Few readers probably would guess the instrument which Barrow here declares so fit to carry the fame of his hero over all the realms of earth and air: be it then known that in these sonorous verses he alludes to an enormous bell, the largest ever suspended in frame-work, with which the Cardinal adorned his tower, and which was called after its donor's name, Georges d'Amboise, like our Tom of Lincoln. It was cast in 1501 by one Jean le Masson, who is said to have died with joy at his success in the attempt, not living to hear its sound when it was first swung in 1502 by sixteen sturdy ringers.* Its diameter at the base was 30 feet, and its weight 33,000 pounds; that of its clapper being 1838 pounds, which occasioned its fracture, when it was rung in 1786 on the occasion of Louis XVIth's paying a visit to Rouen.† Quitting with reluctance this monster of sound, which he has celebrated in notes deep-mouthed as its own, our traveller resumes his journey along the beautiful banks of the Seine, studded with woody isles, in the direction of Paris. As he proceeds southward, he remarks, what is still observable, the appearance and gradual increase of vines, succeeding to the apple-trees of Lower Normandy. of Geoffrey Plantagenet, were removed in 1736, as interfering with the works then going forward: they have since been destroyed; but there still remains a beautiful monument erected to the Duke de Brezé, grand Seneschal of Normandy, by his celebrated but faithless spouse, Diana of Poitiers. * Pommeraye, p. 50. This clapper is said to be still preserved; but the bell itself was taken down at the Revolution, and melted for the purpose of casting cannon. Sic dum pomiferis celeres excedimus arvis, When he enters the Elysian valley of Montmorency, whose fields glow with the ruddy purple of the cherry, added to that of the grape, Paris, the present goal of his desires, opens to view, and he abruptly closes the poetical part of this epistle. In the remaining portion, he modestly proposes to supply this defect by the addition of some bungling prose. An inspection however of his composition will soon show that the character given of it by himself is not to be relied on ; for though his rich and exuberant flow of genius does at times overwhelm his taste, and judgment, and discretion; though he often exhibits sentences inaccurately constructed, or employs words of inferior latinity, and phrases not quite analogous to the rules of syntax; yet he has the language fully at command, dives into its deepest recesses, and, as it were, exhausts its energies in the boundless variety of his expressions. In this part of his dispatch from the French capital Barrow discovers such a close attention to passing events, such a keen discrimination of character, and such a remarkable insight into political causes and effects, that it seems probable, if he had early addicted himself to such pursuits, he would have made a great statesman, especially if honesty and integrity be considered an addition to pre-eminent abilities. Very few years before his arrival at Paris, Louis XIV. had been set free from the restraints of his minority, and the troubles of civil war: the tranquillity of peace, says our author, had succeeded to the din of arms; fortune favored the external projects of the French monarch; and the internal face of things presented a smiling aspect to the unreflecting observer at court splendor and gallantry reigned triumphant; plays, masquerades, balls, feasts, and every other species of amusement seemed to form the chief business of life; and nothing of ill omen appeared, or was expected. Yet the keen eye of Barrow saw the elements of mischief lurking beneath the deceitful surface of things: he saw, and although the revolutionary tempest may have exploded later than was anticipated, he asks with a kind of prophetic spirit," what state of affairs can be durable, which is supported by violence? Who can preserve undisturbed the patience of a people whose very bowels are unceasingly torn by the hooks of extortion; where the minds of the lower ranks are exasperated against the nobility, by the memory of past, and the sense of present injuries; where the administration of law and justice is not confided to those who are fitted for it by integrity and legal knowlege, but where that which ought to be the reward of virtue becomes the means of gain to the avaricious; where the distribution of high offices in the army, in the state, and at the court, is not made with reference to dignity and worth, but to the price offered by purchasers; where the soldiers who hazard limbs and life for their country receive words for pay, and are happy when they obtain a tythe of the latter; where, in short, the nation is kept within the bounds of duty, not by the attractive power of benevolence towards their superiors, but by force and the reins of terror? When such a disgraceful state of things is what constantly seen, talked of, and urged as the means of excitement, what firm hope can there be of peace; lasting possession of tranquillity?" He next portrays with a masterly hand the character and fortunes of that ambitious minister, "sprung (as he observes) from the same country as the giants,"* and now at the head of affairs in France:-Rerum potitur quidam Gigantum patriâ oriundus; qui ex obscura conditionis angustiis tandem in ecclesiastica purpura amplitudinem enixus, cum principibus regio sanguine claris, fortitudine consilio et favore populari subnixis, negì ngwτelwv authoritatis et potentiæ certare ausus, ex impari congressu superior evasit. Mox cum adversâ fortunâ conflictari sustinuit, et suo culmine deturbatus, fugatus, hostis reipublicæ pronunciatus, reditum suum procurare, amissa gubernacula recuperare, adversarios successu exultantes reprimere, eorumque quosdam in ordinem redigere, alios ex arena abigere potuit: nunc in authoritatis sedem repositus, in eâ stabilius firmari videtur: præcipuos principum et nobilium sibi affinitate et necessitudine devinxit: provinciarum rectores ab ejus nutu pendent ; &c. He then goes on to expose that extraordinary avarice of the man, and that system of extortion, which may shake even this Marpesian rock, may move this Delos, axívnτóV TEG ἐοῦσαν. As an instance of the Cardinal's peculation, he describes an attempt lately made by him to debase the public money, through the introduction of gold and silver pieces called lilies. These not only contained more alloy, but were less in weight by one sixth than the current coin of the realm: great murmurs were raised not only by the * Cardinal Mazarin, of an ancient Sicilian family transplanted to Rome, was born in 1602; died in 1661. common people, but by commercial men, and by the parliament of Paris, which refused to ratify the king's edict, and even began to deliberate about means for redressing the evil. Louis however now determined to restrain this assembly, which had made many struggles for power in the beginning of his reign, within its ancient limits.* Having ordered them to attend to their proper business, and sent the chancellor to threaten them with his vengeance unless they immediately registered his edict, he banished five of their counsellors, and thus put an end to their opposition; though the quiet thence produced had a more dangerous appearance than the previous commotion. Barrow next turns to the state of theological affairs; giving a very interesting and animated account of the disputes then agitating the Sorbonne, particularly the curious disputations and judicial proceedings which had lately taken place between the Jesuits and Arnauld the celebrated Jansenist, when the presence of a bigoted chancellor,+ sent on the part of the king, and an enormous number of clamorous Mendicants who filled the hall, procured an unjust sentence of expulsion against the accused, and gave occasion to the famous Pascal for observing, in his Provincial Letters, "that it was a much easier thing to find Monks than arguments." Barrow augurs well for the security of protestantism in the realm, from a court anecdote at that time in circula Le Roi dès l'année 1655, était venu au parlement, en grosses bottes et un fouet a la main, défendre les assemblées des chambres, et il avait parlé avec tant de chaleur, que dès ce jour on prévit un changement total dans le royaume.-Hist. du Parl. de Paris, par M. Voltaire, p. 265. † Seguier. |