A knight of the Palatinate, who had served many years in India, told me at Court in that country the first Minister and the keeper of the seals hated each other mortally.  The latter having one day occasion for the seals, found they had been taken from the casket in which they were usually kept.  He was of course greatly terrified, for his head depended upon their production.  He went to one of his friends, and consulted with him what he should do.  His friend asked him if he had any enemies at Court.  “Yes,” replied the keeper of the seals, “the chief Minister is my mortal foe.”—­“So much the better,” replied his friend; “go and set fire to your house directly; take out of it nothing but the casket in which the seals were kept, and take it directly to the chief Minister, telling him you know no one with whom you can more safely deposit it; then go home again and save whatever you can.  When the fire shall be extinguished, you must go to the King, and request him to order the chief Minister to restore you the seals; and you must be sure to open the casket before the Prince.  If the seals are there, all will be explained; if the Minister has not restored them, you must accuse him at once of having stolen them; and thus you will be sure to ruin your enemy and recover your seals.”  The keeper of the seals followed his friend’s advice exactly, and the seals were found again in the casket.

As soon as a royal child, which they call here un Enfant de France, is born, and has been swaddled, they put on him a grand cordon; but they do not create him a knight of the order until he has communicated; the ceremony is then performed in the ordinary manner.

The ladies of chancellors here have the privilege of the tabouret when they come to the toilette; but in the afternoon they are obliged to stand.  This practice began in the days of Marie de Medicis, when a chancellor’s wife happened to be in great favour.  As she had a lame foot and could not stand up, the Queen, who would have her come to visit her every morning, allowed her to sit down.  From this time the custom of these ladies sitting in the morning has been continued.

In the reign of Henri IV. the King’s illegitimate children took precedence of the Princes of the House of Lorraine.  On the day after the King’s death, the Duc de Verneuil was about to go before the Duc de Guise, when the latter, taking him by the arm, said, “That might have been yesterday, but to-day matters are altered.”

Two young Duchesses, not being able to see their lovers, invented the following stratagem to accomplish their wishes.  These two sisters had been educated in a convent some leagues distant from Paris.  A nun of their acquaintance happening to die there, they pretended to be much afflicted at it, and requested permission to perform the last duties to her, and to be present at her funeral.  They were believed to be sincere, and the permission they asked was readily