cardinal, I did not know him. Besides, Master Vatar was then alive, and I had no chance of obtaining his post. It was only the day before yesterday I heard of his death, when I was returning from seeing Julian off in the St. Germain coach. Bythe-way, he has not yet returned." "No, uncle," said Jeanne, "I cannot think what detains him;" and her eyes wandered anxiously towards the quay. Master Roullard fixed his eyes steadfastly upon his niece. "Ah, yes," said he, in a testy tone, "'tis easy to make you anxious about Julian Noiraud. You have not put that fine project of marriage out of your head yet?" "My mother approved of it," replied Jeanne in a very low voice. ent. "All very well; but my views for you are differI intend to give you a fortune which will entitle you to marry a rich man, and Julian has not one hundred crowns of his own." "He may make a fortune- "Yes, by some miracle, I suppose,' replied the goldsmith, ironically. "Does he expect it from that Italian adventurer, who formerly lodged in his parents' house, and became his sponsor,-Captain Juliano, I think his name is?" Jeanne was saved the trouble of replying, by her uncle being summoned into the shop to attend three gentlemen. These were the farmer-general of the revenues, Jean Dubois, M. Colbert, and the governor of Louvré. All three were partisans of the cardinal, and by no means in the habit of dealing with Roullard; but they had heard of some beautiful pieces of plate which he had just finished, and they came to see them. The goldsmith overwhelmed them with civility. He ransacked his shop for articles to suit their taste, interlarding his polite speeches with protestations of devotion to the cardinal. He had just laid aside for Messrs. Colbert and Dubois several rich pieces of plate, considerably reduced in price, in honour of the purchasers' adherence to the cardinal; and he was commencing a fresh palinode in praise of his eminence, when the shop-door was suddenly opened, and a young man of pleasing appearance, with a frank, open countenance, entered. He laid on the counter a small packet, and having saluted the three gentlemen and his master, said, -"Good evening, sir; you must have been surpised at my not returning yesterday; but M. De Nogent detained me to repair his silver cabinet." "Ah! you have seen the count?" said Colbert; "How is he?" from interested motives, a partisan of the cardinal, yet by no means disliked to hear him turned into ridicule; "I admire good political squibs, and I am making a collection of Mazarinades." "Just like our master," said Noiraud. "M. de Longueville's valet has given him copies of all that have appeared." The goldsmith tried to stammer forth an angry denial, but his words were drowned by shouts of laughter from his three visitors. Turning angrily therefore towards his clerk, he asked him what the packet contained which he had laid on the counter. "Some printed papers, master, sent you by M. de Nogent." "Satires on his eminence, I'll warrant them!" cried the governor. "Out of my house!" exclaimed the exasperated Roullard. And taking Julian by the shoulder, he thrust him into the street, flung the packet after him; and after ordering him never to return, concluded by shouting, "Long live Monseigneur Mazarin!" Greatly astonished, and not less enraged, the young man walked on with the luckless packet in his hand. His dismissal was in itself a matter of little consequence, for he was an excellent workman, and would find it easy to obtain employment; but a rupture with Jeanne's uncle threatened to destroy his prospects of marriage, and the thought of this he could not endure. Walking slowly on, he cast his eyes on the packet which he mechanically held. "Wicked cardinal!" he said to himself; "he is the cause of all! But for him Master Roullard would not have been vexed,-I should have still been in his employment, and probably would one day have married Jeanne !" While thus soliloquizing, he idly opened the packet, and began to examine the pamphlets it contained. They were satirical remarks on the Spanish war, squibs against the Mesdames Mancini, Mazarin's nieces, and finally, a malicious biography of the cardinal. Julian was carelessly casting his eyes over the last, when he suddenly started and trembled. He had just read the following sentence: "Before entering into holy orders, Cardinal Mazarin had wielded the sword. He commanded a company in 1625; and the pope's generals, Conti and Bagni, charged him with a mission to the marquis de Cannus. His eminence met at Grenoble, and sojourned there two months under the name of Captain Juliano." Again and again did the young goldsmith read these words with strong emotion. Name, place, and date, precluded all uncertainty: Julian found himself the godson of the great cardinal. Hastening towards the splendid dwelling of Mazarin, Julian inquired for an old playmate of his, who now filled an office in the cardinal's kitchen. Pierre Chottart received him kindly, but after the first exchange of civilities, asked him what he wanted. Julian replied that he came to see his emi nence. The sub-cook laughed heartily, and told him that was quite out of the question. "I who speak to you," he said, "although I minister to Monseigneur's appetite, am never admitted to see him." "Is that the prime minister's chocolate?" said Julian after a pause, looking at a silver pot standing on a stove. "Yes," replied Chottart; "I am going to pour it into this china cup; then I will ring for a footman who will reach his eminence's apartments by yonder staircase, and will place the tray in the hands of his own valet." Having then prepared the chocolate in all due form, Pierre Chottart hastened into an adjoining room to procure a damask napkin. His temporary absence inspired Julian with a sudden thought. Seizing the tray, he ran up the staircase, traversed the corridor, and opening at a hazard the first door Le saw, found himself actually face to face with the great man. The cardinal, who was in the act of writing a letter, held his pen suspended, and looked with astonishment at the flurried, unliveried individual before him. "What is this?" he said, with the slight Italian accent which he never totally lost. "Who are you? What do you want?" "'Tis his eminence !" exclaimed Noiraud, placing the tray on the table. "Ah! now I am all right. Good morning, godfather!" The cardinal rose and seized the bell-rope, thinking he was in company with an escaped lunatic. "You don't know me then?" said the young workman. "Well, no wonder; I was but a fortnight old when you saw me last, in 1625." "I really don't know what you mean," replied his eminence, still more confirmed in his first conjecture. "I mean," replied Julian, "that I am the son of Madame Noiraud, of Grenoble, in whose house you lodged for two months, when you were a captain, and for whose son you stood sponsor, and had named after you." "I think I remember," said Mazarin, "but this boy "It is I myself! Julian Noiraud, of Grenoble ! As soon as ever I discovered that you were Captain Juliano, I hastened to come to you. Are you quite well, godfather?" There was something in the young man's gay simplicity that caught Mazarin's fancy, and he asked to see the documents which should substantiate the statement. Julian first handed him his certificate of baptism, which he always carried about with him, and then frankly told him all that had occurred. "And what do you want with me?" asked the cardinal, coldly. "I thought that as your eminence has so often saved France, it would not cost you much trouble to save a poor boy like me." Mazarin smiled, and placed his hand on his godson's shoulder. Come, poverino," he said, "I will do something for thee." "You will purchase a court dress." "Yes, godfather." "You will lodge where you please, and I will grant you an important privilege.' "Ah! thank you, godfather." "You may proclaim to all the world that I am your godfather." And was this all? Julian felt terribly disappointed, but he had the good sense to say nothing; and the cardinal dismissed him, desiring him to attend his levée on the following day in a befitting costume. Obeying this latter injunction cost poor Julian nearly all the gold pieces he was worth; however, he was afraid to disobey his eminence. "Many people," thought he, "are rotting in the Bastille for a less offence, so I must e'en do as I am told." On the morrow our hero failed not to present himself in the great man's antechamber, dressed in a second-hand court suit, which certainly gave him quite the air of a gentleman. Several persons asked each other who he was, but no one knew, until at length, one voice exclaimed : "I protest, 'tis Noiraud!" Julian turned round and found himself facing Master Roullard. "It is he, and in a court dress! What makes you here, idler?" "I am waiting for his eminence," replied Julian, with a careless air. 66 'So, Master Roullard," said Dubois, "this is really the saucy apprentice whom you dismissed yesterday? Whan can he want with the cardinal?" At that moment the great minister appeared, making his easy way through the obsequious throng. Perceiving Julian, he smiled graciously, tapped him familiarly on the cheek with his glove, and said :"Well, poverino, how dost thou feel to-day?" "Quite well, thank you, godfather.” One might have fancied that this one word contained a magic spell, for instantly there was a general sensation amongst the crowd. All eyes were fixed on Julian-every voice murmured : "Monseigneur is his godfather!" Leaning familiarly on the young goldsmith's shoulder, the cardinal paced up and down the room, frequently addressing him familiarly, and laughingly asking his advice touching the requests which were made by various suitors. Julian, half-bewildered, contented himself with replying : "Yes, godfather,-no godfather," And the courtiers admired what they regarded as his prudent reserve. At length, the audience ended, and Mazarin retired, after having audibly desired his protégé to come to his private study in the afternoon. Scarcely had the minister disappeared, when an obsequious crowd surrounded Noiraud. Amongst the rest, the commander of Louvré, drew him aside and said : "Allow me to congratulate you, my dear M. Noiraud, on the great good fortune which has befallen you." Julian stammered out his thanks. "His eminence loves you much, and will, I am certain, do anything you ask. Will you then have the great kindness to speak a word in favour of my nephew, who is seeking the command of a regiment?" "I?" "He will obtain it, if you will give him your interest." "I am sure, I should be most happy,"-Julian began. 66 Enough, enough!" cried the commander, pressing his hand. "Trust me, if the affair succeeds, you will find us not ungrateful." The Sieur Dubois next took him by the arm. "I have a word to say in your ear, M. Noiraud," he said. "You know that I am seeking the monopoly of commerce in the Windward Isles: if you procure it for me, I will pay you six thousand francs!" "Six thousand francs!" exclaimed the astonished Julian. "You don't consider it enough" replied Dubois. "Well, I will go as far as ten thousand!" "But," said Noiraud, "you are strangely mistaken as to my influence; I have no power whateverDubois looked keenly at him and released his arm. "Ah! I see how it it is," he said "my rival has spoken to you already." "Sir, I declare "Well, well, I try elsewhere,-we'll see how far your new-made influence extends." Ere Julian had well recovered from his astonishment, he found himself once more closeted with the cardinal, who had sent for him. Mazarin asked what troubled him, and the young man told him. "Bravo! bravo!" said the minister, rubbing his hands. "Since they want you to protect them, caro, why you must e'en do it." "What!" said Julian ; "am I then, godfather, to solicit for them?" "No, no! no solicitations; but just allow them to think that you have influence, and that will pay." "Then godfather, you wish me to accept Accept always, Julian: you must never refuse what is given you with good will. If you do not repay the givers with good offices, you may with gratitude." Noiraud retired in a state of unbounded astonishment. Nor was this feeling diminished by the receipt, two days afterwards, of a bag containing three thousand francs, with a letter of thanks from the commander, whose nephew had just been made a colonel. Presently afterwards, the Sieur Dubois entered. "You have carried the day, M. de Noiraud," he said, in a tone of mingled respect and ill-humour,"My rival has obtained the privilege. I was wrong to struggle against your influence. Meantime, here are the ten thousand francs,-take them, and use your all-powerful interest for me on the next occasion." Julian tried to refuse this munificent present, saying that he was quite a stranger to the affair, that he had not meddled in it at all. But the farmergeneral would not even listen to him. "Good! good! cried he, "you are discreet. His eminence has forbidden you to compromise himI understand it all, only promise me that on the next occasion you will speak favourably of me." "As to that," replied Julian, "I promise it with pleasure, but " Enough! cried Dubois. "I trust to your word, M. de Noiraud; and on your part if you should ever be at a loss for a few thousand livres, remember that I have them at the service of the cardinal's godson." Julian failed not to relate all this to his patron, who rubbed his hands again, and ordered him to keep the sums bestowed on him. These were soon augmented by fresh largesses from the courtiers. It was of no avail for the young goldsmith to protest that he did not possess the influence imputed to him. His most vehement denials served but to confirm the general impression; and after some time he found himself a rich man. Meanwhile the affairs of Master Roullard had declined sadly. Having failed in his attempt to become goldsmith to the court, he yet lost by it the custom of the cardinal's enemies; and thus between two stools he came to the ground. Under these adverse circumstances he sought a reconciliation with his quondam apprentice. His overtures were joyfully met half way. Julian's heart and affections remained unchanged, and Master Roullard was now most willing not only to give him his niece in marriage, but also to yield up to him his business. When the happy Julian brought his young wife to the cardinal, the latter took him playfully by the ear, and said, "Thou didst not expect all this when I granted thee as thy sole privilege permission to call me godfather?' "No," replied Noiraud, "I was far from imagining that I should owe everything to that title." "Because thou didst not know what men are, piuiolo," said the cardinal. "Trust me, we succeed in this world, not on account of what we are, but of what we appear to be." SOMETHING TO LOVE ME. SOMETHING to love me, something to bless, Something to love me, something to pet,- THE AMERICAN "STUMP." What is the first product of American civilization? It is not a church, for that takes time. It is not a school-house, for that requires children. It is not a jack-knife, for that being a matter of the first necessity, Jonathan always has one in his pocket wherever he goes. It is not even an axe; for although he would sit down and whittle out a handle, if that was all, yet he will not be quite ready to put a steel head to it of his own manufacture. The first product of American civilization is, as was remarked-what? The answer has doubtless been anticipated by all. It is evidently a stump. What is the first intellectual product of American civilization? A man to get upon it and make a speech; it may be about shooting the Indians, or building the church, or school-house, or choosing a representative, but a speech on something or other. The stump speaker is the father of American civilization.-Dr. Holmes. ORDERLY PEOPLE. There are persons who are never easy unless they are putting your books and papers in order-that is, according to their notions of the matter; and hide things, lest they should be lost, where neither the owner nor anybody else can find them. This is a sort of magpie faculty. If anything is left where you want it, it is called litter. There is a pedantry in housewifery as well as in the gravest concerns. Abraham Tucker complained that whenever his maidservant had been in his library, he could not set comfortably to work again for several days.-Hazlitt. Printed by Cox (Brothers) & WYMAN, 74-75, Great Queen Street, London; and published by CHARLES COOK, at the Office of the Journal, 3, Raquet Court, Fleet Street. us have a look at some of these dull machines, and see what they are, so that when we walk among them we may see to which we are or are not indebted for our illumination. All institutions are lanterns; and what dusty old piles of them there are in which the light went out years and years ago. That great abomination of a Chancery Court, which long ago promised the people the light of justice-how, long you may look through its dirty panes without.seeing the slightest glimmering of a flare. Open the door and look in; mind you do not go too far, or you may never get out again; you might get entangled in those strong cobwebs of delay which, century after century, have gathered in the corners. You might get smothered in that dust-heap of precedent which term after term has piled so high. You might get engulfed in that pool of contempt which is thick and slab with the life-drops of many victims. You might break your shins over legal stumbling-blocks, which abound hereabouts. You might get lost in the impenetrable darkness; but not the faintest shine of the taper of the dead justice which used to burn there could you find. So, shut the door,-come away, give the tenants warning to quit, and then consign that rotten old mass to the lumber-room of memory, where they store the worn and lightless old lanterns of the past. LANTERNS WITHOUT LIGHTS. LANTERNS do not always presuppose lights. This is illustrated by a quaint old story to be found in one of the historians. The governor of an old Breton town, to prevent robberies and murders by night, for which his town was somewhat too famous, issued an order that no man should be out at night without a lantern. To order in those old times, when the will of authority was law, was to be obeyed. The Bretons in question, however, were a litigious, quibbling people, and there were not wanting those who cast about for means to "keep the promise to the ear and break it to the heart." One of them fell on an ingenious method of doing that which many do to-day, -he kept within the letter of the law and set its spirit at naught. Only a few days elapsed before a man was brought before the governor for disobeying the order. He pleaded not guilty, and produced from beneath his cloak a lantern. But it had no candle in it. Well, the edict said nothing about a candle; it said a lantern, and a lantern he had. The quibbler was dismissed, and the edict amended. Thenceforth the citizens were to carry lanterns and candles. A few more days went over, and again the same man made his appearance at the justice seat, charged with offending against the new law. Not guilty, again said he, and bringing forth the identical lantern, immediately opened it, and exhibited the candle it contained. But it was not lighted. Well, the edict said nothing about the candle being lighted. Again he was set at liberty, and the law altered once more. We presume that thenceforth the order was obeyed, for there the narrative ends. Take another specimen. Some hundreds of years ago, pious men raised stately edifices, where priests were to worship and choristers to sing; and attached to them schools where, to use the language of the statutes of one of these foundations, "poor boys" were to be instructed "in virtue, learning, and manners." There was a glorious lantern-there light for generation after generation! As years have rolled on the funds of these places have grown with the prosperity of the nation till the light might spread over the land far and wide. Where are these beams whose radiance ought to penetrate the deepest nooks, till in no corner the darkness of ignorance remained? Take a peep at one of them. Is it not a stately pile? Pass through the old door, with its groined porch; up through the colonnade of arches, where flowers blossom perennially in the sculptured stone; on to the dim chapel, where the light comes in sobered and mellowed through the stained panes, where apostles stand in halos of glory. Listen to that prayer drawled forth. Hearken to that peal of the As old fables have a moral, so most old stories have a practical application. This Breton tale is not an exception to the general rule. We are an enlightened people, living in an illuminated age. Never were there such numbers of lanterns as there are now. Everybody hangs out his own, of horn or glass, as the case may be; rusty or polished, glaring with bright reflectors, or without them. But when we come to examine them, how many are there like the lantern of the old Breton, without tallow, or oil, or gas? how many furnished with combustibles, but not lighted up? how many more burning away briskly, but as dark as the bull's eye when the policeman turns the case and shuts in the flare. Let magnificent organ. Dwell on that swell of the whiterobed choristers. Glance over that two or three who form the congregation. That drawler is a canon, who gets perhaps a thousand a year for one month's duty. That organist is a doctor of music, so scantily paid that he must take pupils to that old organ to eke out an existence. Those choristers are workers who are so poorly remunerated that they must go from their singing to their work to earn to-morrow's dinner. Splendid old lantern-but lightless. No, stay a moment; let us look a little deeper and further. There is the school; perhaps the flame burns there: away there, then. Here it is; but we do not see the light yet. The teacher is a grave man-" M.A." of one of the universities; well qualified to teach "learning, virtue, and manners." But where are the "poor boys" who are to be instructed? Nowhere that we can see. There are no fustian jackets; no tattered trowsers; no coarse dirty pinafores, such as poor boys are wont to wear. It is all broad cloth and polish, "purple and fine linen,"-Dives somehow installed into the place reserved for Lazarus. This one is the son of the squire; that of the alderman; that other of a rich merchant. Where are the," poor boys?" How is this? That grave, learned gentleman, the master, is in much the same position as the stinted organist and the pinched choristers. He has, besides his house and schoolroom, a "salary" about equivalent to that of a well-paid footman. He is a "gentleman," with a "genteel" wife and a "genteel" family. He has a position to keep, and an appearance to make. He must do something to maintain his standing. So, while the chapter perseveringly winks all its eyes, he turns the free school into a "seminary for young gentlemen," and makes a decent income by teaching them "learning, virtue, and manners instead of the "poor boys." Poor old lightless lantern! What shall we do with that?-sendthat to the lumber-room too? No, no; set to work and clean it out; sweep away the cobwebs; clear away the dust; turn out the bats and owls; scare the moths into the open air; light up the old fire again, and make all so bright that it may direct us and attract posterity. Functionaries are lanterns: some of them burn brilliantly, but others have lost their lustre so long ago that it has gone out of memory. Their name is Legion. Pluralist clergymen who never see their parishes, of which they only hear or think as sources of £. s. d. Holders of sinecure offices, who, like the registrar of the Prerogative Court, do nothing but receive their salary. Officers of state such as the champion, who used to throw down the glove at the coronation, when acceptance of the challenge would be destruction; and all sorts of lords and ladies carying sticks of all sorts of colours, and filling offices without a shadow of duties attached to them,-all of them lanterns without lights. Time we had a rout among all the live and dead lumber,-sweeping out those which are hopelessly useless, polishing up and illuminating such as have some sparkle of use yet left in them. Passing from state and ecclesiastical lanterns to those of a more private kind, we may say books and newspapers are lanterns, and taken altogether, do their duty of lighting the world better than most of their fellows. But there has stolen into some of the ranks of literature that mysticism which sets gracefully enough upon the Germans, but awkardly upon us English. The sentences are, as Emerson said, like that immense helmet which an ancient hero took so much pains to crack, and found inside a brain no bigger than a walnut. Wade through pages of this and come to no result, or at all events none worth having, and then make up your mind that they are lanterns without light. The newspapers for the most part are bright; but their glimmer is sadly dimmed by the black streaks of faction and the dim panes of party feeling, so that their light is but chequered and uncertain. Orators are lanterns: but here are to found the darkest of lamps. Is an abuse to be denounced? what energy of declamation-what a depth of vituperation. Is a grievance to be made known? how eloquent is the catalogue of wrongs. Is a mistake to be exposed? how sharply does the irony flow forth. But is a remedy to be propounded,-ah! that is a different matter altogether. That requires something more than denunciation or eloquence, or irony; it calls for light, and that is just what the lantern wants. Other orators, again, are not altogether destitute of a glimmering, but they get into an atmosphere too dense for them; and like the old lady who tried to light herself home in a fog and fell into a ditch, their taper misleads instead of directs. Another class of orators have indeed light enough, but it does not serve their purpose to show it. They have objects to attain which would not bear the noonday glare, and so they turn the slide and make the darkness only still more visible. Friends are often very dark lanterns. They do anything but enlighten you with their advice. They are capable enough and ready enough to show you when you are wrong; but ask them to point out the right, and notice how their lucidity vanishes. Great authorities in private circles often belong to the same genus; they are the cousins of the oracles of old, which made light still more perplexing than darkness they hear your tale or your question; they nod their heads wisely or shake them still more sagaciously; they smile mysteriously, they frown dogmatically; and then they deliver their opinion, that if things were as they are not, you should do as you cannot, and there they leave you, in greater obscurity than ever. Sometimes we meet with men who, you are told, gather together vast piles of knowledge, as the miser gathers together his gold. They never open their mouths to give you a sample of the wisdom reputation assigns to them. You may think over itwonder at it-admire it, but you cannot get a glimpse at it. The popular phrase is, that they want "drawing out;" but drawing a badger is a pleasant and easy task by comparison. Sometimes you have to penetrate through awkward bashfulness,-sometimes through timid reserve, sometimes through egotistical surliness; and when you have done that you sometimes find that at the bottom, mystery is the only wisdom, and that they verify the old adage about " a still tongue making a wise head,"least the appearance of one. -or at Such are some of the public and private lanterns without light which we have among us, while many of those which shine so brightly that all the world can see, give no light to their owners. Many a man's genius is to him what a candle is to one who holds it in a vast dark hall. It hinders him from seeing and only enables others to scrutinize him. Whatever we have to do with lanterns it will be well to see that they are not shams,-that they do carry lights within them; and those who have lanterns of their own may almost as well hide them under a bushel as attempt to make them guide others before they can see by them themselves. If we want the world to be properly illuminated, we must trim the beacons that are burning,-set fire to those which are capable of burning, and for the rest raise the war-cry of "Down with the lanterns without lights." |