tenances of the toilette—her every sense was put to the torture; but she shewed no impatience, and uttered no complaint.
On the 4th of August she found herself better, and hopes began to be entertained of her recovery. She was brought from St. Germain's to Paris, to the convent of Val-de-Grace; but did not remain there long. The ceremonies necessary to be observed on opening the doors, put the physicians out of patience, and she was carried to the Louvre. But the unfavourable symptoms again appearing, she was obliged to submit to most painful operations. On the 16th of January, 1666, a new erisipelas appeared—her hands began to swell, and looking at them, she remarked it, saying, it was time for her to die.
During a most painful operation on the cancer, when it was necessary to repeat the stroke of the lancet, she cried out, "Lord, Lord! let my sufferings atone for my sins! I bear all most willingly, O God! since it is thy will!" The bishop of Auch, her confessor, was once saying all he could to comfort her; and, after praying by her some time, returned thanks to God for all the favours he had been pleased to bestow upon her during life: "Ah!" she exclaimed, with dying accents, "it is true he made me great, but of what importance is that to a future state! How insignificant does all I heretofore considered glorious appear to me now! How sensibly I feel my own unworthiness!"
Anne of Austria was sincerely regretted by her son, who had paid her the most unremitting attention during her illness; and to whom she had been a most affectionate and careful parent. Cardinal de Retz has given the following whimsical portrait of this princess; "The queen had, more than any body I have ever seen, the sort of under-
