After staying a few months the Emperor left France, promising his sister to come and see her again.  All the officers of the Queen’s chamber had many opportunities of serving him during his stay, and expected that he would make them presents before his departure.  Their oath of office positively forbade them to receive a gift from any foreign prince; they had therefore agreed to refuse the Emperor’s presents at first, but to ask the time necessary for obtaining permission to accept them.  The Emperor, probably informed of this custom, relieved the good people from their difficulty by setting off without making a single present.

About the latter end of 1777 the Queen, being alone in her closet, sent for my father-in-law and myself, and, giving us her hand to kiss; told us that, looking upon us both as persons deeply interested in her happiness, she wished to receive our congratulations,—­that at length she was the Queen of France, and that she hoped soon to have children; that till now she had concealed her grief, but that she had shed many tears in secret.

Dating from this happy but long-delayed moment, the King’s attachment to the Queen assumed every characteristic of love.  The good Lassone, first physician to the King and Queen, frequently spoke to me of the uneasiness that the King’s indifference, the cause of which he had been so long in overcoming, had given him, and appeared to me at that time to entertain no anxiety except of a very different description.

In the winter of 1778 the King’s permission for the return of Voltaire; after an absence of twenty-seven years, was obtained.  A few strict persons considered this concession on the part of the Court very injudicious.  The Emperor, on leaving France, passed by the Chateau of Ferney without stopping there.  He had advised the Queen not to suffer Voltaire to be presented to her.  A lady belonging to the Court learned the Emperor’s opinion on that point, and reproached him with his want of enthusiasm towards the greatest genius of the age.  He replied that for the good of the people he should always endeavour to profit by the knowledge of the philosophers; but that his own business of sovereign would always prevent his ranking himself amongst that sect.  The clergy also took steps to hinder Voltaire’s appearance at Court.  Paris, however, carried to the highest pitch the honours and enthusiasm shown to the great poet.

It was very unwise to let Paris pronounce with such transport an opinion so opposite to that of the Court.  This was pointed out to the Queen, and she was told that, without conferring on Voltaire the honour of a presentation, she might see him in the State apartments.  She was not averse to following this advice, and appeared embarrassed solely about what she should say to him.  She was recommended to talk about nothing but the “Henriade,” “Merope,” and “Zaira.”  The Queen replied that she would still consult a few other persons in whom