ABBA, FATHER. ABBA, Father! own thy child, Make me gentle, pure, and mild, Abba, Father! hear me now, Raise me with an arm Divine. Abba, Father! bow thine ear, All unworthy though I be, Everlasting Father, Thou, Where adoring spirits bow, Thine the Everlasting Son, Let thy Spirit on me rest, E. I. H. A PEEP AT THE FRENCH COURT IN 1605. BY ELIZABETH. CHAPTER I. "WE fare on earth as other men have fared; "Base envy withers at another's joys And hates the excellence it cannot reach."-THOMSON. The HE King, Henri le Grand,* was at Fontainbleau,† and was, as usual, the nucleus of a brilliant circle. morning was fine; the hounds were unkennelled; horses were caparisoned, and equerries were leading to and fro some of those noble animals of Spanish race that scarcely brooked restraint. The King had however not yet left the saloon, and the courtiers, who had gathered round him, could not move till he should lead the way. He was in the act of booting, when the Duke of Sully entered. One leg was fully equipped, and a page stood ready with the other boot, when the king perceiving his minister, rose as if instinctively, half way from his seat; but, as though recollecting his dignity, he sank down again, composing himself to a regal attitude. The Duke made a profound obeisance, whilst the King, who often boasted of his skill in physiognomy, cast, as he returned the courtly salutation, a scrutinizing glance on Sully's countenance. Again and again he looked at the Grand Master of Artillery, but could read nothing in his scars of Fontainbleau is remarkable for its fine palace, in which the kings of France used to lodge when hunting. It stands in the midst of a forest thirty-five miles from Paris. This place has been recently famous for the imprisonment of Pius VII. under Napoleon. honour, and deep lines of thought, except loyalty, integrity, energy, and truth. "I will not hunt to-day ;" exclaimed the monarch, to the surprise of the assembled idlers; "the weather is not fine enough." The page, yet unhackneyed in the secrets of a court, replied, "Ah! Sire, it is very fine ;" but seeing at the moment a cloud arise upon his royal master's brow, he refrained from adding more. "Draw off my boot," said Henry. The page obeyed: then striking his little ivory rollers (rouleaux d'ivoire) together, as if perturbed by his own reflections, he looked again at Sully, and turned to talk with some who were too well practised in the arts of sycophancy, to mark their sovereign's change of mood, or allude to his alteration of purpose. He conversed first with one, and then with another, upon subjects likely to induce remarks from the Duke; but apparently occupied with his own reflections, Sully maintained a dignified silence, standing in the royal presence as the living Atlas of the Gallic world. It is true, he had long been under an eclipse which seemed likely to become total; but the shadow was even now clearing off, and the sun beginning to peer upon him with side-long rays athwart all intervention; for the King, who knew better than any one the weight of duty and responsibility that rested upon his minister, cast upon him, from time to time, despite himself, a glance of admiring sympathy. The conversation was continued for awhile; but as the King perceived Sully to be unwilling to join the groupe, in which there were some of his foes more insidious and malicious than any he had ever met in the field of battle, Henry directed his own attention to state affairs, and said to a nobleman, "Monsieur le Grand Ecuyer,* I will take a turn with you and give you your instructions, in order that you may depart to-day for Burgundy." Ere they descended the small balustrade that led to the queen's garden, the King whispered to L'Oserai, "Observe if the Duke of Sully follow us; if he turn another way, apprize me of his movements." Sully remained in the same place throughout the conversation which the King held with Le Grand Ecuyer, in the walk that led to the garden of the Conciergerie; but as soon as that conversation was finished, he advanced to ask if the King had any further commands for him. "And whither are you going, Sully? * Le Grand Ecuyer, Duc de Bellegarde, was Lieutenant of Burgundy, "To Paris, Sire, to attend to the orders you gave me yesterday.” 'Very good; have you anything more to communicate to me?" "Not now, Sire." "Then go; I recommend all my affairs to you, and charge you, that you love me well." Sully made "La Reverence" and withdrew; leaving the King standing, as if entranced in contemplation. Awaking from his reverie, Henry said quickly to La Varenne, who was no friend to Sully, "Run, recall the Duke." The messenger promptly obeyed, and returned with the Duke. The monarch advanced to meet them, speaking as soon as he could be heard, "Come hither, Sully. Have you really nothing to say to me?" "Nothing at present, Sire." "Then I have so much the more to say to you," said the King, with precipitation; and taking the Duke's hand, he led him to an avenue of mulberry trees, ordering two Swiss guards, who knew not the French language, to keep the entrance from intrusion. Having entered the walk, Henry yielded to the feelings of his heart, and folded Sully in a close embrace, saying, "I can no longer endure to practise such severity towards you, without hearing what you have to offer; I cannot yet believe you a base, intriguing rebel!" Sully's reply was brief; for his heart was full. "No, that was I NEVER." But here the facts of history must explain and chase away the shade that enveloped Sully. Soon after the accession of the King of Navarre to the throne of France, his life was attempted by a youth of the name of James Chastil, who had been educated among the Jesuits, and who confessed that he had often heard the fathers say, king-killing was lawful; and as Henry at that time, Dec. 27, 1591, had not acknowledged the authority of the Pope, he considered that it would be meritorious to rid the world of a heretic. In consequence of this attempt, the Jesuits were banished from France by the parliament of Paris. This order, ever restless as the troubled sea, yet always assuming the appearance of a peaceful calm, ceased not, by fair professions, to undermine the resolutions of Henry in their disfavour, and gradually encroached in their demands. Sully had ever been hostile to their residence in France; as he considered them not only persecutors in creed, but too contracted in their policy, and too bascly intriguing in their conduct, to be at any time admitted as denizens in a free state; * his opposition to them was characteristic; being courageous, ingenuous, and decided; but at length he was obliged to yield to the determination of his sovereign, that this body should have full permission to establish themselves in France. Of this permission they were not slow to avail themselves, but with their accustomed depth of artifice, they despatched to Paris some of the highest of their order, possessing exquisite talents, affected pliancy of disposition, attractive manners, and eloquent colloquial powers, with a ready tact for the parrying of difficulties, or objections to their perfect re-establishment. At the head of this deputation Le Père Cotton stood pre-eminent; and soon obtained the confidence of Henry by his semblance of integrity, and by the plausiblity of his conversation; and as Cotton imperceptibly gained influence over the King's mind, that influence acted powerfully to impede or counteract the wise counsels of his early friend and faithful minister. This re-admission of the Jesuits into his kingdom, was one of the greatest errors in Henry's government; as their baleful principles eventually shed a withering blight on the religious liberty of that country. One motive of Henry's yielding to their solicitations to erect colleges in France, was the persuasion that they would be won by gratitude to be his warm friends, and the protectors of his person. Alas! how vain are the thoughts of man! he that leaneth to his own understanding shall fall. No sooner had they gained firm footing in his dominions, than they sowed dissensions in his councils, raised unworthy suspicions in his mind, and finally, put an end to his reign by the plunging, by one of their order, or at least by one instructed by them, a dagger into his heart. Sully, however, was the first to feel their vengeance; he was to them as a mark at which to shoot the poisoned arrows of their bitter words; and, under the specious drapery of fine professions, their hatred and malice were persevering and boundless. So deeply, so insidiously, did Cotton and his colleagues incite Henry to jealousy of his minister, that Sully was continually called upon, in the first year after their return, to vindicate or exculpate himself. The enmity of the Jesuits, and their success in exciting suspicions of the conduct of Sully in the mind of his sovereign, gave strength to other envious rivals who added their voice of dissatisfaction against the economical management of this virtuous statesman; and during the two months that the King was at Fontainbleau, the murmurs respecting Sully's proceedings were at their height, and the majority of the Romanists, with other courtiers, daily In the year 60-45. |