frenzy, would make my persecutors blush, all
my endeavors tended to prolong my resources until this happy revolution
should take place, after which I should more at my ease choose a resource
from amongst those which might offer themselves. To this effect I took
up my Dictionary of Music, which ten years' labor had so far advanced as
to leave nothing wanting to it but the last corrections. My books which
I had lately received, enabled me to finish this work; my papers sent me
by the same conveyance, furnished me with the means of beginning my
memoirs to which I was determined to give my whole attention. I began by
transcribing the letters into a book, by which my memory might be guided
in the order of fact and time. I had already selected those I intended
to keep for this purpose, and for ten years the series was not
interrupted. However, in preparing them for copying I found an
interruption at which I was surprised. This was for almost six months,
from October, 1756, to March following. I recollected having put into my
selection a number of letters from Diderot, De Leyre, Madam d' Epinay,
Madam de Chenonceaux, etc., which filled up the void and were missing.
What was become of them? Had any person laid their hands upon my papers
whilst they remained in the Hotel de Luxembourg? This was not
conceivable, and I had seen M. de Luxembourg take the key of the chamber
in which I had deposited them. Many letters from different ladies, and
all those from Diderot, were without date, on which account I had been
under the necessity of dating them from memory before they could be put
in order, and thinking I might have committed errors, I again looked them
over for the purpose of seeing whether or not I could find those which
ought to fill up the void. This experiment did not succeed. I perceived
the vacancy to be real, and that the letters had certainly been taken
away. By whom and for what purpose? This was what I could not
comprehend. These letters, written prior to my great quarrels, and at
the time of my first enthusiasm in the composition of 'Eloisa', could not
be interesting to any person. They contained nothing more than
cavillings by Diderot, jeerings from De Leyre, assurances of friendship
from M. de Chenonceaux, and even Madam d'Epinay, with whom I was then
upon the best of terms. To whom were these letters of consequence? To
what use were they to be put? It was not until seven years afterwards
that I su