'His wit to scandal never stooping,
His mirth ne'er to buffoonery drooping.'

As Philibert grew up, the two aristocratic professions of France were
presented for his choice: the army, or the church. Neither of these
vocations constitutes now the ambition of the high-born in France: the
church, to a certain extent, retains its _prestige_, but the army, ever
since officers have risen from the ranks, does not comprise the same
class of men as in England. In the reign of Louis XIII., when De
Grammont lived it was otherwise. All political power was vested in the
church. Richelieu was, to all purposes, the ruler of France, the
dictator of Europe; and, with regard to the church, great men, at the
head of military affairs, were daily proving to the world, how much
intelligence could effect with a small numerical power. Young men took
one course or another: the sway of the cabinet, on the one hand, tempted
them to the church; the brilliant exploits of Turenne, and of Condé, on
the other, led them to the camp. It was merely the difference of dress
between the two that constituted the distinction: the soldier might be
as pious as the priest, the priest was sure to be as worldly as the
soldier; the soldier might have ecclesiastical preferment; the priest
sometimes turned out to fight.

Philibert de Grammont chose to be a soldier. He was styled the Chevalier
de Grammont, according to custom, his father being still living. He
fought under Turenne, at the siege of Trino. The army in which he served
was beleaguering that city when the gay youth from the banks of the
Garonne joined it, to aid it not so much by his valour as by the fun,
the raillery, the off-hand anecdote, the ready, hearty companionship
which lightened the soldier's life in the trenches: adieu to