Page images
PDF
EPUB

INASSE.

93

MAD. DU DEFFAND AND MLLE. DE LESPINASSE.

(January,

1810.)

Correspondance inédite de MADAME DU DEFFAND, avec D'Alembert, Montesquieu, le Président Henault, La Duchesse du Maine, Mesdames de Choiseul, De Staal, &c. &c. 3 tomes, 12mo. Paris: 1809.

Lettres de MADEMOISELLE DE LESPINASSE, écrites depuis l'Année 1773 jusqu'à l'Année 1776, &c. 3 tomes, 12mo. Paris: 1809.

before us. That they are authentic, we conceive, is demonstrated by internal evidence; though, if more of them are extant, the selection that has been made appears to us to be a little capricious. The correspondence of Madame du Deffand reaches from the year 1738 to 1764;—that of Mademoiselle de Lespinasse extends only from 1773 to 1776. The two works, therefore, relate to different periods; and, being entirely of different characters, seem naturally to call for a separate consideration. We begin with the correspondence of Madame du Deffand, both out of respect to her seniority, and because the va riety which it exhibits seems to afford room for more observation.

THE popular works of La Harpe and Mar- Where the letters that are now given to the montel have made the names at least of these world have been secreted for the last thirty ladies pretty well known in this country; and years, or by whom they are at last publish we have been induced to place their corres-ed, we are not informed in either of the works pondence under one article, both because their history is in some measure connected, and because, though extremely unlike each other, they both form a decided contrast to our own national character, and, taken together, go far to exhaust what was peculiar in that of France. Most of our readers probably remember what La Harpe and Marmontel have said of these two distinguished women; and, at all events, it is not necessary for our purpose to give more than a very superficial account of them. Madame du Deffand was left a widow with a moderate fortune, and a great reputation for wit, about 1750; and soon after gave up her hotel, and retired to apartments in the Couvent de St. Joseph, where she continued to receive, almost every evening, whatever was most distinguished in Paris for rank, talent, or accomplishment. Having become almost blind in a few years thereafter, she found she required the attendance of some intelligent young woman, who might read and write for her, and assist in doing the honours of her conversazioni. For this purpose she cast her eyes on Mademoiselle Lespinasse, the illegitimate daughter of a man of rank, who had been boarded in the same convent, and was for some time delighted with her election. By and bye, however, she found that her young companion began to engross more of the notice of her visitors than she thought suitable; and parted from her with violent, ungenerous, and implacable displeasure. Mademoiselle de Lespinasse, however, carried with her the admiration of the greater part of her patroness' circle; and having obtained a small pension from government, opened her own doors to a society not less brilliant than that into which she had been initiated under Madame du Deffand. The fatigue, however, which she had undergone in reading the old marchioness asleep, had irreparably injured her health, which was still more impaired by the agitations of her own inflammable and ambitious spirit; and she died, before she had obtained middle age, about 1776,-leaving on the minds of almost all the eminent men in France, an impression of talent, and of ardour of imagination, which seems to have been considered as without example. Madame du Deffand continued to preside in her circle till a period of extreme old age; and died in 1780, in full possession of her faculties.

As this lady's house was for fifty years the resort of every thing brilliant in Paris, it is natural to suppose, that she herself must have possessed no ordinary attraction-and to feel an eager curiosity to be introduced even to that shadow of her conversation which we may expect to meet with in her correspondence. Though the greater part of the letters are addressed to her by various correspondents, yet the few which she does write are strongly marked with the traces of her peculiar character and talent; and the whole taken together give a very lively idea of the structure and occupations of the best French society, in the days of its greatest splendour. Laying out of view the greater constitutional gaiety of our neighbours, it appears to us, that this society was distinguished from any that has ever existed in England, by three circumstances chiefly:-in the first place, by the exclusion of all low-bred persons; secondly, by the superior intelligence and cultivation of the women; and, finally, by the want of politi cal avocations, and the absence of political antipathies.

By the first of these circumstances, the old Parisian society was rendered considerably more refined, and infinitely more easy and natural. The general and peremptory proscription of the bourgeois, excluded, no doubt. a good deal of vulgarity and coarseness; but it had a still better effect in excluding those feelings of mutual jealousy and contempt, and that conflict of family pride and consequential opulence, which can only be prevented from disturbing a more promiscuous assembly, by means of universal and systematic reserve.

Where all are noble, all are equal;-there is | had nothing but society to attend to; whereas, no room for ostentation or pretension of any in the latter, almost all who are considerable sort;-every one is in his place every where; for ranks or for talents, are continually enand the same manners being familiar to the grossed with politics. They have no leisure, whole society from their childhood, manners therefore, for society, in the first place: in the cease in a great measure to be an object of second place, if they do enter it at all, they are attention. Nobody apprehends any imputa- apt to regard it as a scene rather of relaxation tion of vulgarity; and nobody values himself than exertion; and, finally, they naturally on being free from it. The little peculiarities acquire those habits of thinking and of talkby which individuals are distinguished, are ing, which are better adapted to carry on ascribed, not to ignorance or awkwardness, business and debate, than to enliven people but to caprice merely, or to peculiarity of dis-assembled for amusement. In England, men position; and not being checked by contempt or derision, are indulged, for the most part, as caprice or disposition may dictate; and thus the very highest society is brought back, and by the same causes, to much of the freedom and simplicity of the lowest.

of condition have still to perform the high duties of citizens and statesmen, and can only rise to eminence by dedicating their days and nights to the study of business and affairsto the arts of influencing those, with whom, and by whom, they are to act-and to the In England, we have never had this ar- actual management of those strenuous conrangement. The great wealth of the mercan- tentions by which the government of a free tile classes, and the privilege which every state is perpetually embarrassed and preman here possesses of aspiring to every situa-served. In France, on the contrary, under tion, has always prevented any such complete the old monarchy, men of the first rank had separation of the high and the low-born, even no political functions to discharge-no control in ordinary society, and made all large assem- to exercise over the government-and no rights blages of people to a certain degree promis- to assert, either for themselves or their fellow cuous. Great wealth, or great talents, being subjects. They were either left, therefore, sufficient to raise a man to power and emi- to solace their idleness with the frivolous ennence, are necessarily received as a sufficient chantments of polished society, or, if they had passport into private company; and fill it, on any object of public ambition, were driven to the large scale, with such motley and dis- pursue it by the mediation of those favourites cordant characters, as visibly to endanger or mistresses who were most likely to be won either its ease or its tranquillity. The pride by the charms of an elegant address, or the of purse, and of rank, and of manners, mutu- assiduities of a skilful flatterer. ally provoke each other; and vanities which were undiscovered while they were universal, soon become visible in the light of opposite vanities. With us, therefore, society, when it passes beyond select clubs and associations, is apt either to be distracted with little jealousies and divisions, or finally to settle into constraint, insipidity, and reserve. People meeting from all the extremes of life, are afraid of being misconstrued, and despair of being understood. Conversation is left to a few professed talkers; and all the rest are satisfied to hold their tongues, and despise each other in their hearts.

The superior cultivation of French Women, however, was productive of still more substantial advantages. Ever since Europe became civilised, the females of that country have stood more on an intellectual level with the men than in any other, and have taken their share in the politics and literature, and public controversies of the day, far more largely than in any other nation with which we are acquainted. For more than two centuries, they have been the umpires of polite letters, and the depositaries and the agents of those intrigues by which the functions of government are usually forwarded or impeded. They could talk, therefore, of every thing that men could wish to talk about; and general conversation, consequently, assumed a tone, both less frivolous and less uniform, than it has ever attained in our country.

The grand source, however, of the difference between the good society of France and of England, is, that, in the former counry, men

It is to this lamentable inferiority in the government and constitution of their country, that the French are indebted for the superiority of their polite assemblies. Their saloons are better filled than ours, because they have no senate to fill out of their population; and their conversation is more sprightly, and their society more animated than ours, because there is no other outlet for the talent and ingenuity of the nation but society and conversation. Our parties of pleasure, on the other hand, are mostly left to beardless youths and superannuated idlers-not because our men want talents or taste to adorn them, but because their ambition, and their sense of public duty, have dedicated them to a higher service. When we lose our constitution-when the houses of parliament are shut up, our assemblies, we have no doubt, will be far more animated and rational. It would be easy to have splendid gardens and parterres, if we would only give up our corn fields and our pastures: nor should we want for magnificent fountains and ornamental canals, if we were contented to drain the whole surrounding country of the rills that maintain its fertility and beauty.

But, while it is impossible to deny that the French enjoyed, in the agreeable constitution of their higher society, no slight compensation for the want of a free government, it is curious, and not unsatisfactory, to be able to trace the operation of this same compensating principle through all the departments we have alluded to. It is obviously to our free government, and to nothing else, that we owe that mixture of ranks and of characters, which certainly

renders our large society less amiable, and less unconstrained, than that of the old French nobility. Men, possessed of wealth and political power, must be associated with by all with whom they choose to associate, and to whom their friendship or support is material. A trader who has bought his borough but yesterday, will not give his influence to any set of noblemen or ministers, who will not receive him and his family into their society, and agree to treat them as their equals. The same principle extends downwards by imperceptible gradations; and the whole community is mingled in private life, it must be owned with some little discomfort, by the ultimate action of the same principles which combine them, to their incalculable benefit, in public.

[blocks in formation]

This distinction too, we think, arises out of the difference of government, or out of some of its more immediate consequences. Our politicians are too busy to mix with men of study; and our idlers are too weak and too frivolous. The studious, therefore, are driven in a great measure to herd with each other, and to form a little world of their own, in which all their peculiarities are aggravated, Even the backwardness or the ignorance of their vanity encouraged, and their awkwardour women may be referred to the same no-ness confirmed. In Paris, where talent and ble origin. Women have no legal or direct idleness met together, a society grew up, both political functions in any country in the uni- more inviting and more accessible to men of verse. In the arbitrary governments of Eu- thought and erudition. What they commurope, however, they exert a personal influence nicated to this society rendered it more intelover those in power and authority, which ligent and respectable; and what they learned raises them into consequence, familiarizes from it, made them much more reasonable, them in some degree with business and affairs, amiable, and happy. They learned, in short, and leads them to study the character and the the true value of knowledge and of wisdom, dispositions of the most eminent persons of by seeing exactly how much they could contheir day. In free states, again, where the tribute to the government or the embellishpersonal inclination of any individual can go ment of life; and discovered, that there were but a little way, and where every thing must sources both of pride and of happiness, far be canvassed and sanctioned by its legitimate more important and abundant than thinking, censors, this influence is very inconsiderable; writing, or reading. and women are excluded almost entirely from It is curious, accordingly, to trace in the any concern in those affairs, with which the volumes before us, the more intimate and leading spirits of the country are necessarily private life of some of those distinguished occupied. They come, therefore, almost un- men, whom we find it difficult to represent to avoidably, to be considered as of a lower order ourselves under any other aspect, than that of intellect, and to act, and to be treated, upon of the authors of their learned publications. that apprehension. The chief cause of their D'Alembert, Montesquieu, Henault, and sevinferiority, however, arises from the circum-eral others, all appear in those letters in their stances that have been already stated. Most of the men of talent in upper life are engaged in pursuits from which women are necessarily excluded, and have no leisure to join in those pursuits which might occupy them in common. Being thus abandoned in a good degree to the society of the frivolous of our sex, it is impossible that they should not be frivolous in their turn. In old France, on the contrary, the men of talents in upper life had little to do but to please and be pleased with the women; and they naturally came to acquire that knowledge and those accomplishments which fitted them for such society.

The last distinction between good French and good English society, arises from the different position which was occupied in each by the men of letters. In France, certainly, they mingled much more extensively with the polite world, incalculably to the benefit both of that world, and of themselves. In England, our great scholars and authors have commonly lived in their studies, or in the society of a few learned friends or dependants; and their life has been so generally gloomy, laborious and inelegant, that literature and intellectual eminence have lost some of their honours, and much of their attraction. With us, when a man takes to authorship, he is commonly

true and habitual character, of cheerful and careless men of the world-whose thoughts ran mostly on the little exertions and amusements of their daily society; who valued even their greatest works chiefly as the means of amusing their leisure, or of entitling them to the admiration of their acquaintances; and occupied themselves about posterity far less than posterity will be occupied about them. It will probably scandalize a good part of our men of learning and science (though we think it will be consolatory to some) to be told, that there is great reason for suspecting that the most profound of those authors looked upon learning chiefly as a sort of tranquil and innocent amusement; to which it was very well to have recourse when more lively occupations were not at hand, but which it was wise and meritorious, at all times, to postpone to pleasant parties, and the natural play, either of the imagination or of the affections. It ap pears, accordingly, not only that they talked easily and familiarly of all their works to their female friends, but that they gave themselves very little anxiety either about their sale, or their notoriety out of the sphere of their own acquaintances, and made and invited all sorts of jokes upon them with unfeigned gaiety and indifference. The lives of our learned men

would be much happier, and their learning much more useful and amiable, if they could be persuaded to see things in the same light. It is more than time, however, to introduce the reader to the characters in the volumes before us.

Madame du Deffand's correspondence consists of letters from Montesquieu, D'Alembert, Henault, D'Argens, Formont, Bernstorff, Scheffer, &c. among the men,-and Mesdames de Staal, de Choiseul, &c. among the women. Her own letters, as we have already intimated, form but a very inconsiderable part of the collection; and, as these distinguished names naturally excite, in persons out of Paris, more interest than that of any witty marchioness whatsoever, we shall begin with some specimens of the intimate and private style of those eminent individuals, who are already so well known for the value and the beauty of their public instructions.

Of these, the oldest and the most popularly known, was Montesquieu,-an author who frequently appears profound when he is only paradoxical, and seems to have studied with great success the art of hiding a desultory and fantastical style of reasoning in imposing aphorisms, and epigrams of considerable effect. It is impossible to read the Esprit des Loix, without feeling that it is the work of an indolent and very ingenious person, who had fits of thoughtfulness and ambition; and had meditated the different points which it comprehends at long intervals, and then connected them as he best could, by insinuations, metaphors, and vague verbal distinctions. There is but little of him in this collection; but what there is, is extremely characteristic. D'Alembert had proposed that he should write the articles Democracy and Despotism, for the Encyclopédie; to which proposal he answers with much naïveté, as follows:

simplicity and openness of his character-his perpetual gentleness and gaiety in societythe unostentatious independence of his senti ments and conduct-his natural and cheerful superiority to all feelings of worldly ambition, jealousy, or envy-and that air of perpetual youth and unassuming kindness, which made him so delightful and so happy in the society of women,—are traits which we scarcely expect to find in combination with those splendid qualifications; and compose altogether a character of which we should have been tempted to question the reality, were we not fortunate enough to be familiar with its counterpart in one living individual.*

It is not possible, perhaps, to give a better idea of the character of D'Alembert, than merely to state the fact, and the reason of his having refused to go to Berlin, to preside over the academy founded there by Frederic. answer to a most flattering and urgent application from that sovereign, he writes thus to M. D'Argens.†

In

"La situation où je suis seroit peut-être, monsieur, un motif suffisant pour bien d'autres, de renoncer à leur pays. Ma fortune est au-dessous du médiocre; 1700 liv. de rente font tout mon revenu: entièrement indépendant et maître de mes volontés, gouvernement comme tant de gens le sont de la je n'ai point de famille qui s'y oppose; oublié du Providence, persécuté même autant qu'on peut l'être quand on évite de donner trop d'avantages sur soi à la méchanceté des hommes; je n'ai aucune part aux récompenses qui pleuvent ici sur les gens Malgré tout cela, monsieur, la tranquillité dont je de lettres, avec plus de profusion que de lumières. jouis est si parfaite et si douce, que je ne puis ine résoudre à lui faire courir le moindre risque."

Supérieur à la mauvaise fortune, les épreuves de toute espèce que j'ai essuyées dans ce genre, m'ont endurei à l'indigence et au malheur, et ne m'ont blent. A force de privations, je me suis accoutumé laissé de sensibilité que pour ceux qui me ressemsans effort à me contenter du plus étroit nécessaire, et je serois même en état de partager mon peu de fortune avec d'honnêtes gens plus pauvres que moi. J'ai "Quant à mon introduction dans l'Encyclopé- commencé, comme les autres hommes, par désirer die, c'est un beau palais où je serais bien glorieux les places et les richesses, j'ai fini par y renoncer abde mettre les pieds; mais pour les deux articles solument ; et de jour en jour je m'en trouve mieux. Démocratie et Despotisme, je ne voudrais pas pren- La vie retirée et assez obscure que je mène est dre ceux-la; j'ai tiré, sur ces articles, de mon cer- parfaitement conforme à mon caractère, à mon veau tout ce qui y était. L'esprit que j'ai est un amour extrême pour l'indépendance, et peut-être moule; on n'en tire jamais que les mêmes portraits: même à un peu d'éloignement que les événemens ainsi je ne vous dirais que ce que j'ai dit, et peut- de ma vie m'ont inspiré pour les hommes. La reêtre plus mal que je ne l'ai dit. Ainsi, si vous traite ou le régime que me prescrivent mon état et voulez de moi, laissez à mon esprit le choix de quel- mon goût m'ont procuré la santé la plus parfaite et ques articles; et si vous voulez ce choix, ce fera la plus égale-c'est-à-dire, le premier bien d'un chez madame du Deffand avec du marasquin. Le philosophe; enfin j'ai le bonheur de jouir d'un petit père Castel dit qu'il ne peut pas se corriger, parce nombre d'amis, dont le commerce et la confiance qu'en corrigeant son ouvrage, il en fait un autre; et font la consolation et le charme de ma vie. Jugez moi je ne puis pas me corriger, parce que je chante maintenant vous-même, monsieur, s'il m'est possitoujours la même chose. Il me vient dans l'esprit ble de renoncer à ces avantages, et de changer un que je pourrais prendre peut-être l'article Goût, et bonheur sûr pour une situation toujours incertaine, je prouverai bien que difficile est propriè communia quelque brillante qu'elle puisse être. Je ne doute dicere."-Vol. i. pp. 30, 31. nullement des bontés du roi, et de tout ce qu'il pent

* It cannot now offend the modesty of any living reader, if I explain that the person here alluded to was my excellent and amiable friend, the late Professor Playfair.

There is likewise another very pleasing letter to M. de Henault, and a gay copy of verses to Madame de Mirepoix;-but we hasten on to a personage still more engaging. Of all the men of genius that ever existed, D'Alem- This learned person writes in a very affected bert perhaps is the most amiable and truly and précieuse style. He ends one of his letters to respectable. The great extent and variety of D'Alembert with the following eloquent expreshis learning, his vast attainments and dis- sion:-"Ma santé s'effoiblit tous les jours de plus coveries in the mathematical sciences, and the reverences au père éternel: mais tandis que je res en plus; et je me dispose à aller faire bientôt mes beauty and eloquence of his literary compositerai dans ce monde je serai le plus zélé de vos adtions, are known to all the world: But the mirateurs."

[ocr errors]

faire pour me rendre agréable mon nouvel état; derai ce que je gagnerai: il n'y a pas d'ap; arence mais, malheureusement pour moi, toutes les circon- que cela se monte fort haut; il n'y a pas d'appastances essentielles à mon bonheur ne sont pas en rence non plus que je continue à travailler dans co son pouvoir. Si ma santé venoit à s'altérer, ce qui genre. Je ferai de la géométrie, et je lirai Tacite! ne seroit que trop à craindre, que deviendrois-je Il me semble qu'on a grande envie que je me taise. alors? Incapable de me rendre utile au roi, je me et en vérité je ne demande pas mieux. Quand ma verrois forcé à aller finir mes jours loin de lui, et à petite fortune ne suffira plus à ma subsistence, je reprendre dans ma patrie, ou ailleurs, mon ancien me retirerai dans quelque endroit où je puisse vivre état, qui auroit perdu ses premiers charmes. Peut-et mourir à bon marché. Adieu, Madame. Esêtre même n'aurois-je plus la consolation de re- timez, comme moi, les hommes ce qu'ils valent, et trouver en France les amis que j'y aurois laissés, et il ne vous manquera rien pour être heureuse. à qui je percerois le cœur par mon départ. Je vous dit Voltaire raccommodé avec le roi de Prusse, et avoue, monsieur, que cette dernière raison seule Maupertuis retombé. Ma foi, les hommes sont peut tout sur moi. bien foux, à commencer par les sages."-Vol. ii. pp. 50, 51.

"Enfin (et je vous prie d'être persuadé que je ne cherche point à me parer ici d'une fausse modestie) je doute que je fusse aussi propre à cette place que S. M. veut bien le croire. Livré dès mon enfance à des etudes continuelles, je n'ai que dans la théorie la connoissance des hommes, qui est si nécessaire dans la p atique quand on a affaire à eux. La tranquillité, et, si je l'ose dire, l'oisiveté du cabinet, m'ont rendu absolument incapable des détails auxquels le chef d'un corps doit se livrer. D'ailleurs, dans les différens objets dont l'Académie s'occupe, il en est qui me sont entièrement inconnus, comme la chimie, l'histoire naturelle, et plusieurs autres, sur lesquels par conséquent je ne pourrois être aussi utile que je le désirerois. Enfin une place aussi brillante que celle dont le roi veut m'honorer, oblige à une sorte de représentation tout-à-fait éloignée du train de vie que j'ai pris jusqu'ici; elle engage à un grand nombre de devoirs: et les devoirs sont les entraves d'un homme libre."-Vol. ii. pp.73-78. This whole transaction was kept quite secret for many months; and, when it began to take air, he speaks of it to Madame du Deffand, in the following natural manner.

[ocr errors]

Après tout, que cela se répande ou ne se ré. pande pas, je n'en suis ni faché ni bien-aise. Je garderai au roi de Prusse son secret, même lorsqu'il ne l'exige plus, et vous verrez aisément que mes lettres n'ont pas été faites pour être vues du ministère de France; je suis bien résolu de ne lui pas demander plus de grâces qu'aux ministres du roi de Congo; et je me contenterai que la postérité lise sur mon tombeau; il fut estimé des honnêtes gens, et est mort pauvre, parce qu'il l'a bien voulu. Voilà, madame, de quelle manière je pense. Je ne veux braver ni aussi flatter les gens qui m'ont fait du mal, ou qui sont dans la disposition de m'en faire; mais je me conduirai de manière que je les réduirai seule. ment à ne me pas faire du bien."-Vol. ii. pp. 33, 34.

Upon publishing his Melanges, he was furiously attacked by a variety of acrimonious writers; and all his revenge was to retire to his geometry, and to write such letters as the following to Madame du Deffand.

[ocr errors]

On

Eh bien! vous ne voulez donc pas, ni Formont non plus, que je me claquemure dans ma géométrie? J'en suis pourtant bien tenté. Si vous saviez combien cette géométrie est une retraite douce à la paresse! et puis les sots ne vous lisent point, et par conséquent ne vous blâment ni ne vous louent: et comptez-vous cet avantage-là pour rien? En tout cas, j'ai de la géométrie pour un an, tout au moins. Ah! que je fais à présent de belles choses que personne ne fira!

"J'ai bien quelques morceaux de littérature à traiter, qui seroient peut-être assez agréables; mais je chasse tout cela de ma tête, comme mauvais train. La géométrie est ma femme, et je me suis remis en ménage.

"Avec cela, j'ai plus d'argent devant moi que je n'en puis dépenser. Ma foi, on est bien fou de se tant tourmenter pour des choses qui ne rendent pas plus heureux: on a bien plutôt fait de dire: Ne dont j'use depuis long-temps."-Vol. ii. pp. 52, 53. pourrois-je pas me passer de cela? Et c'est la recette

With all this softness and carelessness of character, nothing could be more firm and inflexible when truth and justice were in question. The President Henault was the oldest and first favourite of Madame du Deffand; and, at the time of publishing the Encyclopædia, Madame du Deffand had more power over D'Alembert than any other person. She wished very much that something flattering should be said of her favourite in the Introductory Discourse, which took a review of the progress of the arts and sciences; but D'Alembert resisted, with heroic courage, all the entreaties that were addressed to him on this subject. The following may serve as specimens of the tone which he maintained on the occasion.

"Je suis devenu cent fois plus amoureux de la retraite et de la solitude, que je ne l'étois quand vous avez quitté Paris. Je dîne et soupe chez moi tous les jours, ou presque tous les jours, et je me trouve très-bien de cette manière de vivre. Je vous verrai donc quand vous n'aurez personne, et aux

"Me voilà claquemuré pour long-temps, et vraisemblablement pour toujours, dans ma triste, mais très-chère et très-paisible Géométrie! Je suis fortheures où je pourrai espérer de vous trouver seule: content de trouver un prétexte pour ne plus rien faire, dans le déchaînement que mon livre a excité contre moi. Je n'ai pourtant ni attaqué personne, ni même désigné qui que ce soit, plus que n'a fait l'auteur du Méchant, et vingt autres, contre lesquels personne ne s'est déchaîné. Mais il n'y a qu'heur et malheur. Je n'ai besoin ni de l'amitié de tous ces gens-là. puisque assurément je ne veux rien leur demander, ni de leur estime, puisque j'ai bien résolu de ne jamais vivre avec eux: aussi je les mets à pis faire.

dans d'autres temps, j'y rencontrerois votre président, qui m'embarrasseroit, parce qu'il croiroit avoir des reproches á me faire, que je ne crois point en mériter, et que je ne veux pas être dans le cas de le désobliger, en me justifiant auprès de lui. Ce que vous me demandez pour lui est impossible, et je puis vous assurer qu'il est bien impossible, puisque je ne fais pas cela pour vous. En premier lieu, le Discours préliminaire est imprimé, il y a plus de six semaines: ainsi je ne pourrois pas l'y fourrer aujourd'hui, même quand je le voudrois. En second lieu, pensez-vous de bonne foi, madame, que dans un ouvrage destiné à célébrer les grands génies de la nation et les ouvrages qui ont véritablement con• Mon ouvrage est publié; il s'est un peu vendu; tribué aux progrès des lettres et des sciences, je les frais de l'impression sont retirés; les éloges, doive parler de l'Abrégé chronologique ? C'est les critiques et l'argent viendront quand ils vou- un ouvrage utile, j'en conviens, et assez commode; dront." "Je n'ai encore rien touché. Je vous man-mais voilà tout en vérité: c'est là ce que les gens

Adieu, Madame; hâtez votre retour. Que ne savez-vous de la géométrie! qu'avec elle on se passe de bien des choses!"-Vol. i. pp. 104, 105.

« PreviousContinue »