ve what
is due to you on your return to France."

M. de Choiseul deceived me, for he knew very well that peace would not be
made; but I had no definite project, and I repented of having given M. de
Boulogne my confidence, and also of having done anything for the
Government, the reward of which was not immediate and certain.

I sold my horses, my carriages, my furniture; I went bail for my brother
who had contracted debts he was sure of paying, as he had several
pictures on the easel which he had been ordered to paint by some of his
rich and noble patrons. I took leave of Manon, whom I left in floods of
tears, though I swore with the utmost sincerity to come back soon and
marry her.

At last all my preparations were finished, and I left Paris with a
hundred thousand francs in bills of exchange and jewels to the same
amount. I was alone in my post-chaise, Le Duc preceding me on horseback,
which the rascal preferred to being shut up in a carriage.

This Le Duc of mine was a Spaniard, aged eighteen, a sharp fellow, whom I
valued highly, especially because he did my hair better than anyone else.
I never refused him a pleasure which a little money would buy. Besides
him I had a good Swiss servant, who served as my courier.

It was the 1st of December, 1759, and the air was frosty, but I was
fortified against the inclemency of the season. I was able to read
comfortably, and I took Helvetius's "Esprit," which I had never had time
to read before. After perusing it I was equally astonished at the
sensation it created and at the stupidity of the High Court which
condemned it. Of course that exalted body was largely influenced by the
king and the clergy, and between them all no effort was spared to ruin
Helvetius, a good-hearted man with more wit than his book. I saw nothing
novel either in the historical part relating to the morals of nations (in
which Helvetius dismisses us as triflers), or in the position that
morality is dependent on the reason. All that he says has been said over
and over again, and Blaise Pascal went much farther, but he wrote more
skilfully and better in every way than Helvetius, who, wishing to remain
in France, was obliged to retract. He preferred a quiet life to his
honour and his philosophy. His wife had a nobler soul than he, as she
wanted to sell all they had, and to take refuge in Holland rather than
submit to the shame of a recantation. Perhaps Helvetius would have
followed the noble advice of h