“Plus dans la canicule on était bien fourré, Plus l’oreille était dure et l’œil mal éclairé, Plus on déraisonnait dans sa triste famille, Plus on épiloguait sur la moindre vétille, Plus on avait de goutte et d’autre béatille, Plus on avait perdu de dents de leur bon gré, Plus on marchait courbé sur sa grosse béquille, Plus on était, enfin, digne d’être enterré, Et plus dans ses remparts on était honoré. “O Sparte! ô Sparte! hélas! qu’êtes-vous devenue? Vous saviez tout le prix d’une tête chenue.”[60] After reading these verses, the Queen wrote to President Hénault: “Say to Fontenelle that a head like his ought to find Sparta everywhere.” The old man, very much flattered, responded by the following quatrain:-- “Les ans accumulés me poussent trop à bout. Je ne puis plus, hélas! trouver Sparte partout, Mais vous, le modèle des reines, Vous devez bien trouver partout Athènes.”[61] The kindly, affectionate character of Marie Leczinska is fully displayed in the simple and friendly letters she addressed to the Duchess of Luynes, her lady of honor. We cite several of them taken at hazard:-- “December 22, 1750.--Nothing could give me a greater pleasure than your letter, if I did not expect one still more sensible in four weeks, that of seeing you. Nevertheless, it is true, that to give me news of yourself sometimes, if you can do so without injuring yourself, would help to alleviate a time which already seems very long to me. All I ask of you is not to be thankful for my friendship; it is wholly due to you. Your letter affected me to tears. Yes, God will preserve you as long as I live; I ask it of Him with all my heart. When I write to M. de Luynes, I say: ‘I embrace Madame de Luynes,’ but since it is to you for him, I think it more honest to beg you to take the trouble for me. And Monseigneur, what would he like? I think it would be better to enclose all in the benediction I ask for him.” The Duke de Luynes had once sent the Queen a casket as a New-Year’s gift. Marie Leczinska thanked him in the following note, dated January 1, 1751: “It is useless to say the casket is charming, new in style, in a word, nothing so pretty in the world; one knows all that. But what one doesn’t know is that I am like a child with a plaything that pleases it. It pleases me with the same candor, except that the gratitude proceeds from a person who knows the world a little, and even at her own expense, and whom God has granted the grace of having amiable and estimable friends wholly corrupt though she is.”