He married a legitimated daughter of Louis XIV., Marie Francoise de Blois, a haughty, capricious beauty. His scandalous immoralities alienated his duchess from him, and no happiness was to be found amidst the splendors of their home. Dying suddenly, at the age of fifty-one, his son Louis succeeded him in the vast opulence, the titles, and the power of the dukedom of Orleans. The following list of his titles may give some idea of the grandeur to which these ancient nobles were born. Louis de Valois, De Chartres, De Nemours, and De Montpensier, First Prince of the blood, First Peer of France, Knight of the Golden Fleece, Colonel-general of the French and Foreign Infantry, Governor of Dauphiny, and Grand Master of the Orders of Notre Dame, of Mount Carmel, and of St. Lazarus of Jerusalem. Born, as this young man was, in the palace of splendor, and surrounded by every allurement to voluptuous indulgence, two domestic calamities opened his eyes to the vanity of all earthly grandeur, and led him to enter those paths of piety where his soul found true repose. The death of his father, cut down suddenly in the midst of his godless revelry, and the decease of his beloved wife, Auguste Marie Jeanne, a princess of Baden, in her twenty-second year, so impressed him with the uncertainty of all terrestrial good, and left his home and his heart so desolate, that he retired to the Abbey of St. Genevieve, and devoted the remainder of his days to study, to prayer, and to active works of Christian usefulness. He became a proficient in the fine arts, an accomplished scholar, and a patron of all those literary men whose works tended to benefit society. He founded hospitals and literary institutions; established a college at Versailles; endowed a professorship at the Sorbonne for expounding the Hebrew text of the Scriptures, and translated, from the original Greek and Hebrew, the Epistles of Paul and the Psalms of David. At the early age of forty-eight he died--cheerfully fell asleep in Jesus, rejoicing in the hope of a heavenly inheritance. Few men who have ever lived have crowded their days with more kind, useful, and generous actions.