on the well-tilled fields of his own manor. When he came out of his reverie
his friend asked him his thoughts. "As I look," he said, "on these fertile
fields, I cannot help remembering what I have seen elsewhere. What a rich
country is France! If the King's enemies would let him enjoy peace it would
be possible to procure the people that relief and comfort which the great
Henry promised them. I could wish that my projects had a happy issue, that
abundance reigned in the kingdom, that everyone were content in it, and
that without employment or dignities, far from the court and business, I
saw the grass grow in my home farm."

The faithful, indefatigable worker was breaking down, losing strength,
losing heart, but still struggling on manfully to the last. It was noticed
that he sat down to his work with a sorrowful, despondent look, and not,
as had been his wont, rubbing his hands with the prospect of toil, and
exulting in his almost superhuman capacity for labor. The ingratitude of
the King, whom he had served only too well, gave him the final blow. Louis,
with truculent insolence, reproached him with the "frightful expenses" of
Versailles. As if they were Colbert's fault. Colbert, who had always urged
the completion of the Louvre and the suppression of Versailles.

At last the foregone giant lay down to die. A tardy touch of feeling
induced Louis to write him a letter. He would not read it. "I will hear no
more about the King," he said; "let him at least allow me to die in
peace. My business now is with the King of kings. If," he continued,
unconsciously, we may be sure, plagiarizing Wolsey, "if I had done for God
what I have done for that man, my salvation would be secure ten times over;
and now I know not what will become of me."

Surely a tender and touching evidence of sweetness in the strong man
who had been so readily accused of harshness by grasping courtiers. The