Even if I had not the good fortune of being bound to you by affection from my youth, I could not fail to be deeply moved by the reply of February 26, with which your Majesty has deigned to honour me. Were I to follow the first impulse of my heart, I should set out immediately in order to enjoy the inestimable privilege of paying my court to you in Poland; but my duty compels me first to crave your permission. Time and again have I been tempted to offer my services to your Majesty, both in the army and in diplomacy; but my misfortunes have always made me fear that your Majesty might look upon my offer as interested, and as coming solely from my want of employment. I will take the liberty of stating that I have an income of fifteen thousand livres and a library of three thousand volumes, consisting in large part of rare books and of ancient and modern manuscripts. With these and a little circle of English noblemen who are friendlily disposed towards me I live the quiet life of an exiled philosopher in a free country. But your greatest misfortune and your happiness and your extreme kindness remind me, Sire, that as I am only forty and enjoy good health, and as I still possess my courage, my sword, and some experience of war and politics, I might be able to serve and avenge the cause of a king who knows me personally, a king whose goodness is his glory, and who, like Socrates, loves truth, and like Titus loves men. If my poor talents can be of use to your Majesty you have but to command, and I will wing my flight with the remains of my small fortune, in order to devote them to your Majesty’s service. _P.S._—On my return from Lord Ferrers’ seat I went immediately to pay my court to his Highness the young Prince Poniatowski, who has been entirely successful in London. He has done me the honour of accepting my invitation to a philosophical dinner with M. de Lind, his worthy mentor, and of promising me to forward this letter to your Majesty. Should you vouchsafe to cause an answer to be sent, I beg you will not transmit it through France but through the medium of his Highness the Prince, your nephew, or of your envoy in London. D’Eon, still worried by the recollection of his scandalous dispute, did not omit to send with his letter a copy of the “literary productions which he had,” he said, “been compelled to publish during his past unhappy dissension with the deceased ambassador of France, M. de Guerchy.”