Her highly-spiced stories, too, were not confined to her own sex, for she was as ready “to discuss with gentlemen improper subjects as any other.” But her collection of 1200 maxims is a proof of her talent in this direction, a few instances of which we subjoin, which, by-the-bye, are not always very complimentary. Thus, she says, “Change of ministry, change of thieves;” and she warns us that “if animals could speak they would convince men that the latter were as great beasts as themselves.” Speaking of royalty, she writes, “There are princes whom men compare with Alexander the Great, and who are not worthy of being compared with his horse Bucephalus;” and she adds, “There are peasants born with royal souls, and kings with the souls of flunkeys.” “Sciences,” she maintains, “are often the pompous titles of human ignorance; one is not the more knowing for knowing them.” And “the secret of being ridiculous,” she was wont to affirm, “is by priding yourself on talents which you do not possess.” And, to give one further instance of her maxims, she tells us that “princes resemble those tigers and lions whose keepers make them play a thousand tricks and turns. To look at them you would fancy they were in complete subjection, but a blow from the paw, when least expected, shows that you can never tame that sort of animal.” Charles IV. of Spain had all the spirit and wit of his father. On requiring the presence of Losada at his toilet, and when told that Spanish etiquette forbade the presence of any one lower in quality than a Spanish grandee, he exclaimed, “Very well, I now make him one, so let him come in and help me on with my shirt.” When Charles ascended the throne Louis XVI. was about to sign a letter of congratulation to him, but he remarked, “It is hardly worth signing, for this king is no king, but a poor cipher, completely governed and henpecked by his wife.” Charles never forgave the jest, and when news of the execution of Louis reached him, he remarked that “the gentleman who was so ready to find fault with others, did not seem to have managed his own affairs very cleverly.” CHAPTER XVII ROYALTY AND FASHION Some two hundred and fifty years ago, a fashionable colour was a peculiar shade of brown known as the “couleur Isabelle,” and this was its origin: Soon after the siege of Ostend commenced at the beginning of the seventeenth century, Isabella Eugenia, Gouvernante of the Netherlands, is said to have made a vow that she would not change her chemise till the town surrendered. Despite the fact that the siege lasted over three years, the ladies and gentlemen of the Court, in no way dismayed, resolved to keep their mistress in countenance, and hit upon the expedient of wearing garments of the presumed colour finally attained by that which clung to the imperial Archduchess by force of religious obstinacy.