Louis xvi. and Marie Antoinette had now reached the pinnacle of human greatness, as sovereigns of one of the noblest empires in the world.  Yet the first feelings which their elevation had excited in both, and especially in the queen, were rather those of dismay and perplexity than of exultation.  In the preceding autumn, Mercy[1] had remarked to the empress, with surprise and vexation, that, though the dauphiness exhibited singular readiness and acuteness in comprehending political questions, she was very unwilling, and, as it seemed to him, afraid of dealing with them, and that she shrunk from the thought that the day would come when she must possess power and authority.  And the continuance of this feeling is visible in her first letter to her mother, some passages of which show a sobriety of mind under such a change of circumstances, which, almost as much as the benevolence which the letter also displays, augured well for the happiness of the people over whom she was to reign, so far at least as that happiness depended on the virtues of the sovereign.

“Choisy, May 14th.

“My Dearest Mother,—­Mercy will have informed you of the circumstances of our misfortune.  Happily his cruel disease left the king in possession of his senses till the last moment, and his end was very edifying.  The new king seems to have the affection of his people.  Two days before the death of his grandfather, he sent two hundred thousand[2] francs to the poor, which has produced a great effect.  Since he has been here, he has been working unceasingly, answering with his own hand the letters of the ministers, whom as yet he can not see, and many others likewise.  One thing is certain, and that is that he has a taste for economy, and the greatest desire possible to make his people happy.  In every thing he has as great a desire to be rightly instructed as he has need to be.  I trust that God will bless his good intentions.

“The public expected great changes in a moment.  The king has limited himself to sending away the creature[3] to a convent, and to driving from the court every thing which is connected with that scandal.  The king even owed this example to the people of Versailles, who, at the very moment of his grandfather’s death, insulted Madame do Mazarin,[4] one of the humblest servants of the favorite.  I am earnestly entreated to exhort the king to mercy toward a number of corrupt souls who had done much mischief for many years; and I am strongly inclined to comply with the request.

* * * * *

“A messenger has just arrived to forbid my going to see my Aunt Adelaide, who has a great deal of fever.  They are afraid of the small-pox for her.  I am horrified, and can not bring myself to think of the consequences.  It is a terrible thing for her to pay so immediately for the sacrifice which she made.

“I am very glad that Marshal Lacy was pleased with me.  I confess, my dear mamma, that I was greatly affected when he took leave of me, at thinking how rarely it happens to me to see any of my countrymen, and especially of those who have the happiness to approach you.  A little time back I saw Madame de Marmier, which was a great pleasure to me, since I know how highly you value her.