through me, to represent the annoyances he experienced, the people with whom he had to do, and, lastly to profit by my dislike to the Duc de Noailles, who, whilst embracing him every day, was dying of jealousy and vexation, and raised in his path, underhand, all the obstacles and embarrassments possible, and would have liked to stifle him. The Bank being in action and flourishing, I believed it my duty to sustain it. I lent myself, therefore, to the instructions Law proposed, and soon we spoke to each other with a confidence I never have had reason to repent.” Notwithstanding the pressure of work upon Law’s shoulders at this period when the enormous amount of details consequent upon the establishment of the Bank required his unremitting attention, he yet found ample time for indulging in those trifling matters which bulk so largely in the estimation of a courtier, and, especially if they entail extravagant expenditure, often cloud his limited horizon to the exclusion of affairs of greater importance. The Duc de Saint-Simon, with a fine eye and a keen judgment for the dainty trifles of this world, had set his mind upon the purchase for the King of a priceless diamond which had come into the market early in 1717. This gem, variously known as the “Pitt” or “Regent” diamond, possessed a rather questionable history. It had been discovered in 1701 in the Parteal mines of the Great Mogul by a slave, who immediately decamped with his precious find to the coast. Here he negotiated a sale with an English captain, who sold it to the Governor of Fort St. George, an office held at that time by Thomas Pitt, grandfather of the first Earl of Chatham. A model of it was made and shown to Law, who had been approached with a view to using his influence with the Regent for its purchase. The price, however, was a stumbling-block, and Law at once requested the assistance of the Duc de Saint-Simon. The Duc, who was always superior to any trifling financial difficulty, thought “that it was not consistent with the greatness of a King of France to be repelled from the purchase of an inestimable jewel, unique of its kind in the world, by the mere consideration of price, and the greater the number of potentates who had not dared to think of it, the greater ought to be his care not to let it escape him.” Saint-Simon’s record of his interview with the Regent is an excellent example of the arguments the extravagant spendthrift makes use of to salve his conscience when any whim is to be satisfied. The Regent “feared blame for making so considerable a purchase, while the most pressing necessities could only be provided for with much trouble, and so many people were of necessity kept in distress. I praised this sentiment, but I said that he ought not to regard the greatest King of Europe as he would a private gentleman, who would be very reprehensible if he threw away 100,000 livres upon a fine diamond, while he owed many debts which he could not pay; that he must consider