This was a brilliant but sterile union. No children — hence, no future! France, full of alarm, again asked herself, in the event of the king's death, into whose hands the most Christian kingdom was to fall. Prayers were offered, pilgrimages revived. The king and the queen implored the intercession of the most saintly persons — the venerable Mother de Chantal, Blessed Mary of the Incarnation, the humble Sister Margaret of the Blessed Sacrament, M. Olier, cure of St. Sulpic, and a host of others — that God would be pleased to send an heir to the race of St. Louis. Finally, as individual prayers did not suffice to avert perils so great, King Louis XIII descended from his throne, went to Notre Dame, and there solemnly consecrated to the Blessed Virgin his person and his kingdom. All France joined enthusiastically in this consecration.

Contemporaries have left us long and curious details of that solemn action; painters and engravers have represented it in a thousand ways. But what is most important to note is its astonishing result. The self-same year in which France was consecrated to Mary, 1637, the child was born who was to be called Louis XIV and who was to reign for two-and-seventy years of the most eventful epoch of our history.