"I had now an opportunity of being convinced of the great advantage that a man derives from superintending his own business himself, and of the important influence of politeness and good manners in all the affairs of life. I acceded to every thing that was proposed, I received every hint that was suggested, and I was repaid a hundred-fold for my complaisance. It frequently happened that a person who had called on me, without any intention of purchasing the work, was not only induced to carry it away with him, but brought me ten, twenty, or even a hundred, additional subscribers.
"One described my Atlas as a classic work to the Minister of the Interior; another recommended it to the Minister for Foreign Affairs; a third promised to procure for me the decoration of the Legion of Honour, and a fourth wrote a flattering critique on the work, and got it inserted in the public journals. Some carried their interest and attachment for me even to a degree of enthusiasm. Of this the following are instances. One of my provincial subscribers, who was unacquainted with me, wrote to request, as a particular favour, that I would get my portrait engraved to embellish the work, offering, in case I acceded to the proposition, to defray half the expenses of the engraving. Another, who was the owner of the Chateau de Montmorency, paid me a visit every week under pretence of enquiring whether I had got a new sheet of my Atlas ready for publication, but in reality, as he himself assured me, to pass his happiest hours in my society. He added that, if ever I should take a fancy to sell my conversation as I did the sheets of my work, it was in my power, if I chose, to ruin him. I afterwards learned that this was a man of a very eccentric turn; one of La Bruyere’s characters; quite after the manner of Jean-Jacques. For a considerable time he seemed to rack his invention to make me offers of service in the most delicate way imaginable: he even went so far as to throw out paternal suggestions to me. ‘M. Le Sage,’ said he, oftener than once ‘you ought to marry. You possess qualities that are calculated to insure the happiness of a wife, and still more that of a father-in-law.’ I must not omit to mention that the old gentleman had but one daughter, and she was a rich heiress. However, the warmth of our intimacy gradually abated, till at length I entirely lost the acquaintance. It was not until a considerable time afterwards that, being on a country excursion with a party of ladies, the sight of the Chateau de Montmorency revived the recollection of my old friend. I related the history of his eccentricities to the ladies who accompanied me: their curiosity was excited, and we determined to visit the chateau. The porter refused to admit us. On my enquiring whether the gentleman was at his country residence, I received for answer that he was there, and that this was precisely the reason why we could not be admitted. I thought it very extraordinary that he should thus immure himself and render himself totally inaccessible. With considerable difficulty I prevailed on the servant to announce M. Le Sage. The sound of the name operated like enchantment; the affront offered to an elegant calash and rich liveries was immediately repaired. The gates were thrown open, apparently to the no small astonishment of the porter. The servants received orders to show us over the building and to offer us every kind of refreshment. We had brought with us in the carriage provisions for a little rural repast; but a sumptuous dinner was laid out for us in one of the best apartments; and we could not, with any thing like a good grace, decline accepting what was so politely offered. All this hospitality was perfectly disinterested on the part of the worthy old gentleman, who was confined to his chamber by the gout. He was overjoyed at seeing me; and he seemed to regard my visit as the return of the prodigal son. He insisted on seeing the ladies who accompanied me, and was carried into the dining-room to do the honours of the dessert. One thing that amused us infinitely was that he seemed to have no idea of the rank of the friends by whom I was accompanied; and he treated them like persons of inferior rank, though they were in reality ladies of distinction. The old gentleman would now scarcely allow me to depart; he insisted on my repeating my visit, and said, that I and all my friends should ever be welcome to his residence. But alas! I could not avail myself of his kindness; for a few days afterwards I read in the papers an account of the death of this kind and sincere friend.