to Fontainebleau, to attend upon the Duchess of Bourbon in the small-pox, and prevent her husband, his grandson, from exposing himself to the infection. A rather remarkable trait of his candid temper has been preserved by La Bruyère: "On lui a entendu dire Je fuyois avec la même grace qu'il disoit Nous les battimes."

Henri-Jules, the hero's son, has had remorseless delineators in Madame de Montpensier, to whom he was a suitor in early life, in the Duc de S. Simon, and in the Marquis de Lassay, who, being married to the natural daughter of this Prince, spent great part of his life in the Condé circle. A small, thin, eager man, restless, capricious, and passionate even to insanity, keeping all around him in a ferment with his changes of place and humour, insatiable in his curiosity about trifles, dark and suspicious in his dealings with others, without affection, generosity, or gratitude for any human being, associating chiefly with his valets, and yet, when he chose, irresistible in the grace and fascination with which he could play the courtier or the host, and abounding in penetration, wit, taste, and fancy: such a being does this scion of the Bourbons stand out to us on the kaleidoscope canvass of the Siècle Louis Quatorze. Unlike his father, he possessed considerable ability for everything except for war. If he had a speciality in his talent, it was for organizing and adorning the outward shows of life. Chantilly was the romance of his soul. What Versailles was to Louis XIV., that Chantilly was to the Condés,—and more, for they had something of the poetry of genius in their composition, which the King had not. Day by day Henri-Jules might be seen walking through the grounds, followed by a troop of secretaries, to

whom he dictated the scenic transformations which commended themselves to his mental vision. In his last moments, when all Christian men desired that his soul should be occupied with more solemn thoughts, Chantilly" tilly "ses délices," as S. Simon emphatically terms it was still the topic of his failing speech, and he exhorted his son concerning the fulfilment of his schemes for the embellishment of this paradise of earth, while the baffled priest stood silent at his couch. His behests were accomplished, not by his son, however, who died only a year after him, but by his grandson, that Duc de Bourbon who was Prime Minister of France under Louis XV., and who, not less fierce and dissolute than his predecessors, lavished more show and wealth on Chantilly than even his predecessors had done.

The eccentricities of Henri-Jules during the latter part of his life amounted to derangement. It was whispered that a horrible lycanthropic mania had got possession of him, and the remoter apartments of Chantilly would echo with sounds like those of wild animals. Then he fancied himself dead; and his physician, Finot, in order to prevent him from actually killing himself by starvation, had to invent tales of dead men who, in their exanimate condition, could still perform the function of mastication. But this worst phase of the petty despot's existence did not set in till after La Bruyère's death. While the philosopher continued an inmate of his household, he displayed, along with his imperious and unhappy temper, some qualities calculated to recommend his society to a man of genius. And he had a familiar friend in La Rochefoucauld.

Of the Duc de Bourbon, La Bruyère's pupil, the Lucile to whom he addresses his profound religious

meditations in the concluding chapter of Les Caractères, we have descriptions from S. Simon and from Madame "He was considerably smaller than the

de Caylus. smallest men, says S. Simon, had a big head, a countenance "qui faisoit peur, a yellow complexion, and impetuous manners. Though furious and dissipated, he seems to have possessed practical ability, and some justice and generosity of soul; and S. Simon testifies to his displaying the results of "an excellent education." He was married when a mere lad to Mdlle. de Nantes, a mere child, one of the King's daughters by Madame de Montespan. Clever, witty, and spiteful when she grew up, this princess queened it at Chantilly and at St. Maur, fancifully called "Mauritanie," her husband's château, where he loved to exercise the landscapegardening passion of his family, as well as the taste for literary discussion which he shared in common with his wife.

Such were the successive chiefs of the great House to which La Bruyère's days were given: "les Altesses à qui je suis, to use his own expression. To form an idea of what were the ordinary conditions of retainership in such a service, it may not be amiss to glance at the pathetic description of one who knew them well, the Marquis de Lassay:

"To speak always to your princely masters as to sick people, telling them only such things as are pleasant for them to hear, never to be off your guard, but to be always complaisant and respectful, whatever the state of your own humour or health may be to bear with the insolence and get involved in the petty intrigues of their valets; never to expect from the great themselves any kindness or favour, save when

one happens to be actively useful to them; and all this as life wears on, and liberty and easy-chairs become necessary to one's happiness; such conditions," says this veteran expert, "does life wear to the hangerson of a petty court. And he adds, impressively, "Il y a trop d'inégalité dans un tel commerce pour qu'il soit aimable."

Ste. Beuve has remarked that La Bruyère must have derived invaluable profit, as an observer, from being closely connected with this family of brilliant gifts and strong peculiarities. He himself calls Chantilly "l'écueil des mauvais ouvrages," and he may occasionally have been saved, by the keen criticism of his masters, from solecisms in matter or style. But the suggestion of M. Fourrier that the young Duchesse de Bourbon had a direct share in the merits of his work is in the highest degree improbable; for it must be remembered that, at the time the first edition was put forth, this lively lady was but fourteen years old; and, however witty and satirical nature may have made her, it must have been a very precocious damsel indeed who, at such an age, could mould the expressions of a clever writer. It was possible, no doubt, that she might have exercised some influence over the later recasts of his work; but even when the last appeared she was barely twenty.

That the personal qualities of the Condé princes should find their record in the pages of so sharp-sighted a domestic moralist, was, of course, to be expected; although that they should be so frequently and freely brought forward, argues either an odd blindness of perception on their part, or, what is more likely, a daring and whimsical contempt of the ordinary regard

to human approbation. May it not have been this last quality which, in spite of other drawbacks, attached La Bruyère to their service, and made him feel more at ease and lord of his own utterances with them than he could have been if bound, with the courtiers of a more exalted sphere, to the most undeviating flattery of the ruling presence? Still it required tact and a certain science of sarcasm to prevent his thrusts from striking too home. Thus his strokes of satire are often dispersed and mingled among other irrelevant traits, and often disguised in strangely involved ambiguities; and the student of the Caractères has his discernment smartly tasked when hunting up a bit of the Great Condé here, and of Henri-Jules there, and of the younger princes and duchesses in various hints more or less distinctly traceable. The character of Emile, in the chapter headed "Du Mérite Personnel," is, no doubt, intended for the Great Condé, partly by way of direct description, and partly of subtle contrast. Scipio Emilianus was the parrallel suggested, as having, like the victor of Rocroy, united the love of letters in retirement to his military prowess. But in making his Emile a perfect hero in all respects, La Bruyère did not intend barefaced flattery of his very imperfect model; he merely insinuated, alongside of the traits which properly belonged to it, certain others taken from the character of Marshal Turenne, who, "sincère pour Dieu et pour les hommes," was, in many points, the very opposite of Condé, and whose merits, thus brought in, as it were, to cover Condé's known defects, gave rather an ironical than a laudatory turn to the sketch.

Prince Henri-Jules is alluded to in many detached hints of character. We see him in Téléphon, the