THE HISTORY OF A ROSE. THE moral of the following trait of Royal life in France lies in the illus tration it affords of "the good old times." It is abridged from the French of Eugene de Mirecourt. nature of our feelings towards her is not to be made a subject of discussion." "Sire, forgive my❞— "Enough!" interrupted Louis approaching a man, who, unmindful of the King's presence, had taken off his coat, in order the more easily to prune a tall flowering shrub. The gallery parallel to the course of the Seine, and which joins the Palace This was the celebrated gardener, of the Tuilleries to the Louvre, was de- Le Notre. Absorbed in some unpleassigned by Philibert de l'Orme, and ant train of thought, he had not heedfinished towards the end of 1663. On ed the approach of visitors, and continthe 15th of January, 1664, Louis the ued to mutter and grumble to himself, Fourteenth descended into the vast while diligently using the pruninggreenhouses, where his gardener, Le Notre, had collected from all parts of the world the rarest and most beautiful plants and flowers. The air was soft and balmy as that of spring-time in the South. At the right of the great Monarch stood Colbert, silently revolving gigantic projects of state; at the left was Lauzun, that ambitious courtier, who, not possessing sufficient tact to discern royal hatred under the mask of court favor, was afterwards destined to expiate, at Pignerol, the crime of being more amiable and handsome than the king. "Messieurs," said Louis, showing to his companions a long and richly-laden avenue of orange-trees, "are not these a noble present from our ancient enemy, Philip the Fourth, now our father in-law? He has rifled his own gardens to deck the Tuilleries; and the Infanta, we hope, when walking beneath these trees, will cease to regret the shade of the Escurial." knife. "What! are we out of humor?" asked Louis. Without resuming his coat, the gardener cried eagerly-"Sire, justice! This morning, the Queen Dowager's maids of honor came hither, and, in spite of my remonstrances, did an infinity of mischief. See this American magnolia, the only one your Majesty possesses. Well, Sire, they cut off its finest blossoms: neither oranges nor roses could escape them. Happily I succeeded in hiding from them my favorite child-my beautiful rose-tree, which I have nursed with so much care, and which will live for fifty years, provided care be taken not to allow it to produce more than one rose in the season." Then, pointing to the plant of which he spoke, Le Notre continued: "Tis the hundred-leaved rose, Sire! Hitherto I have saved it from pillage; but I protest to your Majesty, if such conduct be renewed" "Come, come!" interposed the Mon "Sire," said Colbert gravely, "the Queen mourns a much greater loss-arch, "we must not be too hard on that of your Majesty's affections." "Parbleau!" exclaimed Lauzun, gaily; "in order to lose anything, one must first have possessed it. Now, if I don't mistake" young girls. They are like butterflies, and love flowers." "Morbleu! Sire, butterflies don't break boughs, and eat oranges!" Louis deigned to smile at his gard "who were the culprits?" "Silence! M Le Duc. M. De Col-ener's repartee. "Tell us," he said, bert, my marriage was the work of Mazarin-quite sufficient to guarantee that the heart was not consulted." The minister bowed, without reply. ing. "As to you, M. De Lauzun," continued the King, "beware, henceforward, how you forget that Maria The resa is Queen of France, and that the "All the ladies, Sire! Yet, no. I am wrong. There was one young creature, as fresh and lovely as this very rose, who did not imitate her companions. The poor child even tried to comfort me while the others were tearing my flowers: they called her Louise." . "It was Mademoiselle de la Val-espied by the King, beneath the magliére," said Lauzun, "the young person nolia, which her companions had so whom your Majesty remarked yester- recklessly despoiled of its flowers, and day in attendance on Madame Hen- which had cost them their exclusion riette." from the féte. "She shall have her reward," said Louis. "Let Mademoiselle de la Vallière be the only maid of honor invited to the ball to be given here to-night." "A ball! Ah, my poor flowers!" cried Le Notre, clasping his hands in despair. Colbert ventured to remind his Majesty that he had promised to give an audience that evening to two architects, Claude Perrault and Libéral Bruant; of whom, the first was to bring designs for the Observatory; the second, a plan for the Hotel des Invalides. "Receive these gentlemen yourself," replied the King; "while we are dancing, M. de Colbert will labor for our glory; posterity will never be the wiser! Only, in order to decorate these bare walls, have the goodness to send to the manufactory of the Gobelins, which you have just established, for some of the beautiful tapestry which you praise so highly." The next moment the hand of Louise trembled in that of her Sovereign; for Louis the Fourteenth had chosen the maid of honor for his partner in the dance. At the close of the evening, Le Notre, who had received private orders, brought forward his favorite rosetree, transplanted into a richly-gilded vase. The poor man looked like a criminal approaching the place of execution. He laid the flower on a raised step near the throne; and on the front of its vase every one read the words which had formerly set Olympus in a flame-"To the most beautiful!" Many rival belles grew pale when they heard the Duc de Lauzun ordered by Louis to convey the precious rosetree into the apartment of Mademoiselle de la Vallière. But Le Notre rejoiced, for the fair one gave him leave to come each day and attend to the welfare of his beloved flower. The rose-tree soon became to the faAccordingly, to the utter despair of vorite a mysterious talisman by which Le Notre, the ball took place in the she estimated the constancy of Louis greenhouses, metamorphosed, as if by the Fourteenth. She watched with magic, into a vast gallery, illumined by anxiety all its changes of vegetation, a thousand lustres, sparkling amid trembling at the fall of a leaf, and flowers and precious stones. Each weeping whenever a new bud failed to fragrant orange-tree bore wax-lights replace a withered blossom. Louise amid its branches, and many lovely had yielded her erring heart to the faces gleamed amongst the flowery dreams of love, not to the visions of thickets; while bright eyes watched ambition. "Tender, and ashamed of the footsteps of the mighty master of being so," as Madame de Sevignè has the revel. The cutting north-east described her, the young girl mourned wind blew outside; poor wretches shivered on the pavement; but what did that matter while the court danced and laughed amid trees and flowers, and breathed the soft sweet summer air? for her fault at the foot of the altar. Remorse punished her for her happiness; and more than once has the priest, who read first mass at the chapel of Versailles, turned at the sound of stifled sobs proceeding from the Royal recess, and seen there a closely-veiled figure. The fallen angel still remembered heaven. Maria Theresa did not mingle in the scene; timid and retiring, the young Queen fled from the noisy gaiety of the court, and usually remained with her aunt, the Queen Mother. On this occasion, therefore, the ball was presided Thus passed ten years. At their end, over by Madame Henriette, and by the rose-tree might be seen placed on a Olympia Mancini, Countess of Sois- magnificent stand in the Palace of St. sons. The gentle La Vallière kept, Germain; but despite of Le Notre's modestly, in the back-ground, until constant care, the flower bent sadly on its blighted stem. Near it the proached the rose-tree, drew from her Duchesse de la Valliére (for so she had glove an almost invisible phial, and, just been created) was weeping bitter with a rapid gesture, poured on its ly. foot-stalk the corrosive liquid which the tiny flask contained. Her most intimate friend, Francoise Athenais de Montemar, Comtesse de Montespan, entered, and exclaimed, "What, weeping, Louise! Has not the King just given you the tabouret as a fresh proof of his love?" Without replying, La Valliére pointed to her rose. This was the third time that Madame de Montespan had practised this unworthy manœuvre, unknown to the sorrowful favorite, who, as her insid ious rival well knew, would believe the infidelity of the King, only on the testimony of his precious gift. Next morning, Le Notre found the rose-tree quite dead. The poor old man loved it as if it had been his child, and his eyes were filled with tears as he carried it to its mistress. "What an absurd superstition!" cried Madame de Montespan, seating herself near her friend. "Tis really childish to fancy that the affections of a Monarch should follow the destiny of a flower. Come, child," she con- Then Louise felt, indeed, that no tinued, playfully slapping the fair hope remained. Pale and trembling, mourner's hands with her fan, "you she took a pair of scissors, cut off the know you are always adorable, and withered blossom, and placed it under a why should you not be always adored?" crystal vase. Afterwards, falling on "Because another has had the art to her knees, she prayed to Heaven for supplant me." strength to fulfill the resolution she had made. Athenais bit her lip. Louise had at length discovered that her pretended friend was seeking to undermine her. On the previous evening the King had conversed for a long time with Madame de Montespan in the Queen's apartments. He had greatly enjoyed her clever mimicry of certain court personages; and when La Vallière had ventured to reproach him 'tenderly, he had replied "Louise, you are silly; your rosetree speaks untruly when it calumniates me!" None but Athenais, to whom alone it had been confided, could have betrayed the secret. And now, at the entrance of her rival, La Vallière hastened to dry up her tears, but not so speedily as to prevent the other from perceiving them. Her feigned caresses, and ill-disguised tone of triumph, provoked Louise to let her see that she discerned her treachery. But Athenais pretended not to feel that the shaft was aimed at her. "Supplant you, dear Louise!" she said in a tone of surprise; "it would be difficult to do that, I should think, when the King is wholly devoted to you!" Rising with a careless air, she ap. The age of Louis the Fourteenth passed away, with its glory and with its crimes. France had now reached that disastrous epoch, when famine and pestilence mowed down the peaceful inhabitants, and Marlborough and Prince Eugene cut the royal army to pieces. on the frontiers. One day, the death-bell tolled from a convent tower in the Rue St. Jacques, and two long files of female Carmelites bore, to her last dwelling, one of their strict and silent order. When the last offices were finished, and all the nuns had retired to their cells, an old man came and knelt beside the quiet grave. His trembling hand raised a crystal vase which had been placed on the stone; he took from beneath it a withered rose, which he pressed to his lips, and murmured, in a voice broken by sobs: "Poor heart! Poor flower!" The old man was Le Notre; and the Carmelite nun, buried that morning, was Sister Louise de la Misèricorde, formerly Duchess de la Vallière. Household Words. "WHAT DOST THOU HERE?" 1ST KINGS, 19th and 13th, The still small voice that in the prophet's ear In this fair world, where God has placed thy lot, ROMANCES. It is possible (says Tissot) that of all the causes which have injured the health of woman, the principal has been the prodigious multiplication of romances. From the cradle to the most advanced age, they read them with an eagerness which keeps them almost without motion and without sleep. A young girl, instead of running about Wild dreams of earthly splendor, power and fame; and playing, reads, and perpetually Are all thy hopes on that foundation stayed, In life's bright morning, 'ere the eye grows dim, Or hast thou, in the service of thy God, Or have the world's fond ties enchain'd thy heart? Has rose-lipped poesy, with syren call. Has wealth allured thee with its glittering bait? Oh! grant us, Lord, a good account to give, Hasty words rankle the wound which injury gives, but soft words assuage it, forgiveness cures it, and forgetting takes away the scar. reads, and at twenty becomes full of vapors, instead of being qualified for the duties of a good wife or nurse. These causes, which influence the physical, equally influence the moral man. I have known persons of both sexes, whose constitutions would have been robust, weakened gradually by the too strong impressions of impas sioned writings. The most tender romances hinder, marriages instead of promoting them. A woman while her heart is warmed by the langour of love, does not seek a husband a hero must lay his laurels at her feet. The fire of love does not warm her heart, it only influences her imagination. AGE OF ANIMALS.-A bear rarely exceeds twenty years; a dog lives twenty years; a wolf, twenty; a fox, fourteen or sixteen. The average age of cats is fifteen years; of a squirrel or hare, seven or eight. Elephants have been known to have lived to the great age of four hundred years. Hogs have been known to live to the age of thirty the A years; rhinoceros to fifty. horse has been known to live to the age of seventy-two, but averages twenty-five to thirty. Camels sometimes live to the age of one hundred. Stags are long-lived. Sheep seldom exceed the age of ten. Cows live about fifteen years. An eagle died at Vienna at the age of one hundred and four years; ravens frequently reach the age of one hundred. Swans have been known to live three hundred years; pelicans are long-lived. A tortoise has been known to live much above one hundred and ninety years. FIRST QUARRELS. I went to my quiet place at the stern of the boat, and turned away so that I could see only the turbid river and the dull, gray sky. It was as complete solitude as though I had been on Robinson Crusoe's raft in the midst of the Pacific. I pondered over life and its mysteries, as one does who is used to loneliness-who is accustomed to dwell, as it were, on a mountain top, seeing the world and its inhabitants move below like puppets in a show. And herein does fate half atone for ties riven, and ties never formed!-that in such a life one learns to forget self; and all individual joys and griefs, loves and hatreds, are swallowed up in universal sympathies. fact from her flushed cheek and sparkling eye, as she disengaged her arm from his. Man's patience is never eternal, not even in the honeymoon; he spoke to her firmly, while his face darkened into positive anger, and then there was a sullen silence between them. The time passed, and still they remained in the same position together; but lo! what a sea of sullen anger was between them! Neither saw the other's face; but I saw both. He stood gazing up into the leaden clouds, his mouth firmly set, and yet twitching every now and then with suppressed feeling. Was it, perchance, the bitter disappointment, almost agony, of the man who has with pain and toil built for himself a household hearth, and finds it trodden I pondered much on the two young into ruins by the very idol whom he creatures I had left below; and, woman- hoped to place there forever? A fool. like, I thought chiefly of the woman. ish girl! wishing to try your power, She seemed to me like a child toying and keep the honored husband a tyranwith a precious jewel, little knowing nized lover still. Do you think what what a fearful thing it is to throw away it is you do? When you suffer your love, or to play lightly, mockingly, own hands to tear down the fair adornwith those feelings on which must rest ments of idolatry with which his pas the joy or woe of two human souls for sion has decked you, and appear before a lifetime. And passing from this in- him, not as an angelic ideal, but a dividual case, I thought solemnly, al-selfish sullen, or vain woman, little most painfully of the strange mysteries of human life, which seem often to bestow the priceless boon of love where it is unvalued and cast away. Unconsciously I repeated the well-known words, To him that hath shall be given, and from him that hath not shall be taken away.' But my soul answered meekly, 'Only on earth, and life is not long-not long!' know you that it may take years of devotion to efface the bitterness produced by that one hour-the first when he sees you as you are! The young husband glanced once only at his wife; but that was enough. The lower lip-that odious lower lip, which had at first awoke my doubts!— was the very image of weak, pouting sullenness. But its weakness was its safeguard against continued obstinacy; and I saw-though the husband did not see-that, as she bent over the side, tear after tear dropped silently into the river. There was hope still! And turning once more to the group of my fellow-voyagers, I saw the two in whom I took such an interest. They were standing together, a little apart, leaning on the vessel's side. He was talking to her, not angrily, but grave- She was leaning over the gangway ly-earnestly. In the expression of door, a place scarce dangerous, save to his face I scarce recognized the man the watchful anxiety of affection. who had borne smilingly all her idle However, the fact seemed to strike her jests, sportive contradictions and ca. husband; for he suddenly drew her prices, an hour ago. She tried them away, though formally, and without again for a few minutes; but in vain. any sign of wishing for reconciliation. Then she hung her head, and pouted. But this one slight act showed the Soon quick, wilful answers came. I thoughtfulness, the love-oh, if she heard them not; but I was sure of the had only answered it by one kind look, |