Impossible to scold you, even when you deserve it....
"As to your Niece, let her burn me or roast me, I care little.

Nor are you to think me so sensitive to what your Bishops in IC or in AC may say of me.

I have the lot of all actors who play in public; applauded by some, despised by others.

One must prepare oneself for satires, for calumnies, for a multitude of lies, which will be sent abroad into currency against one: but need that trouble my tranquillity?
I go my road; I do nothing against the interior voice of my conscience; and I concern myself very little in what way my actions paint themselves in the brain of beings, not always very thinking, with two legs and without feathers." ["Schmottseifen, 18th July, 1759;" _OEuvres de Frederic,_ xxiii.

55, 56.] AT WILSDRUF, JUST BEFORE MAXEN (an exultant exuberant curious Letter; too long for insertion,--part of it given above)....