urch, what religious dogma kings or humbler individuals may
be partial; when the relations between man and his Maker shall be
undefiled by political or social intrusion. But the day will never come
when it will be otherwise than damaging to public morality and
humiliating to human dignity to forswear principle for a price, and to
make the most awful of mysteries the subject of political legerdemain and
theatrical buffoonery.

The so-called conversion of the king marks an epoch in human history. It
strengthened the Roman Church and gave it an indefinite renewal of life;
but it sapped the foundations of religious faith. The appearance of Henry
the Huguenot as the champion of the Council of Trent was of itself too
biting an epigram not to be extensively destructive. Whether for good or
ill, religion was fast ceasing to be the mainspring of political
combinations, the motive of great wars and national convulsions. The age
of religion was to be succeeded by the age of commerce.

But the king was now on his throne. All Paris was in rapture. There was
Te Deum with high mass in Notre Dame, and the populace was howling itself
hoarse with rapture in honour of him so lately the object of the general
curse. Even the Sorbonne declared in favour of the reclaimed heretic, and
the decision of those sages had vast influence with less enlightened
mortals. There was nothing left for the Duke of Feria but to take himself
off and make Latin orations in favour of the Infanta elsewhere, if fit
audience elsewhere could be found. A week after the entrance of Henry,
the Spanish garrison accordingly was allowed to leave Paris with the
honours of war.

"We marched out at 2 P.M.," wrote the duke to his master, "with closed
ranks, colours displayed, and drums beating. First came the Italians and
then the Spaniards, in the midst of whom was myself on horseback, with
the Walloons marching near me. The Prince of Bearne"--it was a solace to
the duke's heart, of which he never could be deprived, to call the king
by that title--"was at a window over the gate of St. Denis through which
we took our departure. He was dressed in light grey, with a black hat
surmounted by a great white feather. Our displayed standards rendered him
no courteous salute as we passed."

Here was another solace!

Thus had the game been lost and won, but Philip as usual did not
acknowledge himself beaten. Mayenne, too, continued to make the most
fervent promises to all that was