tell her it was two o’clock.  “There is yet no hurry,” replied the princess, still reading on.  Some time afterwards, her watch having stopped, she rang to know the hour.  She was told it was four o’clock.  “That being the case,” she said, “it is too late to go to the ball; let the horses be taken off.”  She undressed herself and passed the rest of the night in reading.

Ever since I came to the knowledge of this circumstance, I have had a constant desire to see the lady, not only to know from herself whether or not what I have related be exactly true, but because I have always thought it impossible to be interested in so lively a manner in the happiness of Julia, without having that sixth and moral sense with which so few hearts are endowed, and without which no person whatever can understand the sentiments of mine.

What rendered the women so favorable to me was, their being persuaded that I had written my own history, and was myself the hero of the romance.  This opinion was so firmly established, that Madam de Polignac wrote to Madam de Verdelin, begging she would prevail upon me to show her the portrait of Julia.  Everybody thought it was impossible so strongly to express sentiments without having felt them, or thus to describe the transports of love, unless immediately from the feelings of the heart.  This was true, and I certainly wrote the novel during the time my imagination was inflamed to ecstasy; but they who thought real objects necessary to this effect were deceived, and far from conceiving to what a degree I can at will produce it for imaginary beings.  Without Madam d’Houdetot, and the recollection of a few circumstances in my youth, the amours I have felt and described would have been with fairy nymphs.  I was unwilling either to confirm or destroy an error which was advantageous to me.  The reader may see in the preface a dialogue, which I had printed separately, in what manner I left the public in suspense.  Rigorous people say, I ought to have explicity declared the truth.  For my part I see no reason for this, nor anything that could oblige me to it, and am of opinion there would have been more folly than candor in the declaration without necessity.

Much about the same time the ‘Paix Perpetuelle’ made its appearance, of this I had the year before given the manuscript to a certain M. de Bastide, the author of a journal called Le Monde, into which he would at all events cram all my manuscripts.  He was known to M. Duclos, and came in his name to beg I would help him to fill the Monde.  He had heard speak of Eloisa, and would have me put this into his journal; he was also desirous of making the same use of Emilius; he would have asked me for the Social Contract for the same purpose, had he suspected it to be written.  At length, fatigued with his importunities, I resolved upon letting him have the Paix Perpetuelle, which I gave him for twelve louis.  Our agreement was, that he should print it in his journal;