Book: The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book IV.
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Jean Jacques Rousseau >> The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book IV.
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 uneasiness
increased when I learned the misfortunes that had befallen him. His box
of music, containing all his fortune, that precious box, preserved with
so much care and fatigue, had been seized on at Lyons by means of Count
Dortan, who had received information from the Chapter of our having
absconded with it. In vain did Le Maitre reclaim his property, his means
of existence, the labor of his life; his right to the music in question
was at least subject to litigation, but even that liberty was not allowed
him, the affair being instantly decided on the principal of superior
strength. Thus poor Le Maitre lost the fruit of his talents, the labor
of 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 be
sustained; accordingly I soon found consolation. I expected shortly
to 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 (all
things considered) I did not find it so very culpable. I had been
serviceable to him at his retreat; it was not in my power to give him any
further assistance. Had I remained with him in France it would not have
cured his complaint. I could not have saved his music, and should only
have doubled his expense: in this point of view I then saw my conduct;
I see it otherwise now. It frequently happens that a villainous action
does not torment us at the instant we commit it, but on recollection, and
sometimes even after a number of years have elapsed, for the remembrance
of crimes is not to be extinguished.
The only means I had to obtain news of Madam de Warrens was to remain at
Annecy. Where should I seek her in Paris? or how bear the expense of
such a journey? Sooner or later there was no place where I could be so
certain to hear of her as that I was now at; this consideration
determined me to remain there, though my conduct was very indifferent.
I did not go to the bishop, who had already befriended me, and might
continue to do so; my patroness was not present, and I feared his
reprimands on the subject of our flight; neither did I go to the
seminary, M. Graswas no longer there; in short, I went to none of my
acquaintances. I should gladly have visited the intendant's lady, but
did not dare; I did worse, I sought out M. Venture, whom (notwithstanding
my enthusiasm) I had never thought of since my departure. I found him
quite gay, in high spirits, and the universal favorite of the ladies of
Annecy.
This success completed my infatuation; I saw nothing but M. Venture; he
almost made me forget even Madam de Warrens. That I might profit more at
ease 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 but
trollop; an appellation which she certainly merited. Venture took care
to augment their differences, though under an appearance of doing the
direct contrary, throwing out in a distant manner, and provincial
accents, hints that produced the utmost effect, and furnished such scenes
as were sufficient to make any one die with laughter. Thus the mornings
passed without our thinking of them; at two or three o'clock we took some
refreshment. Venture then went to his various engagements, where he
supped, while I walked alone, meditating on his great merit, coveting and
admiring his rare talents, and cursing my own unlucky stars, that did not
call me to so happy a life. How little did I then know of myself! mine
had been a thousand times more delightful, had I not been such a fool, or
known better how to enjoy it.
Madam de Warrens had taken no one with her but Anet: Merceret, the
chambermaid, whom I have before mentioned, still remained in the house.
Merceret was something older than myself, not pretty, but tolerably
agreeable; good-natured, free from malice, having no fault to my
knowledge but being a little refractory with her mistress. I often went
to see her; she was an old acquaintance, who recalled to my remembrance
one more beloved, and this made her dear to me. She had several friends,
and among others one Mademoiselle Giraud, a Genevese, who, for the
punishment 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 with
her. 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, nothing
could increase the aversion I had for her. When she drew near me, with
her dried black snout, smeared with Spanish snuff, it was with the utmost
difficulty that I could refrain from expressing my distaste; but, being
pleased with her visitors, I took patience. Among these were two girls
who (either to pay their court to Mademoiselle Giraud or myself) paid me
every possible attention. I conceived this to be only friendship; but
have since thought it depended only on myself to have discovered
something 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 his
peculiar taste, this has ever been mine; being in this particular of a
different opinion from Horace. Yet it is not vanity of riches or rank
that attracts me; it is a well-preserved complexion, fine hands, elegance
of ornaments, an air of delicacy and neatness throughout the whole
person; more in taste, in the manner of expressing themselves, a finer or
better made gown, a well-turned ankle, small foot, ribbons, lace, and
well-dressed hair; I even prefer those who have less natural beauty,
provided they are elegantly decorated. I freely confess this preference
is very ridiculous; yet my heart gives in to it spite of my
understanding. Well, even this advantage presented itself, and it only
depended 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 at
so cheap a rate!--how fondly do I wish to dwell on them! Even yet the
remembrance of these scenes warms my heart with a chaste rapture, which
appears necessary to reanimate my drooping courage, and enable me to
sustain the weariness of my latter days.
The appearance of Aurora seemed so delightful one morning that, putting
on 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 after
midsummer; the earth was covered with verdure and flowers, the
nightingales, whose soft warblings were almost concluded, seemed to vie
with each other, and in concert with birds of various kinds to bid adieu
to spring, and hail the approach of a beautiful summer's day: one of
those lovely days that are no longer to be enjoyed at my age, and which
have never been seen on the melancholy soil I now inhabit.
I had rambled insensibly, to a considerable distance from the town--the
heat augmented--I was walking in the shade along a valley, by the side of
a brook, I heard behind me the steps of horses, and the voice of some
females who, though they seemed embarrassed, did not laugh the less
heartily on that account. I turn round, hear myself called by name, and
approaching, find two young people of my acquaintance, Mademoiselle de
G---- 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 imitated
Madam de Warrens, at whose house I had sometimes seen her; but not
having, like her, a pension, she had been fortunate in this attachment to
Mademoiselle Galley, who had prevailed on her mother to engage her young
friend 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 could
not 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 to
Madam Galley, and implored my assistance to make their horses cross the
stream, not being able to compass it themselves. I would have given each
a cut or two with the whip, but they feared I might be kicked, and
themselves thrown; I therefore had recourse to another expedient, I took
hold of Mademoiselle Galley's horse and led him through the brook, the
water reaching half-way up my legs. The other followed without any
difficulty. This done, I would have paid my compliments to the ladies,
and walked off like a great booby as I was, but after whispering each
other, Mademoiselle de G---- said, "No, no, you must not think to escape
thus; you have got wet in our service, and we ought in conscience to take
care and dry you. If you please you must go with us, you are now our
prisoner." 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 with
your mother; what will she say on my arrival?"--"Her mother," replied
Mademoiselle de G---- is not at Toune, we are alone, we shall return at
night, and you shall come back with us."
The stroke of electricity has not a more instantaneous effect than these
words produced on me. Leaping behind Mademoiselle de G----, I trembled
with joy, and when it became necessary to clasp her in order to hold
myself on, my heart beat so violently that she perceived it, and told me
hers beat also from a fear of falling. In my present posture, I might
naturally have considered this an invitation to satisfy myself of the
truth of her assertion, yet I did not dare, and during the whole way my
arm served as a girdle (a very close one, I must confess), without being
a moment displaced. Some women that may read this would be for giving me
a 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 a
moment. They had set me so thoroughly at ease, that my tongue spoke as
fast as my eyes, though not exactly the same things. Some minutes,
indeed, when I was left alone with either, the conversation became a
little embarrassed, but neither of them was absent long enough to allow
time for explaining the cause.
Arrived at Toune, and myself well dried, we breakfasted together; after
which it was necessary to settle the important business of preparing
dinner. The young ladies cooked, kissing from time to time the farmer's
children, while the poor scullion looked on grumbling. Provisions had
been sent for from town, and there was everything necessary for a good
dinner, but unhappily they had forgotten wine; this forgetfulness was by
no means astonishing to girls who seldom drank any, but I was sorry for
the omission, as I had reckoned on its help, thinking it might add to my
confidence. They were sorry likewise, and perhaps from the same motive;
though I have no reason to say this, for their lively and charming gayety
was innocence itself; besides, there were two of them, what could they
expect from me? they went everywhere about the neighborhood to seek for
wine, but none could be procured, so pure and sober are the peasants in
those parts. As they were expressing their concern, I begged them not to
give themselves any uneasiness on my account, for while with them I had
no occasion for wine to intoxicate me. This was the only gallantry I
ventured at during the whole of the day, and I believe the sly rogues saw
well enough that I said nothing but the truth.
We dined in the kitchen; the two friends were seated on the benches, one
on each side the long table, and their guest at the end, between them, on
a three--legged stool. What a dinner! how charming the remembrance!
While we can enjoy, at so small an expense, such pure, such true
delights, why should we be solicitous for others? Never did those
'petite soupes', so celebrated in Paris, equal this; I do not only say
for real pleasure and gayety, but even for sensuality.
After dinner, we were economical; instead of drinking the coffee we had
reserved 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 returned
the stones through the branches. One time, Mademoiselle Galley, holding
out her apron, and drawing back her head, stood so fair, and I took such
good aim, that I dropped a bunch into her bosom. On her laughing, I said
to myself, "Why are not my lips cherries? How gladly would I throw them
there likewise."
Thus the day passed with the greatest freedom, yet with the utmost
decency; not a single equivocal word, not one attempt at double-meaning
pleasantry; yet this delicacy was not affected, we only performed the
parts our hearts dictated; in short, my modesty, some will say my folly,
was such that the greatest familiarity that escaped me was once kissing
the hand of Mademoiselle Galley; it is true, the attending circumstances
helped to stamp a value on this trifling favor; we were alone, I was
embarrassed, her eyes were fixed on the ground, and my lips, instead of
uttering words, were pressed on her hand, which she drew gently back
after the salute, without any appearance of displeasure. I know not what
I should have said to her; but her friend entered, and at that moment I
thought her ugly.
At length, they bethought themselves, that they must return to town
before 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 pleased
myself, I should certainly have reversed this order, for the glance of
Mademoiselle Galley had reached my heart, but I dared not mention it,
and the proposal could not reasonably come from her. On the way, we
expressed our sorrow that the day was over, but far from complaining of
the shortness of its duration, we were conscious of having prolonged it
by every possible amusement.
I quitted them in nearly the same spot where I had taken them up. With
what regret did we part! With what pleasure did we form projects to
renew our meeting! Delightful hours, which we passed innocently
together, yet were worth ages of familiarity! The sweet remembrance of
those days cost those amiable girls nothing; the tender union which
reigned among us equalled more lively pleasures, with which it could not
have existed. We loved each other without shame or mystery, and wished
to continue our reciprocal affection. There is a species of enjoyment
connected with innocence of manners which is superior to any other,
because it has no interval; for myself, the remembrance of such a day
touches me nearer, delights me more, and returns with greater rapture to
my heart than any other pleasure I ever tasted. I hardly knew what I
wished with those charming girls. I do not say: that had the arrangement
been in my power, I should have divided my heart between them;
I certainly felt some degree of preference: though I should have been
happy 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 it
may, 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 here
our 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 adventures
concluded by a kiss of the hand: yet be not mistaken, reader, in your
estimate of my enjoyments; I have, perhaps, tasted more real pleasure in
my amours, which concluded by a kiss of the hand, than you will ever have
in yours, which, at least, begin there.
Venture, who had gone to bed late the night before, came in soon after
me. I did not now see him with my usual satisfaction, and took care not
to inform him how I had passed the day. The ladies had spoken of him
slightingly, and appeared discontented at finding me in such bad hands;
this hurt him in my esteem; besides, whatever diverted my ideas from them
was at this time disagreeable. However, he soon brought me back to him
and myself, by speaking of the situation of my affairs, which was too
critical to last; for, though I spent very little, my slender finances
were almost exhausted. I was without resource; no news of Madam de
Warrens; not knowing what would become of me, and feeling a cruel pang at
heart 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 by
means of his friends might render me essential service. In other
respects he was a desirable acquaintance, being a man of wit and letters,
of agreeable conversation, one who possessed talents and loved them in
others. After this discourse (mingling the most serious concerns with
the most trifling frivolity) he showed me a pretty couplet, which came
from 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, that
he determined to make another in answer to it, on the same air. He had
desired Venture to write one, and he wished me to make a third, that, as
he expressed it, they might see couplets start up next day like incidents
in a comic romance.
In the night (not being able to sleep) I composed a couplet, as my first
essay in poetry. It was passable; better, or at least composed with more
taste than it would have been the preceding night, the subject being
tenderness, to which my heart was now entirely disposed. In the morning
I showed my performance to Venture, who, being pleased with the couplet,
put it in his pocket, without informing me whether he had made his. We
dined with M. Simon, who treated us very politely. The conversation was
agreeable; indeed it could not be otherwise between two men of natural
good sense, improved by reading. For me, I acted my proper part, which
was to listen without attempting to join in the conversation. Neither of
them mentioned the couplet nor do I know that it ever passed for mine.
M. Simon appeared satisfied with my behavior; indeed, it was almost all
he 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 in
regard to the object I then had in view, was afterwards productive of
advantages which make me recollect it with pleasure. I should be wrong
not to give some account of this person, since from his office of
magistrate, and the reputation of wit on which he piqued himself, no idea
could be formed of it. The judge major, Simon, certainly was not two feet
high; his legs spare, straight, and tolerably long, would have added
something to his stature had they been vertical, but they stood in the
direction of an open pair of compasses. His body was not only short, but
thin, being in every respect of most inconceivable smallness--when naked
he must have appeared like a grasshopper. His head was of the common
size, to which appertained a well-formed face, a noble look, and
tolerably fine eyes; in short, it appeared a borrowed head, stuck on a
miserable stump. He might very well have dispensed with dress, for his
large wig alone covered him from head to foot.
He had two voices, perfectly different, which intermingled perpetually in
his conversation, forming at first a diverting, but afterwards a very
disagreeable contrast. One grave and sonorous, was, if I may hazard the
expression, the voice of his head: the other, clear, sharp, and piercing,
the voice of his body. When he paid particular attention, and spoke
leisurely, 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 voice
sounded like the whistling of a key, and it was with the utmost
difficulty that he could return to the bass.
With the figure I have just described, and which is by no means
overcharged, M. Simon was gallant, ever entertaining the ladies with
soft tales, and carrying the decoration of his person even to foppery.
Willing to make use of every advantage he, during the morning, gave
audience in bed, for when a handsome head was discovered on the pillow no
one could have imagined what belonged to it. This circumstance gave
birth 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 the
bed, 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 proceeded
and at length seeing a handsome head-dress set off with ribbons, was
about to leave the room, making the supposed lady a hundred apologies.
M. Simon, in a rage, screamed the more; and the countryman, yet more
confirmed in his opinion, conceiving himself to be insulted, began
railing in his turn, saying that, "Apparently, she was nothing better
than a common streetwalker, and that the judge major should be ashamed of
setting such ill examples." The enraged magistrate, having no other
weapon than the jordan under his bed, was just going to throw it at the
poor fellow's head as his servant returned.
This dwarf, ill-used by nature as to his person, was recompensed by
possessing an understanding naturally agreeable, and which he had been
careful to cultivate. Though he was esteemed a good lawyer, he did not
like his profession, delighting more in the finer parts of literature,
which he studied with success: above all, he possessed that superficial
brilliancy, the art of pleasing in conversation, even with the ladies.
He knew by heart a number of little stories, which he perfectly well knew
how to make the most of; relating with an air of secrecy, and as an
anecdote of yesterday, what happened sixty years before. He understood
music, and could sing agreeably; in short, for a magistrate, he had many
pleasing talents. By flattering the ladies of Annecy, he became
fashionable among them, appearing continually in their train. He even
pretended to favors, at which they were much amused. A Madam D'Epigny
used to say "The greatest favor he could aspire to, was to kiss a lady on
her knees."
As he was well read, and spoke fluently, his conversation was both
amusing and instructive. When I afterwards took a taste for study,
I cultivated his acquaintance, and found my account in it: when at
Chambery, I frequently went from thence to see him. His praises
increased my emulation, to which he added some good advice respecting the
prosecution of my studies, which I found useful. Unhappily, this weakly
body contained a very feeling soul. Some years after, he was chagrined
by I know not what unlucky affair, but it cost him his life. This was
really unfortunate, for he was a good little man, whom at a first
acquaintance one laughed at, but afterwards loved. Though our situations
in life were very little connected with each other, as I received some
useful lessons from him, I thought gratitude demanded that I should
dedicate a few sentences to his memory.
As soon as I found myself at liberty, I ran into the street where
Mademoiselle Galley lived, flattering myself that I should see someone go
in or out, or at least open a window, but I was mistaken, not even a cat
appeared, the house remaining as close all the time as if it had been
uninhabited. The street was small and lonely, any one loitering about
was, consequently, more likely to be noticed; from time to time people
passed in and out of the neighborhood; I was much embarrassed, thinking
my person might be known, and the cause that brought me there
conjectured; this idea tortured me, for I have ever preferred the honor
and happiness of those I love to my own pleasures.