Lyons was a little out of my direct road, but I was determined to pass through that city in order to convince myself of a knavish trick played me by M.de Montaigu.I had sent me from Paris a little box containing a waistcoat, embroidered with gold, a few pairs of ruffles, and six pairs of white silk stockings; nothing more.Upon a proposition made me by M.de Montaigu, I ordered this box to be added to his baggage.In the apothecary's bill he offered me in payment of my salary, and which he wrote out himself, he stated the weight of this box, which he called a bale, at eleven hundred pounds, and charged me with the carriage of it at an enormous rate.By the cares of M.Boy de la Tour, to whom I was recommended by M.
Roguin, his uncle, it was proved from the registers of the customs of Lyons and Marseilles, that the said bale weighed no more than forty-five pounds, and had paid carriage according to that weight.Ijoined this authentic extract to the memoir of M.de Montaigu, and provided with these papers and others containing stronger facts, Ireturned to Paris, very impatient to make use of them.During the whole of this long journey I had little adventures: at Como, in Valais, and elsewhere.I there saw many curious things, amongst others the Borromean Islands, which are worthy of being described.But I am pressed by time, and surrounded by spies.I am obliged to write in haste, and very imperfectly, a work which requires the leisure and tranquility I do not enjoy.If ever providence in its goodness grants me days more calm, I shall destine them to new modeling this work, should I be able to do it, or at least to give a supplement, of which I perceive it stands in the greatest need.** I have given up this project.
The news of my quarrel had reached Paris before me, and on my arrival I found the people in all the offices, and the public in general, scandalized at the follies of the ambassador.Notwithstanding this, the public talk of Venice, and the unanswerable proof Iexhibited, I could not obtain even the shadow of justice.Far from obtaining satisfaction or reparation, I was left at the discretion of the ambassador for my salary, and this for no other reason than because, not being a Frenchman, I had no right to national protection, and that it was a private affair between him and myself.Everybody agreed I was insulted, injured, and unfortunate; that the ambassador was mad, cruel, and iniquitous, and that the whole of the affair dishonored him forever.But what of this! He was the ambassador, and Iwas nothing more than the secretary.
Order, or that which is so called, was in opposition to my obtaining justice, and of this the least shadow was not granted me.I supposed that, by loudly complaining, and by publicly treating this madman in the manner he deserved, I should at length be told to hold my tongue; this was what I wished for, and I was fully determined not to obey until I had obtained redress.But at that time there was no minister for foreign affairs.I was suffered to exclaim, nay, even encouraged to do it, and joined with; but the affair still remained in the same state, until, tired of being in the right without obtaining justice, my courage at length failed me, and let the whole drop.
The only person by whom I was ill received, and from whom I should have least expected such an injustice, was Madam de Beuzenval.Full of the prerogatives of rank and nobility, she could not conceive it was possible an ambassador could ever be in the wrong with respect to his secretary.The reception she, gave me was conformable to this prejudice.I was so piqued at it that, immediately after leaving her, I wrote her perhaps one of the strongest and most violent letters that ever came from my pen, and since that time I never once returned to her house.I was better received by Father Castel; but, in the midst of his Jesuitical wheedling I perceived him faithfully to follow one of the great maxims of his society, which is to sacrifice the weak to the powerful.The strong conviction I felt of the justice of my cause, and my natural greatness of mind did not suffer me patiently to endure this partiality.I ceased visiting Father Castel, and on that account, going to the college of the Jesuits, where I knew nobody but himself.Besides the intriguing and tyrannical spirit of his brethren, so different from the cordiality of the good Father Hemet, gave me such a disgust to their conversation that I have never since been acquainted with, nor seen any one of them except Father Berthier, whom I saw twice or thrice at M.Dupin's, in conjunction with whom he labored with all his might at the refutation of Montesquieu.
