They will not yet believe that the Persian Ambassador was an impostor;

[This embassy was always equivocal, and even something more.  From all that can be understood of it, it would seem that a Minister of one of the Persian provinces, a sort of Intendant de Languedoc, as we might say, had commissioned this pretended Ambassador to manage for him some commercial affairs with certain merchants, and that for his own amusement the agent chose to represent the Persian Ambassador.  It is said, too, that Pontchartrain, under whose department this affair fell, would not expose the trick, that the King might be amused, and that he might recommend himself to His Majesty’s favour by making him believe that the Sophy had sent him an Ambassador.—­Notes to Dangeau’s Journal.]

it is quite certain that he was a clumsy fellow, although he had some sense.  There was an air of magnificence about the way in which he gave audience.  He prevailed upon a married woman, who was pregnant by him, to abjure Christianity.  It is true she was not a very respectable person, being the illegitimate daughter of my son’s chief almoner, the Abbe de Grancey, who always kept a little seraglio.  In order to carry her away with him, the Ambassador had her fastened up in a box filled with holes, and then begged that no person might be allowed to touch it, being, as he said, filled with the sacred books written by Mahomet himself, which would be polluted by the contact of Christians.  Upon this pretence the permission was given, and by these means the woman was carried off.  I cannot believe the story which is told of this Ambassador having had 10,000 louis d’or given him.

I had the misfortune to displease the Margrave John Frederic of Anspach.  He brought me a letter from my brother and his wife, both of whom begged I would assist him with my advice.  I therefore thought that by counselling him as I should have counselled my own brother I should be rendering him the best service.  When he arrived he was in deep mourning for his first wife, who had then not been dead three months.  I asked him what he proposed to do in France?  He replied “that he was on his way to England, but that before his departure he should wish to pay his respects to the King.”  I asked him if he had anything to solicit from the King or to arrange with him.  He replied “he had not.”—­“Then,” I said, “I would advise you, if you will permit me, to send the principal person of your suite to the King to make your compliments, to inform him that you are going to England, and that you would not have failed to wait upon him, but that, being in mourning for your wife, your respect for him prevented your appearing before him in so melancholy a garb”—­“But,” he rejoined, “I am very fond of dancing, and I wish to go to the ball; now I cannot go thither until I have first visited the King.”—­“For God’s sake,” I said, “do not go to the ball; it is not the custom here.  You will