Book: The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Complete

J >> Jean Jacques Rousseau >> The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Complete




Madam de Larnage persisted in such caressing behavior, that a much wiser
man than myself could hardly have taken it seriously. The more obvious
her advances were, the more I was confirmed in my mistake, and what
increased my torment, I found I was really in love with her.
I frequently said to myself, and sometimes to her, sighing, "Ah! why is
not all this real? then should I be the most fortunate of men." I am
inclined to think my stupidity did but increase her resolution, and make
her determined to get the better of it.

We left Madam du Colombier at Romans; after which Madam de Larnage, the
Marquis de Torignan, and myself continued our route slowly, and in the
most agreeable manner. The marquis, though indisposed, and rather
ill-humored, was an agreeable companion, but was not best pleased at
seeing the lady bestow all her attentions on me, while he passed
unregarded; for Madam de Larnage took so little care to conceal her
inclination, that he perceived it sooner than I did, and his sarcasms
must have given me that confidence I could not presume to take from the
kindness of the lady, if by a surmise, which no one but myself could
have blundered on, I had not imagined they perfectly understood each
other, and were agreed to turn my passion into ridicule. This foolish
idea completed my stupidity, making me act the most ridiculous part,
while, had I listened to the feelings of my heart, I might have been
performing one far more brilliant. I am astonished that Madam de
Larnage was not disgusted at my folly, and did not discard me with
disdain; but she plainly perceived there was more bashfulness than
indifference in my composition.

We arrived at Valence to dinner, and according to our usual custom passed
the remainder of the day there. We lodged out of the city, at the St.
James, an inn I shall never forget. After dinner, Madam de Larnage
proposed a walk; she knew the marquis was no walker, consequently, this
was an excellent plan for a tete-a-tete, which she was predetermined to
make the most of. While we were walking round the city by the side of
the moats, I entered on a long history of my complaint, to which she
answered in so tender an accent, frequently pressing my arm, which she
held to her heart, that it required all my stupidity not to be convinced
of the sincerity of her attachment. I have already observed that she was
amiable; love rendered her charming, adding all the loveliness of youth:
and she managed her advances with so much art, that they were sufficient
to have seduced the most insensible: I was, therefore, in very uneasy
circumstances, and frequently on the point of making a declaration; but
the dread of offending her, and the still greater of being laughed at,
ridiculed, made table-talk, and complimented on my enterprise by the
satirical marquis, had such unconquerable power over me, that, though
ashamed of my ridiculous bashfulness, I could not take courage to
surmount it. I had ended the history of my complaints, which I felt the
ridiculousness of at this time; and not knowing how to look, or what to
say, continued silent, giving the finest opportunity in the world for
that ridicule I so much dreaded. Happily, Madam de Larnage took a more
favorable resolution, and suddenly interrupted this silence by throwing
her arms round my neck, while, at the same instant, her lips spoke too
plainly on mine to be any longer misunderstood. This was reposing that
confidence in me the want of which has almost always prevented me from
appearing myself: for once I was at ease, my heart, eyes and tongue,
spoke freely what I felt; never did I make better reparation for my
mistakes, and if this little conquest had cost Madam de Larnage some
difficulties, I have reason to believe she did not regret them.

Was I to live a hundred years, I should never forget this charming woman.
I say charming, for though neither young nor beautiful, she was neither
old nor ugly, having nothing in her appearance that could prevent her wit
and accomplishments from producing all their effects. It was possible to
see her without falling in love, but those she favored could not fail to
adore her; which proves, in my opinion, that she was not generally so
prodigal of her favors. It is true, her inclination for me was so sudden
and lively, that it scarce appears excusable; though from the short, but
charming interval I passed with her, I have reason to think her heart was
more influenced than her passions.

Our good intelligence did not escape the penetration of the marquis; not
that he discontinued his usual raillery; on the contrary, he treated me
as a sighing, hopeless swain, languishing under the rigors of his
mistress; not a word, smile, or look escaped him by which I could imagine
he suspected my happiness; and I should have thought him completely
deceived, had not Madam de Larnage, who was more clear-sighted than
myself, assured me of the contrary; but he was a well-bred man, and it
was impossible to behave with more attention or greater civility, than he
constantly paid me (notwithstanding his satirical sallies), especially
after my success, which, as he was unacquainted with my stupidity, he
perhaps gave me the honor of achieving. It has already been seen that he
was mistaken in this particular; but no matter, I profited by his error,
for being conscious that the laugh was on my side, I took all his sallies
in good part, and sometimes parried them with tolerable success; for,
proud of the reputation of wit which Madam de Larnage had thought fit to
discover in me, I no longer appeared the same man.

We were both in a country and season of plenty, and had everywhere
excellent cheer, thanks to the good cares of the marquis; though I would
willingly have relinquished this advantage to have been more satisfied
with the situation of our chambers; but he always sent his footman on to
provide them; and whether of his own accord, or by the order of his
master, the rogue always took care that the marquis' chamber should be
close by Madam de Larnage's, while mine was at the further end of the
house: but that made no great difference, or perhaps it rendered our
rendezvous the more charming; this happiness lasted four or five days,
during which time I was intoxicated with delight, which I tasted pure and
serene without any alloy; an advantage I could never boast before; and,
I may add, it is owing to Madam de Larnage that I did not go out of the
world without having tasted real pleasure.

If the sentiment I felt for her was not precisely love, it was at least a
very tender return of what she testified for me; our meetings were so
delightful, that they possessed all the sweets of love; without that kind
of delirium which affects the brain, and even tends to diminish our
happiness. I never experienced true love but once in my life, and that
was not with Madam de Larnage, neither did I feel that affection for her
which I had been sensible of, and yet continued to possess, for Madam de
Warrens; but for this very reason, our tete-a-tetes were a hundred times
more delightful. When with Madam de Warrens, my felicity was always
disturbed by a secret sadness, a compunction of heart, which I found it
impossible to surmount. Instead of being delighted at the acquisition of
so much happiness, I could not help reproaching myself for contributing
to render her I loved unworthy: on the contrary, with Madam de Lamage,
I was proud of my happiness, and gave in to it without repugnance, while
my triumph redoubled every other charm.

I do not recollect exactly where we quitted the marquis, who resided in
this country, but I know we were alone on our arrival at Montelimar,
where Madam de Larnage made her chambermaid get into my chaise, and
accommodate me with a seat in hers. It will easily be believed, that
travelling in this manner was by no means displeasing to me, and that I
should be very much puzzled to give any account of the country we passed
through. She had some business at Montelimar, which detained her there
two or three days; during this time she quitted me but one quarter of an
hour, for a visit she could not avoid, which embarrassed her with a
number of invitations she had no inclination to accept, and therefore
excused herself by pleading some indisposition; though she took care this
should not prevent our walking together every day, in the most charming
country, and under the finest sky imaginable. Oh! these three days!
what reason have I to regret them! Never did such happiness return
again.

The amours of a journey cannot be very durable: it was necessary we
should part, and I must confess it was almost time; not that I was weary
of my happiness, but I might as well have been. We endeavored to comfort
each other for the pain of parting, by forming plans for our reunion; and
it was concluded, that after staying five or six weeks at Montpelier
(which would give Madam de Larnage time to prepare for my reception in
such a manner as to prevent scandal) I should return to Saint-Andiol, and
spend the winter under her direction. She gave me ample instruction on
what it was necessary I should know, on what it would be proper to say;
and how I should conduct myself. She spoke much and earnestly on the
care of my health, conjured me to consult skilful physicians, and be
attentive and exact in following their prescriptions whatever they might
happen to be. I believe her concern was sincere, for she loved me, and
gave proofs of her affection less equivocal than the prodigality of her
favors; for judging by my mode of travelling, that I was not in very
affluent circumstances (though not rich herself), on our parting, she
would have had me share the contents of her purse, which she had brought
pretty well furnished from Grenoble, and it was with great difficulty I
could make her put up with a denial. In a word, we parted; my heart full
of her idea, and leaving in hers (if I am not mistaken) a firm attachment
to me.

While pursuing the remainder of my journey, remembrance ran over
everything that had passed from the commencement of it, and I was well
satisfied at finding myself alone in a comfortable chaise, where I could
ruminate at ease on the pleasures I had enjoyed, and those which awaited
my return. I only thought of Saint-Andiol; of the life I was to lead
there; I saw nothing but Madam de Larnage, or what related to her; the
whole universe besides was nothing to me--even Madam de Warrens was
forgotten!--I set about combining all the details by which Madam de
Larnage had endeavored to give me in advance an idea of her house, of the
neighborhood, of her connections, and manner of life, finding everything
charming.

She had a daughter, whom she had often described in the warmest terms of
maternal affection: this daughter was fifteen lively, charming, and of an
amiable disposition. Madam de Larnage promised me her friendship; I had
not forgotten that promise, and was curious to know how Mademoiselle de
Larnage would treat her mother's 'bon ami'. These were the subjects of
my reveries from the bridge of St. Esprit to Remoulin: I had been advised
to visit the Pont-du-Gard; hitherto I had seen none of the remaining
monuments of Roman magnificence, and I expected to find this worthy the
hands by which it was constructed; for once, the reality surpassed my
expectation; this was the only time in my life it ever did so, and the
Romans alone could have produced that effect. The view of this noble and
sublime work, struck me the more forcibly, from being in the midst of a
desert, where silence and solitude render the majestic edifice more
striking, and admiration more lively, for though called a bridge it is
nothing more than an aqueduct. One cannot help exclaiming, what strength
could have transported these enormous stones so far from any quarry? And
what motive could have united the labors of so many millions of men, in a
place that no one inhabited? I remained here whole hours, in the most
ravishing contemplation, and returned pensive and thoughtful to my inn.
This reverie was by no means favorable to Madam de Larnage; she had taken
care to forewarn me against the girls of Montpelier, but not against the
Pont-du-Gard--it is impossible to provide for every contingency.

On my arrival at Nismes, I went to see the amphitheatre, which is a far
more magnificent work than even the Pont-du-Gard, yet it made a much less
impression on me, perhaps, because my admiration had been already
exhausted on the former object; or that the situation of the latter, in
the midst of a city, was less proper to excite it. This vast and superb
circus is surrounded by small dirty houses, while yet smaller and dirtier
fill up the area, in such a manner that the whole produces an unequal and
confused effect, in which regret and indignation stifle pleasure and
surprise. The amphitheatre at Verona is a vast deal smaller, and less
beautiful than that at Nismes, but preserved with all possible care and
neatness, by which means alone it made a much stronger and more agreeable
impression on me. The French pay no regard to these things, respect no
monument of antiquity; ever eager to undertake, they never finish, nor
preserve anything that is already finished to their hands.

I was so much better, and had gained such an appetite by exercise, that I
stopped a whole day at Pont-du-Lunel, for the sake of good entertainment
and company, this being deservedly esteemed at that time the best inn in
Europe; for those who kept it, knowing how to make its fortunate
situation turn to advantage, took care to provide both abundance and
variety. It was really curious to find in a lonely country-house, a
table every day furnished with sea and fresh-water fish, excellent game,
and choice wines, served up with all the attention and care, which are
only to be expected among the great or opulent, and all this for thirty
five sous each person: but the Pont-du-Lunel did not long remain on this
footing, for the proprietor, presuming too much on its reputation, at
length lost it entirely.

During this journey, I really forgot my complaints, but recollected them
again on my arrival at Montpelier. My vapors were absolutely gone, but
every other complaint remained, and though custom had rendered them less
troublesome, they were still sufficient to make any one who had been
suddenly seized with them, suppose himself attacked by some mortal
disease. In effect they were rather alarming than painful, and made the
mind suffer more than the body, though it apparently threatened the
latter with destruction. While my attention was called off by the
vivacity of my passions, I paid no attention to my health; but as my
complaints were not altogether imaginary, I thought of them seriously
when the tumult had subsided. Recollecting the salutary advice of Madam
de Larnage, and the cause of my journey, I consulted the most famous
practitioners, particularly Monsieur Fizes; and through superabundance of
precaution boarded at a doctor's who was an Irishman, and named
Fitz-Morris.

This person boarded a number of young gentlemen who were studying physic;
and what rendered his house very commodious for an invalid, he contented
himself with a moderate pension for provisions, lodging, etc., and took
nothing of his boarders for attendance as a physician. He even undertook
to execute the orders of M. Fizes, and endeavored to re-establish my
health. He certainly acquitted himself very well in this employment; as
to regimen, indigestions were not to be gained at his table; and though I
am not much hurt at privations of that kind, the objects of comparison
were so near, that I could not help thinking with myself sometimes, that
M. de Torignan was a much better provider than M. Fitz-Morris;
notwithstanding, as there was no danger of, dying with hunger, and all
the youths were gay and good-humored, I believe this manner of living was
really serviceable, and prevented my falling into those languors I had
latterly been so subject to. I passed the morning in taking medicines,
particularly, I know not what kind of waters, but believe they were those
of Vals, and in writing to Madam de Larnage: for the correspondence was
regularly kept up, and Rousseau kindly undertook to receive these letters
for his good friend Dudding. At noon I took a walk to the Canourgue,
with some of our young boarders, who were all very good lads; after this
we assembled for dinner; when this was over, an affair of importance
employed the greater part of us till night; this was going a little way
out of town to take our afternoon's collation, and make up two or three
parties at mall, or mallet. As I had neither strength nor skill, I did
not play myself but I betted on the game, and, interested for the success
of my wager, followed the players and their balls over rough and stony
roads, procuring by this means both an agreeable and salutary exercise.
We took our afternoon's refreshment at an inn out of the city. I need
not observe that these meetings were extremely merry, but should not omit
that they were equally innocent, though the girls of the house were very
pretty. M. Fitz-Morris (who was a great mall player himself) was our
president; and I must observe, notwithstanding the imputation of wildness
that is generally bestowed on students, that I found more virtuous
dispositions among these youths than could easily be found among an equal
number of men: they were rather noisy than fond of wine, and more merry
than libertine.

I accustomed myself so much to this mode of life, and it accorded so
entirely with my humor, that I should have been very well content with a
continuance of it. Several of my fellow-boarders were Irish, from whom I
endeavored to learn some English words, as a precaution for Saint-Andiol.
The time now drew near for my departure; every letter Madam de Larnage
wrote, she entreated me not to delay it, and at length I prepared to obey
her.

I was convinced that the physicians (who understood nothing of my
disorder) looked on my complaint as imaginary, and treated me
accordingly, with their waters and whey. In this respect physicians and
philosophers differ widely from theologians; admitting the truth only of
what they can explain, and making their knowledge the measure of
possibilities. These gentlemen understood nothing of my illness,
therefore concluded I could not be ill; and who would presume to doubt
the profound skill of a physician? I plainly saw they only meant to
amuse, and make me swallow my money; and judging their substitute at
Saint-Andiol would do me quite as much service, and be infinitely more
agreeable, I resolved to give her the preference; full, therefore, of
this wise resolution, I quitted Montpelier.

I set off towards the end of November, after a stay of six weeks or two
months in that city, where I left a dozen louis, without either my health
or understanding being the better for it, except from a short course of
anatomy begun under M. Fitz-Morris, which I was soon obliged to abandon,
from the horrid stench of the bodies he dissected, which I found it
impossible to endure.

Not thoroughly satisfied in my own mind on the rectitude of this
expedition, as I advanced towards the Bridge of St. Esprit (which was
equally the road to Saint-Andiol and to Chambery) I began to reflect on
Madam de Warrens, the remembrance of whose letters, though less frequent
than those from Madam de Larnage, awakened in my heart a remorse that
passion had stifled in the first part of my journey, but which became so
lively on my return, that, setting just estimate on the love of pleasure,
I found myself in such a situation of mind that I could listen wholly to
the voice of reason. Besides, in continuing to act the part of an
adventurer, I might be less fortunate than I had been in the beginning;
for it was only necessary that in all Saint-Andiol there should be one
person who had been in England, or who knew the English or anything of
their language, to prove me an impostor. The family of Madam de Larnage
might not be pleased with me, and would, perhaps, treat me unpolitely;
her daughter too made me uneasy, for, spite of myself, I thought more of
her than was necessary. I trembled lest I should fall in love with this
girl, and that very fear had already half done the business. Was I
going, in return for the mother's kindness, to seek the ruin of the
daughter? To sow dissension, dishonor, scandal, and hell itself, in her
family? The very idea struck me with horror, and I took the firmest
resolution to combat and vanquish this unhappy attachment, should I be so
unfortunate as to experience it. But why expose myself to this danger?
How miserable must the situation be to live with the mother, whom I
should be weary of, and sigh for the daughter, without daring to make
known my affection! What necessity was there to seek this situation, and
expose myself to misfortunes, affronts and remorse, for the sake of
pleasures whose greatest charm was already exhausted? For I was sensible
this attachment had lost its first vivacity. With these thoughts were
mingled reflections relative to my situation and duty to that good and
generous friend, who already loaded with debts, would become more so from
the foolish expenses I was running into, and whom I was deceiving so
unworthily. This reproach at length became so keen that it triumphed
over every temptation, and on approaching the bridge of St. Esprit I
formed the resolution to burn my whole magazine of letters from
Saint-Andiol, and continue my journey right forward to Chambery.

I executed this resolution courageously, with some sighs I confess, but
with the heart-felt satisfaction, which I enjoyed for the first time in
my life, of saying, "I merit my own esteem, and know how to prefer duty
to pleasure." This was the first real obligation I owed my books, since
these had taught me to reflect and compare. After the virtuous
principles I had so lately adopted, after all the rules of wisdom and
honor I had proposed to myself, and felt so proud to follow, the shame of
possessing so little stability, and contradicting so egregiously my own
maxims, triumphed over the allurements of pleasure. Perhaps, after all,
pride had as much share in my resolution as virtue; but if this pride is
not virtue itself, its effects are so similar that we are pardonable in
deceiving ourselves.

One advantage resulting from good actions is that they elevate the soul
to a disposition of attempting still better; for such is human weakness,
that we must place among our good deeds an abstinence from those crimes
we are tempted to commit. No sooner was my resolution confirmed than I
became another man, or rather, I became what I was before I had erred,
and saw in its true colors what the intoxication of the moment had either
concealed or disguised. Full of worthy sentiments and wise resolutions,
I continued my journey, intending to regulate my future conduct by the
laws of virtue, and dedicate myself without reserve to that best of
friends, to whom I vowed as much fidelity in future as I felt real
attachment. The sincerity of this return to virtue appeared to promise a
better destiny; but mine, alas! was fixed, and already begun: even at
the very moment when my heart, full of good and virtuous sentiments, was
contemplating only innocence and happiness through life, I touched on the
fatal period that was to draw after it the long chain of my misfortunes!

My impatience to arrive at Chambery had made me use more diligence than I
meant to do. I had sent a letter from Valence, mentioning the day and
hour I should arrive, but I had gained half a day on this calculation,
which time I passed at Chaparillan, that I might arrive exactly at the
time I mentioned. I wished to enjoy to its full extent the pleasure of
seeing her, and preferred deferring this happiness a little, that
expectancy might increase the value of it. This precaution had always
succeeded; hitherto my arrival had caused a little holiday; I expected no
less this time, and these preparations, so dear to me, would have been
well worth the trouble of contriving them.

I arrived then exactly at the hour, and while at a considerable distance,
looked forward with an expectancy of seeing her on the road to meet me.
The beating of my heart increased as I drew near the house; at length I
arrived, quite out of breath; for I had left my chaise in the town. I
see no one in the garden, at the door, or at the windows; I am seized
with terror, fearful that some accident has happened. I enter; all is
quiet; the laborers are eating their luncheon in the kitchen, and far
from observing any preparation, the servants seem surprised to see me,
not knowing I was expected. I go up--stairs, at length see her!--that
dear friend! so tenderly, truly, and entirely beloved. I instantly ran
towards her, and threw myself at her feet. "Ah! child!" said she, "art
thou returned then!" embracing me at the same time. "Have you had a
good journey? How do you do?" This reception amused me for some
moments. I then asked, whether she had received my letter? she answered
"Yes."--"I should have thought not," replied I; and the information
concluded there. A young man was with her at this time. I recollected
having seen him in the house before my departure, but at present he
seemed established there; in short, he was so; I found my place already
supplied!

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