Nothing new here. I am told that yesterday a man, wanting to beat his wife, with whom he was displeased, prayed thus: "My good God, command that the blows I am about to give thy servant may correct her and make her virtuous." I went to Paris yesterday to see my son and his family and be present at the representation of a new play, called "Artaxerxes," in which there was nothing extraordinary, though there were one or two fine points. On entering my box they gave me your letter of the 7th. I am so well at Saint-Cloud, where I am tranquil and happy, whereas in Paris I am never allowed an instant of rest; one person brings me a petition, another requests me to use my influence, another solicits an audience, another demands an answer to all the letters he has written, until I really cannot bear it any longer. And then people are surprised that I am not charmed with my fate! In this world great people have their troubles as well as little people; that is not surprising; but what is very annoying for the first is that they are always surrounded by a crowd, so that they cannot hide their griefs nor indulge them in solitude; they are always on exhibition. My son does not like the country, he cares for nothing but the life of cities. In that he resembles Mme. de Longueville, who was extremely bored in Normandy, where her husband lived. Those about her said, "Good God! madame, ennui is gnawing you to death; why not take some amusement? Here are horses and dogs and forests; will you hunt?" "No," she said, "I don't like hunting." "Will you embroider?" "No, I don't like embroidery." "Will you take a walk, or play at some game?" "No, I don't like either." "Then what will you do?" some one asked her. She answered: "I can't say; but I don't like innocent pleasures." This Duchesse de Longueville was sister of the Prince de Condé. She had led a very irregular life, but afterwards repented and did penance, and never ceased to fast and pray for the rest of her days. She changed so much that no one could imagine she had ever been handsome; her figure alone preserved its grace--but these are old tales. SAINT-CLOUD, 1718. Nothing new, except that my son came here yesterday afternoon and brought me the decree which alters the legal value of the currency. The _louis d'or_ will henceforth be worth thirty-six francs; those who have a great deal of money will profit finely. I am not of that number; it is a long time since money and I have kept company. You ask me if foreigners professing the Lutheran religion can obtain military employments here. No, they are never admitted except into the Alsace regiment and the Swiss corps.