He can be so, but seldom is yet he has another very different and very amusing talent, the art of parody, and is unique in his kind.  He composes tales to the tunes of long dances -. for instance, he has adapted the Regent’s Daphnis and Chloe to one, and made it ten times more indecent; but is so old, and sings it so well, that it is permitted in all companies.  He has succeeded still better in les caract`eres de la danse, to which he has adapted words that express all the characters of love.  With all this he has not the least idea of cheerfulness in conversation; seldom speaks but on grave subjects, and not often on them; is a humourist, very supercilious, and wrapt up in admiration of his own country, as the only judge of his merit.  His air and look are cold and forbidding; but ask him to sing, or praise his works, his eyes and smiles open, and brighten up.  In short, I can show him to you:  the self-applauding poet in Hogarth’s Rake’s Progress, the second print, is so like his very features and very wig, that you would know him by it, if you came hither—­for he certainly will not go to you.

Madame de Mirepoix’s understanding is excellent of the useful kind, and can be so when she pleases of the agreeable kind.  She has read, but seldom shows it, and has perfect taste.  Her manner is cold, but very civil; and she conceals even the blood of Lorrain, without ever forgetting it.  Nobody in France knows the world better, and nobody is personally so well with the King.  She is false, artful, and insinuating beyond measure when it is her interest,(931) but indolent and a coward.  She never had any passion but gaming, and always loses.  For ever paying court, the sole produce of a life of art is to get money from the King to carry on a course of paying debts or contracting new ones, which she discharges as fast as she is able.  She advertised devotion, to get made dame du palais to the Queen; and the very next day this Princess of Lorrain was seen riding backwards with Madame Pompadour in the latter’s coach.  When the King was stabbed, and heartily frightened, the mistress took a panic too, and consulted D’Argenson,(932) whether she had not best make off in time.  He hated her, and said, By all means.  Madame de Mirepoix advised her to stay.  The King recovered his spirits, D’Argenson was banished, and La Mar`echale inherited part of the mistress’s credit.  I must interrupt my history of illustrious women with an anecdote of Monsieur de Maurepas, with whom I am much acquainted, and who has one of the few heads which approach to good ones, and who luckily for us was disgraced, and the marine dropped, because it was his favourite object and province.  He employed Pondeveyle to make a song on the Pompadour:(933) it was clever and bitter, and did not spare Majesty.  This was Maurepas absurd enough to sing at supper at Versailles.(934) Banishment ensued; and lest he should ever be restored, the mistress persuaded the King that he had poisoned her predecessor Madame de Chateauroux.  Maurepas is very agreeable, and exceedingly cheerful; yet I have seen a transient silent cloud when politics are talked of.