have set aside the nation, which prefers singing merry songs to
psalms, and the army, which we will not fight: but the parliament
remains, and that seldom sings."

"Nor does it fight. How is it, Planchet, that an intelligent man like
you should take any heed of a set of brawlers who call themselves Rumps
and Barebones. The parliament does not trouble me at all, Planchet."

"As soon as it ceases to trouble you, monsieur, let us pass on."

"Yes, and arrive at the result. You remember Cromwell, Planchet?"

"I have heard a great deal of talk about him."

"He was a rough soldier."

"And a terrible eater, moreover."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Why, at one gulp he swallowed all England."

"Well, Planchet, the evening before the day on which he swallowed
England, if any one had swallowed M. Cromwell?"

"Oh, monsieur, it is one of the axioms of mathematics that the container
must be greater than the contained."

"Very well! That is our affair, Planchet."

"But M. Cromwell is dead, and his container is now the tomb."

"My dear Planchet, I see with pleasure that you have not only become a
mathematician, but a philosopher."

"Monsieur, in my grocery business I use much printed paper, and that
instructs me."

"Bravo! You know then, in that case--for you have not learnt mathematics
and philosophy without a little history--that after this Cromwell so
great, there came one who was very little."

"Yes; he was named Richard, and he has done as you have, M.
d'Artagnan--he has tendered his resignation."

"Very well said--very well! After the great man who is dead, after the
little one who tendered his resignation, there came a third. This one
is named Monk; he is an able general, considering he has never fought a
battle; he is a skillful diplomatist, considering that he never speaks
in public, and that having to say 'good-day' to a man, he meditates
twelve hours, and ends by saying 'good-night;' which makes people
exclaim 'miracle!' seeing that it falls out correctly."

"That is rather strong," said Planchet; "but I know another political
man who resembles him very much."

"M. Mazarin you mean?"

"Himself."

"You are right, Planchet; only M. Mazarin does not aspire to the throne
of France; and that changes everything. Do you see? Well, this M. Monk,
who has England ready-roasted in his plate, and who is already opening
his mouth to swallow it--this M. Monk, who says to the people of Charles
II., and to Charle