After my journey to Geneva, I conceived a friendship for Moulton; this young man pleased me, and I could have wished him to receive my last breath.  I expressed to him this desire, and am of opinion he would readily have complied with it, had not his affairs prevented him from so doing.  Deprived of this consolation, I still wished to give him a mark of my confidence by sending him the ’Profession of Faith of the Savoyard Vicar’ before it was published.  He was pleased with the work, but did not in his answer seem so fully to expect from it the effect of which I had but little doubt.  He wished to receive from me some fragment which I had not given to anybody else.  I sent him the funeral oration of the late Duke of Orleans; this I had written for the Abbe Darty, who had not pronounced it, because, contrary to his expectation, another person was appointed to perform that ceremony.

The printing of Emilius, after having been again taken in hand, was continued and completed without much difficulty; and I remarked this singularity, that after the curtailings so much insisted upon in the first two volumes, the last two were passed over without an objection, and their contents did not delay the publication for a moment.  I had, however, some uneasiness which I must not pass over in silence.  After having been afraid of the Jesuits, I begun to fear the Jansenists and philosophers.  An enemy to party, faction and cabal, I never heard the least good of parties concerned in them.  The gossips had quitted their old abode and taken up their residence by the side of me, so that in their chamber, everything said in mine, and upon the terrace, was distinctly heard; and from their garden it would have been easy to scale the low wall by which it was separated from my alcove.  This was become my study; my table was covered with proofsheets of Emilius and the Social Contract and stitching these sheets as they were sent to me, I had all my volumes a long time before they were published.  My negligence and the confidence I had in M. Mathas, in whose garden I was shut up, frequently made me forget to lock the door at night, and in the morning I several times found it wide open; this, however, would not have given me the least inquietude had I not thought my papers seemed to have been deranged.  After having several times made the same remark, I became more careful, and locked the door.  The lock was a bad one, and the key turned in it no more than half round.  As I became more attentive, I found my papers in a much greater confusion than they were when I left everything open.  At length I missed one of my volumes without knowing what was become of it until the morning of the third day, when I again found it upon the table.  I never suspected either M. Mathas or his nephew M. du Moulin, knowing myself to be beloved by both, and my confidence in them was unbounded.  That I had in the gossips began to diminish.  Although they were Jansenists, I knew them to have