. The King was there; and the Count, who was a
welcome visitor, had been admitted. There were also present, M.
de Gontaut, Madame de Brancas, and the Abbe de Bernis. I remember
that the very same day, after the Count was gone out, the King
talked in a style which gave Madame great pain. Speaking of the
King of Prussia, he said, "That is a madman, who will risk all to
gain all, and may, perhaps, win the game, though he has neither
religion, morals, nor principles. He wants to make a noise in
the world, and he will succeed. Julian, the Apostate, did the
same." "I never saw the King so animated before," observed Madame,
when he was gone out; "and really the comparison with Julian,
the Apostate, is not amiss, considering the irreligion of the
King of Prussia. If he gets out of his perplexities, surrounded
as he is by his enemies, he will be one of the greatest men in
history."

M. de Bernis remarked, "Madame is correct in her judgment, for
she has no reason to pronounce his praises; nor have I, though
I agree with what she says." Madame de Pompadour never enjoyed
so much influence as at the time when M. de Choiseul became one
of the Ministry. From the time of the Abbe de Bernis she had
afforded him her constant support, and he had been employed in
foreign affairs, of which he was said to know but little. Madame
made the Treaty of Vienna, though the first idea of I it was
certainly furnished her by the Abbe. I have been informed by
several persons that the King often talked to Madame upon this
subject; for my own part, I never heard any conversation relative
to it, except the high praises bestowed by her on the Empress
and the Prince de Kaunitz, whom she had known a good deal of.
She said that he had a clear head, the head of a statesman. One
day, when she was talking in this strain, some one tried to cast
ridicule upon the Prince on account of the style in which he
wore his hair, and the four _valets de chambre_, who made the
hair-powder fly in all directions, while Kaunitz ran about that
he might only catch the superfine part of it. "Aye," said Madame,
"just as Alcibiades cut off his dog's tail in order to give the
Athenians something to talk about, and to turn their attention
from those things he wished to conceal."

Never was the public mind so inflamed against Madame de Pompadour
as when news arrived of the battle of Rosbach. Every day she received
anonymous letters, full of the grossest abuse; atrocious verses,
th