tion of their fellowmen
caused a grief almost too heavy to be borne. But Vincent knew

How far high failure overtops the bounds
Of low success.

He could afford to leave his work and theirs in the hands of God. He
had done what he could, and God asks no more of any man.

Chapter 10
TROUBLES IN PARIS

The Parliament at last took up the matter; men went about the streets
of Paris shouting "Down with Mazarin!" A revolution was feared, and
the Queen, with her young son, fled to St. Germain. The Royal troops
in the meantime, under Conde, were blockading Paris; the rebellion
known as the "Fronde" had begun.

Vincent de Paul was in a difficult position. His sympathies were
wholly with the suffering people; but, although it had long ceased to
meet, he was still a member of the Council of Conscience and owed
allegiance to the Royal party.

What would become of the poor in Paris if the town were reduced to
famine? This was the thought that was uppermost in his mind. On the
other hand, he had always insisted that the Congregation of the
Mission should in no way mix itself up with politics. The life of its
members was to be a hidden life of prayer and labor for souls. The
safest course was obviously to remain neutral and take no part in the
matter; but his own safety was the last consideration likely to move
him. Was it his duty to remain silent? That was the vital question.
Could he do any good by speaking? Long and earnestly did he pray for
guidance and, without a thought of the consequences to himself,
decided at last to act.

Judging of others in the light of his own straightforward honesty, it
seemed to him that if it were once clearly represented to the Queen
that it was Mazarin's presence alone that prevented peace, she could
not fail to see that it was her duty to force him to withdraw.
Surrounded as she was by courtiers who did not dare to tell her the
truth, she might be ignorant of how much she herself was to blame in
the matter. He had shamed her into doing what was right in the matter
of the Bishop of Poitiers. Might he not succeed in awakening her
conscience once more?

It was on his knees in the Church of St. Lazare that Vincent resolved
on the action that was at best only a forlorn hope, but still worth
trying. With his usual prompt energy, the old man of seventy-three
mounted his horse and, accompanied only by his secretary, du
Courneau, set out for St. Germain. The Seine was in flood and the