more extraordinary
importation of an ignorant crack-brained peasant, who, from laziness probably,
had shut himself up in a cave, and renounced flesh, fish, eggs, or the produce
of the dairy. This man, who did not possess the slightest tincture of letters,
Louis reverenced as if he had been the Pope himself, and to gain his goodwill
founded two cloisters.
    It was not the least singular circumstance of this course of superstition,
that bodily health and terrestrial felicity seemed to be his only object. Making
any mention of his sins when talking on the state of his health was strictly
prohibited; and when at his command a priest recited a prayer to Saint
Eutropius, in which he recommended the King's welfare both in body and soul,
Louis caused the two last words to be omitted, saying it was not prudent to
importune the blessed saint by too many requests at once. Perhaps he thought by
being silent on his crimes, he might suffer them to pass out of the recollection
of the celestial patrons, whose aid he invoked for his body.
    So great were the well-merited tortures of this tyrant's deathbed, that
Philip des Comines enters into a regular comparison between them and the
numerous cruelties inflicted on others by his order; and considering both, comes
to express an opinion, that the worldly pangs and agony suffered by Louis were
such as might compensate the crimes he had committed, and that, after a
reasonable quarantine in purgatory, he might in mercy be found duly qualified
for the superior regions.
    Fénélon also has left his testimony against this prince, whose mode of
living and governing he has described in the following remarkable passage: -
    »Pygmalion, tourmenté par une soif insatiable des richesses, se rend de plus
en plus misérable et odieux à ses sujets. C'est un crime à Tyr que d'avoir de
grands biens; l'avarice le rend défiant, soupçonneux, cruel; il persécute les
riches, et il craint les pauvres.
    C'est un crime encore plus grand à Tyr d'avoir de la vertu; car Pygmalion
suppose que les bons ne peuvent souffrir ses injustices et ses infamies; la
vertu le condamne, il s'aigrit et s'irrite contre elle. Tout l'agite,
l'inquiète, le ronge; il a peur de son ombre; il ne dort ni nuit ni jour; les
Dieux, pour le confondre, l'accablent de trésors dont il n'ose jouir; Ce qu'il
cherche pour être heureux est précisément ce qui l'empêche de l'être. Il
regrette tout