forage, when that army was expending all its energies, during the Seven Years’ War, against the troops of Maria Theresa.  He judged that his wife was capable of taking care of herself.  And she was.  Notwithstanding these traits of character, he was an exceedingly amiable and charitable man, distributing annually five hundred thousand dollars for the relief of distress.  Many anecdotes are related illustrative of the emperor’s utter fearlessness of danger, and of the kindness of his heart.  There was a terrible conflagration in Vienna.  A saltpeter magazine was in flames, and the operatives exposed to great danger.  An explosion was momentarily expected, and the firemen, in dismay, ventured but little aid.  The emperor, regardless of peril, approached near the fire to give directions.  His attendants urged him not thus to expose his person.

“Do not be alarmed for me,” said the emperor, “think only of those poor creatures who are in such danger of perishing.”

At another time a fearful inundation swept the valley of the Danube.  Many houses were submerged in isolated positions, all but their roofs.  In several cases the families had taken refuge on the tops of the houses, and had remained three days and three nights without food.  Immense blocks of ice, swept down by the flood, seemed to render it impossible to convey relief to the sufferers.  The most intrepid boatmen of the Danube dared not venture into the boiling surge.  The emperor threw himself into a boat, seized the oars, and saying, “My example may at least influence others,” pushed out into the flood and successfully rowed to one of the houses.  The boatmen were shamed into heroism, and the imperiled people were saved.

Maria Theresa does not appear to have been very deeply afflicted by the death of her husband; or we should, perhaps, rather say that her grief assumed the character which one would anticipate from a person of her peculiar frame of mind.  The emperor had not been faithful to his kingly spouse, and she was well acquainted with his numerous infidelities.  Still she seems affectionately to have cherished the memory of his gentle virtues.  With her own hands she prepared his shroud, and she never after laid aside her weeds of mourning.  She often descended into the vault where his remains were deposited, and passed hours in prayer by the side of his coffin.

Joseph, of course, having been preelected, immediately assumed the imperial crown.  Maria Theresa had but little time to devote to grief.  She had lost Silesia, and that was a calamity apparently far heavier than the death of her husband.  Millions of treasure, and countless thousands of lives had been expended, and all in vain, for the recovery of that province.  She now began to look around for territory she could grasp in compensation for her loss.  Poland was surrounded by Austria, Russia and Prussia.  The population consisted of two classes—­the nobles who possessed all the power, and the people