had been fixed upon as the place of his a exile, and there gave himself up to the debaucheries in which he usually lived.  From this time until the Regency we shall see nothing more of him.  I shall only add, therefore, that he never went sober to bed during thirty years, but was always carried thither dead drunk:  was a liar, swindler, and thief; a rogue to the marrow of his bones, rotted with vile diseases; the most contemptible and yet most dangerous fellow in the world.

One day-I am speaking of a time many years previous to the date of the occurrences just related-one day there was a great hunting party at Saint Germain.  The chase was pursued so long, that the King gave up, and returned to Saint Germain.  A number of courtiers, among whom was M. de Lauzun, who related this story to me, continued their sport; and just as darkness was coming on, discovered that they had lost their way.  After a time, they espied a light, by which they guided their steps, and at length reached the door of a kind of castle.  They knocked, they called aloud, they named themselves, and asked for hospitality.  It was then between ten and eleven at night, and towards the end of autumn.  The door was opened to them.  The master of the house came forth.  He made them take their boots off, and warm themselves; he put their horses into his stables; and at the same time had a supper prepared for his guests, who stood much in need of it.  They did not wait long for the meal; yet when served it proved excellent; the wines served with it, too, were of several kinds, and excellent likewise:  as for the master of the house, he was so polite and respectful, yet without being ceremonious or eager,

VOLUME 5.

CHAPTER XXXIII

Two very different persons died towards the latter part of this year.  The first was Lamoignon, Chief President; the second, Ninon, known by the name of Mademoiselle de l’Enclos.  Of Lamoignon I will relate a single anecdote, curious and instructive, which will show the corruption of which he was capable.

One day—­I am speaking of a time many years previous to the date of the occurrences just related—­one day there was a great hunting party at Saint Germain.  The chase was pursued so long, that the King gave up, and returned to Saint Germain.  A number of courtiers, among whom was M. de Lauzun, who related this story to me, continued their sport; and just as darkness was coming on, discovered that they had lost their way.  After a time, they espied a light, by which they guided their steps, and at length reached the door of a kind of castle.  They knocked, they called aloud, they named themselves, and asked for hospitality.  It was then between ten and eleven at night, and towards the end of autumn.  The door was opened to them.  The master of the house came forth.  He made them take their boots off,