"There are my sledges, sirs," said he as he pointed out to the gentlemen in attendance the heavy wagons laden with logs.

The queen more gladly took part in the charities than in the smithy.

She distributed alms bountifully; in a moment of gratitude the inhabitants of Rue St.Honore had erected in her honor a snow pyramid bearing these verses: Fair queen, whose goodness is thy chiefest grace, With our good king, here occupy thy place; Though this frail monument be ice or snow, Our warm hearts are not so.
[Illustration: "There are my Sledges, Sirs."-- --458] Bursts of kindness and sympathy, sincere as they may be, do not suffice to win the respect and affection of a people.

The reign of Louis XV.
had used up the remnants of traditional veneration, the new right of the public to criticise sovereigns was being exercised malignantly upon the youthful thoughtlessnesses of Marie Antoinette.
In the home circle of the royal family, the queen had not found any intimate; the king's aunts had never taken to her; the crafty ability of the Count of Provence and the giddiness of the Count of Artois seemed in the prudent eye of Maria Theresa to be equally dangerous; Madame Elizabeth, the heroic and pious companion of the evil days, was still a mere child; already the Duke of Chartres, irreligious and debauched, displayed towards the queen, who kept him at a distance, symptoms of a bitter rancor which was destined to bear fruit.

Marie Antoinette, accustomed to a numerous family, affectionately united, sought friends who could "love her for herself," as she used to say: an illusive hope, in one of her rank, for which she was destined to pay dearly.