N the shop of a woollen-draper in Rheims, an ancient provincial town in France, an apprentice boy, of slim personal appearance and handsome intelligent features, stood within the counter, poring over the pages of a well-thumbed volume. His name was Baptiste, or, more properly, Jean Baptiste Colbert.

What day of the month is this?' asked M. Certain, a thin, withered old man, the master of the establishment, looking out from his green leathern arm-chair, at the further extremity of the shop, and addressing Baptiste.

'The 30th of October 1632,' replied the youth.

'Not altogether correct,' cried the old woollen-draper briskly : 'you are right as to the day and month, but wrong as to the year. This is 1634, my lad, and that you should know, for you are now fifteen years of age, and should be able to reckon correctly.'

'And so I should, godfather; and I am sure I am fond enough of ciphering. But my mind was a little engaged with history; and at the moment you spoke, I was

'Oh, I see; reading, as usual. I am afraid you will never be good for anything. But what kind of a book is it? What interests you so much ?'

This truthful and graphic account of the rise of the distinguished Colbert has been translated and partly adapted from the French for the present work. A more suitable gift could not be offered to British youth.

No. 68.

I

'Why, sir, I am reading the trial of the Duke of Montmorency.' 'The Duke of Montmorency! What have you to say to him? You think yourself a great man, I suppose, my little fellow, because you have among your ancestors the barons of Gasteril.'

"Castlehill, godfather: the Castlehills are the common ancestors of the Colberts of Scotland and of France; we have the same coatof-arms.'

'Bah! what is that to me? When your mother, Madame Colbert, came to ask me to stand sponsor for you, in compliment to my poor sister, with whom she had been educated, do you think I asked who were your ancestors? Here, at the sign of the Golden Fleece, we do not mind such things. All we have to do with is to sell cloth.'

'I am quite aware of that, sir,' modestly answered the young man: 'I will do my best, I am sure.'

‘Oh, I daresay you will, by and by. However, since you are reading about the Duke of Montmorency, pray tell me what he was tried for.'

'You know, godfather, when Louis XIII. set out from Paris in 1629, and notwithstanding the extreme cold, went in person to assist the Duke of Nevers, and defend him against the claims which the Duke of Savoy made upon Montferrat

‘I declare the little fellow is born a statesman; it is wonderful how he strings it all together,' said the old woollen-draper, staring up at his godson, whose student-like paleness and expression of profound thought seemed little suited to the softness of his childish features, and the fair silken hair which fell in large curls on his shoulders, rivalling in whiteness those of a young girl.

‘Well, godfather,' continued Baptiste, his face glowing with just indignation, ‘when the young king had forced the pass of Suze, conquered the army of the Duke of Savoy, pursued the Spaniards of Cazal, seized upon Pignerol, and, according to the treaty of Querasque, concluded three years before, put the Duke of Nevers in possession of the duchy of Mantua-when, with the title of Deliverer of Italy, which this treaty gave him, he returned with the Duke of Richelieu to the capital, he found there a thousand intrigues. His brother Gaston, Duke of Orleans, had revolted; several nobles had joined his party, the principal of whom was the Duke of Montmorency, who had stirred up Lower Languedoc, of which he was governor ; but being taken with arms in his hands at the battle of Castelnaudary, he was beheaded by order of the Duke of Richelieu, at Toulouse, on the 30th October 1632.'

'There was probably in all that a little of the Cardinal de Richelieu's intrigues and machinations,'* observed the old woollen

*Cardinal de Richelieu (born 1585-died 1642) was prime-minister of Louis XIII., and although a revengeful, cruel, and unprincipled man, has been reckoned by historians one of the greatest statesmen of the old French monarchy. His successor was Mazarin, who is noticed in the present story.

draper, who, as you may perceive, my young readers, did not dislike politics, although he appeared as if he did.

'Ministers are too arbitrary, too harsh, too despotic,' replied Baptiste with animation; ' and if ever I am prime-minister '

A roar of laughter from the old woollen-draper, from the appren→ tices, nay, even from the shop-boy, who was sweeping the front part of the shop, interrupted poor little Baptiste, and made the blood mount to his temples.

'There are no longer any children!-there are no longer any children!' cried Moline laughing.

'If-you-were-a-prime-min-ist-er,' repeated the master of the Golden Fleece, drawling out each syllable; 'if-you-were-a -prime-min-ist-er !-Do me the favour, sir,' added he, abruptly changing his tone, 'first to be useful in your godfather's shop, and to learn to be thankful for having got into so respectable a means of earning a livelihood.'

'Pardon, my good godfather; I spoke on the spur of the moment, and will endeavour to be all that could be desired of me.'

'Well, well, no more of that. Lay aside your paper, and listen to what I am going to say. Here is an invoice, directed, you see, to M. Cenani, of the firm Cenani and Mazerani, bankers of Paris, Set off now to the banker, and take the invoice to him, and at the same time shew him those cloths, to make hangings for a countryhouse that he has purchased in the environs. Come here, sir, and remember the prices of these cloths: No. I is marked three crowns a yard; No. 2, six crowns; No. 3, eight crowns; and No. 4, fifteen crowns. It is dear enough, but it is the very finest Saxony.' 'Am I to make any abatement, godfather?' asked Baptiste, taking a card to which little patterns of cloth were fastened, while Moline the porter loaded himself with several pieces similar to the specimens.

The

'Abatement!' cried the woollen-draper; 'not a farthing., full price, and ready money. Not a penny less. Remember.' Baptiste, followed by Moline with a large parcel of cloth, quickly measured the distance which separated M. Guillaume Certain's shop from the hotel where the banker Cenani was staying.

'You will recollect what your godfather said to you, will you not, Master Baptiste? No. 1, three crowns; No. 2, six crowns; No. 3, eight crowns; and No. 4, fifteen crowns: that's your story. Why, what is the matter with you? What are you thinking of, with your eyes on the ground? One would think you were looking for pins.'

'To tell you the truth, Moline, I do not think my godfather understands me. I wish to be a good shopkeeper, if that is to be my destiny; but surely a man may not be the worse tradesman for taking pleasure in a book, when it does not interfere with his profession.'

'Perhaps so, Baptiste, my good lad; but I am afraid you are a little too much given to forgetfulness; but no doubt you will do well in time. Come, cheer up; here is the hotel.'

'I wish to see M. Cenani,' said Baptiste to the person in attend

ance.

'The first staircase to the left, Nos. 8 and 10,' said the waiter. And still followed by Moline, the young woollen-draper knocked at the door to which he was directed, and was soon ushered into the presence of a very young man, in a dressing-gown of bright-green damask, richly flowered with red.

'I come from M. Certain,' said Baptiste, bowing.

'Here are several pieces of cloth for your honour to choose from,' added Moline, placing his parcel on a table.

The young banker merely said: 'Let me see,' at the same time carelessly approaching the bales, which Moline eagerly opened; and scarcely looking at them, as he touched each piece successively with the tip of his fingers, he put one aside. 'I like this best; what is its price?'

'Fifteen crowns a yard,' answered Baptiste. grimace which neither seller nor buyer remarked.

Moline made a

'Very well,' said the latter ; ‘it is for making hangings for my study in the country. How many yards are in this piece?'

'Thirty yards,' said Moline, looking at the mark; and if you wish me to measure it before you, sir,'

'It is quite unnecessary, my friend; I may trust M. Guillaume. Thirty yards at fifteen crowns make four hundred and fifty crowns : here they are;' and going with the same negligent air to an open desk, he took out a handful of money, which he gave to Baptiste. know how to write, my little friend?' said he to him. "Yes, sir,' said the young apprentice, blushing deeply, so mortified was he by the question.

'Do you

'Well, give me a receipt.'

Baptiste gave the required receipt, and took the money; Moline made up the three other pieces of cloth; both then bowed and retired.

If Baptiste had not been at the time a little absent in mind, he might have remarked, when he reached the street, that his companion was more than usually jocose, and saying as much as that they had had a good day's work.

'Well?' said the master of the Golden Fleece, perceiving, from his station on the step before his door, the approach of his godson and his shop-boy-'well?'

'Here we are at last,' said Moline, throwing his bale upon the

counter.

M. Certain opened it eagerly. 'You have made no mistake, I hope,' said he.

'I don't think I have,' said Baptiste quietly.

'But I think you have,' said Moline with a smothered laugh.

'Do you think so, Moline?-do you think so?' cried the old woollen-draper, throwing down the cloth, and examining the tickets. 'But indeed I might have expected this; the little rascal could not do otherwise. But I warn you, if you have made a mistake, you shall go to M. Cenani to ask from him the surplus money, and if he refuse to give it, you shall pay it out of your wages. No. 3 is wanting; No. 3 was worth-it was worth six crowns; no, eight crowns. I am quite puzzled.'

'Eight crowns !-eight crowns!' cried Baptiste, astounded. 'Are you sure of that, godfather?'

'Perhaps you would like to make out, you little rascal, that it was I who made the mistake. I tell you No. 3 was worth eight crowns. I am half dead with fear. I will lay a wager that the fellow sold it for six.'

'On the contrary, godfather, stupid creature that I am, I have sold it for fifteen; but'

'Fifteen !-fifteen!' interrupted the woollen-draper, trying to disguise the joy which his faltering voice alone would have betrayed— fifteen! You are a fine boy, a good boy, Baptiste; you will one day be an honour to all your family. Fifteen!-and I, your godfather, congratulate myself on having stood sponsor for you. Fifteen!-I could cry with joy! Fifteen crowns-fifteen crowns for a piece of cloth not worth six! Thirty yards at fifteen crowns instead of eight-seven crowns profit; thirty yards, two hundred and ten crowns-six hundred and thirty francs profit. O happy day!' 'How, godfather; would you take advantage?' said Baptiste, drawing back instead of advancing.

'Oh, perhaps you want to go shares,' said the dishonest shopkeeper. Certainly; I agree to let you have something.'

Godfather,' interrupted young Colbert in his turn, composedly taking up his hat, which he had put down on entering, 'I cannot agree to any such thing'

'Bravo! bravo! my boy. Well, give it all to me.'

'And I will go,' continued Baptiste, 'to the gentleman whom I have treated so badly, to beg of him to excuse me, and to return him the money he overpaid me.'

And with these words, Baptiste, who had, while speaking, been gradually approaching the street door, cleared the threshold with a single bound, and rushed out.

The knavish old woollen-draper stood in amazement and wrath at this unforeseen occurrence; but we shall leave him for a moment, to follow the conscientious lad, who was on his way back to the hotel of M. Cenani.

'Can I see M. Cenani?' asked the breathless Baptiste of the valetde-chambre who had opened the door to him a quarter of an hour before.