what course to take, I waited upon his Majesty, and thanked him for his gracious offer, but said I dreaded the weight of so remote a see, and that my years wanted advice, which it is difficult to obtain in provinces so distant.  I added to this other arguments, which you may guess at.  I was in this adventure also more happy than wise.  The King continued to treat me very kindly.  This circumstance, and the retreat of M. de Noyers, who fell into the snare that Chavigni had laid for him, renewed my hopes of the coadjutorship of Paris.  The King died about this time, in 1643.  M. de Beaufort, who had been always devoted to the Queen’s interest, and even passed for her gallant, pretended now to govern the kingdom, of which he was not so capable as his valet de chambre.  The Bishop of Beauvais, the greatest idiot you ever knew, took upon himself the character of Prime Minister, and on the first day of his administration required the Dutch to embrace the Roman Catholic religion if they desired to continue in alliance with France.  The Queen was ashamed of this ridiculous minister, and sent for me to offer my father—­[Philippe Emmanuel de Gondi, Comte de Joigni; he retired to the:  Fathers of the Oratory, and became priest; died 1662, aged eighty-one.]—­the place of Prime Minister; but he refusing peremptorily to leave his cell and the Fathers of the Oratory, the place was conferred upon Cardinal Mazarin.

You may now imagine that it was no great task for me to obtain what I desired at a time that nothing was refused, which made Feuillade say that the only words in the French tongue were “La Reine est si bonne.”

Madame de Maignelai and the Bishop of Lisieux desired the Queen to grant me the coadjutorship of Paris, but they were repulsed, the Queen assuring them that none should have it but my father, who kept from Court; and would never be seen at the Louvre, except once, when the Queen told him publicly that the King, the very night before he died, had ordered her expressly to have it solicited for me, and that he said in the presence of the Bishop of Lisieux that he had me always in his thoughts since the adventures of the pinmaker and Captain Coutenau.  What relation had these trifling stories to the archbishopric of Paris?  Thus we see that affairs of the greatest moment often owe their rise and success to insignificant trifles and accidents.  All the companies went to thank the Queen.  I sent 16,000 crowns to Rome for my bull, with orders not to desire any favour, lest it should delay the despatch and give the ministers time to oppose it.  I received my bull accordingly; and now you will see me ascending the theatre of action, where you will find scenes not indeed worthy of yourself, but not altogether unworthy of your attention.

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