r of
the State. But the French nobility was just beginning to lose its former
independence of character in becoming more courtierlike. Instead of
deriving from its strongholds and vassals the feeling of its strength
and equality, it showed itself ambitious of such distinctions as the
monarch could confer. In the indulgence of its vanity it lost sight of
its proper pride; and if that new emulation which the Bourbons had
excited was more easy for the sovereign to satisfy, it was more
difficult for the chief of a party to direct. Moreover, Conde, as the
Duchess de Nemours remarks, knew better how to win battles than
hearts.[1] He found a dangerous pleasure, as did his sister the Duchess
de Longueville, in braving malevolence. "In matters of consequence, they
delighted to thwart people, and in ordinary life they were so
impracticable that there was no getting on with them. They had such a
habit of ridiculing one, and of saying offensive things, that nobody
could put up with them. When visits were paid to them, they allowed such
a scornful ennui to be visible, and showed so openly that their visitors
bored them, that it was not difficult to understand that they did
everything in their power to get rid of their company. Whatsoever might
be the rank or quality of the visitors, people were made to wait any
length of time in the Prince's antechamber; and very often, after having
long waited, everybody was sent away without getting an interview,
however short. When they were displeased they pushed people to the
utmost extremity, and they were incapable of showing any gratitude for
services done them. Thus they were alike hated by the Court, by the
Fronde, and by the populace, and nobody could live with them long. All
France impatiently suffered their irritating conduct, and especially
their pride, which was excessive."[2]

[1] Duchesse de Nemours, tom., xxxiv. p. 437.

[2] The Duchess de Nemours was a daughter of the Duke de
Longueville, by his first wife, and as she lived with her
step-mother, the Duchess de Longueville, on very indifferent terms,
her unsparing censure must by no means be implicitly received.

In looking at the faulty side of Conde's character, we must not forget
to observe the disinterested firmness with which, without considering
either his family or his friends, he had hitherto acted in the interests
of the King. Happy would it have been, if, after having thus terminated
this sad civil