The end of the monarch was approaching.  His reign, peaceful in general, had inherited strength from the power of his predecessor; on the other hand, his own weakness had been preparing misfortune for whoever should reign after him.  The scene was about to change; hope, ambition, joy, grief, and all those feelings which variously affected the hearts of the courtiers, sought in vain to disguise themselves under a calm exterior.  It was easy to detect the different motives which induced them every moment to repeat to every one the question:  “How is the King?” At length, on the 10th of May, 1774, the mortal career of Louis xv. terminated.

[Christopher de Beaumont, Archbishop of Paris, the ardent apostle of frequent communion, arrived at Paris with the intention of soliciting, in public, the administration of the sacrament to the King, and secretly retarding it as much as possible.  The ceremony could not take place without the previous and public expulsion of the, concubine, according to the canons of the Church and the Jesuitical party, of which Christopher was the leader.  This party, which had made use of Madame du Barry to suppress the Parliaments, to support the Duc d’Aiguillon, and ruin the Choiseul faction, could not willingly consent to disgrace her canonically.  The Archbishop went into the King’s bedchamber, and found there Madame Adelaide, the Duc d’Aumont, the Bishop of Senlis, and Richelieu, in whose presence he resolved not to say one word about confession for that day.  This reticence so encouraged Louis xv. that, on the Archbishop withdrawing, he had Madame du Barry called in, and kissed her beautiful hands again with his wonted affection.  On the 2d of May the King found himself a little better.  Madame du Barry had brought him two confidential physicians, Lorry and Borden, who were enjoined to conceal the nature of his sickness from him in order to keep off the priests and save her from a humiliating dismissal.  The King’s improvement allowed Madame du Barry to divert him by her usual playfulness and conversation.  But La Martiniere, who was of the Choiseul party, and to whom they durst not refuse his right of entry, did not conceal from the King either the nature or the danger of his sickness.  The King then sent for Madame du Barry, and said to her:  “My love, I have got the smallpox, and my illness is very dangerous on account of my age and other disorders.  I ought not to forget that I am the most Christian King, and the eldest son of the Church.  I am sixty-four; the time is perhaps approaching when we must separate.  I wish to prevent a scene like that of Metz.” (when, in 1744, he had dismissed the Duchesse de Chateauroux.) “Apprise the Duc d’Aiguillon of what I say, that he may arrange with you if my sickness grows worse; so that we may part without any publicity.”  The Jansenists and the Duc de Choiseurs party publicly said that M. d’Aiguillon and the Archbishop had resolved to let the King die without receiving the