D’Aiguillon, who, perceiving the horror he had raised, or that had been raised, by the story propagated of having attempted to have La Chalotais poisoned, petitioned the King to allow him to be tried for his conduct in his government of Bretagne. Choiseul, under pretence of justifying him, prevailed on the King, not only to consent, but to order the trial in his own presence at Paris, whither the Parliament was ordered to repair and be prosecutors,--a measure big with a cruel alternative; as, if guilty, the Duc D’Aiguillon would not be able to conceal his guilt from the King; and, if acquitted, the novelty of the trial, and the known partiality of his master, would seem to have screened him from conviction. The Parliament was very averse to this new mode, but was obliged to acquiesce; and so great vexation did the accused undergo, that at the very beginning of the trial it threw him into a jaundice. After the trial had gone on for many weeks, the King suddenly put a stop to it, forbade all further proceedings, declared his approbation of the Duc d’Aiguillon’s whole conduct, and that the latter had done nothing but by his orders, and for his service--a sentence, that left the public at liberty to surmise the worst, when the criminal did not dare to trust his cause even to so partial a protector! The sequel of these intrigues will appear in the following years. I shall add, as notes to the foregoing account of the Court of France, some remarkable passages that will throw more light on it. I have mentioned the friendship of the Duchesse de Choiseul for Madame du Deffand. The Prince de Beauvau was so attached to the latter that he scarce ever missed seeing her one day when he was in Paris: and as I had known him above thirty years, and came so often to Paris and lived so much with them, he and the Princess talked their politics before me without reserve. One day in particular, after the Duc de Choiseul’s fall, and the removal of the Prince from his government of Languedoc in consequence, Madame du Deffand was expressing her fears to the Prince and Princess, that he would be removed also from his post of Captain of the King’s Guard. “Oh!” said the Prince, “the King will not take that from me for his own sake.” Madame du Deffand asked what he meant? “Why,” replied the Prince, “he would not think his person safe if I was not the Captain of his Guard. When Prince Charles passed the Rhine, I asked leave to go thither as a volunteer. The King would give me no answer for three days, and then refused me leave: he was afraid to be without me.” In short, they said such strong things, that I feared they would, on reflection, be sorry they had gone so far before a foreigner, and therefore, and that they might not think me curious, I rose and went into the next room. When I returned, the Princess, who was exceedingly quick-sighted, suspected my motive, and questioned me whether she had not penetrated me. When I owned she was in the right,