I heard many things of the same kind; but an observation which I was surprised not to have made sooner, struck me more than everything else.I had given to Grimm all my friends without exception, they were become his.I was so inseparable from him, that I should have had some difficulty in continuing to visit at a house where he was not received.Madam de Crequi was the only person who refused to admit him into her company, and whom for that reason I have seldom since seen.
Grimm on his part made himself other friends, as well by his own means, as by those of the Comte de Friese.Of all these not one of them ever became my friend: he never said a word to induce me even to become acquainted with them, and not one of those I sometimes met at his apartments ever showed me the least good will; the Comte de Friese, in whose house he lived, and with whom it consequently would have been agreeable to me to form some connection, not excepted, nor the Comte de Schomberg, his relation, with whom Grimm was still more intimate.
Add to this, my own friends, whom I made his, and who were all tenderly attached to me before this acquaintance, were no longer so the moment it was made.He never gave me one of his; I gave him all mine, and these he has taken from me.If these be the effects of friendship, what are those of enmity?
Diderot himself told me several times at the beginning that Grimm in whom I had so much confidence, was not my friend.He changed his language the moment he was no longer so himself.
The manner in which I had disposed of my children wanted not the concurrence of any person.Yet I informed some of my friends of it, solely to make it known to them, and that I might not in their eyes appear better than I was.These friends were three in number: Diderot, Grimm, and Madam d'Epinay.Duclos, the most worthy of my confidence, was the only real friend whom I did not inform of it.He nevertheless knew what I had done.By whom? This I know not.It is not very probable the perfidy came from Madam d'Epinay, who knew that by following her example, had I been capable of doing it, I had in my power the means of a cruel revenge.It remains therefore between Grimm and Diderot, then so much united, especially against me, and it is probable this crime was common to them both.I would lay a wager that Duclos, to whom I never told my secret, and who consequently was at liberty to make what use he pleased of his information, is the only person who has not spoken of it again.
Grimm and Diderot, in their project to take from me the governesses, had used the greatest efforts to make Duclos enter into their views;but this he refused to do with disdain.It was not until some time afterwards that I learned from him what had passed between them on the subject; but I learned at the time from Theresa enough to perceive there was some secret design, and that they wished to dispose of me, if not against my own consent, at least without my knowledge, or had an intention of making these two persons serve as instruments of some project they had in view.This was far from upright conduct.
The opposition of Duclos is a convincing proof of it.They who think proper may believe it to be friendship.
This pretended friendship was as fatal to me at home as it was abroad.The long and frequent conversations with Madam le Vasseur, for several years past, had made a sensible change in this woman's behavior to me, and the change was far from being in my favor.What was the subject of these singular conversations? Why such a profound mystery? Was the conversation of that old woman agreeable enough to take her into favor, and of sufficient importance to make of it so great a secret? During the two or three years these colloquies had, from time to time, been continued, they had appeared to me ridiculous;but when I thought of them again, they began to astonish me.This astonishment would have been carried to inquietude had I then known what the old creature was preparing for me.
Notwithstanding the pretended zeal for my welfare of which Grimm made such a public boast, difficult to reconcile with the airs he gave himself when we were together, I heard nothing of him from any quarter the least to my advantage, and his feigned commiseration tended less to do me service than to render me contemptible.He deprived me as much as he possibly could of the resource I found in the employment I had chosen, by decrying me as a bad copyist.I confess he spoke the truth; but in this case it was not for him to do it.He proved himself in earnest by employing another copyist, and prevailing upon everybody he could, by whom I was engaged, to do the same.His intention might have been supposed to be that of reducing me to a dependence upon him and his credit for a subsistence, and to cut off the latter until I was brought to that degree of distress.
All things considered, my reason imposed silence upon my former prejudice, which still pleaded in his favor.I judged his character to be at least suspicious, and with respect to his friendship Ipositively decided it to be false.I then resolved to see him no more, and informed Madam d'Epinay of the resolution I had taken, supporting it with several unanswerable facts, but which I have now forgotten.
