Memoirs of Madame d'Épinay
Epinay, Louise Florence Pétronille Tardieu d'Esclavelles, marquise d', 1726-1783
A cz A 0 "^ o — 1 0 ^ ^S^^^SS 5 ^ 0 m ^^^^^^ o 0 ^^^^^^ 9 ^ 5 ■■^^^iHB ^ m^^^^^S 03 5 5 JO ^s^^^ss -< 1 3> 9 c ■ -< 5 :tilk%^^ LIBRARY lv«:^ty of ^Ufornia Irvine SI V,3 MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE OP MADAME D':^PINAY (Courtiers and ^ourites Oj Music at d'Epinay's From the painting by Kainmerer Courtiers and Favourites of Royalty [Memoirs of the Court of France With Contemporary and [Modern lUiistrations Colle^ed from the French U^ational <-/lrchivcs BY Leon Vallee LIBRARIAN AT THE BIBLIOTHEQUE NATIONALE {Memoirs cMadame d'Epinay In Three Volumes Vol. Ill Paris Societe des 'Bibliophiles New York {Merrill &■ "Baker EDITION DU "PETIT TRIANON Limited to One Thousand Sets 113. CONTENTS OF VOL. Ill Chaptxr XVI (continutd). WAom Portrait of M. de Margency — The army of Germany — M. de Jolly as Madame de Pompadour's ambassador Z Chapter XVII Saint-Lambert in the field with Grimm — Madame de Pompadoor s desire to become ruler of Neufchatel — Life at La Chevrette— Mademoiselle d'fipinay's character — M. d'fipinay reappears on the scene for a moment — Madame d'fipinay refuses Rous- seau's affection — Philharmonic association of Francueil and M. d'fipinay — Meetings between ;Rousseau and Madame d'Houde- tot — Conversation between Rousseau and Madame d'fipinay on the subject of education — Intimacy and subsequent rupture be- tween Madame d'Houdetot and Madame de Verdelin — News from the army — Gloomy pictures — M. de Margency's affected letter — A grand dinner at the Hermitage — Saint -Lambert's sudden return — Rousseau in Paris at Diderot's house — Desmahis turned religious — Diderot prevents D'Holbach from going to La Chev- rette— Rousseau, Saint-Lambert, and Madame d'Houdetot to- gether Z4 Chaptkr XVIII Madame d'fipinay's comments upon the past and future — Ronsseaa imagines that she is keeping Saint-Lambert informed — His fury — Warlike notes — He goes to fipinay to avoid a scandal — Hurried departure of Saint-Lambert — Therese's chattering — M. de Croismare and Mademoiselle d'fipinay — News of the battle of Hastenbeck — M. de Jully's letters about Geneva — The D'Holbach household — The Abbe de V * * * — Grimm's return — His conver- sation with Rousseau — Madame d'fipinay's unaccountable illness — She has to leave Pau-is — Grimm wants Rousseau to accompemy her — Diderot stirred to action by Grimm — Rousseau revolts — Madame d'Houdetot's endeavours to keep the peace — Grimm's final attack upon his old friend — Rousseaa defends himself — Definite rupture . . . M vfll CONTENTS Chaptbr XIX News from Madame d'Epinay — How the philosophers prepare to explain Rousseau's departure — The part which Diderot is mads to play — His poetical declamations against Rousseau, who proudly decides to leave the Hermitage — Arrival of Madame d'fipinay at Geneva — Voltaire's attentions to her — Publication of the "Lettre sur les Spectacles" — Tronchin enlisted amongst the author's enemies — M. de Margency quarrels with D'Holbach — Last appearance of Francueil — Return of M. d'fipinay from Geneva — Pictures of Genevese life — "Les Delices" and the d^shabilM of Voltaire and Madame Denis — M. de Jnlly's amiability — Madame d'Esclavelles visits Diderot in Paris at D'Holbach's— Rousseau leaves the Hermitage .... 144 Chapter XX Madame d'fipinay at Voltaire's house — Madame d'Houdetot and Saint-Lambert again — Madame le Vasseur — Portrait of Voltaire by Madame d'fipinay — Saint-Lambert defends Rousseau — Madame d'fipinay's popularity at Geneva, as being the friend of Rousseau — M. d'fipinay's opinions in regard to the educa- tion of his son — Rousseau's last letter — Madame d'fipinay sends for Grimm, who, after some delay, arrives — The stay at Geneva prolonged — Madame d'fipinay proposes to get her writings printed — Voltaire's censure 203 Additional Correspondence of Madame d'fipinay .... 243 Letters from J. J. Ronsseaa to Madame d'fipinay (not inserted in the Memoirs) 264 Select Letters of Madams d'fipinay to various persons • • . 880 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS VOLUME III Music at Madame b'^pinay's. Frontispiece. Course of Study from the Writing of the Dauphin. pa»k Baron Grimm 14 The Chevalier St. Lambert 16 Entrance to the Forest of Fontainebleau ,22 A Visit to Rousseau at the Hermitage 46 The Battle of Hastenbeck 88 Geneva ........ 96 Jean d'Alembert ........... 178 Diderot 220 BoussEAU IN his Last Illn£SS 278 niriquBa ddl lo §nilnw ecil moil ybujS b dzwoD ■{VT.f I n'/; ,^!fi,inr.rT invjiunntA" ?.hi;M ^o alr.n.jitr;/ 'jL)i/',(|t.,:idi<M t,fi) moil ssIIeV riooJ )o riciJosiib 3d) tsb'iu bsHqin^oJori'^ Course of Study from the writing of the Dauphin corrected by Bossuet From the Bibliutheque Nationale of Paris "Manuscrits franjais, No. 13,79?" Photographed under the direction of Leon Vallee especially for this work y:C:3 MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE OF MADAME D'fiPINAY CHAPTER XVI {continued). From M. Grimm to Madame d'Epinay. I HASTEN to thank you for your letters, my dear friend ; they have given me sincere pleasure. I should have liked to shed a torrent of tears while I read them, but I am so unhappy that neither sorrow nor joy can make me weep. Your poor friend, always surrounded by onlookers, cannot abandon himself to his feelings ; he is in a state of perpetual constraint ; you know how that suits me. You can guess how weary I feel, and attribute to that alone the feeble expression of my gratitude and affection. I did not need to be separated from you to feel that my heart is united to yours by the strongest and most indissoluble ties ; but I feel more than ever that you could replace every- thing for me, if I were allowed to live as I please. You are delighted at the favour I enjoy ; ah ! do you not see how far it removes me from you ? It will need all my cleverness to secure all the VOL. Ill I M MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE advantages offered to me. If I did not flatter myself that I should succeed, I should not speak so calmly to you about it. I admire destiny and that upon which a man's position and fortune depend. What have I done to deserve mine ? What will not many people do without being able to secure the like ? They would be happy if they could do so ; and yet I am not. My dear friend, I wait for your letters with an impatience which you can never conceive. I am uneasy about your health ; I do not know why, but I cannot convince myself that it is good. The milk diet should be commenced with the utmost precaution. I should like to reply to all your ques- tions at once ; I do not know with which to begin. Amuse yourself without injuring your health, and then I shall enjoy all your pleasures. It is impossible for me to talk to you as I should like, my dear friend ; we are in too great confusion. The courier is just starting ; I must make haste to close my parcel. If I do not have a letter to- morrow, I shall be greatly to be pitied. My re- gards, etc. From M. Grimm to Madame d'6pinay. My dear friend, you tell me nothing new about Diderot ; I guessed that he would hinder the negotiations about La Chevrette ; although he said nothing definite to me, I presumed that it was bound to be so. You see, my dear friend, how difficult it is to destroy prejudices ; however, it may come to pass, if you can take upon yourself OF MADAME D'&PINAY 3 to do nothing in the matter. Leave things alone ; time manages everything. If that honest head, which possesses such beautiful eyes, no longer worries about cleansing itself from offences of which it is innocent, it will insensibly confound its enemies. Nothing that the Baron d'Holbach has told you ought to make any alteration in your mode of life, or in the manner in which you treat each of those of whom he has spoken to you. What can they say ? It seems to me that you ought to hold the following opinion in regard to these matters : Duclos is a rascal, therefore you turned him out ; Desmahis is a madman, you need not try to cure him ; Margency may chatter, but what does it matter to me ? What can he say ? The more in- timate he becomes with you, he is bound to think better of you ; he is a very agreeable companion ; you should be on neither better nor worse terms with him. I advise you always to answer the Baron very lightly in regard to this, and to cut short the thread of his chatter ; he is very fond of talking, and that only makes mischief. Whatever reason you may have for wishing Diderot to think well of you, if he does not, so much the worse for him ; you will do admirably without him, and you will be none the worse for it. Seek your resources in yourself, my dear friend ; and who ever had more than you ? Every look that you direct towards yourself ought to beautify your existence and to make it precious to you. By treating your friends with uprightness and confidence, you I — 2 4 MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE will gather round you agreeable and honourable society, and you will derive from friendship the only advantage that one has a right to expect from it. I cannot, by -the -way, refrain from advising you to act with the greatest caution in regard to Rousseau. I have for a long time thought his behaviour towards you not quite straightforward. He does not venture to speak ill of you, but he allows others to speak disparagingly of you in his presence, and he makes no attempt to defend you. I don't like that. So my dear friend has always had an idea that I mistrusted her ? What a suspicion I You know very little of me if you think that I am a man to adopt the impressions of others when I am able to see and judge for myself. Confess that you are unjust, my friend, and believe that, if I often do not say what occupies my attention, it is not want of confidence that keeps me silent, but the fact that I am not fond of arguments or useless reflections. There is often not a word of truth in the conjectures which hope or fear makes us form ; and besides, why should we flatter ourselves with expectations or alarm ourselves prematurely ? For instance, I have more than one idea in my head for settling down near you ; but my views depend upon so many " ifs " and " buts," that I could not say anything rational to you. We must leave it to time to bring about each circum- stance, and, when the time comes, I will speak. Trust to me ; you know whether you are dear to OF MADAME UJ^PINAY 5 me or not ; destiny may vex us greatly, but it only rests with you to make me always happy. M. de Croismare's son has had the measles ; he will remain at Cambrai until he has quite re- covered. Tell the Marquis that M. de S*** has handed the money, which he intrusted to his care, to his brother. Also inform him of my feelings towards him ; they ought to be known to him. It is execrable weather here ; nothing but rain. Everything is under water. I am told that it is the usual weather in this country. I did not need this additional circumstance to make me dislike it. Adieu ! my dear and incomparable friend, I carry your image in my heart. May you be as happy as I desire I You do not know how dear you are to me, since you have suspicions of my confidence in you. Adieu ! I beg you will give my respects to Madame your mother, and em- brace the dear children for me, if Mademoiselle Pauline's dignity is not offended. I bless the Comtesse for having stopped the visit to Chantilly. From Madame d'6pinay to M. Grimm. Yesterday, when I was going to begin to write to my dear friend, I received a visit from the Com- tesse d'Houdetot. She seemed gayer and wilder than ever ; she wearied me, for I am not at all in that frame of mind. She told me I might expect to see her here on a few days' visit with Madame Blainville. I shall do all I can to avoid her, if 6 MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE possible without offending her, for her sister-in- law's kindness is heavy and unendurable. The Comtesse wishes to make the acquaintance of the Baron d'Holbach and his wife. I will have nothing to do with it. The Baroness, who knows her slightly, does not like her at all. On the other hand, if the Baron speaks to me about her, I will beg him not to be influenced in this respect by any wish to oblige me, or any feeling of regard for me; and, while praising her disposition and character, I will say nothing about the unsuit- ability of this connection. Mademoiselle le Vasseur has just been to see me. She tells me that, a few days ago, Rousseau had a fearful quarrel with M. Deleyre, and nearly turned him out of the house. His temper grows more unmanageable every day ; she declares that, since his last visit here, he spends his days and nights in tears ; she and her mother cannot under- stand the reason. He talks to himself during the night. He cried out the other day : " Poor Madame d'Epinay, if you only knew ! " No one knows what he means. He says that he is coming to stay a fortnight here, that he has a number of things to confide to me, and that he has always found himself benefited by my advice. But it seems to me incredible, although Mademoiselle le Vasseur assures me that it is true, that the Comtesse d'Houdetot visits the hermit nearly every day, and that they have been forbidden to tell me. She leaves her servants in the forest, and comes and returns alone. Little Le Vasseur is OF MADAME D'ApINAY f jealous. I myself think that either she is lying or that they have all lost their heads. The Baron came to dine and spend the day here ; it was wretched weather, and we did not leave the fireside. He is to come back to spend Easter here with his wife, and I think that that is all I shall see of them ; they have already told me that they can hardly leave Paris. I am lucky not to need them, my friend ; you see what use they are to me ! As for the Marquis de Croismare, he is in love with Mademoiselle la Grive, who sold him some maps cheap last week ; she and her collection of commonplace trifles will prevent him from coming for some time. Oh, my friend ! how fastidious you have made me ! I feel it every day. I used to be very fond of M. Margency's society, when I saw him from time to time in Paris — but, from morning till night, and tete-a-tete! I do not believe that any- one in the world but you would be able to endure such a trial. My companion's indolence is positively enervating to see ; he is never in the same mind for fifteen minutes together. If I try to talk, I do not find a single idea in his head ; at other times I discover a crowd of them, but all so mean, so utterly insignificant, that they are lost in the air before they reach the ear. He sticks like grim death to the opinion of the moment, and then, to one's utter astonishment, gives it up a quarter of an hour afterwards without being asked to do so. He begins thirty different things at once, and never keeps up one ; he is 8 MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE always delighted with what he is going to do, and tired of what he is doing ; the most sublime piece of writing only inspires him with scorn, if it unfortunately contains any expression that offends his ear. I am sure that he would not forgive the handsomest woman in the world if her hair were badly dressed. He also has an aversion for everything that smacks of the provinces. He is not wanting in penetration or cleverness, but I have never found him grasp a vigorously con- ceived idea, or one out of the common. I wanted to tell you all this ; I like him very much, but I would rather be alone, or have some companion who would unite and amalgamate his fancies with mine, which are many. Really, without this reflection, I should perhaps already have taken a dislike to him. I thank you for your explanation of your atti- tude of reserve, which I confess had worried me somewhat. I throw myself at your feet and do justice to your sublime prudence. What you say on this subject has made me laugh. It is so true and so exactly like you that it is impossible not to yield. Yes, my friend, it is not to-day for the first time that I feel that I can trust myself to your guidance without misgiving ; you inspire me more and more every day with that kind of security which is enjoyed by a child asleep on its mother's lap. Yesterday, I began to take milk in the evening ; it agrees with me admirably, and I have never felt so well in my life. Do not be in the least uneasy OP MADAME D'^PINAY 9 about me ; all my privations and my care for my health have become my chief pleasure next to that of writing to you ; but, whereas the latter is only momentary, the former is continual. In other respects, I am neither cheerful nor sad, but a trifle absent-minded and rather melancholy. Such a state has its charm, and I find it hard to forgive those who attempt to get me out of it. The picture of your life which you have drawn is always present to my mind. It is certainly I who have reason to think myself unhappy ! I am able to abandon myself to my melancholy and dejection, while you, who are always subjected to annoyance, have scarcely time to write. You only wanted this punishment, I this privation! I am going to try and find some pleasant and useful occupation for myself. I read to Pauline the paragraph in your letter in which you mention her and her brother, and ask permission to embrace her. She looked at mamma and said: "I think we may let him." ** Yes," said my mother, laughing, *' but only until he comes back." ** All right," answered Pauline, ** and then we shall see." From M. Grimm to Madame d'^pinay. The Camp «^ *** After three days' march we have halted here before continuing our journey to ***, where we shall arrive on the 30th. I am waiting to hear from you, my dear friend, and I am well. That zo MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE is all that I can tell you in my present state of confusion, surrounded as I am by people who take no interest either in you or me, and who have something else to think about. Write to me as often as you can ; I trust in you. As I had foreseen, I shall have to go through the whole campaign, without being of any service and with- out being with myself. I had written a letter to the Comtesse of C*** on this subject when I left Paris ; she showed it to the Due d'Orleans, and wrote me a reply, in accordance with the answer he gave, which drew from me tears of gratitude. We are advancing, and the enemy does not retire ; but, in spite of that, I can hardly believe that a battle will take place. There is great talk of peace, and I catch at the news with avidity. Be so kind as to send me the gazettes regularly. Believe me, my dear friend, however eagerly I desire to talk to you, it is quite impossible in the midst of fifteen people who are making a fearful racket. However, I will write to you as often as I can. When you do not hear from me, do not be uneasy, but be sure that it has been impossible for me to write. You overwhelm me by writing so regularly ; continue to do so, my dear friend, I beg of you ; your letters are my only consolation. I congratu- late you upon enjoying as you do the beauties of nature. Oh, you were born under a lucky star ! I implore you, do not miss your vocation ; it only rests with yourself to be the happiest and most adorable creature upon earth, provided that you OF MADAME D'iPINAY ii do not put the opinion of others before your own, and know how to find satisfaction in yourself alone. I am delighted to hear about your health. Oh ! if you could only continue well while I am far from you, I think I could almost console my- self for our expedition into this accursed country. We lead a tolerably hard and very magnificent life. We have left the heavy baggage at * * * ; but, in spite of that, on every march it takes three hours for the train of our indispensable necessaries to pass. This is scandalous, and I am more than ever persuaded that the world is made up of abuses which a man must be mad to attempt to remedy. I envy you your good fortune in being able to plan schemes of work ; I wish I were in the same posi- tion ; but we live three in a room, sometimes more. I dare not speak to you of my tortures any more. Adieu I my dear friend. I have already begged you, and beg you again, not to wait for my letters. I am in excellent health, and nothing, good or bad, can happen to me except through you. You do not tell me how your mother is : I assume that she is well. Give my respects to her. I have so much to say to you and so little time that I must defer it to another occasion. I am writing a few lines to M. de Margency. From Madame D'lfepiNAY to M. Grimm. I knew that M. de Jully had for a long time been endeavouring to obtain some post in the department of foreign affairs ; but, having failed to obtain what xa MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE he wanted, and apparently having some reasons for avoiding Paris, which nobody can guess, he has decided to accept the Residency at Geneva. He came yesterday to tell us. My mother and myself in vain exhausted all our efforts in representing to him that his resolution was exceedingly odd ; that he was going to expatriate himself and make him- self miserable for life, by leaving and deserting a family to which he might be indispensable, as he would be to my children, to us, to the Comtesse d'Houdetot. It was no use ; he has made up his mind to expatriate himself for a few years : so he declared to us with the obstinacy with which Heaven has endowed him. He agrees with all our arguments, and none the less adheres to his resolution. " But, my dear brother," I said to him, " if you only intend to leave Paris for a few years, why do you not travel without binding yourself to an inferior post ? " He replied, like the Comtesse de Pimbeche : " My dear sister, I want to be bound." We cannot make it out at all. What appears to me even more singular is his choice of Geneva, for he is devout even to meanness. In short, he is going to leave within two months ; but I am afraid he is taking a foolish step. Do you know what I foresee ? He will set out ; he will reside at Geneva, since he has made up his mind to do so ; he will be bored to death ; then he will return to Paris, where he will play a very insipid part after this freak, and in this manner he will lose the respect which his honourable OF MADAME D' A PI NAY 13 character and mediocrity had gained for him. It is said that it is the Marquise de Pompadour who has put this folly into his head ; what is certain is, that she openly plays the part of his patroness, and that he praises her to excess. The Comtesse d'Houdetot is deeply grieved at her brother's folly ; we all look at it in the same light. But she is still more grieved at the fact that the detachment in which the Marquis de Saint-Lambert is serving is going to Westphalia. As for myself, having exhausted my grief, I feel inclined to take men as they are, and to amuse myself at their expense. I will begin with you, my friend. Tell me, for instance, what you mean to do with the gazettes ? This request appears to me altogether fantastic. Do you want to learn what you did three weeks before ? or do you wish to read the future in them ? As I know nothing about them, I will send them to you that you may inform me what one ought to see in them. MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE CHAPTER XVII (1757). From M. Grimm to Madame D*]fepiNAY. Munster, I HAVE received no letters to-day, and have returned to the frightful solitude in which my soul will always be plunged when I no longer hear of you. Sadness, uneasiness, impatience, and weariness are my companions in this desert, and will not leave me until the moment when I shall be able to rejoin you. Oh, my dear friend, I only live for you ; my heart is closed to every other feeling but this, which absorbs it entirely. To help me to endure my absence from you, I seek in vain for the firmness and energy of which I was sometimes capable ; I can no longer find them. You pity me, and I need it greatly ; you are very generous, far more so than I believed. From the outset you appreciated my situation, and felt how painful it was for me. Your letters are full of tenderness and compassion, and my heart is touched by them. How kind you are to continue in good health ! But it seems to me that you are in a great hurry to take the milk in the evening. Do not be pre- cipitate, I beg of you ; it is one of your old faults — always to go too fast. My dear friend, Nature mmhO noiBB betters to-aav. j.nd nave Baron Grimm OF MADAME D'&PINAY 15 acts slowly and imperceptibly ; she has given you beautiful eyes ; make use of them, and act, I beg you, as she does. What you tell me about Rousseau seems to me very extraordinary, and the Comtesse d'Houdetot's mysterious visits still more so. As for him, he is a poor devil who torments himself, and does not dare to confess to himself the real source of his troubles, which is to be found in his own con- founded head and his pride. He creates for himself imaginary reasons, in order to have the pleasure of complaining of the whole human race. I trust to your prudence in dealing with the tiresome repetitions which you will doubt- less hear ; distrust your good heart, and take care of your happiness and tranquillity. I do not doubt that I count for something in all that, but it would be an insult to you to recommend my interests to you ; wherefore, my dear friend, I only speak to you of yourself. I am astonished that everybody is perpetually making mischief with Diderot. I have been his intimate friend for five years, and he is the man I love best in the world. During all that time I have not heard anything talked about. The reason is, that to make mischief it requires two people, and all these chatterers do nothing but abuse his frankness and his good faith. Yesterday I was interrupted by the arrival of the Marquis de Saint-Lambert. I spent the even- ing with him. You may guess that we said some- thing about you, but you cannot imagine my x6 MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE satisfaction at seeing a man who had just left you. It is a great consolation to me that he will be my companion during the rest of the campaign. He has spoken to me of Rousseau's injustice to- wards me. He thinks that you have long since turned his head, and that I have become his bug- bear. Is this true ? Why, then, is the Comtesse d'Houdetot so cheerful ? Has not Saint-Lambert's departure caused her any pain ? Yes, my friend, you are quite right to do with- out anyone's assistance ; that is the way to gain the lasting attachment of all the honest people round you, not to mention that, whether alone or surrounded by others, you will always be well. You are right ; the society of the Comtesse d'Houdetot does not suit the Baron and his wife at all. I hope that this fancy will pass off like many others of his we have known. Your portrait of Margency is a masterpiece; nothing could be truer, more refined or more delicate. There are certain figures that only show up well in a group ; the Syndic is one of them. I have just received two of your letters. I begin to fear that you will overtire yourself if you write so often. I ask you as a favour, my dear friend, to consider your health before everything else, and not to write volumes to me ; that heats the blood, and makes me tremble for the milk, of which you do not say a word in your last letter. I take that as a good sign. I am quite well ; except that, what do you want me to tell you of j-T5dfne^l-tnif:8 i^j^ysdO sriT l6 The Clievalier Saint'Lambert OF MADAME D'^PINAY 17 myself? Up to the present I have been of no service to M. le Mardchal. I do not know whether I ever shall be, but I have my doubts. There are twenty-eight of us secretaries ; and what the deuce can be done with philosophy and meta- physics in the army ? After this experience I hope that the Prince will feel that I must settle near him and you. Do you know that what you tell me of M. de Jully is a flash of light for me, and explains a rumour which I had heard, but which was so absurd that I could not believe it. It may, however, have been true ; but if I guess correctly, he will be rewarded according to results, and as he cannot be such as people would have him, he is a ruined man. I do not know whether what I am writing to you has common sense. I am lodged in a cursed garret, in the midst of the royal kitchen officials, who are preparing dinner for us. Believe that my heart is attached to you by the most delightful ties. I speak to you con- tinually, but I cannot write to you ; read therefore what I say to you, not what I write to you. Adieu I take care of my dear friend, I intrust her to your care with all my heart ; say to her from me all that is gentle and affectionate ; you will never say enough ; tell her above all not to grieve herself, and to meet with hope all the evils which overwhelm us. Tell me of your affairs, of your mother, of your children, of everything that interests you. VOL. Ill a i8 MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE M. Grimm had made a correct guess about M. de Jully's Residency. He was charged with a secret mission, and it had been required of him that he should pretend to desire this post in preference to all others. His mission, it was whispered, was to observe the proceedings of the King of Sardinia, and to watch what took place in Piedmont ; but the uneasiness exhibited in re- gard to this was a mere chimera, and I am per- suaded that it never existed. During M. de Jully's stay at Geneva, he never remained there for a month at a time ; he was nearly always in Switzerland, excusing himself on the ground of the curiosity with which this country inspired him ; he even, on more than one occasion, went as far as Neufchatel. A very great lady of the court, convinced that the King of Prussia would not be able to resist all the powers which were turning against him, had fixed her ambition upon becoming sovereign of Neufchatel. She was desirous of prejudicing people's minds in her favour ; but, being uncertain of the issue, she only attempted indirect negotiations, such as could not compromise her. This plan was the height of folly ; no one but M. de Jully would have lent himself to it. But Madame * * * dis- covered the secret of making it seem to him likely to succeed. As it was important to choose an honest, trustworthy man, without ambition, not important enough to give offence or to attempt to play a part without being obliged, they turned their eyes to M. de Jully, and promised to with- OF MADAME D'^PINAY 19 draw him from the post immediately after the war, and to bestow upon him the recompense he demanded. He fell into the snare, and was very lucky to get out of it without personal injury. Few people know the story. From Madame d'^pinay to M. Grimm. My dear friend, since you wish me never to leave off telling you about our domestic life, you must know that every morning we assemble as usual in the little room below, where we breakfast — my mother, the children, Linant, and myself. Soon afterwards, Linant and my son withdraw, to walk or to study. If, however, the conversation is worth their listening to it or taking part in it them- selves, they remain. The lazy Margency some- times comes down, as well as those who are a fixture with him ; but all do as they please in this matter except my children, whose duty I consider it to show this mark of respect to my mother, and to whom I am pleased to set the example. About ten o'clock everyone retires, to fill up his time in the manner he fancies. I am glad to have done with household affairs as soon as possible, and next with my toilet, which is soon made. I write to you, I work, and do not reappear in the dining- room until dinner-time. After this we play for a good hour with the children, who retire at five o'clock ; then we comment at random upon what they have said and done, what they will say, do, or think, and Margency laughs at us The other day he put the conversation between my mother 2 — 2 30 MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE and myself into verse ; it was delightful non- sense. Sometimes, very frequently, we talk of you, and that is the time when we all find ourselves agreed. What else can I tell you ? We walk, read, and sleep. Altogether our life is somewhat monotonous, but it is calm and peace- ful ; anyone who looks at it closely will see that it is just that happy life which so many people seek in vain. I have had a conversation with my daughter's governess, the subject of which was as follows, or nearly so. I have thought about it since, and I confess that I need your assistance to guide me. I was complaining that my daughter frequently assumed an air of conceit and self-importance which displeased me. Mademoiselle Durand told me that she was very proud of the notice taken of her by my friends, and of the lengthy and sen- sible conversations which they hold with her. " She is accustomed to play a part," she added ; *' she is puffed up by it. I am afraid, Madame, that this is one of the inevitable disadvantages of the plan of education which we have adopted." She is right ; I agree with her. We thereupon discussed the means of remedying this. There would be the greatest danger in making her submit to any public humiliation on our part ; she is so determined, that we can only restrain her by appealing to her sense of shame ; if we blunt this feeling, we shall have no check at all upon her. We agreed, first, to give her to understand privately that she is only taken more notice of OF MADAME D'lkPINAY %x than an ordinary child because she has shown a desire to be sensible ; but that such notice will necessarily cease if she ceases to behave properly, and becomes vain of the favour shown to her. I am certain that the word " favour " will disgust her, and I am not sorry for it. Next, I will give my friends a hint to laugh at her directly she gives herself airs of pride or importance. That seems to me the most sensible way to destroy only the excess of her pride ; but who can promise me that, on the day she receives this lesson, some in- truder will not arrive whom it will not be convenient for us to warn, and who will spoil all our efforts ? Our habit of putting no check upon her in her reading or occupations also tends to make her flighty ; it will be useful to begin to put an end to this. With this object, we have thought of reading together during the evening. At the end of two days she will ask for another book ; we will tell her that she is at liberty to go and read in her own room. You see all the answer that need be made to her, and this same pride which we wish to check will make her remain. It will be the same in regard to the work. Nothing more clearly proves the abuse of the methods of education which are not guided by the character of the child than the result, in the case of my son, of the plan adopted for my daughter. As they are both being brought up under my eyes, he cannot help sharing the con- versation and the notice which is taken of his sister, otherwise it would be an exhibition of sa MEMOIRS AND CORRESPONDENCE unjust and injurious favouritism. Now, far from being made conceited, this wearies and makes him uncomfortable, and he is far more at ease with those who treat him familiarly than with those who want to enter into conversation with him. It is true that he is less intelligent than his sister, and his mind is proportionately less formed. Rousseau hardly comes to see me at all ; he is always at the Comtesse d'Houdetot's ; he has only dined here once during the Baron's stay. The Comtesse has just arrived. She spoke to us of a tragedy, which has been a complete success ; the subject is a Greek one and very interesting ; *' but," said she, " these Greeks think and speak like Frenchmen ; the verses are per- fectly beautiful, and exactly in the style of Racine." The Syndic, when he heard this, jumped for joy. This is all your poor friend, who has retired from the world, has to tell you ; she only knows what she is told, and would not listen to anything were it not for her desire to amuse you. The following day. My husband has dropped from the clouds this morning ; I do not know where he has come from, but his chaise was covered with mud, and all to pieces, and he and his servants seemed utterly exhausted. He came up to my rooms. I re- proached him for leaving us in such a state of embarrassment. He put out his hand to me with tears in his eyes : " Do not overwhelm me, usaldanifilnuoH lo is:^-;'-^^ ^^-f-f ^^ '^^i>c:i\r1 12 Entrance to^^th^ Forest of Fountainebleau ■'pr-mm .. -:^'t^.<-'<- ^""^^i^ '}<^^i ^:--'v ■■ ' OF MADAME D'^PINAY 33 my dear friend," he said ; " I am unhappy enough already." Convinced that I had to dread some fearful accident, I felt so overcome that I hardly ven- tured to question him. However, finding that he did not utter a word, and continued to shed tears, I said : " Speak, then ; I am prepared for any- thing. I have long since foreseen " " Do not alarm yourself," he interrupted ; " my trouble only concerns myself." Would you believe that I was foolish enough not to feel calmer ? ** It must be very serious," said I ; " may I share it ? " '* Alas I you can do nothing." " Perhaps some good advice — it is sometimes important to take counsel. You know that you can count upon me." *' I know it ; I know your good heart. I have always found " ** Well, do you need any prompt assistance ; of course, you want money?" "No, my God! no , .. 