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

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




Tormented, beaten by storms from every quarter, and, for several years
past, fatigued by journeys and persecution, I strongly felt a want of the
repose of which my barbarous enemies wantonly deprived me: I sighed more
than ever after that delicious indolence, that soft tranquillity of body
and mind, which I had so much desired, and to which, now that I had
recovered from the chimeras of love and friendship, my heart limited its
supreme felicity. I viewed with terror the work I was about to
undertake; the tumultuous life into which I was to enter made me tremble,
and if the grandeur, beauty, and utility of the object animated my
courage, the impossibility of conquering so many difficulties entirely
deprived me of it.

Twenty years of profound meditation in solitude would have been less
painful to me than an active life of six months in the midst of men and
public affairs, with a certainty of not succeeding in my undertaking.

I thought of an expedient which seemed proper to obviate every
difficulty. Pursued by the underhand dealings of my secret persecutors
to every place in which I took refuge, and seeing no other except Corsica
where I could in my old days hope for the repose I had until then been
everywhere deprived of, I resolved to go there with the directions of M.
Buttafuoco as soon as this was possible, but to live there in
tranquillity; renouncing, in appearance, everything relative to
legislation, and, in some measure, to make my hosts a return for their
hospitality, to confine myself to writing in the country the history of
the Corsicans, with a reserve in my own mind of the intention of secretly
acquiring the necessary information to become more useful to them should
I see a probability of success. In this manner, by not entering into an
engagement, I hoped to be enabled better to meditate in secret and more
at my ease, a plan which might be useful to their purpose, and this
without much breaking in upon my dearly beloved solitude, or submitting
to a kind of life which I had ever found insupportable.

But the journey was not, in my situation, a thing so easy to get over.
According to what M. Dastier had told me of Corsica, I could not expect
to find there the most simple conveniences of life, except such as I
should take with me; linen, clothes, plate, kitchen furniture, and books,
all were to be conveyed thither. To get there myself with my
gouvernante, I had the Alps to cross, and in a journey of two hundred
leagues to drag after me all my baggage; I had also to pass through the
states of several sovereigns, and according to the example set to all
Europe, I had, after what had befallen me, naturally to expect to find
obstacles in every quarter, and that each sovereign would think he did
himself honor by overwhelming me with some new insult, and violating in
my person all the rights of persons and humanity. The immense expense,
fatigue, and risk of such a journey made a previous consideration of
them, and weighing every difficulty, the first step necessary. The idea
of being alone, and, at my age, without resource, far removed from all my
acquaintance, and at the mercy of these semi-barbarous and ferocious
people, such as M. Dastier had described them to me, was sufficient to
make me deliberate before I resolved to expose myself to such dangers.
I ardently wished for the interview for which M. Buttafuoco had given me
reason to hope, and I waited the result of it to guide me in my
determination.

Whilst I thus hesitated came on the persecutions of Motiers, which
obliged me to retire. I was not prepared for a long journey, especially
to Corsica. I expected to hear from Buttafuoco; I took refuge in the
island of St. Peter, whence I was driven at the beginning of winter, as I
have already stated. The Alps, covered with snow, then rendered my
emigration impracticable, especially with the promptitude required from
me. It is true, the extravagant severity of a like order rendered the
execution of it almost impossible; for, in the midst of that concentred
solitude, surrounded by water, and having but twenty-four hours after
receiving the order to prepare for my departure, and find a boat and
carriages to get out of the island and the territory, had I had wings,
I should scarcely have been able to pay obedience to it. This I wrote to
the bailiff of Nidau, in answer to his letter, and hastened to take my
departure from a country of iniquity. In this manner was I obliged to
abandon my favorite project, for which reason, not having in my
oppression been able to prevail upon my persecutors to dispose of me
otherwise, I determined, in consequence of the invitation of my lord
marshal, upon a journey to Berlin, leaving Theresa to pass the winter in
the island of St. Peter, with my books and effects, and depositing my
papers in the hands of M. du Peyrou. I used so much diligence that the
next morning I left the island and arrived at Bienne before noon. An
accident, which I cannot pass over in silence, had here well nigh put an
end to my journey.

As soon as the news or my having received an order to quit my asylum was
circulated, I received a great number of visits from the neighborhood,
and especially from the Bernois, who came with the most detestable
falsehood to flatter and soothe me, protesting that my persecutors had
seized the moment of the vacation of the senate to obtain and send me the
order, which, said they, had excited the indignation of the two hundred.
Some of these comforters came from the city of Bienne, a little free
state within that of Berne, and amongst others a young man of the name of
Wildremet whose family was of the first rank, and had the greatest credit
in that city. Wildremet strongly solicited me in the name of his
fellow-citizens to choose my retreat amongst them, assuring me that they
were anxiously desirous of it, and that they would think it an honor and
their duty to make me forget the persecutions I had suffered; that with
them I had nothing to fear from the influence of the Bernois, that
Bienne was a free city, governed by its own laws, and that the citizens
were unanimously resolved not to hearken to any solicitation which
should be unfavorable to me.

Wildremet perceiving all he could say to be ineffectual, brought to his
aid several other persons, as well from Bienne and the environs as from
Berne; even, and amongst others, the same Kirkeberguer, of whom I have
spoken, who, after my retreat to Switzerland had endeavored to obtain my
esteem, and by his talents and principles had interested me in his favor.
But I received much less expected and more weighty solicitations from M.
Barthes, secretary to the embassy from France, who came with Wildremet to
see me, exhorted me to accept his invitation, and surprised me by the
lively and tender concern he seemed to feel for my situation. I did not
know M. Barthes; however I perceived in what he said the warmth and zeal
of friendship, and that he had it at heart to persuade me to fix my
residence at Bienne. He made the most pompous eulogium of the city and
its inhabitants, with whom he showed himself so intimately connected as
to call them several times in my presence his patrons and fathers.

This from Barthes bewildered me in my conjectures. I had always
suspected M. de Choisuel to be the secret author of all the persecutions
I suffered in Switzerland. The conduct of the resident of Geneva,
and that of the ambassador at Soleure but too much confirmed my
suspicion; I perceived the secret influence of France in everything that
happened to me at Berne, Geneva and Neuchatel, and I did not think I had
any powerful enemy in that kingdom, except the Duke de Choiseul. What
therefore could I think of the visit of Barthes and the tender concern he
showed for my welfare? My misfortunes had not yet destroyed the
confidence natural to my heart, and I had still to learn from experience
to discern snares under the appearance of friendship. I sought with
surprise the reason of the benevolence of M. Barthes; I was not weak
enough to believe he had acted from himself; there was in his manner
something ostentatious, an affectation even which declared a concealed
intention, and I was far from having found in any of these little
subaltern agents, that generous intrepidity which, when I was in a
similar employment, had often caused a fermentation in my heart. I had
formerly known something of the Chevalier Beauteville, at the castle of
Montmorency; he had shown me marks of esteem; since his appointment to
the embassy he had given me proofs of his not having entirely forgotten
me, accompanied with an invitation to go and see him at Soleure. Though
I did not accept this invitation, I was extremely sensible of his
civility, not having been accustomed to be treated with such kindness by
people in place. I presume M. de Beauteville, obliged to follow his
instructions in what related to the affairs of Geneva, yet pitying me
under my misfortunes, had by his private cares prepared for me the asylum
of Bienne, that I might live there in peace under his auspices. I was
properly sensible of his attention, but without wishing to profit by it
and quite determined upon the journey to Berlin, I sighed after the
moment in which I was to see my lord marshal, persuaded I should in
future find zeal repose and lasting happiness nowhere but near his
person.

On my departure from the island, Kirkeberguer accompanied me to Bienne.
I found Wildremet and other Biennois, who, by the water side, waited my
getting out of the boat. We all dined together at the inn, and on my
arrival there my first care was to provide a chaise, being determined to
set off the next morning. Whilst we were at dinner these gentlemen
repeated their solicitations to prevail upon me to stay with them, and
this with such warmth and obliging protestations, that notwithstanding
all my resolutions, my heart, which has never been able to resist
friendly attentions, received an impression from theirs; the moment they
perceived I was shaken, they redoubled their efforts with so much effect
that I was at length overcome, and consented to remain at Bienne, at
least until the spring.

Wildremet immediately set about providing me with a lodging, and boasted,
as of a fortunate discovery, of a dirty little chamber in the back of the
house, on the third story, looking into a courtyard, where I had for a
view the display of the stinking skins of a dresser of chamois leather.
My host was a man of a mean appearance, and a good deal of a rascal; the
next day after I went to his house I heard that he was a debauchee, a
gamester, and in bad credit in the neighborhood. He had neither wife,
children, nor servants, and shut up in my solitary chamber, I was in the
midst of one of the most agreeable countries in Europe, lodged in a
manner to make me die of melancholy in the course of a few days. What
affected me most was, that, notwithstanding what I had heard of the
anxious wish of the inhabitants to receive me amongst them, I had not
perceived, as I passed through the streets, anything polite towards me in
their manners, or obliging in their looks. I was, however, determined to
remain there; but I learned, saw, and felt, the day after, that there was
in the city a terrible fermentation, of which I was the cause. Several
persons hastened obligingly to inform me that on the next day I was to
receive an order conceived in the most severe terms, immediately to quit
the state, that is the city. I had nobody in whom I could confide; they
who had detained me were dispersed. Wildremet had disappeared; I heard
no more of Barthes, and it did not appear that his recommendation had
brought me into great favor with those whom he had styled his patrons and
fathers. One M. de Van Travers, a Bernois, who had an agreeable house
not far from the city, offered it to me for my asylum, hoping, as he
said, that I might there avoid being stoned. The advantage this offer
held out was not sufficiently flattering to tempt me to prolong my abode
with these hospitable people.

Yet, having lost three days by the delay, I had greatly exceeded the
twenty-four hours the Bernois had given me to quit their states, and
knowing their severity, I was not without apprehensions as to the manner
in which they would suffer me to cross them, when the bailiff of Nidau
came opportunely and relieved me from my embarrassment. As he had highly
disapproved of the violent proceedings of their excellencies, he thought,
in his generosity, he owed me some public proof of his taking no part in
them, and had courage to leave his bailiwick to come and pay me a visit
at Bienne. He did me this favor the evening before my departure, and far
from being incognito he affected ceremony, coming in fiocchi in his coach
with his secretary, and brought me a passport in his own name that I
might cross the state of Berne at my ease, and without fear of
molestation. I was more flattered by the visit than by the passport,
and should have been as sensible of the merit of it, had it had for
object any other person whatsoever. Nothing makes a greater impression
on my heart than a well-timed act of courage in favor of the weak
unjustly oppressed.

At length, after having with difficulty procured a chaise, I next morning
left this barbarous country, before the arrival of the deputation with
which I was to be honored, and even before I had seen Theresa, to whom I
had written to come to me, when I thought I should remain at Bienne,
and whom I had scarcely time to countermand by a short letter, informing
her of my new disaster. In the third part of my memoirs, if ever I be
able to write them, I shall state in what manner, thinking to set off for
Berlin, I really took my departure for England, and the means by which
the two ladies who wished to dispose of my person, after having by their
manoeuvres driven me from Switzerland, where I was not sufficiently in
their power, at last delivered me into the hands of their friend.

I added what follows on reading my memoirs to M. and Madam, the Countess
of Egmont, the Prince Pignatelli, the Marchioness of Mesme, and the
Marquis of Juigne.

I have written the truth: if any person has heard of things contrary to
those I have just stated, were they a thousand times proved, he has heard
calumny and falsehood; and if he refuses thoroughly to examine and
compare them with me whilst I am alive, he is not a friend either to
justice or truth. For my part, I openly, and without the least fear
declare, that whoever, even without having read my works, shall have
examined with his own eyes, my disposition, character, manners,
inclinations, pleasures, and habits, and pronounce me a dishonest man,
is himself one who deserves a gibbet.

Thus I concluded, and every person was silent; Madam d'Egmont was the
only person who seemed affected; she visibly trembled, but soon recovered
herself, and was silent like the rest of the company. Such were the
fruits of my reading and declaration.





ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

A feeling heart the foundation of all my misfortunes
A religion preached by such missionaries must lead to paradise!
A subject not even fit to make a priest of
A man, on being questioned, is immediately on his guard
Adopted the jargon of books, than the knowledge they contained
All animals are distrustful of man, and with reason
All your evils proceed from yourselves!
An author must be independent of success
Ardor for learning became so far a madness
Aversion to singularity
Avoid putting our interests in competition with our duty
Being beat like a slave, I judged I had a right to all vices
Bilboquet
Catholic must content himself with the decisions of others
Caution is needless after the evil has happened
Cemented by reciprocal esteem
Considering this want of decency as an act of courage
Conversations were more serviceable than his prescriptions
Degree of sensuality had mingled with the smart and shame
Die without the aid of physicians
Difficult to think nobly when we think for a livelihood
Dine at the hour of supper; sup when I should have been asleep
Disgusted with the idle trifling of a convent
Dissembler, though, in fact, I was only courteous
Dying for love without an object
Endeavoring to hide my incapacity, I rarely fail to show it
Endeavoring to rise too high we are in danger of falling
Ever appearing to feel as little for others as herself
Finding in every disease symptoms similar to mine
First instance of violence and oppression is so deeply engraved
First time in my life, of saying, "I merit my own esteem"
Flattery, or rather condescension, is not always a vice
Force me to be happy in the manner they should point out
Foresight with me has always embittered enjoyment
Hastening on to death without having lived
Hat, only fit to be carried under his arm
Have the pleasure of seeing an ass ride on horseback
Have ever preferred suffering to owing
Her excessive admiration or dislike of everything
Hold fast to aught that I have, and yet covet nothing more
Hopes, in which self-love was by no means a loser
How many wrongs are effaced by the embraces of a friend!
I never much regretted sleep
I strove to flatter my idleness
I never heard her speak ill of persons who were absent
I loved her too well to wish to possess her
I felt no dread but that of being detected
I was long a child, and am so yet in many particulars
I am charged with the care of myself only
I only wished to avoid giving offence
I did not fear punishment, but I dreaded shame
I had a numerous acquaintance, yet no more than two friends
Idea of my not being everything to her
Idleness is as much the pest of society as of solitude
If you have nothing to do, you must absolutely speak continually
In the course of their lives frequently unlike themselves
In company I suffer cruelly by inaction
In a nation of blind men, those with one eye are kings
Indolence, negligence and delay in little duties to be fulfilled
Indolence of company is burdensome because it is forced
Injustice of mankind which embitters both life and death
Insignificant trash that has obtained the name of education
Instead of being delighted with the journey only wished arrival
Is it possible to dissimulate with persons whom we love?
Jean Bapiste Rousseau
Knew how to complain, but not how to act
Law that the accuser should be confined at the same time
Left to nature the whole care of my own instruction
Less degree of repugnance in divulging what is really criminal
Letters illustrious in proportion as it was less a trade
Loaded with words and redundancies
Looking on each day as the last of my life
Love of the marvellous is natural to the human heart
Make men like himself, instead of taking them as they were
Making their knowledge the measure of possibilities
Making me sensible of every deficiency
Manoeuvres of an author to the care of publishing a good book
Men, in general, make God like themselves
Men of learning more tenaciously retain their predjudices
Mistake wit for sense
Moment I acquired literary fame, I had no longer a friend
Money that we possess is the instrument of liberty
Money we lack and strive to obtain is the instrument of slavery
More stunned than flattered by the trumpet of fame
More folly than candor in the declaration without necessity
Multiplying persons and adventures
My greatest faults have been omissions
Myself the principal object
Necessity, the parent of industry, suggested an invention
Neither the victim nor witness of any violent emotions
No sooner had lost sight of men than I ceased to despise them
No longer permitted to let old people remain out of Paris
Not so easy to quit her house as to enter it
Not knowing how to spend their time, daily breaking in upon me
Nothing absurd appears to them incredible
Obliged to pay attention to every foolish thing uttered
Obtain their wishes, without permitting or promising anything
One of those affronts which women scarcely ever forgive
Only prayer consisted in the single interjection "Oh!"
Painful to an honest man to resist desires already formed
Passed my days in languishing in silence for those I most admire
Piety was too sincere to give way to any affectation of it
Placing unbounded confidence in myself and others
Prescriptions serve to flatter the hopes of the patient
Priests ought never to have children--except by married women
Proportioned rather to her ideas than abilities
Protestants, in general, are better instructed
Rather bashful than modest
Rather appeared to study with than to instruct me
Read the hearts of others by endeavoring to conceal our own
Read description of any malady without thinking it mine
Read without studying
Remorse wakes amid the storms of adversity
Remorse sleeps in the calm sunshine of prosperity
Reproach me with so many contradictions
Return of spring seemed to me like rising from the grave
Rogues know how to save themselves at the expense of the feeble
Satisfaction of weeping together
Seeking, by fresh offences, a return of the same chastisement
Sin consisted only in the scandal
Slighting her favors, if within your reach, a unpardonable crime
Sometimes encourage hopes they never mean to realize
Substituting cunning to knowledge
Supposed that certain, which I only knew to be probable
Taught me it was not so terrible to thieve as I had imagined
That which neither women nor authors ever pardon
The malediction of knaves is the glory of an honest man
The conscience of the guilty would revenge the innocent
There is nothing in this world but time and misfortune
There is no clapping of hands before the king
This continued desire to control me in all my wishes
Though not a fool, I have frequently passed for one
To make him my apologies for the offence he had given me
True happiness is indescribable, it is only to be felt
Trusting too implicitly to their own innocence
Tyranny of persons who called themselves my friends
Virtuous minds, which vice never attacks openly
Voltaire was formed never to be(happy)
We learned to dissemble, to rebel, to lie
What facility everything which favors the malignity of man
When once we make a secret of anything to the person we love
When everyone is busy, you may continue silent
Whence comes it that even a child can intimidate a man
Where merit consists in belief, and not in virtue
Whole universe would be interested in my concerns
Whose discourses began by a distribution of millions
Wish thus to be revenged of me for their humiliation
Without the least scruple, freely disposing of my time
Writing for bread would soon have extinguished my genius
Yielded him the victory, or rather declined the contest

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