I stated in it, in a single passage, what I thought of preceding ministers, and of him by whom they began to be eclipsed.  On this occasion I acted contrary to my most constant maxim; and besides, I did not recollect that, in bestowing praise and strongly censuring in the same article, without naming the persons, the language must be so appropriated to those to whom it is applicable, that the most ticklish pride cannot find in it the least thing equivocal.  I was in this respect in such an imprudent security, that I never once thought it was possible any one should make a false application.  It will soon appear whether or not I was right.

One of my misfortunes was always to be connected with some female author.  This I thought I might avoid amongst the great.  I was deceived; it still pursued me.  Madam de Luxembourg was not, however; at least that I know of, attacked with the mania of writing; but Madam de Boufflers was.  She wrote a tragedy in prose, which, in the first place, was read, handed about, and highly spoken of in the society of the Prince Conti, and upon which, not satisfied with the encomiums she received, she would absolutely consult me for the purpose of having mine.  This she obtained, but with that moderation which the work deserved.  She besides had with it the information I thought it my duty to give her, that her piece, entitled ‘L’Esclave Genereux’, greatly resembled the English tragedy of ‘Oroonoko’, but little known in France, although translated into the French language.  Madam de Bouffiers thanked me for the remark, but, however, assured me there was not the least resemblance between her piece and the other.  I never spoke of the plagiarisms except to herself, and I did it to discharge a duty she had imposed on me; but this has not since prevented me from frequently recollecting the consequences of the sincerity of Gil Blas to the preaching archbishop.

Besides the Abbe de Bouffiers, by whom I was not beloved, and Madam de Bouffiers, in whose opinion I was guilty of that which neither women nor authors ever pardon, the other friends of Madam de Luxembourg never seemed much disposed to become mine, particularly the President Henault, who, enrolled amongst authors, was not exempt from their weaknesses; also Madam du Deffand, and Mademoiselle de Lespinasse, both intimate with Voltaire and the friends of D’Alembert, with whom the latter at length lived, however upon an honorable footing, for it cannot be understood I mean otherwise.  I first began to interest myself for Madam du Deffand, whom the loss of her eyes made an object of commiseration in mine; but her manner of living so contrary to my own, that her hour of going to bed was almost mine for rising; her unbounded passion for low wit, the importance she gave to every kind of printed trash, either complimentary or abusive, the despotism and transports of her oracles, her excessive admiration or dislike of everything, which did not permit her