In 1666, Louis XIV. lost his mother, Anne of Austria; Philip IV., her father, had died the preceding year. When Louis married Maria Theresa, that princess had formally renounced all right of succession to Spain or the Austrian dominions; but Louis, now heedless of this renunciation, immediately laid claim to Flanders, to the exclusion of Charles II., the minor son of Philip IV. The pretence he assigned was, that the queen’s dowry not having been paid, her renunciation was null and void, and he invoked a custom of Brabant, by which eldest daughters inherited in preference to younger sons. He supported these claims by a numerous army; won over the emperor Leopold, by giving him hopes he might share the spoils of Charles II., and took the field at the head of his household. Turenne commanded under him; Vauban, and his minister Louvois, accompanied him. We have often, when contemplating this siege of Tournai, wondered what Louis could really think of himself--what he imagined his position actually was in the scale of humanity. He proceeded to the infliction of war upon an unoffending people--of war, the direst evil we know or can fancy,--with all the “pride, pomp, and circumstance” of a barbarous Eastern despot. Darius, when he met Alexander, was scarcely surrounded with so much splendour, and perhaps not so many indulgent comforts, and, what is still more striking, did not in the eyes of his people so completely violate all that the civilized world deems moral or worthy of being an example. He was accompanied by his queen and his then adored mistress, the fascinating Montespan, with whom he lived in a state of double adultery. His court was with him in all its splendour; he had his historian to record the exploits of his generals and his armies, and his poets to sing his praises and attribute every success to his divine presence. Here was a beleaguered town, suffering all the horrors of a siege, with almost the certainty of being taken; there was an army appearing to invade the rights of another nation in mere wantonness, indulging in voluptuous vice, and, in contrast with the town, passing its nights in festivity, song, music, and dancing; vice and cruelty, pleasure and suffering, throwing each other into the strongest relief.