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