g, in border, and in colour.

There were other suites produced at the Gobelins at this wonderful
time of co-operation between Colbert, the minister, and Lebrun, the
artist. Colbert, in his wisdom of state economy, had repaired the
ravages of the previous ministry, and had the coffers full for the
government's necessities and the king's indulgences. Well for the
liberal arts, that he counted these among the matters to be fostered
in this wonderful time, which rises like a mountain ridge between
feudal savagery and modern civilisation.

But Colbert, powerful as was his position, had yet to suffer by reason
of the despotism of the absolute monarch who ruled every one within
borders of bleeding France. Louis began, before youth had left him,
the terrible persecution of the people in the name of religion, and
established also an indulgent left-hand court. The prodigious
expenditures for these were bound to be liquidated by Colbert.
Faithful to his master, he produced the money.

The charm of royalty surrounded Louis, he was idealised by a people
proud of his position as the most magnificent monarch of Europe; but
Colbert was denounced as a tax collector and a persecutor, yet
suffered in silence, if he might protect his king. Before he died,
Louvois had undermined his credit even with the king, and his funeral
at night, to avoid a mob, was a pathetic fact. France has now
reinstated him, say modern men--but that is the irony of fate.

CHAPTER XI

THE GOBELINS FACTORY (_Continued_)

Colbert died most inopportunely in 1684 and was succeeded by his
enemy, and for that matter, the enemy of France, the man of jealousy
and cruelty, Louvois. He had long hated Colbert for his success,
counting as an affront to himself Colbert's marvellous establishment
of a navy which he felt rivalled in importance the army, over which
the direction was his own.

On finding Colbert's baton in his hand, it was but human to strike
with it as much as to direct, and one of his blows fell upon the head
of the Gobelins, Lebrun. Thus history is woven into tapestry. Lebrun
was not at once deposed; first his magnificent wings were clipped, so
that his flights into artistic originality were curtailed. This petty
persecution had a benumbing effect. New models were not encouraged.
Strangely enough, the scenes that glorified the king were no longer
reproduced, nor those of antique kings like Alexander, whose greatness
Louis was supposed to rival.