M. de Marigny came to see me one day, very much out of humour.  I asked him the cause.  “I have,” said he, “just been intreating my sister not to make M. le Normand-de-Mezi Minister of the Marine.  I told her that she was heaping coals of fire upon her own head.  A favourite ought not to multiply the points of attack upon herself.”  The Doctor entered.  “You,” said the Doctor, “are worth your weight in gold, for the good sense and capacity you have shewn in your office, and for your moderation, but you will never be appreciated as you deserve; your advice is excellent; there will never be a ship taken but Madame will be held responsible for it to the public, and you are very wise not to think of being in the Ministry yourself.”

One day, when I was at Paris, I went to dine with the Doctor, who happened to be there at the same time; there were, contrary to his usual custom, a good many people, and, among others, a handsome young Master of the Requests, who took a title from some place, the name of which I have forgotten, but who was a son of M. Turgot, the ‘prevot des marchands’.  They talked a great deal about administration, which was not very amusing to me; they then fell upon the subject of the love Frenchmen bear to their Kings.  M. Turgot here joined in the conversation, and said, “This is not a blind attachment; it is a deeply rooted sentiment, arising from an indistinct recollection of great benefits.  The French nation—­I may go farther—­Europe, and all mankind, owe to a King of France” (I have forgotten his name)—­[Phillip the Long]—­“whatever liberty they enjoy.  He established communes, and conferred on an immense number of men a civil existence.  I am aware that it may be said, with justice, that he served his own interests by granting these franchises; that the cities paid him taxes, and that his design was to use them as instruments of weakening the power of great nobles; but what does that prove, but that this measure was at once useful, politic, and humane?” From Kings in general the conversation turned upon Louis XV., and M. Turgot remarked that his reign would be always celebrated for the advancement of the sciences, the progress of knowledge, and of philosophy.  He added that Louis XV. was deficient in the quality which Louis XIV. possessed to excess; that is to say, in a good opinion of himself; that he was well-informed; that nobody was more perfectly master of the topography of France; that his opinion in the Council was always the most judicious; and that it was much to be lamented that he had not more confidence in himself, or that he did not rely upon some Minister who enjoyed the confidence of the nation.  Everybody agreed with him.  I begged M. Quesnay to write down what young Turgot had said, and showed it to Madame.  She praised this Master of the Requests greatly, and spoke of him to the King.  “It is a good breed,” said he.