apartment was ready within a week. Every method was employed to keep up and increase the coldness, which the dauphin shewed so long toward his young wife. She was deeply affected by it, but never permitted herself to articulate the slightest complaint. She bore in silence the neglect and contempt of her husband for charms, which every body else was commending; and a few occasional tears were the only traces by which her attendants were able to discover her secret sorrows."

The portraits of Louis XVI, and of his two brothers, the present king and the Count d'Artois, are given by Madame Campan as follows.

'Louis XVI had very good features, but rather a melancholy expression of countenance. His gait was heavy, and without dignity; his person wholly neglected, and his hair always in disorder. His voice, though not harsh, was far from being agreeable. When he was animated in speaking, it often passed at once from an ordinary tone to a very sharp one. His preceptor, the Abbé de Radonvilliers, a learned and amiable man, had given him, as well as Monsieur, a taste for study, and the king never lost it. He knew the English language perfectly well. I have heard him several times translate the most difficult passages in the poem of Milton. He was well acquainted with geography, and amused himself with drawing and coloring maps. He was also well versed in history, and possessed a correct taste in poetry, especially the drama. One day at Choisy, several ladies were railing at the actors for performing one of Molière's plays. The king inquired why they disapproved of this choice; and one of them replied, that Molière's plays were in very bad taste; [de très mauvais goût;] "mauvais ton, occasionally, if you please," said the king, "but as to mauvais goût, I think you will find but little of that in Molière."

"The king had a great love for the mechanical arts. He was so fond of working in iron, that he admitted into his rooms a blacksmith's boy to assist him in hammering out locks and keys. This employment naturally soiled his hands; and the queen, in my presence, has often reproved him pretty severely for making his appearance in this condition. She would have been glad to have him amuse himself in a different way.

The King observed very exactly all the rules of the church, particularly fasting and abstaining from meat during Lent; but did not require the same rigor of others. He was really pious, but the spirit of the age had disposed his mind to toleration. Turgot, Malesherbes, and Necker, thought that a prince of so modest and amiable a character would willingly sacrifice the royal prerogatives to

the real good of his people. In fact, his feelings led him to favor improvement; but his principles, his prejudices, his fears, and the clamors of the privileged classes, intimidated him, and led him to abandon the plans which, from love of the people, he had at first adopted.

"Monsieur (the present king) had more dignity in his countenance than his brother; but his person was too large, and his gait awkward. He loved shew and magnificence. He also cultivated letters with success, and occasionally inserted his verses in the Mercury, and other journals, under feigned names. His prodigious memory furnished him constantly with the happiest quotations. He knew by heart all the fine passages in the Latin classics, as well as the Latin prayers; and all the French poets, from Racine to the Vaudeville of Rose and Colas.

'The Count d'Artois had an agreeable countenance and good person, with a graceful and lively manner. He was, however, impetuous, fond of pleasure, and foppish in his dress. The Parisians recognized, with pleasure, in this prince, the gaiety and ease, that form the peculiar charm of the French character, and felt a real affection for him.

'The queen gradually acquired an influence over the king's mind, and by living in society with her, and his two brothers, one so remarkable for fine taste and the other for vivacity, his character lost in some degree the rudeness, which a better education would have entirely prevented. This defect, however, still existed to a certain extent, and in spite of his extreme simplicity, the king sometimes gave very unpleasant answers to those who addressed him. The courtiers took care to avoid these remarks as far as possible, and were all submission in their sovereign's presence; but they took their revenge in private by inventing a peculiar name to these coarse replies, which they called the coups de boutoir du Roi.'

The singular taste of Louis XVI for working in iron is further described, in the following extract from Soulavié's Memoirs, copied in the notes of the work before us.

'Above the king's private library there was an apartment containing a furnace, two anvils, and a number of iron tools, with a great variety of locks of different kinds made by the king. It was here, that the infamous Gamin, who afterwards accused the king of attempting to poison him, and was rewarded for the calumny by a pension of twelve thousand francs, had learnt him the trade of a locksmith. Gamin, with all his coarseness, had acquired such an ascendancy over the king, that he treated him as a master workman does his apprentice. Gamin said to me himself, "The king is passionately fond of this occupation, but not wishing that the

queen and court should know that he employs himself in it, he steals away from them secretly, and comes to me to forge and file. We were obliged to employ a thousand stratagems to carry our anvils without its being known." Above the forge was an open terrace where the king used to sit, and observe with a large telescope the persons walking in the gardens, or passing along the road to Paris.'

This

The famous affair of the diamond necklace, which is commonly reckoned among the immediate causes of the revolution, is described by Madame Campan with a degree of accuracy and dramatic effect corresponding with its political importance, and with the interest which, in the opinion of ladies, and we may add crowned heads, is apt to attach to everything connected with the subject of diamonds. affair is often mentioned, but may not perhaps be familiarly known in its details to all our readers. As the account given by Madame Campan is rather too long for an extract, we shall add here a concise relation of the principal facts, abridged from the narrative before us, and from the Memoirs of the Abbé Georgel. The curious reader will find in the latter work, a very complete history of this singular transaction, which, independently of its connexion with the political events of the time, is remarkable as being probably the most extraordinary piece of swindling that was ever attempted.

It seems that the queen's jeweller, Boehmer, had employed himself for several years in making up a diamond necklace of great value and beauty, without orders from the queen, but with the purpose of selling it to her, when it should be completed. The necklace was valued at eighteen hundred thousand francs; and the jeweller having finished it, repeatedly proposed to the queen to make the purchase. This she steadily refused to do, and Boehmer after a while appeared to acquiesce in this decision, and nothing more was said about the matter. But after a few months had elapsed, the jeweller began to talk in rather a mysterious way about money due to him from the queen for diamonds. He addressed one or two letters to her upon the subject, and finally obtained an audience; but did not succeed in explaining precisely the nature of his claim. At last he had recourse to Madame Campan, as the queen's confidential attendant, and demanded why her majesty did not pay him

for his necklace agreeably to her promise. This brought on an explanation, from which it appeared, that Boehmer conceived himself to have sold his famous diamonds to the queen; and on being called upon to name the person who had been employed to make the purchase, he mentioned the Cardinal de Rohan, one of the first noblemen in France, who held the titular office of high chaplain, and had formerly resided as ambassador at the court of Vienna. He also declared, that he had in his possession several notes, addressed by the queen to the cardinal, in which she gave him her orders upon the subject. This story appeared the more extraordinary, as the Cardinal was personally in the most complete disgrace with the queen. His connexions were decidedly attached to the anti-Austrian party, and he had been placed at Vienna as ambassador by this party, when they obtained the ascendency at court, in the manner above described, about the time of the queen's arrival in France. His political connexions naturally made him obnoxious in Austria; and he had also, in several ways, given particular offence to the empress, who, from the time of his appointment, constantly demanded his recall of the French ministry, and finally succeeded in obtaining it about two years after. On his return to France the queen refused to see him, and had not even spoken to him when the affair of the necklace occurred. Such was the person represented as the queen's confidential agent in the purchase of the necklace.

Madame Campan immediatly repeated to the queen her conversation with Boehmer; and a few days after, as the Cardinal, who resided in the palace at Versailles in his capacity of high chaplain, was going in full dress to assist at some religious service, he was called into the king's cabinet, where the king and queen were present, and questioned by the former in the following manner. The dialogue is given by Madame Campan.

"King. "You bought diamonds of Bochmer?" Cardinal. "Yes Sire." King. "What have you done with them?" Cardinal. "I thought that they had been delivered to the queen." King. "Who employed you to make this purchase?" Cardinal. “The Countess de Lamotte Valois, who brought me a written order from the queen. I thought that I was rendering an agreeable service to her majesty by performing this commission."

The

queen then interposed, and said to the Cardinal. "How, sir, could you possibly imagine, that I should choose you, to whom I have not spoken for eight years, to make such a purchase, and that I should send you the commission through such a channel?" The cardinal replied, "I see that I have been cruelly duped, and I will pay for the necklace. I was blinded by an extreme desire to gain your majesty's favor, and did not see the deception. I regret it sincerely." He then took from his pocket a letter, purporting to be from the queen to Madame de Lamotte, containing the order in question, and signed, Marie Antoinette de France. The king took it, and after looking at it, said to the Cardinal, "This is neither the queen's hand writing nor her signature. How could a prince of the house of Rohan, and a high chaplain of the kingdom, be ignorant that the queen signs with her christian name only? But, sir," continued the king, shewing him a copy of a letter written by himself to Boehmer, "did you write this letter?" The Cardinal after looking it over said, "I do not recollect it." King. "Should you recollect it, if I were to shew you the original signed by yourself?" Cardinal. "If the letter is signed by me, it is genuine." King. "Let us know then, I beg of, you, the meaning of this enigma. I do not wish to find you guilty, but rather that you may be able to justify yourself. What are we to understand by this transaction with Boehmer, these assurances, these letters?" The Cardinal, who now turned pale, and was obliged to lean upon a table, replied, "Sire, I am too much confused now to give your majesty a satisfactory answer." The king then proposed to him to retire into the next chamber, and to draw up in writing an account of the transaction. The Gardinal retired, and after a short absence, brought back a written statement, which was not much more intelligible than his verbal answers.'

The king then ordered him to retire; and on quitting the cabinet he was arrested and conveyed at once to the Bastile.

As the Cardinal thus admitted that he had bought the necklace in the queen's name, and could not give any satisfactory account of it, the natural conclusion was, that he had appropriated it to his own use. The king and queen doubtless gave into this suspicion the more readily, from their own personal disinclination to the prelate, and from their knowledge of his general character. Though his fortune was immense, his habits were so thriftless, and disorderly, and his life so licentious, that he was always in want of money. Appearances were certainly thus far very much against him; nor if his conduct was perfectly fair throughout, is it easy to see why, at the moment of his arrest, he should have sent an