lamentably probable that he would have been misunderstood in his lifetime
and calumniated after his death.

Louis XIV was exposed to no such misconception. His qualities were on the
surface, visible and comprehensible to all; and although none of them was
brilliant, he had several which have a peculiarly impressive effect when
displayed in an exalted station. He was indefatigably industrious; worked
on an average eight hours a day for fifty-four years; had great tenacity
of will; that kind of solid judgment which comes of slowness of brain, and
withal a most majestic port and great dignity of manners. He had also as
much kindliness of nature as the very great can be expected to have; his
temper was under severe control; and, in his earlier years at least, he
had a moral apprehensiveness greater than the limitations of his intellect
would have led one to expect.

His conduct toward Moliere was throughout truly noble, and the more so that
he never intellectually appreciated Moliere's real greatness. But he must
have had great original fineness of tact, though it was in the end nearly
extinguished by adulation and incense. His court was an extraordinary
creation, and the greatest thing he achieved. He made it the microcosm of
all that was the most brilliant and prominent in France. Every order of
merit was invited there and received courteous welcome. To no circumstance
did he so much owe his enduring popularity. By its means he impressed into
his service that galaxy of great writers, the first and the last classic
authors of France, whose calm and serene lustre will forever illumine the
epoch of his existence. It may even be admitted that his share in that
lustre was not so accidental and undeserved as certain king-haters have
supposed.

That subtle critic, M. Sainte-Beuve, thinks he can trace a marked rise even