Philip, Duke of Orleans, was a very clever be impossible to force him back again upon man; whereas Louis XIV., who was a the Normans; but, by the credit of his model of virtue in comparison with him, father, he was made Intendant of Guienne. was a very stupid one. St. Simon had be- There he absolutely ran riot in despotism gun his career at court when the latter was and tyranny to such a degree, that he imalready old, when the men around him were posed and collected taxes from the unhappy old too, and there was little possibility people subjected to his administration by that any prominent position should be his own private will and authority. The found in the Versailles hierarchy for a young town of Périgueux remonstrated. The new comer. But the Regent had need of only reply they got was that the tyrant the best help he could get. And accord- threw the sheriffs of the city into prison! ingly, as Henri Martin writes,*"Among The town sent deputies to the court to comthe intimate counsellors of this prince, plain; and they besieged the cabinet of the Regent, there was one who was sin- the Duc de Noailles, the Regent's minister, gularly contrasted with all the others, for two months, without ever being able with those accomplices of the Palais Royal to get beyond the antechamber. The minsuppers, whom Philip, the fanfaron of crime, ister was a friend of Courson; and knowhonoured, after his fashion, by naming ing very well what the deputies from Périthem his Roués, because, as he said, they gueux were there for, endeavoured to get deserved to be roués † This friend, who rid of the matter by tiring them out. But was frequently to be seen with Philip in by good luck, the Comte de Toulouse, the morning, and never in the evening, was one of the natural sons of Louis XIV., the rigid, caustic, and religious St. Simon." whom Duclos calls "parfaitement honnête In whatever way, however, St. Simon, homme," happened to hear of the affair, by his counsels, may have operated for and mentioned it to several of the Regent's good with the Regent, or striven to do so, council, and especially to St. Simon, who it was certainly not by any tendency to hated the Duc de Noailles, and who always turn from despotic, and towards what may put his whole heart into everything," be called constitutional, as distinguished mettoit à tout la plus grande vivacité. The from despotic forms of government. For first day, accordingly, on which the Counthe noblesse de la robe, the Parliament, cil met after that, St. Simon asked the Duc formed the only existing body in which any de Noailles suddenly when he thought that check on arbitrary power could be sought. he should be able to finish that Périgueux And if "adoration for the dues-et-pairs affair? - - at the same time saying enough was the first article of St. Simon's faith, on the subject to show that he knew all the second was contempt for the Parlia- about it. ment and the gens de la robe." His first counsel to the Regent accordingly was to assemble the ducs-et-pairs, and obtain their adhesion to his assumption of the regency, in utter contempt of the legality which required him to have recourse to the Parliament.

All the members of the Council turned their eyes on De Noailles, who stammered out that the affair was one which required much examination, and that other matters of more importance had hitherto prevented him from attending to it. St. Simon, backed by the Comte de Toulouse, said that nothing could be more imBut here is another instance of the man-portant than to ascertain the truth or falsener in which his influence with Philip was hood of accusations which had kept citizens used, which shows the old aristocrat in a three months in prison. Whereupon the more favourable light. It is related by Regent ordered De Noailles to report on Duclos in his Mémoires."§ One Courson, the matter on that day week. On the day the son of the Intendant, or, as Duclos named, the minister came to the councilwrites, of the despot, of Languedoc, had room with a very full bag of papers; and been made Intendant of Rouen. There St. Simon asked him whether the Périgueux his tyranny and extortions, the "brigan-affair was among them. De Noailles andage of his secretaries, and the arrogant swered very sulkily that it was there, and protection be accorded to them," had nearly would come in its turn. He then began by caused him to be stoned by the populace. reading some other report, and then He saved his life by flight. It was felt to another, . . and so on. And at the end of each report St. Simon said, “ • Well! and what about the Périgueux affair?" It

"Histoire de France," vol. xvii.

↑ Roue, i. e., broken on the wheel.

p. 141.

The Regent

.

was thus the first inventor of a phrase which has was an opera evening; and the Regent always went there on quitting the Council board; and De Noailles had flattered him

become common enough.

Henry Martin, ibid.

Collection Petitot, second series, vol. lxxvi. P.self that he would be able to occupy the

time, and get to the end of the sitting without bringing on the Périgueux business. At last, when the time for going to the opera came, the minister said that there remained only that affair, and that, as the report concerning it was very long, he would not deprive M. le Régent of his amusement. And with that he began to put up his papers. But St. Simon stopped him by laying his hand on his arm, and turning to the Regent, asked him if he cared so very much about the opera as not to prefer to it the pleasure of doing justice to unfortunates who implored it from him.

waiting of these poor deputies from far-off Périgueux in the antechamber of M. le Ministre coming to the ears of that "par faitement honnête homme," le Comte de Toulouse, the monstrous and audacious tyranny and robbery of the scoundrel Cour son would have remained not only unpun ished, but unredressed. And one is left to imagine what was going on without hope of redress in all the other Intendancies of France. And so the Coursons and Co. went on, rowing hard stem on, towards the Niagara ahead.

of

In all the enormous mass of writing The Regent sat down again and con- which St. Simon has left us there are persented to hear the report. Noailles accord-haps no passages in which the excellences ingly began to read in a perfect fury. But and defects of the writer can be studied to St. Simon, sitting beside him, kept his eye better effect than in what he has written of on the papers, read the important passages Fénélon, the celebrated Archbishop of after the minister, and manifested a suspi- Cambrai. He has been accused by some cion as to the fair reading of the report of rancour and hostile feeling against Fénéwhich was very offensive; but the case was lon; by others of excess in the eulogistic so bad a one, that De Noailles was obliged features of the portrait he has drawn of himself to come to the conclusion that the him. Unquestionably those who expect to prisoners ought to be released. But he find, and insist on seeing, in the celebrated excused Courson, and spoke largely of the archbishop a model of episcopal excellence, services rendered by his father. St. Simon such as the latter half of the nineteenth sharply interrupted him with the remark century understands such a character, will that there was no question about the ser- not be contented with the picture of Fénévices of the father, but about the iniquities lon which is found not only in the regularlyof the son. And he said that in his opinion designed portrait of him which St. Simon the prisoners ought to be recompensed at gives on the occasion of speaking of his the expense of Courson, the latter turned death, but in many scattered passages out of his place, and that in so public a the forty volumes. But, if we mistake not, manner as should serve for an example to the reader, who has read enough of St. his fellows. The Regent concurred in St. Simon to know him well, and who comes to Simon's opinion; who thereupon demanded the reading of him with a tolerable knowl that the decree to that effect should be edge of the times treated of, will find in all drawn up and signed at once, remarking that he has written of Fénélon a very conthat he did not dare to trust to the memory vincing proof of the truth of his statements, of M. le Ministre; - and the Regent said and the real candour of his judgments. In he was ready to sign it. Noailles took up the supreme naïveté with which he attri the pen, trembling with rage to such a butes to the rising priest, especially at the degree that he could hardly hold it. When beginning of his career, motives, schemes, he came to the words which ousted Courson and aims compatible only with the most from his place he paused. Well, write mundane ambition and the most unscrupu on!" said St. Simon, that is the decree!" lous pursuit of the objects of that ambition, Noailles looked round at all the faces of we see, on the one hand, the writer's own those present to see whether he could see absolute incapacity for comprehending that any hope of support in an attempt to modi-human life ever was, or would be, or could fy the order. Thereupon St. Simon put be carried on in accordance with a very the question aloud to each of them one by ferent standard of human conduct and prinone, and there was unanimity in favour of ciples; and, on the other hand, a faithful the punishment awarded. portraiture of that state of things which alone could have rendered it possible for such thoughts, feelings, and motives as he attributes to the archbishop to be not incompatible with the virtues with which he also credits him.

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It is to be feared that few other equally pleasant glimpses of the interior doings of that Council of the Regency can be found. By what happened, indeed, on this occasion it is easy to infer how dissimilarly matters fell out in general. Duclos truly remarks, on finishing this little anecdote, that but for the purely fortuitous circumstance of the

dif

We have ourselves no sort of doubt that the whole picture given of Fénélon in St. Simon's pages is as faithful and accurate

there a man who carried this passion to a higher degree, or pursued that object with more unremitting, constant, and universal application; and never one who succeeded more completely in his object."

He goes on to describe how gradually he gathered a little court about him. Cambrai was on the high-road to the battle-fields in the Low Countries, on which the royal game of war was then chronically played; and all who passed that way visited the hospitable archbishop, and many made that their way for the sake of doing so.

The number of people whom he had received on their passage through Cambrai, the care he had bestowed on the wounded who had on divers occasions been brought into the city, had won for him the hearts of the troops. He was assiduous in visiting the hospitals, and in attention to the smallest subalterns; hospitable to the chiefs, receiving many in his own house for many months at a time, till they were completely restored to health; watchful for the care of their souls like a true pastor; with that knowledge of the world which knew how to win their hearts and which induced many others to address themselves to him; never refusing to go to the poorest man in hospital, and caring for them as if he had nothing in the world else to do. He was not less active in providing for their bodily comforts. Nourishing soups and dishes, and often medicines, went out of his house in abundance. And, in the midst of so large a business, there was a detailed care that everything should be the best of its kind that is difficult to be conceived. It is hardly to be believed how, in consequence of all this, he became the idol of the army, and how his name was in everybody's mouth, even in the court itself."

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had accustomed them to live without cere mony, and he treated them with as little. Then he retired to his cabinet to work; then walked out of the town, of which he was very fond; at night supped with any officers who might be passing to or from the army, and was always in bed before midnight. Although his table was magnificent and recherché, and everything about him was conformable to the condition of a grand seigneur, yet there was nothing in his establishment that had not the flavor of episcopacy about it, and was not regulated in the most precise manner. He was himself an ever-present example to all around him, though one to which others could not attain; always a true prelate; always equally a grand seigneur; always, also, the author of Telemachus.""

The writer goes on at length to point out that when he died, at the age of sixty-five, there was every reason to think that at the death of Louis XIV., which was evidently approaching, the way would have been open for him for that return to the court, to influence and to power, which had been the dream and the hope of his life. He moralizes on the Tantalus-like fate which snatched this cup from his lips when nearest to them, and, remarking that it must have been hard so to die, says that it nevertheless did not seem so to the archbishop.

"Whether it were froin care for his repu tation, an object which was all-powerful with him; or greatness of soul, which de spised at last the objects it could not attain; or disgust at the world, which had so constantly disappointed him, and which he was now about to leave; or piety, excited by long practice of it, he seemed insensible to all that he was quitting, and solely occupied with that to which he was going."

It is amusing to observe that the veteran courtier is unable to conceive the possibility that any one should despise the objects of court ambition, except when inspired by

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Then, after speaking of his admirable administration of his diocese, he goes on; And with all this art and desire to please universally, there was nothing ever of meanness, of vulgarity, of affectation; nothing greatness of soul" of the same quality out of place, but everything duly adapted that animated the fox who found the grapes to the person in question. His morning unattainable. But it will surely not occur hours were passed in the business of his to any one who reads the above passages to diocese. Afterwards he received all who imagine that the writer was animated by wished to see him. Then he went to say spiteful or ungenerous feelings towards the mass, and was quick about it. Returned subject of his pen. It cannot be doubted, from that, he dined with the company in his we think, that St. Simon has in this case, as house, always numerous; eat little, and of in very many another, drawn not only a light things, but remained long at table for finished, but as truthful a portrait as he knew the sake of the others; and charmed them how to draw; and if, in doing so, he has with the ease, the variety, and natural gaiety painted himself also, not wholly in the col of his conversation, without ever descending ours which would best agree with nineto anything unworthy of a bishop and a teenth-century notions of a perfect character, grand seigneur. On rising from table, he the limning is only the more curious and remained but little with the company. He the more valuable.

From Macmillan's Magazine. THOMAS GRAHAM, MASTER OF THE MINT.

BY DR. BRYCE, OF GLASGOW.

daries of chemistry and physics. In Ġraham's mind as originally constituted there was some faculty or assortment of powers, THERE is much interest in a psychologi- so to speak, which fell at once into unison cal point of view in endeavouring to trace with inquiries of this kind; and hence out the circumstances which have deter- molecular physics became his favourite mined the great discoverers in science to a subject of research. For the conduct of particular line of study or research. But such inquiries his mind was singularly there is also much difficulty in the inquiry. fitted. He was patient, calm, sagacious; The men are not great at first, and no one an impersonation almost of calm philosophy probably observes, or at least thinks of aud pure reason, free alike froin passion recording anything regarding them. The and prejudice, the intellect and moral men themselves either do not know, or sense ruling supreme. He was a man of from various motives, fail to leave a record, simple, retiring character, neither self-asand so the early circumstances are forgot-serting, nor self-magnifying; neither courtten. The bias, we know, comes often of ing applause, nor aiming to gain a popular direct inheritance and early domestic teach-reputation. He pursued apart, in the calm ings; but in most cases the cause is very repose of a contented life, an unbroken obscure. Dr. Tyndall tells us that Faraday series of scientific researches, the results of said of himself, that he found the beginning which were sent forth from time to time to of his philosophy in the books he was bind make their own way as they might. His ing during the day, by reading them in the papers are a model of clear, logical statehours after work. Interesting and impor-nent in terse and suitable language, with tant as this information is, we desire more, now and then a momentary flash of the and of an earlier date; it does not carry us imaginative fire within, which sustained a far enough back. One would like to know ceaseless energy of work, till, alas! too why such books attracted the young appren- soon, the feeble frame-work was consumed tice, and did for him what they did not do by its own fires. for his fellow-workmen. It is most likely that Faraday himself did not know, and perhaps there are few men who do know, The mental habit is part of their individuality; it has not been induced by external conditions, and so felt to be an acquisition. It comes, doubtless, of an innate constitutional tendency or taste, which seizes on outward circumstances in harmony with the tone within; and these again react on the mind as appropriate food, giving growth and development to the inherent tendency. When this is combined with a high imaginative faculty and power of accurate perception, we have a great scientific genius.

If we might venture on a conjecture in Graham's case, in the want of all information on the subject, we would suggest as most probable the circumstances under which he studied chemistry in the class and laboratory of Dr. Thomas Thomson, in Glasgow University. Thomson was occupied at the time with an extensive series of researches bearing on the atomic theory, and in determining the combining proportions of the various elements to a new unit. His students aided in the working out of the results, and thus to Graham's view the very foundations of the science were being continually laid open. The study of the forces, the properties and play of atoms, led naturally to that of molecular force in general, to a contemplation of the great unsolved problems which marked the boun

Thomas Graham was born in Glasgow, on the 21st of December, 1805. His father was a manufacturer of light fabrics, adapted to the climate of the West Indies, and had been successful in business. At the early age of six and a half or seven years, young Graham was sent to the preparatory school of Dr. Angus. In 1814 he was removed to the High School, where he received a sound classical education under Dr. Dymock and Dr. Chrystal. During his course of five years' study in this institution, he often gained distinction in the classes, and was noted as well for habits of regularity, punctuality, and order, as for his cleverness and proficiency. In 1819 he passed on to the classes in the University, and maintained through the pres ribed curriculum of four years the reputation he had already gained. At the close of his course he proceeded to the degree of A.M. And now bis studies must have special bearing on his career in life. His father had destined him to the ministry of the Scottish Church. Two of his uncles held good livings in the Establishment; and the family had such interest as would have secured young Graham like preferment. But his inclinations were not toward this walk; and be steadfastly resisted argument and importunity, determined, as he said, to give himself to chemistry. A passion for this delightful study had taken possession of him. carried on many experiments, usually with

At home he