He died, leaving a foolish and extravagant widow, and a perverse and violent daughter.

The latter went on to the stage, and Diderot took as much trouble in advising her, in seeking appointments for her, in executing her commissions, in investing her earnings, in dealing with her relatives, as if he had been her own father.

If his counsels on her art are admirable, there is something that moves us with more than admiration in the good sense, the right feeling, the worthiness of his counsels on conduct.

And Diderot did not merely moralise at large.

All that he says is real, pointed, and apt for circumstance and person.