ven when, as it may be
thought was the case in this and one or two other instances, she carried
it to excess; for she could hardly fail to be aware that Madame de
Polignac was most unpopular with all classes, and that her unpopularity
was not undeserved. She was covetous for herself, and she had a number of
relations, equally rapacious, who regarded her court favor solely as a
means of enriching the whole family. She had procured a valuable reversion
for her husband; and subsequently the rare favor of an hereditary dukedom;
and it was characteristic of her disposition that she might have attained
the rank of duchess for herself at an earlier date, but that she preferred
to it the chance of other favors of a more practically useful nature; nor
was it till she had received such sums of money that nothing more could
well be asked, that she turned her ambition to titles, and to the
much-coveted dignity of a stool to sit upon in the presence of royalty.[2]

But the more people spoke ill of her, the more the queen protected her;
and if she received the resignation of Madame de Guimenee with pleasure,
much of her joy seemed to be owing to the opportunity which it afforded
her of promoting the new duchess to the vacant place, while Madame de
Polignac had even the address to persuade her that she accepted the post
unwillingly, and, in undertaking it, was making a sacrifice to loyalty and
friendship. But if the queen was duped on that point, she was not deceived
on others. She knew that the duchess had no qualifications for the office;
that she was neither clever nor accomplished. But her absence of any
special qualifications was, in fact, her best recommendation in the eyes
of her patroness; for Marie Antoinette had high ideas of the duty which a
mother owes to her children. She thought herself bound to take upon
herself the real superintendence of their education, and, having this
view, she preferred a governess who would be content that her children's
minds should receive their color from herself. Her own idea of education,
as we shall see it hereafter described by herself,[3] was that example was
more powerful than precept, and that love was a better teacher than fear;
and, acting on this principle, from the moment that her little daughter
was old enough to comprehend her intentions and wishes, she began to make
her her companion; abandoning, or at least relaxing, her pursuit of other
pleasures for that which was now her chief