Since Madam d'Epinay was the only person
offended, at least in form, I thought it was not for me to strive to
bring about an eclaircissement for which she herself did not seem
anxious, and I returned as I had come; continuing, besides, to live
with her upon the same footing as before, I soon almost entirely
forgot the quarrel, and foolishly believed she had done the same,
because she seemed not to remember what had passed.
This, as it will soon appear, was not the only vexation caused me by
weakness; but I had others not less disagreeable, which I had not
brought upon myself. The only cause of these was a desire of forcing
me from my solitude,* by means of tormenting me. These originated from
Diderot and the d'Holbachiens. Since I had resided at the Hermitage,
Diderot incessantly harassed me, either himself or by means of De
Leyre, and I soon perceived from the pleasantries of the latter upon
my ramblings in the groves, with what pleasure he had travestied the
hermit into the gallant shepherd. But this was not the question in
my quarrels with Diderot; the causes of these were more serious. After
the publication of the Fils Naturel he had sent me a copy of it, which
I had read with the interest and attention I ever bestowed on the
works of a friend. In reading the kind of poem annexed to it, I was
surprised and rather grieved to find in it, amongst several things,
disobliging but supportable against men in solitude, this bitter and
severe sentence without the least softening: Il n'y a que le mechant
qui foit seul.
Pages:
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664