Stories of Achievement, Volume IV | Page 3

Asa Don Dickinson
the
more shocking. This detail, which a particular occasion gave birth to,
will not be useless in the sequel, being a key to many of my actions
which might otherwise appear unaccountable; and have been attributed
to a savage humor I do not possess. I love society as much as any man,
was I not certain to exhibit myself in it, not only disadvantageously, but
totally different from what I really am. The plan I have adopted of
writing and retirement is what exactly suits me. Had I been present, my
worth would never have been known, no one would ever have
suspected it; thus it was with Madam Dupin, a woman of sense, in
whose house I lived for several years; indeed, she has often since
owned it to me: though on the whole this rule may be subject to some
exceptions. . . .
The heat of the summer was this year (1749) excessive. Vincennes is
two leagues from Paris. The state of my finances not permitting me to
pay for hackney coaches, at two o'clock in the afternoon, I went on foot,
when alone, and walked as fast as possible, that I might arrive the
sooner. The trees by the side of the road, always lopped, according to
the custom of the country, afforded but little shade, and exhausted by
fatigue, I frequently threw myself on the ground, being unable to
proceed any farther. I thought a book in my hand might make me
moderate my pace. One day I took the Mercure de France, and as I
walked and read, I came to the following question proposed by the
academy of Dijon, for the premium of the ensuing year: Has the
progress of sciences and arts contributed to corrupt or purify morals?
The moment I had read this, I seemed to behold another world, and
became a different man. Although I have a lively remembrance of the
impression it made upon me, the detail has escaped my mind, since I
communicated it to M. de Malesherbes in one of my four letters to him.
This is one of the singularities of my memory which merits to be
remarked. It serves me in proportion to my dependence upon it; the
moment I have committed to paper that with which it was charged, it
forsakes me, and I have no sooner written a thing than I had forgotten it
entirely. This singularity is the same with respect to music. Before I
learned the use of notes I knew a great number of songs; the moment I

had made a sufficient progress to sing an air of art set to music, I could
not recollect any one of them; and, at present, I much doubt whether I
should be able entirely to go through one of those of which I was the
most fond. All I distinctly recollect upon this occasion is, that on my
arrival at Vincennes, I was in an agitation which approached a delirium.
Diderot perceived it; I told him the cause, and read to him the
prosopopoeia of Fabricius, written with a pencil under a tree. He
encouraged me to pursue my ideas, and to become a competitor for the
premium. I did so, and from that moment I was ruined.
All the rest of my misfortunes during my life were the inevitable effect
of this moment of error.
My sentiments became elevated with the most inconceivable rapidity to
the level of my ideas. All my little passions were stifled by the
enthusiasm of truth, liberty, and virtue; and, what is most astonishing,
this effervescence continued in my mind upward of five years, to as
great a degree, perhaps, as it has ever done in that of any other man. I
composed the discourse in a very singular manner, and in that style
which I have always followed in my other works, I dedicated to it the
hours of the night in which sleep deserted me; I meditated in my bed
with my eyes closed, and in my mind turned over and over again my
periods with incredible labor and care; the moment they were finished
to my satisfaction, I deposited in my memory, until I had an
opportunity of committing them to paper; but the time of rising and
putting on my clothes made me lose everything, and when I took up my
pen I recollected but little of what I had composed. I made Madam le
Vasseur my secretary; I had lodged her with her daughter and husband
nearer to myself; and she, to save me the expense of a servant, came
every morning to make my fire, and to do such other little things as
were necessary. As soon as she arrived I dictated to her while in bed
what I had composed
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