At the second journey to Montmorency, in the year 1760, the reading of Eloisa being finished, I had recourse to that of Emile, to support myself in the good graces of Madam de Luxembourg; but this, whether the subject was less to her taste, or that so much reading at length fatigued her, did not succeed so well.However, as she reproached me with suffering myself to be the dupe of booksellers, she wished me to leave to her care the printing the work, that I might reap from it a greater advantage.I consented to her doing it, on the express condition of its not being printed in France, on which we had a long dispute; I affirming that it was impossible to obtain, and even imprudent to solicit, a tacit permission; and being unwilling to permit the impression upon any other terms in the kingdom; she, that the censor could not make the least difficulty, according to the system government had adopted.She found means to make M.de Malesherbes enter into her views.He wrote to me on the subject a long letter with his own hand, to prove the profession of faith of the Savoyard vicar to be a composition which must everywhere gain the approbation of its readers and that of the court, as things were then circumstanced.I was surprised to see this magistrate, always so prudent, become so smooth in the business, as the printing of a book was by that alone legal, I had no longer any objection to make to that of the work.Yet, by an extraordinary scruple, I still required it should be printed in Holland, and by the bookseller Neaulme, whom, not satisfied with indicating him, I informed of my wishes, consenting the edition should be brought out for the profit of a French bookseller, and that as soon as it was ready it should be sold at Paris, or wherever else it might be thought proper, as with this I had no manner of concern.This is 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 granddaughter Mademoiselle de Boufflers, now Duchess of Lauzun.Her name was Amelie.
She was a charming girl.She really had a maiden beauty, mildness and timidity.Nothing could be more lovely than her person, nothing more chaste and tender than the sentiments she inspired.She was, besides, still a child under eleven years of age.Madam de Luxembourg, who thought her too timid, used every endeavor to animate her.She permitted me several times to give her a kiss, which I did with my usual awkwardness.instead of saying flattering things to her, as any other person would have done, I remained silent and disconcerted, and I know not 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 had been to see Theresa, with whom her governess still was.Not knowing what else to say, I proposed to her a kiss, which, in the innocence of her heart, she did not refuse; having in the morning received one from me by order of her grandmother, and in her presence.The next day, while reading Emilie by the side of the bed of Madam de Luxembourg, I came to a passage in which I justly censure that which I had done the preceding evening.She thought the reflection extremely just, and said some very sensible things upon the subject which made me blush.How was I enraged at my incredible stupidity, which has frequently given me the appearance of guilt when I was nothing more than a fool and embarrassed! a stupidity, which in a man known to be endowed with some wit, is considered as a false excuse.I can safely swear that in this kiss, as well as in the others, the heart and thoughts of Mademoiselle Amelie were not more pure than my own, and that if I could have avoided meeting her I should have done it; not that I had not great pleasure in seeing her, but from the embarrassment of not finding a word proper to say.
Whence comes it that even a child can intimidate a man, whom the power of kings has never inspired with fear? What is to be done? How, without presence of mind, 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 a misanthrope, an unsociable animal, a bear.Total imbecility would have been more favorable to me; but the talents which I have failed to improve in the world have become the instruments of my destruction, and of that of the talents I possessed.
At the latter end of this journey, Madam de Luxembourg did a good action in which I had some share.Diderot having very imprudently offended the Princess of Robeck, daughter of M.de Luxembourg, Palissot, whom she protected, took up the quarrel, and revenged her by the comedy of The Philosophers, in which I was ridiculed, and Diderot very roughly handled.The author treated me with more gentleness, less, I am of opinion, on account of the obligation he was under to me, than from the fear of displeasing the father of his protectress, by whom he knew I was beloved.The bookseller Duchesne, with whom I was not at that time acquainted, sent me the comedy when it was printed, and this I suspect was by the order of Palissot, who,.
perhaps, thought I should have a pleasure in seeing a man with whom I was no longer connected defamed.He was greatly deceived.When Ibroke with Diderot, whom I thought less ill-natured than weak and indiscreet, I still always preserved for his person an attachment, an esteem even, and a respect for our ancient friendship, which I know was for a long time as sincere on his part as on mine.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 person who, without the least subject of complaint, and solely to satisfy his gloomy jealousy, became, under the mask of friendship, my most cruel calumniator.
This man is to me a cipher; the other will always be my old friend.
