THE CONFESSIONS OF JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU(In 12 books)

Privately Printed for the Members of the Aldus Society

London, 1903

BOOK X. 

The extraordinary degree of strength a momentary effervescence had givenme to quit the Hermitage, left me the moment I was out of it. I wasscarcely established in my new habitation before I frequently sufferedfrom retentions, which were accompanied by a new complaint; that of arupture, from which I had for some time, without knowing what it was, felt great inconvenience. I soon was reduced to the most cruel state. The physician Thieiry, my old friend, came to see me, and made meacquainted with my situation. The sight of all the apparatus of theinfirmities of years, made me severely feel that when the body is nolonger young, the heart is not so with impunity. The fine season did notrestore me, and I passed the whole year, 1758, in a state of languor, which made me think I was almost at the end of my career. I saw, withimpatience, the closing scene approach. Recovered from the chimeras offriendship, and detached from everything which had rendered lifedesirable to me, I saw nothing more in it that could make it agreeable;all I perceived was wretchedness and misery, which prevented me fromenjoying myself. I sighed after the moment when I was to be free andescape from my enemies. But I must follow the order of events. 

My retreat to Montmorency seemed to disconcert Madam d'Epinay; probablyshe did not expect it. My melancholy situation, the severity of theseason, the general dereliction of me by my friends, all made her andGrimm believe, that by driving me to the last extremity, they shouldoblige me to implore mercy, and thus, by vile meanness, render myselfcontemptible, to be suffered to remain in an asylum which honor commandedme to leave. I left it so suddenly that they had not time to prevent thestep from being taken, and they were reduced to the alternative of doubleor quit, to endeavor to ruin me entirely, or to prevail upon me toreturn. Grimm chose the former; but I am of opinion Madam d'Epinay wouldhave preferred the latter, and this from her answer to my last letter, in which she seemed to have laid aside the airs she had given herself inthe preceding ones, and to give an opening to an accommodation. The longdelay of this answer, for which she made me wait a whole month, sufficiently indicates the difficulty she found in giving it a properturn, and the deliberations by which it was preceded. She could not makeany further advances without exposing herself; but after her formerletters, and my sudden retreat from her house, it is impossible not to bestruck with the care she takes in this letter not to suffer an offensiveexpression to escape her. I will copy it at length to enable my readerto judge of what she wrote:

 GENEVA, January 17, 1758. 

"SIR: I did not receive your letter of the 17th of December untilyesterday. It was sent me in a box filled with different things, andwhich has been all this time upon the road. I shall answer only thepostscript. You may recollect, sir, that we agreed the wages of thegardener of the Hermitage should pass through your hands, the better tomake him feel that he depended upon you, and to avoid the ridiculous andindecent scenes which happened in the time of his predecessor. As aproof of this, the first quarter of his wages were given to you, and afew days before my departure we agreed I should reimburse you what youhad advanced. I know that of this you, at first, made some difficulty;but I had desired you to make these advances; it was natural I shouldacquit myself towards you, and this we concluded upon. Cahouet informsme that you refused to receive the money. There is certainly somemistake in the matter. I have given orders that it may again be offeredto you, and I see no reason for your wishing to pay my gardener, notwithstanding our conventions, and beyond the term even of yourinhabiting the Hermitage. I therefore expect, sir, that recollectingeverything I have the honor to state, you will not refuse to bereimbursed for the sums you have been pleased to advance for me. "

After what had passed, not having the least confidence in Madam d'Epinay, I was unwilling to renew my connection with her; I returned noanswer to this letter, and there our correspondence ended. Perceiving Ihad taken my resolution, she took hers; and, entering into all the viewsof Grimm and the Coterie Holbachique, she united her efforts with theirsto accomplish my destruction. Whilst they manoevured at Paris, she didthe same at Geneva. Grimm, who afterwards went to her there, completedwhat she had begun. Tronchin, whom they had no difficulty in gainingover, seconded them powerfully, and became the most violent of mypersecutors, without having against me, any more than Grimm had, theleast subject of complaint. They all three spread in silence that ofwhich the effects were seen there four years afterwards. 

They had more trouble at Paris, where I was better known to the citizens, whose hearts, less disposed to hatred, less easily received itsimpressions. The better to direct their blow, they began by giving outthat it was I who had left them. Thence, still feigning to be myfriends, they dexterously spread their malignant accusations bycomplaining of the injustice of their friend. Their auditors, thusthrown off their guard, listened more attentively to what was said of me, and were inclined to blame my conduct. The secret accusations of perfidyand ingratitude were made with greater precaution, and by that means withgreater effect. I knew they imputed to me the most atrocious crimeswithout being able to learn in what these consisted. All I could inferfrom public rumor was that this was founded upon the four followingcapital offences: my retiring to the country; my passion for Madamd'Houdetot; my refusing to accompany Madam d'Epinay to Geneva, and myleaving the Hermitage. If to these they added other griefs, they tooktheir measures so well that it has hitherto been impossible for me tolearn the subject of them. 

It is therefore at this period that I think I may fix the establishmentof a system, since adopted by those by whom my fate has been determined, and which has made such a progress as will seem miraculous to persons whoknow not with what facility everything which favors the malignity of manis established. I will endeavor to explain in a few words what to meappeared visible in this profound and obscure system. 

With a name already distinguished and known throughout all Europe, I hadstill preserved my primitive simplicity. My mortal aversion to all partyfaction and cabal had kept me free and independent, without any otherchain than the attachments of my heart. Alone, a stranger, withoutfamily or fortune, and unconnected with everything except my principlesand duties, I intrepidly followed the paths of uprightness, neverflattering or favoring any person at the expense of truth and justice. Besides, having lived for two years past in solitude, without observingthe course of events, I was unconnected with the affairs of the world, and not informed of what passed, nor desirous of being acquainted withit. I lived four leagues from Paris as much separated from that. Capital by my negligence as I should have been in the Island of Tinian bythe sea. 

Grimm, Diderot and D'Holbach were, on the contrary, in the centre of thevortex, lived in the great world, and divided amongst them almost all thespheres of it. The great wits, men of letters, men of long robe, andwomen, all listened to them when they chose to act in concert. Theadvantage three men in this situation united must have over a fourth inmine, cannot but already appear. It is true Diderot and D'Holbach wereincapable, at least I think so, of forming black conspiracies; one ofthem was not base enough, nor the other sufficiently able; but it was forthis reason that the party was more united. Grimm alone formed his planin his own mind, and discovered more of it than was necessary to inducehis associates to concur in the execution. The ascendency he had gainedover them made this quite easy, and the effect of the whole answered tothe superiority of his talents. 

It was with these, which were of a superior kind, that, perceiving theadvantage he might acquire from our respective situations, he conceivedthe project of overturning my reputation, and, without exposing himself, of giving me one of a nature quite opposite, by raising up about me anedifice of obscurity which it was impossible for me to penetrate, and bythat means throw a light upon his manoevures and unmask him. 

This enterprise was difficult, because it was necessary to palliate theiniquity in the eyes of those of whose assistance he stood in need. He had honest men to deceive, to alienate from me the good opinion ofeverybody, and to deprive me of all my friends. What say I? He had tocut off all communication with me, that not a single word of truth mightreach my ears. Had a single man of generosity come and said to me, "Youassume the appearance of virtue, yet this is the manner in which you aretreated, and these the circumstances by which you are judged: what haveyou to say?" truth would have triumphed and Grimm have been undone. Of this he was fully convinced; but he had examined his own heart andestimated men according to their merit. I am sorry, for the honor ofhumanity, that he judged with so much truth. 

In these dark and crooked paths his steps to be the more sure werenecessarily slow. He has for twelve years pursued his plan and the mostdifficult part of the execution of it is still to come; this is todeceive the public entirely. He is afraid of this public, and dares notlay his conspiracy open. 

 [Since this was written he has made the dangerous step with the fullest and most inconceivable success. I am of opinion it was Tronchin who inspired him with courage, and supplied him with the means. ]

But he has found the easy means of accompanying it with power, and thispower has the disposal of me. Thus supported he advances with lessdanger. The agents of power piquing themselves but little onuprightness, and still less on candor, he has no longer the indiscretionof an honest man to fear. His safety is in my being enveloped in animpenetrable obscurity, and in concealing from me his conspiracy, wellknowing that with whatever art he may have formed it, I could by a singleglance of the eye discover the whole. His great address consists inappearing to favor whilst he defames me, and in giving to his perfidy anair of generosity. 

I felt the first effects of this system by the secret accusations of theCoterie Holbachiens without its being possible for me to know in what theaccusations consisted, or to form a probable conjecture as to the natureof them. De Leyre informed me in his letters that heinous things wereattributed to me. Diderot more mysteriously told me the same thing, andwhen I came to an explanation with both, the whole was reduced to theheads of accusation of which I have already spoken. I perceived agradual increase of coolness in the letters from Madam d'Houdetot. ThisI could not attribute to Saint Lambert; he continued to write to me withthe same friendship, and came to see me after his return. It was alsoimpossible to think myself the cause of it, as we had separated wellsatisfied with each other, and nothing since that time had happened on mypart, except my departure from the Hermitage, of which she felt thenecessity. Therefore, not knowing whence this coolness, which sherefused to acknowledge, although my heart was not to be deceived, couldproceed, I was uneasy upon every account. I knew she greatly favored hersister-in-law and Grimm, in consequence of their connections with SaintLambert; and I was afraid of their machinations. This agitation openedmy wounds, and rendered my correspondence so disagreeable as quite todisgust her with it. I saw, as at a distance, a thousand cruelcircumstances, without discovering anything distinctly. I was in asituation the most insupportable to a man whose imagination is easilyheated. Had I been quite retired from the world, and known nothing ofthe matter I should have become more calm; but my heart still clung toattachments, by means of which my enemies had great advantages over me;and the feeble rays which penetrated my asylum conveyed to me nothingmore than a knowledge of the blackness of the mysteries which wereconcealed from my eyes. 

I should have sunk, I have not a doubt of it, under these torments, toocruel and insupportable to my open disposition, which, by theimpossibility of concealing my sentiments, makes me fear everything fromthose concealed from me, if fortunately objects sufficiently interestingto my heart to divert it from others with which, in spite of myself, myimagination was filled, had not presented themselves. In the last visitDiderot paid me, at the Hermitage, he had spoken of the article 'Geneva', which D'Alembert had inserted in the 'Encyclopedie'; he had informed methat this article, concerted with people of the first consideration, hadfor object the establishment of a theatre at Geneva, that measures hadbeen taken accordingly, and that the establishment would soon take place. As Diderot seemed to think all this very proper, and did not doubt of thesuccess of the measure, and as I had besides to speak to him upon toomany other subjects to touch upon that article, I made him no answer: butscandalized at these preparatives to corruption and licentiousness in mycountry, I waited with impatience for the volume of the 'Encyclopedie', in which the article was inserted; to see whether or not it would bepossible to give an answer which might ward off the blow. I received thevolume soon after my establishment at Mont Louis, and found the articlesto be written with much art and address, and worthy of the pen whence itproceeded. This, however, did not abate my desire to answer it, andnotwithstanding the dejection of spirits I then labored under, my griefsand pains, the severity of the season, and the inconvenience of my newabode, in which I had not yet had time to arrange myself, I set to workwith a zeal which surmounted every obstacle. 

In a severe winter, in the month of February, and in the situation I havedescribed, I went every day, morning and evening, to pass a couple ofhours in an open alcove which was at the bottom of the garden in which myhabitation stood. This alcove, which terminated an alley of a terrace, looked upon the valley and the pond of Montmorency, and presented to me, as the closing point of a prospect, the plain but respectable castle ofSt. Gratien, the retreat of the virtuous Catinat. It was in this place, then, exposed to freezing cold, that without being sheltered from thewind and snow, and having no other fire than that in my heart; Icomposed, in the space of three weeks, my letter to D'Alembert ontheatres. It was in this, for my 'Eloisa' was not then half written, that I found charms in philosophical labor. Until then virtuousindignation had been a substitute to Apollo, tenderness and a gentlenessof mind now became so. The injustice I had been witness to had irritatedme, that of which I became the object rendered me melancholy; and thismelancholy without bitterness was that of a heart too tender andaffectionate, and which, deceived by those in whom it had confided, wasobliged to remain concentred. Full of that which had befallen me, andstill affected by so many violent emotions, my heart added the sentimentof its sufferings to the ideas with which a meditation on my subject hadinspired me; what I wrote bore evident marks of this mixture. Withoutperceiving it I described the situation I was then in, gave portraits ofGrimm, Madam d'Epinay, Madam d' Houdetot, Saint Lambert and myself. Whatdelicious tears did I shed as I wrote! Alas! in these descriptionsthere are proofs but too evident that love, the fatal love of which Imade such efforts to cure myself, still remained in my heart. With allthis there was a certain sentiment of tenderness relative to myself; Ithought I was dying, and imagined I bid the public my last adieu. Farfrom fearing death, I joyfully saw it approach; but I felt some regret atleaving my fellow creatures without their having perceived my real merit, and being convinced how much I should have deserved their esteem had theyknown me better. These are the secret causes of the singular manner inwhich this work, opposite to that of the work by which it was preceded, is written. --[Discours sur l'Inegalite. Discourse on the Inequality ofMankind. ]

I corrected and copied the letter, and was preparing to print it when, after a long silence, I received one from Madam d'Houdetot, which broughtupon me a new affliction more painful than any I had yet suffered. Sheinformed me that my passion for her was known to all Paris, that I hadspoken of it to persons who had made it public, that this rumor, havingreached the ears of her lover, had nearly cost him his life; yet he didher justice, and peace was restored between them; but on his account, aswell as on hers, and for the sake of her reputation, she thought it herduty to break off all correspondence with me, at the same time assuringme that she and her friend were both interested in my welfare, that theywould defend me to the public, and that she herself would, from time totime, send to inquire after my health. 

"And thou also, Diderot, " exclaimed I, "unworthy friend!"

I could not, however, yet resolve to condemn him. My weakness was knownto others who might have spoken of it. I wished to doubt, but this wassoon out of my power. Saint Lambert shortly after performed an actionworthy of himself. Knowing my manner of thinking, he judged of the statein which I must be; betrayed by one part of my friends and forsaken bythe other. He came to see me. The first time he had not many moments tospare. He came again. Unfortunately, not expecting him, I was not athome. Theresa had with him a conversation of upwards of two hours, inwhich they informed each other of facts of great importance to us all. The surprise with which I learned that nobody doubted of my having livedwith Madam d'Epinay, as Grimm then did, cannot be equalled, except bythat of Saint Lambert, when he was convinced that the rumor was false. He, to the great dissatisfaction of the lady, was in the same situationwith myself, and the eclaircissements resulting from the conversationremoved from me all regret, on account of my having broken with herforever. Relative to Madam d'Houdetot, he mentioned severalcircumstances with which neither Theresa nor Madam d'Houdetot herselfwere acquainted; these were known to me only in the first instance, and Ihad never mentioned them except to Diderot, under the seal of friendship;and it was to Saint Lambert himself to whom he had chosen to communicatethem. This last step was sufficient to determine me. I resolved tobreak with Diderot forever, and this without further deliberation, excepton the manner of doing it; for I had perceived secret ruptures turned tomy prejudice, because they left the mask of friendship in possession ofmy most cruel enemies. 

The rules of good breeding, established in the world on this head, seemto have been dictated by a spirit of treachery and falsehood. To appearthe friend of a man when in reality we are no longer so, is to reserve toourselves the means of doing him an injury by surprising honest men intoan error. I recollected that when the illustrious Montesquieu broke withFather de Tournemine, he immediately said to everybody: "Listen neitherto Father Tournemine nor myself, when we speak of each other, for we areno longer friends. " This open and generous proceeding was universallyapplauded. I resolved to follow the example with Diderot; but whatmethod was I to take to publish the rupture authentically from myretreat, and yet without scandal? I concluded on inserting in the formof a note, in my work, a passage from the book of Ecclesiasticus, whichdeclared the rupture and even the subject of it, in terms sufficientlyclear to such as were acquainted with the previous circumstances, butcould signify nothing to the rest of the world. I determined not tospeak in my work of the friend whom I renounced, except with the honoralways due to extinguished friendship. The whole may be seen in the workitself. 

There is nothing in this world but time and misfortune, and every act ofcourage seems to be a crime in adversity. For that which has beenadmired in Montesquieu, I received only blame and reproach. As soon asmy work was printed, and I had copies of it, I sent one to Saint Lambert, who, the evening before, had written to me in his own name and that ofMadam d' Houdetot, a note expressive of the most tender friendship. 

The following is the letter he wrote to me when he returned the copy Ihad sent him. 

 EAUBONNE, 10th October, 1758. 

"Indeed, sir, I cannot accept the present you have just made me. In thatpart of your preface where, relative to Diderot, you quote a passage fromEcclesiastes (he mistakes, it is from Ecclesiasticus) the book droppedfrom my hand. In the conversations we had together in the summer, youseemed to be persuaded Diderot was not guilty of the pretendedindiscretions you had imputed to him. You may, for aught I know to thecontrary, have reason to complain of him, but this does not give you aright to insult him publicly. You are not unacquainted with the natureof the persecutions he suffers, and you join the voice of an old friendto that of envy. I cannot refrain from telling you, sir, how much thisheinous act of yours has shocked me. I am not acquainted with Diderot, but I honor him, and I have a lively sense of the pain you give to a man, whom, at least not in my hearing, you have never reproached with anythingmore than a trifling weakness. You and I, sir, differ too much in ourprinciples ever to be agreeable to each other. Forget that I exist; thisyou will easily do. I have never done to men either good or evil of anature to be long remembered. I promise you, sir, to forget your personand to remember nothing relative to you but your talents. "

This letter filled me with indignation and affliction; and, in the excessof my pangs, feeling my pride wounded, I answered him by the followingnote:

 MONTMORUNCY, 11th October, 1758. 

"SIR: While reading your letter, I did you the honor to be surprised atit, and had the weakness to suffer it to affect me; but I find itunworthy of an answer. 

"I will no longer continue the copies of Madam d'Houdetot. If it be notagreeable to her to keep that she has, she may sent it me back and I willreturn her money. If she keeps it, she must still send for the rest ofher paper and the money; and at the same time I beg she will return methe prospectus which she has in her possession. Adieu, sir. "

Courage under misfortune irritates the hearts of cowards, but it ispleasing to generous minds. This note seemed to make Saint Lambertreflect with himself and to regret his having been so violent; but toohaughty in his turn to make open advances, he seized and perhapsprepared, the opportunity of palliating what he had done. 

A fortnight afterwards I received from Madam d'Epinay the followingletter:

 Thursday, 26th. 

"SIR: I received the book you had the goodness to send me, and which Ihave read with much pleasure. I have always experienced the samesentiment in reading all the works which have come from your pen. Receive my thanks for the whole. I should have returned you these inperson had my affairs permitted me to remain any time in yourneighborhood; but I was not this year long at the Chevrette. M. AndMadam Dupin come there on Sunday to dinner. I expect M. De SaintLambert, M. De Francueil, and Madam d'Houdetot will be of the party;you will do me much pleasure by making one also. All the persons who areto dine with me, desire, and will, as well as myself, be delighted topass with you a part of the day. I have the honor to be with the mostperfect consideration, " etc. 

This letter made my heart beat violently; after having for a year pastbeen the subject of conversation of all Paris, the idea of presentingmyself as a spectacle before Madam d'Houdetot, made me tremble, and I hadmuch difficulty to find sufficient courage to support that ceremony. Yet as she and Saint Lambert were desirous of it, and Madam d'Epinayspoke in the name of her guests without naming one whom I should not beglad to see, I did not think I should expose myself accepting a dinner towhich I was in some degree invited by all the persons who with myselfwere to partake of it. I therefore promised to go: on Sunday the weatherwas bad, and Madam D'Epinay sent me her carriage. 

My arrival caused a sensation. I never met a better reception. Anobserver would have thought the whole company felt how much I stood inneed of encouragement. None but French hearts are susceptible of thiskind of delicacy. However, I found more people than I expected to see. Amongst others the Comte d' Houdetot, whom I did not know, and his sisterMadam de Blainville, without whose company I should have been as wellpleased. She had the year before came several times to Eaubonne, and hersister-in-law had left her in our solitary walks to wait until shethought proper to suffer her to join us. She had harbored a resentmentagainst me, which during this dinner she gratified at her ease. Thepresence of the Comte d' Houdetot and Saint Lambert did not give me thelaugh on my side, and it may be judged that a man embarrassed in the mostcommon conversations was not very brilliant in that which then tookplace. I never suffered so much, appeared so awkward, or received moreunexpected mortifications. As soon as we had risen from table, Iwithdrew from that wicked woman; I had the pleasure of seeing SaintLambert and Madam de'Houdetot approach me, and we conversed together apart of the afternoon, upon things very indifferent it is true, but withthe same familiarity as before my involuntary error. This friendlyattention was not lost upon my heart, and could Saint Lambert have readwhat passed there, he certainly would have been satisfied with it. I cansafely assert that although on my arrival the presence of Madamd'Houdetot gave me the most violent palpitations, on returning from thehouse I scarcely thought of her; my mind was entirely taken up with SaintLambert. 

Notwithstanding the malignant sarcasms of Madam de Blainville, the dinnerwas of great service to me, and I congratulated myself upon not havingrefused the invitation. I not only discovered that the intrigues ofGrimm and the Holbachiens had not deprived me of my old acquaintance, [Such is the simplicity of my heart was my opinion when I wrote these confessions. ]

but, what flattered me still more, that Madam d'Houdetot and SaintLambert were less changed than I had imagined, and I at length understoodthat his keeping her at a distance from me proceeded more from jealousythan from disesteem. This was a consolation to me, and calmed my mind. Certain of not being an object of contempt in the eyes of persons whom Iesteemed, I worked upon my own heart with greater courage and success. If I did not quite extinguish in it a guilty and an unhappy passion, I atleast so well regulated the remains of it that they have never since thatmoment led me into the most trifling error. The copies of Madam d'Houdetot, which she prevailed upon me to take again, and my works, whichI continued to send her as soon as they appeared, produced me from her afew notes and messages, indifferent but obliging. She did still more, aswill hereafter appear, and the reciprocal conduct of her lover andmyself, after our intercourse had ceased, may serve as an example of themanner in which persons of honor separate when it is no longer agreeableto them to associate with each other. 

Another advantage this dinner procured me was its being spoken of inParis, where it served as a refutation of the rumor spread by my enemies, that I had quarrelled with every person who partook of it, and especiallywith M. D'Epinay. When I left the Hermitage I had written him a verypolite letter of thanks, to which he answered not less politely, andmutual civilities had continued, as well between us as between me and M. De la Lalive, his brother-in-law, who even came to see me at Montmorency, and sent me some of his engravings. Excepting the two sisters-in-law ofMadam d'Houdetot, I have never been on bad terms with any person of thefamily. 

My letter to D'Alembert had great success. All my works had been verywell received, but this was more favorable to me. It taught the publicto guard against the insinuations of the Coterie Holbachique. When Iwent to the Hermitage, this Coterie predicted with its usual sufficiency, that I should not remain there three months. When I had stayed theretwenty months, and was obliged to leave it, I still fixed my residence inthe country. The Coterie insisted this was from a motive of pureobstinacy, and that I was weary even to death of my retirement; but that, eaten up with pride, I chose rather to become a victim of my stubbornnessthan to recover from it and return to Paris. The letter to D'Alembertbreathed a gentleness of mind which every one perceived not to beaffected. Had I been dissatisfied with my retreat, my style and mannerwould have borne evident marks of my ill-humor. This reigned in all theworks I had written in Paris; but in the first I wrote in the country notthe least appearance of it was to be found. To persons who knew how todistinguish, this remark was decisive. They perceived I was returned tomy element. 

Yet the same work, notwithstanding all the mildness it breathed, made meby a mistake of my own and my usual ill-luck, another enemy amongst menof letters. I had become acquainted with Marmontel at the house of M. Dela Popliniere, and his acquaintance had been continued at that of thebaron. Marmontel at that time wrote the 'Mercure de France'. As I hadtoo much pride to send my works to the authors of periodicalpublications, and wishing to send him this without his imagining it wasin consequence of that title, or being desirous he should speak of it inthe Mercure, I wrote upon the book that it was not for the author of theMercure, but for M. Marmontel. I thought I paid him a fine compliment;he mistook it for a cruel offence, and became my irreconcilable enemy. He wrote against the letter with politeness, it is true, but with abitterness easily perceptible, and since that time has never lost anopportunity of injuring me in society, and of indirectly ill-treating mein his works. Such difficulty is there in managing the irritableself-love of men of letters, and so careful ought every person to benot to leave anything equivocal in the compliments they pay them. 

Having nothing more to disturb me, I took advantage of my leisure andindependence to continue my literary pursuits with more coherence. Ithis winter finished my Eloisa, and sent it to Rey, who had it printedthe year following. I was, however, interrupted in my projects by acircumstance sufficiently disagreeable. I heard new preparations weremaking at the opera-house to give the 'Devin du Village'. Enraged atseeing these people arrogantly dispose of my property, I again took upthe memoir I had sent to M. D'Argenson, to which no answer had beenreturned, and having made some trifling alterations in it, I sent themanuscript by M. Sellon, resident from Geneva, and a letter with which hewas pleased to charge himself, to the Comte de St. Florentin, who hadsucceeded M. D'Argenson in the opera department. Duclos, to whom Icommunicated what I had done, mentioned it to the 'petits violons', whooffered to restore me, not my opera, but my freedom of the theatre, whichI was no longer in a situation to enjoy. Perceiving I had not from anyquarter the least justice to expect, I gave up the affair; and thedirectors of the opera, without either answering or listening to myreasons, have continued to dispose as of their own property, and to turnto their profit, the Devin du Village, which incontestably belong tonobody but myself. 

Since I had shaken off the yoke of my tyrants, I led a life sufficientlyagreeable and peaceful; deprived of the charm of too strong attachmentsI was delivered from the weight of their chains. Disgusted with thefriends who pretended to be my protectors, and wished absolutely todispose of me at will, and in spite of myself, to subject me to theirpretended good services, I resolved in future to have no otherconnections than those of simple benevolence. These, without the leastconstraint upon liberty, constitute the pleasure of society, of whichequality is the basis. I had of them as many as were necessary to enableme to taste of the charm of liberty without being subject to thedependence of it; and as soon as I had made an experiment of this mannerof life, I felt it was the most proper to my age, to end my days inpeace, far removed from the agitations, quarrels and cavillings in whichI had just been half submerged. 

During my residence at the Hermitage, and after my settlement atMontmorency, I had made in the neighborhood some agreeable acquaintance, and which did not subject me to any inconvenience. The principal ofthese was young Loiseau de Mauleon, who, then beginning to plead at thebar, did not yet know what rank he would one day hold there. I for mypart was not in the least doubt about the matter. I soon pointed out tohim the illustrious career in the midst of which he is now seen, andpredicted that, if he laid down to himself rigid rules for the choice ofcauses, and never became the defender of anything but virtue and justice, his genius, elevated by this sublime sentiment, would be equal to that ofthe greatest orators. He followed my advice, and now feels the goodeffects of it. His defence of M. De Portes is worthy of Demosthenes. Hecame every year within a quarter of a league of the Hermitage to pass thevacation at St. Brice, in the fife of Mauleon, belonging to his mother, and where the great Bossuet had formerly lodged. This is a fief, ofwhich a like succession of proprietors would render nobility difficult tosupport. 

I had also for a neighbor in the same village of St. Brice, thebookseller Guerin, a man of wit, learning, of an amiable disposition, andone of the first in his profession. He brought me acquainted with JeanNeaulme, bookseller of Amsterdam, his friend and correspondent, whoafterwards printed Emilius. 

I had another acquaintance still nearer than St. Brice, this was M. Maltor, vicar of Groslay, a man better adapted for the functions of astatesman and a minister, than for those of the vicar of a village, andto whom a diocese at least would have been given to govern if talentsdecided the disposal of places. He had been secretary to the Comte deLuc, and was formerly intimately acquainted with Jean Bapiste Rousseau. Holding in as much esteem the memory of that illustrious exile, as heheld the villain who ruined him in horror; he possessed curious anecdotesof both, which Segur had not inserted in the life, still in manuscript, of the former, and he assured me that the Comte de Luc, far from everhaving had reason to complain of his conduct, had until his last momentpreserved for him the warmest friendship. M. Maltor, to whom M. DeVintimille gave this retreat after the death of his patron, had formerlybeen employed in many affairs of which, although far advanced in years, he still preserved a distinct remembrance, and reasoned upon themtolerably well. His conversation, equally amusing and instructive, hadnothing in it resembling that of a village pastor: he joined the mannersof a man of the world to the knowledge of one who passes his life instudy. He, of all my permanent neighbors, was the person whose societywas the most agreeable to me. 

I was also acquainted at Montmorency with several fathers of the oratory, and amongst others Father Berthier, professor of natural philosophy; towhom, notwithstanding some little tincture of pedantry, I become attachedon account of a certain air of cordial good nature which I observed inhim. I had, however, some difficulty to reconcile this great simplicitywith the desire and the art he had of everywhere thrusting himself intothe company of the great, as well as that of the women, devotees, andphilosophers. He knew how to accommodate himself to every one. I wasgreatly pleased with the man, and spoke of my satisfaction to all myother acquaintances. Apparently what I said of him came to his ear. Heone day thanked me for having thought him a good-natured man. I observedsomething in his forced smile which, in my eyes, totally changed hisphysiognomy, and which has since frequently occurred to my mind. Icannot better compare this smile than to that of Panurge purchasing theSheep of Dindenaut. Our acquaintance had begun a little time after myarrival at the Hermitage, to which place he frequently came to see me. Iwas already settled at Montmorency when he left it to go and reside atParis. He often saw Madam le Vasseur there. One day, when I leastexpected anything of the kind, he wrote to me in behalf of that woman, informing me that Grimm offered to maintain her, and to ask my permissionto accept the offer. This I understood consisted in a pension of threehundred livres, and that Madam le Vasseur was to come and live at Deuil, between the Chevrette and Montmorency. I will not say what impressionthe application made on me. It would have been less surprising had Grimmhad ten thousand livres a year, or any relation more easy to comprehendwith that woman, and had not such a crime been made of my taking her tothe country, where, as if she had become younger, he was now pleased tothink of placing her. I perceived the good old lady had no other reasonfor asking my permission, which she might easily have done without, butthe fear of losing what I already gave her, should I think ill of thestep she took. Although this charity appeared to be very extraordinary, it did not strike me so much then as afterwards. But had I known eveneverything I have since discovered, I should still as readily have givenmy consent as I did and was obliged to do, unless I had exceeded theoffer of M. Grimm. Father Berthier afterwards cured me a little of myopinion of his good nature and cordiality, with which I had sounthinkingly charged him. 

This same Father Berthier was acquainted with two men, who, for whatreason I know not, were to become so with me; there was but littlesimilarity between their taste and mine. They were the children ofMelchisedec, of whom neither the country nor the family was known, nomore than, in all probability, the real name. They were Jansenists, andpassed for priests in disguise, perhaps on account of their ridiculousmanner of wearing long swords, to which they appeared to have beenfastened. The prodigious mystery in all their proceedings gave them theappearance of the heads of a party, and I never had the least doubt oftheir being the authors of the 'Gazette Ecclesiastique'. The one, tall, smooth-tongued, and sharping, was named Ferrand; the other, short, squat, a sneerer, and punctilious, was a M. Minard. They called each othercousin. They lodged at Paris with D'Alembert, in the house of his nursenamed Madam Rousseau, and had taken at Montmorency a little apartment topass the summers there. They did everything for themselves, and hadneither a servant nor runner; each had his turn weekly to purchaseprovisions, do the business of the kitchen, and sweep the house. Theymanaged tolerably well, and we sometimes ate with each other. I know notfor what reason they gave themselves any concern about me: for my part, my only motive for beginning an acquaintance with them was their playingat chess, and to make a poor little party I suffered four hours' fatigue. As they thrust themselves into all companies, and wished to intermeddlein everything, Theresa called them the gossips, and by this name theywere long known at Montmorency. 

Such, with my host M. Mathas, who was a good man, were my principalcountry acquaintance. I still had a sufficient number at Paris to livethere agreeably whenever I chose it, out of the sphere of men of letters, amongst whom Duclos, was the only friend I reckoned: for De Levre wasstill too young, and although, after having been a witness to themanoeuvres of the philosophical tribe against me, he had withdrawn fromit, at least I thought so, I could not yet forget the facility with whichhe made himself the mouthpiece of all the people of that description. 

In the first place I had my old and respectable friend Roguin. This wasa good old-fashioned friend for whom I was not indebted to my writingsbut to myself, and whom for that reason I have always preserved. I hadthe good Lenieps, my countryman, and his daughter, then alive, MadamLambert. I had a young Genevese, named Coindet, a good creature, careful, officious, zealous, who came to see me soon after I had gone toreside at the Hermitage, and, without any other introducer than himself, had made his way into my good graces. He had a taste for drawing, andwas acquainted with artists. He was of service to me relative to theengravings of the New Eloisa; he undertook the direction of the drawingsand the plates, and acquitted himself well of the commission. 

I had free access to the house of M. Dupin, which, less brilliant than inthe young days of Madam Dupin, was still, by the merit of the heads ofthe family, and the choice of company which assembled there, one of thebest houses in Paris. As I had not preferred anybody to them, and hadseparated myself from their society to live free and independent, theyhad always received me in a friendly manner, and I was always certain ofbeing well received by Madam Dupin. I might even have counted heramongst my country neighbors after her establishment at Clichy, to whichplace I sometimes went to pass a day or two, and where I should have beenmore frequently had Madam Dupin and Madam de Chenonceaux been upon betterterms. But the difficulty of dividing my time in the same house betweentwo women whose manner of thinking was unfavorable to each other, madethis disagreeable: however I had the pleasure of seeing her more at myease at Deuil, where, at a trifling distance from me, she had taken asmall house, and even at my own habitation, where she often came to seeme. 

I had likewise for a friend Madam de Crequi, who, having become devout, no longer received D'Alembert, Marmontel, nor a single man of letters, except, I believe the Abbe Trublet, half a hypocrite, of whom she wasweary. I, whose acquaintance she had sought lost neither her good wishesnor intercourse. She sent me young fat pullets from Mons, and herintention was to come and see me the year following had not a journey, upon which Madam de Luxembourg determined, prevented her. I here owe hera place apart; she will always hold a distinguished one in myremembrance. 

In this list I should also place a man whom, except Roguin, I ought tohave mentioned as the first upon it; my old friend and brotherpolitician, De Carrio, formerly titulary secretary to the embassy fromSpain to Venice, afterwards in Sweden, where he was charge des affaires, and at length really secretary to the embassy from Spain at Paris. Hecame and surprised me at Montmorency when I least expected him. He wasdecorated with the insignia of a Spanish order, the name of which I haveforgotten, with a fine cross in jewelry. He had been obliged, in hisproofs of nobility, to add a letter to his name, and to bear that of theChevalier de Carrion. I found him still the same man, possessing thesame excellent heart, and his mind daily improving, and becoming more andmore amiable. We would have renewed our former intimacy had not Coindetinterposed according to custom, taken advantage of the distance I was atfrom town to insinuate himself into my place, and, in my name, into hisconfidence, and supplant me by the excess of his zeal to render meservices. 

The remembrance of Carrion makes me recollect one of my countryneighbors, of whom I should be inexcusable not to speak, as I have tomake confession of an unpardonable neglect of which I was guilty towardshim: this was the honest M. Le Blond, who had done me a service atVenice, and, having made an excursion to France with his family, hadtaken a house in the country, at Birche, not far from Montmorency. 

 [When I wrote this, full of my blind confidence, I was far from suspecting the real motive and the effect of his journey to Paris. ]

As soon as I heard he was my neighbor, I, in the joy of my heart, andmaking it more a pleasure than a duty, went to pay him a visit. I setoff upon this errand the next day. I was met by people who were comingto see me, and with whom I was obliged to return. Two days afterwards Iset off again for the same purpose: he had dined at Paris with all hisfamily. A third time he was at home: I heard the voice of women, andsaw, at the door, a coach which alarmed me. I wished to see him, atleast for the first time, quite at my ease, that we might talk over whathad passed during our former connection. 

In fine, I so often postponed my visit from day to day, that the shame ofdischarging a like duty so late prevented me from doing it at all; afterhaving dared to wait so long, I no longer dared to present myself. Thisnegligence, at which M. Le Blond could not but be justly offended, gave, relative to him, the appearance of ingratitude to my indolence, and yet Ifelt my heart so little culpable that, had it been in my power to do M. Le Blond the least service, even unknown to himself, I am certain hewould not have found me idle. But indolence, negligence and delay inlittle duties to be fulfilled have been more prejudicial to me than greatvices. My greatest faults have been omissions: I have seldom done what Iought not to have done, and unfortunately it has still more rarelyhappened that I have done what I ought. 

Since I am now upon the subject of my Venetian acquaintance, I must notforget one which I still preserved for a considerable time after myintercourse with the rest had ceased. This was M. De Joinville, whocontinued after his return from Genoa to show me much friendship. He wasfond of seeing me and of conversing with me upon the affairs of Italy, and the follies of M. De Montaigu, of whom he of himself knew manyanecdotes, by means of his acquaintance in the office for foreign affairsin which he was much connected. I had also the pleasure of seeing at myhouse my old comrade Dupont who had purchased a place in the province ofwhich he was, and whose affairs had brought him to Paris. M. DeJoinville became by degrees so desirous of seeing me, that he in somemeasure laid me under constraint; and, although our places of residencewere at a great distance from each other, we had a friendly quarrel whenI let a week pass without going to dine with him. When he went toJoinville he was always desirous of my accompanying him; but having oncebeen there to pass a week I had not the least desire to return. M. DeJoinville was certainly an honest man, and even amiable in certainrespects but his understanding was beneath mediocrity; he was handsome, rather fond of his person and tolerably fatiguing. He had one of themost singular collections perhaps in the world, to which he gave much ofhis attention and endeavored to acquire it that of his friends, to whomit sometimes afforded less amusement than it did to himself. This was acomplete collection of songs of the court and Paris for upwards of fiftyyears past, in which many anecdotes were to be found that would have beensought for in vain elsewhere. These are memoirs for the history ofFrance, which would scarcely be thought of in any other country. 

One day, whilst we were still upon the very best terms, he received me socoldly and in a manner so different from that which was customary to him, that after having given him an opportunity to explain, and even havingbegged him to do it, I left his house with a resolution, in which I havepersevered, never to return to it again; for I am seldom seen where Ihave been once ill received, and in this case there was no Diderot whopleaded for M. De Joinville. I vainly endeavored to discover what I haddone to offend him; I could not recollect a circumstance at which hecould possibly have taken offence. I was certain of never having spokenof him or his in any other than in the most honorable manner; for he hadacquired my friendship, and besides my having nothing but favorablethings to say of him, my most inviolable maxim has been that of neverspeaking but in an honorable manner of the houses I frequented. 

At length, by continually ruminating. I formed the following conjecture:the last time we had seen each other, I had supped with him at theapartment of some girls of his acquaintance, in company with two or threeclerks in the office of foreign affairs, very amiable men, and who hadneither the manner nor appearance of libertines; and on my part, I canassert that the whole evening passed in making melancholy reflections onthe wretched fate of the creatures with whom we were. I did not payanything, as M. De Joinville gave the supper, nor did I make the girlsthe least present, because I gave them not the opportunity I had done tothe padoana of establishing a claim to the trifle I might have offered, We all came away together, cheerfully and upon very good terms. Withouthaving made a second visit to the girls, I went three or four daysafterwards to dine with M. De Joinville, whom I had not seen during thatinterval, and who gave me the reception of which I have spoken. Unableto suppose any other cause for it than some misunderstanding relative tothe supper, and perceiving he had no inclination to explain, I resolvedto visit him no longer, but I still continued to send him my works: hefrequently sent me his compliments, and one evening, meeting him in thegreen-room of the French theatre, he obligingly reproached me with nothaving called to see him, which, however, did not induce me to departfrom my resolution. Therefore this affair had rather the appearance of acoolness than a rupture. However, not having heard of nor seen him sincethat time, it would have been too late after an absence of several years, to renew my acquaintance with him. It is for this reason M. De Joinvilleis not named in my list, although I had for a considerable timefrequented his house. 

I will not swell my catalogue with the names of many other persons withwhom I was or had become less intimate, although I sometimes saw them inthe country, either at my own house or that of some neighbor, such forinstance as the Abbes de Condillac and De Malby, M. De Mairan, De laLalive, De Boisgelou, Vatelet, Ancelet, and others. I will also passlightly over that of M. De Margency, gentleman in ordinary of the king, an ancient member of the 'Coterie Holbachique', which he had quitted aswell as myself, and the old friend of Madam d'Epinay from whom he hadseparated as I had done; I likewise consider that of M. Desmahis, hisfriend, the celebrated but short-lived author of the comedy of theImpertinent, of much the same importance. The first was my neighbor inthe country, his estate at Margency being near to Montmorency. We wereold acquaintances, but the neighborhood and a certain conformity ofexperience connected us still more. The last died soon afterwards. Hehad merit and even wit, but he was in some degree the original of hiscomedy, and a little of a coxcomb with women, by whom he was not muchregretted. 

I cannot, however, omit taking notice of a new correspondence I enteredinto at this period, which has had too much influence over the rest of mylife not to make it necessary for me to mark its origin. The person inquestion is De Lamoignon de Malesherbes of the 'Cour des aides', thencensor of books, which office he exercised with equal intelligence andmildness, to the great satisfaction of men of letters. I had not oncebeen to see him at Paris; yet I had never received from him any otherthan the most obliging condescensions relative to the censorship, and Iknew that he had more than once very severely reprimanded persons who hadwritten against me. I had new proofs of his goodness upon the subject ofthe edition of Eloisa. The proofs of so great a work being veryexpensive from Amsterdam by post, he, to whom all letters were free, permitted these to be addressed to him, and sent them to me under thecountersign of the chancellor his father. When the work was printed hedid not permit the sale of it in the kingdom until, contrary to my wishesan edition had been sold for my benefit. As the profit of this would onmy part have been a theft committed upon Rey, to whom I had sold themanuscript, I not only refused to accept the present intended me, withouthis consent, which he very generously gave, but persisted upon dividingwith him the hundred pistoles (a thousand livres--forty pounds), theamount of it but of which he would not receive anything. For thesehundred pistoles I had the mortification, against which M. De Malesherbeshad not guarded me, of seeing my work horribly mutilated, and the sale ofthe good edition stopped until the bad one was entirely disposed of. 

I have always considered M. De Malesherbes as a man whose uprightness wasproof against every temptation. Nothing that has happened has even mademe doubt for a moment of his probity; but, as weak as he is polite, hesometimes injures those he wishes to serve by the excess of his zeal topreserve them from evil. He not only retrenched a hundred pages in theedition of Paris, but he made another retrenchment, which no person butthe author could permit himself to do, in the copy of the good edition hesent to Madam de Pompadour. It is somewhere said in that work that thewife of a coal-heaver is more respectable than the mistress of a prince. This phrase had occurred to me in the warmth of composition without anyapplication. In reading over the work I perceived it would be applied, yet in consequence of the very imprudent maxim I had adopted of notsuppressing anything, on account of the application which might be made, when my conscience bore witness to me that I had not made them at thetime I wrote, I determined not to expunge the phrase, and contentedmyself with substituting the word Prince to King, which I had firstwritten. This softening did not seem sufficient to M. De Malesherbes: heretrenched the whole expression in a new sheet which he had printed onpurpose and stuck in between the other with as much exactness as possiblein the copy of Madam de Pompadour. She was not ignorant of thismanoeuvre. Some good-natured people took the trouble to inform her ofit. For my part, it was not until a long time afterwards, and when Ibegan to feel the consequences of it, that the matter came to myknowledge. 

Is not this the origin of the concealed but implacable hatred of anotherlady who was in a like situation, without my knowing it, or even beingacquainted with her person when I wrote the passage? When the book waspublished the acquaintance was made, and I was very uneasy. I mentionedthis to the Chevalier de Lorenzy, who laughed at me, and said the ladywas so little offended that she had not even taken notice of the matter. I believed him, perhaps rather too lightly, and made myself easy whenthere was much reason for my being otherwise. 

At the beginning of the winter I received an additional mark of thegoodness of M. De Malesherbes of which I was very sensible, although Idid not think proper to take advantage of it. A place was vacant in the'Journal des Savans'. Margency wrote to me, proposing to me the place, as from himself. But I easily perceived from the manner of the letterthat he was dictated to and authorized; he afterwards told me he had beendesired to make me the offer. The occupations of this place were buttrifling. All I should have had to do would have been to make twoabstracts a month, from the books brought to me for that purpose, withoutbeing under the necessity of going once to Paris, not even to pay themagistrate a visit of thanks. By this employment I should have entered asociety of men of letters of the first merit; M. De Mairan, Clairaut, DeGuignes and the Abbe Barthelemi, with the first two of whom I had alreadymade an acquaintance, and that of the two others was very desirable. Infine, for this trifling employment, the duties of which I might socommodiously have discharged, there was a salary of eight hundred livres(thirty-three pounds); I was for a few hours undecided, and this from afear of making Margency angry and displeasing M. De Malesherbes. But atlength the insupportable constraint of not having it in my power to workwhen I thought proper, and to be commanded by time; and moreover thecertainty of badly performing the functions with which I was to chargemyself, prevailed over everything, and determined me to refuse a placefor which I was unfit. I knew that my whole talent consisted in acertain warmth of mind with respect to the subjects of what I had totreat, and that nothing but the love of that which was great, beautifuland sublime, could animate my genius. What would the subjects of theextracts I should have had to make from books, or even the booksthemselves, have signified to me? My indifference about them would havefrozen my pen, and stupefied my mind. People thought I could make atrade of writing, as most of the other men of letters did, instead ofwhich I never could write but from the warmth of imagination. Thiscertainly was not necessary for the 'Journal des Savans'. I thereforewrote to Margency a letter of thanks, in the politest terms possible, andso well explained to him my reasons, that it was not possible that eitherhe or M. De Malesherbes could imagine there was pride or ill-humor in myrefusal. They both approved of it without receiving me less politely, and the secret was so well kept that it was never known to the public. 

The proposition did not come in a favorable moment. I had some timebefore this formed the project of quitting literature, and especially thetrade of an author. I had been disgusted with men of letters byeverything that had lately befallen me, and had learned from experiencethat it was impossible to proceed in the same track without having someconnections with them. I was not much less dissatisfied with men of theworld, and in general with the mixed life I had lately led, half tomyself and half devoted to societies for which I was unfit. I felt morethan ever, and by constant experience, that every unequal association isdisadvantageous to the weaker person. Living with opulent people, and ina situation different from that I had chosen, without keeping a house asthey did, I was obliged to imitate them in many things; and littleexpenses, which were nothing to their fortunes, were for me not lessruinous than indispensable. Another man in the country-house of afriend, is served by his own servant, as well at table as in his chamber;he sends him to seek for everything he wants; having nothing directly todo with the servants of the house, not even seeing them, he gives themwhat he pleases, and when he thinks proper; but I, alone, and without aservant, was at the mercy of the servants of the house, of whom it wasnecessary to gain the good graces, that I might not have much to suffer;and being treated as the equal of their master, I was obliged to treatthem accordingly, and better than another would have done, because, infact, I stood in greater need of their services. This, where there arebut few domestics, may be complied with; but in the houses I frequentedthere were a great number, and the knaves so well understood theirinterests that they knew how to make me want the services of them allsuccessively. The women of Paris, who have so much wit, have no justidea of this inconvenience, and in their zeal to economize my purse theyruined me. If I supped in town, at any considerable distance from mylodgings, instead of permitting me to send for a hackney coach, themistress of the house ordered her horses to be put to and sent me home inher carriage. She was very glad to save me the twenty-four sous(shilling) for the fiacre, but never thought of the half-crown I gave toher coachman and footman. If a lady wrote to me from Paris to the Hermitage or to Montmorency, she regretted the four sous (two pence) thepostage of the letter would have cost me, and sent it by one of herservants, who came sweating on foot, and to whom I gave a dinner and halfa crown, which he certainly had well earned. If she proposed to me topass with her a week or a fortnight at her country-house, she still saidto herself, "It will be a saving to the poor man; during that time hiseating will cost him nothing. " She never recollected that I was thewhole time idle, that the expenses of my family, my rent, linen andclothes were still going on, that I paid my barber double that it cost memore being in her house than in my own, and although I confined mylittle largesses to the house in which I customarily lived, that thesewere still ruinous to me. I am certain I have paid upwards oftwenty-five crowns in the house of Madam d'Houdetot, at Raubonne, whereI never slept more than four or five times, and upwards of a thousandlivres (forty pounds) as well at Epinay as at the Chevrette, during thefive or six years I was most assiduous there. These expenses areinevitable to a man like me, who knows not how to provide anything forhimself, and cannot support the sight of a lackey who grumbles andserves him with a sour look. With Madam Dupin, even where I was one ofthe family, and in whose house I rendered many services to the servants, I never received theirs but for my money. In course of time it wasnecessary to renounce these little liberalities, which my situation nolonger permitted me to bestow, and I felt still more severely theinconvenience of associating with people in a situation different frommy own. 

Had this manner of life been to my taste, I should have been consoled fora heavy expense, which I dedicated to my pleasures; but to ruin myself atthe same time that I fatigued my mind, was insupportable, and I had sofelt the weight of this, that, profiting by the interval of liberty Ithen had, I was determined to perpetuate it, and entirely to renouncegreat companies, the composition of books, and all literary concerns, andfor the remainder of my days to confine myself to the narrow and peacefulsphere in which I felt I was born to move. 

The produce of this letter to D'Alembert, and of the New Elosia, had alittle improved the state of my finances, which had been considerablyexhausted at the Hermitage. Emilius, to which, after I had finishedEloisa, I had given great application, was in forwardness, and theproduce of this could not be less than the sum of which I was already inpossession. I intended to place this money in such a manner as toproduce me a little annual income, which, with my copying, might besufficient to my wants without writing any more. I had two other worksupon the stocks. The first of these was my 'Institutions Politiques'. I examined the state of this work, and found it required several years'labor. I had not courage enough to continue it, and to wait until it wasfinished before I carried my intentions into execution. Therefore, laying the book aside, I determined to take from it all I could, and toburn the rest; and continuing this with zeal without interruptingEmilius, I finished the 'Contrat Social'. 

The dictionary of music now remained. This was mechanical, and might betaken up at any time; the object of it was entirely pecuniary. Ireserved to myself the liberty of laying it aside, or of finishing it atmy ease, according as my other resources collected should render thisnecessary or superfluous. With respect to the 'Morale Sensitive', of which I had made nothing more than a sketch, I entirely gave it up. 

As my last project, if I found I could not entirely do without copying, was that of removing from Paris, where the affluence of my visitorsrendered my housekeeping expensive, and deprived me of the time I shouldhave turned to advantage to provide for it; to prevent in my retirementthe state of lassitude into which an author is said to fall when he haslaid down his pen, I reserved to myself an occupation which might fill upthe void in my solitude without tempting me to print anything more. I know not for what reason they had long tormented me to write thememoirs of my life. Although these were not until that time interestingas to the facts, I felt they might become so by the candor with which Iwas capable of giving them, and I determined to make of these the onlywork of the kind, by an unexampled veracity, that, for once at least, theworld might see a man such as he internally was. I had always laughed atthe false ingenuousness of Montaigne, who, feigning to confess hisfaults, takes great care not to give himself any, except such as areamiable; whilst I, who have ever thought, and still think myself, considering everything, the best of men, felt there is no human being, however pure he maybe, who does not internally conceal some odious vice. I knew I was described to the public very different from what I reallywas, and so opposite, that notwithstanding my faults, all of which I wasdetermined to relate, I could not but be a gainer by showing myself in myproper colors. This, besides, not being to be done without setting forthothers also in theirs and the work for the same reason not being of anature to appear during my lifetime, and that of several other persons, I was the more encouraged to make my confession, at which I should neverhave to blush before any person. I therefore resolved to dedicate myleisure to the execution of this undertaking, and immediately began tocollect such letters and papers as might guide or assist my memory, greatly regretting the loss of all I had burned, mislaid and destroyed. 

The project of absolute retirement, one of the most reasonable I had everformed, was strongly impressed upon my mind, and for the execution of itI was already taking measures, when Heaven, which prepared me a differentdestiny, plunged me into a another vortex. 

Montmorency, the ancient and fine patrimony of the illustrious family ofthat name, was taken from it by confiscation. It passed by the sister ofDuke Henry, to the house of Conde, which has changed the name ofMontmorency to that of Enguien, and the duchy has no other castle than anold tower, where the archives are kept, and to which the vassals come todo homage. But at Montmorency, or Enguien, there is a private house, built by Crosat, called 'le pauvre', which having the magnificence of themost superb chateaux, deserves and bears the name of a castle. Themajestic appearance of this noble edifice, the view from it, not equalledperhaps in any country; the spacious saloon, painted by the hand of amaster; the garden, planted by the celebrated Le Notre; all combined toform a whole strikingly majestic, in which there is still a simplicitythat enforces admiration. The Marechal Duke de Luxembourg who theninhabited this house, came every year into the neighborhood whereformerly his ancestors were the masters, to pass, at least, five or sixweeks as a private inhabitant, but with a splendor which did notdegenerate from the ancient lustre of his family. On the first journeyhe made to it after my residing at Montmorency, he and his lady sent tome a valet de chambre, with their compliments, inviting me to sup withthem as often as it should be agreeable to me; and at each time of theircoming they never failed to reiterate the same compliments andinvitation. This called to my recollection Madam Beuzenval sending me todine in the servants' hall. Times were changed; but I was still the sameman. I did not choose to be sent to dine in the servants' hall, and wasbut little desirous of appearing at the table of the great I should havebeen much better pleased had they left me as I was, without caressing meand rendering me ridiculous. I answered politely and respectfully toMonsieur and Madam de Luxembourg, but I did not accept their offers, andmy indisposition and timidity, with my embarrassment in speaking; makingme tremble at the idea alone of appearing in an assembly of people of thecourt. I did not even go to the castle to pay a visit of thanks, although I sufficiently comprehended this was all they desired, and thattheir eager politeness was rather a matter of curiosity than benevolence. 

However, advances still were made, and even became more pressing. The Countess de Boufflers, who was very intimate with the lady of themarechal, sent to inquire after my health, and to beg I would go and seeher. I returned her a proper answer, but did not stir from my house. At the journey of Easter, the year following, 1759, the Chevalier deLorenzy, who belonged to the court of the Prince of Conti, and wasintimate with Madam de Luxembourg, came several times to see me, and webecame acquainted; he pressed me to go to the castle, but I refused tocomply. At length, one afternoon, when I least expected anything of thekind, I saw coming up to the house the Marechal de Luxembourg, followedby five or six persons. There was now no longer any means of defence;and I could not, without being arrogant and unmannerly, do otherwise thanreturn this visit, and make my court to Madam la Marechale, from whom themarechal had been the bearer of the most obliging compliments to me. Thus, under unfortunate auspices, began the connections from which Icould no longer preserve myself, although a too well-founded foresightmade me afraid of them until they were made. 

I was excessively afraid of Madam de Luxembourg. I knew, she was amiableas to manner. I had seen her several times at the theatre, and with theDuchess of Boufflers, and in the bloom of her beauty; but she was said tobe malignant; and this in a woman of her rank made me tremble. I hadscarcely seen her before I was subjugated. I thought her charming, withthat charm proof against time and which had the most powerful action uponmy heart. I expected to find her conversation satirical and full ofpleasantries and points. It was not so; it was much better. Theconversation of Madam de Luxembourg is not remarkably full of wit; it hasno sallies, nor even finesse; it is exquisitely delicate, never striking, but always pleasing. Her flattery is the more intoxicating as it isnatural; it seems to escape her involuntarily, and her heart to overflowbecause it is too full. I thought I perceived, on my first visit, thatnotwithstanding my awkward manner and embarrassed expression, I was notdispleasing to her. All the women of the court know how to persuade usof this when they please, whether it be true or not, but they do not all, like Madam de Luxembourg, possess the art of rendering that persuasion soagreeable that we are no longer disposed ever to have a doubt remaining. From the first day my confidence in her would have been as full as itsoon afterwards became, had not the Duchess of Montmorency, herdaughter-in-law, young, giddy, and malicious also, taken it into herhead to attack me, and in the midst of the eulogiums of her mamma, andfeigned allurements on her own account, made me suspect I was onlyconsidered by them as a subject of ridicule. 

It would perhaps have been difficult to relieve me from this fear withthese two ladies had not the extreme goodness of the marechal confirmedme in the belief that theirs was not real. Nothing is more surprising, considering my timidity, than the promptitude with which I took him athis word on the footing of equality to which he would absolutely reducehimself with me, except it be that with which he took me at mine withrespect to the absolute independence in which I was determined to live. Both persuaded I had reason to be content with my situation, and that Iwas unwilling to change it, neither he nor Madam de Luxembourg seemed tothink a moment of my purse or fortune; although I can have no doubt ofthe tender concern they had for me, they never proposed to me a place noroffered me their interest, except it were once, when Madam de Luxembourgseemed to wish me to become a member of the French Academy. I alleged myreligion; this she told me was no obstacle, or if it was one she engagedto remove it. I answered, that however great the honor of becoming amember of so illustrious a body might be, having refused M. De Tressan, and, in some measure, the King of Poland, to become a member of theAcademy at Nancy, I could not with propriety enter into any other. Madamde Luxembourg did not insist, and nothing more was said upon the subject. This simplicity of intercourse with persons of such rank, and who had thepower of doing anything in my favor, M. De Luxembourg being, and highlydeserving to be, the particular friend of the king, affords a singularcontrast with the continual cares, equally importunate and officious, ofthe friends and protectors from whom I had just separated, and whoendeavored less to serve me than to render me contemptible. 

When the marechal came to see me at Mont Louis, I was uneasy at receivinghim and his retinue in my only chamber; not because I was obliged to makethem all sit down in the midst of my dirty plates and broken pots, but onaccount of the state of the floor, which was rotten and falling to ruin, and I was afraid the weight of his attendants would entirely sink it. Less concerned on account of my own danger than for that to which theaffability of the marechal exposed him, I hastened to remove him from itby conducting him, notwithstanding the coldness of the weather, to myalcove, which was quite open to the air, and had no chimney. When he wasthere I told him my reason for having brought him to it; he told it tohis lady, and they both pressed me to accept, until the floor wasrepaired, a lodging of the castle; or, if I preferred it, in a separateedifice called the Little Castle which was in the middle of the park. This delightful abode deserves to be spoken of. 

The park or garden of Montmorency is not a plain, like that of theChevrette. It is uneven, mountainous, raised by little hills andvalleys, of which the able artist has taken advantage; and thereby variedhis groves, ornaments, waters, and points of view, and, if I may sospeak, multiplied by art and genius a space in itself rather narrow. This park is terminated at the top by a terrace and the castle; at bottomit forms a narrow passage which opens and becomes wider towards thevalley, the angle of which is filled up with a large piece of water. Between the orangery, which is in this widening, and the piece of water, the banks of which are agreeably decorated, stands the Little Castle ofwhich I have spoken. This edifice, and the ground about it, formerlybelonged to the celebrated Le Brun, who amused himself in building anddecorating it in the exquisite taste of architectual ornaments which thatgreat painter had formed to himself. The castle has since been rebuilt, but still, according to the plan and design of its first master. It islittle and simple, but elegant. As it stands in a hollow between theorangery and the large piece of water, and consequently is liable to bedamp, it is open in the middle by a peristyle between two rows ofcolumns, by which means the air circulating throughout the whole edificekeeps it dry, notwithstanding its unfavorable situation. When thebuilding is seen from the opposite elevation, which is a point of view, it appears absolutely surrounded with water, and we imagine we havebefore our eyes an enchanted island, or the most beautiful of the threeBoromeans, called Isola Bella, in the greater lake. 

In this solitary edifice I was offered the choice of four completeapartments it contains, besides the ground floor, consisting of a dancingroom, billiard room and a kitchen. I chose the smallest over thekitchen, which also I had with it. It was charmingly neat, with blue andwhite furniture. In this profound and delicious solitude, in the midstof the woods, the singing of birds of every kind, and the perfume oforange flowers, I composed, in a continual ecstasy, the fifth book ofEmilius, the coloring of which I owe in a great measure to the livelyimpression I received from the place I inhabited. 

With what eagerness did I run every morning at sunrise to respire theperfumed air in the peristyle! What excellent coffee I took theretete-a-tete with my Theresa. My cat and dog were our company. Thisretinue alone would have been sufficient for me during my whole life, in which I should not have had one weary moment. I was there in aterrestrial paradise; I lived in innocence and tasted of happiness. 

At the journey of July, M. And Madam de Luxembourg showed me so muchattention, and were so extremely kind, that, lodged in their house, andoverwhelmed with their goodness, I could not do less than make them aproper return in assiduous respect near their persons; I scarcely quittedthem; I went in the morning to pay my court to Madam la Marechale; afterdinner I walked with the marechal; but did not sup at the castle onaccount of the numerous guests, and because they supped too late for me. Thus far everything was as it should be, and no harm would have been donecould I have remained at this point. But I have never known how topreserve a medium in my attachments, and simply fulfil the duties ofsociety. I have ever been everything or nothing. I was soon everything;and receiving the most polite attention from persons of the highest rank, I passed the proper bounds, and conceived for them a friendship notpermitted except among equals. Of these I had all the familiarity in mymanners, whilst they still preserved in theirs the same politeness towhich they had accustomed me. Yet I was never quite at my ease withMadam de Luxembourg. Although I was not quite relieved from my fearsrelative to her character, I apprehended less danger from it than fromher wit. It was by this especially that she impressed me with awe. I knew she was difficult as to conversation, and she had a right to beso. I knew women, especially those of her rank, would absolutely beamused, that it was better to offend than to weary them, and I judged byher commentaries upon what the people who went away had said what shemust think of my blunders. I thought of an expedient to spare me withher the embarrassment of speaking; this was reading. She had heard of myEloisa, and knew it was in the press; she expressed a desire to see thework; I offered to read it to her, and she accepted my offer. I went toher every morning at ten o'clock; M. De Luxembourg was present, and thedoor was shut. I read by the side of her bed, and so well proportionedmy readings that there would have been sufficient for the whole time shehad to stay, had they even not been interrupted. 

 [The loss of a great battle, which much afflicted the King, obliged M. De Luxembourg precipitately to return to court. ]

The success of this expedient surpassed my expectation. Madam deLuxembourg took a great liking to Julia and the author; she spoke ofnothing but me, thought of nothing else, said civil things to me frommorning till night, and embraced me ten times a day. She insisted on mealways having my place by her side at table, and when any great lordswished it she told them it was mine, and made them sit down somewhereelse. The impression these charming manners made upon me, who wassubjugated by the least mark of affection, may easily be judged of. I became really attached to her in proportion to the attachment sheshowed me. All my fear in perceiving this infatuation, and feeling thewant of agreeableness in myself to support it, was that it would bechanged into disgust; and unfortunately this fear was but too wellfounded. 

There must have been a natural opposition between her turn of mind andmine, since, independently of the numerous stupid things which at everyinstant escaped me in conversation, and even in my letters, and when Iwas upon the best terms with her, there were certain other things withwhich she was displeased without my being able to imagine the reason. I will quote one instance from among twenty. She knew I was writing forMadam d'Houdetot a copy of the New Eloisa. She was desirous to have oneon the same footing. This I promised her, and thereby making her one ofmy customers, I wrote her a polite letter upon the subject, at least suchwas my intention. Her answer, which was as follows, stupefied me withsurprise. 

 VERSAILLES, Tuesday. 

"I am ravished, I am satisfied: your letter has given me infinitepleasure, and I take the earliest moment to acquaint you with, and thankyou for it. 

"These are the exact words of your letter: 'Although you are certainly avery good customer, I have some pain in receiving your money: accordingto regular order I ought to pay for the pleasure I should have in workingfor you. ' I will say nothing more on the subject. I have to complain ofyour not speaking of your state of health: nothing interests me more. I love you with all my heart: and be assured that I write this to you ina very melancholy mood, for I should have much pleasure in telling it toyou myself. M. De Luxembourg loves and embraces you with all his heart. 

"On receiving the letter I hastened to answer it, reserving to myself morefully to examine the matter, protesting against all disobliginginterpretation, and after having given several days to this examinationwith an inquietude which may easily be conceived, and still without beingable to discover in what I could have erred, what follows was my finalanswer on the subject. 

 "MONTMORENCY, 8th December, 1759. 

"Since my last letter I have examined a hundred times the passage inquestion. I have considered it in its proper and natural meaning, aswell as in every other which may be given to it, and I confess to you, madam, that I know not whether it be I who owe to you excuses, or youfrom whom they are due to me. "

It is now ten years since these letters were written. I have since thattime frequently thought of the subject of them; and such is still mystupidity that I have hitherto been unable to discover what in thepassages, quoted from my letter, she could find offensive, or evendispleasing. 

I must here mention, relative to the manuscript copy of Eloisa Madam deLuxembourg wished to have, in what manner I thought to give it somemarked advantage which should distinguish it from all others. I hadwritten separately the adventures of Lord Edward, and had long beenundetermined whether I should insert them wholly, or in extracts, in thework in which they seemed to be wanting. I at length determined toretrench them entirely, because, not being in the manner of the rest, they would have spoiled the interesting simplicity, which was itsprincipal merit. I had still a stronger reason when I came to know Madamde Luxembourg: There was in these adventures a Roman marchioness, of abad character, some parts of which, without being applicable, might havebeen applied to her by those to whom she was not particularly known. I was therefore, highly pleased with the determination to which I hadcome, and resolved to abide by it. But in the ardent desire to enrichher copy with something which was not in the other, what should I fallupon but these unfortunate adventures, and I concluded on making anextract from them to add to the work; a project dictated by madness, ofwhich the extravagance is inexplicable, except by the blind fatalitywhich led me on to destruction. 

 'Quos vult perdere Jupiter dementet. '

I was stupid enough to make this extract with the greatest care andpains, and to send it her as the finest thing in the world; it is true, I at the same time informed her the original was burned, which was reallythe case, that the extract was for her alone, and would never be seen, except by herself, unless she chose to show it; which, far from proving, to her my prudence and discretion, as it was my intention to do, clearlyintimated what I thought of the application by which she might beoffended. My stupidity was such, that I had no doubt of her beingdelighted with what I had done. She did not make me the compliment uponit which I expected, and, to my great surprise, never once mentioned thepaper I had sent her. I was so satisfied with myself, that it was notuntil a long time afterwards, I judged, from other indications, of theeffect it had produced. 

I had still, in favor of her manuscript, another idea more reasonable, but which, by more distant effects, has not been much less prejudicial tome; so much does everything concur with the work of destiny, when thathurries on a man to misfortune. I thought of ornamenting the manuscriptwith the engravings of the New Eloisa, which were of the same size. Iasked Coindet for these engravings, which belonged to me by every kind oftitle, and the more so as I had given him the produce of the plates, which had a considerable sale. Coindet is as cunning as I am thecontrary. By frequently asking him for the engravings he came to theknowledge of the use I intended to make of them. He then, under pretenceof adding some new ornament, still kept them from me; and at lengthpresented them himself. 

 'Ego versiculos feci, tulit alter honores. '

This gave him an introduction upon a certain footing to the Hotel deLuxembourg. After my establishment at the little castle he came ratherfrequently to see me, and always in the morning, especially when M. AndMadam de Luxembourg were at Montmorency. Therefore that I might pass theday with him, I did not go the castle. Reproaches were made me onaccount of my absence; I told the reason of them. I was desired to bringwith me M. Coindet; I did so. This was, what he had sought after. Therefore, thanks to the excessive goodness M. And Madam de Luxembourghad for me, a clerk to M. Thelusson, who was sometimes pleased to givehim his table when he had nobody else to dine with him, was suddenlyplaced at that of a marechal of France, with princes, duchesses, andpersons of the highest rank at court. I shall never forget, that one daybeing obliged to return early to Paris, the marechal said, after dinner, to the company, "Let us take a walk upon the road to St. Denis, and wewill accompany M. Coindet. " This was too much for the poor man; his headwas quite turned. For my part, my heart was so affected that I could notsay a word. I followed the company, weeping like a child, and having thestrongest desire to kiss the foot of the good marechal; but thecontinuation of the history of the manuscript has made me anticipate. I will go a little back, and, as far as my memory will permit, mark eachevent in its proper order. 

As soon as the little house of Mont Louis was ready, I had it neatlyfurnished and again established myself there. I could not break throughthe resolution I had made on quitting the Hermitage of always having myapartment to myself; but I found a difficulty in resolving to quit thelittle castle. I kept the key of it, and being delighted with thecharming breakfasts of the peristyle, frequently went to the castle tosleep, and stayed three or four days as at a country-house. I was atthat time perhaps better and more agreeably lodged than any privateindividual in Europe. My host, M. Mathas, one of the best men in theworld, had left me the absolute direction of the repairs at Mont Louis, and insisted upon my disposing of his workmen without his interference. I therefore found the means of making of a single chamber upon the firststory, a complete set of apartments consisting of a chamber, antechamber, and a water closet. Upon the ground-floor was the kitchen and thechamber of Theresa. The alcove served me for a closet by means of aglazed partition and a chimney I had made there. After my return to thishabitation, I amused myself in decorating the terrace, which was alreadyshaded by two rows of linden trees; I added two others to make a cabinetof verdure, and placed in it a table and stone benches: I surrounded itwith lilies, syringa and woodbines, and had a beautiful border of flowersparallel with the two rows of trees. This terrace, more elevated thanthat of the castle, from which the view was at least as fine, and where Ihad tamed a great number of birds, was my drawing-room, in which Ireceived M. And Madam de Luxembourg, the Duke of Villeroy, the Prince ofTingry, the Marquis of Armentieres, the Duchess of Montmorency, theDuchess of Bouffiers, the Countess of Valentinois, the Countess ofBoufflers, and other persons of the first rank; who, from the castledisdained not to make, over a very fatiguing mountain, the pilgrimage ofMont Louis. I owed all these visits to the favor of M. And Madam deLuxembourg; this I felt, and my heart on that account did them all duehomage. It was with the same sentiment that I once said to M. DeLuxembourg, embracing him: "Ah! Monsieur le Marechal, I hated the greatbefore I knew you, and I have hated them still more since you have shownme with what ease they might acquire universal respect. " Further thanthis I defy any person with whom I was then acquainted, to say I was everdazzled for an instant with splendor, or that the vapor of the incense Ireceived ever affected my head; that I was less uniform in my manner, less plain in my dress, less easy of access to people of the lowest rank, less familiar with neighbors, or less ready to render service to everyperson when I had it in my power so to do, without ever once beingdiscouraged by the numerous and frequently unreasonable importunitieswith which I was incessantly assailed. 

Although my heart led me to the castle of Montmorency, by my sincereattachment to those by whom it was inhabited, it by the same means drewme back to the neighborhood of it, there to taste the sweets of the equaland simple life, in which my only happiness consisted. Theresa hadcontracted a friendship with the daughter of one of my neighbors, a masonof the name of Pilleu; I did the same with the father, and after havingdined at the castle, not without some constraint, to please Madam deLuxembourg, with what eagerness did I return in the evening to sup withthe good man Pilleu and his family, sometimes at his own house and atothers, at mine. 

Besides my two lodgings in the country, I soon had a third at the Hotelde Luxembourg, the proprietors of which pressed me so much to go and seethem there, that I consented, notwithstanding my aversion to Paris, where, since my retiring to the Hermitage, I had been but twice, upon thetwo occasions of which I have spoken. I did not now go there except onthe days agreed upon, solely to supper, and the next morning I returnedto the country. I entered and came out by the garden which faces theboulevard, so that I could with the greatest truth, say I had not set myfoot upon the stones of Paris. 

In the midst of this transient prosperity, a catastrophe, which was to bethe conclusion of it, was preparing at a distance. A short time after myreturn to Mont Louis, I made there, and as it was customary, against myinclination, a new acquaintance, which makes another era in my privatehistory. Whether this be favorable or unfavorable, the reader willhereafter be able to judge. The person with whom I became acquainted wasthe Marchioness of Verdelin, my neighbor, whose husband had just boughta country-house at Soisy, near Montmorency. Mademoiselle d'Ars, daughterto the Comte d'Ars, a man of fashion, but poor, had married M. DeVerdelin, old, ugly, deaf, uncouth, brutal, jealous, with gashes in hisface, and blind of one eye, but, upon the whole, a good man when properlymanaged, and in possession of a fortune of from fifteen to twentythousand a year. This charming object, swearing, roaring, scolding, storming, and making his wife cry all day long, ended by doing whatevershe thought proper, and this to set her in a rage, because she knew howto persuade him that it was he who would, and she would not have it so. M. De Margency, of whom I have spoken, was the friend of madam, andbecame that of monsieur. He had a few years before let them his castleof Margency, near Eaubonne and Andilly, and they resided there preciselyat the time of my passion for Madam d'Houdetot. Madam d'Houdetot andMadam de Verdelin became acquainted with each other, by means of Madamd'Aubeterre their common friend; and as the garden of Margency was in theroad by which Madam d'Houdetot went to Mont Olympe, her favorite walk, Madam de Verdelin gave her a key that she might pass through it. Bymeans of this key I crossed it several times with her; but I did not likeunexpected meetings, and when Madam de Verdelin was by chance upon ourway I left them together without speaking to her, and went on before. This want of gallantry must have made on her an impression unfavorable tome. Yet when she was at Soisy she was anxious to have my company. Shecame several times to see me at Mont Louis, without finding me at home, and perceiving I did not return her visit, took it into her head, as ameans of forcing me to do it, to send me pots of flowers for my terrace. I was under the necessity of going to thank her; this was all she wanted, and we thus became acquainted. 

This connection, like every other I formed; or was led into contrary tomy inclination, began rather boisterously. There never reigned in it areal calm. The turn of mind of Madam de Verdelinwas too opposite tomine. Malignant expressions and pointed sarcasms came from her with somuch simplicity, that a continual attention too fatiguing for me wasnecessary to perceive she was turning into ridicule the person to whomshe spoke. One trivial circumstance which occurs to my recollection willbe sufficient to give an idea of her manner. Her brother had justobtained the command of a frigate cruising against the English. I spokeof the manner of fitting out this frigate without diminishing itsswiftness of sailing. "Yes, " replied she, in the most natural tone ofvoice, "no more cannon are taken than are necessary for fighting. "I seldom have heard her speak well of any of her absent friends withoutletting slip something to their prejudice. What she did not see with anevil eye she looked upon with one of ridicule, and her friend Margencywas not excepted. What I found most insupportable in her was theperpetual constraint proceeding from her little messages, presents andbillets, to which it was a labor for me to answer, and I had continualembarrassments either in thanking or refusing. However, by frequentlyseeing this lady I became attached to her. She had her troubles as wellas I had mine. Reciprocal confidence rendered our conversationsinteresting. Nothing so cordially attaches two persons as thesatisfaction of weeping together. We sought the company of each otherfor our reciprocal consolation, and the want of this has frequently mademe pass over many things. I had been so severe in my frankness with her, that after having sometimes shown so little esteem for her character, agreat deal was necessary to be able to believe she could sincerelyforgive me. 

The following letter is a specimen of the epistles I sometimes wrote toher, and it is to be remarked that she never once in any of her answersto them seemed to be in the least degree piqued. 

 MONTMORENCY, 5th November, 1760. 

"You tell me, madam, you have not well explained yourself, in order tomake me understand I have explained myself ill. You speak of yourpretended stupidity for the purpose of making me feel my own. You boastof being nothing more than a good kind of woman, as if you were afraid tobeing taken at your word, and you make me apologies to tell me I owe themto you. Yes, madam, I know it; it is I who am a fool, a good kind ofman; and, if it be possible, worse than all this; it is I who make a badchoice of my expressions in the opinion of a fine French lady, who paysas much attention to words, and speak as well as you do. But considerthat I take them in the common meaning of the language without knowing ortroubling my head about the polite acceptations in which they are takenin the virtuous societies of Paris. If my expressions are sometimesequivocal, I endeavored by my conduct to determine their meaning, " etc. The rest of the letter is much the same. 

Coindet, enterprising, bold, even to effrontery, and who was upon thewatch after all my friends, soon introduced himself in my name to thehouse of Madam de Verdelin, and, unknown to me, shortly became there morefamiliar than myself. This Coindet was an extraordinary man. Hepresented himself in my name in the houses of all my acquaintance, gaineda footing in them, and eat there without ceremony. Transported with zealto do me service, he never mentioned my name without his eyes beingsuffused with tears; but, when he came to see me, he kept the mostprofound silence on the subject of all these connections, and especiallyon that in which he knew I must be interested. Instead of telling mewhat he had heard, said, or seen, relative to my affairs, he waited formy speaking to him, and even interrogated me. He never knew anything ofwhat passed in Paris, except that which I told him: finally, althougheverybody spoke to me of him, he never once spoke to me of any person; hewas secret and mysterious with his friend only; but I will for thepresent leave Coindet and Madam de Verdelin, and return to them at aproper time. 

Sometime after my return to Mont Louis, La Tour, the painter, came to seeme, and brought with him my portrait in crayons, which a few years beforehe had exhibited at the salon. He wished to give me this portrait, whichI did not choose to accept. But Madam d'Epinay, who had given me hers, and would have had this, prevailed upon me to ask him for it. He hadtaken some time to retouch the features. In the interval happened myrupture with Madam d'Epinay; I returned her her portrait; and giving hermine being no longer in question, I put it into my chamber, in thecastle. M. De Luxembourg saw it there, and found it a good one; Ioffered it him, he accepted it, and I sent it to the castle. He and hislady comprehended I should be very glad to have theirs. They had themtaken in miniature by a very skilful hand, set in a box of rock crystal, mounted with gold, and in a very handsome manner, with which I wasdelighted, made me a present of both. Madam de Luxenbourg would neverconsent that her portrait should be on the upper part of the box. Shehad reproached me several times with loving M. De Luxembourg better thanI did her; I had not denied it because it was true. By this manner ofplacing her portrait she showed very politely, but very clearly, she hadnot forgotten the preference. 

Much about this time I was guilty of a folly which did not contribute topreserve me to her good graces. Although I had no knowledge of M. DeSilhoutte, and was not much disposed to like him, I had a great opinionof his administration. When he began to let his hand fall rather heavilyupon financiers, I perceived he did not begin his operation in afavorable moment, but he had my warmest wishes for his success; and assoon as I heard he was displaced I wrote to him, in my intrepid, heedlessmanner, the following letter, which I certainly do not undertake tojustify. 

 MONTMORENCY, 2d December, 1759. 

"Vouchsafe, sir, to receive the homage of a solitary man, who is notknown to you, but who esteems you for your talents, respects you for youradministration, and who did you the honor to believe you would not longremain in it. Unable to save the State, except at the expense of thecapital by which it has been ruined, you have braved the clamors of thegainers of money. When I saw you crush these wretches, I envied you yourplace; and at seeing you quit it without departing from your system, I admire you. Be satisfied with yourself, sir; the step you have takenwill leave you an honor you will long enjoy without a competitor. Themalediction of knaves is the glory of an honest man. "

Madam de Luxembourg, who knew I had written this letter, spoke to me ofit when she came into the country at Easter. I showed it to her and shewas desirous of a copy; this I gave her, but when I did it I did not knowshe was interested in under-farms, and the displacing of M. De Silhoutte. By my numerous follies any person would have imagined I wilfullyendeavored to bring on myself the hatred of an amiable woman who hadpower, and to whom, in truth, I daily became more attached, and was farfrom wishing to occasion her displeasure, although by my awkward mannerof proceeding, I did everything proper for that purpose. I think itsuperfluous to remark here, that it is to her the history of the opiateof M. Tronchin, of which I have spoken in the first part of my memoirs, relates; the other lady was Madam de Mirepoix. They have never mentionedto me the circumstance, nor has either of them, in the least, seemed tohave preserved a remembrance of it; but to presume that Madam deLuxembourg can possibly have forgotten it appears to me very difficult, and would still remain so, even were the subsequent events entirelyunknown. For my part, I fell into a deceitful security relative to theeffects of my stupid mistakes, by an internal evidence of my not havingtaken any step with an intention to offend; as if a woman could everforgive what I had done, although she might be certain the will had notthe least part in the matter. 

Although she seemed not to see or feel anything, and that I did notimmediately find either her warmth of friendship diminished or the leastchange in her manner, the continuation and even increase of a too wellfounded foreboding made me incessantly tremble, lest disgust shouldsucceed to infatuation. Was it possible for me to expect in a lady ofsuch high rank, a constancy proof against my want of address to supportit? I was unable to conceal from her this secret foreboding, which mademe uneasy, and rendered me still more disagreeable. This will be judgedof by the following letter, which contains a very singular prediction. 

N. B. This letter, without date in my rough copy, was written inOctober, 1760, at latest. 

"How cruel is your goodness? Why disturb the peace of a solitary mortalwho had renounced the pleasures of life, that he might no longer sufferthe fatigues of them. I have passed my days in vainly searching forsolid attachments. I have not been able to form any in the ranks towhich I was equal; is it in yours that I ought to seek for them? Neitherambition nor interest can tempt me: I am not vain, but little fearful; Ican resist everything except caresses. Why do you both attack me by aweakness which I must overcome, because in the distance by which we areseparated, the over-flowings of susceptible hearts cannot bring mine nearto you? Will gratitude be sufficient for a heart which knows not twomanners of bestowing its affections, and feels itself incapable ofeverything except friendship? Of friendship, madam la marechale! Ah!there is my misfortune! It is good in you and the marechal to make useof this expression; but I am mad when I take you at your word. You amuseyourselves, and I become attached; and the end of this prepares for menew regrets. How I do hate all your titles, and pity you on account ofyour being obliged to bear them? You seem to me to be so worthy oftasting the charms of private life! Why do not you reside at Clarens?I would go there in search of happiness; but the castle of Montmorency, and the Hotel de Luxembourg! Is it in these places Jean Jacques ought tobe seen? Is it there a friend to equality ought to carry the affectionsof a sensible heart, and who thus paying the esteem in which he is held, thinks he returns as much as he receives? You are good and susceptiblealso: this I know and have seen; I am sorry I was not sooner convinced ofit; but in the rank you hold, in the manner of living, nothing can make alasting impression; a succession of new objects efface each other so thatnot one of them remains. You will forget me, madam, after having made itimpossible for me to imitate, you. You have done a great deal to make meunhappy, to be inexcusable. "

I joined with her the marechal, to render the compliment less severe; forI was moreover so sure of him, that I never had a doubt in my mind of thecontinuation of his friendship. Nothing that intimidated me in madam lamarechale, ever for a moment extended to him. I never have had the leastmistrust relative to his character, which I knew to be feeble, butconstant. I no more feared a coldness on his part than I expected fromhim an heroic attachment. The simplicity and familiarity of our mannerswith each other proved how far dependence was reciprocal. We were bothalways right: I shall ever honor and hold dear the memory of this worthyman, and, notwithstanding everything that was done to detach him from me, I am as certain of his having died my friend as if I had been present inhis last moments. 

At the second journey to Montmorency, in the year 1760, the reading ofEloisa being finished, I had recourse to that of Emilius, to supportmyself in the good graces of Madam de Luxembourg; but this, whether thesubject was less to her taste; or that so much reading at length fatiguedher, did not succeed so well. However, as she reproached me withsuffering myself to be the dupe of booksellers, she wished me to leave toher care the printing the work, that I might reap from it a greateradvantage. I consented to her doing it, on the express condition of itsnot being printed in France, on which we had along dispute; I affirmingthat it was impossible to obtain, and even imprudent to solicit, a tacitpermission; and being unwilling to permit the impression upon any otherterms in the kingdom; she, that the censor could not make the leastdifficulty, according to the system government had adopted. She foundmeans to make M. De Malesherbes enter into her views. He wrote to me onthe subject a long letter with his own hand, to prove the profession offaith of the Savoyard vicar to be a composition which must everywheregain the approbation of its readers and that of the court, as things werethen circumstanced. I was surprised to see this magistrate, always soprudent, become so smooth in the business, as the printing of a book wasby that alone legal, I had no longer any objection to make to that of thework. Yet, by an extraordinary scruple, I still required it should beprinted in Holland, and by the bookseller Neaulme, whom, not satisfiedwith indicating him, I informed of my wishes, consenting the editionshould be brought out for the profit of a French bookseller, and that assoon as it was ready it should be sold at Paris, or wherever else itmight be thought proper, as with this I had no manner of concern. Thisis exactly what was agreed upon between Madam de Luxembourg and myself, after which I gave her my manuscript. 

Madam de Luxembourg was this time accompanied by her granddaughterMademoiselle de Boufflers, now Duchess of Lauzun. Her name was Amelia. She was a charming girl. She really had a maiden beauty, mildness andtimidity. Nothing could be more lovely than her person, nothing morechaste and tender than the sentiments she inspired. She was, besides, still a child under eleven years of age. Madam de Luxembourg, whothought her too timid, used every endeavor to animate her. She permittedme several times to give her a kiss, which I did with my usualawkwardness. Instead of saying flattering things to her, as any otherperson would have done, I remained silent and disconcerted, and I knownot which of the two, the little girl or myself, was most ashamed. 

I met her one day alone in the staircase of the little castle. She hadbeen to see Theresa, with whom her governess still was. Not knowing whatelse to say, I proposed to her a kiss, which, in the innocence of herheart, she did not refuse; having in the morning received one from me byorder of her grandmother, and in her presence. The next day, whilereading Emilius by the side of the bed of Madam de Luxembourg, I came toa passage in which I justly censure that which I had done the precedingevening. She thought the reflection extremely just, and said some verysensible things upon the subject which made me blush. How was I enragedat my incredible stupidity, which has frequently given me the appearanceof guilt when I was nothing more than a fool and embarrassed!A stupidity, which in a man known to be endowed with some wit, isconsidered as a false excuse. I can safely swear that in this kiss, aswell as in the others, the heart and thoughts of Mademoiselle Amelia werenot more pure than my own, and that if I could have avoided meeting her Ishould have done it; not that I had not great pleasure in seeing her, butfrom the embarrassment of not finding a word proper to say. Whence comesit that even a child can intimidate a man, whom the power of kings hasnever inspired with fear? What is to be done? How, without presence ofmind, am I to act? If I strive to speak to the persons I meet, I certainly say some stupid thing to them; if I remain silent, I am amisanthrope, an unsociable animal, a bear. Total imbecility would havebeen more favorable to me; but the talents which I have failed to improvein the world have become the instruments of my destruction, and of thatof the talents I possessed. 

At the latter end of this journey, Madam de Luxembourg did a good actionin which I had some share. Diderot having very imprudently offended thePrincess of Robeck, daughter of M. De Luxembourg, Palissot, whom sheprotected, took up the quarrel, and revenged her by the comedy of 'ThePhilosophers', in which I was ridiculed, and Diderot very roughlyhandled. The author treated me with more gentleness, less, I am ofopinion, on account of the obligation he was under to me, than from thefear of displeasing the father of his protectress, by whom he knew I wasbeloved. The bookseller Duchesne, with whom I was not at that timeacquainted, sent me the comedy when it was printed, and this I suspectwas by the order of Palissot, who, perhaps, thought I should have apleasure in seeing a man with whom I was no longer connected defamed. He was greatly deceived. When I broke with Diderot, whom I thought lessill-natured than weak and indiscreet, I still always preserved for hisperson an attachment, an esteem even, and a respect for our ancientfriendship, which I know was for a long time as sincere on his part as onmine. The case was quite different with Grimm; a man false by nature, who never loved me, who is not even capable of friendship, and a personwho, without the least subject of complaint, and solely to satisfy hisgloomy jealousy, became, under the mask of friendship, my most cruelcalumniator. This man is to me a cipher; the other will always be my oldfriend. 

My very bowels yearned at the sight of this odious piece: the reading ofit was insupportable to me, and, without going through the whole, Ireturned the copy to Duchesne with the following letter:

 MONTMORENCY, 21st, May, 1760. 

"In casting my eyes over the piece you sent me, I trembled at seeingmyself well spoken of in it. I do not accept the horrid present. I ampersuaded that in sending it me, you did not intend an insult; but you donot know, or have forgotten, that I have the honor to be the friend of arespectable man, who is shamefully defamed and calumniated in thislibel. "

Duchense showed the letter. Diderot, upon whom it ought to have had aneffect quite contrary, was vexed at it. His pride could not forgive methe superiority of a generous action, and I was informed his wifeeverywhere inveighed against me with a bitterness with which I was not inthe least affected, as I knew she was known to everybody to be a noisybabbler. 

Diderot in his turn found an avenger in the Abbe Morrellet, who wroteagainst Palissot a little work, imitated from the 'Petit Prophete', and entitled the Vision. In this production he very imprudently offendedMadam de Robeck, whose friends got him sent to the Bastile; though she, not naturally vindictive, and at that time in a dying state, I am certainhad nothing to do with the affair. 

D'Alembert, who was very intimately connected with Morrellet, wrote me aletter, desiring I would beg of Madam de Luxembourg to solicit hisliberty, promising her in return encomiums in the 'Encyclopedie';my answer to this letter was as follows:

"I did not wait the receipt of your letter before I expressed to Madam deLuxembourg the pain the confinement of the Abbe Morrellet gave me. Sheknows my concern, and shall be made acquainted with yours, and herknowing that the abbe is a man of merit will be sufficient to make herinterest herself in his behalf. However, although she and the marechalhonor me with a benevolence which is my greatest consolation, and thatthe name of your friend be to them a recommendation in favor of the AbbeMorrellet, I know not how far, on this occasion, it may be proper forthem to employ the credit attached to the rank they hold, and theconsideration due to their persons. I am not even convinced that thevengeance in question relates to the Princess Robeck so much as you seemto imagine; and were this even the case, we must not suppose that thepleasure of vengeance belongs to philosophers exclusively, and that whenthey choose to become women, women will become philosophers. 

"I will communicate to you whatever Madam de Luxembourg may say to meafter having shown her your letter. In the meantime, I think I know herwell enough to assure you that, should she have the pleasure ofcontributing to the enlargement of the Abbe Morrellet, she will notaccept the tribute of acknowledgment you promise her in the Encyclopedie, although she might think herself honored by it, because she does not dogood in the expectation of praise, but from the dictates of her heart. "

I made every effort to excite the zeal and commiseration of Madam deLuxembourg in favor of the poor captive, and succeeded to my wishes. She went to Versailles on purpose to speak to M. De St. Florentin, andthis journey shortened the residence at Montmorency, which the marechalwas obliged to quit at the same time to go to Rouen, whither the kingsent him as governor of Normandy, on account of the motions of theparliament, which government wished to keep within bounds. Madam deLuxembourg wrote me the following letter the day after her departure:

 VERSAILLES, Wednesday. 

"M. De Luxembourg set off yesterday morning at six o'clock. I do not yetknow that I shall follow him. I wait until he writes to me, as he is notyet certain of the stay it will be necessary for him to make. I haveseen M. De St. Florentin, who is as favorably disposed as possibletowards the Abbe Morrellet; but he finds some obstacles to his wisheswhich however, he is in hopes of removing the first time he has to dobusiness with the king, which will be next week. I have also desired asa favor that he might not be exiled, because this was intended; he was tobe sent to Nancy. This, sir, is what I have been able to obtain; but Ipromise you I will not let M. De St. Florentin rest until the affair isterminated in the manner you desire. Let me now express to you how sorryI am on account of my being obliged to leave you so soon, of which Iflatter myself you have not the least doubt. I love you with all myheart, and shall do so for my whole life. "

A few days afterwards I received the following note from D'Alembert, which gave me real joy. 

 August 1st. 

"Thanks to your cares, my dear philosopher, the abbe has left theBastile, and his imprisonment will have no other consequence. He issetting off for the country, and, as well as myself, returns you athousand thanks and compliments. 'Vale et me ama'. "

The abbe also wrote to me a few days afterwards a letter of thanks, whichdid not, in my opinion, seem to breathe a certain effusion of the heart, and in which he seemed in some measure to extenuate the service I hadrendered him. Some time afterwards, I found that he and D'Alembert had, to a certain degree, I will not say supplanted, but succeeded me in thegood graces of Madam de Luxembourg, and that I Had lost in them all theyhad gained. However, I am far from suspecting the Abbe Morrellet ofhaving contributed to my disgrace; I have too much esteem for him toharbor any such suspicion. With respect to D'Alembert, I shall atpresent leave him out of the question, and hereafter say of him what mayseem necessary. 

I had, at the same time, another affair which occasioned the last letterI wrote to Voltaire; a letter against which he vehemently exclaimed, asan abominable insult, although he never showed it to any person. I willhere supply the want of that which he refused to do. 

The Abbe Trublet, with whom I had a slight acquaintance, but whom I hadbut seldom seen, wrote to me on the 13th of June, 1760, informing me thatM. Formey, his friend and correspondent, had printed in his journal myletter to Voltaire upon the disaster at Lisbon. The abbe wished to knowhow the letter came to be printed, and in his jesuitical manner, asked memy opinion, without giving me his own on the necessity of reprinting it. As I most sovereignly hate this kind of artifice and strategem, Ireturned such thanks as were proper, but in a manner so reserved as tomake him feel it, although this did not prevent him from wheedling me intwo or three other letters until he had gathered all he wished to know. 

I clearly understood that, not withstanding all Trublet could say, Formeyhad not found the letter printed, and that the first impression of itcame from himself. I knew him to be an impudent pilferer, who, withoutceremony, made himself a revenue by the works of others. Although he hadnot yet had the incredible effrontery to take from a book alreadypublished the name of the author, to put his own in the place of it, andto sell the book for his own profit. 

 [In this manner he afterwards appropriated to himself Emilius. ]

But by what means had this manuscript fallen into his hands? That was aquestion not easy to resolve, but by which I had the weakness to beembarrassed. Although Voltaire was excessively honored by the letter, as in fact, notwithstanding his rude proceedings, he would have had aright to complain had I had it printed without his consent, I resolved towrite to him upon the subject. The second letter was as follows, towhich he returned no answer, and giving greater scope to his brutality, he feigned to be irritated to fury. 

 MONTMORENCY, 17th June, 1760. 

"I did not think, sir, I should ever have occasion to correspond withyou. But learning the letter I wrote to you in 1756 had been printed atBerlin, I owe you an account of my conduct in that respect, and willfulfil this duty with truth and simplicity. 

"The letter having really been addressed to you was not intended to beprinted. I communicated the contents of it, on certain conditions, tothree persons, to whom the right of friendship did not permit me torefuse anything of the kind, and whom the same rights still lesspermitted to abuse my confidence by betraying their promise. Thesepersons are Madam de Chenonceaux, daughter-in-law to Madam Dupin, theComtesse d'Houdetot, and a German of the name of Grimm. Madam deChenonceaux was desirous the letter should be printed, and asked myconsent. I told her that depended upon yours. This was asked of youwhich you refused, and the matter dropped. 

"However, the Abbe Trublet, with whom I have not the least connection, has just written to me from a motive of the most polite attention thathaving received the papers of the journal of M. Formey, he found in themthis same letter with an advertisement, dated on the 23d of October, 1759, in which the editor states that he had a few weeks before found itin the shops of the booksellers of Berlin, and, as it is one of thoseloose sheets which shortly disappear, he thought proper to give it aplace in his journal. 

"This, sir, is all I know of the matter. It is certain the letter hadnot until lately been heard of at Paris. It is also as certain that thecopy, either in manuscript or print, fallen into the hands of M. DeFormey, could never have reached them except by your means (which is notprobable) or of those of one of the three persons I have mentioned. Finally, it is well known the two ladies are incapable of such a perfidy. I cannot, in my retirement learn more relative to the affair. You have acorrespondence by means of which you may, if you think it worth thetrouble, go back to the source and verify the fact. 

"In the same letter the Abbe' Trublet informs me that he keeps the paperin reserve, and will not lend it without my consent, which most assuredlyI will not give. But it is possible this copy may not be the only one inParis. I wish, sir, the letter may not be printed there, and I will doall in my power to prevent this from happening; but if I cannot succeed, and that, timely perceiving it, I can have the preference, I will notthen hesitate to have it immediately printed. This to me appears justand natural. 

"With respect to your answer to the same letter, it has not beencommunicated to anyone, and you may be assured it shall not be printedwithout your consent, which I certainly shall not be indiscreet enough toask of you, well knowing that what one man writes to another is notwritten to the public. But should you choose to write one you wish tohave published, and address it to me, I promise you faithfully to add toit my letter and not to make to it a single word of reply. 

"I love you not, sir; you have done me, your disciple and enthusiasticadmirer; injuries which might have caused me the most exquisite pain. You have ruined Geneva, in return for the asylum it has afforded you;you have alienated from me my fellow-citizens, in return for eulogiums Imade of you amongst them; it is you who render to me the residence of myown country insupportable; it is you who will oblige me to die in aforeign land, deprived of all the consolations usually administered to adying person; and cause me, instead of receiving funeral rites, to bethrown to the dogs, whilst all the honors a man can expect will accompanyyou in my country. Finally I hate you because you have been desirous Ishould but I hate you as a man more worthy of loving you had you chosenit. Of all the sentiments with which my heart was penetrated for you, admiration, which cannot be refused your fine genius, and a partiality toyour writings, are those you have not effaced. If I can honor nothing inyou except your talents, the fault is not mine. I shall never be wantingin the respect due to them, nor in that which this respect requires. "

In the midst of these little literary cavillings, which still fortifiedmy resolution, I received the greatest honor letters ever acquired me, and of which I was the most sensible, in the two visits the Prince ofConti deigned to make to me, one at the Little Castle and the other atMont Louis. He chose the time for both of these when M. De Luxembourgwas not at Montmorency, in order to render it more manifest that he camethere solely on my account. I have never had a doubt of my owing thefirst condescensions of this prince to Madam de Luxembourg and Madam deBoufflers; but I am of opinion I owe to his own sentiments and to myselfthose with which he has since that time continually honored me. 

 [Remark the perseverance of this blind and stupid confidence in the midst of all the treatment which should soonest have undeceived me. It continued until my return to Paris in 1770. ]

My apartments at Mont Louis being small, and the situation of the alcovecharming, I conducted the prince to it, where, to complete thecondescension he was pleased to show me, he chose I should have the honorof playing with him a game of chess. I knew he beat the Chevalier deLorenzy, who played better than I did. However, notwithstanding thesigns and grimace of the chevalier and the spectators, which I feignednot to see, I won the two games we played: When they were ended, I saidto him in a respectful but very grave manner: "My lord, I honor yourserene highness too much not to beat you always at chess. " This greatprince, who had real wit, sense, and knowledge, and so was worthy not tobe treated with mean adulation, felt in fact, at least I think so, that Iwas the only person present who treated him like a man, and I have everyreason to believe he was not displeased with me for it. 

Had this even been the case, I should not have reproached myself withhaving been unwilling to deceive him in anything, and I certainly cannotdo it with having in my heart made an ill return for his goodness, butsolely with having sometimes done it with an ill grace, whilst he himselfaccompanied with infinite gracefulness the manner in which he showed methe marks of it. A few days afterwards he ordered a hamper of game to besent me, which I received as I ought. This in a little time wassucceeded by another, and one of his gamekeepers wrote me, by order ofhis highness, that the game it contained had been shot by the princehimself. I received this second hamper, but I wrote to Madam deBoufflers that I would not receive a third. This letter was generallyblamed, and deservedly so. Refusing to accept presents of game from aprince of the blood, who moreover sends it in so polite a manner, is lessthe delicacy of a haughty man, who wishes to preserve his independence, than the rusticity of a clown, who does not know himself. I have neverread this letter in my collection without blushing and reproaching myselffor having written it. But I have not undertaken my Confession with anintention of concealing my faults, and that of which I have just spokenis too shocking in my own eyes to suffer me to pass it over in silence. 

If I were not guilty of the offence of becoming his rival I was very neardoing it; for Madam de Boufflers was still his mistress, and I knewnothing of the matter. She came rather frequently to see me with theChevalier de Lorenzy. She was yet young and beautiful, affected to bewhimsical, and my mind was always romantic, which was much of the samenature. I was near being laid hold of; I believe she perceived it; thechevalier saw it also, at least he spoke to me upon the subject, and in amanner not discouraging. But I was this time reasonable, and at the ageof fifty it was time I should be so. Full of the doctrine I had justpreached to graybeards in my letter to D'Alembert, I should have beenashamed of not profiting by it myself; besides, coming to the knowledgeof that of which I had been ignorant, I must have been mad to havecarried my pretensions so far as to expose myself to such an illustriousrivalry. Finally, ill cured perhaps of my passion for Madam de Houdetot, I felt nothing could replace it in my heart, and I bade adieu to love forthe rest of my life. I have this moment just withstood the dangerousallurements of a young woman who had her views; and if she feigned toforget my twelve lustres I remember them. After having thus withdrawnmyself from danger, I am no longer afraid of a fall, and I answer formyself for the rest of my days. 

Madam de Boufflers, perceiving the emotion she caused in me, might alsoobserve I had triumphed over it. I am neither mad nor vain enough tobelieve I was at my age capable of inspiring her with the same feelings;but, from certain words which she let drop to Theresa, I thought I hadinspired her with a curiosity; if this be the case, and that she has notforgiven me the disappointment she met with, it must be confessed I wasborn to be the victim of my weaknesses, since triumphant love was soprejudicial to me, and love triumphed over not less so. 

Here finishes the collection of letters which has served me as a guide inthe last two books. My steps will in future be directed by memory only;but this is of such a nature, relative to the period to which I am nowcome, and the strong impression of objects has remained so perfectly uponmy mind, that lost in the immense sea of my misfortunes, I cannot forgetthe detail of my first shipwreck, although the consequences present to mebut a confused remembrance. I therefore shall be able to proceed in thesucceeding book with sufficient confidence. If I go further it will begroping in the dark.