r any opposition to his arms. The destructive genius
of Louvois had suggested that these unnecessary spoliations would tend
to increase the authority of his royal master by inspiring a greater
terror of his power.

Soon after this, the queen, Maria Theresa, was suddenly taken sick.
Her indisposition, at first slight, rapidly increased in severity, and
an abscess developed itself under her arm. The pain became
excruciating. Her physician opened a vein and administered an emetic
at 11 o'clock in the morning. It was a fatal prescription. At 3
o'clock in the afternoon she died. As this unhappy queen, so gentle,
so loving, so forgiving, was sinking away in death, she still, with
woman's deathless love, cherished tenderly in her heart the memory of
the king. Just as she was breathing her last, she drew from her finger
a superb ring, which she presented to Madame de Maintenon saying,

"Adieu, my very dear marchioness. To you I confide the happiness of
the king."

Maria Theresa was one of the most lovely of women. Her conduct was
ever irreproachable. Amiable, unselfish, warm-hearted, from the time
of her marriage she devoted herself to the promotion of the happiness
of her husband. His neglect and unfaithfulness caused her, in secret,
to shed many tears. Naturally diffident, and rendered timid by his
undisguised indifference, she trembled whenever the king approached
her. A casual smile from him filled her with delight. The king could
not be insensible to her many virtues. Perhaps remorse was mingled
with the emotions which compelled him to weep bitterly over her death.
As he gazed upon her lifeless remains, he exclaimed,

"Kind and forbearing friend, this is the first sorrow that you have
caused me throughout twenty years."

[Illustration: PALACE OF VERSAILLES.]

The royal corpse lay in state at Versailles for ten days. During this
time perpetual masses were performed for the soul of the departed from
7 o'clock in the morning until dark. The king had reared the gorgeous
palace of Versailles that he might not be annoyed, in his Babylonian
revelry, by the sight of the towers of St. Denis. But God did not
allow the guilty monarch to forget that kings as well as peasants were
doomed to die. The king was compelled to accompany the remains of
Maria Theresa from the sumptuous palace, where she had found so
splendid and so unhappy a home, to the gloomy vaults of the abbey,
where, in darkness and silence, those remains were to m