related illustrative of the emperor's utter fearlessness of danger, and
of the kindness of his heart. There was a terrible conflagration in
Vienna. A saltpeter magazine was in flames, and the operatives exposed
to great danger. An explosion was momentarily expected, and the firemen,
in dismay, ventured but little aid. The emperor, regardless of peril,
approached near the fire to give directions. His attendants urged him
not thus to expose his person.

"Do not be alarmed for me," said the emperor, "think only of those poor
creatures who are in such danger of perishing."

At another time a fearful inundation swept the valley of the Danube.
Many houses were submerged in isolated positions, all but their roofs.
In several cases the families had taken refuge on the tops of the
houses, and had remained three days and three nights without food.
Immense blocks of ice, swept down by the flood, seemed to render it
impossible to convey relief to the sufferers. The most intrepid boatmen
of the Danube dared not venture into the boiling surge. The emperor
threw himself into a boat, seized the oars, and saying, "My example may
at least influence others," pushed out into the flood and successfully
rowed to one of the houses. The boatmen were shamed into heroism, and
the imperiled people were saved.

Maria Theresa does not appear to have been very deeply afflicted by the
death of her husband; or we should, perhaps, rather say that her grief
assumed the character which one would anticipate from a person of her
peculiar frame of mind. The emperor had not been faithful to his kingly
spouse, and she was well acquainted with his numerous infidelities.
Still she seems affectionately to have cherished the memory of his
gentle virtues. With her own hands she prepared his shroud, and she
never after laid aside her weeds of mourning. She often descended into
the vault where his remains were deposited, and passed hours in prayer
by the side of his coffin.

Joseph, of course, having been preelected, immediately assumed the
imperial crown. Maria Theresa had but little time to devote to grief.
She had lost Silesia, and that was a calamity apparently far heavier
than the death of her husband. Millions of treasure, and countless
thousands of lives had been expended, and all in vain, for the recovery
of that province. She now began to look around for territory she could
grasp in compensation for her loss. Poland was surrounded by Austria,
Russia an