ad made it public, that this rumor, having
reached the ears of her lover, had nearly cost him his life; yet he did
her justice, and peace was restored between them; but on his account, as
well as on hers, and for the sake of her reputation, she thought it her
duty to break off all correspondence with me, at the same time assuring
me that she and her friend were both interested in my welfare, that they
would defend me to the public, and that she herself would, from time to
time, send to inquire after my health.

"And thou also, Diderot," exclaimed I, "unworthy friend!"

I could not, however, yet resolve to condemn him. My weakness was known
to others who might have spoken of it. I wished to doubt, but this was
soon out of my power. Saint Lambert shortly after performed an action
worthy of himself. Knowing my manner of thinking, he judged of the state
in which I must be; betrayed by one part of my friends and forsaken by
the other. He came to see me. The first time he had not many moments to
spare. He came again. Unfortunately, not expecting him, I was not at
home. Theresa had with him a conversation of upwards of two hours, in
which they informed each other of facts of great importance to us all.
The surprise with which I learned that nobody doubted of my having lived
with Madam d'Epinay, as Grimm then did, cannot be equalled, except by
that of Saint Lambert, when he was convinced that the rumor was false.
He, to the great dissatisfaction of the lady, was in the same situation
with myself, and the eclaircissements resulting from the conversation
removed from me all regret, on account of my having broken with her
forever. Relative to Madam d'Houdetot, he mentioned several
circumstances with which neither Theresa nor Madam d'Houdetot herself
were acquainted; these were known to me only in the first instance, and I
had never mentioned them except to Diderot, under the seal of friendship;
and it was to Saint Lambert himself to whom he had chosen to communicate
them. This last step was sufficient to determine me. I resolved to
break with Diderot forever, and this without further deliberation, except
on the manner of doing it; for I had perceived secret ruptures turned to
my prejudice, because they left the mask of friendship in possession of
my most cruel enemies.

The rules of good breeding, established in the world on this head, seem
to have been dictated by a spirit of treachery and falsehood. To appear
the