There must have been a natural opposition between her turn of mind and mine, since, independently of the numerous stupid things which at every instant escaped me in conversation, and even in my letters, and when I was upon the best terms with her, there were certain other things with which she was displeased without my being able to imagine the reason.  I will quote one instance from among twenty.  She knew I was writing for Madam d’Houdetot a copy of the New Eloisa.  She was desirous to have one on the same footing.  This I promised her, and thereby making her one of my customers, I wrote her a polite letter upon the subject, at least such was my intention.  Her answer, which was as follows, stupefied me with surprise.

Versailles, Tuesday.

“I am ravished, I am satisfied:  your letter has given me infinite pleasure, and I take the earliest moment to acquaint you with, and thank you for it.

“These are the exact words of your letter:  ’Although you are certainly a very good customer, I have some pain in receiving your money:  according to regular order I ought to pay for the pleasure I should have in working for you.’  I will say nothing more on the subject.  I have to complain of your not speaking of your state of health:  nothing interests me more.  I love you with all my heart:  and be assured that I write this to you in a very melancholy mood, for I should have much pleasure in telling it to you myself.  M. de Luxembourg loves and embraces you with all his heart.

“On receiving the letter I hastened to answer it, reserving to myself more fully to examine the matter, protesting against all disobliging interpretation, and after having given several days to this examination with an inquietude which may easily be conceived, and still without being able to discover in what I could have erred, what follows was my final answer on the subject.

“Montmorency, 8th December, 1759.

“Since my last letter I have examined a hundred times the passage in question.  I have considered it in its proper and natural meaning, as well as in every other which may be given to it, and I confess to you, madam, that I know not whether it be I who owe to you excuses, or you from whom they are due to me.”

It is now ten years since these letters were written.  I have since that time frequently thought of the subject of them; and such is still my stupidity that I have hitherto been unable to discover what in the passages, quoted from my letter, she could find offensive, or even displeasing.

I must here mention, relative to the manuscript copy of Eloisa Madam de Luxembourg wished to have, in what manner I thought to give it some marked advantage which should distinguish it from all others.  I had written separately the adventures of Lord Edward, and had long been undetermined whether I should insert them wholly, or in extracts, in the work in which they seemed to be wanting.  I at length determined