tone to the Neapolitan ambassador [Caraccioli]; this made him angry, and he told her that when people criticised they ought to quote honestly, and by changing the words of the speech he thought her criticism as unjust as it was severe. Mme. de Luxembourg and Mme. de Beauvau, before whom this occurred and who were against Mme. du Deffand, asked the ambassador for a copy of the actual remark; he promised it; then he came and told me the whole of this silly dispute, and I own that the pleasure of confounding Mme. du Deffand made me yield to his request. I copied the three lines for him and he went off triumphant. Mme. du Deffand was confounded; at any rate she dared no longer disparage that which everybody else thought charming. Until then, there had been no question to whom you had written it. She now took it into her head to ask that question; the ambassador refused to reply, and this increased her curiosity. Finally, he said it was written to me, and added: "No doubt it was a presentiment that made you condemn a saying so full of wit and grace."—There's a long tale; I should have told you earlier, but it seemed to me rather paltry to send a thousand leagues. I must add that the ambassador brought the copy back to me, and I burned it. Just see what silly things occupy these people of the world! what empty minds it proves! Yes, unhappiness is good for something; it corrects the little passions which agitate the idle and the corrupt. Ah! if they could only love they would all become good.
You can see, now, whether I was guilty of indiscretion. If you say I was, I shall believe it; but do not tell me that people will think "we write to each other to say witty things." Ah! what matter to us if fools and malicious people think so? They are strong only when they are feared; I hate and flee them, but I fear them no longer. For sev-
