The daily exchange. [volume] (Baltimore, Md.) 1858-1861, 1861-05-03
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MIN, From the London Leisure Ho,.rl
The FALL OE THE frTTDTaIN nTrTS

:. THE u From the London Leisure Hoar.l
= AuE FALL OF THE CURTAlN-LOUIS XIV
e -" nen augustus Caesar was dying at the end {
l"hg reign, full of important action and wise rnr
~; III ne cdleu To his courtiers who stood b
bis pillow, and, with dramatic and wrII-under
stood allusion, inquired if he had nerfor,ned hi
part wslI He was told that he had NAnnIan
me them was the demand of the DIVING mona
. Inc sentiment Is capable Of translation into
4 higher and Christian sense. Every mans Hfo ;
o performance; the death of each is the close of
t real drama; and the approach of the terminatio,
suggests the inquiry propounded before all witness
ing beings, seen or unseen, whether the actor ha
performed his part well. 1t is for one alone how
ever, who has watched the process through all it
most secret movements, to answer the question wit
f the emphasis Of judicial sentence; and the grea
inquiry which ought to mold the whole aspect an
habits Of a mans life is-will lie applaud in tha
solemn hour?
There is scene in which such ques
ton can be more pertinent than one familiar
to every inhabitant of Paris, and to every
visitor OF that capita the magnificent palace
built by Louis WI. at Versailles. If the
external and material-if stone and paint
and varnish-can convey the idea of royalty, there
1t Is abundanty realized. The architect has left a
building which, though by means perfect, pro-
duces, b. its vastness and magniiceuca, a certain
| impression of grandeur the mind. Stately ter
races, wide and broad avenues, groups of statuary
aud all the varieties possible of glittering foun-
tans attest the skill of the landscape gardener
! The stately and sel'-loviag monarch who planned
and commanded this abode saw his manly and no.
bic form continually reflected in the lines of mir
rors Mt his side, exhibited among the ranks of
| immortals above his head 1t was nothing that
multiudes OF lives wasted in the difficulties of
| achieving the building and its ad0rnments; the re-
suit was palace worthy of the presence of mighty
King; and so long certain exploits of war and he
roiSm went to make up the complement of his false
| Iy named glory, cOurtiers and monarch were tain
to forget the wasted treasures the hecatombs of hu
man lives, the undermined nations the desoatng
nAnr oil
in its train. The monarch who glittered on these
walls as Mars, who bore upon his panels the en-
blem of the rising sun; whom mobiles envied and
s0vereigns praised, had gained in that hollow
name of glory, all for which he lived; and during
the greater part of his fe the theatrical pa oeant
passed off with unbounded applause, oyerpowering
the expressions of the detestaton of some and the
grOans of many more.
1t is with far different feelings however that the
spectator OF more modern times walks across the
deserted and darkened theatre. In vain he asks
as OF other dramas, to what purpose, except that
which was evil, all these gorgeous means and ap-
piiances were tending? Where now are the act
ors and what was the worthy part the mass Of
them performed? The beautiful, the gay the
brave, the proud, the self-convicted magnets of
popular attention, the high and mighty heroes,
whose laurels were besprnkled with the blood of
men-where are they now, and where is the ap-
plause for which they struggled and painted? 1t
Is as II the spirit Of another royal preacher
walked through these halls, proclaimng anew,
IOSterlty
passed its sentence; it is not that of approval.
Among the scenes exhibited to the stranger in
this luxurious palace, of special interest.
In the midst of long gallery, lined throughout
with mirrors, and exhibiting its ceiling the lost
fuisome adulatien which my biological pencil could
paint, side door opens upon the private apart
ments OF the monarch, at whose proud bidding all
this fairy structure arose. jealous has trea-
sured here many personal memorials of the past.
The table which lie Grand Monarque transacted
his business, and around which he assembled his
council; the Confessional where be unbosomed his
heart-miSerable compound that it was of vice and
supershtution-to his favOrite confessor whom vet
he could not trust without having within sight
n guard with drawn sword; the private cham
bers from which issued the cruel cdics which ex-
terminated spiritual religion from the soil of
France, yet to be seen. One room, espe-
cially, is remarkable 1t is the bedchamber
of the monarch, still existing as it did when
that long and wearisnme train of ceremonial la
bored to elevate the thing of dust into a deity and
when the proudest humbled themselves to catch a
passing glance Of favor each successive dav
from the kings bedside. Within these walls was |
enacted the longest performance which the annals
of royalty have recOrdeG; the attire was pertect |
the step of the leading maieStic the dec0ra-
tions of the scene in the highest degree superb; |
there was no lack of Incidents such love to |
witness and to record; and it within the !
room which we are now visiting that the curtain !
fell.
Death came heavily and unwccomely upon that |
infirm old man. As it drew near, it seemed as if he
would not die He met its summons by proclaim
ing grand review, at which his painted face and |
patched form exhibited to give the lie 10 the
current rumOrs of bis approaching end. In vain. I.
The eXerton fastened the crisis; fatigued, ex-
hausted, almost inanmate, he was borne from !
the parade to the couch on which he died. |
His morbund state, however, relaxed not .
single observance OF the usual rigorous cere- !
monial. The pomp of the court clustered |
around the chamber which none dared to enter /
eexcept at a special summons from the diving |
sovereign. 1t was deeply affecting scene Age,
bereavement, reverseS, had borne heavily on the |
last years Of the monarch's life till the pressure
from without, and the seyerer Sefreproach from |
within, had changed him into morose old man, |
from whose presence even his nearest companions |
shrunk with ennui and disgust. He had long out
Tff & Rls a Rs FeffhF s hsre SS migbt fsfTen bd and
messed the efforts of some to induce the dying |
monarch to remember their claims with his last |
BREATH aud to alter his will in their favor; and,
on the other hand, the opposition of those interest
ed in preserving intact the arrangements they knew
him to have made. There might be seen the here
to!ore neglected Duke of Orleans receiving sud |
den overflow of homage from parastical court |
because it was known that he had been nominated /
as the future Regent; to be forsaken again, when /
bold enpiric declared himself able to cure .
the royal malady. But real regret at the mon
monarch's state scarcely to be discovered, ex-
cept among the menial servants, to whom he had !
been usually an ndulgent master. Even his wife, I
Madame de Manenon, shrunk from him who had .
elevated her to be his companion, though he had /
denied her the rights of q queen: and, amidst the /
scene of death, was busy in gathering together her
moveables, and securing her precious property and
interests. How was it possible that sentiments of
true regard could accompany the death-bed of one,
by whose life morals mad been outraged, public
treasures exhausted human life ted n
significant bauble, and great nation brought so
low that the wsest financiers turned with shud-
der from the dark future? "That man." said his
most trusted female friend, "has never loved any
one but himself"
walls of that dying the heads of Louiss pen-
did court. Uniforms end jewels blazed upon their
wearers, and the magnifcence of the scene pre-
sented awful contrast to the appearance
of the departing old before whom all
this array had been summoned, and to the
words which mobiles had been called to.
gether to hear. The pomp and glory of the world
could conceal from no eye the drearineSs of the
monarchs spirit. "Gentemen, | desire your par
don for the bad example have set you" y : x
''Farewell, gentlemen: feel that this parting has
affected not only myself, but you also. Forgive
me. | trust that you will sometimes think of me
when am gone" The courtiers rose and slowly
disappeared, and long pause Of ominous silence
followed. 1t was only broken. by the kings ad-
dressing the child who was TO be his future success
sor. "My child, you are about to become great
king; do not initiate me in nay taste for building,
or in nv love for war. Strive to relieve the bur-
dens of the people, in which have been untortu-
nate enough to fail; render to God that which you
owe Him, and cause His name to be hOnored by
your subjects" Two days after, somewhat SINH
lar scene was repeated, when the most arbitrary
and self-wiled of despos said before his nobles:-
"If have erred, my guides (referring more es
peciay to his cunfessors) must answer before God,
whom | call to witness this assertion"
As the kings disorder advanced, amputati0n
of one of his limbs, which had already mortified,
was proposed by his physicians. "Wi the opera
ton prolong my life ?' was the demand. He
'old it might for davs, even for weeks. lf that
be all the result will not be equal to the suffering.
Gods will be done" He now took leave OF the
members of his family, made his last dispositions
and began to speak of his reign as already past,
saving When | was king" One incident record
ed of his last hours, indicated still . the ruling pas
sion strong in death" Observing some OF his at
tendants in tears, he sad "Why do you weep
Did YOU imagine that was immortal"
Nothing marks mans humiliation more than the
manner in which certain effects survive their au-
thors. Within that proud palace which his hands
had reared, every wall Of which contained
some memorial of his exploits, Louis NV. at
length Law, an insignificant mass Of unconscious
CLAW When his remains were borne to the
church, and laid down in the midst OF those as
sembled mobiles who had once trembled at his
lghtest word and paid homage to him whom they
designated Louis the Great what force there was in
the oneniup words of Massion's oration, he bent
his ewes upon the bier. and then fixed them mourn
fully upon his electrified audience-"My brethren,
God alone is great !"
Such was the fall of the curtain upon one who
had filled proud niche in Europe's temple of fame,
but who died amid the shivering ruins of his own
structure of heartess vanity, leaving cotemporareS
to forget the name of hero in that of unfortunate
and nsupportabe old man, posterity to adopt
oThe name at which the world turn pale
To point moral and adorn tale
and the Christian man to shudder at the heights oil
! wnrIdIv ambition and to pity and mourn over the
! Gegradation of its inevitable downfall. Who will
appaud .