ing; and who knows how that will affect the opinion of the
future as to the _coup d'Etat_ of the Prince de Polignac himself? In
consequence of a whim of Shakespeare--or perhaps it may have been a
revenge, like that of Beaumarchais on Bergasse (Bergearss)--Falstaff is,
in England, a type of the ridiculous; his very name provokes laughter;
he is the king of clowns. Now, instead of being enormously pot-bellied,
absurdly amorous, vain, drunken, old, and corrupted, Falstaff was one of
the most distinguished men of his time, a Knight of the Garter, holding
a high command in the army. At the accession of Henry V. Sir John
Falstaff was only thirty-four years old. This general, who distinguished
himself at the battle of Agincourt, and there took prisoner the
Duc d'Alencon, captured, in 1420, the town of Montereau, which was
vigorously defended. Moreover, under Henry VI. he defeated ten thousand
French troops with fifteen hundred weary and famished men.

So much for war. Now let us pass to literature, and see our own
Rabelais, a sober man who drank nothing but water, but is held to be,
nevertheless, an extravagant lover of good cheer and a resolute drinker.
A thousand ridiculous stories are told about the author of one of the
finest books in French literature,--"Pantagruel." Aretino, the friend of
Titian, and the Voltaire of his century, has, in our day, a reputation
the exact opposite of his works and of his character; a reputation which
he owes to a grossness of wit in keeping with the writings of his age,
when broad farce was held in honor, and queens and cardinals wrote
tales which would be called, in these days, licentious. One might go on
multiplying such instances indefinitely.

In France, and that, too, during the most serious epoch of modern
history, no woman, unless it be Brunehaut or Fredegonde, has suffered
from popular error so much as Catherine de' Medici; whereas Marie de'
Medici, all of whose actions were prejudicial to France, has escaped the
shame which ought to cover her name. Marie de' Medici wasted the wealth
amassed by Henri IV.; she never purged herself of the charge of having
known of the king's assassination; her _intimate_ was d'Epernon, who
did not ward off Ravaillac's blow, and who was proved to have known the
murderer personally for a long time. Marie's conduct was such that she
forced her son to banish her from France, where she was encouraging her
other son, Gaston, to rebel; and the victory Richeli