ned on the road." The lady died.

"See what the Court is; all is corruption there, from the highest to the
lowest," said I to Madame, one day, when she was speaking to me of some
facts, that had come to my knowledge. "I could tell you many others,"
replied Madame; "but the little chamber, where you often remain, must
furnish you with a sufficient number." This was a little nook, from,
whence I could hear a great part of what passed in Madame's apartment.
The Lieutenant of Police sometimes came secretly to this apartment, and
waited there. Three or four persons, of high consideration, also found
their way in, in a mysterious, manner, and several devotees, who were, in
their hearts, enemies of Madame de Pompadour. But these men had not
petty objects in view: one: required the government of a province;
another, a seat in the Council; a third, a Captaincy of the, Guards; and
this man would have obtained it if the Marechale de Mirepoix had not
requested it for her brother, the Prince de Beauvan. The Chevalier du
Muy was not among these apostates; not even the promise of being High
Constable would have tempted him to make up to Madame, still less to
betray his master, the Dauphin. This Prince was, to the last degree,
weary of the station he held. Sometimes, when teased to death by
ambitious people, who pretended to be Catos, or wonderfully devout, he
took part against a Minister against whom he was prepossessed; then
relapsed into his accustomed state of inactivity and ennui.

The King used to say, "My son is lazy; his temper is Polonese--hasty and
changeable; he has no tastes; he cares nothing for hunting, for women, or
for good living; perhaps he imagines that if he were in my place he would
be happy; at first, he would make great changes, create everything anew,
as it were. In a short time he would be as tired of the rank of King as
he now is of his own; he is only fit to live 'en philosophe', with clever
people about him." The King added, "He loves what is right; he is truly
virtuous, and does not want under standing."

M. de St. Germain said, one day, to the King, "To think well of mankind,
one must be neither a Confessor, nor a Minister, nor a Lieutenant of
Police."--"Nor a King," said His Majesty. "Ah! Sire," replied he, "you
remember the fog we had a few days ago, when we could not see four steps
before us. Kings are commonly surrounded by still thicker fogs,
collected around them by men of intriguing cha