It would be a difficult matter to study the political system of Madame de Pompadour, if, indeed, she can be said to have acted on a system.  It cannot be denied that she possessed ideas, but more frequently her mind was a perfect chaos of caprices.  It is well known, however, that the Duc de Choiseul, who united in his own person the portfolios of three departments of the ministry, and who disposed of all power, followed to the letter the policy of Madame de Pompadour; namely, in reversing the system of Louis XIV., in allying himself to Austria, and in forming a league, or rather a family pact, between the Bourbons of France, Italy, and Spain.  The policy of Madame de Pompadour it was which annexed Corsica to France, and, consequently, Bonaparte, who was born at the decease of the marchioness, owed to her his title of French citizen.

Women look not to the future; their reign is from day to day; women of genius, who have at various epochs sought to govern the world, have never contemplated the clouds which might be gathering in the distance; they have been able to see clearly enough within a narrow circle traced around them, but have never succeeded in piercing the shadows of futurity. “Apres moi le deluge,” was Madame de Pompadour’s motto.

The eighteenth century was a century of striking contrasts.  The prime minister after Cardinal de Fleury was Madame de Pompadour.  With the cardinal a blind religion protected the throne against the parliament; with the rise of the marchioness’s power we perceive the first dawnings of philosophy, tormenting in turns both the clergy and the parliament.  Under Madame de Pompadour’s direction the king, had he been only as bold and determined as his mistress, would have become a greater king than ever.  The cardinal was miserly and avaricious, the marchioness liberal to prodigality; she always said, and justly too, that money ought to flow freely from the throne like a generous stream, fertilizing and humanizing the entire State.  The cardinal had been hostile to Austria, and favorable to Prussia; the marchioness made war with Frederick to humor Marie-Therese.  The battle of Rosbach certainly belied her policy, but, to use her own words, “Had she the privilege of making heroes?”

And after all, is the historian justified in accusing this woman of all the dishonors and defeats of the reign of Louis XV.?  She attained to power just as the old legitimate royalty—­the royalty, as the French would call it, par la grace de Dieu—­was fast giving way before the royalty of opinion.  There was nothing left to be done at Versailles, simply because in Paris the power was already in the hands of Voltaire, Montesquieu, Rousseau, and Diderot.  And so well did Madame de Pompadour comprehend this future royalty, that far from seeking to arrest its progress, she, on the contrary, sought to meet it half way.  For we do not find her openly protecting and encouraging the philosophers of the day; those