f an artful old woman,
who was the puppet of more artful priests. 3. The conqueror had quite
forgotten his early knack of conquering. 5. The terror of his enemies
(for 4, the marvel of his age, we pretermit, it being a loose term, that
may apply to any person or thing) was now terrified by his enemies in
turn. 6. The love of his people was as heartily detested by them as
scarcely any other monarch, not even his great-grandson, has been,
before or since. 7. The arbiter of peace and war was fain to send superb
ambassadors to kick their heels in Dutch shopkeepers' ante-chambers. 8,
is again a general term. 9. The man fit to be master of the universe,
was scarcely master of his own kingdom. 10. The finished hero was all
but finished, in a very commonplace and vulgar way. And 11. The man
worthy of immortality was just at the point of death, without a friend
to soothe or deplore him; only withered old Maintenon to utter prayers
at his bedside, and croaking Jesuits to prepare him,* with heaven knows
what wretched tricks and mummeries, for his appearance in that Great
Republic that lies on the other side of the grave. In the course of his
fourscore splendid miserable years, he never had but one friend, and he
ruined and left her. Poor La Valliere, what a sad tale is yours! "Look
at this Galerie des Glaces," cries Monsieur Vatout, staggering with
surprise at the appearance of the room, two hundred and forty-two feet
long, and forty high. "Here it was that Louis displayed all the grandeur
of royalty; and such was the splendor of his court, and the luxury of
the times, that this immense room could hardly contain the crowd of
courtiers that pressed around the monarch." Wonderful! wonderful! Eight
thousand four hundred and sixty square feet of courtiers! Give a square
yard to each, and you have a matter of three thousand of them. Think of
three thousand courtiers per day, and all the chopping and changing
of them for near forty years: some of them dying, some getting their
wishes, and retiring to their provinces to enjoy their plunder; some
disgraced, and going home to pine away out of the light of the sun;**
new ones perpetually arriving,--pushing, squeezing, for their place,
in the crowded Galerie des Glaces. A quarter of a million of noble
countenances, at the very least, must those glasses have reflected.
Rouge, diamonds, ribbons, patches, upon the faces of smiling ladies:
towering periwigs, sleek shaven crowns, tufted moustaches,