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The life of Françoise de Foix, Countess de Chateaubriand, the first love of Francis the First, is one of the numerous instances of the exquisite misery which ever befals a woman of lively temper and a quick feeling heart, if her steps swerve from the straight path of virtuous duty. Vain in such cases is it for either seducer or seduced to look for happiness or domestic bliss on one side there is contempt, and on the other distrust, that poisons the very springs of peace. was in vain that the Countess of Chateaubriand bestowed on the profligate Francis all the faithful tenderness and true attachment that would have given felicity to a virtuous and legitimate union; she was made to feel how impossible it is for a human being to cultivate at once the kindly affections that are the reward of the good, and at the same time lead a life of sin. The virtuous may enjoy a happy serene existence; the vicious may partake of pleasure, and in a hardened, apathetic state may, till the painful close of life draws near, lead a prosperous and reckless course for many years: VOL. V.-No. 1.

Beaumont and Fletcher's "Knight of Malta." but woe, tenfold woe, to those who love virtue and practise vice-those who halt between two masters, who love and sigh for a participation with all that is noble, chaste, and high-minded; whose hearts, inclinations, and every natural impulse yearn for fellowship with the good, and the spirit of good, while they measure their steps in the path of evil, and their associates are profligates devoted to the power of evil. The fierce contentions between the good and evil impulses of such mixed characters, occasion most of the intenseness of misery in human life; and the struggle often ends in dreadful worldly misfortunes, loss of health, a broken heart, or insanity. The good, from principle, find peace here, and heaven hereafter; the bad from principle, find pleasure perhaps here, though assuredly a hell hereafter; but those who vibrate between the spirits of good and evil, whose affections are with the first, and whose life is with the last, seem peculiarly devoted to misery in the present state of existence, and their sufferings are such as to render even this world a place of torment. It is easier

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for men to unthread the entanglements of sin and Satan, than woman; for, notwithstanding all that has been said of the superiority of man's intellect and strength of mind, it is evident that woman was meant for the good angel, the guide, the example, and the reward of her partner; and that, if she fall from her high estate, by yielding to the temptations of a creature of far grosser inclinations and less self-control than herself, for such man assuredly is, she sinks below even his moral standard, and can but very, very, very seldom indeed regain that of the pure and good of her own sex.

Without this sort of reasoning, it seems a perfect enigma in the direction of Providence, why such amiable and tender characters as the Countess of Chateaubriand, and the unfortunate la Vallière, should meet with sorrow and misery, while their wicked and insolent rivals, the Duchesses d'Estampes and Montespan, who had not half their loveable qualities, should pursue a long career of prosperous and flourishing vice. But it is not to be wondered at that those whose hearts are devoted to wickedness, should meet with more worldly success in the undivided devotion to their mode of life, than those whose natural tempers were attached to virtue, and who shrink with horror at every step they take in vice. A woman who loves wickedness, and is skilful in the practice of every fiendish art, is far more likely to retain a hold on the inclinations of a selfish corrupt man, than one who is heartbroken with remorse, and shuddering with self-abhorrence, by which internal suffering her beauty is blighted and her vivacity destroyed.

If we may believe the chronicler Varillas, the seduction of the beautiful Countess de Chateaubriand cost Francis the First more trouble than a monarch usually finds with ladies brought up in the demoralising atmosphere of a court.

The Countess de Chateaubriand was daughter of a younger branch of the semi-royal house of Foix: her three brothers were soldiers, who had already shown themselves worthy of the valiant line from which they sprang, but they had very little other possession than their swords and an honourable name; and their beautiful young sister, Françoise, was wholly portionless. Jean de Laval, Count de Chateaubriand, a wealthy relative of the house of Foix, offered the

young lady his hand, and espoused her when she was only twelve years of age, which was certainly a time of life when a girl is better fitted to choose a doll than a husband: nevertheless, Chateaubriand being a young man of talents and high spirit, there was more chance of happiness for the fair Françoise, than is usually found in marriages where the lady's inclinations are not consulted. As the young countess approached womanhood, the fame of her beauty reached the court of France, and the king often asked the Count de Chateaubriand why he never brought his lovely bride to ornament the court circle. This was a step that Chateaubriand never intended to take, as he was far from thinking the company of the noble ladies at the court of Francis would improve the character of his innocent and happy wife, who seemed perfectly content with her retirement in his patrimonial castle in Brittany. It was indeed necessary that Chateaubriand should occasionally appear at Paris to pay his duty to the king; but whenever he came to court it was always solus, and at last he became alarmed and annoyed at the importunate inquiries of the king after his lady. His jealousy was roused, and he had recourse to a precaution that was in accordance with the romantic turn of that age. He had two rings made,

exact counterparts of each other: one of these he gave his countess, and the other he kept himself, and charged her never to obey any message or summons from him when he was at court, without it was accompanied by that ring; because he thought he might be compelled to write a letter to invite her to Paris, which she was to refuse, as if from her own distaste to such scenes, unless the counterpart of her ring was enclosed in his letter. The countess promised obedience, and Chateaubriand departed for Paris with a lightened heart.

Francis soon began his jesting railleries and reproaches upon the count for the absence of the hidden beauty of Brittany. He assured the king that it was her own dislike to leave the country, that kept her away from Paris and the court; in proof of which he offered to write any letter the king might dictate to request her appearance, providing that the king did not insist on the young lady's inclinations being forced. Francis took him at his word, and the