Part 12
The anxious affection of the Queen for her sons, was marked to the last hour of her life; her watchful solicitude not only desired their temporal grandeur but their moral conduct and eternal salvation, to which her prayers were ever directed. She suffered much disquietude from the dissipation of Louis, and though wisely endeavouring to conceal or excuse his infidelities in the eyes of the Queen, she remonstrated with the King on several occasions with the zeal of a Christian, and the love of a parent; and though they failed of all the wished for effect, the affection and duty of the King steadily accompanied his mother to her grave. Her patience and fortitude, during a lingering and painful disease, could not be surpassed. She died of a cancer in the breast at sixty-five years of age; preserving, almost unimpaired, the beauty which had rendered her in youth the subject of universal admiration. Her attractions made her as naturally the object of calumny as of applause, for this is the tax they ever pay. That she had many lovers is beyond doubt, but whether she observed the rigid propriety of conduct asserted by Mde. de Motteville, or whether she was culpable of the indiscretions ascribed to her by less partial authors, it is at least certain that her virtues were _great_; and if she had faults, the neglect of her husband at the period when all Europe bent before her perfections, gives an undisputed apology. The cold and apathetic neglect of the gloomy Louis afforded encouragement to less lawful admiration; and of the number of her suitors none were more conspicuous than the accomplished English Duke of Buckingham. Mons. Regnault Warin does not scruple to make him the father, and Anne of Austria the mother, of the mysterious “Masque de Fer:” yet it is hardly credible to human feeling, that a mother’s tenderness could so far give way to state policy, as to sanction the long and cruel imprisonment of the being to whom she gave life but to be a curse. Yet this contradiction exists in the Memoires of the “Masque de Fer.”
The dislike of the Queen Marie de Médicis and of the minister De Richelieu of Anne of Austria (though some pens declare this crafty statesman to have been also the slave of her charms), greatly strengthened the indifference of the King towards his Queen: indeed, so much was it considered a miracle when the heir to the crown was born, that he was surnamed the “Gift of God.”[17] It was the King’s own act to nominate the Queen, Regent, after his death; and his confidence in her integrity and wisdom was fully justified by her exercise of this power. She was free from all spirit of revenge, never seeking it, even of her worst enemies; and this was greatly evinced in her consideration of the Queen Mary of Médicis, after she had incurred the displeasure of Louis XIII. as well as her kind reception of the persecuted Queen of England, when driven for refuge to the court of France. When Princess of France, Henrietta had been often by the influence of her mother, Mary de Médicis, guilty of acts of unkindness to her brother’s Queen; but this never appeared in the behaviour of the latter towards the Queen of England, whose sorrows she in every manner sought to alleviate, and furnished her with money to send to her captive husband, till the sad termination of his fate. The Duchess of Orléans was only a few days old when her royal brother fled from England; and brought up in the family of the French monarch, she was very dear to the Queen Mother, and chosen by her as the wife of her second son, afterwards Duke of Orléans.
[15] Likewise the Grand Condé.
[16] Louis was however, till the death of Mazarin, as well as the Queen Mother, bound by the chain of influence and power the latter lived to regret having allowed to the Cardinal.
[17] Dieu-donné.
❦
[Sidenote: The MSS.]
My friend, I’ve been robb’d! “How I pity your grief!” All my manuscripts gone! “How I pity the thief!”
❦
Let your courage be as keen, but at the same time as polished, as your sword.
❦
[Sidenote: The Nursing of Love.]
Lapt in Cythera’s golden sands, When first true Love was born on earth, Long was the doubt, what fost’ring hands Should tend, and rear the glorious birth.
First Hebe claim’d the sweet employ; Her cup, her thornless flowers, she said, Would feed him best with health and joy, And cradle best his cherub head.
But anxious Venus justly feared The tricks and changeful mind of Youth; Too mild, the seraph Peace appeared; Too stern, too cold, the matron Truth.
Next Fancy claimed him for her own; But Venus disallowed her right; She deem’d her Iris pinions shone Too dazzling for his infant sight.
To Youth, awhile, the charge was given, And well with Youth the cherub throve; Till Innocence came down from heaven, Sole guardian friend and nurse of Love.
Pleasure grew mad with envious spite, When all preferred to her she found; She vow’d full vengeance for the slight, And soon success her purpose crown’d.
The trait’ress watch’d a sultry hour, When pillow’d on her blush rose bed, Tired Innocence to slumber’s power One moment bow’d her virgin head.
Then Pleasure on the thoughtless child Her toys, and sugar’d poisons press’d; Drunk with new joy he heav’d, he smil’d, Reel’d, sunk, and died upon her breast!
❦
[Sidenote: An Opera.]
The first composer who tried his hand at setting an opera to music was Francisco Bamirino, an Italian artist; and the piece to which he lent the charm of a melodious accompaniment, was the “Conversion of St. Paul,” which was brought out at Rome in 1460.
❦
[Sidenote: Calumny or Detraction.]
The strongest, brightest light will always offend a weak, vitiated sight; and the lowest vermin will prey upon the fairest fruit. Thus _detraction_ comes from the envious, and the base, and low-minded.
❦
[Sidenote: Goût and Gout.]
How is’t the French in all they do Have goût, while we’re without? Nature, who gives them simply goût, Has changed our goût to _gout_!
❦
[Sidenote: Les Lazzaroni de l’ancien tems.]
Les Lazzaroni ont trop souvent été confondus avec la vile populace de Naples, race dégradée. On ignore s’ils descendent de l’une des colonies grecques, qui, dans des temps reculés, vinrent s’établir dans cette riche et belle contrée; ou s’ils appartiennent à une famille latine; ou s’ils sont les descendans de quelqu’une des races Germaniques, qui, sous le nom d’Hérules, Lombards, ou d’Ostrogoths, vinrent successivement y planter leurs tentes. On l’ignore; mais il est certain que les Lazzaroni forment une famille bien distincte de celles des autres habitans du royaume de Naples. Ces sont des hommes grands et forts, laborieux et sobres; leur union pourrait balancer la puissance du gouvernement, aussi respecte-il leur privilèges, et fait-il tous ses efforts pour se les attacher. Le Lazzarone aime cette terre où il vit, mais ne cherche pas à sortir de la classe dans laquelle il est né. Ils ont l’extérieur remarquable par la mâle beauté des formes. Un lien fraternel semble unir les Lazzaroni; ils ne subissent point les lois du Royaume quand elles paraissent contraires à leurs traditions, qu’ils savent faire respecter. Seuls ils sont libres sur cette terre d’esclaves, et ont le droit incontesté de s’assembler publiquement et en grand nombre, sans que le gouvernement songe à les troubler dans ces nobles manifestations de la dignité de l’homme. Le Capo-Lazzaroni est le chef suprême de toute la famille; il est élu par ses frères, et il exerce sur eux une autorité qui rappelle le tribunat des Romains. Si le Capo n’est point entouré des insignes de la royauté, au moins en a t-il une autorité réelle, et pas moins efficace. Le Capo est chargé de faire respecter les droits de sa caste. Il a une place réservée aux cérémonies où assiste la Cour, qui s’étudie surtout en public a lui montrer beaucoup d’égards. C’est le Capo qui a le droit de vérifier le sexe de l’enfant dont la Reine vient d’accoucher, et c’est lui qui le montre au peuple du haut du balcon royal.
❦
[Sidenote: Louis XVIII.]
Although the perpetrator of the daring attempt was never discovered, it is well known that the late Louis XVIII. of France, narrowly escaped assassination whilst at Dettingen. The King was standing at the window of an hotel, when a pistol was fired at him, the ball of which lodged in the window frame. One of the persons standing near to the King, alarmed at his sovereign’s very narrow escape, exclaimed, “Oh, Sire! had the aim been one inch lower--” “Why then,” (interrupted the intrepid monarch, with the utmost presence of mind) “the King of France would have been styled Charles the Tenth.”
❦
_Directions to the Porter._
Thou faithful guardian of these peaceful walls, Whose jealous care protects thy master’s gate, If any stranger at this mansion calls, I’ll tell thee who shall enter, who shall wait.
If Fortune (blindfold goddess) chance to knock, Or proud Ambition lure thee to her arms, Shut, shut the door! good John, quick turn the lock, And shield thy master from their syren charms.
If sober Wisdom hither deigns to roam, Nor let her in, nor send her quite away; Tell her at present I am not at home, But hope she’ll call again some other day.
If at my door a beauteous boy be seen, Whose little feet have oft my threshold trod; Thou know’st the offspring of the Cyprian queen, His air, without his bow, bespeak the god.
His gentle smiles admittance ever win, Though oft deceived, I prize the fond deluder; Morn, noon, and night be sure to let him in With welcome--Love is never an intruder.
❦
[Sidenote: Origin of the title of “Sforza.”]
James Sforza, the father of Francis the first Duke, was the founder of the house of Sforza, which gave six Dukes to Milan, and was allied with almost every sovereign in Europe during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. He was born in 1369, at Catignuola, near Faenza; his father, according to tradition, was a day labourer, and to others, a shoemaker, but probably wrought as both. Perceiving some soldiers pass, he was struck with the desire of bearing arms. “I will go,” said he to himself, “and dart my hatchet against that tree, and if it stick fast in the wood I will immediately become a soldier.” The hatchet stuck fast, and because, says the Abbot of Choisi, he threw the axe with all his force, he assumed the supposed fortunate name of Sforza, as his real name was Giacomuzzo, or James Attendulo.
❦
[Sidenote: Duke of Calabria.]
The Duke of Calabria, father of the unfortunate Joanna, Queen of Naples, was buried in the church of St. Claire, founded by his father in 1310. The sculpture of his monument is beautifully emblematical of his known protection of defenceless innocence: from a Conch shell at his feet, a lamb slakes its thirst, regardless of the fierce wolf drinking at the same fountain.
❦
[Sidenote: Love and Reason.]
’Twas in the summer time so sweet, When hearts and flowers were both in season, When, who of all the world should meet, One early dawn, but Love and Reason!
Love told his dream of yesternight, Whilst Reason talk’d about the weather: The morning, sooth, was clear and bright, So on they took their way together.
The boy in many a gambol flew; Whilst Reason like a Juno stalk’d, And from her portly figure threw A lengthen’d shadow as they walk’d.
No wonder Love, as on they pass’d, Should find the sunny morning chill; For still the shadow Reason cast Follow’d the boy, and cool’d him still.
In vain he strove his wings to warm, Or find a pathway not so dim; For still the maid’s gigantic form Would pass between the sun and him.
“This must not be,” said little Love, “The sun was made for more than you.” So, turning down a myrtle grove, He bade the portly nymph “Adieu.”
Now gaily roves the laughing boy O’er many a mead, through many a bower, In every breeze inhaling joy, And drinking bliss from every flower.
From all the gardens, all the bowers, He cull’d the many sweets they shaded; He eat the fruits, and smelt the flowers, Till taste was gone, and odour faded.
Now the sun, in pomp of noon, Rose high above the parched plains; Alas! the boy grew languid soon, And fever thrill’d through all his veins.
The dew forsook his baby brow, No more with vivid bloom he smil’d; Ah! where was tranquil _Reason_ now, To cast her shadow o’er the child?
Beneath a green and aged palm, His foot at length for shelter turning; He saw the maid reclining calm, With brow as cool as his was burning.
“Oh take me to your bosom cold!” In murmurs at her feet he said, And Reason oped her garment’s fold, And flung it round his feverish head.
He felt her bosom’s icy touch, And soon it lull’d his pulse to rest; But ah! the chill was quite too much, And Love expir’d on Reason’s breast.
❦
[Sidenote: Clocks.]
The first Clock seen in Europe was a present from Haroun Alraschid to Charlemagne; and in the fourteenth century, _Dondi_ of Padua was raised to the peerage for making one of an improved construction. The title, “Marquis Dondi del Orologio,” descended to the eighteenth century, and probably still exists.
❦
[Sidenote: Tea and Coffee.]
The Maréchale de Mirepoix was afflicted with a constant shaking of the head, and it was attributed to her use of tea, of which she took several cups daily; having accustomed herself to it in England, where her husband had been ambassador. At one time Tea and Coffee were considered as poisons, and it is stated, that in one of the northern countries they made trial of them three times a day on two criminals, whose lives were spared on condition of their undergoing this terrible ordeal. The result was, that the culprit who took the Tea lived to be seventy-nine, and the other, eighty.
❦
[Sidenote: Comparative qualities in the characters of the French and English.]
The French are beyond all manner of doubt the most good humoured people on the surface of the earth; if we understand at least, by the term _good humour_, those minor courtesies, those considerate kindnesses, those cursory attentions, which, though they cost little to the giver, are not the less valuable to the receiver; which soften the asperities of life, and by their frequent occurrence, and the constant necessity in which we stand of them have an aggregate, if not an individual importance. The English perhaps, as nationally possessing the more solid virtues, may be the best friends and the most generous benefactors; but a friendship in this more exalted acceptation of it is rare, and beneficence almost miraculous; it is a serious question with me, which is the most useful being in society--the light, good-humoured Frenchman, or the slow, meditating Englishman?
❦
[Sidenote: Scandal.]
Believe not each aspersing word, As most weak persons do; But still believe that story false Which ought not to be true.
❦
Il faut qu’un Empereur meurt debout.
❦
Haply when age has silver’d o’er my hair, Malice may learn to scorn so mean a spoil; Envy may slight a face no longer fair; And Pity, welcome to a kindlier soil.
❦
[Sidenote: Personal Beauty.]
There is no blessing more utterly valueless when its first charm has passed over and faded from the imagination, than mere personal beauty; where there is no intellect, no heart, no sweetness of temper, no cheering gaiety of spirit, no genius, talent, nor precious moral worth to enclose and preserve it from wearying the sense, and palling the affection.
❦
[Sidenote: Daguerrotype.]
A woman’s heart is the only true plate for a man’s likeness. An _instant_ gives the impression, and an age of sorrow and change cannot efface it.
❦
It is well if we have _thoughts_ to comfort us, for _facts_ are miserable allies when imagination fights its battle with despair.
❦
There are no people so often in the wrong, as those who will not bear to be thought so.
❦
[Sidenote: Pyramids.]
The greatest of the three, and chief of the world’s seven wonders, is west of Cairo. It takes up eight acres of ground, every square being 300 paces in length, and the square of the top consisting of three stones only, yet large enough for threescore people to stand upon; ascended by two hundred and fifty-five steps, each step above three feet high, and of a breadth proportionable. No stone so little throughout the whole as to be drawn by our carriages; yet were these hewn out of the Trojan mountains, far off in Arabia: a wonder how conveyed thither, and how so mounted a greater. Twenty years it was building; by three hundred three score and six thousand men continually wrought upon, who, only in radishes, garlick, and onions, are said to have consumed one thousand and eight hundred talents.
❦
_The Congress._
La Russie danse pour tout. La Prusse pense pour tout. La Bavière boit pour tout. La Wirtemberg mange pour tout. L’Angleterre prend pour tout. La France cède pour tout. L’Autriche paye pour tout.
❦
_A Sketch of our Saviour’s Person, drawn with a noble simplicity and candour by an Unbeliever._
It being the usual custom of the Roman Governors to advertize the senate and people of Rome of such things as happened in their respective provinces, in the days of Tiberius Cæsar, the emperor, Pub. Leontulus, President of Judea, wrote the following epistle to the senate, concerning our blessed Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.
“There appeared in our days a man of great virtue, named Jesus Christ, who is yet living among us, and of the nation accepted for a Prophet of truth, but his disciples call him the Son of God!
“He raises the dead! and cureth all manner of diseases: a man of stature somewhat tall, and comely, with a very rev’rend countenance, such as the beholders may both love and fear.
“His hair of the colour of a chestnut full ripe, down to his ears, whence downwards it is more orient, curling and waving about his shoulders: in the midst of his head is a seam or partition of his hair, after the manner of the Nazarites: his forehead plain and very delicate, his face without spot or wrinkle, beautified with a lively red; his nose and mouth so formed as nothing can be reprehensible; his beard thickish, in colour like his hair, and not over long, but forked; his look innocent, but mature; his eyes gray, clear, and quick. In reproving he is terrible, in admonishing courteous and fair spoken, pleasant in conversation, mixed with gravity. It cannot be remembered that any have seen him laugh, but many have seen him weep. In proportion of body most excellent; his hands and arms delectable to behold. In speaking, very moderate, modest, and wise.
“A man, for his singular beauty, surpassing the children of men!”
❦
[Sidenote: Ennui.]
Mrs. Frances Sheridan described “Ennui,” as a new name for a compound disease of the blood, the brain, and the heart, from which none but the idle and selfish ever suffered; and Mrs. Barbauld added, that in God’s universe men, in spite of the heaviest afflictions or the greatest bereavements, might always find objects worthy of their hearts, and occupations worthy of their minds.
❦
O! many a shaft at random sent Finds mark the archer little meant; And many a word at random spoken, May soothe or wound a heart that’s broken.
❦
_On an Infant._
Ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade, Death came with friendly care; The opening bud to heaven conveyed, And bade it blossom there.
❦
It is remarked by T. P. Richter, one of the most celebrated German writers, that the empire of the sea belongs to the English, that of the earth to the French, and that of the air to the Germans. Madame de Stael says, “C’est l’imagination, plus que l’esprit, qui caracterise les Allemands.”
❦
_Hôtel à Paris “à vendre, ou à louer.”_
Cette enseigne, il faut l’avouer, De deux manières peut s’entendre: S’il s’agit de l’Hôtel, il peut-être à louer, Mais s’il s’agit du maître, Il est toujours à Vendre!
❦
[Sidenote: Epigram.]
On dit que l’Abbé Planchette Prêche les sermons d’autrui; Moi, qui sais qu’il les achette, Je soutiens qu’ils sont à lui.
❦
[Sidenote: Russian Anecdote.]
Lieutenant Rileieff, an officer on half-pay, who had participated in the insurrection, had been sentenced, with four other persons, to be torn in quarters by horses; but fearing the effect of a punishment so horrid and so unusual on the public mind, the sentence was changed to hanging, and the execution took place on the 24th July. The widowed Madame de Rileieff, who had only been a wife a few months, on the night which followed the execution, obtained from the executioner (to whom she went and offered a considerable bribe) the body of her husband; and herself, laden with this dreadful but cherished burthen, hastened to an isolated house which she occupied, where, after bathing it with her tears, she herself prepared the mutilated remains for the grave, which she made with her own hands in a secluded spot of the garden, solemnly and carefully closing the earth over it. And on that spot, soon as the stars brightened the heavens, was this poor mourner to be seen, like a phantom, clothed in deepest mourning, kneeling on the grave till morning. One winter’s night she came as usual, and knelt in prayer. The snow fell fast, and hung on her widowed garment: little by little her enfeebled frame yielded to the blast, and she fell insensible on the earth. When day dawned, she was at peace: she lay dead on her husband’s grave.
❦
During the march of the exiles from the splendid city of St. Petersburg to their dreary destination, a dreadful occurrence took place whilst crossing the forest of Yirna, during a halt in the night. The military commandant of the escort had ordered that Albaniski, one of the exiles, who had been guilty of some disregard of discipline, should be lashed to a tree, about a hundred steps distant from the camp. The night was far advanced, and the wretched culprit had appeared to resign himself to his fate, when dreadful and repeated cries were heard through the dense forest, awfully disturbing the silence of night: the screams increasing, the sentinels on duty awoke their officer, but soon all was again silent. Horrid to relate, on directing their search whence the sounds had proceeded, they found Albaniski bathed in blood, and nearly devoured by wolves. There were nearly a hundred of these ravenous beasts collected about the poor expiring man, and it was with difficulty that they were separated from the mangled limbs of their prey.
❦
[Sidenote: Hospitality of the remote ages.]
The hospitality of England was so great in the remote ages, that a chieftain even blushed to close his door: he flew to meet a stranger of any rank, presented him with water to wash, and took from him his arms, this being the signification that he would pass the night under his roof, which was considered as a mark of respect and honour.
❦
[Sidenote: Turkish Anecdote.]
When Morusi, the Interpreter of the Ottoman Porte, was ordered to be beheaded, the Sultan Mahmoud, being desirous of seeing his blood flow, expressly forbade the executioner letting the axe fall till he perceived a certain blind of the harem drawn up; and he had the cruelty to allow the wretched Morusi to wait a whole hour in this dreadful situation before he gave the appointed signal. Buonaparte repeated this anecdote as an “affaire _de jalousie_.”
❦