that of Saint Lambert, when he was convinced that the rumor was false.
He, to the great dissatisfaction of the lady, was in the same situation
with myself, and the eclaircissements resulting from the conversation
removed from me all regret, on account of my having broken with her
forever. Relative to Madam d'Houdetot, he mentioned several
circumstances with which neither Theresa nor Madam d'Houdetot herself
were acquainted; these were known to me only in the first instance, and I
had never mentioned them except to Diderot, under the seal of friendship;
and it was to Saint Lambert himself to whom he had chosen to communicate
them. This last step was sufficient to determine me. I resolved to
break with Diderot forever, and this without further deliberation, except
on the manner of doing it; for I had perceived secret ruptures turned to
my prejudice, because they left the mask of friendship in possession of
my most cruel enemies.

The rules of good breeding, established in the world on this head, seem
to have been dictated by a spirit of treachery and falsehood. To appear
the friend of a man when in reality we are no longer so, is to reserve to
ourselves the means of doing him an injury by surprising honest men into
an error. I recollected that when the illustrious Montesquieu broke with
Father de Tournemine, he immediately said to everybody: "Listen neither
to Father Tournemine nor myself, when we speak of each other, for we are
no longer friends." This open and generous proceeding was universally
applauded. I resolved to follow the example with Diderot; but what
method was I to take to publish the rupture authentically from my
retreat, and yet without scandal? I concluded on inserting in the form
of a note, in my work, a passage from the book of Ecclesiasticus, which
declared the rupture and even the subject of it, in terms sufficiently
clear to such as were acquainted with the previous circumstances, but
could signify nothing to the rest of the world. I determined not to