There is nothing in this world but time and misfortune, and every act of courage seems to be a crime in adversity.  For that which has been admired in Montesquieu, I received only blame and reproach.  As soon as my work was printed, and I had copies of it, I sent one to Saint Lambert, who, the evening before, had written to me in his own name and that of Madam d’ Houdetot, a note expressive of the most tender friendship.

The following is the letter he wrote to me when he returned the copy I had sent him.

Eaubonne, 10th October, 1758.

“Indeed, sir, I cannot accept the present you have just made me.  In that part of your preface where, relative to Diderot, you quote a passage from Ecclesiastes (he mistakes, it is from Ecclesiasticus) the book dropped from my hand.  In the conversations we had together in the summer, you seemed to be persuaded Diderot was not guilty of the pretended indiscretions you had imputed to him.  You may, for aught I know to the contrary, have reason to complain of him, but this does not give you a right to insult him publicly.  You are not unacquainted with the nature of the persecutions he suffers, and you join the voice of an old friend to that of envy.  I cannot refrain from telling you, sir, how much this heinous act of yours has shocked me.  I am not acquainted with Diderot, but I honor him, and I have a lively sense of the pain you give to a man, whom, at least not in my hearing, you have never reproached with anything more than a trifling weakness.  You and I, sir, differ too much in our principles ever to be agreeable to each other.  Forget that I exist; this you will easily do.  I have never done to men either good or evil of a nature to be long remembered.  I promise you, sir, to forget your person and to remember nothing relative to you but your talents.”

This letter filled me with indignation and affliction; and, in the excess of my pangs, feeling my pride wounded, I answered him by the following note: 

MONTMORUNCY, 11th October, 1758.

“Sir:  While reading your letter, I did you the honor to be surprised at it, and had the weakness to suffer it to affect me; but I find it unworthy of an answer.

“I will no longer continue the copies of Madam d’Houdetot.  If it be not agreeable to her to keep that she has, she may sent it me back and I will return her money.  If she keeps it, she must still send for the rest of her paper and the money; and at the same time I beg she will return me the prospectus which she has in her possession.  Adieu, sir.”

Courage under misfortune irritates the hearts of cowards, but it is pleasing to generous minds.  This note seemed to make Saint Lambert reflect with himself and to regret his having been so violent; but too haughty in his turn to make open advances, he seized and perhaps prepared, the opportunity of palliating what he had done.

A fortnight afterwards I received from Madam d’Epinay the following letter: