One of the first exploits of Louis XIII. was the capture of the town and castle of Saumur, by deceit and treachery. Duplessis-Mornay had been governor of the place from the reign of Henry III. He kept it as a town of hostage, granted by the edicts; and as it commanded the course of the Loire, it was of great importance to the Calvinist party. The Constable de Luynes demanded ingress in the name of the king, promising that the immunities of Saumur should be as safe as the eye of the governor, and to this “_he pledged his word, as well as that of his majesty, with his own mouth, which was also confirmed by M. de Lesdiguières_.” Mornay opened the gates of the fortress, and led out, according to custom, the Calvinist garrison. But as soon as the king had entered with his troops, he declared that he took definite possession of Saumur. To give to this breach of faith the appearance of an amicable arrangement, Mornay was offered, beside payment of the arrears of his appointment, one hundred thousand crowns and a marshal’s bâton. He retorted with indignation, that if he had loved money, he might have gained millions under the preceding reigns, and that, as for dignities, he had always been more desirous of rendering himself worthy of them, than of obtaining them. “I cannot, either in conscience or honour,” he added, “traffic in the liberty or safety of others.” He went to dwell in his house, where he died on the 11th of November, 1623. His last hours were full of serenity. “We saw clearly the Gospel of the Son of God engraved on his heart by the Holy Ghost,” said the almoner of his family, Jean Daillé; “we saw him in the midst of death firmly possessed of life, and enjoying a full contentment at a moment when all men are usually shaken with fear. And this lesson was so striking and efficacious, that even those who suffered most from his loss, reaped both joy and edification.” He made his confession of faith, avowing that he had received much, and had little profited. And when he was told that he had faithfully employed his talent: “Ah! what is there of mine?” he exclaimed. “Do not say I, but God through me.” Philippe de Mornay was the last representative of that great and strong generation, which had received the lessons of Calvin, and the examples of Coligny. He had shown that it is possible to preserve, during half a century, even in those worst of all wars, the wars of religion, a spotless name, an irreproachable character, conduct always even, and a humane and generous nature. This is the highest glory to which man can attain.