even with the army, he never seated himself save in an arm-chair. One was carried among his effects, and it was always the first article installed in whatever place he put his foot upon the ground, if he were to remain in this spot only an hour.

"Monsieur de Condom," he said at length, "this is the question. Madame de Montespan went this morning, to confess to a priest of Versailles,-Monsieur Lécuyer, I believe. He refused her absolution. Monsieur Thibaut here, says that this confessor only did his duty. There is Monsieur de Montausier, who is of the same opinion. These gentlemen will permit me to inquire yours."

It was not to look for Bossuet, however, that Louis XIV. had gone out. As soon as he learned from Madame de Montespan the affront which she had just received, he sent for the curé, and demanded from him, the repeal of the sentence pronounced by his vicar. The curé did not at first express himself in regard to the merits of the question; he evaded it, by saying that a confessor had no account to give, and that a curé had no authority over inferior priests in these matters. The king did not insist; he was still tolerably calm, and without discussing the point with the priest, he called the Duke de Montausier, whom he had perceived in the neighboring gallery. The duke did not scruple to speak out; he said that the confessor had done right, and the curé, seeing himself thus sustained, no longer feared to say as much. The king contained himself; but feeling himself on the point of bursting forth, he went out; and it was while walking,

them,―should fail in the respect which they owe him, makes him retain a distant manner;-and from his extraordinary benevolence, he would rather constrain himself, than furnish them with the smallest occasion for doing anything which would oblige him to be displeased with them."-BUSSY RABUTIN. If the explanation is not a good one, it must at least be confessed, that it is perfectly courtier-like.

or rather wandering in the garden, that the idea suddenly occurred to him, of summoning Bossuet.

What did he wish? What did he hope?-One is always strongly inclined to believe what one desires; but the king must have left his usual coolness a great way behind him, to allow himself even vaguely, to hope that Bossuet could enter into his views. It may even be doubted whether among so many other less scrupulous bishops, any could have been found so complaisant as to go to such a length.-It was possible for them to shut their eyes;-but it was another thing to blame the courageous priest who had dared to open his, and Monsieur de Harlay himself,* would have thought twice about it.

So Bossuet did not hesitate.

"If I could think," he said, "that your Majesty seriously hoped to find me disagreeing with these gentlemen, I should ask what I had done to fall so low in his estimation. know too well his enlightenment,his piety-"

But I

"Well," cried the king, "they agree. Because an obscure priest-"

"An obscure priest !" interrupted the duke.

"Obscure!" said the curé; "no, Sire. A priest is never obscure when he fulfils-"

66

"Well," he resumed, "because a priest has had the audacity to judge his king"

"In the name of God, Sire !" said Bossuet, "do not continue! Do not submit so completely to the passion which misleads you—”

* Archbishop of Paris. He had, however, less right than any one else to censure the king's morals; and it was for that very reason that Louis XIV., or rather Mme. de Montespan raised him to the see of Paris. It is of him that it was said, that the orator charged with his funeral oration, only found two embarrassing points,—his life, and his death. One was however found to write it,-Father Gailliard, a Jesuit; but he was not allowed to deliver it.

Louis drew himself up; this last word had offended him.

"- and which," pursued Bossuet, "you will soon be the first to condemn. A priest has dared to judge you! Alas! it is not he, but you, yourself!"

"Myself!"

"Yes-in the very words which you have just pronounced. If Madame de Montespan were only that to you, which she should be, you would not declare yourself touched by the blow of which she complains."

Bossuet felt himself in a courageous vein; he could have wished Monsieur de Fénélon to be there.

But the king no longer listened to him.

"What a scandal!" he murmured; "what a scandal !"

These words, in his mind, were only applicable to the audacity of the confessor; the moment was scarcely favorable for answering him, that there was no other scandal in the whole matter, excepting that of his own conduct. The curé made an effort.

"If your Majesty," he said, "would take the trouble to question this priest;-your Majesty would see whether the wish to cause a scandal has had anything at all to do with this action of his. I know no man more unlikely-"

"That may be; but the best proof he could have given of it, would have been to hold his tongue. After all, what difference does it make? Madame de Montespan will not commune; neither shall I; what will have been gained ?"

All this was so contrary to the usual tone, language and manner of the king, that the best thing was, to have patience, and wait for the termination of an anger, which, it might be seen, could not last long. But the wound was deep; the monarch was still more offended than the man. Habituated as he was, to find in his clergy a boundless docility,* he was indignant

*Externally, at least, for he was more frequently the led than the

now to stumble over a priest on his path. It made but little difference whether this priest were right or wrong; he was a priest, and the kingly instinct was wounded by this. Louis XIV. had no very thorough knowledge of-history, but what had most firmly remained in his memory, were the former enterprises of the clergy against the authority of the crown, and he could not suffer even the appearance of a step towards a reestablishment of the humiliation of kings.

On the other hand, he could not but feel the weakness of his cause, and this further contributed to put him beside himself. He saw this royal authority of which he had so exalted an idea, concerned in a matter where it had no hold, where it could not interfere, either legally or in deed. Left to himself, he would have distinguished better his proper part in the matter. When Madame de Montespan came to him, indignant and breathless, to relate the occurrence, he had at first appeared little enough concerned by it; it was she who had had the art to excite him, to call the passions of the king in aid of those of the man. There is no worse anger than that which comes on gradually, which is not directed towards any fixed object, and which one allows to be partially or entirely kindled by a person interested in exciting it.

Bossuet, however, after having for a moment, feared to be left alone with the king, began to desire this. He discerned what there was factitious in this anger; he understood that a frank explanation alone, could produce any result; but he also felt that the two other witnesses were in the way. stant of indecision an idea struck him.

After an in

leader;-but care was taken that he should always think himself master. Steele having published a parallel between Louis XIV. and Peter the Great, the latter was much flattered by it, but he said,-"I have subjected my clergy,—while he obeys his."

"Let us retire, gentlemen," he exclaimed; "his Majesty no longer finds our presence necessary here.”

The king, already calmer, but more and more abstracted, mechanically made the half-polite, half-imperious gesture of the hand, with which it was his custom to dismiss the people of his court. They saluted him and went out. But they were scarcely outside of the door, when the duke said to Bossuet,

"Go in again! go in again! That was your idea, was it not? I guessed as much,-go in quickly,-courage !"

And he pushed him into the cabinet.