ied in the choir of the church of Saint-Cyr, where a modest slab of
marble indicated the spot where her body reposed until, in 1794, when
the church was being transformed into hospital wards, "the workmen
opened the vault, and took out the body and dragged it into the court
with dreadful yells and threw it, stripped and mutilated, into a hole
in the cemetery."

The greatest work of Mme. de Maintenon was the founding of the
Seminary of Saint-Cyr, which the king granted to her about the time
of their marriage and of his illness; it was probably intended as the
penance of a sick man who wished to make reparation for the wrongs
inflicted upon some of the young girls of the nobility, and as a
wedding gift to Mme. de Maintenon. There, aided by nuns, she cared
for and educated two hundred and fifty pupils, dowerless daughters of
impoverished nobles. It was "the veritable offspring of her who was
never a daughter, a wife, nor a mother." There she was happy and
content; there she recalled her own youth when she was poor and
forsaken; there she found respite from the turmoils and agitations of
Versailles; there she was supreme; there she governed absolutely and
was truly loved.

For thirty years she was queen at Saint-Cyr, visiting it every other
day and teaching the young girls for whom it was a protection against
the world. Since childhood, she had been so accustomed to serve
herself, to wait upon others and to care for the smallest details of
the management of the household, that she introduced this spirit into
society and at Saint-Cyr, where she managed every detail, from the
linen to the provisions; this showed a reasonable and well-balanced
mind, but not any high order of intelligence.

Of the young girls in her charge, she desired to make model women,
characterized by simplicity and piety; they were to be free from
morbid curiosity of mind, were to practise absolute self-denial and
to devote their lives to a practical labor. Her advice was: "Be
reasonable or you will be unhappy; if you are haughty, you will be
reminded of your misery, but if you are humble, people will recall
your birth.... Commence by making yourself loved, without which you
will never succeed. Is it not true that, had you not loved me or had
you had an aversion for me, you would not have accepted, with such
good grace, the counsels that I have given you? This is absolutely
certain--the most beautiful things when taught by persons who
displease us, do