Duc de Berri, after his marriage, had lived at the Elysée, but after his death, his widow retired to the Pavillon de Flore, and there by degrees gathered around her a little court, that was not silenced by the gravity of the Duchess of Angoulême. There never were two people more like than the Duchess of Berri and Mademoiselle Dejazet, the actress like in feature, like in spirit, like in rouge. may be imagined that a court thus presided over bade fair to be a gay one.

Lamartine considers Louis the Eighteenth and Madame Du Cayla as a pair of saints, and there seems to have been nothing faulty in their connexion. But it made the Salle des Gardes laugh, and gave birth to a host of anecdotes. The keeper of the seals, Peyronnet, once approached the monarch, who was, as then usual, slumbering in his chair. Louis, It startled, exclaimed the name of Madame Du Cayla, which was Zoe. Peyronnet was indiscreet enough to tell the story, and he gained from it a sobriquet. He was called Robinson Cruzoe. But one must be almost a Frenchman to understand the pun.

king's apartment against her for the rest of her days. Louis, grateful, made a will in her favor and left it on his desk. But Charles the Tenth entered his brother's cabinet, carried off all the papers, burnt the will, and made a beggarly compensation to Madame Du Cayla of a thousand a year for her life.

No one has yet written the life of the Duchess of Berri, or given a picture either of her society at the Tuileries, or her adventures in La Vendée. At least, very few and Nothing so perplexed and annoyed the very meagre sketches have appeared. Even Duchess d'Angoulême and the Count d'Artois, Lamartine, who has confined his volumes on in the last months of Louis the Eighteenth's the Restoration to much of Jerome's anecdotes life, as his obstinacy in refusing to receive the and personal portraiture, too much respected archbishop and to submit to the ceremonies the Duchess of Berri, as still living, to make which the Catholic Church imposes upon free with her name and life. But whilst dying moments. He refused, as a condeinned throwing a veil over the inhabitants of one man would the visit of the executioner. At wing of the Tuileries, he has left a most vivid length Madame Du Cayla induced him to conpicture of all that passed on the other. One sent, and in so doing closed the door of the may say, that he has applied a photographic machine to those interviews between Louis the Eighteenth and Madame Du Cayla, which he depicts with so much unction and decorum. The truth was, that Louis the Eighteenth was so weary of life and so sickened, after his being compelled to get rid of M. Decazes with the grandes seigneurs, the grandes dames, and the high priests, whom his brother would alone tolerate at the Tuileries, that Louis the Eighteenth would do nothing for any of them. Deprived of the use of his limbs, of the enjoyment of his faculties, and even of his will, the poor king lay or sat like a huge hulk, offering nothing but a passive resistance to the sea of courtiers around him. He became unmanageable, pretty much as the late Einperor of Austria was, except that the latter was from his birth idiotic, and that Louis the Eighteenth was an homme d'esprit, of whose bodily infirmities his brother took advantage, to coerce him. The same remedy was applied in both cases. A Tyrolese woman was found, who exercised a kind of fascination over the Emperor Ferdinand, and at her bidding he signed papers, and went through the formal duties of royalty. Madame Du Cayla was introduced to Louis the Eighteenth, and obtained the same influence over him. In both cases the relatives of the monarch, his old courtiers, and the priesthood, got possession of the moving power, and influenced the monarch through her.

Louis the Eighteenth devoted his Wednesdays to Madame Du Cayla. On that day no one but herself was allowed to penetrate into his cabinet, and when she retired in the evening she was observed to carry with her through the Salle des Gardes- for she loved concealment -a bag containing fifty thousand francs.

Singular to say, Charles the Tenth began his reign liberally and gayly. He restored the liberty of the press; he restored his apanage and rank to the Duke of Orleans. He courted popularity, and it was really not his hatred of the people, or theirs of him, that drove him to extremes. This was done by the royalists themselves, who went into opposition because they were indulged with office and with power. The great fault of Charles the Tenth was his not knowing how to manage a court. He was austere, too much given to priestly solemnity. Could he have gathered his court around him, given fêtes, and fallen somewhat into the ways of the ancient monarch, he might win over those royalists in his chamber who joined the liberals against him. He summoned Prince Polignac in anger, gave up everything to his gendarme, and retired with the court to St. Cloud. There was the royal residence when the Ordonnances appeared.

But it was from the Tuileries, nevertheless, that Marmont issued his orders for putting down the insurrection. The struggle of 1830 began, in fact, between the people, excited to revolution heat in the Palais Royal, and crowded colonnades of the Théatre Français. whilst the royalist officers and état major, in the neighboring wings that stretch from the Tuileries, were provoked and sent the lancers to charge them. This was the evening of the 27th.

In the afternoon of the 29th the populace

burst into the Tuileries, from whence merely | cals remained behind, and taunted the maa few shots were fired. One of them happened rauders on their mingled qualities of patriots to strike a youth of the Polytechnic school, and burglars. But the National Guard, erectwho was leading the assault. The victors ing its head-quarters in the château, cleared carried him in with them, and placed him, it by degrees even of the dregs of its late dying, on the throne, and in the actual chair occupants. in the throne-room where Charles the Tenth had so lately sat. It was thus dyed with the blood of the popular hero, ere it was broken to pieces and its tapestried cover torn down.

After a few months' hesitation and timidity, Louis Philippe took up his station in Louis Dix-huit's easy chair, although even then Queen Amelia resisted long that final, and what she thought that fatal, move.

The revolution of July has been most graphically told by Dumas, who has reproduced and reintroduced his Trois Mousquetaires, or at least two of them, in the persons of the two youths of the Polytechnic school, Charras and Lothon. The pictures are in general true, though Dumas, strangely enough, gives them the air of fable. He has preserved two most excellent and striking anecdotes. Some of the richest scenes of those days took place in the council chamber, which are well known and universally recounted. How good is the following answer of Louis Philippe to Dupin! The latter came up to the king, much huffed and indignant from some cause, no doubt for not being consulted, which, as member of the cabinet, sans portefeuille, he felt himself entitled to be. "I fear, sire," said Dupin, "we cannot live or set up our horses together any longer.' "I have been of this opinion myself a long time, M. Dupin," said the monarch; "but I had not the courage to express it."

There was an enthusiasm of honesty in those who first invaded the Tuileries. Any who attempted to plunder were certain to be shot, as was the case with the poor devil who had secreted a huge pair of scissors, and tried to get off on the pretext that it was a weapon. There was a very large sum of money in one of the cellars, but none were broken open, at least on the first day. By degrees, however, all those who had families, business, or home elsewhere, evacuated the palace; but a large body remained behind, who had none of these things, ragged, homeless wretches, who thus succeeded to the Bourbon kings in the old palace of the race. They even found a commander, pretended to form a corps, and posted guards, armed either with lances or muskets, at the different gates and exits, letting none enter without the password. The same band kept possession of the Tuileries-garden. The leader of these fellows had apparently but a shabby uniform, and the Tuileries possessed no store of such clothes. He therefore donned a flowered silk robe de chambre of Charles the Tenth, and wrote his orders from a silken can- It was droll enough, the succeeding minisopy. The cock of the band was a wonderful tries of the two bankers, neither of whom fellow, who robed himself in some_feminine knew aught of true politics, and who had but garments, and who proceeded to make a won-one idea each, Laffitte that of going on, and drous cuisine. The next day some authorities Perrier that of stopping short. bade the occupants of the Tuileries to dislodge. They presented lances and bayonets and refused. Guards were then placed outside to prevent all ingress, and it was proposed to starve them into surrender. On this they threatened to burn the château. What was to be done? Some of the Polytechnians, and of the young fellows, who afterwards formed the Garde Mobile, offered to march to the assault of the château. This offer was accepted. They were marshalled for the purpose, and the fellows inside were summoned for the last time to surrender. Surrender they would not, but they professed their willingness to treat. The negotiation lasted many anxious hours, and the Carousel was thronged with spectators, who came to see the château carried by assault. The chief condition they insisted on was the liberty of marching out in a body without any of them being searched. Amidst the boasted honesty and boasted courage of the time these conditions were granted them, and about one hundred and fifty ruffians marched with all the portable spoil of the Tuileries, and, thereby, with all the honors of war. Some of the ras

In the first year of Louis Philippe's reign and residence at the Tuileries, any one could mount the royal staircase on reception even- ings, and that was almost every evening, give his name to the huissier, and walk or take part in the business or the converse of the hour. His majesty was not the least surprised at seeing a visitor whom he had not the honor of knowing. Nor was there a master of the ceremonies to ask the impertinent question of what brought him there. Indeed, a National Guard's uniform was a passport anywhere. These citizen soldiers alone kept guard over the palace; and for a long time the officers on duty dined at the royal table. The king, however, who picked his crown out of the dust, and got his fortune by negotiation with the vilest rabble, set quietly, gradually but carefully to polish the one, set the other to rights, and restore respect to both. But the expense of keeping royal house frightened him. Louis Philippe was a man who could throw away a million upon masons, whilst he grudged francs to cook and provéditore. He accordingly introduced into the Tuileries the rule, which he

alacrity of flight. The chief ruffianry of the mob was this time kept out of the Tuileries. They were allowed to wreak their barbarous fury on the Palais Royal and upon Neuilly. The more respectable tribe of insurgents took possession of the Tuileries, under the command of the famous chess-player, St. Arnaud, who had been caissier of the "Temps."

As usual, after a revolution, the Tuileries returned to the keeping of the National Guard. The members of the Provisional Government ensconced themselves in their several ministries. And when they went to the Council, it was to the Hotel de Ville, not the Tuileries. The latter palace remained tranquil. But the revolution of 1848 had precisely the same want of a high military officer, that Louis Philippe experienced. So great is the general respect in France for such a character, that, a few days after the revolution, Bugeaud could show himself in the streets, and be well received. The great perplexity was the want of even a war minister. The Provisional Govcrnment sent to Algiers for Cavaignac, who came, and we know the consequences. He conquered for the Moderates of the Assembly; he put the people down for them; and they in return asked the people to discard him, and to elect, as President of the Republic, the future Emperor of the French. It was, after all, an inevitable choice. Still it was for the newly elect a three years' struggle, against the revolutionists on the one hand, and the monarchists on the other.

The latter entrenched themselves in the Tuileries, under the command of Changarnier. All remember the long antagonism between the Tuileries and the Elysée. All know the blinding zeal with which Changarnier carried on the war, as well as the persevering and cool adroitness of him who triumphed, and who wears the crown of his uncle in the old palace of the Tuileries.

against the idea of a senator whose sole equipage is his umbrella. Such measures at least render the imperial palace more like the abode of kings, than it had been during the time when the Duchess of Angoulême received no one but her almoner, or when Louis Philippe dined his guests at so many francs a head. The French boast of themselves, that they like égalité, and yet we find them not reluctant to admit the claim of those who boldly and proudly assert superiority.

From Fraser's Magazine.

OMNIPOTENCE.

FROM THE SANSKRIT. BY DR. BOWRING.

GOD, God alone is truth- as million sparks
Spring from the blazing fire, so living things,
All living things-all life, proceeds from Him,
And unto Him returns. He, He alone
Is glorious, formless, perfect, and unborn,
Pervading all within, without. Nor life
Nor mind is His.* His purity divine
Towers over all existence: higher still,
The life, the mind, the sense, ether, air,
That even His own almighty energy,
Light, water, and the all-containing earth,
Proceed from Him. His head the highest heaven,
The sun and moon His eyes, His ears the points
All round the zodiac. In the voids His speech,
His life the air, His bosom nature's breadth,
His feet the earth. The all-pervading He,
'Twas his perfection that created heat,
Whose fuel is the sun. The moon He launched,
Rain to engender- rain to raise the corn,
Which feeds the germinating source of life,
Whose impregnation animates the world.

Men, beasts, birds, vital airs, and corn, and
He hath created gods and demigods,

wheat;

Truth, contemplation, veneration, all
The claims of duty and the rites of law.

He, the seven orifices of the head,
With their perceptive powers, the objects, too,
of their perception, and perception's self,
He formed, and seated in the heart that life
Which revels in the organs given to all.

Napoleon the Third has certainly gained very much in public opinion, and has assumed quite another position before it, since he quitted the Elysée, and has taken up his abode in the Tuileries. Report or calumny used to represent the Elysée as the retreat of dissipation and a place of orgy. Imagination is free Oceans and mountains all proceed from Him; to draw what picture it pleases of bachelor's From Him all rivers flow. From Him all food life; but with an empress at the Tuileries, Receives its flavors, and its strengthening powers. an empress well known and admired as a mem-'T is He who to the body binds the soul. ber of the higher circles of the metropolis, His perfect Deity is all in all ! scandal has no longer a hold. The palace has Object of every holy thought, and aim been rendered far more hospitable and splen- Of each divine observance. He, supreme! did than it was even in Napoleon's time, al- Immortal He! and O! beloved one! though the taste of that day is restored, as If He be seated in thine inmost soul, far as is compatible with the ideas of this. Soon wilt thou break the bonds of ignorance, And glory in bright knowledge.

Napoleon the Third likes splendor, and show, and expenditure. He has greatly raised the salaries of all functionaries, but he insists on their spending them. He sets his face

THE PRINCE OF MADAGASCAR.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF KARL GUTZKOW, FOR THE LIVING AGE.