Nobody in the world was ever more eager to give succour to others, nor more careless of his own ease.
One singular story of Diderot's heedlessness about himself has often been told before, but we shall be none the worse in an egoistic world for hearing it told again.

There came to him one morning a young man, bringing a manuscript in his hand.

He begged Diderot to do him the favour of reading it, and to make any remarks he might think useful on the margin.

Diderot found it to be a bitter satire upon his own person and writings.

On the young man's return, Diderot asked him his grounds for making such an attack.