following
pages to press, without being in the least concerned about the severe
criticisms of the latter. I further declare, that the order of time and
disposition of the facts, which give more trouble to the writer than
pleasure to the reader, shall not much embarrass me in these Memoirs.
It being my design to convey a just idea of my hero, those circumstances
which most tend to illustrate and distinguish his character shall find
a place in these fragments just as they present themselves to
my imagination, without paying any particular attention to their
arrangement. For, after all, what does it signify where the portrait
is begun, provided the assemblage of the parts forms a whole which
perfectly expresses the original? The celebrated Plutarch, who treats
his heroes as he does his readers, commences the life of the one just as
he thinks fit, and diverts the attention of the other with digressions
into antiquity, or agreeable passages of literature, which frequently
have no reference to the subject; for instance, he tells us that
Demetrius Poliorcetes was far from being so tall as his father,
Antigonus; and afterwards, that his reputed father, Antigonus, was only
his uncle; but this is not until he has begun his life with a short
account of his death, his various exploits, his good and bad qualities;
and at last, out of compassion to his failings, brings forward a
comparison between him and the unfortunate Mark Antony.

What I have said upon this subject is not meant to reflect upon this
historian, to whom, of all the ancients, we are most obliged; it is only
intended to authorize the manner in which I have treated a life far more
extraordinary than any of those he has transmitted to us. It is my part
to describe a man whose inimitable character casts a veil over those
faults which I shall neither palliate nor disguise; a man distinguished
by a mixture of virtues and vices so closely linked together as in
appearance to form a necessary dependence, glowing with the greatest
beauty when united, shining with the brightest lustre when opposed.

It is this indefinable brilliancy, which, in war, in love, in gaming,
and in the various stages of a long life, has rendered the Count de
Grammont the admiration of his age, and the delight of every country
wherein he has displayed his engaging wit, dispensed his generosity and
magnificence, or practised his inconstancy: it is owing to this that
the sallies of a sprightly imaginat