having prevailed upon himself to leave it, passed several hours in succession in his cushioned chair. In vain his physician urged upon him the necessity of exercise, in order to counteract his tendency to revery and somnolency; the swollen state of his feet and ankles rendered it impossible for him to rise from his chair without severe pain, and he never attempted to do so until all his attendants had left the room, lest they should perceive the state of weakness to which he was reduced. Great, therefore, had been the effort we have described, when the monarch had for a time conquered the man, and where pride had supplied the place of strength. The only exercise which he ultimately consented to take was in the magnificent gardens of Versailles, where he was wheeled through the stately avenues, which he had himself planted, in a bath-chair; a prey to pain, which was visibly depicted upon his countenance, but which he supported with cold and silent dignity, too haughty to complain. The king grew daily worse. The disease was mortal, and he felt he was beyond the power of human aid. Bitterly Louis XIV. upon his death-bed expiated the faults and excesses of his past life. He wept over the profligacy of his youth, deplored the madness of his ambition, by which he had brought mourning into every corner of his kingdom. On the twenty-sixth of August, the king commanded all the great dignitaries and officers of the household to meet in his apartment, and addressed them in a firm voice, saying, “Gentlemen, I die in the faith and obedience of the Church. I desire your pardon for the bad example which I have set you. I have greatly to thank you for the manner in which you have served me, and request from you the same zeal and the same fidelity toward the dauphin. Farewell, gentlemen; I feel that this parting has affected not only myself, but you also. Forgive me. I trust that you will sometimes think of me when I am gone.”