that only a few
trifling little circumstances and incidents were wanting to make me a
perfect sage. And here I must note a circumstance which my readers may
scarcely believe, but which, for all that, is quite true-namely, that I
have always preferred virtue to vice, and that when I sinned I did so out
of mere lightness of heart, for which, no doubt, I shall be blamed by
many persons. But, no matter--a man has only to give an account of his
actions to two beings, to himself here and to God hereafter.

At Wolfenbuttel I gathered a good many hints on the "Iliad" and
"Odyssey," which will not be found in any commentator, and of which the
great Pope knew nothing. Some of these considerations will be found in my
translation of the "Iliad," the rest are still in manuscript, and will
probably never see the light. However, I burn nothing, not even these
Memoirs, though I often think of doing so, but the time never comes.

At the end of the week I returned to the same inn at Brunswick which I
had occupied before, and let my godson Daturi know of my arrival.

I was delighted to hear that no one suspected that I had spent the
fortnight within five leagues of Brunswick. Daturi told me that the
general belief was that I had returned the Jew his money and got the bill
of exchange back. Nevertheless I felt sure that the bill had been
honoured at Amsterdam, and that the duke knew that I had been staying at
Wolfenbuttel.

Daturi told me that Nicolini was expecting to see me at dinner, and I was
not astonished to hear of it, for I had not taken leave of anyone. I
accordingly went, and the following incident, which served to justify me
in the eyes of all men, took place:

We were at the roast when one of the prince's servants came in with the
Jew I had beaten. The poor man came up humbly to me, and spoke as
follows:

"I am ordered to come here, sir, to apologize for suspecting the
authenticity of the bill of exchange you gave me. I have been punished by
being fined the amount of my commission."

"I wish that had been your only punishment," said I.

He made me a profound bow, and went out, saying that I was only too good.

When I 'got back to the inn, I found a letter from Redegonde in which she
reproached me tenderly for not having been once to see her all the time I
had been at Brunswick, and begging me to breakfast with her in a little
country house.

"I shall not be in my mother's company," she added, "but in that of a
young