distinguished personages of the time, the king included, the advantage of appearing much taller than he really was. This curious peculiarity of the 17th century, was doubtless not independent of the costume. The high and majestic peruke of the men, the slender waists of the women's dresses, and the high heels which both wore, had probably much to do with it; but it cannot be denied, that it was also the effect, in part, of the physiognomies. Look at the portraits of this time; would you not say they were cousins of Louis XIV. Some men, however, Bossuet among others, recall the ruder and somewhat Spanish type of the time of Louis XIII. and Corneille. Claude also belonged to this latter class. His features had not the grand and Bourbonian regularity which the sight of the king seemed to impress upon all the visages of the court. A child of the south, he had in his eyes and in his gestures something more spirited; but as this vivacity neither injured the precision of his language, nor the nobleness of his movements, it served only to augment the impression produced by his presence. Unfortunately his voice did not prepossess in favor of his words. It was dry and somewhat harsh; and to this was added a decided southern accent. On this account, it had been jocosely said, at the time of his election at Charenton, that all voices were in his favor, save his own.

Scarcely had he crossed the threshold of Bourdaloue's chamber, before he perceived Bossuet approaching him. He stopped. It was neither repulsion nor dread, but he could not be otherwise than profoundly surprised, that Bourdaloue had thought fit to admit a third person, and that that person should be Bossuet. An explanation was necessary; it was brief.

"I have just arrived," said Bossuet, "quite accidentally. Allow me to retire-" ,

"Why, sir, why? If it is accident which brings you, there

is no longer any reason why your presence should surprise me. And who knows, besides, if this accident may not be Providence ? As for myself, I confess that I am very happy to meet, in a fraternal interview, a man whom I have as yet, only encountered on the field of battle.—And you, sir," he continued, addressing himself to Bourdaloue, "pardon me my first surprise. It was an insult to your delicacy-"

"Do not speak of it; appearances were against me." They took seats; but the conversation was not flowing. Every one has remarked that an interview which commences badly, is some time before taking a happy turn; it is in vain that the speakers are convinced that no one has been in fault; it requires some moments for the first impression to wear off. Add to this, that Bossuet was not at ease. In spite of Claude's assurances, he felt himself de trop, and regretted not having persisted in leaving.—Bourdaloue, on his part, made vain efforts to think of something else besides his sermon, and the minutes which were flying, and the precious time which he was forced to lose, and for what? To answer yes or no to insignificant observations,—for such a reception was little calculated to put Claude at his ease, and permit him to enter upon some subject which was worth talking of. A conversation upon rain and sunshine, is always insipid enough, but when the speakers are people of merit, it is still sadder and still more insipid. One would just as willingly see them embroider, or string pearls.

Dissatisfied with himself and with them, Claude was about to retire after a visit of a quarter of an hour, when Messieurs de Fénélon were announced.

We have already seen that the latter had agreed to visit Bourdaloue on this evening. The marquis looked forward to it with much pleasure; thus, though his nephew had expressed to him

the fear that their visit might disturb the Father, on account of his next day's sermon, he insisted upon going.

Salutations, compliments, etc. All presentations are alike.

But M. de Fénélon was hardly seated, before his eye fell upon Claude, accidentally placed opposite to him, and he began to examine him with the air of a man striving to recall something. Bourdaloue had presented Claude to him, according to custom; but, whether he had not distinguished the name, or whether he had not listened to it, he had bowed without a reply, and without troubling himself to hear better. So he looked, and looked again, and when conversation began, he seemed to regret the moments which politeness forced him to withdraw his gaze. At length, Claude having spoken a few words, this voice appeared to strike him.

"But—” he said, "excuse me.-It is probable that I am mistaken. However-Would Monsieur be-"

He did not venture to continue. He felt, that if he were mistaken, the object of his blunder might be little flattered by it. And then Claude visiting Bourdaloue! Claude making a third with Bossuet!-It was a dream.

"I think that Monsieur is not mistaken," said the minister. "It is then you, who-at Charenton-"

He did not yet venture to speak out the word, the thing appeared to him so improbable.

"But yes-" said Claude.

"Well," cried the marquis, looking alternately at Bourdaloue and at him, "when I entered the house of the first preacher of the age this evening, I did not look forward to meeting there, the second also !"

The first, the second-and Bossuet? It may be remembered that we have already said what the opinion of the public was in regard to him. In ceasing to count him among the preachers,

it was thought that an honor was done him. No one could be further from wishing in the least to underrate him, than M. de Fénélon.

The future bishop of Meaux could not, however, conceal a slight movement of surprise.

"You have heard M. Claude preach !"

And the tone in which these words were spoken, indicated a mingling of various feelings. First, astonishment. He knew that Claude was no mean preacher; but he had never imagined that a Catholic, a connoisseur, could give him thus the first rank after Bourdaloue. It was wounded vanity; could he entirely resign, even for a position reputed higher, his former renown as an orator? Could he sincerely subscribe to the honor, which it was imagined was paid him in leaving him out? So much for his feelings as a man ;—but there were also those of the bishop. It was, as may be easily understood, a very natural displeasure, that felt by a zealous Catholic, in learning that one of the most distinguished men of his church, had entered a heretic place of worship, and had not only entered, but been gratified there. The Jansenists were good Catholics, judging, at least, by the ve hemence of their attacks against the Protestants; but a party may be interested in exaggerating the distance which separates it from a certain other party,* and in this case, the animosity displayed, proves more affinity than repulsion. Among the hundred and one propositions condemned in 1713, in the Bull Unigenitus, there is more than half to which Calvin might have subscribed. The more Jansenism resembled the Reformation in

* It is on this account, that the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and the persecutions against the Jansenists themselves, so closely followed the debates of 1682, when the Pope had been so insulted. Loudly accused by Rome, of having destroyed, or wishing to destroy Catholic unity, Louis XIV. found it very convenient to renew it at the expense of the Protes. tants and Port-Royal.

some points, (and these points were by no means the most unimportant,*) the more important it was considered for it to distinguish itself from the Reformation as a whole; but these tacticst escaped the observation of none, and could only serve to excite the distrust of the strict Catholics. Add to this, that the Jansenists gave themselves airs of independence little in accord with the respect which they professed to entertain for the decisions of the church. If they supported Catholicism, it was rather as a doctrine of their own choice, than as the received religion, imposed authoritatively, and accepted with submission. Free examination of the Scriptures existed in fact among them. They were Catholics at Port-Royal, as one was Calvinist at Geneva. They were then Protestants with the exception of their doctrines; and the presence of the marquis in the place of worship at Charenton,-even if he had entered it but once, could not be an isolated and unimportant fact in the eyes of Bossuet.

"Have I heard M. Claude !" replied M. de Fénélon; "a whole Lent-"

"A Lent!" said the minister laughing. "I did not think that I had ever preached Lent sermons

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"An old habit," resumed the marquis; "I meant to say all the Sundays of a Lent. It happened thus, gentlemen. It was two years ago; I was passing the winter at Paris. My friend the Duke de la Forcet heard me lamenting one day, that there

*“It is useful and necessary, at all times, in all places, for all sorts of persons, to study the Scriptures."-LXXIXth Condemned Proposition. The reformers themselves, did not say more than that.

Tactics which, it must be confessed, were sincere; there was an unarfected horror, at the same time, with this secret affinity. The Abbé de Saint-Cyran never opened a heretic book without previously exorcising it by making a sign of the cross:

Son of him who almost miraculously escaped from death, on Saint Bartholomew's day.