THE CONFESSIONS OF JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU(In 12 books)

Privately Printed for the Members of the Aldus Society

London, 1903

BOOK IV. 

Let any one judge my surprise and grief at not finding her on my arrival. I now felt regret at having abandoned M. Le Maitre, and my uneasinessincreased when I learned the misfortunes that had befallen him. His boxof music, containing all his fortune, that precious box, preserved withso much care and fatigue, had been seized on at Lyons by means of CountDortan, who had received information from the Chapter of our havingabsconded with it. In vain did Le Maitre reclaim his property, his meansof existence, the labor of his life; his right to the music in questionwas at least subject to litigation, but even that liberty was not allowedhim, the affair being instantly decided on the principal of superiorstrength. Thus poor Le Maitre lost the fruit of his talents, the laborof his youth, and principal dependence for the support of old age. 

Nothing was wanting to render the news I had received truly afflicting, but I was at an age when even the greatest calamities are to besustained; accordingly I soon found consolation. I expected shortlyto hear news of Madam de Warrens, though I was ignorant of the address, and she knew nothing of my return. As to my desertion of Le Maitre (allthings considered) I did not find it so very culpable. I had beenserviceable to him at his retreat; it was not in my power to give him anyfurther assistance. Had I remained with him in France it would not havecured his complaint. I could not have saved his music, and should onlyhave doubled his expense: in this point of view I then saw my conduct;I see it otherwise now. It frequently happens that a villainous actiondoes not torment us at the instant we commit it, but on recollection, andsometimes even after a number of years have elapsed, for the remembranceof crimes is not to be extinguished. 

The only means I had to obtain news of Madam de Warrens was to remain atAnnecy. Where should I seek her in Paris? or how bear the expense ofsuch a journey? Sooner or later there was no place where I could be socertain to hear of her as that I was now at; this considerationdetermined me to remain there, though my conduct was very indifferent. I did not go to the bishop, who had already befriended me, and mightcontinue to do so; my patroness was not present, and I feared hisreprimands on the subject of our flight; neither did I go to theseminary, M. Graswas no longer there; in short, I went to none of myacquaintances. I should gladly have visited the intendant's lady, butdid not dare; I did worse, I sought out M. Venture, whom (notwithstandingmy enthusiasm) I had never thought of since my departure. I found himquite gay, in high spirits, and the universal favorite of the ladies ofAnnecy. 

This success completed my infatuation; I saw nothing but M. Venture; healmost made me forget even Madam de Warrens. That I might profit more atease by his instructions and example, I proposed to share his lodgings, to which he readily consented. It was at a shoemaker's; a pleasant, jovial fellow, who, in his county dialect, called his wife nothing buttrollop; an appellation which she certainly merited. Venture took careto augment their differences, though under an appearance of doing thedirect contrary, throwing out in a distant manner, and provincialaccents, hints that produced the utmost effect, and furnished such scenesas were sufficient to make any one die with laughter. Thus the morningspassed without our thinking of them; at two or three o'clock we took somerefreshment. Venture then went to his various engagements, where hesupped, while I walked alone, meditating on his great merit, coveting andadmiring his rare talents, and cursing my own unlucky stars, that did notcall me to so happy a life. How little did I then know of myself! minehad been a thousand times more delightful, had I not been such a fool, orknown better how to enjoy it. 

Madam de Warrens had taken no one with her but Anet: Merceret, thechambermaid, whom I have before mentioned, still remained in the house. Merceret was something older than myself, not pretty, but tolerablyagreeable; good-natured, free from malice, having no fault to myknowledge but being a little refractory with her mistress. I often wentto see her; she was an old acquaintance, who recalled to my remembranceone more beloved, and this made her dear to me. She had several friends, and among others one Mademoiselle Giraud, a Genevese, who, for thepunishment of my sins, took it in her head to have an inclination for me, always pressing Merceret, when she returned her visits, to bring me withher. As I liked Merceret, I felt no disinclination to accompany her;besides I met there with some young people whose company pleased me. For Mademoiselle Giraud, who offered every kind of enticement, nothingcould increase the aversion I had for her. When she drew near me, withher dried black snout, smeared with Spanish snuff, it was with the utmostdifficulty that I could refrain from expressing my distaste; but, beingpleased with her visitors, I took patience. Among these were two girlswho (either to pay their court to Mademoiselle Giraud or myself) paid meevery possible attention. I conceived this to be only friendship; buthave since thought it depended only on myself to have discoveredsomething more, though I did not even think of it at the time. 

There was another reason for my stupidity. Seamstresses, chambermaids, or milliners, never tempted me; I sighed for ladies! Every one has hispeculiar taste, this has ever been mine; being in this particular of adifferent opinion from Horace. Yet it is not vanity of riches or rankthat attracts me; it is a well-preserved complexion, fine hands, eleganceof ornaments, an air of delicacy and neatness throughout the wholeperson; more in taste, in the manner of expressing themselves, a finer orbetter made gown, a well-turned ankle, small foot, ribbons, lace, andwell-dressed hair; I even prefer those who have less natural beauty, provided they are elegantly decorated. I freely confess this preferenceis very ridiculous; yet my heart gives in to it spite of myunderstanding. Well, even this advantage presented itself, and it onlydepended on my own resolution to have seized the opportunity. 

How do I love, from time to time, to return to those moments of my youth, which were so charmingly delightful; so short, so scarce, and enjoyed atso cheap a rate!--how fondly do I wish to dwell on them! Even yet theremembrance of these scenes warms my heart with a chaste rapture, whichappears necessary to reanimate my drooping courage, and enable me tosustain the weariness of my latter days. 

The appearance of Aurora seemed so delightful one morning that, puttingon my clothes, I hastened into the country, to see the rising of the sun. I enjoyed that pleasure in its utmost extent; it was one week aftermidsummer; the earth was covered with verdure and flowers, thenightingales, whose soft warblings were almost concluded, seemed to viewith each other, and in concert with birds of various kinds to bid adieuto spring, and hail the approach of a beautiful summer's day: one ofthose lovely days that are no longer to be enjoyed at my age, and whichhave never been seen on the melancholy soil I now inhabit. 

I had rambled insensibly, to a considerable distance from the town--theheat augmented--I was walking in the shade along a valley, by the side ofa brook, I heard behind me the steps of horses, and the voice of somefemales who, though they seemed embarrassed, did not laugh the lessheartily on that account. I turn round, hear myself called by name, andapproaching, find two young people of my acquaintance, Mademoiselle deG---- and Mademoiselle Galley, who, not being very excellent horsewomen, could not make their horses cross the rivulet. 

Mademoiselle de G---- was a young lady of Berne, very amiable; who, having been sent from that country for some youthful folly, had imitatedMadam de Warrens, at whose house I had sometimes seen her; but nothaving, like her, a pension, she had been fortunate in this attachment toMademoiselle Galley, who had prevailed on her mother to engage her youngfriend as a companion, till she could be otherwise provided for. Mademoiselle Galley was one year younger than her friend, handsomer, more delicate, more ingenious, and to complete all, extremely well made. They loved each other tenderly, and the good disposition of both couldnot fail to render their union durable, if some lover did not derange it. They informed me they were going to Toune, an old castle belonging toMadam Galley, and implored my assistance to make their horses cross thestream, not being able to compass it themselves. I would have given eacha cut or two with the whip, but they feared I might be kicked, andthemselves thrown; I therefore had recourse to another expedient, I tookhold of Mademoiselle Galley's horse and led him through the brook, thewater reaching half-way up my legs. The other followed without anydifficulty. This done, I would have paid my compliments to the ladies, and walked off like a great booby as I was, but after whispering eachother, Mademoiselle de G---- said, "No, no, you must not think to escapethus; you have got wet in our service, and we ought in conscience to takecare and dry you. If you please you must go with us, you are now ourprisoner. " My heart began to beat--I looked at Mademoiselle Galley--"Yes, yes, " added she, laughing at my fearful look; "our prisoner of war;come, get up behind her, we shall give a good account of you. "--"But, mademoiselle, " continued I, "I have not the honor to be acquainted withyour mother; what will she say on my arrival?"--"Her mother, " repliedMademoiselle de G---- is not at Toune, we are alone, we shall return atnight, and you shall come back with us. "

The stroke of electricity has not a more instantaneous effect than thesewords produced on me. Leaping behind Mademoiselle de G----, I trembledwith joy, and when it became necessary to clasp her in order to holdmyself on, my heart beat so violently that she perceived it, and told mehers beat also from a fear of falling. In my present posture, I mightnaturally have considered this an invitation to satisfy myself of thetruth of her assertion, yet I did not dare, and during the whole way myarm served as a girdle (a very close one, I must confess), without beinga moment displaced. Some women that may read this would be for giving mea box on the ear, and, truly, I deserved it. 

The gayety of the journey, and the chat of these girls, so enlivened me, that during the whole time we passed together we never ceased talking amoment. They had set me so thoroughly at ease, that my tongue spoke asfast as my eyes, though not exactly the same things. Some minutes, indeed, when I was left alone with either, the conversation became alittle embarrassed, but neither of them was absent long enough to allowtime for explaining the cause. 

Arrived at Toune, and myself well dried, we breakfasted together; afterwhich it was necessary to settle the important business of preparingdinner. The young ladies cooked, kissing from time to time the farmer'schildren, while the poor scullion looked on grumbling. Provisions hadbeen sent for from town, and there was everything necessary for a gooddinner, but unhappily they had forgotten wine; this forgetfulness was byno means astonishing to girls who seldom drank any, but I was sorry forthe omission, as I had reckoned on its help, thinking it might add to myconfidence. They were sorry likewise, and perhaps from the same motive;though I have no reason to say this, for their lively and charming gayetywas innocence itself; besides, there were two of them, what could theyexpect from me? they went everywhere about the neighborhood to seek forwine, but none could be procured, so pure and sober are the peasants inthose parts. As they were expressing their concern, I begged them not togive themselves any uneasiness on my account, for while with them I hadno occasion for wine to intoxicate me. This was the only gallantry Iventured at during the whole of the day, and I believe the sly rogues sawwell enough that I said nothing but the truth. 

We dined in the kitchen; the two friends were seated on the benches, oneon each side the long table, and their guest at the end, between them, ona three--legged stool. What a dinner! how charming the remembrance!While we can enjoy, at so small an expense, such pure, such truedelights, why should we be solicitous for others? Never did those'petite soupes', so celebrated in Paris, equal this; I do not only sayfor real pleasure and gayety, but even for sensuality. 

After dinner, we were economical; instead of drinking the coffee we hadreserved at breakfast, we kept it for an afternoon collation, with cream, and some cake they had brought with them. To keep our appetites in play, we went into the orchard, meaning to finish our dessert with cherries. I got into a tree, throwing them down bunches, from which they returnedthe stones through the branches. One time, Mademoiselle Galley, holdingout her apron, and drawing back her head, stood so fair, and I took suchgood aim, that I dropped a bunch into her bosom. On her laughing, I saidto myself, "Why are not my lips cherries? How gladly would I throw themthere likewise. "

Thus the day passed with the greatest freedom, yet with the utmostdecency; not a single equivocal word, not one attempt at double-meaningpleasantry; yet this delicacy was not affected, we only performed theparts our hearts dictated; in short, my modesty, some will say my folly, was such that the greatest familiarity that escaped me was once kissingthe hand of Mademoiselle Galley; it is true, the attending circumstanceshelped to stamp a value on this trifling favor; we were alone, I wasembarrassed, her eyes were fixed on the ground, and my lips, instead ofuttering words, were pressed on her hand, which she drew gently backafter the salute, without any appearance of displeasure. I know not whatI should have said to her; but her friend entered, and at that moment Ithought her ugly. 

At length, they bethought themselves, that they must return to townbefore night; even now we had but just time to reach it by daylight;and we hastened our departure in the same order we came. Had I pleasedmyself, I should certainly have reversed this order, for the glance ofMademoiselle Galley had reached my heart, but I dared not mention it, and the proposal could not reasonably come from her. On the way, weexpressed our sorrow that the day was over, but far from complaining ofthe shortness of its duration, we were conscious of having prolonged itby every possible amusement. 

I quitted them in nearly the same spot where I had taken them up. Withwhat regret did we part! With what pleasure did we form projects torenew our meeting! Delightful hours, which we passed innocentlytogether, yet were worth ages of familiarity! The sweet remembrance ofthose days cost those amiable girls nothing; the tender union whichreigned among us equalled more lively pleasures, with which it could nothave existed. We loved each other without shame or mystery, and wishedto continue our reciprocal affection. There is a species of enjoymentconnected with innocence of manners which is superior to any other, because it has no interval; for myself, the remembrance of such a daytouches me nearer, delights me more, and returns with greater rapture tomy heart than any other pleasure I ever tasted. I hardly knew what Iwished with those charming girls. I do not say: that had the arrangementbeen in my power, I should have divided my heart between them;I certainly felt some degree of preference: though I should have beenhappy to have had Mademoiselle de G----, for a mistress, I think, by choice, I should have liked her, better as a confidante; be that as itmay, I felt on leaving them as though I could not live without either. Who would have thought that I should never see them more; and that hereour ephemeral amours must end?

Those who read this will not fail to laugh at my gallantries, and remark, that after very promising preliminaries, my most forward adventuresconcluded by a kiss of the hand: yet be not mistaken, reader, in yourestimate of my enjoyments; I have, perhaps, tasted more real pleasure inmy amours, which concluded by a kiss of the hand, than you will ever havein yours, which, at least, begin there. 

Venture, who had gone to bed late the night before, came in soon afterme. I did not now see him with my usual satisfaction, and took care notto inform him how I had passed the day. The ladies had spoken of himslightingly, and appeared discontented at finding me in such bad hands;this hurt him in my esteem; besides, whatever diverted my ideas from themwas at this time disagreeable. However, he soon brought me back to himand myself, by speaking of the situation of my affairs, which was toocritical to last; for, though I spent very little, my slender financeswere almost exhausted. I was without resource; no news of Madam deWarrens; not knowing what would become of me, and feeling a cruel pang atheart to see the friend of Mademoiselle Galley reduced to beggary. 

I now learned from Venture that he had spoken of me to the Judge Major, and would take me next day to dine with him; that he was a man who bymeans of his friends might render me essential service. In otherrespects he was a desirable acquaintance, being a man of wit and letters, of agreeable conversation, one who possessed talents and loved them inothers. After this discourse (mingling the most serious concerns withthe most trifling frivolity) he showed me a pretty couplet, which camefrom Paris, on an air in one of Mouret's operas, which was then playing. Monsieur Simon (the judge major) was so pleased with this couplet, thathe determined to make another in answer to it, on the same air. He haddesired Venture to write one, and he wished me to make a third, that, ashe expressed it, they might see couplets start up next day like incidentsin a comic romance. 

In the night (not being able to sleep) I composed a couplet, as my firstessay in poetry. It was passable; better, or at least composed with moretaste than it would have been the preceding night, the subject beingtenderness, to which my heart was now entirely disposed. In the morningI showed my performance to Venture, who, being pleased with the couplet, put it in his pocket, without informing me whether he had made his. Wedined with M. Simon, who treated us very politely. The conversation wasagreeable; indeed it could not be otherwise between two men of naturalgood sense, improved by reading. For me, I acted my proper part, whichwas to listen without attempting to join in the conversation. Neither ofthem mentioned the couplet nor do I know that it ever passed for mine. M. Simon appeared satisfied with my behavior; indeed, it was almost allhe saw of me at this interview. We had often met at Madam de Warrens, but he had never paid much attention to me; it is from this dinner, therefore, that I date our acquaintance, which, though of no use inregard to the object I then had in view, was afterwards productive ofadvantages which make me recollect it with pleasure. I should be wrongnot to give some account of this person, since from his office ofmagistrate, and the reputation of wit on which he piqued himself, no ideacould be formed of it. The judge major, Simon, certainly was not two feethigh; his legs spare, straight, and tolerably long, would have addedsomething to his stature had they been vertical, but they stood in thedirection of an open pair of compasses. His body was not only short, butthin, being in every respect of most inconceivable smallness--when nakedhe must have appeared like a grasshopper. His head was of the commonsize, to which appertained a well-formed face, a noble look, andtolerably fine eyes; in short, it appeared a borrowed head, stuck on amiserable stump. He might very well have dispensed with dress, for hislarge wig alone covered him from head to foot. 

He had two voices, perfectly different, which intermingled perpetually inhis conversation, forming at first a diverting, but afterwards a verydisagreeable contrast. One grave and sonorous, was, if I may hazard theexpression, the voice of his head: the other, clear, sharp, and piercing, the voice of his body. When he paid particular attention, and spokeleisurely, so as to preserve his breath, he could continue his deep tone;but if he was the least animated, or attempted a lively accent, his voicesounded like the whistling of a key, and it was with the utmostdifficulty that he could return to the bass. 

With the figure I have just described, and which is by no meansovercharged, M. Simon was gallant, ever entertaining the ladies withsoft tales, and carrying the decoration of his person even to foppery. Willing to make use of every advantage he, during the morning, gaveaudience in bed, for when a handsome head was discovered on the pillow noone could have imagined what belonged to it. This circumstance gavebirth to scenes, which I am certain are yet remembered by all Annecy. 

One morning, when he expected to give audience in bed, or rather on thebed, having on a handsome night-cap ornamented with rose-colored ribbon, a countryman arriving knocked at the door; the maid happened to be out;the judge, therefore, hearing the knock repeated, cried "Come in, " and, as he spoke rather loud, it was in his shrill tone. The man entered, looked about, endeavoring to discover whence the female voice proceededand at length seeing a handsome head-dress set off with ribbons, wasabout to leave the room, making the supposed lady a hundred apologies. M. Simon, in a rage, screamed the more; and the countryman, yet moreconfirmed in his opinion, conceiving himself to be insulted, beganrailing in his turn, saying that, "Apparently, she was nothing betterthan a common streetwalker, and that the judge major should be ashamed ofsetting such ill examples. " The enraged magistrate, having no otherweapon than the jordan under his bed, was just going to throw it at thepoor fellow's head as his servant returned. 

This dwarf, ill-used by nature as to his person, was recompensed bypossessing an understanding naturally agreeable, and which he had beencareful to cultivate. Though he was esteemed a good lawyer, he did notlike his profession, delighting more in the finer parts of literature, which he studied with success: above all, he possessed that superficialbrilliancy, the art of pleasing in conversation, even with the ladies. He knew by heart a number of little stories, which he perfectly well knewhow to make the most of; relating with an air of secrecy, and as ananecdote of yesterday, what happened sixty years before. He understoodmusic, and could sing agreeably; in short, for a magistrate, he had manypleasing talents. By flattering the ladies of Annecy, he becamefashionable among them, appearing continually in their train. He evenpretended to favors, at which they were much amused. A Madam D'Epignyused to say "The greatest favor he could aspire to, was to kiss a lady onher knees. "

As he was well read, and spoke fluently, his conversation was bothamusing and instructive. When I afterwards took a taste for study, I cultivated his acquaintance, and found my account in it: when atChambery, I frequently went from thence to see him. His praisesincreased my emulation, to which he added some good advice respecting theprosecution of my studies, which I found useful. Unhappily, this weaklybody contained a very feeling soul. Some years after, he was chagrinedby I know not what unlucky affair, but it cost him his life. This wasreally unfortunate, for he was a good little man, whom at a firstacquaintance one laughed at, but afterwards loved. Though our situationsin life were very little connected with each other, as I received someuseful lessons from him, I thought gratitude demanded that I shoulddedicate a few sentences to his memory. 

As soon as I found myself at liberty, I ran into the street whereMademoiselle Galley lived, flattering myself that I should see someone goin or out, or at least open a window, but I was mistaken, not even a catappeared, the house remaining as close all the time as if it had beenuninhabited. The street was small and lonely, any one loitering aboutwas, consequently, more likely to be noticed; from time to time peoplepassed in and out of the neighborhood; I was much embarrassed, thinkingmy person might be known, and the cause that brought me thereconjectured; this idea tortured me, for I have ever preferred the honorand happiness of those I love to my own pleasures. 

At length, weary of playing the Spanish lover, and having no guitar, I determined to write to Mademoiselle de G----. I should have preferredwriting to her friend, but did not dare take that liberty, as it appearedmore proper to begin with her to whom I owed the acquaintance, and withwhom I was most familiar. Having written my letter, I took it toMademoiselle Giraud, as the young ladies had agreed at parting, theyhaving furnished me with this expedient. Mademoiselle Giraud was aquilter, and sometimes worked at Madam Galley's, which procured her freeadmission to the house. I must confess, I was not thoroughly satisfiedwith this messenger, but was cautious of starting difficulties, fearingthat if I objected to her no other might be named, and it was impossibleto intimate that she had an inclination to me herself. I even felthumiliated that she should think I could imagine her of the same sex asthose young ladies: in a word, I accepted her agency rather than none, and availed myself of it at all events. 

At the very first word, Giraud discovered me. I must own this was not adifficult matter, for if sending a letter to young girls had not spokensufficiently plain, my foolish embarrassed air would have betrayed me. It will easily be supposed that the employment gave her littlesatisfaction, she undertook it, however, and performed it faithfully. The next morning I ran to her house and found an answer ready for me. How did I hurry away that I might have an opportunity to read and kiss italone! though this need not been told, but the plan adopted byMademoiselle Giraud (and in which I found more delicacy and moderationthan I had expected) should. She had sense enough to conclude that herthirty--seven years, hare's eyes, daubed nose, shrill voice, and blackskin, stood no chance against two elegant young girls, in all the heightand bloom of beauty; she resolved, therefore, nether to betray nor assistthem, choosing rather to lose me entirely than entertain me for them. 

As Merceret had not heard from her mistress for some time, she thought ofreturning to Fribourg, and the persuasions of Giraud determined her; naymore, she intimated it was proper someone should conduct her to herfather's and proposed me. As I happened to be agreeable to littleMerceret, she approved the idea, and the same day they mentioned it to meas a fixed point. Finding nothing displeasing in the manner they haddisposed of me, I consented, thinking it could not be above a week'sjourney at most; but Giraud, who had arranged the whole affair, thoughtotherwise. It was necessary to avow the state of my finances, and theconclusion was, that Merceret should defray my expenses; but to retrenchon one hand what was expended on the other, I advised that her littlebaggage should be sent on before, and that we should proceed by easyjourneys on foot. 

I am sorry to have so many girls in love with me, but as there is nothingto be very vain of in the success of these amours, I think I may tell thetruth without scruple. Merceret, younger and less artful than Giraud, never made me so many advances, but she imitated my manners, my actions, repeated my words, and showed me all those little attentions I ought tohave had for her. Being very timorous, she took great care that weshould both sleep in the same chamber; a circumstance that usuallyproduces some consequences between a lad of twenty and a girl of twenty--five. 

For once, however, it went no further; my simplicity being such, thatthough Merceret was by no means a disagreeable girl, an idea of gallantrynever entered my head, and even if it had, I was too great a novice tohave profited by it. I could not imagine how two young persons couldbring themselves to sleep together, thinking that such familiarity mustrequire an age of preparation. If poor Merceret paid my expenses inhopes of any return, she was terribly cheated, for we arrived at Fribourgexactly as we had quitted Annecy. 

I passed through Geneva without visiting any one. While going over thebridges, I found myself so affected that I could scarcely proceed. Nevercould I see the walls of that city, never could I enter it, withoutfeeling my heart sink from excess of tenderness, at the same time thatthe image of liberty elevated my soul. The ideas of equality, union, andgentleness of manners, touched me even to tears, and inspired me with alively regret at having forfeited all these advantages. What an errorwas I in! but yet how natural! I imagined I saw all this in my nativecountry, because I bore it in my heart. 

It was necessary to pass through Nion: could I do this without seeing mygood father? Had I resolved on doing so, I must afterwards have diedwith regret. I left Merceret at the inn, and ventured to his house. How wrong was I to fear him! On seeing me, his soul gave way to theparental tenderness with which it was filled. What tears were mingledwith our embraces! He thought I was returned to him: I related myhistory, and informed him of my resolution. He opposed it feebly, mentioning the dangers to which I exposed myself, and telling me theshortest follies were best, but did not attempt to keep me by force, in which particular I think he acted right; but it is certain he did notdo everything in his power to detain me, even by fair means. Whetherafter the step I had taken, he thought I ought not to return, or waspuzzled at my age to know what to do with me--I have since found that heconceived a very unjust opinion of my travelling companion. My step--mother, a good woman, a little coaxingly put on an appearance of wishingme to stay to supper; I did not, however, comply, but told them Iproposed remaining longer with them on my return; leaving as a depositmy little packet, that had come by water, and would have been anincumbrance, had I taken it with me. I continued my journey the nextmorning, well satisfied that I had seen my father, and had taken courageto do my duty. 

We arrived without any accident at Fribourg. Towards the conclusion ofthe journey, the politeness of Mademoiselle Merceret rather diminished, and, after our arrival, she treated me even with coldness. Her father, who was not in the best circumstances, did not show me much attention, and I was obliged to lodge at an alehouse. I went to see them the nextmorning, and received an invitation to dine there, which I accepted. Weseparated without tears at night; I returned to my paltry lodging, anddeparted the second day after my arrival, almost without knowing whitherto go to. 

This was a circumstance of my life in which Providence offered meprecisely what was necessary to make my days pass happily. Merceret wasa good girl, neither witty, handsome, nor ugly; not very lively, buttolerably rational, except while under the influence of some littlehumors, which usually evaporated in tears, without any violent outbreakof temper. She had a real inclination for me; I might have married herwithout difficulty, and followed her father's business. My taste formusic would have made me love her; I should have settled at Fribourg, asmall town, not pretty, but inhabited by very worthy people--I shouldcertainly have missed great pleasures, but should have lived in peace tomy last hour, and I must know best what I should have gained by such astep. 

I did not return to Nion, but to Lausanne, wishing to gratify myself witha view of that beautiful lake which is seen there in its utmost extent. The greater part of my secret motives have not been so reasonable. Distant expectation has rarely strength enough to influence my actions;the uncertainty of the future ever making me regard projects whoseexecution requires a length of time as deceitful lures. I give in tovisionary scenes of hope as well as others, provided they cost nothing, but if attended with any trouble, I have done with them. The smallest, the most trifling pleasure that is conveniently within my reach, temptsme more than all the joys of paradise. I must except, however, thosepleasures which are necessarily followed by pain; I only love thoseenjoyments which are unadulterated, which can never be the case where weare conscious they must be followed by repentance. 

It was necessary I should arrive at some place, and the nearest was best;for having lost my way on the road, I found myself in the evening atMoudon, where I spent all that remained of my little stock except tencreuzers, which served to purchase my next day's dinner. Arriving in theevening at Lausanne, I went into an ale-house, without a penny in mypocket to pay for my lodging, or knowing what would become of me. Ifound myself extremely hungry--setting, therefore, a good face on thematter, I ordered supper, made my meal, went to bed without thought andslept with great composure. In the morning, having breakfasted andreckoned with my host, I offered to leave my waistcoat in pledge forseven batz, which was the amount of my expenses. The honest man refusedthis, saying, thank Heaven, he had never stripped any one, and would notnow begin for seven batz, adding I should keep my waistcoat and pay himwhen I could. I was affected with this unexpected kindness, but felt itless than I ought to have done, or have since experienced on theremembrance of it. I did not fail sending him his money, with thanks, byone I could depend on. Fifteen years after, passing Lausanne, on myreturn from Italy, I felt a sensible regret at having forgotten the nameof the landlord and house. I wished to see him, and should have feltreal pleasure in recalling to his memory that worthy action. Services which doubtless have been much more important, but rendered withostentation, have not appeared to me so worthy of gratitude as the simpleunaffected humanity of this honest man. 

As I approached Lausanne, I thought of my distress, and the means ofextricating myself, without appearing in want to my step-mother. I compared myself, in this walking pilgrimage, to my friend Venture, on his arrival at Annecy, and was so warmed with the idea, that withoutrecollecting that I had neither his gentility nor his talents, Idetermined to act the part of little Venture at Lausanne, to teach music, which I did not understand, and say I came from Paris, where I had neverbeen. 

In consequence of this noble project (as there was no company where Icould introduce myself without expense, and not choosing to venture amongprofessional people), I inquired for some little inn, where I could lodgecheap, and was directed to one named Perrotet, who took in boarders. This Perrotet, who was one of the best men in the world, received me verykindly, and after having heard my feigned story and profession, promisedto speak of me, and endeavored to procure me scholars, saying he shouldnot expect any money till I had earned it. His price for board, thoughmoderate in itself, was a great deal to me; he advised me, therefore, tobegin with half board, which consisted of good soup only for dinner, buta plentiful supper at night. I closed with this proposition, and thepoor Perrotet trusted me with great cheerfulness, sparing, meantime, notrouble to be useful to me. 

Having found so many good people in my youth, why do I find so few in myage? Is their race extinct? No; but I do not seek them in the samesituation I did formerly, among the commonality, where violent passionspredominate only at intervals, and where nature speaks her genuinesentiments. In more elevated stations they are entirely smothered, andunder the mask of sentiment, only interest or vanity is heard. 

Having written to my father from Lausanne, he sent my packet and someexcellent advice, of which I should have profited better. I have alreadyobserved that I have moments of inconceivable delirium, in which I amentirely out of myself. The adventure I am about to relate is aninstance of this: to comprehend how completely my brain was turned, andto what degree I had 'Venturised' (if I may be allowed the expression), the many extravagances I ran into at the same time should be considered. Behold me, then, a singing master, without knowing how to note a commonsong; for if the five or six months passed with Le Maitre had improvedme, they could not be supposed sufficient to qualify me for such anundertaking; besides, being taught by a master was enough (as I havebefore observed) to make me learn ill. Being a Parisian from Geneva, and a Catholic in a Protestant country, I thought I should change my namewith my religion and country, still approaching as near as possible tothe great model I had in view. He called himself Venture de Villeneuve. I changed, by anagram, the name Rousseau into that of Vaussore, callingmyself Monsieur Vaussore de Villeneuve. Venture was a good composer, though he had not said so; without knowing anything of the art, I boastedof my skill to every one. This was not all: being presented to Monsieurde Freytorens, professor of law, who loved music, and who gave concertsat his house, nothing would do but I must give him a proof of my talents, and accordingly I set about composing a piece for his concerts, as boldlyas if I had really understood the science. I had the constancy to labora fortnight at this curious business, to copy it fair, write out thedifferent parts, and distribute them with as much assurance as if theyhad been masterpieces of harmony; in short (what will hardly be believed, though strictly true), I tacked a very pretty minuet to the end of it, that was commonly played about the streets, and which many may rememberfrom these words, so well known at that time:

 Quel caprice! Quel injustice! Quio, tu Clarice Trahiriot tes feux? &'c. 

Venture had taught me this air with the bass, set to other words, by thehelp of which I had retained it: thus at the end of my composition, I putthis minuet and bass, suppressing the words, and uttering it for my ownas confidently as if I had been speaking to the inhabitants of the moon. They assembled to perform my piece; I explain to each the movement, tasteof execution, and references to his part--I was fully occupied. Theywere five or six minutes preparing, which were for me so many ages: atlength, everything is adjusted, myself in a conspicuous situation, a fineroll of paper in my hand, gravely preparing to beat time. I gave four orfive strokes with my paper, attending with "take care!" they begin--No, never since French operas existed was there such a confused discord!The minuet, however, presently put all the company in good humor; hardlywas it begun, before I heard bursts of laughter from all parts, every onecongratulated me on my pretty taste for music, declaring this minuetwould make me spoken of, and that I merited the loudest praise. It isnot necessary to describe my uneasiness, or to own how much I deservedit. 

Next day, one of the musicians, named Lutold, came to see me and was kindenough to congratulate me on my success. The profound conviction of myfolly, shame, regret, and the state of despair to which I was reduced, with the impossibility of concealing the cruel agitation of my heart, made me open it to him; giving, therefore, a loose to my tears, notcontent with owning my ignorance, I told all, conjuring him to secrecy;he kept his word, as every one will suppose. The same evening, allLausanne knew who I was, but what is remarkable, no one seemed to know, not even the good Perrotet, who (notwithstanding what had happened)continued to lodge and board me. 

I led a melancholy life here; the consequences of such an essay had notrendered Lausanne a very agreeable residence. Scholars did not presentthemselves in crowds, not a single female, and not a person of the city. I had only two or three great dunces, as stupid as I was ignorant, whofatigued me to death, and in my hands were not likely to edify much. 

At length, I was sent for to a house, where a little serpent of a girlamused herself by showing me a parcel of music that I could not read anote of, and which she had the malice to sing before her master, to teachhim how it should be executed; for I was so unable to read an air atfirst sight, that in the charming concert I have just described, I couldnot possibly follow the execution a moment, or know whether they playedtruly what lay before them, and I myself had composed. 

In the midst of so many humiliating circumstances, I had the pleasingconsolation, from time to time, of receiving letters from my two charmingfriends. I have ever found the utmost consolatory virtue in the fair;when in disgrace, nothing softens my affliction more than to be sensiblethat an amiable woman is interested for me. This correspondence ceasedsoon after, and was never renewed: indeed it was my own fault, for inchanging situations I neglected sending my address, and forced bynecessity to think perpetually of myself, I soon forgot them. 

It is a long time since I mentioned Madam de Warrens, but it should notbe supposed I had forgotten her; never was she a moment absent from mythoughts. I anxiously wished to find her, not merely because she wasnecessary to my subsistence, but because she was infinitely morenecessary to my heart. My attachment to her (though lively and tender, as it really was) did not prevent my loving others, but then it was notin the same manner. All equally claimed my tenderness for their charms, but it was those charms alone I loved, my passion would not have survivedthem, while Madam de Warrens might have become old or ugly without myloving her the less tenderly. My heart had entirely transmitted toherself the homage it first paid to her beauty, and whatever change shemight experience, while she remained herself, my sentiments could notchange. I was sensible how much gratitude I owed to her, but in truth, Inever thought of it, and whether she served me or not, it would ever havebeen the same thing. I loved her neither from duty, interest, norconvenience; I loved her because I was born to love her. During myattachment to another, I own this affection was in some measure deranged;I did not think so frequently of her, but still with the same pleasure, and never, in love or otherwise, did I think of her without feeling thatI could expect no true happiness in life while in a state of separation. 

Though in so long a time I had received no news from Madam de Warrens, Inever imagined I had entirely lost her, or that she could have forgottenme. I said to myself, she will know sooner or later that I am wanderingabout, and will find some means to inform me of her situation: I amcertain I shall find her. In the meantime, it was a pleasure to live inher native country, to walk in the streets where she had walked, andbefore the houses that she had lived in; yet all this was the work ofconjecture, for one of my foolish peculiarities was, not daring toinquire after her, or even pronounce her name without the most absolutenecessity. It seemed in speaking of her that I declared all I felt, thatmy lips revealed the secrets of my heart, and in some degree injured theobject of my affection. I believe fear was likewise mingled with thisidea; I dreaded to hear ill of her. Her management had been much spokenof, and some little of her conduct in other respects; fearing, therefore, that something might be said which I did not wish to hear, I preferredbeing silent on the subject. 

As my scholars did not take up much of my time, and the town where shewas born was not above four leagues from Lausanne, I made it a walk ofthree or four days; during which time a most pleasant emotion never leftme. A view of the lake of Geneva and its admirable banks, had ever, inmy idea, a particular attraction which I cannot describe; not arisingmerely from the beauty of the prospect, but something else, I know notwhy, more interesting, which affects and softens me. Every time I haveapproached the Vaudois country I have experienced an impression composedof the remembrance of Madam de Warrens, who was born there; of my father, who lived there; of Miss Vulson, who had been my first love, and ofseveral pleasant journeys I had made there in my childhood, mingled withsome nameless charm, more powerfully attractive than all the rest. Whenthat ardent desire for a life of happiness and tranquility (which everfollows me, and for which I was born) inflames my mind, 'tis ever to thecountry of Vaud, near the lake, in those charming plains, thatimagination leads me. An orchard on the banks of that lake, and noother, is absolutely necessary; a firm friend, an amiable woman, a cow, and a little boat; nor could I enjoy perfect happiness on earth withoutthese concomitants. I laugh at the simplicity with which I have severaltimes gone into that country for the sole purpose of seeking thisimaginary happiness when I was ever surprised to find the inhabitants, particularly the women, of a quite different disposition to what Isought. How strange did this appear to me! The country and people whoinhabit it, were never, in my idea, formed for each other. 

Walking along these beautiful banks, on my way to Vevay, I gave myselfup to the soft melancholy; my heart rushed with ardor into a thousandinnocent felicities; melting to tenderness, I sighed and wept like achild. How often, stopping to weep more at my ease, and seated on alarge stone, did I amuse myself with seeing my tears drop into the water. 

On my arrival at Vevay, I lodged at the Key, and during the two days Iremained there, without any acquaintance, conceived a love for that city, which has followed me through all my travels, and was finally the causethat I fixed on this spot, in the novel I afterwards wrote, for theresidence of my hero and heroines. I would say to any one who has tasteand feeling, go to Vevay, visit the surrounding country, examine theprospects, go on the lake and then say, whether nature has not designedthis country for a Julia, a Clara, and a St. Preux; but do not seek themthere. I now return to my story. 

Giving myself out for a Catholic, I followed without mystery or scruplethe religion I had embraced. On a Sunday, if the weather was fine, Iwent to hear mass at Assans, a place two leagues distant from Lausanne, and generally in company with other Catholics, particularly a Parisianembroiderer, whose name I have forgotten. Not such a Parisian as myself, but a real native of Paris, an arch-Parisian from his maker, yet honestas a peasant. He loved his country so well, that he would not doubt mybeing his countryman, for fear he should not have so much occasion tospeak of it. The lieutenant-governor, M. De Crouzas, had a gardener, whowas likewise from Paris, but not so complaisant; he thought the glory ofhis country concerned, when any one claimed that honor who was not reallyentitled to it; he put questions to me, therefore, with an air and tone, as if certain to detect me in a falsehood, and once, smiling malignantly, asked what was remarkable in the 'Marcheneuf'? It may be supposed Iasked the question; but I have since passed twenty years at Paris, andcertainly know that city, yet was the same question repeated at this day, I should be equally embarrassed to answer it, and from this embarrassmentit might be concluded I had never been there: thus, even when we meetwith truths, we are subject to build our opinions on circumstances, whichmay easily deceive us. 

I formed no ideas, while at Lausanne, that were worth recollecting, norcan I say exactly how long I remained there; I only know that not findingsufficient to subsist on, I went from thence to Neutchatel, where Ipassed the winter. Here I succeeded better, I got some scholars, andsaved enough to pay my good friend Perrotet, who had faithfully sent mybaggage, though at that time I was considerably in his debt. 

By continuing to teach music, I insensibly gained some knowledge of it. The life I led was sufficiently agreeable, and any reasonable man mighthave been satisfied, but my unsettled heart demanded something more. On Sundays, or whenever I had leisure, I wandered, sighing andthoughtful, about the adjoining woods, and when once out of the citynever returned before night. One day, being at Boudry, I went to dine ata public-house, where I saw a man with a long beard, dressed in aviolet-colored Grecian habit, with a fur cap, and whose air and mannerwere rather noble. This person found some difficulty in making himselfunderstood, speaking only an unintelligible jargon, which bore moreresemblance to Italian than any other language. I understood almost allhe said, and I was the only person present who could do so, for he wasobliged to make his request known to the landlord and others about him bysigns. On my speaking a few words in Italian, which he perfectlyunderstood, he got up and embraced me with rapture; a connection was soonformed, and from that moment, I became his interpreter. His dinner wasexcellent, mine rather worse than indifferent, he gave me an invitationto dine with him, which I accepted without much ceremony. Drinking andchatting soon rendered us familiar, and by the end of the repast we hadall the disposition in the world to become inseparable companions. Heinformed me he was a Greek prelate, and 'Archimandrite' of Jerusalem;that he had undertaken to make a gathering in Europe for thereestablishment of the Holy Sepulchre, and showed me some very finepatents from the czarina, the emperor, and several other sovereigns. He was tolerably content with what he had collected hitherto, though hehad experienced inconceivable difficulties in Germany; for notunderstanding a word of German, Latin, or French, he had been obliged tohave recourse to his Greek, Turkish Lingua Franca, which did not procurehim much in the country he was travelling through; his proposal, therefore, to me was, that I should accompany him in the quality ofsecretary and interpreter. In spite of my violet-colored coat, whichaccorded well enough with the proposed employment, he guessed from mymeagre appearance, that I should easily be gained; and he was notmistaken. The bargain was soon made, I demanded nothing, and he promisedliberally; thus, without any security or knowledge of the person I wasabout to serve, I gave myself up entirely to his conduct, and the nextday behold me on an expedition to Jerusalem. 

We began our expedition unsuccessfully by the canton of Fribourg. Episcopal dignity would not suffer him to play the beggar, or solicithelp from private individuals; but we presented his commission to theSenate, who gave him a trifling sum. From thence we went to Berne, wherewe lodged at the Falcon, then a good inn, and frequented by respectablecompany; the public table being well supplied and numerously attended. I had fared indifferently so long, that I was glad to make myself amends, therefore took care to profit by the present occasion. My lord, theArchimandrite, was himself an excellent companion, loved good cheer, wasgay, spoke well for those who understood him, and knew perfectly well howto make the most of his Grecian erudition. One day, at dessert whilecracking nuts, he cut his finger pretty deeply, and as it bled freelyshowed it to the company, saying with a laugh, "Mirate, signori; questo asangue Pelasgo. "

At Berne, I was not useless to him, nor was my performance so bad as Ihad feared: I certainly spoke better and with more confidence than Icould have done for myself. Matters were not conducted here with thesame simplicity as at Fribourg; long and frequent conferences werenecessary with the Premiers of the State, and the examination of histitles was not the work of a day; at length, everything being adjusted, he was admitted to an audience by the Senate; I entered with him asinterpreter, and was ordered to speak. I expected nothing less, for itnever entered my mind, that after such long and frequent conferences withthe members, it was necessary to address the assembly collectively, as ifnothing had been said. Judge my embarrassment!--a man so bashful tospeak, not only in public, but before the whole of the Senate of Berne!to speak impromptu, without a single moment for recollection; it wasenough to annihilate me--I was not even intimidated. I describeddistinctly and clearly the commission of the Archimandrite; extolled thepiety of those princes who had contributed, and to heighten that of theirexcellencies by emulation, added that less could not be expected fromtheir well--known munificence; then, endeavoring to prove that this goodwork was equally interesting to all Christians, without distinction ofsect; and concluded by promising the benediction of Heaven to all thosewho took part in it. I will not say that my discourse was the cause ofour success, but it was certainly well received; and on our quitting theArchimandrite was gratified by a very genteel present, to which some veryhandsome compliments were added on the understanding of his secretary;these I had the agreeable office of interpreting; but could not takecourage to render them literally. 

This was the only time in my life that I spoke in public, and before asovereign; and the only time, perhaps, that I spoke boldly and well. What difference in the disposition of the same person. Three years ago, having been to see my old friend, M. Roguin, at Yverdon, I received adeputation to thank me for some books I had presented to the library ofthat city; the Swiss are great speakers; these gentlemen, accordingly, made me a long harangue, which I thought myself obliged in honor toanswer, but so embarrassed myself in the attempt, that my head becameconfused, I stopped short, and was laughed at. Though naturally timid, I have sometimes acted with confidence in my youth, but never in myadvanced age: the more I have seen of the world the less I have been ableto adapt its manners. 

On leaving Berne, we went to Soleurre: the Archimandrite designing tore-enter Germany, and return through Hungary or Poland to his own country. This would have been a prodigious tour; but as the contents of his purserather increased than diminished during his journey, he was in no hasteto return. For me, who was almost as much pleased on horseback as onfoot, I would have desired no better than to have travelled thus duringmy whole life; but it was pre-ordained that my journey should soon end. 

The first thing we did after our arrival at Soleurre, was to pay ourrespects to the French ambassador there. Unfortunately for my bishop, this chanced to be the Marquis de Bonac, who had been ambassador at thePorte, and was acquainted with every particular relative to the HolySepulchre. The Archimandrite had an audience that lasted about a quarterof an hour, to which I was not admitted, as the ambassador spoke Frenchand Italian at least as well as myself. On my Grecian's retiring, I wasprepared to follow him, but was detained: it was now my turn. Havingcalled myself a Parisian, as such, I was under the jurisdiction of hisexcellency: he therefore asked me who I was? exhorting me to tell thetruth; this I promised to do, but entreated a private audience, which wasimmediately granted. The ambassador took me to his closet, and shut thedoor; there, throwing myself at his feet, I kept my word, nor should Ihave said less, had I promised nothing, for a continual wish to unbosommyself, puts my heart perpetually upon my lips. After having disclosedmyself without reserve to the musician Lutold, there was no occasion toattempt acting the mysterious with the Marquis de Bonac, who was so wellpleased with my little history, and the ingenuousness with which I hadrelated it, that he led me to the ambassadress, and presented me, with anabridgment of my recital. Madam de Bonac received me kindly, saying, I must not be suffered to follow that Greek monk. It was accordinglyresolved that I should remain at their hotel till something better couldbe done for me. I wished to bid adieu to my poor Archimandrite, for whomI had conceived an attachment, but was not permitted; they sent him wordthat I was to be detained there, and in quarter of an hour after, I sawmy little bundle arrive. M. De la Martiniere, secretary of the embassy, had in a manner the care of me; while following him to the chamberappropriated to my use, he said, "This apartment was occupied under theCount de Luc, by a celebrated man of the same name as yourself; it is inyour power to succeed him in every respect, and cause it to be saidhereafter, Rousseau the First, Rousseau the Second. " This similaritywhich I did not then expect, would have been less flattering to my wishescould I have foreseen at what price I should one day purchase thedistinction. 

What M. De la Martiniere had said excited my curiosity; I read the worksof the person whose chamber I occupied, and on the strength of thecompliment that had been paid me (imagining I had a taste for poetry)made my first essay in a cantata in praise of Madam de Bonac. Thisinclination was not permanent, though from time to time I have composedtolerable verses. I think it is a good exercise to teach elegant turnsof expression, and to write well in prose, but could never findattractions enough in French poetry to give entirely in to it. 

M. De la Martiniere wished to see my style, and asked me to write thedetail I had before made the ambassador; accordingly I wrote him a longletter, which I have since been informed was preserved by M. De Marianne, who had long been attached to the Marquis de Bonac, and has sincesucceeded M. De Martiniere as secretary to the embassy of M. DeCourtellies. 

The experience I began to acquire tended to moderate my romanticprojects; for example, I did not fall in love with Madam de Bonac, butalso felt I did not stand much chance of succeeding in the service of herhusband. M. De la Martiniere was already in the only place that couldhave satisfied my ambition, and M. De Marianne in expectancy: thus myutmost hopes could only aspire to the office of under secretary, whichdid not infinitely tempt me: this was the reason that when consulted onthe situation I should like to be placed in, I expressed a great desireto go to Paris. The ambassador readily gave in to the idea, which atleast tended to disembarrass him of me. M. De Mervilleux interpretingsecretary to the embassy, said, that his friend, M. Godard, a Swisscolonel, in the service of France, wanted a person to be with his nephew, who had entered very young into the service, and made no doubt that Ishould suit him. On this idea, so lightly formed, my departure wasdetermined; and I, who saw a long journey to perform with Paris at theend of it, was enraptured with the project. They gave me severalletters, a hundred livres to defray the expenses of my journey, accompanied with some good advice, and thus equipped I departed. 

I was a fortnight making the journey, which I may reckon among thehappiest days of my life. I was young, in perfect health, with plenty ofmoney, and the most brilliant hopes, add to this, I was on foot, andalone. It may appear strange, I should mention the latter circumstanceas advantageous, if my peculiarity of temper is not already familiar tothe reader. I was continually occupied with a variety of pleasingchimeras, and never did the warmth of my imagination produce moremagnificent ones. When offered an empty place in a carriage, or anyperson accosted me on the road, how vexed was I to see that fortuneoverthrown, whose edifice, while walking, I had taken such pains to rear. 

For once my ideas were all martial: I was going to live with a militaryman; nay, to become one, for it was concluded I should begin with being acadet. I already fancied myself in regimentals, with a fine whitefeather nodding on my hat, and my heart was inflamed by the noble idea. I had some smattering of geometry and fortification; my uncle was anengineer; I was in a manner a soldier by inheritance. My short sight, indeed, presented some little obstacle, but did not by any meansdiscourage me, as I reckoned to supply that defect by coolness andintrepidity. I had read, too, that Marshal Schomberg was remarkablyshortsighted, and why might not Marshal Rousseau be the same? Myimagination was so warm by these follies, that it presented nothing buttroops, ramparts, gabions, batteries, and myself in the midst of fire andsmoke, an eyeglass in hand, commanding with the utmost tranquility. Notwithstanding, when the country presented a delightful prospect, when Isaw charming groves and rivulets, the pleasing sight made me sigh withregret, and feel, in the midst of all this glory, that my heart was notformed for such havoc; and soon without knowing how, I found my thoughtswandering among my dear sheep-folds, renouncing forever the labor ofMars. 

How much did Paris disappoint the idea I had formed of it! The exteriordecorations I had seen at Turin, the beauty of the streets, the symmetryand regularity of the houses, contributed to this disappointment, since Iconcluded that Paris must be infinitely superior. I had figured tomyself a splendid city, beautiful as large, of the most commandingaspect, whose streets were ranges of magnificent palaces, composed ofmarble and gold. On entering the faubourg St. Marceau, I saw nothing butdirty stinking streets, filthy black houses, an air of slovenliness andpoverty, beggars, carters, butchers, cries of diet-drink and old hats. This struck me so forcibly, that all I have since seen of realmagnificence in Paris could never erase this first impression, which hasever given me a particular disgust to residing in that capital; and I maysay, the whole time I remained there afterwards, was employed in seekingresources which might enable me to live at a distance from it. This isthe consequence of too lively imagination, which exaggerates even beyondthe voice of fame, and ever expects more than is told. I have heardParis so flatteringly described, that I pictured it like the ancientBabylon, which, perhaps, had I seen, I might have found equally faulty, and unlike that idea the account had conveyed. The same thing happenedat the Opera-house, to which I hastened the day after my arrival! I wassensible of the same deficiency at Versailles! and some time after onviewing the sea. I am convinced this would ever be the consequence of atoo flattering description of any object; for it is impossible for man, and difficult even for nature herself, to surpass the riches of myimagination. 

By the reception I met with from all those to whom my letters wereaddressed, I thought my fortune was certainly made. The person whoreceived me the least kindly was M. De Surbeck, to whom I had thewarmest recommendation. He had retired from the service, and livedphilosophically at Bagneux, where I waited on him several times withouthis offering me even a glass of water. I was better received by Madam deMerveilleux, sister-in-law to the interpreter, and by his nephew, who wasan officer in the guards. The mother and son not only received mekindly, but offered me the use of their table, which favor I frequentlyaccepted during my stay at Paris. 

Madam de Merveilleux appeared to have been handsome; her hair was of afine black, which, according to the old mode, she wore curled on thetemples. She still retained (what do not perish with a set of features)the beauties of an amiable mind. She appeared satisfied with mine, anddid all she could to render me service; but no one seconded herendeavors, and I was presently undeceived in the great interest they hadseemed to take in my affairs. I must, however, do the French nation thejustice to say, they do not so exhaust themselves with protestations, as some have represented, and that those they make are usually sincere;but they have a manner of appearing interested in your affairs, which ismore deceiving than words. The gross compliments of the Swiss can onlyimpose upon fools; the manners of the French are more seducing, and atthe same time so simple, that you are persuaded they do not express allthey mean to do for you, in order that you may be the more agreeablysurprised. I will say more; they are not false in their protestations, being naturally zealous to oblige, humane, benevolent, and even (whatevermay be said to the contrary) more sincere than any other nation; but theyare too flighty: in effect they feel the sentiments they profess for you, but that sentiment flies off as instantaneously as it was formed. Inspeaking to you, their whole attention is employed on you alone, whenabsent you are forgotten. Nothing is permanent in their hearts, all isthe work of the moment. 

Thus I was greatly flattered, but received little service. ColonelGodard for whose nephew I was recommended, proved to be an avaricious oldwretch, who, on seeing my distress (though he was immensely rich), wishedto have my services for nothing, meaning to place me with his nephew, rather as a valet without wages than a tutor. He represented that as Iwas to be continually engaged with him, I should be excused from duty, and might live on my cadet's allowance; that is to say, on the pay of asoldier: hardly would he consent to give me a uniform, thinking theclothing of the army might serve. Madam de Merveilleux, provoked at hisproposals, persuaded me not to accept them; her son was of the sameopinion; something else was to be thought on, but no situation wasprocured. Meantime, I began to be necessitated; for the hundred livreswith which I had commenced my journey could not last much longer;happily, I received a small remittance from the ambassador, which wasvery serviceable, nor do I think he would have abandoned me had Ipossessed more patience; but languishing, waiting, soliciting, are to meimpossible: I was disheartened, displeased, and thus all my brilliantexpectations came once more to nothing. I had not all this timeforgotten my dear Madam de Warrens, but how was I to find her? Whereshould I seek her? Madam de Merveilleux, who knew my story, assisted mein the search, but for a long time unavailingly; at length, she informedme that Madam de Warrens had set out from Paris about two months before, but it was not known whether for Savoy or Turin, and that someconjectured she was gone to Switzerland. Nothing further was necessaryto fix my determination to follow her, certain that wherever she mightbe, I stood more chance of finding her at those places than I couldpossibly do at Paris. 

Before my departure, I exercised my new poetical talent in an epistle toColonel Godard, whom I ridiculed to the utmost of my abilities. I showedthis scribble to Madam de Merveilleux, who, instead of discouraging me, as she ought to have done, laughed heartily at my sarcasms, as well asher son, who, I believe, did not like M. Godard; indeed, it must beconfessed, he was a man not calculated to obtain affection. I wastempted to send him my verses, and they encouraged me in it; accordinglyI made them up in a parcel directed to him, and there being no post thenat Paris by which I could conveniently send this, I put it in my pocket, and sent it to him from Auxerre, as I passed through that place. Ilaugh, even yet, sometimes, at the grimaces I fancy he made on readingthis panegyric, where he was certainly drawn to the life; it began thus:

 Tu croyois, vieux Penard, qu' une folle manie D' elever ton neveu m'inspireroit l'envie. 

This little piece, which, it is true, was but indifferently written; didnot want for salt, and announced a turn for satire; it is, notwithstanding, the only satirical writing that ever came from my pen. I have too little hatred in my heart to take advantage of such a talent;but I believe it may be judged from those controversies, in which fromtime to time I have been engaged in my own defence, that had I been of avindictive disposition, my adversaries would rarely have had the laughteron their side. 

What I most regret, is not having kept a journal of my travels, beingconscious that a number of interesting details have slipped my memory;for never did I exist so completely, never live so thoroughly, never wasso much myself, if I dare use the expression, as in those journeys madeon foot. Walking animates and enlivens my spirits; I can hardly thinkwhen in a state of inactivity; my body must be exercised to make myjudgmemt active. The view of a fine country, a succession of agreeableprospects, a free air, a good appetite, and the health I gained bywalking; the freedom of inns, and the distance from everything that canmake me recollect the dependence of my situation, conspire to free mysoul, and give boldness to my thoughts, throwing me, in a manner, intothe immensity of beings, where I combine, choose and appropriate them tomy fancy, without constraint or fear. I dispose of all nature as Iplease; my heart wandering from object to object, approximates and uniteswith those that please it, is surrounded by charming images, and becomesintoxicated with delicious sensations. If, attempting to render thesepermanent, I am amused in describing to myself, what glow of coloring, what energy of expression, do I give them!--It has been said, that allthese are to be found in my works, though written in the decline of life. Oh! had those of my early youth been seen, those made during my travels, composed, but never written!--Why did I not write them? will be asked;and why should I have written them? I may answer. Why deprive myself ofthe actual charm of my enjoyments to inform others what I enjoyed? Whatto me were readers, the public, or all the world, while I was mountingthe empyrean. Besides, did I carry pens, paper and ink with me? Had Irecollected all these, not a thought would have occurred worthpreserving. I do not foresee when I shall have ideas; they come whenthey please, and not when I call for them; either they avoid mealtogether, or rushing in crowds, overwhelm me with their force andnumber. Ten volumes a day would not suffice barely to enumerate mythoughts; how then should I find time to write them? In stopping, Ithought of nothing but a hearty dinner; on departing, of nothing but acharming walk; I felt that a new paradise awaited me at the door, andeagerly leaped forward to enjoy it. 

Never did I experience this so feelingly as in the perambulation I am nowdescribing. On coming to Paris, I had confined myself to ideas whichrelated to the situation I expected to occupy there. I had rushed intothe career I was about to run, and should have completed it withtolerable eclat, but it was not that my heart adhered to. Some realbeings obscured my imagined ones--Colonel Godard and his nephew could notkeep pace with a hero of my disposition. Thank Heaven, I was soondelivered from all these obstacles, and could enter at pleasure into thewilderness of chimeras, for that alone remained before me, and I wanderedin it so completely that I several times lost my way; but this was nomisfortune, I would not have shortened it, for, feeling with regret, as Iapproached Lyons, that I must again return to the material world, Ishould have been glad never to have arrived there. 

One day, among others, having purposely gone out of my way to take anearer view of a spot that appeared delightful, I was so charmed with it, and wandered round it so often, that at length I completely lost myself, and after several hours' useless walking, weary, fainting with hunger andthirst, I entered a peasant's hut, which had not indeed a very promisingappearance, but was the only one I could discover near me. I thought itwas here, as at Geneva, or in Switzerland, where the inhabitants, livingat ease, have it in their power to exercise hospitality. I entreated thecountryman to give me some dinner, offering to pay for it: on which hepresented me with some skimmed milk and coarse barley--bread, saying itwas all he had. I drank the milk with pleasure, and ate the bread, chaffand all; but it was not very restorative to a man sinking with fatigue. The countryman, who watched me narrowly, judged the truth of my story bymy appetite, and presently (after having said that he plainly saw I wasan honest, good--natured young man, and did not come to betray him)opened a little trap door by the side of his kitchen, went down, andreturned a moment after with a good brown loaf of pure wheat, the remainsof a well-flavored ham, and a bottle of wine, the sight of which rejoicedmy heart more than all the rest: he then prepared a good thick omelet, and I made such a dinner as none but a walking traveller ever enjoyed. 

When I again offered to pay, his inquietude and fears returned; he notonly would have no money, but refused it with the most evident emotion;and what made this scene more amusing, I could not imagine the motive ofhis fear. At length, he pronounced tremblingly those terrible words, "Commissioners, " and "Cellar-rats, " which he explained by giving me tounderstand that he concealed his wine because of the excise, and hisbread on account of the tax imposed on it; adding, he should be an undoneman, if it was suspected he was not almost perishing with want. What hesaid to me on this subject (of which I had not the smallest idea) made animpression on my mind that can never be effaced, sowing seeds of thatinextinguishable hatred which has since grow up in my heart against thevexations these unhappy people suffer, and against their oppressors. This man, though in easy circumstances, dare not eat the bread gained bythe sweat of his brow, and could only escape destruction by exhibiting anoutward appearance of misery!--I left his cottage with as muchindignation as concern, deploring the fate of those beautiful countries, where nature has been prodigal of her gifts, only that they may becomethe prey of barbarous exactors. 

The incident which I have just related, is the only one I have a distinctremembrance of during this journey: I recollect, indeed, that onapproaching Lyons, I wished to prolong it by going to see the banks ofthe Lignon; for among the romances I had read with my father, Astrea wasnot forgotten and returned more frequently to my thoughts than any other. Stopping for some refreshment (while chatting with my hostess), Iinquired the way to Forez, and was informed that country was an excellentplace for mechanics, as there were many forges, and much iron work donethere. This eulogium instantly calmed my romantic curiosity, for I feltno inclination to seek Dianas and Sylvanders among a generation ofblacksmiths. The good woman who encouraged me with this piece ofinformation certainly thought I was a journeyman locksmith. 

I had some view in going to Lyons: on my arrival, I went to theChasattes, to see Mademoiselle du Chatelet, a friend of Madam de Warrens, for whom I had brought a letter when I came there with M. Le Maitre, so that it was an acquaintance already formed. Mademoiselle du Chateletinformed me her friend had passed through Lyons, but could not tellwhether she had gone on to Piedmont, being uncertain at her departurewhether it would not be necessary to stop in Savoy; but if I choose, she would immediately write for information, and thought my best planwould be to remain at Lyons till she received it. I accepted this offer;but did not tell Mademoiselle du Chatelet how much I was pressed for ananswer, and that my exhausted purse would not permit me to wait long. It was not an appearance of coolness that withheld me, on the contrary, I was very kindly received, treated on the footing of equality, and thistook from me the resolution of explaining my circumstances, for I couldnot bear to descend from a companion to a miserable beggar. 

I seem to have retained a very connecting remembrance of that part of mylife contained in this book; yet I think I remember, about the sameperiod, another journey to Lyons, (the particulars of which I cannotrecollect) where I found myself much straitened, and a confusedremembrance of the extremities to which I was reduced does not contributeto recall the idea agreeably. Had I been like many others, had Ipossessed the talent of borrowing and running in debt at every ale-houseI came to, I might have fared better; but in that my incapacity equalledmy repugnance, and to demonstrate the prevalence of both, it will besufficient to say, that though I have passed almost my whole life inindifferent circumstances, and frequently have been near wanting bread, I was never once asked for money by a creditor without having it in mypower to pay it instantly; I could never bear to contract clamorousdebts, and have ever preferred suffering to owing. 

Being reduced to pass my nights in the streets, may certainly be calledsuffering, and this was several times the case at Lyons, having preferredbuying bread with the few pence I had remaining, to bestowing them on alodging; as I was convinced there was less danger of dying for want ofsleep than of hunger. What is astonishing, while in this unhappysituation, I took no care for the future, was neither uneasy normelancholy, but patiently waited an answer to Mademoiselle du Chatelet'sletter, and lying in the open air, stretched on the earth, or on a bench, slept as soundly as if reposing on a bed of roses. I remember, particularly, to have passed a most delightful night at some distancefrom the city, in a road which had the Rhone, or Soane, I cannotrecollect which, on the one side, and a range of raised gardens, withterraces, on the other. It had been a very hot day, the evening wasdelightful, the dew moistened the fading grass, no wind was stirring, the air was fresh without chillness, the setting sun had tinged theclouds with a beautiful crimson, which was again reflected by the water, and the trees that bordered the terrace were filled with nightingales whowere continually answering each other's songs. I walked along in a kindof ecstasy, giving up my heart and senses to the enjoyment of so manydelights, and sighing only from a regret of enjoying them alone. Absorbed in this pleasing reverie, I lengthened my walk till it grew verylate, without perceiving I was tired; at length, however, I discoveredit, and threw myself on the step of a kind of niche, or false door, in the terrace wall. How charming was the couch! the trees formed astately canopy, a nightingale sat directly over me, and with his softnotes lulled me to rest: how pleasing my repose; my awaking more so. It was broad day; on opening my eyes I saw the water, the verdure, andthe admirable landscape before me. I arose, shook off the remains ofdrowsiness, and finding I was hungry, retook the way to the city, resolving, with inexpressible gayety, to spend the two pieces of sixfrancs I had yet remaining in a good breakfast. I found myself socheerful that I went all the way singing; I even remember I sang acantata of Batistin's called the Baths of Thomery, which I knew by heart. May a blessing light on the good Batistin and his good cantata, whichprocured me a better breakfast than I had expected, and a still betterdinner which I did not expect at all! In the midst of my singing, I heard some one behind me, and turning round perceived an Antonine, who followed after and seemed to listen with pleasure to my song. At length accosting me, he asked, If I understood music. I answered, "A little, " but in a manner to have it understood I knew a great deal, and as he continued questioning of me, related a part of my story. He asked me, If I had ever copied music? I replied, "Often, " which wastrue: I had learned most by copying. "Well, " continued he, "come withme, I can employ you for a few days, during which time you shall want fornothing; provided you consent not to quit my room. " I acquiesced verywillingly, and followed him. 

This Antonine was called M. Rotichon; he loved music, understood it, andsang in some little concerts with his friends; thus far all was innocentand right, but apparently this taste had become a furor, part of which hewas obliged to conceal. He conducted me into a chamber, where I found agreat quantity of music: he gave me some to copy, particularly thecantata he had heard me singing, and which he was shortly to singhimself. 

I remained here three or four days, copying all the time I did not eat, for never in my life was I so hungry, or better fed. M. Rolichon broughtmy provisions himself from the kitchen, and it appeared that these goodpriests lived well, at least if every one fared as I did. In my life, Inever took such pleasure in eating, and it must be owned this good cheercame very opportunely, for I was almost exhausted. I worked as heartilyas I ate, which is saying a great deal; 'tis true I was not as correct asdiligent, for some days after, meeting M. Rolichon in the street, heinformed me there were so many omissions, repetitions, andtranspositions, in the parts I had copied, that they could not beperformed. It must be owned, that in choosing the profession of music, I hit on that I was least calculated for; yet my voice was good and Icopied neatly; but the fatigue of long works bewilders me so much, thatI spend more time in altering and scratching out than in pricking down, and if I do not employ the strictest attention in comparing the severalparts, they are sure to fail in the execution. Thus, through endeavoringto do well, my performance was very faulty; for aiming at expedition, I did all amiss. This did not prevent M. Rolichon from treating me wellto the last, and giving me half-a-crown at my departure, which Icertainly did not deserve, and which completely set me up, for a few daysafter I received news from Madam de Warrens, who was at Chambery, withmoney to defray the expenses of my journey to her, which I performed withrapture. Since then my finances have frequently been very low, but neverat such an ebb as to reduce me to fasting, and I mark this period with aheart fully alive to the bounty of Providence, as the last of my life inwhich I sustained poverty and hunger. 

I remained at Lyons seven or eight days to wait for some littlecommissions with which Madam de Warrens had charged Mademoiselle duChatelet, who during this interval I visited more assiduously thanbefore, having the pleasure of talking with her of her friend, and beingno longer disturbed by the cruel remembrance of my situation, or painfulendeavors to conceal it. Mademoiselle du Chatelet was neither young norhandsome, but did not want for elegance; she was easy and obliging whileher understanding gave price to her familiarity. She had a taste forthat kind of moral observation which leads to the knowledge of mankind, and from her originated that study in myself. She was fond of the worksof Le Sage, particularly Gil Blas, which she lent me, and recommended tomy perusal. I read this performance with pleasure, but my judgment wasnot yet ripe enough to relish that sort of reading. I liked romanceswhich abounded with high-flown sentiments. 

Thus did I pass my time at the grate of Mademoiselle du Chatelet, with asmuch profit as pleasure. It is certain that the interesting and sensibleconversation of a deserving woman is more proper to form theunderstanding of a young man than all the pedantic philosophy of books. I got acquainted at the Chasattes with some other boarders and theirfriends, and among the rest, with a young person of fourteen, calledMademoiselle Serre, whom I did not much notice at that time, though I wasin love with her eight or nine years afterwards, and with great reason, for she was a most charming girl. 

I was fully occupied with the idea of seeing Madam de Warrens, and thisgave some respite to my chimeras, for finding happiness in real objectsI was the less inclined to seek it in nonentities. I had not only foundher, but also by her means, and near her, an agreeable situation, havingsent me word that she had procured one that would suit me, and by which Ishould not be obliged to quit her. I exhausted all my conjectures inguessing what this occupation could be, but I must have possessed the artof divination to have hit it on the right. I had money sufficient tomake my journey agreeable: Mademoiselle du Chatelet persuaded me to hirea horse, but this I could not consent to, and I was certainly right, for by so doing I should have lost the pleasure of the last pedestrianexpedition I ever made; for I cannot give that name to those excursions Ihave frequently taken about my own neighborhood, while I lived atMotiers. 

It is very singular that my imagination never rises so high as when mysituation is least agreeable or cheerful. When everything smiles aroundme, I am least amused; my heart cannot confine itself to realities, cannot embellish, but must create. Real objects strike me as they reallyare, my imagination can only decorate ideal ones. If I would paint thespring, it must be in winter; if describe a beautiful landscape, it mustbe while surrounded with walls; and I have said a hundred times, thatwere I confined in the Bastile, I could draw the most enchanting pictureof liberty. On my departure from Lyons, I saw nothing but an agreeablefuture, the content I now with reason enjoyed was as great as mydiscontent had been at leaving Paris, notwithstanding, I had not duringthis journey any of those delightful reveries I then enjoyed. My mindwas serene, and that was all; I drew near the excellent friend I wasgoing to see, my heart overflowing with tenderness, enjoying in advance, but without intoxication, the pleasure of living near her; I had alwaysexpected this, and it was as if nothing new had happened. Meantime, I was anxious about the employment Madam de Warrens had procured me, as if that alone had been material. My ideas were calm and peaceable, not ravishing and celestial; every object struck my sight in its naturalform; I observed the surrounding landscape, remarked the trees, thehouses, the springs, deliberated on the cross-roads, was fearful oflosing myself, yet did not do so; in a word, I was no longer in theempyrean, but precisely where I found myself, or sometimes perhaps atthe end of my journey, never farther. 

I am in recounting my travels, as I was in making them, loath to arriveat the conclusion. My heart beat with joy as I approached my dear Madamde Warrens, but I went no faster on that account. I love to walk at myease, and stop at leisure; a strolling life is necessary to me:travelling on foot, in a fine country, with fine weather and having anagreeable object to terminate my journey, is the manner of living of allothers most suited to my taste. 

It is already understood what I mean by a fine country; never can a flatone, though ever so beautiful, appear such in my eyes: I must havetorrents, fir trees, black woods, mountains to climb or descend, andrugged roads with precipices on either side to alarm me. I experiencedthis pleasure in its utmost extent as I approached Chambery, not far froma mountain which is called Pas de l'Echelle. Above the main road, whichis hewn through the rock, a small river runs and rushes into fearfulchasms, which it appears to have been millions of ages in forming. Theroad has been hedged by a parapet to prevent accidents, which enabled meto contemplate the whole descent, and gain vertigoes at pleasure; for agreat part of my amusement in these steep rocks, is, they cause agiddiness and swimming in my head, which I am particularly fond of, provided I am in safety; leaning, therefore, over the parapet, I remainedwhole hours, catching, from time to time, a glance of the froth and bluewater, whose rushing caught my ear, mingled with the cries of ravens, andother birds of prep that flew from rock to rock, and bush to bush, at sixhundred feet below me. In places where the slope was tolerably regular, and clear enough from bushes to let stones roll freely, I went aconsiderable way to gather them, bringing those I could but just carry, which I piled on the parapet, and then threw down one after the other, being transported at seeing them roll, rebound, and fly into a thousandpieces, before they reached the bottom of the precipice. 

Near Chambery I enjoyed an equal pleasing spectacle, though of adifferent kind; the road passing near the foot of the most charmingcascade I ever saw. The water, which is very rapid, shoots from the topof an excessively steep mountain, falling at such a distance from itsbase that you may walk between the cascade and the rock without anyinconvenience; but if not particularly careful it is easy to be deceivedas I was, for the water, falling from such an immense height, separates, and descends in a rain as fine as dust, and on approaching too near thiscloud, without perceiving it, you may be wet through in an instant. 

At length I arrived at Madam de Warrens; she was not alone, theintendant-general was with her. Without speaking a word to me, shecaught my hand, and presenting me to him with that natural grace whichcharmed all hearts, said: "This, sir, is the poor young man I mentioned;deign to protect him as long as he deserves it, and I shall feel noconcern for the remainder of his life. " Then added, addressing herselfto me, "Child, you now belong to the king, thank Monsieur the Intendant, who furnishes you with the means of existence. " I stared withoutanswering, without knowing what to think of all this; rising ambitionalmost turned my head; I was already prepared to act the intendantmyself. My fortune, however, was not so brilliant as I had imagined, butit was sufficient to maintain me, which, as I was situated, was a capitalacquisition. I shall now explain the nature of my employment. 

King Victor Amadeus, judging by the event of preceding wars, and thesituation of the ancient patrimony of his fathers, that he should notlong be able to maintain it, wished to drain it beforehand. Resolving, therefore, to tax the nobility, he ordered a general survey of the wholecountry, in order that it might be rendered more equal and productive. This scheme, which was begun under the father, was completed by the son:two or three hundred men, part surveyors, who were called geometricians, and part writers, who were called secretaries, were employed in thiswork: among those of the latter description Madam de Warrens had got meappointed. This post, without being very lucrative, furnished the meansof living eligibly in that country; the misfortune was, this employmentcould not be of any great duration, but it put me in train to procuresomething better, as by this means she hoped to insure the particularprotection of the intendant, who might find me some more settledoccupation before this was concluded. 

I entered on my new employment a few days after my arrival, and as therewas no great difficulty in the business, soon understood it; thus, afterfour or five years of unsettled life, folly, and suffering, since mydeparture from Geneva, I began, for the first time, to gain my bread withcredit. 

These long details of my early youth must have appeared trifling, and Iam sorry for it: though born a man, in a variety of instances, I was longa child, and am so yet in many particulars. I did not promise the publica great personage: I promised to describe myself as I am, and to know mein my advanced age it was necessary to have known me in my youth. As, in general, objects that are present make less impression on me than thebare remembrance of them (my ideas being all from recollection), thefirst traits which were engraven on my mind have distinctly remained:those which have since been imprinted there, have rather combined withthe former than effaced them. There is a certain, yet varied successionof affections and ideas, which continue to regulate those that followthem, and this progression must be known in order to judge rightly ofthose they have influenced. I have studied to develop the first causes, the better to show the concatenation of effects. I would be able by somemeans to render my soul transparent to the eyes of the reader, and forthis purpose endeavor to show it in every possible point of view, to givehim every insight, and act in such a manner, that not a motion shouldescape him, as by this means he may form a judgment of the principlesthat produce them. 

Did I take upon myself to decide, and say to the reader, "Such is mycharacter, " he might think that if I did not endeavor to deceive him, I at least deceived myself; but in, recounting simply all that hashappened to me, all my actions, thoughts, and feelings, I cannot lead himinto an error, unless I do it wilfully, which by this means I could noteasily effect, since it is his province to compare the elements, andjudge of the being they compose: thus the result must be his work, and ifhe is then deceived the error will be his own. It is not sufficient forthis purpose that my recitals should be merely faithful, they must alsobe minute; it is not for me to judge of the importance of facts, I oughtto declare them simply as they are, and leave the estimate that is to beformed of them to him. I have adhered to this principle hitherto, withthe most scrupulous exactitude, and shall not depart from it in thecontinuation; but the impressions of age are less lively than those ofyouth; I began by delineating the latter: should I recollect the restwith the same precision, the reader, may, perhaps, become weary andimpatient, but I shall not be dissatisfied with my labor. I have but onething to apprehend in this undertaking: I do not dread saying too much, or advancing falsities, but I am fearful of not saying enough, orconcealing truths.