n your
proceedings have occasioned in the capital. We leave to the ministers of
our religion, and the magistrates who are appointed to guard our
laws, to decide upon the legality of the bonds between yourself and
mademoiselle Camp, but by one tribunal you are distinctly pronounced
guilty towards her, and that is the tribunal of honour, before that
tribunal which exists in the heart of every good man. You have been
universally cited and condemned. There are some errors which all the
impetuosity of youth is unable to excuse, and yours are unhappily
of that sort. The different persons composing this establishment,
therefore, concur not only in praying of us to signify their sentiments,
but likewise to apprize you, that you are unanimously forbidden to
appear within these walls again."

The chancellor brought to the king a copy of this severe letter, to
which I listened with much emotion, nor did the king seem more calm than
myself.

"This is, indeed," said he at length, "a very sad affair; we shall have
all the quarrels of Protestantism renewed, as if I had not had already
enough of those of the Jansenists and Jesuits. As far as I can judge,
M. de Bombelles is entitled to the relief he seeks, and every marriage
contracted with a Protestant is null and void by the laws of France."

"Oh, sire," cried I, "would I had married a Protestant."

The king smiled for a moment at my jest, then resumed:

"I blame the military school."

"Is it your majesty's pleasure," inquired the chancellor, "that I should
signify your displeasure to them?"

"No, sir," replied Louis, "it does not come within your line of duty,
and devolves rather upon the minister of war; and very possibly he would
object to executing such a commission; for how could I step forward as
the protector of one who would shake off the moral obligation of an oath
directly it suits his inclinations to doubt its legality? This affair
gives me great uneasiness, and involves the most serious consequences.
You will see that I shall be overwhelmed with petitions and pamphlets,
demanding of me the revocation of the edict of Nantes."

"And what, sire," asked the chancellor gravely, "could you do, that
would better consolidate the glory of your reign?"

"Chancellor," exclaimed Louis XV, stepping back with unfeigned
astonishment, "have you lost your senses? What would the clergy say
or do? The very thought makes me shudder. Do you then believe, M. de
Maupeou, that the race