MISS PA]1DOE'S MARIE DE MEDICIS. * THERE is greater formal unity

in Miss Pardoe's Life of Marie de Medicis than in her Louis XIV. and the Court of France. The single subject confines the writer more closely to historical

• The Life of Marie de Medicis, Queen of France, Consort of Henry IV., and Re- gent of the Kingdom under Louis XIII. By Miss Pardoe, Authorof "Louis XIV. and the Court of France in the Seventeenth Century," "The City of the Sultan," 8m. In three volumes. Published by Colburn and Co.

events, and to personages connected with history, than when the theme permitted her to expatiate over the gossip, scandal, and pageants of a court. What is gained in critical continuity is lost in point of amusement. The biography of the Queen and Regent runs too far into history, not only of the events in which she was directly engaged, but of those which remotely affected her. These are told with a detail that would become heavy in the proper history of the affairs, and are tedious when they are out of place and disturb the attention of the reader.

There is a graver fault than that of defective plan, or a book- maker's determination to use up materials. Miss Pardoe wants the historical mind. She cannot conceive the true subjects of interest ; those essential qualities which are not only necessary to give interest to regal biography or history, but even to preserve life in a community. Henry the Fourth was, a licentious marl; the age was one of the grossest profligacy ; the courtiers were pos- sessed by a spirit of corrupt servility ; nobles of the highest rank, nay princes of the blood, were animated by a frivolous am- bition. All this is sufficiently displayed by Miss Pardoe ; but there was something more than this, or society must have been dissolved. The darling Monarch of the French, the Henry the Great of Europe, if his subjects saw their own "pleasant 'vices" strongly reflected in him, and Europe exaggerated his qualities, was something more than a fickle and unscrupulous gallant. The soldiers of the Protestant civil wars who went to battle as to a festal meeting., and were ever ready to encounter death for France, her King, their glory, their mistresses, or "any other reason why," were something more than mere frivolous courtiers. Their cor- rupt greediness was of the age ; their frivolous ambition was of the national manners—ridiculous, no doubt, but according to the etiquette then in vogue, involving points of honour and distinction just as much as a step in our Peerage or a Garter, and a good deal more than the numerous titles that attract the attention of the free and enlightened Republicans across the Atlantic. Miss Pardoe would not deny that these countervailing qualities might be found—she does not deny that there were some in the case of the King; but she does not show them—she does not exhibit any sympathy with them. Till the death of Henry the Fourth, the reader is wearied with a succession of coarse gallantries, matri- monial quarrels, and corrupt profligacy, without ever seeing the courtly gayety and spirit which are supposed to have distinguished the chivalry of France. The narrative is not much mended from the time when Mary of Medicis assumed the Regency till she was forcibly dispossessed by the intrigues of her son's favourite De Luynes, and finally, after some struggles, banished by Richelieu, to die at last in poverty— she who had squandered so many millions on folly and frippery. Miss Pardoe's conception of the whole is feminine. She has no principle to guide her ; her sentiment is her sole rule to a con- clusion, so that her judgment is continually varying. But the life silk has undertaken to narrate is pregnant with a stern moral, especially when Mary ceased to be Queen-consort and began to reign as Regent. In this capacity she systematically neglected every duty, to indulge her own vanity and ambition. To secure her own superiority, she sacrificed the ancient counsellors of her husband ; she squandered the public treasure ; she set up a female system of politics, which had no other end than balancing one set against another set ; and she designedly abandoned her son to igno- rance, neglect, and poverty, whilst she was lavishing his treasure for her own purposes. The direct result of this conduct was, that an obscure minion of the youthful King was the cause of her first downfall; the remote consequence, that her royal son distrusted her for life, and became the willing instrument in the hands of favourites or ministers to overwhelm her with misery and shame. Miss Pardoe, in her preface, exhibits dissatisfaction with the critics who have charged her with having "quoted at second hand," and 'with having drawn materials from "historical romances of the time." To prevent this in her present work, she has "carefully, and perhaps even somewhat elaborately," referred to her authori- ties in foot-notes. These authorities are sometimes omitted, and that too when they are most wanted, as in scenes and dialogues smacking of the melodramatic, and which read exceedingly like romances of some age or other. But even when a reference is given, the question of its value still remains. It is of little use to refer to memoirs of questionable authenticity or mere compilers without original knowledge and of no critical authority. Indeed, in that want of unity which arises from want of mastery of the mat- ter, this book is as deficient as the writer's Louis the _Fourteenth. Hence, continual incongruity, as if the writer took her representa- tions wholesale from her authorities, instead of exhibiting the con- ceptions of her own mind.

From the death of Henry the Fourth till the assumption of the government by Louis the Fourteenth, was in France the period of favourites. Richelieu and Mazarine were ministers; the rest were more or less minions Mary of Medicis was not without tact, spirit, orjudgment : if she could not herself originate a view, she could form just ust conclusion on what was fairly placed before her. Her own errors arose from vanity and want of firmness of purpose : but they were 'grievously aggravated by her favouritism for her foster-sister Leonora Galigai, afterwards the wife of Concini, an Italian adven- turer. The Queen was always overcome by the tears of Leonora : as regards herself Leonora's demands might have been reason- able, but there were no limits to the ambition of Concini, and, first to gain and afterwards to keep her husband, Leonora made requests that provoked alike the nobility and the people at the advance of the Italian adventurer, whilst, true to the characteristics of his

nation, Concini added upstart arrogance to undeserved promotion. That Louis the Thirteenth would not have submitted much longer to his mother's arbitrary pupilage is probable, had there been no Marechal d'Ancre in the case ; but the unpopularity of the adven- turer rendered his murder and the displacement of the Queen easy. The favourite De Luynes had persuaded the boy King that Con- cini had engaged in a plot, and he received orders to deal with the Marechal. The whole is a strange picture of the violence and sanguinary spirit of the age and nation. "De Luynes was aware that he should experience little difficulty in find- ing the man he sought, when he assured his royal master that he knew one bold enough to attempt the life of Concini : his selection was indeed already made, and he had no misgiving of a refusal. The Baron de Vitry, captain of the body guard then on duty at the Louvre, and who was peculiarly ob- noxious to the Italian favourite, returned his hate so openly that he refused• to salute him as he entered and quitted the palace, and publicly declared that no command, come from whence it might, should ever compel him to do so. Be Luynes no sooner felt that a man of this determination might be

useful, than he had sought his friendship; and now that the conspiracy had i • become ripe, he sent to invite him to an interview ; during which he assured him that the King had great confidence not only in his affection for his per-

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son, but also in his inclination to serve him when the opportunity should present itself; that he believed him capable of great deeds, and that he would confide his life to him.

"Vitry was a soldier of fortune, dependent upon his sword, and the little sentiment that he possessed was at once awakened by so unexpected a corn- munication. As a natural consequence, therefore he protested his readi- ness to risk life and limb at the pleasure of his Majesty; and declared that whatever might be the nature of the service required of him, he would exe- cute it without hesitation or remonstrance.

"On receiving this pledge, Be Luynes, after exacting an oath of secrecy . and obedience, beckoned to his companion to follow him ; and, throwing open the door of the royal closet, which was never closed against him, he intro- duced Be Vitry without further preamble into the presence of the King.

"'M. de Vitry,' said Louis, when the favourite had explained the errand of the captain of the royal guard, thank you for your zeal, and I have faith in its sincerity. The Marechal d'Ancre has conspired against my life. He must sleep tomorrow night in the Bastille.' "'Ho shall be there, Sire should the fortress still possess a bolt to draw . upon him, if it be your royal will that I accomplish his arrest.' " M. de Vitry, you will have earned a marshal's baton.' "'Sire!' exclaimed the soldier, dropping on his knee before the King, 'I will obey you to the death.' " must never again be insulted by his presence,' said Louis, fixing his eyes, which flashed for an instant with a threatening light, full upon the up- - turned countenance of Be Vitry. 'Rise, air,' he added, as he turned suddenly away; have perfect confidence in your fidelity.' "'But—should he resist, Sire? asked the new conspirator, anxious not to exceed his orders.

"'Kill him ! ' replied De Luynes, in a hoarse whisper do you not yet un- derstand how you are to earn your baton ?' "The two friends exchanged glances ; and after a profound bow, Be Vitry • withdrew from the royal closet. • "History presents few such anomalies; and it appears scarcely credible.

that so ill-organized a plot; hatched, moreover' under the very eyes of those . who were Io.become its victims, and revealed to upwards of a score of per- sons, many of whom were incited to join it from merely venal motives, should ever have attained its accomplishment. The fiat had, however, gone forth ; and the unfortunate Conch'', whose tragical fate compels sympathy despite all his faults, entered the court of the Louvre at ten o'clock in the morning of the 24th of April 1617, there to meet his death:

"An hour or two after dawn one of the gentlemen of the royal bed- chamber announced that the King having been indisposed throughout the night, the great gates of the Louvre were to remain closed, and the publie

excluded, in order that his Majesty might not be disturbed. This order did not, however, affect the Alarechal d'Anere, as he was no sooner seen to ap- proach, followed by a numerous retinue of gentlemen and attended by seve- ral of his friends, than the bolts were withdrawn, and he was permitted to pass the barrier; which was instantly reclosed, to the exclusion of the greater number of his suite. A man who had been stationed over the gate then waved his hat three times above his head ; upon which Vitry, who had un- . til that moment been seated in one of the windows of the guard-room calmly conversing with the officers on duty, immediately rose, and, drawing hus cloak closely about him, hurried down the staircase ; at the foot of which he was joined, as if accidentally, by Du Hallier and others of the conspirators, who, apparently engaged in conversation, slowly approached their intended victim. Among the persons who surrounded Concini there chanced to be several who were acquainted with Vitry, and, greatly to his annoyance he was compelled to allow the Marechal to pass on while he returned their greetings ; in a few instants, however, he again found himself at liberty, when he discovered that amid the crowd he had lost sight of the Italian.

" ' Where is he ?' he inquired, hurriedly, of one of his confederates. " 'Yonder,' was the reply ; he has stopped at the foot of the bridge to read a letter.'

"Vitry bounded towards his prey ; and as Concini, absorbed in his occu- pation still read on, he felt the grasp of a strong hand upon his arm, and, on looking up, he saw the captain of the guard standing at his aide. Before he had time to inquire the meaning of this affront, Vitrv had already uttered the ominous words i , I arrest you, n the King's name.' "'Arrest me!' exclaimed the Marechal, with astonishment, as he clutched the hilt of his sword.

"'Yes you!' replied Vitry, haughtily; and while he-spoke he made a signal, which was instantly responded to by the simultaneous report of three pistol-shots. As the sounds ceased, Coneim dropped upon his knees, and fell against the parapet of the bridge ; several weapons were then thrust into his , body ; and finally, Vitry, with wanton and rPvolting cruelty, gave him so violent a kick that he extended his body at full length upon the pavement ; where it was immediately pilfered of every article of value; among other things, diamonds of great price, and notes of hand to a large amount were abstracted from the pockets of his vest. "A few of his followers endeavoured to interpose • but in a second or two all was over ; and they were warned by the bystanders instantly to sheathe their swords, and to beware of opposing the orders of the King. They had scarcely had time to obey this bidding, when Louis presented himself at the window of a closet joining the guard-room ; to which, from its height, he was obliged to be lifted by M. d'Ornano : there, by the advice of those about him, the young King appeared with a smile upon his face ; and as the • members of the cabal raised a cry of 4 Vive le Roil' he shouted to his cap-, Min of the guard, I thank you, Vitry : now I am really a King !' Then showing himself, sword in hand, successively at each window of the guard- , room, he cried out to the soldiers who were posted beneath, 'To arms ! com- rades, to arms!'"