hink myself,
considering everything, the best of men, felt there is no human being,
however pure he maybe, who does not internally conceal some odious vice.
I knew I was described to the public very different from what I really
was, and so opposite, that notwithstanding my faults, all of which I was
determined to relate, I could not but be a gainer by showing myself in my
proper colors. This, besides, not being to be done without setting forth
others also in theirs and the work for the same reason not being of a
nature to appear during my lifetime, and that of several other persons,
I was the more encouraged to make my confession, at which I should never
have to blush before any person. I therefore resolved to dedicate my
leisure to the execution of this undertaking, and immediately began to
collect such letters and papers as might guide or assist my memory,
greatly regretting the loss of all I had burned, mislaid and destroyed.

The project of absolute retirement, one of the most reasonable I had ever
formed, was strongly impressed upon my mind, and for the execution of it
I was already taking measures, when Heaven, which prepared me a different
destiny, plunged me into a another vortex.

Montmorency, the ancient and fine patrimony of the illustrious family of
that name, was taken from it by confiscation. It passed by the sister of
Duke Henry, to the house of Conde, which has changed the name of
Montmorency to that of Enguien, and the duchy has no other castle than an
old tower, where the archives are kept, and to which the vassals come to
do homage. But at Montmorency, or Enguien, there is a private house,
built by Crosat, called 'le pauvre', which having the magnificence of the
most superb chateaux, deserves and bears the name of a castle. The
majestic appearance of this noble edifice, the view from it, not equalled
perhaps in any country; the spacious saloon, painted by the hand of a
master; the garden, planted by the celebrated Le Notre; all combined to
form a whole strikingly majestic, in which there is still a simplicity
that enforces admiration. The Marechal Duke de Luxembourg who then
inhabited this house, came every year into the neighborhood where
formerly his ancestors were the masters, to pass, at least, five or six
weeks as a private inhabitant, but with a splendor which did not
degenerate from the ancient lustre of his family. On the first journey
he made to it after my residing at Montmorency, he