It was

been much more powerful than he had imagined himself. only the events at Fontainebleau that had made him aware of it, when it was too late. But he did not complain of having learned it only when no farther advantage was to be derived from the discovery. By nature of easy temper, and early accustomed to content himself with little, he saw himself in the possession of such a rank and affluence as he had never dreamed of attaining. His diplomatic post, his influence with Cardinal Bernis, the importance which he had obtained, he knew not how, with the ambassadors of foreign powers, brought him rich presents in addition to his liberal salary. From the simplicity of his mode of life, as he contented himself without display with the sole attendance of his old and trusty Marcus, savings were heaped upon savings in his coffers. He availed himself of these, and of some fortunate opportunity, to purchase a considerable provincial estate, the income of which was sufficient to secure him an easy life.

More he did not desire. He would already have willingly exchanged his political career for the life of a country gentleman, if Pauline had not been a little obstinate against the proposal. She loved him, she gratified his every wish, except the single one of marrying him.

"You must still wait a little, Colas," said she, "and I hope you can resign yourself to it. For a girl there is a peculiar charm in being a free maiden and unmarried. There is a flattering delight in the consciousness of being surrounded, admired, and adored by worshippers. Grant a little longer holiday to my glirish vanity. As a married woman I should lose most of it. Ah, the full summer of life comes only too soon to us poor children. Then farewell, all the bloom of its spring! I should rather die than be an old maid of twenty-five!"

Nicholas consented. But nothing speeds faster than a maiden's year of bloom. The diplomatic bridal veil was then brought forth, and Pauline de Pons was metamorphosed into Madame de Rosier.

Her bridal happened to take place on the same day that the French lost the battle of Rosbach. The same post that brought that disastrous tidings to the court brought also to the young bride the following billet from the Prince de Soubise:

'Pity me, pity me, most lovely Pauline. I have suffered myself to be entrapped by the insignificant King of Prussia, overreached and beaten. Yes, you have good reason to pity me, since without fault of my own I was forced to accept the engagement. From all sides I was urged into it. And in the very midst of the contest, the cursed rabble troops of the empire deserted me. Thus it is the King of Prussia and you alone that have conquered me in spite of myself. I curse the Prussians, but I love Pauline. You wish to see me as a hero at your feet-but if I cannot be the hero, 1 still remain your captive."

Pauline wrote immediately back:

"Pity me, pity me, most amiable prince. I have suffered myself to be entrapped by the insignificant Nicholas de Rosicr, overreached and taken prisoner. Yes, you have good reason to pity me, since without fault of my own I was forced to accept the

engagement. My heart impelled me against my will. Perhaps I might have been victorious, but in the very midst of the contest my youth deserted me. Consider, I have already numbered twenty-five years, and they are worse than the rabble troops of the empire. Thus it is Rosier and my years alone that have conquered me in spite of myself. With all my heart I curse my years, but I love my gallant husband.

"To be serious, Prince, we must neither of us pine away with grief. After all, the world soon ceases to care whether a field-marshal or a girl was conquered. How many battles, how many bridals, have already taken place and been forgotten, and yet the world rolls on quietly in its old course. You will live none the less esteemed in history, than I some day in my children."

The Cardinal Bernis became deeply disheartened at the battle of Rosbach, which was soon forgotten at the court.

"I foresaw the disaster!" he said to Nicholas, when the misfortunes of the French arms continued through the succeeding year. They may make a jest of it at the court, but my honor is ruined. For France and the whole of Europe will look upon me as the author of this calamitous alliance with Austria."

"Most gracious sir," replied Nicholas, "to an experienced and wise man like you, the opinions of France and Europe ought to be perfectly indifferent, since you know yourself how erroneous the judgments of men generally are of events and their causes."

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"But I am minister, and I have been compelled to negotiate and sign that fatal treaty. It is my name that is the victim. The world and posterity will say with reason, 'who then has done this in France —who governs, then ?—if the Minister, Cardinal Bernis, does not.'” No, most gracious sir, the world and posterity will have too much sense to talk thus. Yes, you are indeed minister, as his Most Christian Majesty is actually king. But you know my views. Every man of sense knows that neither the king rules nor you govern." "What do you mean? Who rules, who governs, then? mean Madame de Pompadour?"

"Pardon me.

Do you

The marchioness is as innocent as you and the king" "Do you think so? Well, who does govern, then? You excite my curiosity. Speak!"

"I do not know who. Perhaps chambermaids, tinkers, scriveners, mistresses of Councillors of State, perhaps their daughters, or sons, or cooks, or lackeys, or coachmen, and such other trash. To-day this one, and to-morrow that. Where a firm iron law does not rule, there rules chance. Between the controlling omnipotence of law and the sport of chance, no medium exists. Ministers and kings themselves are after all only the instruments and agents of the whims of others."

"You would make me disgusted with my own post. You regard France, I suppose, not as a monarchy, but as a royal anarchy. Speak out more clearly."

"I cannot. Your Eminence has expressed my idea exactly in two words-a royal anarchy. That is to be founded everywhere where

the king is the state, and where the people exists only for the sake of that state. It is everywhere where the will of a single man is the law of the land, and where the fickle caprice of a prince makes the constitution of the realm. In fact, the will and caprice of a single man, an omnipotent arbiter, change from morning to night. Where the law, on the other hand, stands detached from royal authority, and elevated above it, there is a steady, firm government and order—nowhere else. It is as steady and firm as the interests of millions of subjects from which it takes its rise, and as difficult to change as it is difficult to unite the will and the views of legislators that proceed from the people."

"Hm! I perceive you have read the Abbé Mably, and you are with Montesquieu a worshipper of the English constitution, and perhaps one of our philosophizing malcontents."

By no means. I find myself very well off in this royal anarchy, and am modest enough to believe that in a constitutional monarchy I should scarcely have had the honor of serving your Excellency with my humble talents. You will, however, acknowledge that there is nothing more possible than that the monarch, in his decisions on the most weighty affairs, may be influenced by a mistress or a favoritethese by their favorites-these by their friends—and so downward to the boot-black. The monarch as little as the boot-black dreams that the one has so great an influence over the other."

"Trifling causes for great effects!" replied the cardinal. "I acknowledge it. But British parliaments and legislative senates do not appear always necessary to avoid that which you style a royal anarchy. A prince with a firm will for the right, surrounded by able counsellors, is better calculated to give wise laws to a nation, and to regulate the course of affairs, than an assembly of legislators from all the different ranks of the people; for the king and his ministers, in overseeing the whole, clearly perceive what is required, more accurately than the best individual talents among the people."

"Permit me, your Excellency, to doubt. And if there was a new Henri IV. upon the throne, not he alone, but every miserable tailor, every one of the humblest subordinates in the country, would have an influence on the government, and would assist in deciding the affairs of state."

The cardinal and Nicholas continued some time longer their conversation on this topic; but our readers would thank us but little if we were to trouble them with a farther relation of it,

16. THE EXILE.

THE result of this conversation, contrary to the expectation of Nicholas, was, that he from that time rose rapidly in the regard of the minister, obtained more his confidence, became his habitual companion,

and was employed in every business that was honorable and profitable without calling for extraordinary abilities of mind. A real shower of gold poured over Monsieur de Rosier's table and Pauline's toilette, diamond rings, watches, snuff-boxes, orders, jewels, chains, and other diplomatic gew-gaws.

Nicholas felt very grateful to the cardinal. "I have my good reasons, my dear Colas," said the minister, smiling, "for making use of you for matters that cost little trouble, involve no danger, and are best rewarded-that afford a harvest without the trouble of sowingthe proper employments of nobility. I wish to indemnify you in advance, if at some time or other I should bring ruin upon you."

"How bring ruin upon me, most gracious sir?" asked Nicholas with surprise.

"And you, with your simple, unsophisticated mind, are surprised? Do you not know, then, that you yourself have reminded me on what insecure ground we stand in our royal anarchy? To-day I am minister-do you know what I may be to-morrow? In truth, my friend, I myself know it no more than at the Turkish court the Grand Vizier or the Kaimakan can say whether the caprice of the Grand Sultan will permit him twenty-four hours longer in his post, or even in this world. You have the misfortune to be liked by me, because you are an honest man. It is my duty, as a friend, to provide for you. If I fall, you will fall with me; and the new favorite will fill the different posts with his own creatures."

Nicholas was moved. He attempted to cheer the cardinal with respect to the future, but he understood too well the atmosphere of courts to rely himself on his own consolations. Pauline went yet farther than himself, and said: "Colas, to-day they bow to you-that is of no consequence. If some day you fall, because the cardinal falls too, the rabble of courtiers and place-men will spurn you-this is of more consequence. Choose the more prudent part. Retire voluntarily, and take your honorable dismissal. The cardinal has intimations that have reference to more than bare possibilities. He seems to mean to give you a hint. Avail yourself of it. You will preserve for yourself the general regard. We will live independently on our estate, or enjoy the winter in Paris when we are tired of the quiet life of the country. What can we desire more ?"

She knew how to picture so charmingly the happiness of independence and retirement, and talked so attractively of the pleasures of rural life, that Nicholas did not resist a moment.

Monsieur de Ro"Where nothing

The cardinal regretted it, that after a few months sier tendered his resignation; but did not oppose it. depends on the law, and everything on the gratification of the luxuries of the ruler and his favorites, selfishness becomes natural to all; and where no man has a country, he must build one up for himself between four walls," said the minister. "Go, my dear friend, I do not blame you for this step. You have there a fine estate, a young and

beautiful wife, an independent fortune-why be a servant when you can be a master? Why not in the full bloom of your existence enjoy undisturbed the pleasures of life?"

The gracious discharge of the Councillor of State was announced, and for the faithful performance of important services was connected with a moderate though honorable pension, which Nicholas had not even thought of. He did not refuse it. Nicholas and Pauline flew

joyfully to their country estate.

Here amid a beautiful landscape, in a delightful and friendly neighborhood, they soon forgot the mazy tumult of the capital. Nicholas more enamored of his young wife than ever he had been of the maiden Pauline-Pauline living entirely in her husband-they both lived in a paradise of matrimonial and domestic happiness.

It was not long before the newspapers announced that the Cardinal Bernis had tendered his resignation to the king, by whom it had been accepted. Choiseul succeeded to his post. A short time after, as Nicholas and Pauline were one day sitting together in a bower of their spacious garden, they were not a little surprised when the figure of the cardinal suddenly stood before them. It was himself. His equipage had stopped in the outer courtyard of the chateau. He had caused himself to be shown the way, in order to come upon them by surprise.

"Happy pair that you are!" cried the cardinal, smiling, "I regret to disturb you. Yet I was resolved to behold you in the fulness of your happiness." He embraced his friend Rosier, and kissed the blushing cheeks of his beautiful bride. The cardinal was forced to spend a couple of days with them. Longer he could not be induced to stay.

"You do not know, my children," said he, "whom you are harboring. I am an exile from France. I must fly from the country of my fathers. I am going to Rome. In the arms of the Muses I will console myself as well as I may."

"How? You an exile from France, most gracious sir?" cried Pauline and Nicholas, in astonishment.

"That can be no subject of astonishment to a philosopher like Nicholas," replied the cardinal. "What you once answered, half in jest, to my inquiry, who governs, then ?-when you said, 'perhaps tinkers, Savoyards, washerwomen, and so forth'-I have now experienced in earnest. You know the mode in which the Duke de Choiseul has raised himself in the favor and grace of the king? A beautiful young girl, à relative of Choiseul, a maid-of-honor of the queen, had the fortune to please the eye of his Majesty. The young lady took it into her head to play the part of Madame de Pompadour-was no prude--and the amour took its pleasant course in secrecy. The duke knew the whole. He pretended to be blind; the king was grateful to him. As soon as the duke perceived that the fugitive amour