bull. The regent, entirely careless respecting the principles of the dispute, was irritated and perplexed; but the intrigues of those about him determined him at last to consult his quiet, and to enforce the bull, or the "Constitution," as it was called. The Roman purple conferred so many distinctions, secular and ecclesiastical, that the courtiers sacrificed everything to flatter a court whose smiles were so powerful.

The life of a cardinal about the French court was in those days, indeed, sufficiently agreeable. Nothing of the ecclesiastic appeared in his deportment: he reigned in his diocese without attending to its affairs: the proudest and fairest were at his feet: he gambled, he danced, he sang : the most sumptuous banquets were his ordinary fare: he gave balls and fetes with princely magnificence. The revenues he derived from the Church sufficed for every expense-the consideration he derived from the Church entitled him to every expectation that ambition could suggest. Such were the lives of the cardinals of Bouillon, of Boissy, of Rohan-the first a member of one of the highest families in France-the last a prince of the empire. What wonder if the courtiers of the least scrupulous court in Europe should not be over delicate in their means of attaining such a distinction ?

Of the singular characters which the Church of Rome sometimes carries in its bosom, one of the least respectable was the Abbé Dubois. Without birth or fortune-without even the affectation of regularity or decency-he had recommended him

self to the regent by habits of business, a cool head, great activity; and, above all, a certain similarity of manners and a strong liking increased by habitude. In spite of every remonstrance, the regent employed the abbé in every State affair, external and internal. The abbé was not satisfied: the arch

bishopric of Cambray fell vacant. The abbé told the regent next morning that he had dreamed he was made Archbishop of Cambray. The regent lost his gravity, and asked the abbé if he thought the place fit for the greatest scoundrel in France. The abbé thought it was very well fitted for him. The regent continued to laugh-the abbé had expected as much and was very little disconcerted.

Dubois sent over an emissary to George I. The king laughed in his turn the emissary told him that the regent would laugh, too, but that he would follow the recommendation. The head of the Anglican Church signed the testimonial, and Dubois was nominated. He was only tonsured at the time, and had to receive all the orders at once. People exclaimed at the scandal, but the abbé preserved his composure and cited St. Ambrose. The regent, on the strenuous advice of some of his council, at first promised to abstain from assisting at the consecration. One of his mistresses told him that his refusal to attend would ruin her, as the archbishop would be sure to attribute it to her influence. The prince broke his promise, and attended accordingly at a ceremony which was performed by Massillon himself.

The cardinalate was the next object of ambition to the greatest scoundrel in France: he made the enforcement of the bull a merit with the Papal court; and, on the death of Clement XI., obtained a promise from the Cardinal di Conti of the purple, if his influence should place the cardinal in the chair of St. Peter. Dubois performed his part, but Innocent XIII. hesitated: he was, at last, compelled to fulfil his engagement and died, it was said, of remorse.

The means whereby all this was carried-the rewards claimed by the inferior agents-the tone and tenor of the negotiations in general-show the deep degradation of Papal Christianity. Neither is this, though the most conspicuous, a rare example of similar corruption. The elevation of the Abbé Tencin to the purple was, perhaps, the most scandalous instance of the prostitution of the cardinalate. In domestic life the abbé was suspected of incest with his own sister: in public he was more than suspected of the most unprincipled practices. On one occasion he was indicted for simony: the prosecuting advocates held the most convincing proofs of his guilt in their hands, which they

kept back till they heard what the abbé had to say for himself. The abbé, finding the arguments brought against him not very strong, called heaven to witness his innocence, and appealed to the court with all the fervid eloquence of an injured and indignant Churchman. The court seemed well disposed to believe him; whereupon the opposing party produced their proofs-letters in the abbe's own hand, settling the terms of the bargain. The abbé had to sneak away amid the hootings of the crowd. But the abbé was a most accomplished and unscrupulous intriguer he knew how to render services to those who were able to repay him, and to manage delicate matters for those who would buy his silence; and the convicted perjurer and simonist died Cardinal de Tencin.

Speaking of the successive ecclesiastical governors of France, it was said that France was an invalid of which three doctors in red gowns had successively undertaken the cure: the first had bled her, the second physiced her, the third dieted her. Dubois, it seems, was not worthy to be admitted into the cardinal triumvirate of Richelieu, Mazarin, and Fleury.

The parliament of Paris, of all political bodies that ever existed, stood on a basis the most uncertain and ill-defined; for not only were its privileges as a political body disputed, but it was a matter of doubt if it could claim to be considered a political body at all. Notwithstanding this, as the only assembly in the kingdom exercising fixed and regular functions, its power was indirectly felt at all times, and served as an occasional means of forwarding the views both of the king and the populace; yet, throughout the whole of the parliamentary history, the peculiar aptitude of the French for social rather than political quarrels is exhibited in every stage. For fifty years a single question of etiquette was the grand subject of its debates and dissensions. The heterogeneous composition of the assembly, consisting of princes and peers on the one side-of judges and men of law on the other-would, in other countries, have caused divisions in questions of State: in France, the members contented themselves in disputing prerogatives of dress. It had ever been the custom when the president took the votes for that functionary to address the councillors, first, with his hat on; and it was only when he proceeded to call on the peers for their opinion that he uncovered his head. The lawyers were sadly annoyed at the distinction; and the presidents, lawyers themselves, most of all.

Towards the end of Louis XIV.'s reign, Novion, then first president, set about removing the grievance with a gravity of artifice truly amusing. He began by taking the vote of the first peer with his hat on-then grew bolder; and, as if forget

ful, kept his hat on till he had got half through the number. The peers, unaware that the most valuable of their privileges was in danger, took no notice, till the president, on one occasion, fairly remained covered while he took the votes of the whole ducal body, and only took his hat off when he came to the princes of the blood. One of the peers protested vehemently on the spot, and the whole body carried their complaints to the king, who was glad of an opportunity to humiliate the dukes, and left the affair undecided. The quarrel continued through the whole of the regency-one out of many trivialities which occupied the first attention of the parliament of Paris.

After the measures consequent on the death of the king had increased their consequence for a time, the parliament set up a new claim of etiquette against the regent himself. On the occasion of a procession at some festival, they declared that, as the first body in the kingdom, they could yield precedence only to the king; and, while they waived their privilege of actually walking before the regent, allowed him simply to take the left side, they themselves walking on the right. The regent, who hated processions and mummeries of all kinds, contented himself by refusing to walk at all; but the claim set up caused in the minds of the government the greatest apprehensions as to its ultimate effects.

More serious quarrels arose soon after; for the views of the old lawyers of Louis XIV. and the views of the regent Duke of Orleans were not likely to be very similar. The unexcitable members of the parliament saw some danger in financial innovations, and had but little sympathy with Church intrigues. The measures of government for the establishment of the Bank -for the recognition of the Bull Unigenitus-lastly, for allowing the Bank to monopolise the whole of the commerce in Indiawere, one after another, refused registration. Law and Dubois, fatigued with these disputes, proposed to do away with the parliament altogether, by the appointment of judges holding office at pleasure and entirely dependent on the court. The measure was too hardy, and dropped. When the determined opposition of the parliament forced the regent to exile it to Pontaise, he sent them away in the true French style. Expressions of the utmost politeness accompanied the order: the regent sent the members 100,000 francs for their personal expenses. De Mesmes, the first president, got 10,000 crowns, and the use of one of the handsomest country seats in France, which the regent almost compelled the Duc de Bouillon to give up for the time. The parliament amused themselves by feasting in public at the president's house; and, by registering the edict of their