ate affection of the Duchess of
Choiseul: she declined the personal favors which the king offered her,
setting all her husband's friends the example of a fidelity which was
equally honorable to them and to him. Acute observers read a tale of the
growing weakness of absolute power in the crowd which still flocked to a
minister in disgrace; the Duke of Choiseul remained a power even during a
banishment which was to last as long as his life.

With M. de Choiseul disappeared the sturdiest prop of the Parliaments.
In vain had the king ordered the magistrates to resume their functions
and administer justice. "There is nothing left for your Parliament,"
replied the premier president, "but to perish with the laws, since the
fate of the magistrates should go with that of the state." Madame
Dubarry, on a hint from her able advisers, had caused to be placed in her
apartments a fine portrait of Charles I. by Van Dyck. "France," she was
always reiterating to the king with vulgar familiarity, "France, thy
Parliament will cut off thy head too!"

[Illustration: "France, thy Parliament will cut off thy Head too!"--249]

A piece of ignorant confusion, due even more to analogy of name than to
the generous but vain efforts often attempted by the French magistracy in
favor of sound doctrines of government. The Parliament of Paris fell
sitting upon curule chairs, like the old senators of Rome during the
invasion of the Gauls; the political spirit, the collected and combative
ardor, the indomitable resolution of the English Parliament, freely
elected representatives of a free people, were unknown to the French
magistracy. Despite the courage and moral, elevation it had so often
shown, its strength had been wasted in a constantly useless strife; it
had withstood Richelieu and Mazarin; already reduced to submission by
Cardinal Fleury, it was about to fall beneath the equally bold and
skilful blows of Chancellor Maupeou. Notwithstanding the little natural
liking and the usual distrust he felt for Parliaments, the king still
hesitated. Madame Dubarry managed to inspire him with fears for his
person; and he yielded.

During the night between the 19th and 20th of January, 1771, musketeers
knocked at the doors of all the magistrates; they were awakened in the
king's name, at the same time being ordered to say whether they would
consent to resume their service. No equivocation possible! No margin
for those developments of their ideas whi