or
received company privately; or, in the fine season, he went to Saint-
Cloud, or elsewhere out of town, now supping there, or at the Luxembourg,
or at home. When Madame was at Paris, he spoke to her for a moment
before his mass; and when she was at Saint-Cloud he went to see her
there, and always paid her much attention and respect.

His suppers were always in very strange company. His mistresses,
sometimes an opera girl, often Madame la Duchesse de Berry, and a dozen
men whom he called his rows, formed the party. The requisite cheer was
prepared in places made expressly, on the same floor, all the utensils
were of silver; the company often lent a hand to the cooks. It was at
these parties that the character of every one was passed in review,
ministers and favourites like the rest, with a liberty which was
unbridled license. The gallantries past and present of the Court and of
the town; all old stories, disputes, jokes, absurdities were raked up;
nobody was spared; M. le Duc d'Orleans had his say like the rest, but
very rarely did these discourses make the slightest impression upon him.
The company drank as much as they could, inflamed themselves, said the
filthiest things without stint, uttered impieties with emulation, and
when they had made a good deal of noise and were very drunk, they went to
bed to recommence the same game the next day. From the moment when
supper was ready, business, no matter of, what importance, no matter
whether private or national, was entirely banished from view. Until the
next morning everybody and everything were compelled to wait.

The Regent lost then an infinite amount of time in private, in
amusements, and debauchery. He lost much also in audiences too long, too
extended, too easily granted, and drowned himself in those same details
which during the lifetime of the late King we had both so often
reproached him with. Questions he might have decided in half an hour he
prolonged, sometimes from weakness, sometimes from that miserable desire
to set people at loggerheads, and that poisonous maxim which occasionally
escaped him or his favourite, 'divide et impera'; often from his general
mistrust of everybody and everything; nothings became hydras with which
he himself afterwards was much embarrassed. His familiarity and his
readiness of access extremely pleased people, but were much abused.
Folks sometimes were even wanting in respect to him, which at last was an
inconvenience