I thought M. Law was an Englishman but it seems he is a Scotchman;
and in point of fact horribly ugly; but he appears to be a worthy man
and he has much talent; he came near dying yesterday of an attack of
colic. Parliament is not quiet yet; it still makes remonstrances.
Everything is so horribly ruined in the kingdom that my son will never
in all his life have rest or satisfaction again.
The wife of the humpback [Duchesse du Maine] desired to have an
interview and explanation with my son. She spoke with emphasis, as she
does when she acts comedy, and told him he ought not to believe that
the answer to Fitzmaurice's book emanated from her; that a princess
of the blood like herself did not condescend to write libels; that
Cardinal de Polignac [her lover] had been employed in far too great
affairs to meddle in such trifles; and that M. de Malézieux was too
great a philosopher to know about anything but science; and as for
herself, she was solely occupied in bringing up her children and
making them worthy of the rank of princes of the blood--of which they
were unjustly deprived. My son confined himself to saying: "I have
reason to believe that those libels were written in your house and for
you; persons in your service have sworn that they saw them written;
I cannot be made to either believe or disbelieve things." As to her
last words he said nothing in reply, and went away. The lady boasted
everywhere of the energy and firmness with which she spoke to him.