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Vive le Roi! His majesty is greatly respected by land, but is more beloved at sea." The Abbé goes on to account for this, by say ing that the sense of danger renders them more earnest in the performance of their duty, and that one of their highest duties is to love their king.

Choisy was by no means so mortified a man as to be beyond the reach of temptation, and he was duly sensible of the advantage he enjoyed in that respect on shipboard. "How happy (says he) am I that I have undertaken this voyage. I felt that the hand of God was in it, and I was moved to it with too much violence to be natural. I shall scarcely have offended God for two years. Alas! they will be the best years of my life! Temptations are at 4000 leagues distance, and to say the truth we have no great merit in living regularly." In another place he says, "The sea in its rage is a pathetic preacher, and father Bourdaloue would be dumb before it." To do him justice, he took pains on all occasions to keep himself in a christian disposition, and when beat at chess, he had recourse to the "Essais de Morale" to tranquillise his mind. The character of his religion was that of his country, chearful and contented. "A christian (says he) is prepared for every thing, and toujours gai!" He had scarcely arrived at Siam before he saw that the conversion of the king was in much less forwardness than had been represented. In fact, the whole was a farce planned by him or his minister Constant, to procure the reputation of an embassy from the king of France, and a commercial connection, by which, also, the Jesuits hoped to profit. From time to time some demonstrations of the king's good will to christianity were given in order to keep up the delusion. Thus we are told that he has a crucifix in his chamber, that he reads a translation of the gospel, and speaks with great respect of Jesus Christ." These favourable symptoms cause the abbé in one place to exclaim, "The king of Siam will not be damned; he has a half-knowledge of the truth; God will give him strength to follow it."

Every thing takes a sort of comic turn in the abbe's journal, and yet there is no reason to suspect that he is not in earnest. It is the character of the man and his country. Thus, describing a scholastic disputation held before the embassador by a Siamese convert, he says, "There was a Cochin-chinese deacon who did wonders, and he would not hold his tongue, notwithstanding all the clapping of hands. The Talapoin archbishop of Siam came and placed himself opposite to the respondent. He would have afforded us much pleasure by disputing, but his gravity prevented bin Remark en passant that it is a great credit to our missionaries to form scholars capable of responding at the Sorbonne. For my part, I wish they would send one of them to France to make an expectative at Paris. It would give great pleasure to M. Grandin (a famous professor of theology) to see a black face speaking so accurately de Deo uno & trino."

Besides the great affair of the embassy, the abbé had an important private business to manage, which was that of his own admission into

the

the sacerdotal order, for as yet he had only received the tonsure. He had long meditated this change in his condition, for which he gives his reasons in the Journal. "When we are weak we should not expose ourselves to danger, and I believe these holy chains will fix me in the good way. I shall no longer wish to go to the opera; and when a priest, I hope God will give me grace to live like one. I have benefices which I do not mean to quit, and am not I obliged to lead a regular life? What still further determines me is, that I see before me seven or eight months of an innocent life, with the company of missionaries to impress upon me the duties of my profession." From these reflections it appears that he did not greatly trust to his conversion. At length the time arrived for this great change. On December 7th, 1685, he received what are called the four minors, on the 8th he was made sub-deacon, on the 9th deacon, and on the 10th priest; this was, in his own phrase, "to march with a giant's step." He re-embarked for Europe on the 22d, and on January 6th said his first mass. It was two months more before he ventured to preach. Of his performance he says modestly "I did as well as I could, and the honest sailors are content with a little." In the remainder of his voyage he applied assiduously to the practice of his function.

His return gave him so much pleasure, that although he had discovered some of the Jesuitical arts which had frustrated the purpose of his mission, "When (says he) I found myself again in my own dear country, I was so glad that I bore no ill-will to any." He soon, however, experienced a severe mortification. He had flattered himself with being the bearer of a complimentary message from the king of Siam to the pope, but had been obliged to be content with one to his benefactor the cardinal de Bouillon, which he had the address to obtain. During his absence, however, that cardinal had incurred disgrace at court; and the king expressed so much displeasure at the distinction procured for him, that the poor abbé in alarm withdrew to the seminary of foreign missions in Paris. The consolations of religion were not able to reconcile him to the idea of the loss of court favour, and he meditated on the means for regaining it. For this purpose he composed a "Life of David and a translation of the Psalms," the first of which was an oblique panegyric of the king under the parallel of the Jewish monarch. He obtained father la Chaise's introduction to the royal presence, and made the offering of his book, which was graciously received. This return of favour opened to him the doors of the French academy in 1687; and though not a first-rate man of letters, he was a very useful member. He was assiduous in the business of the society, and kept a kind of journal of its transactions, and of the grammatical questions which were at that time discussed in it, with the final decisions. Such was the vivacity and natural pleasantry of his manner of writing, that he rendered even those dry topics entertaining; and though the academy did not then chuse to publish the journal, as thinking it not sufficiently grave for their dignity, a later member (the abbé d'Olivet) did not scruple to amuse the public with it.

His

His Life of David was followed by a "Life of Solomon," in which he again made an allusion to his own sovereign, in the magnificence of the Jewish king's court, and the majesty with which Solomon gave audience to the embassadors of the princes of India. His biographical pen was then employed to commemorate several kings of France, as Philip de Valois, John, Charles V. and VI. The last of these monarchs gave occasion to a stroke of freedom which proved that the abbe's natural character of fraukness was not entirely lost in the courtier's caution. The duke of Burgundy asked him how he would manage to acquaint his readers that Charles VI. was mad : "My Lord (he replied) I will say that he was mad." This was thought, at that time, an extraordinary effort of courage, and Choisy was not a little proud of it. He used to compare it with the much bolder answer of the caustic Mezerai to Louis XIV. who asked him why he had represented Louis XI. as a tyrant; "Why was he one?" said the historian. All these pieces, as well as his "Life of Saint Louis," which he afterwards composed in three weeks, were lively and entertaining, but slight and superficial; and it has been remarked that he gave the air of a romance to his works by his manner, though they were not so in their matter.

His next publication was a translation of "The imitation of Jesus Christ;" which he dedicated to Mad. Maintenon. In the first edition was a frontispiece representing the lady on her knees before a crucifix, with the following verse of the 45th Psalm underneath it: "Hearken, O daughter, and consider, and incline thine ear, and forget thy father's house, so shall the king greatly desire thy beauty:" but this passage having occasioned some satirical comments, was expunged in a new edition. He then published a volume of "Edifying Histories," intended, as he said, by being rendered as amusing as possible, to take place of the Fairy Tales in the reading of the court ladies. Their success induced him to undertake a much longer and more serious task, though in a somewhat similar spirit. This was a "History of the Church from the first establishment of Christianity to the end of Louis XIVth's reign. If, as he affirmed, Bossuet instigated him to this work, it must have been with a view of providing an ecclesiastical history for such readers as would not have entered into the subject from a graver pen. There was no fear of too much depth, truth, or philosophy from such a writer; and Choisy so little plumed himself upon his accuracy of research in this performance, that it is said, when he had finished the last volume (there were eleven) he exclaimed, "I have at last, thank God, completed the history of the church -I will now go and study it.' Although he had thus displayed at least great industry in the service of his profession, he did not obtain any higher station in the church. Doubtless, the radical levity of his character, and the recollected scandals of his youth, stood in his way; and his talents were not of that kind which could force through such obstacles. His indecent habit of wearing female apparel adhered to him even in old age; and whilst he was composing his ecclesiastical

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history he would cry, sorrowfully surveying himself, "What a painter for the Antonys and Pachomuses, the Augustins and Athanasiuses!"

His concluding work was better adapted to his style and character than those above-mentioned, It was "Memoirs for the History of Louis XIVth, not published till after his death. Though very negligent in the composition, they are interesting from the vivacity of the narration, and the natural colours in which the king and his courtiers are painted. It is true they are not in high reputation for veracity.

This singular man died in October, 1724, having completed his 80th year. Though little estimable, he was not without amiable qualities. He was kind and friendly, and seems to have been entirely free from malignity and animosity. "Thank God (says he in his Memoirs) I have no enemies; and if I knew of any one who bore me ill-will, I would immediately go to him, and treat him with so much civility and kindness, that I would make him my friend in spite of himself." But if he had no enemies, he probably had no warm friends, for the same want of energy and manliness of mind would equally exclude both.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

HONORIUS FASCITELLUS EPISCOPUS INSULANUS IN SABELLAM ROMANAM, PUELLAM LEPIDISSIMAM.

SABELLE ocelli, non ocelli, sed vagi

Soles duo minutuli:
Labella, non labella, sed corallia

Saxis tenella in candidis:

Si vos rigentum flabra ventorum horrida
Dissuaviari insaniunt,

Nec est manu vel pallio procacium
Arcere pervicaciam;

Nos perditos, qui carne molli, et ossibus

Non saxeis plane sumus,

Quonam putatis esse posse corculo?

Qua mente? nec plura attinet.

IMITATED.

Those eyes, my dear Chloe, or rather I mean

Those two little suns in your head,

Those lips and those teeth, or to make myself plain,
Those corals of white and of red,

Provoke, as you face it, the winterly blast,

To run riot in hopes of the bliss,

Nor

Nor your hand nor your veil can prevent him at last
From rudely obtaining a kiss.

Then how can you think we can let you alone,

We mortals of mere flesh and blood,

With hearts in our bosoms not harder than stone?

It would be very strange if we could.

R:

TO AN EXOTICK.

TENDER nursling of my care,
Hast thou brav'd the wintry blast,
Batt'ring sleet, congealing air,
Thus at Spring to droop at last?
Many a night-storm howling drear
Vainly rag'd around thy shed,
Many a keen morn's breath austere
Fail'd to bow thy shelter'd head.
Ah a counterfeit of Spring,
Soothing with deceitful breath,
Hid beneath a zephyr's wing,
Shafts of winter, shafts of death!
Phœbus lent a treach❜rous ray,
Luring confidence and joy,
Luring only to betray,

Warming only to destroy!

Then thy soft dilating heart

Gave its shoots and lost its fears;
Swift the phantom hurls her dart,
As in clouds she disappears!

Gentle alien to a sky

Ever varying in its state,
Tho' its native, still must I
Share thy feelings and thy fate.

As contending winds prevail
In the elemental strife,
Straining, slack'ning they assail

All the trembling strings of life.
Sinking then, my languid eyes
Fail my spirit to amuse;
Wearied, fainting, e'er they rise,
Exercise my limbs refuse.
While as ev'ry season's course
In the change of one we see,
Ere 'tis seen, I feel its force,
Shrinking, withering, like thee!

E. A. LE NOIR.

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