The king then called to remembrance the eight projected or attempted assassinations which, since the failure of John Chatel, from 1596 to 1603, had been, and clearly established to have been, directed against him.  Upon this, Sully at once went over to the king’s opinion.  In September, 1603, letters for the restoration of the Jesuits were issued and referred to the Parliament of Paris.  They there met, on the 24th of December, with strong opposition and remonstrances that have remained celebrated, the mouthpiece being the premier president Achille de Harlay, the same who had courageously withstood the Duke of Guise.  He conjured the king to withdraw his letters patent, and to leave intact the decree which had banished the Jesuits.  This was not, he said, the feeling of the Parliament of Paris only, but also of the Parliaments of Normandy and Burgundy; that is, of two thirds of the magistrates throughout the king dom.  Henry was touched and staggered.  He thanked the Parliament most affectionately; but, “We must not reproach the, Jesuits for the League,” said he; “it was the fault of the times.  Leave me to deal with this business.  I have managed others far more difficult.”  The Parliament obeyed, though with regret, and on the 2d of January, 1604, the king’s letters patent were enregistered.

This was not the only business that Henry had at heart; he had another of another sort, and, for him, more difficult to manage.  In February, 1609, he saw, for the first time, at the court of France, Charlotte Marguerite, third daughter of the Constable de Montmorency, only sixteen years old.  “There was at that time,” say all contemporaries, “nothing so beautiful under heaven, or more graceful, or more perfect.”  Before presenting her at court, her father had promised her to Francis de Bassompierre, descended from a branch of the house of Cloves, thirty years old, and already famous for his wit, his magnificence, and his gallantry.  He was one of the principal gentlemen of the chamber to the king.  Henry IV. sent for him one morning, made him kneel on a hassock in front of his bed, and said that, obtaining no sleep, he had been thinking of him the night before, and of getting him married.  “As for me,” says Bassompierre, “who was thinking of nothing so little as of what he wanted to say to me, I answered that, if it were not for the constable’s gout, it would have already been done.  ‘No,’ said he to me, ’I thought of getting you married to Mlle. d’Aumale, and, in consequence of that marriage, of renewing the Duchy of Aumale in your person.’  I asked him if he wanted me to have two wives.  Then he said to me with a deep sigh, ’Bassompierre, I will speak to thee as a friend.  I have become not only enamoured, but mad, beside myself, about Mlle. de Montmorency.  If thou wed her and she love thee, I shall hate thee; if she loved me, thou wouldst hate me.  It is better that this should not be the cause of destroying