speak in my work of the friend whom I renounced, except with the honor
always due to extinguished friendship. The whole may be seen in the work
itself.

There is nothing in this world but time and misfortune, and every act of
courage seems to be a crime in adversity. For that which has been
admired in Montesquieu, I received only blame and reproach. As soon as
my work was printed, and I had copies of it, I sent one to Saint Lambert,
who, the evening before, had written to me in his own name and that of
Madam d' Houdetot, a note expressive of the most tender friendship.

The following is the letter he wrote to me when he returned the copy I
had sent him.

EAUBONNE, 10th October, 1758.

"Indeed, sir, I cannot accept the present you have just made me. In that
part of your preface where, relative to Diderot, you quote a passage from
Ecclesiastes (he mistakes, it is from Ecclesiasticus) the book dropped
from my hand. In the conversations we had together in the summer, you
seemed to be persuaded Diderot was not guilty of the pretended
indiscretions you had imputed to him. You may, for aught I know to the
contrary, have reason to complain of him, but this does not give you a
right to insult him publicly. You are not unacquainted with the nature
of the persecutions he suffers, and you join the voice of an old friend
to that of envy. I cannot refrain from telling you, sir, how much this
heinous act of yours has shocked me. I am not acquainted with Diderot,
but I honor him, and I have a lively sense of the pain you give to a man,
whom, at least not in my hearing, you have never reproached with anything
more than a trifling weakness. You and I, sir, differ too much in our