reat a
degree perhaps as it has ever done in that of any other man. I composed
the discourse in a very singular manner, and in that style which I have
always followed in my other works. I dedicated to it the hours of the
night in which sleep deserted me, I meditated in my bed with my eyes
closed, and in my mind turned over and over again my periods with
incredible labor and care; the moment they were finished to my
satisfaction, I deposited them in my memory, until I had an opportunity
of committing them to paper; but the time of rising and putting on my
clothes made me lose everything, and when I took up my pen I recollected
but little of what I had composed. I made Madam le Vasseur my secretary;
I had lodged her with her daughter, and husband, nearer to myself; and
she, to save me the expense of a servant, came every morning to make my
fire, and to do such other little things as were necessary. As soon as
she arrived I dictated to her while in bed what I had composed in the
night, and this method, which for a long time I observed, preserved me
many things I should otherwise have forgotten.

As soon as the discourse was finished, I showed it to Diderot. He was
satisfied with the production, and pointed out some corrections he
thought necessary to be made.

However, this composition, full of force and fire, absolutely wants logic
and order; of all the works I ever wrote, this is the weakest in
reasoning, and the most devoid of number and harmony. With whatever
talent a man may be born, the art of writing is not easily learned.

I sent off this piece without mentioning it to anybody, except, I think,
to Grimm, with whom, after his going to live with the Comte de Vriese, I
began to be upon the most intimate footing. His harpsichord served as a
rendezvous, and I passed with him at it all the moments I had to spare,
in singing Italian airs, and barcaroles; sometimes without intermission,
from morning till night, or rather from night until morning; and when I
was not to be found at Madam Dupin's, everybody concluded I was with
Grimm at his apartment, the public walk, or theatre. I left off going to
the Comedie Italienne, of which I was free, to go with him, and pay, to
the Comedie Francoise, of which he was passionately fond. In short, so
powerful an attraction connected me with this young man, and I became so
inseparable from him, that the poor aunt herself was rather neglected,
that is, I saw her less frequently