a midnight ramble to other haunts of pleasure in the capital--the
lower the better. Such was the way in which Philippe of Orleans, Regent
of France, spent his nights. A few hours after the carouse had ended he
would resume his sceptre, as austere and dignified a ruler as you would
find in Europe.

It must not be imagined that Philippe was the only Royal personage who
thus set a scandalous example to France. There was, in fact, scarcely a
Prince or Princess of the Blood Royal whose love affairs were not
conducted flagrantly in the eyes of the world, from the Dowager Duchesse
de Bourbon, who lavished her favours on the Scotch financier, John Law,
of Lauriston, to the Princesse de Conte, who mingled her piety with a
marked partiality for her nephew, Le Kalliere.

As for the Regent's own daughters, from the Duchesse de Berry, to
Louise, Queen of Spain, each has left behind her a record almost as
scandalous as that of her father. It was, in fact, an era of corruption
in high places, when, in the reaction that followed the dismal and
decorous last years of Louis XIV.'s reign, Pleasure rose phoenix-like
from the ashes of ruin and flaunted herself unashamed in every guise
with which vice could deck her.

It must be said for the Regent, corrupt as he was, that he never abused
his position and his power in the pursuit of beauty. His mistresses
flocked to him from every rank of life, from the stage to the highest
Court circles, but remained no longer than inclination dictated. And the
fascination is not far to seek, for Philippe d'Orleans was of the men
who find easy conquests in the field of love. He was one of the
handsomest men in all France; and to his good-looks and his reputation
for bravery he added a manner of rare grace and courtliness, a supple
tongue, and that strange magnetic power which few women could resist.

No King ever boasted a greater or more varied list of favourites, in
which actresses and duchesses vied with each other for his smiles, in a
rivalry which seems to have been singularly free from petty jealousy.
Among the beauties of the Court we find the Duchesse de Fedari, the
Duchesse de Gesores, the Comtesse de Sabran at one extreme; and
actresses like Emilie, Desmarre, and La Souris at the other, pretty
butterflies of the footlights who appealed to the Regent no more than
Madame d'Averne, the gifted pet of France's wits and literary men, the
most charming "blue-stocking" of her day. And all, without
ex