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 further. 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 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;
