lackey, the porter, as well as the Minister of State, the Grand Seigneur, the General, all so naturally that success was certain.  He was consequently the constant delight of every one, of the Court, the armies; the divinity of the people, the idol of the soldiers, the hero of the officers, the hope of whatever was most distinguished, the love of the Parliament, the friend of the learned, and often the admiration of the historian, of jurisconsults, of astronomers, and mathematicians, the most profound.  He was especially learned in genealogies, and knew their chimeras and their realities.  With him the useful and the polite, the agreeable and the deep, all was distinct and in its place.  He had friends, knew how to choose them, cultivate them, visit them, live with them, put himself on their level without haughtiness or baseness.  But this man, so amiable, so charming, so delicious, loved nothing.  He had and desired friends, as other people have and desire articles of furniture.  Although with much self-respect he was a humble courtier, and showed too much how greatly he was in want of support and assistance from all sides; he was avaricious, greedy of fortune, ardent and unjust.  The King could not bear him, and was grieved with the respect he was obliged to show him, and which he was careful never to trespass over by a single jot.  Certain intercepted letters had excited a hatred against him in Madame de Maintenon, and an indignation in the King which nothing could efface.  The riches, the talents, the agreeable qualities, the great reputation which this Prince had acquired, the general love of all, became crimes in him.  The contrast with M. du Maine excited daily irritation and jealousy.  The very purity of his blood was a reproach to him.  Even his friends were odious, and felt that this was so.  At last, however, various causes made him to be chosen, in the midst of a very marked disgrace, to command the army in Flanders.  He was delighted, and gave himself up to the most agreeable hopes.  But it was no longer time:  he had sought to drown his sorrow at wearing out his life unoccupied in wine and other pleasures, for which his age and his already enfeebled body were no longer suited.  His health gave way.  He felt it soon.  The tardy return to favour which he had enjoyed made him regret life more.  He perished slowly, regretting to have been brought to death’s door by disgrace, and the impossibility of being restored by the unexpected opening of a brilliant career.

The Prince, against the custom of those of his rank, had been very well educated.  He was full of instruction.  The disorders of his life had clouded his knowledge but not extinguished it, and he often read to brush up his learning.  He chose M. de la Tour to prepare him, and help him to die well.  He was so attached to life that all his courage was required.  For three months crowds of visitors filled his palace, and the people even collected in