one of the narrowest and dirtiest streets in Paris, and inhabited by
daughters of a very different description. Such are the extraordinary
changes which time effects. Philippe Auguste dying in 1223, was
succeeded by his son Louis VIII, surnamed the Lion, whose short reign of
four years was occupied by war, leaving no leisure for effecting any
great improvement in Paris; but under his successor Lewis IX, styled
Saint-Louis, much was effected, although his efforts were principally
directed towards the erection of religious institutions, being much
under the dominion of the priests, and naturally possessing a fanatic
zeal. Churches at that period were too often but monuments of
superstition for the celebration of mummery, for sheltering criminals,
receptacles for pretended relics, and in fact instruments for
maintaining the power of priestcraft. This same Saint Louis, so lauded
by some authors, had some excellent notions of his own, and was very
fond of practising summary justice, recommending to his nobles that
whenever they met with any one who expressed any doubts regarding the
Christian religion, never to argue with the sceptist, but immediately
plunge their swords into his body.

Rhetoric at this period was a study much followed and admired, but the
logic of Saint-Louis, I suspect, was the most forcible and best
calculated to remove all doubts, having a great objection to language
that was what some persons would style far too energetic; where an oath
was suffered to escape, he ordered the intemperate orator's tongue to be
pierced with a hot iron and his lips burnt; hence many of his subjects
were compelled to endure that operation; but this was considered in
those days all very saint-like. They had strange ideas in some
instances, in days of yore, according to our present notion of words and
things. Louis the First, surnamed the _Débonnaire_ (the gentle), had his
nephew Bernard's eyes bored out; this act was certainly very like a