The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1844-03-19 00:00:00

LOCAL NEWS.

STEALING LEAD FI:011 HOUSE TOPS.-Wm. Lewis,
a young man, was yesterday charged at the Police-court
with having stolen a quantity of lead from a house or
houses in Midgehall-street. He was detected by a police-
officer with some of the property in his possession, and
other pieces were found ready to be carried off. No fewer
than nine chimneys had been stripped of the lead attached
to them. He stated, in his " defence," that he had found
the lead which he had, in a court ; that he had got a ladder
to look if anybody was on the roofs, and seeing no one,
was going away when he was apprehended ! He was sent
for trial to the sessions.

SMUGGLING WHISKY.—A woman named Mary Evans
was yesterday brought before Mr. Rushton on a charge of
having in her possession four brown bottles of whisky,
supposed to be smuggled, and with which she had been
stopped by a police officer in the street. An excise officer
stated that the bottles contained a little short of a gallon
of raw spirit, and that the prisoner was in all probability
the distiller of it. The prisoner, on. being asked what she
had to say, for some time affected to be unable to speak a
word of English, though she had spoken readily enough
in that language the same morning in the Bridewell. She
at length said, " A man gave it to me." She was fined
405., or, in default of payment, ordered to be imprisoned
for twenty-one days.
turIeNsTRREsrI
announcedNc LbEycz.3,ira.Esn oolNdeAn—The—geTd hteolebce-
one of the best astronomers of the age, and to whom is
also due the high award of having risen from humble life
through the force of his individual genius and aspirations
—commence to-morrow night. We can do Tittle more in
bis behalf than repeat eceterus paribus, the encomium we
have before bestowed. Mr. Holden is an unabtrusive
lecturer. He deals with the faits of science, which he
perfectly understands in his department, rather than with
the flowers of rheteric in submitting them ; but his sin-
gleness of mind, and simplicity and homliness of diction,
present charms to the hearer, which strongly approxi-
mate—as does his peculiar study—to the sublime. If it
may be said that " beauty unadorned 's adorned the most,"
so may we say that " truths" mathematically defined, are
equally irrespective of the meretricious trappings of decla-
mation. In a word, Mr. Holden is master of his sub-
ject—can convey it to the minds of all in a pleasing and
accessible manner—and his, moreover, beautiful and ac-
curate machinery for its illustration. We can confidently
recommend our friends, young and old, to hear and to
see him.

THEFT FROM AN EMPLOYER.—An elderly woman
was yesterday placed before Mr. Rushton, at the police-
court, on the following charge. Ann Hollis, who was em-
ployed in the shop of Hollis, Watford, and Co., Tea-
dealers and grocers, in Byrom-street, stated that on Sun-
day morning about 8 o'clock the prisoner, who was em-
ployed on the premises as charwoman, came to her and
said that the warehouse had been broken open. A porter
employed there said that he had let the prisoner in that
morning, and that she also stated to him that the ware-
house had been entered. He found that the inside bar of
the warehouse door had been removed, and the door
opened ; that two mats of raw sugar had been pulled out,
and that portions of the article were strewed about near
the door. As it appeared the bar could not have been
removed from the outside. Inspector M'Gill, who ex-
amined the premises, went on Sunday to the house in
Circus-street where the prisoner lived, and after question-
nig her without ascertaining with any certainty that she
was the offender, left the place, but on looking back saw
the prisoner looking out after him. He consequently
returned, and his suspicions being further roused by ob-
i serving that the prisoner's room was in darkness, he
searched about, and in the back yard under a stool, found
a bag containing 651 b of sugar. The prisoner on being
spoken to about it, said " I will go on my knees and ask
pardon", and intreated him to go to Hollis and Walford,
and ask them to forgive her. The sugar was spoken to
as being precisely similar to that remaining in the ware-
house. The bag was also identified as Messrs. Hollis's
property. The prisoner was committed for trial at the
pending assizes.
" EXCHANGE HOTEL AND RESTAURANT."—Tbis Es-
tablishment, until recently known and highly appreciated
as a " Restaurant" only, has, from the encouragement it
has received been splendidly fitted up as a regular" hotel,"
by the worthy host, Mr. Harris. In celebration of its
opening in this higher grade of accomodation to the pub-
lic, a numerous party of gentlemen assembled on Wed-
nesday last in the large and elegant room in front, and sat
down to a sumptuous dinner. Mr. W. M. Lomas was
called to the chair, and Mr. Berke to the vice chair. The
viands were abundant and of the choicest description,
and the wines of such a quality as to excite the astonish-
ment of some connoisseurs present that they should be
produced at a public dinner. The confectionary was most
splendid both in diversity and device; and the dessert,
both of home production and exotics, was as complete
and finished for the season as it could possibly be. After
the usual loyal toasts, and the health of the Mayor, and
of the Memb:rs for the Borough, the Chairman proposed
" Success and prosperity to the Exchange Hotel,"—in
prefacing which he traced the establishment from its in-
fancy to its rapid maturity ; referred to the excellent
supply of viands for which it had been distinguished ; and
the great attention, kindness, and courtesy, of the host
and hostess, and through their immediate example of all
the servants of the establishment. He referred to the
elegance of the several apartments, and their perfect
adaptation, with the attention paid, to the comfort of
visiters. He adverted to the great value and merit of
well conducted establishments of the kind, as furnishing
the means of comfort, on terms the most reasonable, to
gentlemen who were by business or chance necessarily
absent from " their own fire-sides." He eulogised the
exertions and enterprise of all who thus sought to be fore-
most in the race in dispensing such comforts, and stated
that though a spirit of rivalry existed, there was here no
jealousy of the success of others, but a laudable attempt
only to secure success to themselves. In conclusion,
after a high compliment to Mr. Harris personally, he ex-
pressed his ardent aspirations—in which the company
would join him—for the health, happiness, and prosperity
of the worthy proprietor and his amiable helpmate. The
toast was received with great cheering, and Mr. Harris
feelingly returned thanks. Mr. Richmond after a very
pointed and appropriate address on the occasion which
they had met to celebrate, and on the eloquent manner in
which the last toast had been given, proposed the " health
of Mr. Lomas," which was enthusiastically received and
ably responded to. Several other gentlemen addressed
the meeting; a band of music played in an adj ining
room ; several songs were sung, and sentiments given ;
1 and the company were so much delighted with the enter-
tainment and the harmonious feeling that pervaded the
meeting throughout, that a resolution was come to that
the anniversary of the occasion should be kept up by all
present, and it was confidently anticipated by a very nu-
merous host of new friends.
NEW TENDER MERCIES OF THE NEW POOR LAW.—
Yesterday a haggard-looking man, to appearance about
30 years of age, and his wife, somewhat younger—the first
with his face all bloody from a blow on the nose, and the
latter with a black eye and swollen cheek—were brought
before Mr. Rushton on a charge of assaulting a parish
officer, and behaving otherwise in a disorderly manner.
Mr. liovrlands, of the Parish-office, stated, in effect, that
the prisoners (who had conic from South Wales) had some
short time ago applied for relief, which was given them,
in the first instance, out of doors. They had again ap-
plied, representing themselves to be destitute, and were
sent to the Workhouse for immediate or night lodging,
from which they were turned out that (yesterday) morn-
ing. They afterwards came to the Parish-office, and
demanded relief. The Board of Guardians being then
sitting, he brought them before that body, and represented
their case, and they—in accordance with the instructions
(or laws) of the Poor Law Commissioners—decided that
tnool tdh
theming s htoou
gl do
ab
we
adyo, naeo n
dforn tthheemi
r. r e
fl!r.
olsio
g aßowlandsn thend
becoming
noisy he shoved the man out. The woman, however,
remained, and resisted his attempts to eject her. The
man then came up, and violently assaulted him, and the
former in aiming a blow at him (Mr. 11.) missed his aim
and hit his wife—producing the contusion on her face then
visible. A girl who was in the Parish-office at the time
corroborated Mr. Rowlands as to the blow. The male
prisoner denied that he had struck his wife at all, and ac-
cused Mr. Rowlands of assaulting and striking both. He
added that they were totally without food, or means to
obtain either food or to go elsewhere to obtain them, and
that they could not live on " wind." The woman also
said she had been struck by Mr. Rowlands. Mr. Rush-
ton said that the conduct of the prisoners, as regarded
their language and their assault on Mr. Rowlands, was
highly culpable, but at the same time, while it was right
to send them to the Workhouse for immediate shelter, it

was surely wrong to turn them out without food, or money
to procure it, or to go elsewhere. Mr. Rowlands said
that the Guardians had the power of prescribing a task in
work to casual poor, in return for the shelter and food
they might receive in the house, and that the turning of
them out in the morning to find work, (as we understood
him,) was to be that equivalent, It did not appear that
work had been offered to them in the house at all. There
was, said Mr. Rowlands, a regulation of the Poor Law
Commissioners authorising the practice stated, which pre-
vailed in most parishes. Mr. Rushton said he should like
to see such rule, and Mr. Rowlands stated he would
fetch it, and left the court for that purpose—the prisoners
being, in the meantime, put down. On Mr. Rowlands
return, he handed a paper to Mr. Rushton, which he
read—referring to certain clauses, one of which gave per-
mission to Guardians to impose task work on paupers

.
casually relieved. Mr. Rushtan said that these clauses
justified the overseers in sending such persons to the
workhouse, and prescribing a task to them ; but not, he
thought, in turning them out without food, and destitute.
They ought first be relieved and then sent to their parish.
Mr. Rowlands said that if they were not turned out, this
parish would incur all the expense of their keep ; for their
settlement would not, probably, be proved. He admitted
that he believed the prisoners were very poor, but what
were they (the Guardians) to do ? They might easily find
another parish, even within a few miles,—so that (as we
understood him) Liverpool would be relieved from sup-
porting them. Mr. Rushton strongly objected to such a
course. They might, for instance, go to West Derby, in
which be himself lived ; but if they were driven there, he
and others would, perhaps, be induced to prosecute the
parish of Liverpool for not supporting their casual poor,
and afterwards charging it upon the proper parish.
cFaisnealrly, gaiMnsrt.
tßheowld
prisoners
serasi;d
he
ehat he
would
wraotuhledrnroetliepvreestshtele
then
so that they might go to their own parish or elsewhere.
—[We make no comment on the above facts beyond the
expression of our own opinion, that if destitute persons
are to be turned out of any workhouse without house,
food, work, or money, there is :in end to the boasted
adage, that no I ulna:, being c;4n perish in England for
want of Mod and shelter it he am Ey for it, and the humane
provisions of the or'ginal poor law, are by the
dictum of the three gr. ar of London, rendered a
dead letter, and tie a—eri ;on upon them, an un-
feeling insult added to the sufferings of the destitute.
E. L. S.]

tittrature.

POETRY.

THE FIRESIDE.

AIR.—" The days we went a gipsying."

I have tasted all life's pleasures—l have snitched at all its joys—
The dance's merry measures, am! the revel's festive noise ;
Though wit fiash'd bright the live-long night, and fliiwed the
ruby tide,
I sighed for thee—l sighed fcr thee, my own fire side !

In boyhood's dreams I wandered far, across the o'cean's breast,
In search of some bright earthy star—some happy isle of rest;
I little thought the bliss I sought in roaming far and wide,
Was sweetly centured all in thee—my own fireside

flow sweet to turn at evening's close from all our cares away,
And end in calm, serene repose, the swiftly passing day!
The pleasant books, the smiling looks of sister or or bride,
All fairy ground doth make around one's own fireside !

The poet sings his deathless songs, the sage his lore repeats,
The patriot tells his country's wrongs, the chief his warlike
feats
Each godlike mind in books enshrined still haunts my fireside.

Oh ! let me glance a moment through the coming crowd of
years—
Their triumphs or their failures—their sunshine or their tears—
How poor or great may be my fate, I care not what betide,
So peace and but hallow thee, my own fireside.

Still let me hold the vision close, and closer to my sight :
Still—still in hopes elysian, let my spirit wing its flight;
Still let me dream, life's shadowy stream may yield from out
its tide,
A mind at rest—a tranquil breast—a quiet fireside

CARDINAL DE RETZ,
on
THE COURTIER'S PLOT.

BY PETER POPJ OY, Esq.

(For the Liverpool Standard.)

CHAPTER XVI.
Which, being the last, it is left to speak for itself.

FABIEN felt, as may be naturally expected, the utmost
eagerness and anxiety to comm Vicate to Elizabeth the
happy results of this memorable meeting. The young
wife was greatly surprised that the Queen should wish
to see them that evening at the palace. The knowledge
of the Queen's forgiveness caused her to shed abundant
tears of tenderness.
" The Queen can then pardon me," she exclaimed.
" Oh ! Fahien, you cannot conceive what I have suf-
fered in the thought that my royal mistress should des-
piseme."

The remainder of the day was passed by the now
happy young couple in forming plans for the future
Nevertheless the delight of Fabien was somewhat clouded
by the recollection of the cruel manner in which his bro-
ther had been treated that day in the hall of the Palais
de Justice. Nor did he forget that in the evening the
meeting was to take place between him and the captain
of the guards of the Prince de Conti. Whatever might
have been the wrongs his brother had done him, he could
not but experience the utmost apprehension as to the
possible result of the combat. Elizabeth noticed his pen-
sive air, but she could not control her feelings of de-
light at her approaching reconciliation and meeting with
the Queen.

Fabien saw DO more of Paul de Gondi for the rest
of the day. He remained in his cabinet surrounded by
his chief partisans, and a crowd of persons of distincti,n,
who thronged to the cloister to hear the events of the
morning. At the close of the day the number of visitors
began to abate, and Fabien and Elizabeth were about to
retire for the purpose of preparing for their visit to the
palace, when the Scholar, gaily dressed, entered their
chamber. He was followed by two servants, who brought
with them most sumptuous dresses.

" What," said the Scholar, smiling, " not yet ready ;
" have you forgotten that in an hour's time you will be
presented to the Queen. I know how it is ; Monsieur
cannot find a dress plain enough for so mournful and so-
lemn an occasion. However, here is one which you are
entreated to accept; and I hope you will lose no time
in getting ready."
The servants having laid down the dress, left the
chamber.

" What," said Fabien, "is this splendid dress for me ?
It does not become my humble state."
" Oh ! this is not all," continued the Scholar, enjoy-
ing the astonishment of the pair before him ; " Madame
will find in her apartment a happy match to this."
" But--tell us—pray—"
" I shall tell you no more," continued the Scholar,
" than this, that a carriage will shortly be ready to con-
vey you to the palace. You will have footmen and pages,
bearing torches ; in fact you will go in right royal state."
" But in the name of all the saints, good Eustace, to
whom are we indebted for these delicate attentions and
rich presents ?"

" And to whom should you be indebted if not to the
brave and gallant Paul de Gondi, coadjutor of the Arch-
bishop of Paris, and who soon will be Cardinal de
Retz !"

" What, does he still think of us, overwhelmed as he
must be by visitors, occupations, cares, and difficulties ?"
" He has thought of your dress, of Madame de
Croissi's jewels, of your expenses, of your carriage, of
the number and quality of those who will accompany
you. He has thought of every thing, seen to every
thing. This has all been done in a few words which he
whispered to me in the presence of the great lords, the
princes, and dukes. He gave me his orders; I ordered
his confidential servants; and his wishes have been
obeyed, as they always are, like enchantment. But be
quick, you must not keep the great personage you are
about to visit in waiting; you know she does not like
that."

Elizabeth laughed heartily at the rapid chatter of the
delighted Scholar,' and quitted the room to attire herself.
Fabien immediately arranged his dress. Elizabeth
quickly returned, apparelled in a costly and elegant court
dress. We need not tell the reader how lovely she
looked in the picturesque costume of the time. Eustace
could not but give vent to his admiration at the elegant
appearance of both, and he did not scruple to felicitate
Fabien especially on the loveliness of his bride.
The Scholar left the room, promising to return quickly;
and Elizabeth, in her happiness, could not refrain from
shedding tears cf happiness. Eustace soon made his ap-
pearance, intimating that the coach was in waiting to
convey them to court.
Fabien took Elizabeth's hand, and led her to the
court-yard, where a rich coach was drawn up. As `'ire-
ton had stated, there were many pages in gay liveries,
men on horseback, and attendants bearing flambeaux,
ready to accompany the young pair to court. They
quickly took their seats, and were passing slowly out of
the court-yard, when a sudden disturbance, at the gate
somewhat arrested their further progress. A number of
soldiers in the pay of the Coadjutor were assembled
about the entrance, and the lacqueys and grooms ap-
peared to be listening to a vivid discussion which was
taking place between the chief of the Coadjutor's guards
and a strange gentleman who bore the uniform of an
officer of rank. As the crowd only opened to allow the
carriage to pass, Fabien caught several words of the al-
tercation.

" I tell you, sir, that you cannot see my lord if you
have not an order expressly signed by him," exclaimed the
chief of the guards of Gondi ; " I know all important per-
sonages who come here, and your face is not familiar to
me. Retire, sir, I beg; we cannot allow anybody to
have an audience with his eminence ; his enemies have
no doubt too great an inclination to get rid of him."
" I swear to you, sir, that I am well known to the
Coadjutor, although not of his party-. If Ido not tell
you my name I have good reason for concealing it at
present, but I must speak to the Coadjutor of an affair
of honour which admits of no delay."
At this moment Fabien looked through the window,
and cast upon the stranger an earnest gaze, and turned
pale, on recognising the Marquis de Crenan, the captain
of the guards, his brother's antagonist.
As soon as the coach was outside the gate Fabien oi-
&red it to he stopped, and leaped out, bidding Eliza-
beth not to he alarmed at his absence. He touched the
officer on the shoulder, whose discussion with De Gondi's
captain was becoming still more animated.
" Mons. de Crenan," said he, in a low voice, " one
word if you please."
On hearing his name mentioned the Marquis turned
quickly round, but seeing a gentleman in a court dress, he
followed him instantly.
" Mons. le Marquis," said Fabien, " excuse my in-
trusion ; but may I ask if the interview you desire with
the Coadjutor has any reference to a certain duel P"
" Who the deuce told you that," interrupted the Mar-
quis, with surprise ; " but you were perhaps in the ante-
chamber io-day, and know as much about the affair as
any other person. It is about this duel that I wish to
see the Coadjutor."
" The Coadjutor himself?"
Crenan kept silent for a moment, as if he hesitated
whether he ought to reveal his secrets to a stranger.
" Faith," replied he, " you may perhaps help me out
of this embarrassing situation. I confess that it is not
the Coadjutor that I so much wish to see as a gentleman
who is residing in this vicinity."

" Monsieur Fabien de Croissi P"
" Just so. Do you know him
" I am the person."
" In that case," said the Marquis, in a grave voice'
" I have a melancholy duty to perform towards you
Will you follow me ?"
" Where P"
" To see your brother; he is dying."
" My brother—Albert ; where is be 1""
" There," said the gentleman, pointing to a coach
which stood in "La Place du Paris," in the deep shade
of the towers of Notre Dame."
Fabien, in great excitement, quickly followed his guide.
At that moment he forgot all his brother's crimes, and
his only desire was to see him again.
The Marquis mounted the step, and said softly,—
" I have fulfilled your wish, Monsieur de Croissi, and
I have brought the brother you spd:e of to see you."
" My brother," replied a fee)le voice from the car-
riage ; " has Fabien then come to scot:l(' my dying mo-
ments ?"

The Marquis saluting him, stepped to the gr.mnd,
making a sign to Fabien to take his place, retiring a few
paces, to avoid witnessing this mournful interview.
Yes, 'tis I, Baron," said Fabien, in great agitation ;
" it is I—your, brother, who supplicates your pardon for
any injuries he may have done you, as he freely forgives
those whic!i you have heaped on him."
The dying man was silent for an instant.
" Come," said he, as if talking to himself, as his
thoughts wandered ; " let me speak a few words to him
before I die. Sir," continued he, in a different tone,
but of profound bitterness, " you are the son of Madame
de Itieul, and will become by my death the Baron de
Croissi. I have wished to be the first to salute you by
the title, and this wish is doubtless that of a good bro-
ther."

The strange manner in which these words were spoken
made Fabien shudder.
" Brother," said he, sadly, " why do you suppose me
to harbour sentiments which are very far from my heart.
Perhaps your wound is not mortal ; and if you will per-
mit me to conduct you to the cloister, I am sure the Co-
adjutor will see that every care is taken of you."
Albert evidently trembled ou the seat on which he
was stretched.
" No, no," replied he, groaning, " the night is too dark
to see the palor of my countenance, and the depth of my
wound. A few moments, brother, and you will be the
possessor of your inheritance. Every moment I feel as
if I should suffocate. A learned doctor has told me I
have no hope, and I wished but to see you, and say a
word or two to you. I—" The Baron now grew faint.
Suddenly rallying, he continued—
" Doubtless you have thought me highly blamable ;
but reflect what would have became of you had it not
been for me. I saw you but three times in my life ; I
knew little of you; you were the son of a person I de-
tested, and whose origin I despised. I kept you, and
considered you as my vassal. Judge, then, of the efforts
that I found it was necessary to make in the exhibition
of any interest—any affection towards you ; and reflect
upon what my auger must have been when I found you
opposing my will. Why you were but a poor serf, and
thus to refuse to sacrifice your life for the sake of your
relation ! Judge then—oh ! pain, pain."
These frightful words were accompanied by horrid
ravings. Fabien spoke not, fearful of irritating still
more his dying brother. De Croissi seemed sinking.
" Well." said he at length, " he happy, I shall not
see the light again. My hotel is near, you may take
possession of it. Go to Croissi, the vassals know you ;
they will see in you their equal—their lord—ha ! ha!
' Take all my wealth; but with it I leave you the curse
of a wish to increase it, with a hope that you may never
succeed--"
He stopped, and in the next moment his delirium still
increased.
" But I forgot," continued he, laughing horridly ; " I
forgot. You are a prisoner in the cloister of Notre
Dame. You cannot peaceably enjoy your possessions—
you will soon be a state prisoner. l know the courtiers
well ; you will be forgotten by them. Your protector
will he compelled to abandon you. Life shall not be
spread with flowers, in spite of your tender conscience ;
and your betrothed—she shall not wed you—she too is
condemned. It is consolation to know that you canno
enjoy your inheritance."

P-ablen could not restrain his grief.
At this moment Elizabeth, who had become alarmed
at Fabien's long absence, now came up to the carriage,
preceded by the pages with flambeaux. The sudden
light of the torches displayed to the dying man the rich
habiliments of those near him ; he raised himself up, and
with an expression of deadliest hate said—" So then this
is the lady of your love ; she :has followed you then.
What does she here, thus attended and thus attired ?
Who has bestowed upon you those gay garments ? Have
you already seized the manor of Croissi ?
" Ha! ha ! Mademoiselle ; you are now about to wed
my brother, now that I cannot oppose your union."
"Monsieur le Baron," said Elizabeth, greatly moved at
the pitiable sight before her, " we are already married."
" Married ! married ! oh, imprudent pair ! What ?
married !—with the gates of the Bastile open to one, and
the veil of the Carmelites ready for the other. Married,
ha ! ha !—"

Elizabeth could not but gaze upon De Croissi with as
:onishment ; she saw he was dying, but she did not under.

stand the mainspring of these wild exclamations. Fabien
pressed her hand.

" Are you then so ill, Monsieur le Baron Oh live,
:o smile on our union !"

" What ! are you then pardoned ?" suddenly said
Albert, the truth rushing upon his wandering brain.
" The Queen, my brother, has deigned to grant both of
us forgiveness, and we are now on our way to thank her at
the palace."
" To the palace !" said the Baron, with a convulsive
movement—" You ! do you go to the palace ? By some
sly door, no doubt. I never went to the palace but by
the great gate. Oh, my brain ! how it wanders. What
do those flambeaux and those pages mean ?—and is it
by the door of honour that you enter? Speak ! speak !'"
The young couple turned away their heads.

"It is true—it is true You and virtue have obtained
more than I, with skilfulness and knowledge. Happiness
will crown you, while I, hated, scoffed at and scorned
—well—adieu !"
His words faded away—the malediction hung on his
lips, unpronounced. The bad man was dead.
•

Elizabeth and Ebien remained a minute or two ab-
sorbed in grief and chilled with terror, until the Marquis
de Crenan and the scholar, tearing them away from the
mournful spectacle, forced them into their coach. The

carriage Containing the body of Albert proceeded

slowly to the Faubourg St. Germain, where the Hotel
Croissi was situated. Fabien would have accompanied
it thither, but the scholar shouted " To the Palace !"
andto the palace it proceeded, where Fabien Baron

de Croissi and his lovely bride attracted considerable
attention, and found favour in the eyes of Arnie of Aus-
tria, who did not shortly after forget to throw fortune in

the way of the protegees of Paul de Gondi:
Fabien and Elizabeth had seen enough of courts, and
soon sought happiness in a country life at Croissi, where
it need not be told the Scholar was a frequent and wel-
come guest—the richly beneficed friend of Cardinal de
Retz.