performances of the private apartments, and thus combining the gratification of the ears with that of the eyes.  The Marquise, who still held her enormous basket, was perfectly sensible of something offensive in this request, and tried to excuse herself from singing.  The Queen at last commanded her; she then exerted her fine voice in the solo of Armida—­’At length he is in my power.’  The change in her Majesty’s countenance was so obvious that the ladies present at this scene had the greatest difficulty to keep theirs.

“The Queen was affable and modest; but the more she was thankful in her heart to Heaven for having placed her on the first throne in Europe, the more unwilling she was to be reminded of her elevation.  This sentiment induced her to insist on the observation of all the forms of respect due to royal birth; whereas in other princes the consciousness of that birth often induces them to disdain the ceremonies of etiquette, and to prefer habits of ease and simplicity.  There was a striking contrast in this respect between Maria Leczinska and Marie Antoinette, as has been justly and generally observed.  The latter unfortunate Queen, perhaps, carried her disregard of everything belonging to the strict forms of etiquette too far.  One day, when the Marechale de Mouchy was teasing her with questions relative to the extent to which she would allow the ladies the option of taking off or wearing their cloaks, and of pinning up the lappets of their caps, or letting them hang down, the Queen replied to her, in my presence:  ’Arrange all those matters, madame, just as you please; but do not imagine that a queen, born Archduchess of Austria, can attach that importance to them which might be felt by a Polish princess who had become Queen of France.’

“The virtues and information of the great are always evinced by their conduct; their accomplishments, coming within the scope of flattery, are difficult to be ascertained by any authentic proofs, and those who have lived near them may be excused for some degree of scepticism with regard to their attainments of this kind.  If they draw or paint, there is always an able artist present, who, if he does not absolutely guide the pencil with his own hand, directs it by his advice.  If a princess attempt a piece of embroidery in colours, of that description which ranks amongst the productions of the arts, a skilful embroideress is employed to undo and repair whatever has been spoilt.  If the princess be a musician, there are no ears that will discover when she is out of tune; at least there is no tongue that will tell her so.  This imperfection in the accomplishments of the great is but a slight misfortune.  It is sufficiently meritorious in them to engage in such pursuits, even with indifferent success, because this taste and the protection it extends produce abundance of talent on every side.  Maria Leczinska delighted in the art of painting, and imagined she herself could draw and paint.