derick, I would gladly be D'Alembert. I
will not love him less because he has refused my offer. Ah, it is a real
pleasure to know that there are still men who are independent enough
to exercise their will and judgment in opposition to the king. Princes
would be more noble, if those with whom they associated were not so
miserable and shallow-hearted. D'Alembert shall be a lesson and a
consolation to me; there are still men who are not deceivers and
flatterers, fools and betrayers, but really men."

He carefully refolded the letter, and, before placing it in his
portfolio, nodded to it as pleasantly as if it had been D'Alembert
himself. He then took another letter.

"I do not recognize this writing," he said, as he examined the address.
"It is from Switzerland, and is directed to me personally. From whom is
it?"

He opened the letter, and glanced first at the signature.

"Ah," he said, "from Jean Jacques Rousseau! I promised him an asylum.
The free Switzers persecuted the unhappy philosopher, and my good Lord
Marshal prayed my assistance for him. Lord Marshal is now in Scotland,
and it will not benefit him to have his friend here. Well, perhaps it
may lead to his return, if he hopes to find Rousseau here. I must see
what the philosopher says."

The letter contained only a few lines, which the king read with utter
astonishment. "Vraiment!" he exclaimed; "philosophers all belong to
the devil. This Jean Jacques does not content himself with declining my
offer, but he does it in an unheard-of manner. This is a work of art; I
must read it again."

The king read aloud in a most pathetic voice: "Votre majeste m'offre un
asyle, et m'y prome la liberte; mais vous avez une epee, et vous etes
roi. Vous m'offrez une pension, a moi, qui n'a rien fait pour vous. Mais
en avez-vous donne a tous les braves gens qui ont perdu bras et jambes
en vos services?"

"Well," said the king, laughing, "if being a ruffian makes one a
philosopher, Jean Jacques Rousseau deserves to be called the greatest
philosopher in the world. Truly, Fortune is playing curious pranks with
me to-day, and seems determined to lower my royal pride. Two refusals
at one time; two philosophers who decline my invitation. No, not two
philosophers--D'Alembert is a philosopher, but Rousseau is in truth a
fool."

He tore this letter, and threw the pieces in the fire. He then seized
another letter, but laid it down again before opening it. He had heard
the great clock