she might easily have done without, but
the fear of losing what I already gave her, should I think ill of the
step she took. Although this charity appeared to be very extraordinary,
it did not strike me so much then as afterwards. But had I known even
everything I have since discovered, I should still as readily have given
my consent as I did and was obliged to do, unless I had exceeded the
offer of M. Grimm. Father Berthier afterwards cured me a little of my
opinion of his good nature and cordiality, with which I had so
unthinkingly charged him.

This same Father Berthier was acquainted with two men, who, for what
reason I know not, were to become so with me; there was but little
similarity between their taste and mine. They were the children of
Melchisedec, of whom neither the country nor the family was known, no
more than, in all probability, the real name. They were Jansenists, and
passed for priests in disguise, perhaps on account of their ridiculous
manner of wearing long swords, to which they appeared to have been
fastened. The prodigious mystery in all their proceedings gave them the
appearance of the heads of a party, and I never had the least doubt of
their being the authors of the 'Gazette Ecclesiastique'. The one, tall,
smooth-tongued, and sharping, was named Ferrand; the other, short, squat,
a sneerer, and punctilious, was a M. Minard. They called each other
cousin. They lodged at Paris with D'Alembert, in the house of his nurse
named Madam Rousseau, and had taken at Montmorency a little apartment to
pass the summers there. They did everything for themselves, and had
neither a servant nor runner; each had his turn weekly to purchase
provisions, do the business of the kitchen, and sweep the house. They
managed tolerably well, and we sometimes ate with each other. I know not
for what reason they gave themselves any concern about me: for my part,
my only motive for beginning an acquaintance with them was their playing
at chess, and to make a poor little party I suffered four hours' fatigue.
As they thrust themselves into all companies, and wished to intermeddle
in everything, Theresa called them the gossips, and by this name they
were long known at Montmorency.

Such, with my host M. Mathas, who was a good man, were my principal
country acquaintance. I still had a sufficient number at Paris to live
there agreeably whenever I chose it, out of the sphere of men of letters,
amongst whom Duclos, was