liked books, and was never easy out of company; that he had acquired the character of a facetious companion in joyous circles; a sporter of epigrams and satirical repartee; a mimic and a buffoon; accomplishments, which we are so ready to join in and admire, at the convivial table, although in the cool hour of reflection, we dread and avoid the persons, who possess them; an axiom confirmed by daily experience, which certain young men of strong animal spirits, in the glow of a second bottle, and panting for distinction as wits, will do well to recollect and apply. With such tendencies, which had deranged his finances, D'Aubigny entered as a volunteer into the army, that last and common refuge for violent spirits under pecuniary difficulties. Guyenne, Anjou, Touraine, Normandy and Picardy were the scenes of his provincial campaigns, in which the impetuosity of youth hurried him into many imminent dangers, while the flippancy of his tongue, and the eccentric liveliness of his manners, attracted the notice and sometimes the displeasure of his officers.

On a field day, as he was ridiculing and censuring in his usual way, the aukwardness of some of his associates, in which, though correct as to the matter in question, he had neither authority nor right to interfere, his talking and loud laughing were remarked by the Prince of Conde, who demanded the name of that forward and troublesome young man. On being told, he recollected his family, sent for him, and, in a good natured way, checking his intemperate vivacity, asked the colonel, if he would spare his young volunteer, "I will make your Royal Highness a present of him with great pleasure," replied the commanding officer, glad to get rid of an unmanageable strippling. "A truce with making presents, my good colonel," cried D'Aubigny in a characteristic strain of youthful levity, "you may give away a dog, or a hawk, a valet, or even a mistress, when you are tired of her, but young men of my metal are not to

be disposed of, with so little ceremony." After thanking the Prince for his kind intentions, he politely de

clined his offer and retired.

In his twentieth year, he was introduced to Henry III. as a young man, whom neither difficulty, distress, danger, hunger, thirst or cold would prevent from doing his duty; but as a drawback from this recommendation, it was added, that he would not bear restraint or opposition, and would, on every occasion, and whatever the consequence, always speak his mind. He escaped almost miraculously the massacre of St. Bartholomew 24th, August 1572, having by accident, or from business, left Paris only a few hours before that volcano of hell burst forth. This dreadful tragedy of the unsuspecting and unarmed protestants, was instigated by the bloody Catharine de Medicis, and her son Charles IX. when, by the united efforts of despotism and priestcraft, a greater number of people perished within three days, than have fallen in France, by the hands of the Septembrisers, the anarchists and by the revolutionary tribunals, during the whole course of the late repeated revolutions, in that country. This horrible business appears to have made an indelible impression on the mind of a man, who had so narrowly escaped; for after the peace of Paris, the king being desirous of conversing with one, of whose gallant intrepidity he had heard so much, and from whose active opposition the catholic cause had considerably suffered, no entreaties could prevail on our protestant soldier to wait on the tyrant, "I will never bend my knee,' he cried "to the approver, if not the director, of the massacre of St. Bartholomew.

It was not long before our adventurer gave a specimen of the rudeness of his pen, by a sarcastic stanza on Henry's giving him a portrait of himself, for services, which D'Aubigny thought deserved a more valuable remuneration; this baggatelle penned in a moment of rash irritation may be thus translated:

Why for a thankless prince's gond,
Do brother soldiers toil?

When all he give us for our blood
Is canvas, paint and oil."

We cannot be surprised, that such a return for an intended kindness should offend the prince, and that he resolved to punish the author, who saved himself by flight; but at the moment of his departure, riding boldly to the royal tent, he spoke as follows: "Such, Sire, is your usage of a man covered with wounds, and who has shed his blood in your service, and all for what? because he will not be a flatterer or a pander. Permit me, however, before I take my leave, to communicate to your Majesty, a necessary truth, which many of these polite gentlemen, who so assiduously attend your court, will not venture to tell, tho' there is not a man amongst them, who is not of the same opinion. You are scrupulously severe in remarking the faults of your servants, but ungratefully tardy in acknowledging or rewarding their real merit." With these words he applied spurs to his horse.

The banished courtier, with a few followers attached to his fortunes, immediately resolved on offering his services to Prince Cassimir, son of the Elector Palatine; but on his journey, being struck with the charms of a lady, as he passed through a country town, his expedition to the Palatinate was thrown aside, and for a time, his military ardour cooled. This Lady, who, upon enquiry, proved to be Susannah de Zeray of the house of Vivonne, and a celebrated provincial toast, was afterwards his wife, and is often praised by him for obedience, a qualification of the utmost importance to the happiness of D'Aubigny, whom opposition appears to have always roused to an extravagant pitch of fury and resentment.

And here we hope we shall be pardoned in making a small digression. With such spirits, it seems the wisest and kindest part of friendship and affec

tion, in irritable moments, to avoid discussing dispu-. table points, and to endeavor, if possible by diverting the attention to other channels, and by the fascination of female charms, to soothe and soften, rather than fan the flames of discontent, by ill-timed appeals, and unavailing expostulation, however reasonable and just. Peculiar tempers should be treated like bodily diseases, by abstinence, regimen and diet; and the medical man, who would order a patient with weak, ancles to run a race, or prescribe for a nervous, hysterical woman, novels, tragedy and green tea,. would surely deserve reprehension. To many of our female readers, recommending condescension and submission, even when they are the party aggrieved, will probably appear a mortifying lesson; but the advantage it will give them in the cool hours of reflection, will make ample compensation for the sacrifice. A neglect or contempt of this apparently trifling point, has, in a thousand instances, hurried youth, beauty and accomplishments, to a life of wretchedness, whilst the plainest and most homely women alive, without one attraction corporal or mental, by attending to this, which, though no science, is, in some cases, of more importance than them all, have passed through life with ease, satisfaction and comfort.

But to return. Letters were, in the mean time, delivered to D'Aubigny from the king, which; affecting the pride of injured worth, he threw, unopened, into the fire. Mixing, however, a little worldly policy with his resentment, he at last returned to his master, after having received repeated assurances, that his offences should be overlooked. But he soon found, that, in his absence, the catholics had been busy with Henry, who began seriously to think of making his peace, by abjuring his religion, a circumstance which soon after took place. In this business, Monsieur Seguier, a corrupted protestant was a powerful instrument, who strongly advised a removal to Paris,

which D'Aubigny violently opposed, and, in the midst of a warm conversation, in the royal presence, observing Seguier looking out of a window, he stepped up to him and said, "Monsieur Seguier, do you perceive a precipice from the window where we stand." Yes, replied Seguier, the most timid of mortals," and a tremendous one it is. I shudder and grow giddy only with looking at it." I advise you then, Sir, to make up your mind on the subject of the king's journey. If he goes to Paris, myself and a score or two of friends have resolved, that you shall take a leap from this identical window." (Seguier drew back,) "You need not doubt what I say, it will as certainly be the case, as that God made Moses."

By this and other extravagances, Henry was again offended, and swore in a transport of passion, he would destroy him. On such an occasion, most men would have fled; but he, who had reason to expect, at least, who had merited punishment, knew whom he had to deal with. As soon, therefore, as he was apprized of the royal resentment, he rushed, with out previous notice, into the presence of the king, who reproached and threatened him, as well for the general offensive impropriety of his conduct, as the present indecency of his sudden intrusion. "I am come to know," said he, laying hold of the king's hand, "what reward I am to meet with for my past services; do you wish to be considered by posterity as a good prince, or a merciless tyrant "After a long pause, during which sensibility and affection triumphed over resentment, Henry replied, "you know D'Aubigny I love you; but what can be done with Seguier, for you have offended him beyond the power of forgiveness; pray try to make your peace with him." "That shall be done in an instant," replied D'Aubigny, who had seen Seguier, as he passed the antichamber; "be so good Monsieur Seguier, (at the same time opening the door,) as to inform his majesty, what you have to alledge against me;" with