an 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 Amelia 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 I broke 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.

My very bowels yearned at the sigh