silliest of men. His wife is better than he ; but the absorp-
tion she has in herself absorbs all her faculties. On the
whole, they are persons whose real merit is to have a good
cook. How many people of whom the world speaks well
have no other value ! No, the human species is not wicked ;
it is only silly, and in Paris it is as vain and frivolous as it
is silly; but no matter, provided what one loves is kind,
amiable, and excellent.
Ah ! if you knew what amuses and attracts the public ! — a tragedy by M. Dorat (devoid of wit, interest, and talent), and next a comedy by M. Dorat, which is a masterpiece of bad taste and bad style ; it is an unintelligible jargon. The applause given to it really saddened me the other day; it is enough to discourage talent.
Sunday, August 15, 1773.
Listen to me, and once for all believe that I cannot wrong you, and you know why I cannot wrong you. I have not been negligent ; this is my fifth letter since July 3d. I do not see why you had not received mine of July 15th on the 3d of August. I cannot endure the irregularities of the post ; they are the torment of my life ; but you surprise me, you, by attaching such importance to my letters. How could you have the idea that I meant to harass you ? Punish you ? — and for what ? Supposing, what is assuredly not so, that I were dissatisfied with your friendship, have I the right to complain of it ? Would it not be the height of imperti- nence to imagine that the loss of my letters was a painful privation to you ? If I tell you that I am not so foolishly vain as most women, you are not obliged to believe me ; but know me better and you will find that I receive as a favour that which is given me ; that I enjoy it with feeling, and respond to it with all the tenderness and sincerity of my soul ; but never do I feel myself prompted by the sort of
