Kepler and Newton . . . .

"I wish to send you my manuscript and give you the trouble of publishing
it with my name at Prague or elsewhere . . . . I will sell it to the
printer or to yourself for fifty florins and twenty-five copies on fine
paper when it is printed."

But Opiz replied:

"As the father of a family, I do not feel myself authorized to dispose of
my revenues on the impulse of my fancy or as my heart suggests.... and no
offer of yours could make me a book-seller."

This shows plainly enough that Opiz, for all his interest in Casanova,
had not the qualities of true friendship.

On the 6th September 1793, Casanova wrote:

"I will have my Reveries printed at Dresden, and I will be pleased to
send you a copy. I laughed a little at your fear that I would take
offense because you did not want my manuscript by sending me the
ridiculous sum I named to you. This refusal, my dear friend, did not
offend me. On the contrary it was useful as an aid in knowing character.
Add to this that in making the offer I thought to make you a gift. Fear
nothing from the event. Your system of economy will never interfere with
either my proceedings or my doctrines; and I am in no need of begging
you, for I think that your action followed only your inclination and
consequently your greatest pleasure."

On the insistence of Opiz, Casanova continued his correspondence, but he
passed over nothing more, neither in exact quotations from Latin authors,
nor solecisms, nor lame reasonings. He even reproached him for his poor
writing and did not cease joking at the philanthropic and amiable
sentiments Opiz loved to parade while at the same time keeping his
purse-strings tight. A number of quarreling letters followed, after which
the correspondence came to an end. One of Casanova's last letters, that
of the 2nd February 1794, concludes: "One day M. de Bragadin said to me:
'Jacques, be careful never to convince a quibbler, for he will become
your enemy.' After this wise advice I avoided syllogism, which tended
toward conviction. But in spite of this you have become my enemy. . . ."

Among the Casanova manuscripts at Dux was one giving his final comment on
his relations with Opiz. Accusing Opiz of bringing about a quarrel,
Casanova nevertheless admits that he himself may not be blameless, but
lays this to his carelessness. "I have a bad habit," he writes, "of not
reading over my letters. If, in re-reading those I wrote to M. Opiz, I
had fo