by a sort of political violence; but her address extinguished all opposition. Having dissolved the assembly, whose deliberations she feared might tend to abridge the regal privileges, she convoked them to meet again in the following May. Between Montmorenci and the princes of the blood, a powerful combination had been formed: Catherine exerted herself to dissolve a confederacy which she suspected might set bounds to her authority regardless of the means by which her purpose might be effected, she recalled to court the late mistress of her husband, whom she ordered to essay on the constable (her ancient friend and adherent) her powers of persuasion. Diana obeyed, and this her last public act was crowned with success. The ceremony of the coronation of Charles, delayed by these dissensions, was at length performed at Rheims, with the customary magnificence. The wounds of the state were not to be healed by this pageantry; while the ambiguous conduct of the regent, by spreading an universal distrust, tended to irritate the malady. In opposing to the power of the great lords the king of Navarre, she affected to favour the reformed religion, while the constable was by her influence secretly prompted to complain of the innovation. Too weak to suppress by force the numerous parties by which the state was distracted, she substituted in its stead cunning and artifice: but her talents, though great, fell short of her purpose; the fire she had flattered herself with being able to fan or extinguish at pleasure, blazed forth to the destruction of her son and the kingdom. Between the prince of Condé and the duke of Guise a feigned reconciliation had taken place; while the king of Navarre had, in the assembled states, renounced his pretensions to the regency. Catherine, acquainted with the human heart, knew how to flatter its propensities; she had subjected Navarre, by an allurement adapted to his voluptuous and indolent temper. Among the most beautiful of her maids of honour, she selected one, who served as her instrument on this oceasion. The states being opened with great solemnity at St. Germain, the young king, seated on a throne, was present at the debates: his mother was placed by his side, and, on his left hand, his sister the princess Margaret. Catherine returned her obligation to the king of Navarre by an avowed patronage of the calvinists. This seeming par tiality, in which conviction had no share, was the result of a profound political hypocrisy, which was equally displayed at the disputations of Poissy, where a vain attempt was made to accommodate these religious dissensions. A fatal and bloody quarrel, which accidentally took place, between the retinue of the duke of Guise and the calvinist inhabitants of Vassy, a little town in Champagne, whose devotions had been disturbed by the train of the duke, hastened a rupture between the contending factions. The prince of Condé demanded of the regent justice and reparation for what had passed: distressed by this requisition, Catherine promised him satisfaction. The duke was accordingly commanded to repair instantly, and unattended, to court; but with this mandate he refused to comply, and soon after arrived at Paris accompanied by twelve hundred horse. Terrified by an approach thus apparently hostile, Catherine wrote to the prince of Condé, and recommended to his protection, in terms the most affecting, herself, her son, and the kingdom. To this appeal she added a declaration, that she was held in captivity by the combined nobles. The prince, having thus a pretence to arm his associates, availed himself as an excuse of these letters of the regent's: but, being yet too feeble openly to oppose his enemies, he withdrew a second time to his seat of La Ferté-Aucou, near Meaux. Catherine, accompanied by the chancellor, carried her son to Fontainbleau, while she beheld in prospect the horrors of a civil war, accelerated by her own ambiguous policy, and which she now in vain endeavoured to avert. To prevent the effusion of blood, was no less her wish than her interest: conscious that, by joining either party, she should give the signal for open hostility, she still sought to hold her neutrality, and to adjust the wavering balance. But this conduct was no longer practicable. The duke of Guise, with a numerous train, having arrived at Fontainbleau, she again, in secret, summoned Condé to her aid; vainly flattering herself, that by his presence she would be rendered common arbitress of the disputes. But her hopes and her schemes proved alike abortive. The prince appeared in arms on his way to join her, while the confederate lords availed themselves of the occasion to make themselves masters of the person of the king; an act of violence, of which they pleaded the necessity to prevent his falling into the hands of the huguenots. This intelligence was brought to Catherine by the king of Navarre, who, observing her hesitate, declared, that he was come to conduct his sovereign in safety to Paris; roughly adding, that if she chose not to accompany him, she was at liberty to remain alone. No time was allowed her to deliberate on this important measure. Charles, turning towards his mother, as if to enquire her sentiments, and observing her constraint, and that she dared not reply, burst into tears of indignant resentment. Unable to resist, he suffered himself to be conveyed weeping to Melun, and thence to the capital, while the queen yielded to a violence against which she saw no redress. Every artifice had been previously exerted, but without effect, to procure liberty for herself and her son; she had even prepared a boat in which she meant to have carried him off during the night. On finding her schemes defeated, she wisely determined to yield with a grace; mounted on horseback, with the king and her two younger sons, surrounded by the triumvi rate and their attendants, on the third day of their journey she arrived at Paris. Finding all her projects overthrown, and foreseeing a civil war, Catherine had, during her journey, preserved a gloomy silence; while the duke of Guise, regardless of her distress, or the tears of the king, who felt himself a prisoner, in |