and critical eye. This was a young lad of fourteen, armed, dressed, and mounted in all respects like Charles himself. It was the dauphin, the husband of the Princess of Scotland; of that beautiful, amiable, sensitive little girl of eleven years, whom the knight had assisted in transplanting from her native home at so early an age. The spectator sighed and shook his head as he had often done before, on perusing the features of the boy; and the gloom that settled on his brow told how deeply he regretted that the royal Scot had not matched his daughter in her own country.

The knight followed the young dauphin with his eye, till the pages of both king and prince, coming closely after, intercepted his view. The Bastard of Orleans then appeared, armed from head to heel, and both himself and horse blazing with jewels. This splendid warrior led on the "battle" of the king, consisting of a thousand lances, all armed to the teeth, both man and horse. The long array was closed by an Esquire of the Stable, bearing a vermilion lance spangled with gold stars, at the head of which there hung a standard of red silk with ornaments like those of the staff surrounding a portrait of St. Michel. After him there rolled an immense multitude of lords, knights, and bourgeois, with the peasantry, as it seemed, of the whole province; all dressed to the extent of their means, and in the fashion of their degree.

The official part of the procession having now passed, the young knight pushed lustily on after the principal personages; but not before examining, with a glance of curiosity, the appearance and costume of the various classes of the people before him. The profusion of gold and silver in the dress surprised him much, and the hoods of black or red cloth worn by the high bourgeois did not appear to his judgment to be far inferior in richness to the silk and velvet of the nobility. Short coats, although disliked by the king, were worn by many of his subjects, and were embroidered with silk, and often with pearls, both before and behind. The longer dresses were generally of two colours, called robes mi-parties, and produced in the eyes of the knight an odd and fantastic effect. The countrymen were usually dressed in brown coats and breeches, with gaiters bound with iron, and slouching hats ornamented with a leaden medal of the Virgin.

Our adventurer, who endured a squeeze with incompar able patience, speedily found himself once more within view of the persons who were supposed to form the most interesting portion of the procession. He reached the

fountain of the Ponçeau, which he found surmounted by a large vessel, covered with a fleur-de-lys spouting from its three points, pro bono publico, hypocras, wine, and water. Two dolphins (in compliment, no doubt, to their brother Louis) were swimming in the well-at least, so saith the "Ceremonial de France." A triumphal arch was then passed through, painted of an azure colour, and sprinkled with the ever-recurring fleur-de-lys. An image of Saint John the Baptist, pointing to an Agnus Dei, adorned the summit, with a choir of good fat angels, of the confrèrie of Saint Julien, flapping their wings, and playing their fiddles with all their might.

At the hospital of the Holy Trinité, the patent theatre of Paris, a stage was erected, on which the mystery of the passion was performed in pantomime; the recollection of which, however, was almost immediately effaced by other stages, and other pantomimes, which presented themselves as the procession advanced. When the Chatelet was at length gained, a great rock had grown out of the Place before it, on which a number of shepherds, tending their sheep, were in the act of receiving the news of the nativity, and singing Gloria in excelsis. At the bottom of the rock reclined three personages, whose costumes unfortunately have escaped our research; but their names were, the Law of Grace, the Written Law, and the Law of Nature. The Scottish knight, however, was more edified by a spectacle opposite the Boucheries, which represented Paradise, Purgatory, and Hell, with Saint Michel weigh. ing souls in a balance.

At the bridge, Saint Margaret and a dragon were the gate-keepers (in honour, perhaps, of poor little Margaret of Scotland, and the hereafter Louis XI.); while the baptism of our Saviour by Saint John was going on. But after entering the Cité from the broad avenue of Saint Denis, the spectators could hardly move with the procession through the narrow streets; and by the time the king had reached Notre-Dame, our knight could see little more than a multitude of black hoods, interspersed with mitres and shaven crowns. The proprietors of these articles were the Ruler of the University, the archbishop, bishops, abbots, monks, regents of colleges, monitors, sub-monitors, and students.

Here Charles took the customary oath between the hands of the bishop of Paris, to maintain the privileges of the chapter, and was then permitted to enter the church. This majestic edifice, where you see at least the memory of old Roman and Lombard taste through its Gothic romanticism,

was illuminated by thousands of tapers, although it was still daylight. The glimpse which the indefatigable Scot was able to catch of the interior, showed him three arcades running up the nave, all thickly planted with tapers, and terminating nobly with the majestic forms of the master altar. The treasury of the church was opened on this occasion, and numberless relics presented to the eyes of the people, holy enough to redeem a soul from sin by the very sight. Among them was the identical crown of thorns purchased by Saint Louis for one hundred and fifty-six thousand nine hundred livres of the money of to-day; and also the scourge of iron links with which the same pious monarch loved to chastise himself.

After prayers and thanksgivings were offered, Te Deum was given forth by the choir, assisted by thousands of worshippers. The whole atmosphere vibrated with the lofty music. As the sound rolled forth like thunder over the heads of the vast multitude assembled round the cathedral, all sank upon their knees. The neighbouring churches joined in the majestic strain, and those beyond heard and repeated it like an echo; till the same voice, the same song of triumph and adoration arose from every altar in the city, and every knee in Paris bent to the earth, while every heart repeated, We praise thee, O God! The Scottish knight, brave and reckless as he was, "daring in love, and dauntless in war" rose up trembling. A tall, black, sinister-looking object, elevated near the church, met his eye at the moment, and divided his feelings between the terrors of heaven and earth. It was a gallows, denoting the right of "haute justice" exercised by the bishop.

The great business of the day was now almost over, and Charles VII. had nothing more to do than to repair to the Palace of the Cité, and exercise the duties of hospitality to all, indiscriminately, who chose to favour him with their company. The street leading to this ancient edifice, famous long before Paris became a metropolis, was narrow and tortuous, crowded with shops, and in every way unlike the avenue to a royal dwelling. Nor was the aspect of the Palace itself a great improvement to the picture. Two sombre and narrow gates admitted the now disordered cession into the Cour du Mai, where the space was too small comparatively to afford any definite idea of the immense pile of buildings in front. Two outside staircases conducted to a great door, which seemed the principal mark of the struggling and panting multitude; and our knight, attacked at once by curiosity, and a most savoury and generous

pro.

dinner-smell, allowed himself without reluctance to be carried on by the tide.

ment.

If disappointed outside, all in the interior was enchantThe hall into which he entered was so vast and so lofty that it seemed only fit for the dwelling of giants. It was paved with white and black marble; and the roof, entirely of wood, was elaborately carved, and supported by wooden pillars of azure and gold. All round the walls were seen the statues of the French kings, with the hands raised, if the reign had been fortunate, but hanging disconsolately by their sides, if otherwise. At the further end was a prodigious table of marble, occupying almost the whole breadth of the hall, and so large, indeed, that it was sometimes used as a stage for the performance of farces and mysteries. At this table were seated the king and princes of the blood; while humbler boards, disposed throughout the room, received the other dignitaries, care having been taken to provide separate accommodation for the Town and University. Immense as was the company, the repast was brought up from the kitchens underneath, with far less confusion than might have been expected; for here everything was on so vast a scale, that the stairs of communication, which were two in number, were broad enough to allow the whole army of cooks to march up side by side at one time.

When our young knight, who had eaten nothing since the morning, had done abundant honour to his royal entertainer, and taken more than one hearty draught of wine, which was served in proportion, he bethought himself that his wanderings for the day were not yet over. Taking advantage, therefore, of the noise and confusion incidental to a popular toast, he got up and made his exit, sincerely praying that the king might live long enough to give many more such feasts, and that he himself might be one of the company.

On descending into the Cour du Mai, he found that its whole area was filled with tables crowded with company, many of whom were the very lowest of the populace. Near the stairs, however, there were numerous individuals of a higher rank, who had found the tables full in the interior; and he listened for a moment as he passed, to a voice which seemed to be familiar to his ear.

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I tell you, masters," said the speaker, "it was nothing to this; the English hogs like eating too well themselves to give generously to another. Henry V. deserved to lose the first city in Europe, were it only for his hungry feast,

Why, I'd as lief dine with a beggar under a hedge, as sit here, and eat the cold scraps of a king, with hardly a cup of wine to wash them down! The very poor of the Hotel Dieu cried shame of it. Down with the English! say I., Come, my masters, pledge me to this toast, 'Down with the English, and up with the banner of St. Luce!"

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Bravo, my friend," cried the Scot, as he passed by, "Down with the English, and up with the banner of St. Luce!"

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What! is it thou? Hast thou eaten, ha? Hast filled thy belly? Art satisfied?"

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'Abundantly."

And wilt thou still talk of Perth in the same day with Paris?"

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'Never, never,” answered the knight, who was now in excellent humour.

"Sit down, then, in God's name," said the mollified echevin, "sit down; here is more to eat, and wine without stint."

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Another time, friend echevin, although a Scot, I would not eat you up at one meal!" And in the midst of the laugh which this little sally occasioned, he made his escape from the house of feasting.

CHAPTER II.

THE streets were still crowded; and the stranger, calculating that the students would not betake themselves to their colleges for some time yet, amused himself with wandering about the precincts of the palace of Notre Dame. The Sainte Chapelle more particularly attracted his attention, the relics of which collected by St. Louis alone cost more than a hundred thousand livres tournois. But this price will not be thought extravagant, if it is recollected that among the valuables there was not only a piece of the true cross, but a portion of the identical iron which pierced the side of Christ.

Around the cathedral there were grouped so many churches that one might have imagined himself, on such a spot, to be altogether free from the intrusion of sin; but besides the gallows of the bishop, which spoke eloquently of crime and suffering, there were other objects calculated to drag the thoughts of the passer-by from heaven to earth. In passing through a certain street, the knight was accosted