press, and favorable to freedom without ever having abused it in thought or action, sent him secret warning. Diderot ran home in consternation. “What’s to be done?” he cried; “how move all my manuscripts in twenty- four hours? I haven’t time even to make a selection. And, above all, where find people who would and can take charge of them safely?” “Send them all to me,” replied M. de Malesherbes; “nobody will come thither to look for them.” Feeble governments are ill served even by their worthiest servants; the severities ordered against the _Encyclopaedia_ did not stop its publication; D’Alembert, however, weary of the struggle, had ceased to take part in the editorship. Naturally cool and moderate, when it was nothing to do with Mdlle. de Lespinasse, the great affection of his life, the illustrious geometer was content with a little. “Twelve hundred livres a year are enough for me,” he wrote to the Great Frederick who was pressing him to settle in his dominions. “I will not go and reap the succession to Maupertuis during his lifetime. I am overlooked by government, just as so many others by Providence; persecuted as much as anybody can be, if some day I have to fly my country, I will simply ask Frederick’s permission to go and die in his dominions, free and poor.” [Illustration: Alembert----317] Frederick II. gave D’Alembert a pension; it had but lately been Louis XIV. who thus lavished kindnesses on foreign scholars: he made an offer to the Encyclopaedists to go and finish their vast undertaking at Berlin. Catherine II. made the same offers, asking D’Alembert, besides, to take charge of the education of her son. “I know your honesty too well,” she wrote, “to attribute your refusals to vanity; I know that the cause is merely love of repose in order to cultivate literature and friendship. But what is to prevent your coming with all your friends? I promise you and them too all the comforts and every facility that may depend upon me; and perchance you will find more freedom and repose than you have at home. You do not yield to the entreaties of the King of Prussia, and to the gratitude you owe him, it is true, but then he has no son. I confess that I have my son’s education so much at heart, and that you are so necessary to me, that perhaps I press you too much. Pardon my indiscretion for the reason’s sake, and rest assured that it is esteem which has made me so selfish.”