the wheel. Sixty citizens have been seized, and to-morrow the hanging will
begin." In other letters she writes that the tenth man had been broken on
the wheel, and she thinks he will be the last, and that by dint of hanging
it will soon be left off.

Such was the emaciated France which Louis the Great picked systematically
to the bone for the next thirty-five years. He had long ceased to be guided
by the patriotic wisdom of the great Colbert. His evil genius now was the
haughty and reckless Louvois, who carefully abstained from imitating the
noble and daring remonstrances against excessive expenditure which Colbert
addressed to his master, and through which he lost his influence at court.
Still, with a self-abnegation really heroic, Colbert begged, urged,
supplicated the King to reduce his outlay. He represented the misery of
the people. "All letters that come from the provinces, whether from the
intendants, the receivers-general, and even the bishops, speak of it," he
wrote to the King. He insisted on a reduction of the taille by five or six
millions; and surely it was time, when its collection gave rise to such
scenes as have just been described. It was in vain. The King shut his eyes
to mercy and reason. His gigantic war expenditure, when peace came, was
only partially reduced. For, indeed, he was still at war, but with nature
and self-created difficulties of his own making.

He was building Versailles: transplanting to its arid sands whole groves
of full-grown trees from the depths of distant forests, and erecting the
costly and fantastic marvel of Marli to afford a supply of water. Louis'
buildings cost, first and last, a sum which would be represented by about
twenty million pounds. The amount squandered on pensions was also very
great. The great Colbert's days were drawing to a close, and he was very
sad. It is related that a friend on one occasion surprised him looking out
of a window in his chateau of Sceau, lost in thought and apparently gazing