The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau — Volume 03

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The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book III. by Jean Jacques RousseauThis eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it,give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online atwww.gutenberg.netTitle: The Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, Book III.Author: Jean Jacques RousseauRelease Date: December 6, 2004 [EBook #3903]Language: English*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROUSSEAU ***Produced by David WidgerTHE CONFESSIONS OF JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU(In 12 books)Privately Printed for the Members of the Aldus SocietyLondon, 1903BOOK III.Leaving the service of Madam de Vercellis nearly as I had entered it, I returned to my former hostess, and remainedthere five or six weeks; during which time health, youth, and laziness, frequently rendered my temperament importunate. Iwas restless, absent, and thoughtful: I wept and sighed for a happiness I had no idea of, though at the same time highlysensible of some deficiency. This situation is indescribable, few men can even form any conception of it, because, ingeneral, they have prevented that plenitude of life, at once tormenting and delicious. My thoughts were incessantlyoccupied with girls and women, but in a manner peculiar to myself: these ideas kept my senses in a perpetual anddisagreeable activity, though, fortunately, they did not point out the means of ...

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Privately Printed for the Members of the AldusSocietyLondon, 1903BOOK III.Leaving the service of Madam de Vercellis nearlyas I had entered it, I returned to my formerhostess, and remained there five or six weeks;during which time health, youth, and laziness,frequently rendered my temperament importunate.I was restless, absent, and thoughtful: I wept andsighed for a happiness I had no idea of, though atthe same time highly sensible of some deficiency.This situation is indescribable, few men can evenform any conception of it, because, in general, theyhave prevented that plenitude of life, at oncetormenting and delicious. My thoughts wereincessantly occupied with girls and women, but in amanner peculiar to myself: these ideas kept mysenses in a perpetual and disagreeable activity,though, fortunately, they did not point out themeans of deliverance. I would have given my life tohave met with a Miss Goton, but the time was pastin which the play of infancy predominated; increaseof years had introduced shame, the inseparablecompanion of a conscious deviation from rectitude,which so confirmed my natural timidity as to renderit invincible; and never, either at that time or since,could I prevail on myself to offer a proposition

favorable to my wishes (unless in a mannerconstrained to it by previous advances) even withthose whose scruples I had no cause to dread.My stay at Madam de Vercellis's had procured mesome acquaintance, which I thought might beserviceable to me, and therefore wished to retain.Among others, I sometimes visited a Savoyardabbe, M. Gaime, who was tutor to the Count ofMelarede's children. He was young, and not muchknown, but possessed an excellent cultivatedunderstanding, with great probity, and was,altogether, one of the best men I ever knew. Hewas incapable of doing me the service I then stoodmost in need of, not having sufficient interest toprocure me a situation, but from him I reapedadvantages far more precious, which have beenuseful to me through life, lessons of pure morality,and maxims of sound judgment.In the successive order of my inclinations andideas, I had ever been too high or too low. Achillesor Thersites; sometimes a hero, at others a villain.M. Gaime took pains to make me properlyacquainted with myself, without sparing or givingme too much discouragement. He spoke inadvantageous terms of my disposition and talents,adding, that he foresaw obstacles which wouldprevent my profiting by them; thus, according tohim, they were to serve less as steps by which Ishould mount to fortune, than as resources whichmight enable me to exist without one. He gave mea true picture of human life, of which, hitherto, Ihad formed but a very erroneous idea, teaching

me, that a man of understanding, though destinedto experience adverse fortune, might, by skilfulmanagement, arrive at happiness; that there wasno true felicity without virtue, which was practicablein every situation. He greatly diminished myadmiration of grandeur, by proving that those in asuperior situation are neither better nor happierthan those they command. One of his maxims hasfrequently returned to my memory: it was, that ifwe could truly read the hearts of others we shouldfeel more inclination to descend than rise: thisreflection, the truth of which is striking withoutextravagance, I have found of great utility, in thevarious exigences of my life, as it tended to makeme satisfied with my condition. He gave me thefirst just conception of relative duties, which myhigh-flown imagination had ever pictured inextremes, making me sensible that the enthusiasmof sublime virtues is of little use in society; thatwhile endeavoring to rise too high we are in dangerof falling; and that a virtuous and uniform dischargeof little duties requires as great a degree offortitude as actions which are called heroic, andwould at the same time procure more honor andhappiness. That it was infinitely more desirable topossess the lasting esteem of those about us, thanat intervals to attract admiration.In properly arranging the various duties betweenman and man, it was necessary to ascend toprinciples; the step I had recently taken, and ofwhich my present situation was the consequence,naturally led us to speak of religion. It will easily beconceived that the honest M. Gaime was, in a

great measure, the original of the Savoyard Vicar;prudence only obliging him to deliver hissentiments, on certain points, with more cautionand reserve, and explain himself with less freedom;but his sentiments and councils were the same, noteven excepting his advice to return to my country;all was precisely as I have since given it to thepubic. Dwelling no longer, therefore, onconversations which everyone may see thesubstance of, I shall only add, that these wiseinstructions (though they did not produce animmediate effect) were as so many seeds of virtueand religion in my heart which were never rootedout, and only required the fostering cares offriendship to bring to maturity.Though my conversation was not very sincere, Iwas affected by his discourses, and far from beingweary, was pleased with them on account of theirclearness and simplicity, but above all because hisheart seemed interested in what he said. Mydisposition is naturally tender, I have ever beenless attached to people for the good they havereally done me than for that they designed to do,and my feelings in this particular have seldommisled me: thus I truly esteemed M. Gaime. I wasin a manner his second disciple, which even at thattime was of inestimable service in turning me froma propensity to vice into which my idleness wasleading me.One day, when I least expected it, I was sent forby the Count de la Roque. Having frequently calledat his house, without being able to speak with him,

I grew weary, and supposing he had either forgotme or retained some unfavorable impression ofme, returned no more: but I was mistaken in boththese conjectures. He had more than oncewitnessed the pleasure I took in fulfilling my duty tohis aunt: he had even mentioned it to her, andafterwards spoke of it, when I no longer thought ofit myself.He received me graciously, saying that instead ofamusing me with useless promises, he had soughtto place me to advantage; that he had succeeded,and would put me in a way to better my situation,but the rest must depend on myself. That thefamily into which he should introduce me beingboth powerful and esteemed, I should need noother patrons; and though at first on the footing ofa servant, I might be assured, that if my conductand sentiments were found above that station, Ishould not long remain in it. The end of thisdiscourse cruelly disappointed the brilliant hopesthe beginning had inspired. "What! forever afootman?" said I to myself, with a bitterness whichconfidence presently effaced, for I felt myself toosuperior to that situation to fear long remainingthere.He took me to the Count de Gauvon, Master of theHorse to the Queen, and Chief of the illustriousHouse of Solar. The air of dignity conspicuous inthis respectable old man, rendered the affabilitywith which he received me yet more interesting. Hequestioned me with evident interest, and I repliedwith sincerity. He then told the Count de la Roque,

that my features were agreeable, and promisedintellect, which he believed I was not deficient in;but that was not enough, and time must show therest; after which, turning to me, he said, "Child,almost all situations are attended with difficulties inthe beginning; yours, however, shall not have toogreat a portion of them; be prudent, and endeavorto please everyone, that will be almost your onlyemployment; for the rest fear nothing, you shall betaken care of." Immediately after he went to theMarchioness de Breil, his daughter-in-law, to whomhe presented me, and then to the Abbe deGauvon, his son. I was elated with this beginning,as I knew enough of the world already to conclude,that so much ceremony is not generally used at thereception of a footman. In fact, I was not treatedlike one. I dined at the steward's table; did notwear a livery; and the Count de Favria (a giddyyouth) having commanded me to get behind hiscoach, his grandfather ordered that I should getbehind no coach, nor follow any one out of thehouse. Meantime, I waited at table, and did, withindoors, the business of a footman; but I did it, as itwere, of my own free will, without being appointedto any particular service; and except writing someletters, which were dictated to me, and cutting outsome ornaments for the Count de Favria, I wasalmost the absolute master of my time. This trial ofmy discretion, which I did not then perceive, wascertainly very dangerous, and not very humane; forin this state of idleness I might have contractedvices which I should not otherwise have given into.Fortunately, it did not produce that effect; mymemory retained the lessons of M. Gaime, they

had made an impression on my heart, and Isometimes escaped from the house of my patronto obtain a repetition of them. I believe those whosaw me going out, apparently by stealth, had noconception of my business. Nothing could be moreprudent than the advice he gave me respecting myconduct. My beginning was admirable; so muchattention, assiduity, and zeal, had charmedeveryone. The Abby Gaime advised me tomoderate this first ardor, lest I should relax, andthat relaxation should be considered as neglect."Your setting out," said he, "is the rule of what willbe expected of you; endeavor gradually to increaseyour attentions, but be cautious how you diminishthem."As they paid but little attention to my trifling talents,and supposed I possessed no more than naturehad given me, there was no appearance(notwithstanding the promises of Count deGauvon) of my meeting with any particularconsideration. Some objects of more consequencehad intervened. The Marquis de Breil, son of theCount de Gauvon, was then ambassador atVienna; some circumstances had occurred at thatcourt which for some weeks kept the family incontinual agitation, and left them no time to think ofme. Meantime I had relaxed but little in myattentions, though one object in the family did meboth good and harm, making me more secure fromexterior dissipation, but less attentive to my duty.Mademoiselle de Breil was about my own age,tolerably handsome, and very fair complexioned,

with black hair, which notwithstanding, gave herfeatures that air of softness so natural to theflaxen, and which my heart could never resist. Thecourt dress, so favorable to youth, showed her fineneck and shape to advantage, and the mourning,which was then worn, seemed to add to herbeauty. It will be said, a domestic should not takenotice of these things; I was certainly to blame, yetI perceived all this, nor was I the only one; themaitre d' hotel and valet de chambre spoke of hersometimes at table with a vulgarity that pained meextremely. My head, however, was not sufficientlyturned to allow of my being entirely in love; I didnot forget myself, or my situation. I loved to seeMademoiselle de Breil; to hear her utter anythingthat marked wit, sense, or good humor: myambition, confined to a desire of waiting on her,never exceeded its just rights. At table I was everattentive to make the most of them; if her footmanquitted her chair, I instantly supplied his place; indefault of this, I stood facing her, seeking in hereyes what she was about to ask for, and watchingthe moment to change her plate. What would I nothave given to hear her command, to have her lookat, or speak the smallest word to me! but no, I hadthe mortification to be beneath her regard; she didnot even perceive I was there. Her brother, whofrequently spoke to me while at table, having oneday said something which I did not considerobliging, I made him so arch and well-turned ananswer, that it drew her attention; she cast hereyes upon me, and this glance was sufficient to fillme with transport. The next day, a secondoccasion presented itself, which I fortunately made

use of. A great dinner was given; and I saw, withastonishment, for the first time, the maitre d' hotelwaiting at table, with a sword by his side, and haton his head. By chance, the discourse turned onthe motto of the house of Solar, which was, withthe arms, worked in the tapestry: 'Tel fiert qui nefue pas'. As the Piedmontese are not in generalvery perfect in the French language, they foundfault with the orthography, saying, that in the wordfiert there should be no 't'. The old Count deGauvon was going to reply, when happening tocast his eyes on me, he perceived I smiled withoutdaring to say anything; he immediately ordered meto speak my opinion. I then said, I did not think the't' superfluous, 'fiert' being an old French word, notderived from the noun 'ferus', proud, threatening;but from the verb 'ferit', he strikes, he wounds; themotto, therefore, did not appear to mean, somethreat, but, 'Some strike who do not kill'. The wholecompany fixed their eyes on me, then on eachother, without speaking a word; never was agreater degree of astonishment; but what mostflattered me, was an air of satisfaction which Iperceived on the countenance of Mademoiselle deBreil. This scornful lady deigned to cast on me asecond look at least as valuable as the former, andturning to her grandfather, appeared to wait withimpatience for the praise that was due to me, andwhich he fully bestowed, with such apparentsatisfaction, that it was eagerly chorused by thewhole table. This interval was short, but delightfulin many respects; it was one of those moments sorarely met with, which place things in their naturalorder, and revenge depressed merit for the injuries

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