looked upon the valley and the pond of Montmorency, and presented to me,
as the closing point of a prospect, the plain but respectable castle of
St. Gratien, the retreat of the virtuous Catinat. It was in this place,
then, exposed to freezing cold, that without being sheltered from the
wind and snow, and having no other fire than that in my heart; I
composed, in the space of three weeks, my letter to D'Alembert on
theatres. It was in this, for my 'Eloisa' was not then half written,
that I found charms in philosophical labor. Until then virtuous
indignation had been a substitute to Apollo, tenderness and a gentleness
of mind now became so. The injustice I had been witness to had irritated
me, that of which I became the object rendered me melancholy; and this
melancholy without bitterness was that of a heart too tender and
affectionate, and which, deceived by those in whom it had confided, was
obliged to remain concentred. Full of that which had befallen me, and
still affected by so many violent emotions, my heart added the sentiment
of its sufferings to the ideas with which a meditation on my subject had
inspired me; what I wrote bore evident marks of this mixture. Without
perceiving it I described the situation I was then in, gave portraits of
Grimm, Madam d'Epinay, Madam d' Houdetot, Saint Lambert and myself. What
delicious tears did I shed as I wrote! Alas! in these descriptions
there are proofs but too evident that love, the fatal love of which I
made such efforts to cure myself, still remained in my heart. With all
this there was a certain sentiment of tenderness relative to myself; I
thought I was dying, and imagined I bid the public my last adieu. Far
from fearing death, I joyfully saw it approach; but I felt some regret at
leaving my fellow creatures without their having perceived my real merit,
and being convinced how much I should have deserved their esteem had they
known me better. These are the secret causes of the singular manner in
which this work, opposite to that of the work by which it was preceded,
is written.--[Discours sur l'Inegalite. Discourse on the Inequality of
Mankind.]

I corrected and copied the letter, and was preparing to print it when,
after a long silence, I received one from Madam d'Houdetot, which brought
upon me a new affliction more painful than any I had yet suffered. She
informed me that my passion for her was known to all Paris, that I had
spoken of it to persons who h