had often begged her to break off a droll story. He smiled, and that
was all. In general, he had the most gloomy ideas concerning almost all
events. When there was a new Minister, he used to say, "He displays his
wares like all the rest, and promises the finest things in the world, not
one of which will be fulfilled. He does not know this country--he will
see." When new projects for reinforcing the navy were laid before him,
he said, "This is the twentieth time I have heard this talked of--France
never will have a navy, I think." This I heard from M. de Marigny.

I never saw Madame de Pompadour so rejoiced as at the taking of Mahon.
The King was very glad, too, but he had no belief in the merit of his
courtiers--he looked upon their success as the effect of chance. Marechal
Saxe was, as I have been told, the only man who inspired him with great
esteem. But he had scarcely ever seen him in his closet, or playing the
courtier.

M. d'Argenson picked a quarrel with M. de Richelieu, after his victory,
about his return to Paris. This was intended to prevent his coming to
enjoy his triumph. He tried to throw the thing upon Madame de Pompadour,
who was enthusiastic about him, and called him by no other name than the
"Minorcan." The Chevalier de Montaign was the favourite of the Dauphin,
and much beloved by him for his great devotion. He fell ill, and
underwent an operation called 'l'empieme', which is performed by making
an incision between the ribs, in order to let out the pus; it had, to all
appearance, a favourable result, but the patient grew worse, and could
not breathe. His medical attendants could not conceive what occasioned
this accident and retarded his cure. He died almost in the arms of the
Dauphin, who went every day to see him. The singularity of his disease
determined the surgeons to open the body, and they found, in his chest,
part of the leaden syringe with which decoctions had, as was usual, been
injected into the part in a state of suppuration. The surgeon, who
committed this act of negligence, took care not to boast of his feat, and
his patient was the victim. This incident was much talked of by the
King, who related it, I believe, not less than thirty times, according to
his custom; but what occasioned still more conversation about the
Chevalier de Montaign, was a box, found by his bed's side, containing
haircloths, and shirts, and whips, stained with blood. This circumstance
was spoken of