ferring to indulge her imperious spirit alone, she generally contrived to spend the greater part of her time at some one of her many castles in France, rather than remain in England merely to fill the rank of second personage at the court of the beloved and popular King Henry. Added to this, her sojourn in England was odious to her. The semi-barbarous state of the country was certainly not inviting; and to one who had not its interest at heart, was peculiarly distasteful.

The first thought in the mind of Henry was the improvement of his kingdom. He watched over it with an anxious and paternal eye; but to the Queen, it was a matter of more than indifference. The scorn she felt she scarcely condescended to conceal. Although her court was, in fact, almost exclusively composed of her own countrymen, yet she affected to treat all in England alike, and the bitter taunt of "Saxon" was

ever on her lips. The life of Eleanor offered a fearful example of the effects of temper, even when counterbalanced by the magic charms of beauty, riches, and rank. In early youth, the Queen of Henry the Second had been one of the handsomest women of her time; and later in life she preserved much that was striking and attractive, if all had not been marred by the violence of her temper, and the delight she seemed to take in doing injury to others. Very evidently portrayed upon her dark and sinister countenance were these traits of character.

Eleanor had been married very young to Louis the Seventh, King of France, who was so passionately attached to her, that he insisted upon her following him to the Holy Land. Nothing could have been less pleasing to the vain and giddy Eleanor, who dreaded the effect of the sun of Palestine on her complexion, as much as the

monotony of the journey with her fanatically pious husband. She, however, was forced to obey; but had contrived, by her sarcasms and ridicule, to render her presence anything but an acquisition to the devout and anxious Louis. No sooner, however, had they reached the East, than graver matter of reproach was furnished to the King, who immediately took advantage of it to separate from a wife who had proved so little congenial to his tastes. The mad passion which Eleanor had conceived for Raymond of Antioch (a prince whose beauty and grace were, at that time, the theme of all praise), was stated as the cause of the divorce which Louis soon afterwards obtained; but reports were not wanting that added many other faults to this one. The conduct of Eleanor directly afterwards, went far to justify these reports; for in less than six weeks from the time of the divorce, she offered her hand to

Henry, then Duke of Normandy, whom she had seen and admired when a visitor at the court of her husband.

Henry was not proof against such temptation. A beautiful princess, with seven provinces of France for her dowry, was a prize well worthy of his acceptance. In spite, therefore, of the efforts of Louis to prevent it, for the latter dreaded such an augmentation to the power of his vassal,— the marriage was immediately solemnised.

Many years had now elapsed, and the birth of several children might have drawn closer the bonds that seemed to have been forged by love; but such had not been the case. Henry, whose gay and easy nature might by good sense have been controlled, lost patience when subjected to the daily and hourly torment of a jealous and exacting wife; and Eleanor, who had married him merely for his beauty and his youth, soon grew

tired of both, and turned her eyes to newer charms, and attentions more flattering to her insatiable vanity than those of husband ever occupied by the welfare of a country for which she had neither sympathy nor care.

As this situation of affairs was by no means a secret, the Court was one hotbed of intrigue. If all hearts were with the King, Eleanor also had her followers and partisans. Her power was too great, her independence too acknowledged, to permit of her being treated with any neglect. She had places to give, honours to bestow, and riches which, if it suited her, she could scatter with no sparing hand. When, in any age, did these fail of producing their wonted effect?

Thus two parties existed beneath the same roof; but no overt act had yet declared a division of interests between the King and Queen. Eleanor was too crafty