herwise.

At the beginning of the winter I received an additional mark of the
goodness of M. de Malesherbes of which I was very sensible, although I
did not think proper to take advantage of it. A place was vacant in the
'Journal des Savans'. Margency wrote to me, proposing to me the place,
as from himself. But I easily perceived from the manner of the letter
that he was dictated to and authorized; he afterwards told me he had been
desired to make me the offer. The occupations of this place were but
trifling. All I should have had to do would have been to make two
abstracts a month, from the books brought to me for that purpose, without
being under the necessity of going once to Paris, not even to pay the
magistrate a visit of thanks. By this employment I should have entered a
society of men of letters of the first merit; M. de Mairan, Clairaut, De
Guignes and the Abbe Barthelemi, with the first two of whom I had already
made an acquaintance, and that of the two others was very desirable. In
fine, for this trifling employment, the duties of which I might so
commodiously have discharged, there was a salary of eight hundred livres
(thirty-three pounds); I was for a few hours undecided, and this from a
fear of making Margency angry and displeasing M. de Malesherbes. But at
length the insupportable constraint of not having it in my power to work
when I thought proper, and to be commanded by time; and moreover the
certainty of badly performing the functions with which I was to charge
myself, prevailed over everything, and determined me to refuse a place
for which I was unfit. I knew that my whole talent consisted in a
certain warmth of mind with respect to the subjects of what I had to
treat, and that nothing but the love of that which was great, beautiful
and sublime, could animate my genius. What would the subjects of the
extracts I should have had to make from books, or even the books
themselves, have signified to me? My indifference about them would have
frozen my pen, and stupefied my mind. People thought I could make a
trade of writing, as most of the other men of letters did, instead of
which I never could write but from the warmth of imagination. This
certainly was not necessary for the 'Journal des Savans'. I therefore
wrote to Margency a letter of thanks, in the politest terms possible, and
so well explained to him my reasons, that it was not possible that either
he or M. de Malesherbes could imagine t