I had also for a neighbor in the same village of St.Brice, the bookseller Guerin, a man of wit, learning, of an amiable disposition, and one of the first in his profession.He brought me acquainted with Jean Neaulme, bookseller of Amsterdam, his friend and correspondent, who afterwards printed Emile.
I had another acquaintance still nearer than St.Brice, this was M.Maltor, vicar of Groslay, a man better adapted for the functions of a statesman and a minister, than for those of the vicar of a village, and to whom a diocese at least would have been given to govern if talents decided the disposal of places.He had been secretary to the Comte du Luc, and was formerly intimately acquainted with Jean-Baptiste Rousseau.Holding in as much esteem the memory of that illustrious exile, as he held the villain who ruined him in horror; he possessed curious anecdotes of both, which Seguy had not inserted in the life, still in manuscript, of the former, and he assured me that the Comte du Luc, far from ever having had reason to complain of his conduct, had until his last moment preserved for him the warmest friendship.M.Maltor, to whom M.
de Vintimille gave this retreat after the death of his patron, had formerly been employed in many affairs of which, although far advanced in years, he still preserved a distinct remembrance, and reasoned upon them tolerably well.His conversation, equally amusing and instructive, had nothing in it resembling that of a village pastor: he joined the manners of a man of the world to the knowledge of one who passes his life in study.He, of all my permanent neighbors, was the person whose society was 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; to whom, notwithstanding some little tincture of pedantry, I become attached on account of a certain air of cordial good nature which I observed in him.I had, however, some difficulty to reconcile this great simplicity with the desire and the art he had of everywhere thrusting himself into the company of the great, as well as that of the women, devotees, and philosophers.He knew how to accommodate himself to every one.I was greatly pleased with the man, and spoke of my satisfaction to all my other acquaintances.
Apparently what I said of him came to his ear.He one day thanked me for having thought him a good-natured man.I observed something in his forced smile which, in my eyes, totally changed his physiognomy, and which has since frequently occurred to my mind.I cannot better compare this smile than to that of Panurge purchasing the Sheep of Dindenaut.Our acquaintance had begun a little time after my arrival at the Hermitage, to which place he frequently came to see me.I was already settled at Montmorency when he left it to go and reside at Paris.He often saw Madam le Vasseur there.One day, when I least expected 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 permission to accept the offer.This I understood consisted in a pension of three hundred livres, and that Madam le Vasseur was to come and live at Deuil, between the Chevrette and Montmorency.I will not say what impression the application made on me.It would have been less surprising had Grimm had ten thousand livres a year, or any relation more easy to comprehend with that woman, and had not such a crime been made of my taking her to the country, where, as if she had become younger, he was now pleased to think of placing her.Iperceived the good old lady had no other reason for asking my permission, which she might easily have done without, but the fear of losing what I already gave her, should I think ill of the step she took.Although this charity appeared to be very extraordinary, it did not strike me so much then as afterwards.But had I known even everything I have since discovered, I would still as readily have given my consent as I did and was obliged to do, unless I had exceeded the offer of M.Grimm.Father Berthier afterwards cured me a little of my opinion of his good nature and cordiality with which I had so unthinkingly charged him.
This same Father Berthier was acquainted with two men, who, for what reason I know not, were to become so with me; there was but little similarity between their taste and mine.They were the children of Melchisedec, of whom neither the country nor the family was known, no more than, in all probability, the real name.They were Jansenists, and passed for priests in disguise, perhaps on account of their ridiculous manner of wearing long swords, to which they appeared to have been fastened.The prodigious mystery in all their proceedings gave them the appearance of the heads of a party, and I never had the lead doubt of their 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 other cousin.They lodged at Paris with D'Alembert, in the house of his nurse named Madam Rousseau, and had taken at Montmorency a little apartment to pass the summers there.
They did everything for themselves, and had neither a servant nor runner; each had his turn weekly to purchase provisions, do the business of the kitchen, and sweep the house.They managed tolerably well, and we sometimes ate with each other.I know not for what reason they gave themselves any concern about me: for my part, my only motive for beginning an acquaintance with them was their playing at chess, and to make a poor little party I suffered four hours' fatigue.As they thrust themselves into all companies, and wished to intermeddle in everything, Theresa called them the gossips, and by this name they were long known at Montmorency.
