f I know you well, must
have given you much pain, has been mentioned to me."

The last two expressions of this letter want explanation.

Soon after I went to reside at the Hermitage, Madam le Vasseur seemed
dissatisfied with her situation, and to think the habitation too retired.
Having heard she had expressed her dislike to the place, I offered to
send her back to Paris, if that were more agreeable to her; to pay her
lodging, and to have the same care taken of her as if she remained with
me. She rejected my offer, assured me she was very well satisfied with
the Hermitage, and that the country air was of service to her. This was
evident, for, if I may so speak, she seemed to become young again, and
enjoyed better health than at Paris. Her daughter told me her mother
would, on the whole, had been very sorry to quit the Hermitage, which was
really a very delightful abode, being fond of the little amusements of
the garden and the care of the fruit of which she had the handling, but
that she had said, what she had been desired to say, to induce me to
return to Paris.

Failing in this attempt they endeavored to obtain by a scruple the effect
which complaisance had not produced, and construed into a crime my
keeping the old woman at a distance from the succors of which, at her
age, she might be in need. They did not recollect that she, and many
other old people, whose lives were prolonged by the air of the country,
might obtain these succors at Montmorency, near to which I lived; as if
there were no old people, except in Paris, and that it was impossible for
them to live in any other place. Madam le Vasseur who eat a great deal,
and with extreme voracity, was subject to overflowings of bile and to
strong diarrhoeas, which lasted several days, and served her instead of
clysters. At Paris she neither did nor took anything for them, but left
nature to itself. She observed the same rule at the Hermitage, knowing
it was the best thing she could do. No matter, since there were not in
the country either physicians or apothecaries, keeping her there must, no
doubt, be with the desire of putting an end to her existence, although
she was in perfect health. Diderot should have determined at what age,
under pain of being punished for homicide, it is no longer permitted to
let old people remain out of Paris.

This was one of the atrocious accusations from which he did not except me
in his remark; that none but the wicked were