“The Dauphiness, his widow, was deeply afflicted; but the immoderate despair which characterised her grief induced many to suspect that the loss of the crown was an important part of the calamity she lamented.  She long refused to eat enough to support life; she encouraged her tears to flow by placing portraits of the Dauphin in every retired part of her apartments.  She had him represented pale, and ready to expire, in a picture placed at the foot of her bed, under draperies of gray cloth, with which the chambers of the Princesses were always hung in court mournings.  Their grand cabinet was hung with black cloth, with an alcove, a canopy, and a throne, on which they received compliments of condolence after the first period of the deep mourning.  The Dauphiness, some months before the end of her career, regretted her conduct in abridging it; but it was too late; the fatal blow had been struck.  It may also be presumed that living with a consumptive, man had contributed to her complaint.  This Princess had no opportunity of displaying her qualities; living in a Court in which she was eclipsed by the King and Queen, the only characteristics that could be remarked in her were her extreme attachment to her husband, and her great piety.

“The Dauphin was little known, and his character has been much mistaken.  He himself, as he confessed to his intimate friends, sought to disguise it.  He one day asked one of his most familiar servants, ’What do they say in Paris of that great fool of a Dauphin?’ The person interrogated seeming confused, the Dauphin urged him to express himself sincerely, saying, ’Speak freely; that is positively the idea which I wish people to form of me.’

“As he died of a disease which allows the last moment to be anticipated long beforehand, he wrote much, and transmitted his affections and his prejudices to his son by secret notes.

“Madame de Pompadour’s brother received Letters of Nobility from his Majesty, and was appointed superintendent of the buildings and gardens.  He often presented to her Majesty, through the medium of his sister, the rarest flowers, pineapples, and early vegetables from the gardens of Trianon and Choisy.  One day, when the Marquise came into the Queen’s apartments, carrying a large basket of flowers, which she held in her two beautiful arms, without gloves, as a mark of respect, the Queen loudly declared her admiration of her beauty; and seemed as if she wished to defend the King’s choice, by praising her various charms in detail, in a manner that would have been as suitable to a production of the fine arts as to a living being.  After applauding the complexion, eyes, and fine arms of the favourite, with that haughty condescension which renders approbation more offensive than flattering, the Queen at length requested her to sing, in the attitude in which she stood, being desirous of hearing the voice and musical talent by which the King’s Court had been charmed in the