"--"It is very noble in you, Marshal, not to suffer an
unfortunate man to be overwhelmed; the public are furious against him,
and what has he done to deserve it?"--"There is not a more honourable nor
a kinder man in the world. I only fulfil my duty in doing justice to the
truth, and to a man for whom I have the most profound esteem. The King
will explain to you, Madame, how M. de Soubise was forced to give battle
by the Prince of Sage-Hildbourgshausen, whose troops fled first, and
carried along the French troops." Madame would have embraced the old
Marshal if she had dared, she was so delighted with him.

M. de Soubise, having gained a battle, was made Marshal of France: Madame
was enchanted with her friend's success. But, either it was unimportant,
or the public were offended at his promotion; nobody talked of it but
Madame's friends. This unpopularity was concealed from her, and she said
to Colin, her steward, at her toilet, "Are you not delighted at the
victory M. de Soubise has gained? What does the public say of it? He
has taken his revenge well." Colin was embarrassed, and knew not what to
answer. As she pressed him further, he replied that he had been ill, and
had seen nobody for a week.

M. de Marigny came to see me one day, very much out of humour. I asked
him the cause. "I have," said he, "just been intreating my sister not to
make M. le Normand-de-Mezi Minister of the Marine. I told her that she
was heaping coals of fire upon her own head. A favourite ought not to
multiply the points of attack upon herself." The Doctor entered. "You,"
said the Doctor, "are worth your weight in gold, for the good sense and
capacity you have shewn in your office, and for your moderation, but you
will never be appreciated as you deserve; your advice is excellent; there
will never be a ship taken but Madame will be held responsible for it to
the public, and you are very wise not to think of being in the Ministry
yourself."

One day, when I was at Paris, I went to dine with the Doctor, who
happened to be there at the same time; there were, contrary to his usual
custom, a good many people, and, among others, a handsome young Master of
the Requests, who took a title from some place, the name of which I have
forgotten, but who was a son of M. Turgot, the 'prevot des marchands'.
They talked a great deal about administration, which was not very amusing
to me; they then fell upon the subject of the love Frenchmen bear to