27 FEBRUARY 1847, Page 16

SPECTATOR'S LIBRARY.

HISTORICAL GOSsIP,

Louts the Fourteenth and the Court of France in the Seventeenth Century. By

Miss Pardoe, Author of "The City of the Sultan," Sec. In three volumes Bentley.

HISCIVLLANTAlls LPTERATUZI.,

Favourite Haunts and Rural Studies ; including Visits to Spots of Interest In the VI• cinity of Windsor and Eton. By Edward Jesse, Esq., Author of "Gleanings in

Natural History," Re. With numerous Illustrations Murray. Fiction,

George Lovell; a Novel. By James Sheridan Knowles, Author of "Virginius,"

" William Tell," Re. In three volumes Moron.

MISS FARDOE'S LOUIS THE FOURTEENTH.

THE power of expressing as a whole whatever employs the artist's pencil, is laid down by Reynolds as the characteristic of genius peculiar to "the painter's trade "; for the faculty of conceiving the subject with dignity belongs, in his opinion, as much to "the poet, or the professor of any other liberal art, or even to a good critic in any of those arts, as to a painter." This view of genius may be received in every art which aims at im- parting pleasure through the higher faculties, where mode is important as well as matter, and the mind must be impressed as well as instructed. The great dramatic or epic poet excites the attention and touches the soul by the rapidity and variety of his fable, the interest of his action, the strength and naturalness of the characters and sentiments, and the unity of purpose that pervades the whole, leaving the reader neither time nor disposition to consider beauties or faults of detail, which only come up before the mind upon a long acquaintance with the piece. Such, though in a different degree, is the case with prose fiction and narrative history. The reader's mind is filled with the whole subject ; he is carried along to its natural end or pause, without either thinking or caring for particular parts, or that medium (style) in which the whole is presented. We suspect that even disquisition connected with the history should par- take of this character of wholeness. If the narrative has properly repre- sented the men and the actions, the reader will not only be ready to take in an account of the manners and conduct which he may have seen em- bodied, but even yearn for it.

This faculty of presenting great subjects "as a whole," or in reality of

taking possession of other minds by excluding all other ideas, belongs only to imaginative genius. There is, however, another kind of whole- ness, that arises from a proper preparation and industry. In this as in every other exercise the mind must have some sort of fitness for its task; but the critical cause of the unity or consistency we are speaking of, is really mastery of subject. The general arrangement or plan is greatly dependent upon the knowledge acquired by industry ; facts ever modifying preconceived theory. The general effect produced by the whole will altogether depend upon the labour and care of the workman, in pro- portion of course to his natural power. The writer who thoroughly di- gests the original authorities, and bestows an attention proportioned to their merit upon authors who have treated the subject, acquires a mastery of the entire matter, which places every thing in its proper place, enables him to present a consistent view of his subject, and to convey his views with certainty. The compiler who gets at his materials by the readiest sources, and, if he goes to originals at all, only peruses the most pic- turesque and popular, will want this unity, and be constantly liable to blunders and inconsistencies, from his deficiency in depth or thoroughness of knowledge. Both these faults will be grievously increased if the com- piler chiefly has recourse to the more flashy second-hand writers, and those gossipy and anecdotical originals whose every statement requires to be brought to the touchstone. Louis the Fourteenth and the Court of France in the Seventeenth Century, by Miss Pardoe, is a compila- tion of this latter kind.

Miss Pardoe's avowed object is to "display more fully than has yet

been done the domestic life of the Great Monarch ; and to pass in review the arts, the beauties, and the poets of his court." There is some loose- ness of statement here : courtiers and ministers are omitted from the cate- gory, and for "domestic" we should read "courtly and private." But, taking it in Miss Pardoe's meaning rather than her words—as the history of the court rather than of the government, the personal rather than the public—the task is one of difficulty. The selfishness, profligacy, vice, and pompous meanness— "Beauty that shocks you, parts that none will trust, Wit that can creep, and pride that licks the dust "—

require, to do them justice, a very peculiar combination of worldly delicacy and wit with an equally unworldly philosophy. Without this combination, the vice will be too staring for our age, or be softened down till its features vanish ; the pomps and vanities of the court will be described in a harsh puritanical style, or with the gusto of a theatrical " property " man ; while the spirit of selfishness and hollow greatness that pervades the whole will escape or lose its character altogether. Miss Pardoe, however, has not closely stuck to her courtly text. She seems a good deal less swayed by the nature of her subjects than by the ease with which she can get at her materials, or the facilities her authors offer for ready use. The work contains above 1350 pages. Of these, some four hundred are devoted to the reign of Louis the Thirteenth, the rule of Richelieu, and the government of the boy Louis the Fourteenth under the Regency of Anne of Austria and her paramour Mazarin. In strictness, however, the reign of Louis does not begin till he was emancipated by the death of Mazarin from Ministerial sway, and got unlimited control over money ; which event occurs about the 750th page of the work, or beyond the half of the whole book. This difference between plan and exe- cution would not have been of any consequence, had manners and persons, the professed purpose of the book, been well exhibited : but such is not the case. The wars of Anne and the victories of Marlborough, which cast such gloom and despondency over the declining years of Louis the Great, are dismissed in a paragraph : there are interminable stories about the faction-fights of the Fronde. The sole reason for this treatment seems to be, that the triumphs of Marlborough would require some

labour and comprehension to discover and state in their character and results ; while the narrative of the Fronde was ready for translation in the egotistical Memoirs of Mademoiselle de Montpensier, of those of the Cardinal de Retz, and similar books,—though, strange to say, the mos striking features of the courtly manners of the age throughout the con- test often disappear.

There is as much incongruity in those parts which rather depend upon composition than general plan and the choice of matter. In any particular epoch the compiler seems to have looked at the telling things of her books, from; Dumas's Louis XIV. et son Siècle down to the Memoirs of Laporte the valet of Louis, and taken them bodily out without the trouble of arranging them in any order. Hence, there is often a strange jumble of topics, which are brought together without connecting links save those of mere phrases—as the ever-recurring "meanwhile" or "in the mean time." The grammatical reader will also find an occasional verbal obscurity, which we can only account for in this way. Miss Pardoe seems rather to transcribe than to reproduce, sometimes by wholesale, sometimes in lesser quantity; and sometimes she takes a sentence from an author, who, having first stated a thing fully, recurs to it afterwards as to a grammatical antecedent. Hence, what was plain in the original text and context becomes obscure when the text stands alone.

To any critical merit, as a judiciously planned and well executed view of the court and courtiers of Louis the Fourteenth, Miss Pardoe's book has no pretension. Neither has the writer that peculiar spirit which seizes the manner of things, if it can penetrate no deeper' presents them with liveliness and grace, and a variety changing with the nature of the topics. But the book has an attraction of a lower kind, which with many may serve almost as well. The authoress has from habit a knack of selecting what may be called the popular points of things, and pre- senting them in a readable way. The voluminous memoir-writers ot the seventeenth century are gossiping, anecdotical, and amusing, if not always to be taken with implicit trust ; and the modern French writers on the subject of Louis the Fourteenth are at once guides or short cuts to the memoir-writers. With such materials, and an ad captandunt mode of using them, the book, if flat, crude, or over-minute, is not re- pulsive or tedious. There is no wholeness or unity about it; and when the reader may have got to the end, he will possibly have indistinct ideas —"a mass of things, though nothing wherefore." But the road itself is smoother than might be supposed. The stories of the three mistresses, La Valliere, Montespan, and Maintenon, are perhaps the most complete, though much broken up. There are also accounts of fetes and proces- sions, but not as much as might have been expected : the form of history or at least of narrative is preserved; but the matter of the book is gossip, scandal, anecdote, or personal story. We take our extracts from the anecdotes.

MOT OF LOUIS THE FIFTEENTH.

The arrogance and despotism of Marie de Medicis had made her many ene- mies, and these were not idle in nourishing the exasperation of the Monarch against her. We have already stated that vindictiveness formed a strong fea- ture in his character; and, having once roused himself to so extreme a step as that of her banishment, he lent a ready and willing ear to every insinuation which tended to justify its prolongation. Bassompierre relates an anecdote, which tends to prove that neither time nor absence had weakened this feeling, many months after her removal to Blois had taken place. On one occasion he entered the apartment of Louis when he was practising the French horn, and ventured to expostulate with the young Monarch; reminding him that it was injurious to the chest, and that it had shortened the life of Charles IX. "You are wrong Bassomperre," was the reply of the King, as he laid his hand on the Duke's shon. der; "it was not that which killed him. It was his having exiled his mother, Queen Catherine, from the court on the occasion of a misunderstanding between them, and his having afterwards recalled her. Had he not committed that im- prudence, he would have lived longer."

EQUIVOCAL COMPLIMENT.

M. d'Emery was the son of a banker of Lyons named Particelli, who became a bankrupt to an immense extent; a circumstance which determined his son to abandon the paternal name and to adopt that of Emery. It would appear that Richelieu appretiated in the young man the very qualities which the coadjutor decried; for he personally presented him to Louis XIII. under his adopted name, as a candidate for the superintendence of finance. The King looked at him for an instant, and repeating once or twice, " D'Emery, D'Emery, I never heard the name before," desired that the appointment might be immediately made out, as he had been informed that the rascally Particelli intended to apply for it,. The Cardinal assured his Majesty that such a fear was groundless, as that Particelli of whom be spoke had been hanged. "Alt the better," said the King; "and since you answer for M. d'Emery, let him have the place."

PRECOCIOUS ROYALTY.

The King and the children of honour were in the habit of exchanging trifling presents; and De Lomenie having on one occasion delighted his royal playfellow' by some gift, and being desirous to amuse himself with a cross-bow, which was just then in favour with Louis, [the Fourteenth] the latter consented in return to lend him the coveted plaything; but, anxious to repossess it, eventually held out his hand to take it Wk; when Madame de Senecey observed, "Sire, kings give what they lend." Upon which, Louis, desiring his young companion to ap- proach, said calmly, " Keep the cross- bow, M. de Lomenie: I wish that it were something of more importance, but, such as it is, I give it you with all my heart."

The subject of duelling, which grew to such a height during the quar- rels of the Fronde, is not omitted, but it is hardly exhibited in its fulness. Here are a couple of mots to which the subject gave rise. "Another dispute on the same contemptible question of precedence took place between the Prince of Tarente, son of the Duke de la Trimouille and the Count de Rieux, son of the Duke d'Elbauf. M. de Condi, who chanced to be present, favoured the pretensions of the Prince de Tarente, who was his near relative; and during the discussion which ensued, the Count de Rieux having made use of a gesture which M. de Condi construed into an affront, he returned it by a blow, which was instantly met by another. The Prince, who was without his sword, instantly seized that of the Baron de Migenne, who was standing near him, and M. de Rieux as promptly drew his owe; when the Count de Rohan, apprehensive of the consequences, sprang between the combatants, ordering M. de Bleu' instantly to withdraw; and be was forthwith committed to the Bastille by Monsieur. DI. de Condi was not, however, to be so easily appeased; he insisted that he would have satisfaction for the insult to which he had been subjected; and it was with considerable difficulty that his friends could convince him that he had been the

first aggressor; when, finally, aware that his courage could not under any circum- stances be called in question, he consented to let the matter drop; but it, never- theless, rankled deeply; and in the afternoon of the same day, he remarked to Mademoiselle that she saw a man who had been beaten for the first time in his life.

"A similar circumstance had nearly occurred during the first war of the Fronde, and was only prevented by a witticism of the President Bellievre. M. de Beaufort, experiencing some difficulty in the success of his projects through the interference of the Duke d'Elbceuf, lost his temper; and seeking some method to attain his purpose, exclaimed passionately, 'If I were to strike M. d'ElIxeuf, do you not think that it would change the face of affairs?'

"No, your Highness,' replied the President; I think that it would only change the face of M. d'Elbceuf.'"

THE DEATH OF MAZARLY.

His weakness increased hour by hoar; while the declaration of Guenand, that he had only two months more to live, was continually present to him by day, and haunted his dreams by night. On one occasion, when Brienne entered his cham- ber on tiptoe, the valet-de-chambre of his Eminence having warned him that his master was dozing in an arm-chair beside the fire, the visiter discovered that he was convulsed with agitation, although evidently in a profound sleep. His body rocked to and fro, impelled by its own weight; and his head swung from the back of his chair to his knees, as he flung himself to the right and left incessantly; and during the lapse of five minutes that M. de Brienne continued to watch his move- ments, he asserts that the pendulum of a clock did not vibrate more rapidly than the frame of the sufferer. At intervals he uttered a few words, but in so low and choked a voice that they were unintelligible; and at length Brienne, linable longer to endure so wretched a spectacle, and fearful lest the sick man should fall into the fire, summoned his attendant from the antechamber to his assistance.

As he was aroused from his troubled sleep, the Cardinal betrayed the secret which was preying upon his vitals: the name of his physician, and the period cf existence which had been assigned to him, were the first sounds that escaped his livid lips; and when those about him endeavoured to cheer him by the remark that Guenaud was only mortal, and his judgment consequently fallible, he an- swered, with a heavy sigh, that Guenaud understood his trade. • • • The Cardinal de Richelieu, a man of high birth and ancient family, had felt that he had a right to possess a princely revenue; but Mazarin, whose origin was at best equivocal, and who had been the architect of his own fortunes, at whose extent be learnt to shudder in the solitude of a death-chamber, became terrified as he reflected that he was able to bequeath more than forty millions to his family. His confessor, a conscientious Theatine monk—startled like himself at the unheard- of amount of his wealth, which Mazarin mentioned in the course of his confession, allowing that he considered it as a sin—at once declared that his Eminence would be damned if he did not forthwith make restitution of that portion of the money which had been ill acquired: to which the Cardinal rejoined, that he owed all to the bounty of the King. The honest ecclesiastic was not to be deceived, however, by such a compromise with principle; and retorted, with the same finn- nese, that the Cardinal must compel himself to distinguish between what he kid actually received from the Sovereign as a free gift, and what he had himself ap- propriated: upon which Masada, in despair at such an announcement, declared that in that case he must restore the whole. He then reflected for an instant, and desired that M. Colbert might be immediately sent to his apartment. When Colbert had obeyed the summons, the Cardinal confided to him the diffi- culty which had arisen; and the former at once advised, in order to remove his scruples, and to prevent his immense fortune from passing away from his family, that he should make a donation of all that he possessed to the King, who would not fail in his royal generosity to annul the act at once. Mazarin approved the expedient; and on the ad of March the necessary document was prepared: but three days having elapsed without the restoration of his property, he became the victim of a thousand fears: and as he sat in his chair 130 wrung his hands with agony. The wealth for which he had toiled and sinned—which he had wrenched alike from the voluptuous noble and the industrious artisan—had, as Ile believed, passed away from him for ever. The la*r of his life was rendered of none avail; and the curses which he had accumulated upon his own head had failed even to gild his tomb. "My poor family !"he exclaimed at intervals; "my poor family! they will be left without bread." This bitter suspense was not, however, fated to be of long duration. On the

third day from the transmission of the deed of gift, Colbert entered his chamber radiant with success, and placed the recovered document in his hands, with the in- telligence that the King had definitively refused to accept the offering, and that he authorized the minister to dispose of all his property as he should see fit. On receiving this assurance, the worthy Theatine declared himself satisfied, and at once bestowed the absolution which he had previously withheld; and he had no sooner done so than Mazarin drew from beneath his bolster a will which he had already prepared, and delivered it to Colbert.