two to whom their countrymen could look back with affection or respect--
Louis XII., to whom his subjects had given the title of The Good, and
Henry, to whom more than one memorial still preserved the surname of The
Great. And the courtly picture-dealer, eager to make his market of the
gratitude with which his fellow-citizens greeted the reforms with which
the reigning sovereign had already inaugurated his reign, contrived to
extract a compliment to him even out of the severe prose of the
multiplication-table; publishing a joint portrait of the three kings,
Louis XII., Henry IV., and Louis XVI., with an inscription beneath to
testify that 12 and 4 made 16.

In the spring of 1775, Marie Antoinette received a great pleasure in a
visit from her younger brother, Maximilian. He was the only member of her
family whom she had seen in the five years that had elapsed since she left
Vienna. But, eagerly as she had looked forward to his visit, it did not
bring her unmixed satisfaction, being marred by the ill-breeding of the
princes of the blood, and still more by the approval of their conduct
displayed by the citizens of Paris, which seemed to afford a convincing
evidence of the small effect which even the queen's virtues and graces had
produced in softening the old national feeling of enmity to the house of
Austria. The archduke, who was still but a youth, did not assert his royal
rank while on his travels, but preserved such an _incognito_ as princes on
such occasions are wont to assume, and took the title of Count de Burgau.
The king's brothers, however, like the king himself, paid no regard to his
disguise, but visited him at the first instant of his arrival; but the
princes of the blood stood on their dignity, refused to acknowledge a rank
which was not publicly avowed, or to recollect that the visitor was a
foreigner and brother to their queen, and insisted on receiving the
attention of the first visit from him. The excitement which the question
caused in the palace, and the queen's indignation at the slight thus