ead throughout the
kingdom, placed him in a very unenviable position. The marquis would
probably have passed the rest of his life in one of the _oubliettes_
of the Bastile had he not escaped from France. Madame de Montespan, in
her wonderfully frank Memoirs, records all these facts without any
apparent consciousness of the infamy to which they consign her memory.
She even claims the merit of protecting her injured husband from the
dungeon, saying,

"Not being naturally of a bad disposition, I never would allow of his
being sent to the Bastile."

There were continual antagonisms arising between Madame de la Valliere
and Madame de Montespan. They were both ladies of honor in the
household of the queen, who, silent and sad, and ever seeking
retirement, endeavored to close her eyes to the guilty scenes
transpiring around her. Sin invariably brings sorrow. The king,
supremely selfish as he was, must have been a stranger to any peace of
mind. He professed full faith in Christianity. Even lost spirits may
believe and tremble. The precepts of Jesus were often faithfully
proclaimed from the pulpit in his hearing. Remorse must have
frequently tortured his soul.

From these domestic tribulations he sought relief in the vigorous
prosecution of his plans for national aggrandizement. He plunged into
diplomatic intrigues, marshaled armies, built ships, multiplied and
enlarged his sea-ports, established colonies, reared magnificent
edifices, encouraged letters, and with great sagacity pushed all
enterprises which could add to the glory and power of France.

The king had never been on good terms with his brother Philip. Louis
was arrogant and domineering. Philip was jealous, and not disposed
obsequiously to bow the knee to his imperious brother. The king was
unrelenting in the exactions of etiquette. There were three seats used
in the presence of royalty: the arm-chair, for members of the royal
family; the folded chair, something like a camp-stool, for the highest
of the nobility; and the bench, for other dignitaries who were honored
with a residence at court. Philip demanded of his brother that his
wife, Henrietta, the daughter of Charles I. of England, and the sister
of Louis XIII., being of royal blood, should be allowed the privilege
of taking an arm-chair in the saloons of the queen. The king made the
following remarkable reply:

"That can not be permitted. I beg of you not to persist in such a
request. It was not I who esta