n to seize Concini. They met him at
the gate of the Louvre. As usual, he is bird-like in his utterance,
snake-like in his bearing. They order him to surrender; he chirps forth
his surprise,--and they blow out his brains. Louis, understanding the
noise, puts on his sword, appears on the balcony of the palace, is
saluted with hurrahs, and becomes master of his kingdom.

Straightway measures are taken against all supposed to be attached
to the Regency. Concini's wife, the favorite Leonora, is burned as a
witch,--Regent Mary is sent to Blois,--Richelieu is banished to his
bishopric.

And now matters went from bad to worse. King Louis was no stronger
than Regent Mary had been,--King's favorite Luynes was no better than
Regent's favorite Concini had been. The nobles rebelled against the new
rule, as they had rebelled against the old. The King went through the
same old extortions and humiliations.

Then came also to full development yet another vast evil. As far back
as the year after Henry's assassination, the Protestants, in terror of
their enemies, now that Henry was gone and the Spaniards seemed to grow
in favor, formed themselves into a great republican league,--a State
within the State,--regularly organised in peace for political effort,
and in war for military effort,--with a Protestant clerical caste which
ruled always with pride, and often with menace.

Against such a theocratic republic war must come sooner or later, and in
1617 the struggle began. Army was pitted against army,--Protestant Duke
of Rohan against Catholic Duke of Luynes. Meanwhile Austria and the
foreign enemies of France, Conde and the domestic enemies of France,
fished in the troubled waters, and made rich gains every day. So France
plunged into sorrows ever deeper and blacker. But in 1624, Mary
de Medici, having been reconciled to her son, urged him to recall
Richelieu.

The dislike which Louis bore Richelieu was strong, but the dislike he
bore toward compromises had become stronger. Into his poor brain, at
last, began to gleam the truth, that a serf-mastering caste, after a
compromise, only whines more steadily and snarls more loudly,--that, at
last, compromising becomes worse than fighting. Richelieu was called and
set at work.

Fortunately for our studies of the great statesman's policy, he left at
his death a "Political Testament" which floods with light his steadiest
aims and boldest acts. In that Testament he wrote this message:--