By the detection of the Cellamare conspiracy, in 1718, a large accession of prisoners fell to the share of the Bastile. Wounded female pride had the chief share in getting up that conspiracy. The Duchess of Maine was the prime mover. This princess, whose small frame was animated by a high and restless spirit, had seen her family degraded in a manner which it was not unnatural that she should violently resent. By an edict, dated in 1710, Louis XIV. not only granted to the Duke of Maine, and his other legitimated children, the same rank and honours which were enjoyed by princes of the blood, but also declared them capable of inheriting the crown, on failure of descendants in the legitimate branches. This step was highly offensive to the French peers, and was opposed by the parliament; but, while the king lived, resistance was unavailing. But the scene was about to change. Though Louis had reinforced his decree by a declaration in 1714, and by a clause in his testament, his death soon afforded another proof of the little respect that is paid to a deceased despot. The will, as every one knows, was set aside, without a voice being heard in support of it. In 1717, at the instance of the Duke of Bourbon, and the peers, the council of regency deprived the legitimated princes of all the privileges of princes of the blood, with the exception of a seat in the parliament. It was in vain that the Duchess of Maine and her partisans moved heaven and earth to avert this blow; all their writings, speeches, and manœuvres, were entirely thrown away. It must, however, be owned, that the duchess displayed wonderful talent and industry on this occasion; while the struggle continued, she was constantly to be seen half buried in a pile of dusty volumes, records, and other documents, in which she sought arguments and examples to support her cause. When the dreaded blow was finally struck, her passion rose to the highest pitch. “There is nothing left to me now,” exclaimed she to her more patient husband, “but the shame of having married you!” In the following year fresh fuel was heaped upon the flame. The Duke of Maine was reduced to take rank below all the peers, except those who were created posterior to 1694, and was likewise divested of the tutorship of the young king, which was assumed by the Duke of Bourbon. This gave rise to another outbreak of passion on the part of the duchess, who, on receiving notice to give up to the triumphant Bourbon the official apartments in the Tuileries, broke the glasses, the china, and everything which she had strength enough to destroy. Thus stung to the quick, she resorted to conspiracy for vengeance, and she speedily rallied round her a band of subaltern intriguers and discontented politicians. To expel the Duke of Orleans from the regency, and place the government under the tutelage of Philip V. of Spain, was the design of the plotters. The Spanish monarch, who detested the Duke of Orleans, and who, in spite of