This memorial was a judicious critique on the extensive but ridiculous plan of fortification, which had been adopted at Geneva, though censured by every person of judgment in the art, who was unacquainted with the secret motives of the council, in the execution of this magnificent enterprise.Monsieur de Micheli, who had been excluded from the committee of fortification for having condemned this plan, thought that, as a citizen, and a member of the two hundred, he might give his advice at large, and therefore, did so in this memorial, which he was imprudent enough to have printed, though he never published it, having only those copies struck off which were meant for the two hundred, and which were all intercepted at the post-house by order of the senate.* I found this memorial among my uncle's papers, with the answer he had been ordered to make to it, and took both.This was soon after I had left my place at the survey, and I yet remained on good terms with the Counselor de Coccelli, who had the management of it.Some time after, the director of the custom-house entreated me to stand godfather to his child, with Madam Coccelli, who was to be godmother: proud of being placed on such terms of equality with the counselor, I wished to assume importance, and show myself worthy of that honor.
* The grand council of Geneva, in December, 1728, pronounced this paper highly disrespectful to the councils, and injurious to the committee of fortification.
Full of this idea, I thought I could do nothing better than show him Micheli's memorial, which was really a scarce piece, and would prove Iwas connected with people of consequence in Geneva, who were intrusted with the secrets of the state, yet by a kind of reserve which I should find it difficult to account for, I did not show him my uncle's answer, perhaps, because it was manuscript, and nothing less than print was worthy to approach the counselor.He understood, however, so well the importance of this paper, which I had the folly to put into his hands, that I could never after get it into my possession, and being convinced that every effort for that purpose would be ineffectual, I made a merit of my forbearance, transforming the theft into a present.I made no doubt that this writing (more curious, however, than useful) answered his purpose at the court of Turin, where probably he took care to be reimbursed in some way or other for the expense which the acquisition of it might be supposed to have cost him.Happily, of all future contingencies, the least probable, is, that the King of Sardinia ever should besiege Geneva, but as that event is not absolutely impossible, I shall ever reproach my foolish vanity with having been the means of pointing out the greatest defects of that city to its most ancient enemy.
I passed two or three years in this manner, between music, magistery, projects, and journeys, floating incessantly from one object to another, and wishing to fix though I knew not on what, but insensibly inclining towards study.I was acquainted with men of letters, I heard them speak of literature, and sometimes mingled in the conversation, yet rather adopted the jargon of books, than the knowledge contained.In my excursions, I frequently called on my good old friend Monsieur Simon, who greatly promoted my rising emulation by fresh news from the republic of letters, extracted from Baillet or Colomies.I frequently saw too, at Chambery, a Jacobin professor of physic, a good kind of friar, who often made little chemical experiments which greatly amused me.In imitation of him, Iattempted to make some sympathetic ink, and having for that purpose more than half filled a bottle with quicklime, orpiment, and water, the effervescence immediately became extremely violent; I ran to unstop the bottle, but had not time to effect it, for, during the attempt, it burst in my face like a bomb, and I swallowed so much of the orpiment and lime, that it nearly cost me my life.I remained blind for six weeks, and by the event of this experiment learned to meddle no more with experimental chemistry while the elements were unknown to me.
This adventure happened very unluckily for my health, which, for some time past, had been visibly on the decline.This was rather extraordinary, as I was guilty of no kind of excess; nor could it have been expected from my make, for my chest, being well formed and rather capacious, seemed to give my lungs full liberty to play; yet I was short breathed, felt a very sensible oppression, sighed involuntarily, had palpitations of the heart, and spitting of blood, accompanied with a lingering fever, which I have never since entirely overcome.How is it possible to fall into such a state in the flower of one's age, without any inward decay, or without having done anything to destroy health?