f
my books for revised issue, that if ever I promise, in one number or
chapter, careful consideration of any particular point in the next,
the next never _does_ touch upon the promised point at all, but is
sure to fix itself passionately on some antithetic, antipathic, or
antipodic, point in the opposite hemisphere. This manner of conducting
a treatise I find indeed extremely conducive to impartiality and
largeness of view; but can conceive it to be--to the general
reader--not only disappointing, (if indeed I may flatter myself that I
ever interest enough to disappoint), but even liable to confirm in his
mind some of the fallacious and extremely absurd insinuations of
adverse critics respecting my inconsistency, vacillation, and
liability to be affected by changes of the weather in my principles or
opinions. I purpose, therefore, in these historical sketches, at least
to watch, and I hope partly to correct myself in this fault of promise
breaking, and at whatever sacrifice of my variously fluent or
re-fluent humour, to tell in each successive chapter in some measure
what the reader justifiably expects to be told.

40. I left, merely glanced at, in my opening chapter, the story of the
vase of Soissons. It may be found (and it is very nearly the only thing
that _is_ to be found respecting the personal life or character of the
first Louis) in every cheap popular history of France; with cheap
popular moralities engrafted thereon. Had I time to trace it to its
first sources, perhaps it might take another aspect. But I give it as
you may anywhere find it--asking you only to consider whether even as so
read--it may not properly bear a somewhat different moral.

41. The story is, then, that after the battle of Soissons, in the
division of Roman, or Gallic spoil, the king wished to have a
beautifully wrought silver vase for--'himself,' I was going to
write--and in my last chapter _did_ mistakenly infer that he wanted it
for his better self,--his Queen. But he wanted it for neither;--it was
to restore to St. Remy, that it might remain among the consecrated
treasures of Rheims. That is the first point on which the popular
histories do not insist, and which one of his warriors claiming equal
division of treasure, chose also to ignore. The vase was asked by the
King in addition to his own portion, and the Frank knights, while they
rendered true obedience to their king as a leader, had not the
smallest notion of allowing him what m