Book X

The extraordinary degree of strength a momentary effervescence had given
me to quit the Hermitage, left me the moment I was out of it. I was
scarcely established in my new habitation before I frequently suffered
from retentions, which were accompanied by a new complaint; that of a
rupture, from which I had for some time, without knowing what it was,
felt great inconvenience. I soon was reduced to the most cruel state.
The physician Thieiry, my old friend, came to see me, and made me
acquainted with my situation. The sight of all the apparatus of the
infirmities of years, made me severely feel that when the body is no
longer young, the heart is not so with impunity. The fine season did not
restore me, and I passed the whole year, 1758, in a state of languor,
which made me think I was almost at the end of my career. I saw, with
impatience, the closing scene approach. Recovered from the chimeras of
friendship, and detached from everything which had rendered life
desirable to me, I saw nothing more in it that could make it agreeable;
all I perceived was wretchedness and misery, which prevented me from
enjoying myself. I sighed after the moment when I was to be free and
escape from my enemies. But I must follow the order of events.

My retreat to Montmorency seemed to disconcert Madam d'Epinay; probably
she did not expect it. My melancholy situation, the severity of the
season, the general dereliction of me by my friends, all made her and
Grimm believe, that by driving me to the last extremity, they should
oblige me to implore mercy, and thus, by vile meanness, render myself
contemptible, to be suffered to remain in an asylum which honor commanded
me to leave. I left it so suddenly that they had not time to prevent the
step from being taken, and they were reduced to the alternative of double
or quit, to endeavor to ruin me entirely, or to prevail upon me to
return. Grimm chose the former; but I am of opinion Madam d'Epinay would
have preferred the latter, and this from her answer to my last letter,
in which she seemed to have laid aside the airs she had given herself in
the preceding ones, and to give an opening to an accommodation. The long
delay of this answer, for which she made me wait a whole month,
sufficiently indicates the difficulty she found in giving it a proper
turn, and the deliberations by which it was preceded. She could not make
any further advances without exposing herself; but after her former
letters, and my sudden retreat from her house, it is impossible not to be
struck with the care she takes in this letter not to suffer an offensive
expression to escape her. I will copy it at length to enable my reader
to judge of what she wrote:

GENEVA, January 17, 1758.

"SIR: I did not