THE CONFESSIONS OF JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU(In 12 books)

Privately Printed for the Members of the Aldus Society

London, 1903

BOOK II. 

The moment in which fear had instigated my flight, did not seem moreterrible than that wherein I put my design in execution appeareddelightful. To leave my relations, my resources, while yet a child, in the midst of my apprenticeship, before I had learned enough of mybusiness to obtain a subsistence; to run on inevitable misery and danger:to expose myself in that age of weakness and innocence to all thetemptations of vice and despair; to set out in search of errors, misfortunes, snares, slavery, and death; to endure more intolerable evilsthan those I meant to shun, was the picture I should have drawn, thenatural consequence of my hazardous enterprise. How different was theidea I entertained of it!--The independence I seemed to possess was thesole object of my contemplation; having obtained my liberty, I thoughteverything attainable: I entered with confidence on the vast theatre ofthe world, which my merit was to captivate: at every step I expected tofind amusements, treasures, and adventures; friends ready to serve, andmistresses eager to please me; I had but to show myself, and the wholeuniverse would be interested in my concerns; not but I could have beencontent with something less; a charming society, with sufficient means, might have satisfied me. My moderation was such, that the sphere inwhich I proposed to shine was rather circumscribed, but then it was topossess the very quintessence of enjoyment, and myself the principalobject. A single castle, for instance, might have bounded my ambition;could I have been the favorite of the lord and lady, the daughter'slover, the son's friend, and protector of the neighbors, I might havebeen tolerably content, and sought no further. 

In expectation of this modest fortune, I passed a few days in theenvirons of the city, with some country people of my acquaintance, whoreceived me with more kindness than I should have met with in town; theywelcomed, lodged, and fed me cheerfully; I could be said to live oncharity, these favors were not conferred with a sufficient appearance ofsuperiority to furnish out the idea. 

I rambled about in this manner till I got to Confignon, in Savoy, atabout two leagues distance from Geneva. The vicar was called M. DePontverre; this name, so famous in the history of the Republic, caught myattention; I was curious to see what appearance the descendants of thegentlemen of the spoon exhibited; I went, therefore, to visit this M. DePontverre, and was received with great civility. 

He spoke of the heresy of Geneva, declaimed on the authority of holymother church, and then invited me to dinner. I had little to object toarguments which had so desirable a conclusion, and was inclined tobelieve that priests, who gave such excellent dinners, might be as goodas our ministers. Notwithstanding M. De Pontverre's pedigree, Icertainly possessed most learning; but I rather sought to be a goodcompanion than an expert theologian; and his Frangi wine, which I thoughtdelicious, argued so powerfully on his side, that I should have blushedat silencing so kind a host; I, therefore, yielded him the victory, orrather declined the contest. Any one who had observed my precaution, would certainly have pronounced me a dissembler, though, in fact, I wasonly courteous. 

Flattery, or rather condescension, is not always a vice in young people;'tis oftener a virtue. When treated with kindness, it is natural to feelan attachment for the person who confers the obligation; we do notacquiesce because we wish to deceive, but from dread of givinguneasiness, or because we wish to avoid the ingratitude of rendering evilfor good. What interest had M. De Pontverre in entertaining, treatingwith respect, and endeavoring to convince me? None but mine; my youngheart told me this, and I was penetrated with gratitude and respect forthe generous priest; I was sensible of my superiority, but scorned torepay his hospitality by taking advantage of it. I had no conception ofhypocrisy in this forbearance, or thought of changing my religion, nay, so far was the idea from being familiar to me, that I looked on it with adegree of horror which seemed to exclude the possibility of such anevent; I only wished to avoid giving offence to those I was sensiblecaressed me from that motive; I wished to cultivate their good opinion, and meantime leave them the hope of success by seeming less on my guardthan I really was. My conduct in this particular resembled the coquetryof some very honest women, who, to obtain their wishes, withoutpermitting or promising anything, sometimes encourage hopes they nevermean to realize. 

Reason, piety, and love of order, certainly demanded that instead ofbeing encouraged in my folly, I should have been dissuaded from the ruinI was courting, and sent back to my family; and this conduct any one thatwas actuated by genuine virtue would have pursued; but it should beobserved that though M. De Pontverre was a religious man, he was not avirtuous one, but a bigot, who knew no virtue except worshipping imagesand telling his beads, in a word, a kind of missionary, who thought theheight of merit consisted in writing libels against the ministers ofGeneva. Far from wishing to send me back, he endeavored to favor myescape, and put it out of my power to return even had I been so disposed. It was a thousand to one but he was sending me to perish with hunger, orbecome a villain; but all this was foreign to his purpose; he saw a soulsnatched from heresy, and restored to the bosom of the church: whether Iwas an honest man or a knave was very immaterial, provided I went tomass. 

This ridiculous mode of thinking is not peculiar to Catholics; it is thevoice of every dogmatical persuasion where merit consists in belief, andnot in virtue. 

"You are called by the Almighty, " said M. De Pontverre; "go to Annecy, where you will find a good and charitable lady, whom the bounty of theking enables to turn souls from those errors she has happily renounced. "He spoke of a Madam de Warrens, a new convert, to whom the priestscontrived to send those wretches who were disposed to sell their faith, and with these she was in a manner constrained to share a pension of twothousand francs bestowed on her by the King of Sardinia. I felt myselfextremely humiliated at being supposed to want the assistance of a goodand charitable lady. I had no objection to be accommodated witheverything I stood in need of, but did not wish to receive it on thefooting of charity and to owe this obligation to a devotee was stillworse; notwithstanding my scruples the persuasions of M. De Pontverre, the dread of perishing with hunger, the pleasures I promised myself fromthe journey, and hope of obtaining some desirable situation, determinedme; and I set out though reluctantly, for Annecy. I could easily havereached it in a day, but being in no great haste to arrive there, it tookme three. My head was filled with the ideas of adventures, and Iapproached every country-seat I saw in my way, in expectation of havingthem realized. I had too much timidity to knock at the doors, or evenenter if I saw them open, but I did what I dared--which was to sing underthose windows that I thought had the most favorable appearance; and wasvery much disconcerted to find I wasted my breath to no purpose, and thatneither old nor young ladies were attracted by the melody of my voice, orthe wit of my poetry, though some songs my companions had taught me Ithought excellent and that I sung them incomparably. At length I arrivedat Annecy, and saw Madam de Warrens. 

As this period of my life, in a great measure, determined my character, I could not resolve to pass it lightly over. I was in the middle of mysixteenth year, and though I could not be called handsome, was well madefor my height; I had a good foot, a well turned leg, and animatedcountenance; a well proportioned mouth, black hair and eyebrows, and myeyes, though small and rather too far in my head, sparkling withvivacity, darted that innate fire which inflamed my blood; unfortunatelyfor me, I knew nothing of all this, never having bestowed a singlethought on my person till it was too late to be of any service to me. The timidity common to my age was heightened by a natural benevolence, which made me dread the idea of giving pain. Though my mind had receivedsome cultivation, having seen nothing of the world, I was an absolutestranger to polite address, and my mental acquisitions, so far fromsupplying this defect, only served to increase my embarrassment, bymaking me sensible of every deficiency. 

Depending little, therefore, on external appearances, I had recourse toother expedients: I wrote a most elaborate letter, where, mingling allthe flowers of rhetoric which I had borrowed from books with the phrasesof an apprentice, I endeavored to strike the attention, and insure thegood will of Madam de Warrens. I enclosed M. De Pontverre's letter in myown and waited on the lady with a heart palpitating with fear andexpectation. It was Palm Sunday, of the year 1728; I was informed shewas that moment gone to church; I hasten after her, overtake, and speakto her. --The place is yet fresh in my memory--how can it be otherwise?often have I moistened it with my tears and covered it with kisses. --Whycannot I enclose with gold the happy spot, and render it the object ofuniversal veneration? Whoever wishes to honor monuments of humansalvation would only approach it on their knees. 

It was a passage at the back of the house, bordered on the left hand by alittle rivulet, which separated it from the garden, and, on the right, bythe court yard wall; at the end was a private door which opened into thechurch of the Cordeliers. Madam de Warrens was just passing this door;but on hearing my voice, instantly turned about. What an effect did thesight of her produce! I expected to see a devout, forbidding old woman;M. De Pontverre's pious and worthy lady could be no other in myconception; instead of which, I see a face beaming with charms, fine blueeyes full of sweetness, a complexion whose whiteness dazzled the sight, the form of an enchanting neck, nothing escaped the eager eye of theyoung proselyte; for that instant I was hers!--a religion preached bysuch missionaries must lead to paradise!

My letter was presented with a trembling hand; she took it with a smile--opened it, glanced an eye over M. De Pontverre's and again returned tomine, which she read through and would have read again, had not thefootman that instant informed her that service was beginning--"Child, "said she, in a tone of voice which made every nerve vibrate, "you arewandering about at an early age--it is really a pity!"--and withoutwaiting for an answer, added--"Go to my house, bid them give yousomething for breakfast, after mass, I will speak to you. "

Louisa--Eleanora de Warrens was of the noble and ancient family of LaTour de Pit, of Vevay, a city in the country of the Vaudois. She wasmarried very young to a M. De Warrens, of the house of Loys, eldest sonof M. De Villardin, of Lausanne; there were no children by this marriage, which was far from being a happy one. Some domestic uneasiness madeMadam de Warrens take the resolution of crossing the Lake, and throwingherself at the feet of Victor Amadeus, who was then at Evian; thusabandoning her husband, family, and country by a giddiness similar tomine, which precipitation she, too, has found sufficient time and reasonto lament. 

The king, who was fond of appearing a zealous promoter of the Catholicfaith, took her under his protection, and complimented her with a pensionof fifteen hundred livres of Piedmont, which was a considerableappointment for a prince who never had the character of being generous;but finding his liberality made some conjecture he had an affection forthe lady, he sent her to Annecy escorted by a detachment of his guards, where, under the direction of Michael Gabriel de Bernex, titular bishopof Geneva, she abjured her former religion at the Convent of theVisitation. 

I came to Annecy just six years after this event; Madam de Warrens wasthen eight--and--twenty, being born with the century. Her beauty, consisting more in the expressive animation of the countenance, than aset of features, was in its meridian; her manner soothing and tender; anangelic smile played about her mouth, which was small and delicate; shewore her hair (which was of an ash color, and uncommonly beautiful) withan air of negligence that made her appear still more interesting; she wasshort, and rather thick for her height, though by no means disagreeablyso; but there could not be a more lovely face, a finer neck, or hands andarms more exquisitely formed. 

Her education had been derived from such a variety of sources, that itformed an extraordinary assemblage. Like me, she had lost her mother ather birth, and had received instruction as it chanced to present itself;she had learned something of her governess, something of her father, alittle of her masters, but copiously from her lovers; particularly a M. De Tavel, who, possessing both taste and information, endeavored to adornwith them the mind of her he loved. These various instructions, notbeing properly arranged, tended to impede each other, and she did notacquire that degree of improvement her natural good sense was capable ofreceiving; she knew something of philosophy and physic, but not enough toeradicate the fondness she had imbibed from her father for empiricism andalchemy; she made elixirs, tinctures, balsams, pretended to secrets, andprepared magestry; while quacks and pretenders, profiting by herweakness, destroyed her property among furnaces, drugs and minerals, diminishing those charms and accomplishments which might have been thedelight of the most elegant circles. But though these interestedwretches took advantage of her ill-applied education to obscure hernatural good sense, her excellent heart retained its purity; her amiablemildness, sensibility for the unfortunate, inexhaustible bounty, andopen, cheerful frankness, knew no variation; even at the approach of oldage, when attacked by various calamities, rendered more cutting byindigence, the serenity of her disposition preserved to the end of herlife the pleasing gayety of her happiest days. 

Her errors proceeded from an inexhaustible fund of activity, whichdemanded perpetual employment. She found no satisfaction in thecustomary intrigues of her sex, but, being formed for vast designs, sought the direction of important enterprises and discoveries. In herplace Madam de Longueville would have been a mere trifler, in Madam deLongueville's situation she would have governed the state. Her talentsdid not accord with her fortune; what would have gained her distinctionin a more elevated sphere, became her ruin. In enterprises which suitedher disposition, she arranged the plan in her imagination, which was evercarried of its utmost extent, and the means she employed beingproportioned rather to her ideas than abilities, she failed by themismanagement of those upon whom she depended, and was ruined whereanother would scarce have been a loser. This active disposition, whichinvolved her in so many difficulties, was at least productive of onebenefit as it prevented her from passing the remainder of her life in themonastic asylum she had chosen, which she had some thought of. Thesimple and uniform life of a nun, and the little cabals and gossipings oftheir parlor, were not adapted to a mind vigorous and active, which, every day forming new systems, had occasions for liberty to attempt theircompletion. 

The good bishop of Bernex, with less wit than Francis of Sales, resembledhim in many particulars, and Madam de Warrens, whom he loved to call hisdaughter, and who was like Madam de Chantel in several respects, mighthave increased the resemblance by retiring like her from the world, hadshe not been disgusted with the idle trifling of a convent. It was notwant of zeal prevented this amiable woman from giving those proofs ofdevotion which might have been expected from a new convert, under theimmediate direction of a prelate. Whatever might have influenced her tochange her religion, she was certainly sincere in that she had embraced;she might find sufficient occasion to repent having abjured her formerfaith, but no inclination to return to it. She not only died a goodCatholic, but truly lived one; nay, I dare affirm (and I think I have hadthe opportunity to read the secrets of her heart) that it was only heraversion to singularity that prevented her acting the devotee in public;in a word, her piety was too sincere to give way to any affectation ofit. But this is not the place to enlarge on her principles: I shall findother occasions to speak of them. 

Let those who deny the existence of a sympathy of souls, explain, if theyknow how, why the first glance, the first word of Madam de Warrensinspired me, not only with a lively attachment, but with the mostunbounded confidence, which has since known no abatement. Say this waslove (which will at least appear doubtful to those who read the sequel ofour attachment) how could this passion be attended with sentiments whichscarce ever accompany its commencement, such as peace, serenity, security, and confidence. How, when making application to an amiable andpolished woman, whose situation in life was so superior to mine, so farabove any I had yet approached, on whom, in a great measure, depended myfuture fortune by the degree of interest she might take in it; how, I saywith so many reasons to depress me, did I feel myself as free, as much atmy ease, as if I had been perfectly secure of pleasing her! Why did Inot experience a moment of embarrassment, timidity or restraint?Naturally bashful, easily confused, having seen nothing of the world, could I, the first time, the first moment I beheld her, adopt caressinglanguage, and a familiar tone, as readily as after ten years' intimacyhad rendered these freedoms natural? Is it possible to possess love, Iwill not say without desires, for I certainly had them, but withoutinquietude, without jealousy? Can we avoid feeling an anxious wish atleast to know whether our affection is returned? Yet such a questionnever entered my imagination; I should as soon have inquired, do I lovemyself; nor did she ever express a greater degree of curiosity; therewas, certainly, something extraordinary in my attachment to this charmingwoman and it will be found in the sequel, that some extravagances, whichcannot be foreseen, attended it. 

What could be done for me, was the present question, and in order todiscuss the point with greater freedom, she made me dine with her. Thiswas the first meal in my life where I had experienced a want of appetite, and her woman, who waited, observed it was the first time she had seen atraveller of my age and appearance deficient in that particular: thisremark, which did me no injury in the opinion of her mistress, fell hardon an overgrown clown, who was my fellow guest, and devoured sufficientto have served at least six moderate feeders. For me, I was too muchcharmed to think of eating; my heart began to imbibe a delicioussensation, which engrossed my whole being, and left no room for otherobjects. 

Madam de Warrens wished to hear the particulars of my little history--allthe vivacity I had lost during my servitude returned and assisted therecital. In proportion to the interest this excellent woman took in mystory, did she lament the fate to which I had exposed myself; compassionwas painted on her features, and expressed by every action. She couldnot exhort me to return to Geneva, being too well aware that her wordsand actions were strictly scrutinized, and that such advice would bethought high treason against Catholicism, but she spoke so feelingly ofthe affliction I must give her(my) father, that it was easy to perceiveshe would have approved my returning to console him. Alas! she littlethought how powerfully this pleaded against herself; the more eloquentlypersuasive she appeared, the less could I resolve to tear myself fromher. I knew that returning to Geneva would be putting an insuperablebarrier between us, unless I repeated the expedient which had brought mehere, and it was certainly better to preserve than expose myself to thedanger of a relapse; besides all this, my conduct was predetermined, Iwas resolved not to return. Madam de Warrens, seeing her endeavors wouldbe fruitless, became less explicit, and only added, with an air ofcommiseration, "Poor child! thou must go where Providence directs thee, but one day thou wilt think of me. "--I believe she had no conception atthat time how fatally her prediction would be verified. 

The difficulty still remained how I was to gain a subsistence? I havealready observed that I knew too little of engraving for that to furnishmy resource, and had I been more expert, Savoy was too poor a country togive much encouragement to the arts. The above-mentioned glutton, whoeat for us as well as himself, being obliged to pause in order to gainsome relaxation from the fatigue of it, imparted a piece of advice, which, according to him, came express from Heaven; though to judge by itseffects it appeared to have been dictated from a direct contrary quarter:this was that I should go to Turin, where, in a hospital instituted forthe instruction of catechumens, I should find food, both spiritual andtemporal, be reconciled to the bosom of the church, and meet with somecharitable Christians, who would make it a point to procure me asituation that would turn to my advantage. "In regard to the expenses ofthe journey, " continued our advisor, "his grace, my lord bishop, will notbe backward, when once madam has proposed this holy work, to offer hischaritable donation, and madam, the baroness, whose charity is so wellknown, " once more addressing himself to the continuation of his meal, "will certainly contribute. "

I was by no means pleased with all these charities; I said nothing, butmy heart was ready to burst with vexation. Madam de Warrens, who did notseem to think so highly of this expedient as the projector pretended todo, contented herself by saying, everyone should endeavor to promote goodactions, and that she would mention it to his lordship; but the meddlingdevil, who had some private interest in this affair, and questionedwhether she would urge it to his satisfaction, took care to acquaint thealmoners with my story, and so far influenced those good priests, thatwhen Madam de Warrens, who disliked the journey on my account, mentionedit to the bishop, she found it so far concluded on, that he immediatelyput into her hands the money designed for my little viaticum. She darednot advance anything against it; I was approaching an age when a womanlike her could not, with any propriety, appear anxious to retain me. 

My departure being thus determined by those who undertook the managementof my concerns, I had only to submit; and I did it without muchrepugnance. Though Turin was at a greater distance from Madam de Warrensthan Geneva, yet being the capital of the country I was now in, it seemedto have more connection with Annecy than a city under a differentgovernment and of a contrary religion; besides, as I undertook thisjourney in obedience to her, I considered myself as living under herdirection, which was more flattering than barely to continue in theneighborhood; to sum up all, the idea of a long journey coincided with myinsurmountable passion for rambling, which already began to demonstrateitself. To pass the mountains, to my eye appeared delightful; howcharming the reflection of elevating myself above my companions by thewhole height of the Alps! To see the world is an almost irresistibletemptation to a Genevan, accordingly I gave my consent. 

He who suggested the journey was to set off in two days with his wife. I was recommended to their care; they were likewise made my purse--bearers, which had been augmented by Madam de Warrens, who, not contentedwith these kindnesses, added secretly a pecuniary reinforcement, attendedwith the most ample instructions, and we departed on the Wednesday beforeEaster. 

The day following, my father arrived at Annecy, accompanied by hisfriend, a Mr. Rival, who was likewise a watchmaker; he was a man of senseand letters, who wrote better verses than La Motte, and spoke almost aswell; what is still more to his praise, he was a man of the strictestintegrity, but whose taste for literature only served to make one of hissons a comedian. Having traced me to the house of Madam de Warrens, theycontented themselves with lamenting, like her, my fate, instead ofovertaking me, which, (as they were on horseback and I on foot) theymight have accomplished with the greatest ease. 

My uncle Bernard did the same thing, he arrived at Consignon, receivedinformation that I was gone to Annecy, and immediately returned back toGeneva; thus my nearest relations seemed to have conspired with myadverse stars to consign me to misery and ruin. By a similar negligence, my brother was so entirely lost, that it was never known what was becomeof him. 

My father was not only a man of honor but of the strictest probity, andendured with that magnanimity which frequently produces the most shiningvirtues: I may add, he was a good father, particularly to me whom hetenderly loved; but he likewise loved his pleasures, and since we hadbeen separated other connections had weakened his paternal affections. He had married again at Nion, and though his second wife was too old toexpect children, she had relations; my father was united to anotherfamily, surrounded by other objects, and a variety of cares prevented myreturning to his remembrance. He was in the decline of life and hadnothing to support the inconveniences of old age; my mother's propertydevolved to me and my brother, but, during our absence, the interest ofit was enjoyed by my father: I do not mean to infer that thisconsideration had an immediate effect on his conduct, but it had animperceptible one, and prevented him making use of that exertion toregain me which he would otherwise have employed; and this, I think, wasthe reason that having traced me as far as Annecy, he stopped short, without proceeding to Chambery, where he was almost certain I should befound; and likewise accounts why, on visiting him several times since myflight, he always received me with great kindness, but never made anyefforts to retain me. 

This conduct in a father, whose affection and virtue I was so wellconvinced of, has given birth to reflections on the regulation of my ownconduct which have greatly contributed to preserve the integrity of myheart. It has taught me this great lesson of morality, perhaps the onlyone that can have any conspicuous influence on our actions, that weshould ever carefully avoid putting our interests in competition with ourduty, or promise ourselves felicity from the misfortunes of others;certain that in such circumstances, however sincere our love of virtuemay be, sooner or later it will give way and we shall imperceptiblybecome unjust and wicked, in fact, however upright in our intentions. 

This maxim, strongly imprinted on my mind, and reduced, though rather toolate, to practice, has given my conduct an appearance of folly andwhimsicality, not only in public, but still more among my acquaintances:it has been said, I affected originality, and sought to act differentfrom other people; the truth is, I neither endeavor to conform or besingular, I desire only to act virtuously and avoid situations, which, by setting my interest in opposition to that of another person's, mightinspire me with a secret, though involuntary wish to his disadvantage. 

Two years ago, My Lord Marshal would have put my name in his will, whichI took every method to prevent, assuring him I would not for the worldknow myself in the will of any one, much less in his; he gave up theidea; but insisted in return, that I should accept an annuity on hislife; this I consented to. It will be said, I find my account in thealteration; perhaps I may; but oh, my benefactor! my father, I am nowsensible that, should I have the misfortune to survive thee, I shouldhave everything to lose, nothing to gain. 

This, in my idea, in true philosophy, the surest bulwark of humanrectitude; every day do I receive fresh conviction of its profoundsolidity. I have endeavored to recommend it in all my latter writings, but the multitude read too superficially to have made the remark. If Isurvive my present undertaking, and am able to begin another, I mean, ina continuation of Emilius, to give such a lively and marking example ofthis maxim as cannot fail to strike attention. But I have madereflections enough for a traveller, it is time to continue my journey. 

It turned out more agreeable than I expected: my clownish conductor wasnot so morose as he appeared to be. He was a middle-aged man, wore hisblack, grizzly hair, in a queue, had a martial air, a strong voice, wastolerably cheerful, and to make up for not having been taught any trade, could turn his hand to every one. Having proposed to establish some kindof manufactory at Annecy, he had consulted Madam de Warrens, whoimmediately gave into the project, and he was now going to Turin to laythe plan before the minister and get his approbation, for which journeyhe took care to be well rewarded. 

This drole had the art of ingratiating himself with the priests, whom heever appeared eager to serve; he adopted a certain jargon which he hadlearned by frequenting their company, and thought himself a notablepreacher; he could even repeat one passage from the Bible in Latin, andit answered his purpose as well as if he had known a thousand, for herepeated it a thousand times a day. He was seldom at a loss for moneywhen he knew what purse contained it; yet, was rather artful thanknavish, and when dealing out in an affected tone his unmeaningdiscourses, resembled Peter the Hermit, preaching up the crusade with asabre at his side. 

Madam Sabran, his wife, was a tolerable, good sort of woman; morepeaceable by day than by night; as I slept in the same chamber I wasfrequently disturbed by her wakefulness, and should have been more so hadI comprehended the cause of it; but I was in the chapter of dullness, which left to nature the whole care of my own instruction. 

I went on gayly with my pious guide and his hopeful companion, nosinister accident impeding our journey. I was in the happiestcircumstances both of mind and body that I ever recollect havingexperienced; young, full of health and security, placing unboundedconfidence in myself and others; in that short but charming moment ofhuman life, whose expansive energy carries, if I may so express myself, our being to the utmost extent of our sensations, embellishing all naturewith an inexpressible charm, flowing from the conscious and risingenjoyment of our existence. 

My pleasing inquietudes became less wandering: I had now an object onwhich imagination could fix. I looked on myself as the work, the pupil, the friend, almost the lover of Madam de Warrens; the obliging things shehad said, the caresses she had bestowed on me; the tender interest sheseemed to take in everything that concerned me; those charming looks, which seemed replete with love, because they so powerfully inspired it, every consideration flattered my ideas during this journey, and furnishedthe most delicious reveries, which, no doubt, no fear of my futurecondition arose to embitter. In sending me to Turin, I thought theyengaged to find me an agreeable subsistence there; thus eased of everycare I passed lightly on, while young desires, enchanting hopes, andbrilliant prospects employed my mind; each object that presented itselfseemed to insure my approaching felicity. I imagined that every housewas filled with joyous festivity, the meadows resounded with sports andrevelry, the rivers offered refreshing baths, delicious fish wantoned inthese streams, and how delightful was it to ramble along the flowerybanks! The trees were loaded with the choicest fruits, while their shadeafforded the most charming and voluptuous retreats to happy lovers; themountains abounded with milk and cream; peace and leisure, simplicity andjoy, mingled with the charm of going I knew not whither, and everything Isaw carried to my heart some new cause for rapture. The grandeur, variety, and real beauty of the scene, in some measure rendered the charmreasonable, in which vanity came in for its share; to go so young toItaly, view such an extent of country, and pursue the route of Hannibalover the Alps, appeared a glory beyond my age; add to all this ourfrequent and agreeable halts, with a good appetite and plenty to satisfyit; for in truth it was not worth while to be sparing; at Mr. Sabran'stable what I eat could scarce be missed. In the whole course of my lifeI cannot recollect an interval more perfectly exempt from care, than theseven or eight days I was passing from Annecy to Turin. As we wereobliged to walk Madam Sabran's pace, it rather appeared an agreeablejaunt than a fatiguing journey; there still remains the most pleasingimpressions of it on my mind, and the idea of a pedestrian excursion, particularly among the mountains, has from this time seemed delightful. 

It was only in my happiest days that I travelled on foot, and ever withthe most unbounded satisfaction; afterwards, occupied with business andencumbered with baggage, I was forced to act the gentleman and employ acarriage, where care, embarrassment, and restraint, were sure to be mycompanions, and instead of being delighted with the journey, I onlywished to arrive at the place of destination. 

I was a long time at Paris, wishing to meet with two companions ofsimilar dispositions, who would each agree to appropriate fifty guineasof his property and a year of his time to making the tour of Italy onfoot, with no other attendance than a young fellow to carry ournecessaries; I have met with many who seemed enchanted with the project, but considered it only as a visionary scheme, which served well enough totalk of, without any design of putting it in execution. One day, speaking with enthusiasm of this project to Diderot and Grimm, they gaveinto the proposal with such warmth that I thought the matter concludedon; but it only turned out a journey on paper, in which Grimm thoughtnothing so pleasing as making Diderot commit a number of impieties, andshutting me up in the Inquisition for them, instead of him. 

My regret at arriving so soon at Turin was compensated by the pleasure ofviewing a large city, and the hope of figuring there in a conspicuouscharacter, for my brain already began to be intoxicated with the fumes ofambition; my present situation appeared infinitely above that of anapprentice, and I was far from foreseeing how soon I should be much belowit. 

Before I proceed, I ought to offer an excuse, or justification to thereader for the great number of unentertaining particulars I amnecessitated to repeat. In pursuance of the resolution I have formed toenter on this public exhibition of myself, it is necessary that nothingshould bear the appearance of obscurity or concealment. I should becontinually under the eye of the reader, he should be enabled to followme In all the wanderings of my heart, through every intricacy of myadventures; he must find no void or chasm in my relation, nor lose sightof me an instant, lest he should find occasion to say, what was he doingat this time; and suspect me of not having dared to reveal the whole. Igive sufficient scope to malignity in what I say; it is unnecessary Ishould furnish still more by my science. 

My money was all gone, even that I had secretly received from Madam deWarrens: I had been so indiscreet as to divulge this secret, and myconductors had taken care to profit by it. Madam Sabran found means todeprive me of everything I had, even to a ribbon embroidered with silver, with which Madam de Warrens had adorned the hilt of my sword; this Iregretted more than all the rest; indeed the sword itself would have gonethe same way, had I been less obstinately bent on retaining it. Theyhad, it is true, supported me during the journey, but left me nothing atthe end of it, and I arrived at Turin, without money, clothes, or linen, being precisely in the situation to owe to my merit alone the whole honorof that fortune I was about to acquire. 

I took care in the first place to deliver the letters I was charged with, and was presently conducted to the hospital of the catechumens, to beinstructed in that religion, for which, in return, I was to receivesubsistence. On entering, I passed an iron-barred gate, which wasimmediately double-locked on me; this beginning was by no meanscalculated to give me a favorable opinion of my situation. I was thenconducted to a large apartment, whose furniture consisted of a woodenaltar at the farther end, on which was a large crucifix, and round itseveral indifferent chairs, of the same materials. In this hall ofaudience were assembled four or five ill-looking banditti, my comrades ininstruction, who would rather have been taken for trusty servants of thedevil than candidates for the kingdom of heaven. Two of these fellowswere Sclavonians, but gave out they were African Jews, and (as theyassured me) had run through Spain and Italy, embracing the Christianfaith, and being baptised wherever they thought it worth their labor. 

Soon after they opened another iron gate, which divided a large balconythat overlooked a court yard, and by this avenue entered our sistercatechumens, who, like me, were going to be regenerated, not by baptismbut a solemn abjuration. A viler set of idle, dirty, abandoned harlots, never disgraced any persuasion; one among them, however, appeared prettyand interesting; she might be about my own age, perhaps a year or twoolder, and had a pair of roguish eyes, which frequently encountered mine;this was enough to inspire me with the desire of becoming acquainted withher, but she had been so strongly recommended to the care of the oldgoverness of this respectable sisterhood, and was so narrowly watched bythe pious missionary, who labored for her conversion with more zeal thandiligence, that during the two months we remained together in this house(where she had already been three) I found it absolutely impossible toexchange a word with her. She must have been extremely stupid, thoughshe had not the appearance of it, for never was a longer course ofinstruction; the holy man could never bring her to a state of mind fitfor abjuration; meantime she became weary of her cloister, declaringthat, Christian or not, she would stay there no longer; and they wereobliged to take her at her word, lest she should grow refractory, andinsist on departing as great a sinner as she came. 

This hopeful community were assembled in honor of the new-comer; when ourguides made us a short exhortation: I was conjured to be obedient to thegrace that Heaven had bestowed on me; the rest were admonished to assistme with their prayers, and give me edification by their good example. Our virgins then retired to another apartment, and I was left tocontemplate, at leisure, that wherein I found myself. 

The next morning we were again assembled for instruction: I now began toreflect, for the first time, on the step I was about to take, and thecircumstances which had led me to it. 

I repeat, and shall perhaps repeat again, an assertion I have alreadyadvanced, and of whose truth I every day receive fresh conviction, whichis, that if ever child received a reasonable and virtuous education, itwas myself. Born in a family of unexceptionable morals, every lesson Ireceived was replete with maxims of prudence and virtue. My father(though fond of gallantry) not only possessed distinguished probity, butmuch religion; in the world he appeared a man of pleasure, in his familyhe was a Christian, and implanted early in my mind those sentiments hefelt the force of. My three aunts were women of virtue and piety; thetwo eldest were professed devotees, and the third, who united all thegraces of wit and good sense, was, perhaps, more truly religious thaneither, though with less ostentation. From the bosom of this amiablefamily I was transplanted to M. Lambercier's, a man dedicated to theministry, who believed the doctrine he taught, and acted up to itsprecepts. He and his sister matured by their instructions thoseprinciples of judicious piety I had already imbibed, and the meansemployed by these worthy people were so well adapted to the effect theymeant to produce, that so far from being fatigued, I scarce ever listenedto their admonitions without finding myself sensibly affected, andforming resolutions to live virtuously, from which, except in moments offorgetfulness, I seldom swerved. At my uncle's, religion was far moretiresome, because they made it an employment; with my master I thought nomore of it, though my sentiments continued the same: I had no companionsto vitiate my morals: I became idle, careless, and obstinate, but myprinciples were not impaired. 

I possessed as much religion, therefore, as a child could be supposedcapable of acquiring. Why should I now disguise my thoughts? I ampersuaded I had more. In my childhood, I was not a child; I felt, Ithought as a man: as I advanced in years, I mingled with the ordinaryclass; in my infancy I was distinguished from it. I shall doubtlessincur ridicule by thus modestly holding myself up for a prodigy--I amcontent. Let those who find themselves disposed to it, laugh their fill;afterward, let them find a child that at six years old is delighted, interested, affected with romances, even to the shedding floods of tears;I shall then feel my ridiculous vanity, and acknowledge myself in anerror. 

Thus when I said we should not converse with children on religion, if wewished them ever to possess any; when I asserted they were incapable ofcommunion with the Supreme Being, even in our confined degree, I drew myconclusions from general observation; I knew they were not applicable toparticular instances: find J. J. Rousseau of six years old, converse withthem on religious subjects at seven, and I will be answerable that theexperiment will be attended with no danger. 

It is understood, I believe, that a child, or even a man, is likely to bemost sincere while persevering in that religion in whose belief he wasborn and educated; we frequently detract from, seldom make any additionsto it: dogmatical faith is the effect of education. In addition to thisgeneral principle which attached me to the religion of my forefathers, Ihad that particular aversion our city entertains for Catholicism, whichis represented there as the most monstrous idolatry, and whose clergy arepainted in the blackest colors. This sentiment was so firmly imprintedon my mind, that I never dared to look into their churches--I could notbear to meet a priest in his surplice, and never did I hear the bells ofa procession sound without shuddering with horror; these sensations soonwore off in great cities, but frequently returned in country parishes, which bore more similarity to the spot where I first experienced them;meantime this dislike was singularly contrasted by the remembrance ofthose caresses which priests in the neighborhood of Geneva are fond ofbestowing on the children of that city. If the bells of the viaticumalarmed me, the chiming for mass or vespers called me to a breakfast, acollation, to the pleasure of regaling on fresh butter, fruits, or milk;the good cheer of M. De Pontverre had produced a considerable effect onme; my former abhorrence began to diminish, and looking on popery throughthe medium of amusement and good living, I easily reconciled myself tothe idea of enduring, though I never entertained but a very transient anddistant idea of making a solemn profession of it. 

At this moment such a transaction appeared in all its horrors; Ishuddered at the engagement I had entered into, and its inevitableconsequences. The future neophytes with which I was surrounded were notcalculated to sustain my courage by their example, and I could not helpconsidering the holy work I was about to perform as the action of avillain. Though young, I was sufficiently convinced, that whateverreligion might be the true one, I was about to sell mine; and even shouldI chance to chose the best, I lied to the Holy Ghost, and merited thedisdain of every good man. The more I considered, the more I despisedmyself, and trembled at the fate which had led me into such apredicament, as if my present situation had not been of my own seeking. There were moments when these compunctions were so strong that had Ifound the door open but for an instant, I should certainly have made myescape; but this was impossible, nor was the resolution of any longduration, being combated by too many secret motives to stand any chanceof gaining the victory. 

My fixed determination not to return to Geneva, the shame that wouldattend it, the difficulty of repassing the mountains, at a distance frommy country, without friends, and without resources, everything concurredto make me consider my remorse of conscience, as a too late repentance. I affected to reproach myself for what I had done, to seek excuses forthat I intended to do, and by aggravating the errors of the past, lookedon the future as an inevitable consequence. I did not say, nothing isyet done, and you may be innocent if you please; but I said, tremble atthe crime thou hast committed, which hath reduced thee to the necessityof filling up the measure of thine iniquities. 

It required more resolution than was natural to my age to revoke thoseexpectations which I had given them reason to entertain, break thosechains with which I was enthralled, and resolutely declare I wouldcontinue in the religion of my forefathers, whatever might be theconsequence. The affair was already too far advanced, and spite of allmy efforts they would have made a point of bringing it to a conclusion. 

The sophism which ruined me has had a similar affect on the greater partof mankind, who lament the want of resolution when the opportunity forexercising it is over. The practice of virtue is only difficult from ourown negligence; were, we always discreet, we should seldom have occasionfor any painful exertion of it; we are captivated by desires we mightreadily surmount, give into temptations that might easily be resisted, and insensibly get into embarrassing, perilous situations, from which wecannot extricate ourselves but with the utmost difficulty; intimidated bythe effort, we fall into the abyss, saying to the Almighty, why hast thoumade us such weak creatures? But, notwithstanding our vain pretexts, Hereplies, by our consciences, I formed ye too weak to get out of the gulf, because I gave ye sufficient strength not to have fallen into it. 

I was not absolutely resolved to become a Catholic, but, as it was notnecessary to declare my intentions immediately, I gradually accustomedmyself to the idea; hoping, meantime, that some unforeseen event wouldextricate me from my embarrassment. In order to gain time, I resolved tomake the best defence I possibly could in favor of my own opinion; but myvanity soon rendered this resolution unnecessary, for on finding Ifrequently embarrassed those who had the care of my instruction, I wishedto heighten my triumph by giving them a complete overthrow. I zealouslypursued my plan, not without the ridiculous hope of being able to convertmy convertors; for I was simple enough to believe, that could I convincethem of their errors, they would become Protestants; they did not find, therefore, that facility in the work which they had expected, as Idiffered both in regard to will and knowledge from the opinion they hadentertained of me. 

Protestants, in general, are better instructed in the principles of theirreligion than Catholics; the reason is obvious; the doctrine of theformer requires discussion, of the latter a blind submission; theCatholic must content himself with the decisions of others, theProtestant must learn to decide for himself; they were not ignorant ofthis, but neither my age nor appearance promised much difficulty to menso accustomed to disputation. They knew, likewise, that I had notreceived my first communion, nor the instructions which accompany it;but, on the other hand, they had no idea of the information I received atM. Lambercier's, or that I had learned the history of the church andempire almost by heart at my father's; and though (since that time, nearly forgot, when warmed by the dispute, very unfortunately for thesegentlemen), it again returned to my memory. 

A little old priest, but tolerably venerable, held the first conference;at which we were all convened. On the part of my comrades, it was rathera catechism than a controversy, and he found more pains in giving theminstruction than answering their objections; but when it came to my turn, it was a different matter; I stopped him at every article, and did notspare a single remark that I thought would create a difficulty: thisrendered the conference long and extremely tiresome to the assistants. My old priest talked a great deal, was very warm, frequently rambled fromthe subject, and extricated himself from difficulties by saying he wasnot sufficiently versed in the French language. 

The next day, lest my indiscreet objections should injure the minds ofthose who were better disposed, I was led into a separate chamber and putunder the care of a younger priest, a fine speaker; that is, one who wasfond of long perplexed sentences, and proud of his own abilities, if everdoctor was. I did not, however, suffer myself to be intimidated by hisoverbearing looks: and being sensible that I could maintain my ground, Icombated his assertions, exposed his mistakes, and laid about me in thebest manner I was able. He thought to silence me at once with St. Augustine, St. Gregory, and the rest of the fathers, but found, to hisineffable surprise, that I could handle these almost as dexterously ashimself; not that I had ever read them, or he either, perhaps, but Iretained a number of passages taken from my Le Sueur, and when he borehard on me with one citation, without standing to dispute, I parried itwith another, which method embarrassed him extremely. At length, however, he got the better of me for two very potent reasons; in thefirst place, he was of the strongest side; young as I was, I thought itmight be dangerous to drive him to extremities, for I plainly saw the oldpriest was neither satisfied with me nor my erudition. In the nextplace, he had studied, I had not; this gave a degree of method to hisarguments which I could not follow; and whenever he found himself pressedby an unforeseen objection he put it off to the next conference, pretending I rambled from the question in dispute. Sometimes he evenrejected all my quotations, maintaining they were false, and, offering tofetch the book, defied me to find them. He knew he ran very little risk, and that, with all my borrowed learning, I was not sufficientlyaccustomed to books, and too poor a Latinist to find a passage in a largevolume, had I been ever so well assured it was there. I even suspectedhim of having been guilty of a perfidy with which he accused ourministers, and that he fabricated passages sometimes in order to evade anobjection that incommoded him. 

Meanwhile the hospital became every day more disagreeable to me, andseeing but one way to get out of it, I endeavored to hasten my abjurationwith as much eagerness as I had hitherto sought to retard it. 

The two Africans had been baptised with great ceremony, they were habitedin white from head to foot to signify the purity of their regeneratedsouls. My turn came a month after; for all this time was thoughtnecessary by my directors, that they might have the honor of a difficultconversion, and every dogma of their faith was recapitulated, in order totriumph the more completely over my new docility. 

At length, sufficiently instructed and disposed to the will of mymasters, I was led in procession to the metropolitan church of St. John, to make a solemn abjuration, and undergo a ceremony made use of on theseoccasions, which, though not baptism, is very similar, and serves topersuade the people that Protestants are not Christians. I was clothedin a kind of gray robe, decorated with white Brandenburgs. Two men, onebehind, the other before me, carried copper basins which they keptstriking with a key, and in which those who were charitably disposed puttheir alms, according as they found themselves influenced by religion orgood will for the new convert; in a word, nothing of Catholic pageantrywas omitted that could render the solemnity edifying to the populace, orhumiliating to me. The white dress might have been serviceable, but as Ihad not the honor to be either Moor or Jew, they did not think fit tocompliment me with it. 

The affair did not end here, I must now go to the Inquisition to beabsolved from the dreadful sin of heresy, and return to the bosom of thechurch with the same ceremony to which Henry the Fourth was subjected byhis ambassador. The air and manner of the right reverend FatherInquisitor was by no means calculated to dissipate the secret horror thatseized my spirits on entering this holy mansion. After several questionsrelative to my faith, situation, and family, he asked me bluntly if mymother was damned? Terror repressed the first gust of indignation; thisgave me time to recollect myself, and I answered, I hope not, for Godmight have enlightened her last moments. The monk made no reply, but hissilence was attended with a look by no means expressive of approbation. 

All these ceremonies ended, the very moment I flattered myself I shouldbe plentifully provided for, they exhorted me to continue a goodChristian, and live in obedience to the grace I had received; thenwishing me good fortune, with rather more than twenty francs of smallmoney in my pocket, the produce of the above--mentioned collection, turned me out, shut the door on me, and I saw no more of them!

Thus, in a moment, all my flattering expectations were at an end; andnothing remained from my interested conversion but the remembrance ofhaving been made both a dupe and an apostate. It is easy to imagine whata sudden revolution was produced in my ideas, when every brilliantexpectation of making a fortune terminated by seeing myself plungedin the completest misery. In the morning I was deliberating what palaceI should inhabit, before night I was reduced to seek my lodging in thestreet. It may be supposed that I gave myself up to the most violenttransports of despair, rendered more bitter by a consciousness that myown folly had reduced me to these extremities; but the truth is, Iexperienced none of these disagreeable sensations. I had passed twomonths in absolute confinement; this was new to me; I was nowemancipated, and the sentiment I felt most forcibly, was joy at myrecovered liberty. After a slavery which had appeared tedious, I wasagain master of my time and actions, in a great city, abundant inresources, crowded with people of fortune, to whom my merit and talentscould not fail to recommend me. I had sufficient time before me toexpect this good fortune, for my twenty livres seemed an inexhaustibletreasure, which I might dispose of without rendering an account of toanyone. It was the first time I had found myself so rich, and far fromgiving way to melancholy reflections, I only adopted other hopes, inwhich self-love was by no means a loser. Never did I feel so great adegree of confidence and security; I looked on my fortune as already madeand was pleased to think I should have no one but myself to thank for theacquisition of it. 

The first thing I did was to satisfy my curiosity by rambling all overthe city, and I seemed to consider it as a confirmation of my liberty; Iwent to see the soldiers mount guard, and was delighted with theirmilitary accouterment; I followed processions, and was pleased with thesolemn music of the priests; I next went to see the king's palace, whichI approached with awe, but seeing others enter, I followed their example, and no one prevented me; perhaps I owed this favor to the small parcel Icarried under my arm; be that as it may, I conceived a high opinion of myconsequence from this circumstance, and already thought myself aninhabitant there. The weather was hot; I had walked about till I wasboth fatigued and hungry; wishing for some refreshment, I went into amilk-house; they brought me some cream-cheese curds and whey, and twoslices of that excellent Piedmont bread, which I prefer to any other; andfor five or six sous I had one of the most delicious meals I everrecollect to have made. 

It was time to seek a lodging: as I already knew enough of thePiedmontese language to make myself understood, this was a work of nogreat difficulty; and I had so much prudence, that I wished to adapt itrather to the state of my purse than the bent of my inclinations. In thecourse of my inquiries, I was informed that a soldier's wife, inPo-street, furnished lodgings to servants out of place at only one sou anight, and finding one of her poor beds disengaged, I took possession ofit. She was young and newly married, though she already had five or sixchildren. Mother, children and lodgers, all slept in the same chamber, and it continued thus while I remained there. She was good-natured, swore like a carman, and wore neither cap nor handkerchief; but she had agentle heart, was officious; and to me both kind and serviceable. 

For several days I gave myself up to the pleasures of independence andcuriosity; I continued wandering about the city and its environs, examining every object that seemed curious or new; and, indeed, mostthings had that appearance to a young novice. I never omitted visitingthe court, and assisted regularly every morning at the king's mass. I thought it a great honor to be in the same chapel with this princeand his retinue; but my passion for music, which now began to make itsappearance, was a greater incentive than the splendor of the court, which, soon seen and always the same, presently lost its attraction. The King of Sardinia had at that time the best music in Europe; Somis, Desjardins, and the Bezuzzi shone there alternately; all these were notnecessary to fascinate a youth whom the sound of the most simpleinstrument, provided it was just, transported with joy. Magnificenceonly produced a stupid admiration, without any violent desire to partakeof it, my thoughts were principally employed in observing whether anyyoung princess was present that merited my homage, and whom I could makethe heroine of a romance. 

Meantime, I was on the point of beginning one; in a less elevated sphere, it is true, but where could I have brought it to a conclusion, I shouldhave found pleasures a thousand times more delicious. 

Though I lived with the strictest economy, my purse insensibly grewlighter. This economy was, however, less the effect of prudence thanthat love of simplicity, which, even to this day, the use of the mostexpensive tables has not been able to vitiate. Nothing in my idea, either at that time or since, could exceed a rustic repast; give me milk, vegetables, eggs, and brown bread, with tolerable wine and I shall alwaysthink myself sumptuously regaled; a good appetite will furnish out therest, if the maitre d' hotel, with a number of unnecessary footmen, donot satiate me with their important attentions. Five or six sous wouldthen procure me a more agreeable meal than as many livres would have donesince; I was abstemious, therefore, for want of a temptation to beotherwise: though I do not know but I am wrong to call this abstinence, for with my pears, new cheese, bread and some glasses of Montferrat wine, which you might have cut with a knife, I was the greatest of epicures. Notwithstanding my expenses were very moderate, it was possible to seethe end of twenty livres; I was every day more convinced of this, and, spite of the giddiness of youth, my apprehensions for the future amountedalmost to terror. All my castles in the air were vanished, and I becamesensible of the necessity of seeking some occupation that would procureme a subsistence. 

Even this was a work of difficulty; I thought of my engraving, but knewtoo little of it to be employed as a journeyman, nor do masters abound inTurin; I resolved, therefore, till something better presented itself, togo from shop to shop, offering to engrave ciphers, or coats of arms, onpieces of plate, etc. , and hoped to get employment by working at a lowprice; or taking what they chose to give me. Even this expedient did notanswer my expectations; almost all my applications were ineffectual, thelittle I procured being hardly sufficient to produce a few scanty meals. 

Walking one morning pretty early in the 'Contra nova', I saw a youngtradeswoman behind a counter, whose looks were so charmingly attractive, that, notwithstanding my timidity with the ladies, I entered the shopwithout hesitation, offered my services as usual: and had the happinessto have it accepted. She made me sit down and recite my little history, pitied my forlorn situation; bade me be cheerful, and endeavored to makeme so by an assurance that every good Christian would give me assistance;then (while she had occasion for) she went up stairs and fetched mesomething for breakfast. This seemed a promising beginning, nor was whatfollowed less flattering: she was satisfied with my work, and, when I hada little recovered myself, still more with my discourse. She was ratherelegantly dressed and notwithstanding her gentle looks this appearance ofgayety had disconcerted me; but her good-nature, the compassionate toneof her voice, with her gentle and caressing manner, soon set me at easewith myself; I saw my endeavors to please were crowned with success, andthis assurance made me succeed the more. Though an Italian, and toopretty to be entirely devoid of coquetry, she had so much modesty, and Iso great a share of timidity, that our adventure was not likely to bebrought to a very speedy conclusion, nor did they give us time to makeany good of it. I cannot recall the few short moments I passed with thislovely woman without being sensible of an inexpressible charm, and canyet say, it was there I tasted in their utmost perfection the mostdelightful, as well as the purest pleasures of love. 

She was a lively pleasing brunette, and the good nature that was paintedon her lovely face rendered her vivacity more interesting. She wascalled Madam Basile: her husband, who was considerably older thanherself, consigned her, during his absence, to the care of a clerk, toodisagreeable to be thought dangerous; but who, notwithstanding, hadpretensions that he seldom showed any signs of, except of ill--humors, agood share of which he bestowed on me; though I was pleased to hear himplay the flute, on which he was a tolerable musician. This secondEgistus was sure to grumble whenever he saw me go into his mistress'apartment, treating me with a degree of disdain which she took care torepay him with interest; seeming pleased to caress me in his presence, on purpose to torment him. This kind of revenge, though perfectly to mytaste, would have been still more charming in a 'tete a tete', but shedid not proceed so far; at least, there was a difference in theexpression of her kindness. Whether she thought me too young, that itwas my place to make advances, or that she was seriously resolved to bevirtuous, she had at such times a kind of reserve, which, though notabsolutely discouraging, kept my passion within bounds. 

I did not feel the same real and tender respect for her as I did forMadam de Warrens: I was embarrassed, agitated, feared to look, and hardlydared to breathe in her presence, yet to have left her would have beenworse than death: How fondly did my eyes devour whatever they could gazeon without being perceived! the flowers on her gown, the point of herpretty foot, the interval of a round white arm that appeared between herglove and ruffle, the least part of her neck, each object increased theforce of all the rest, and added to the infatuation. Gazing thus on whatwas to be seen, and even more than was to be seen, my sight becameconfused, my chest seemed contracted, respiration was every moment morepainful. I had the utmost difficulty to hide my agitation, to prevent mysighs from being heard, and this difficulty was increased by the silencein which we were frequently plunged. Happily, Madam Basile, busy at herwork, saw nothing of all this, or seemed not to see it: yet I sometimesobserved a kind of sympathy, especially at the frequent rising of herhandkerchief, and this dangerous sight almost mastered every effort, butwhen on the point of giving way to my transports, she spoke a few wordsto me with an air of tranquility, and in an instant the agitationsubsided. 

I saw her several times in this manner without a word, a gesture, or evena look, too expressive, making the least intelligence between us. Thesituation was both my torment and delight, for hardly in the simplicityof my heart, could I imagine the cause of my uneasiness. I shouldsuppose these 'tete a tete' could not be displeasing to her, at least, she sought frequent occasions to renew them; this was a verydisinterested labor, certainly, as appeared by the use she made, or eversuffered me to make of them. 

Being, one day, wearied with the clerk's discourse, she had retired toher chamber; I made haste to finish what I had to do in the back shop, and followed her; the door was half open, and I entered without beingperceived. She was embroidering near a window on the opposite side ofthe room; she could not see me; and the carts in the streets made toomuch noise for me to be heard. She was always well dressed, but this dayher attire bordered on coquetry. Her attitude was graceful, her headleaning gently forward, discovered a small circle of her neck; her hair, elegantly dressed was ornamented with flowers; her figure was universallycharming, and I had an uninterrupted opportunity to admire it. I wasabsolutely in a state of ecstasy, and, involuntary, sinking on my knees, I passionately extended my arms towards her, certain she could not hear, and having no conception that she could see me; but there was a chimneyglass at the end of the room that betrayed all my proceedings. I amignorant what effect this transport produced on her; she did not speak;she did not look on me; but, partly turning her head, with the movementof her finger only, she pointed to the mat that was at her feet--To startup, with an articulate cry of joy, and occupy the place she hadindicated, was the work of a moment; but it will hardly be believed Idared attempt no more, not even to speak, raise my eyes to hers, or restan instant on her knees, though in an attitude which seemed to rendersuch a support necessary. I was dumb, immovable, but far enough from astate of tranquility; agitation, joy, gratitude, ardent indefinitewishes, restrained by the fear of giving displeasure, which myunpractised heart too much dreaded, were sufficiently discernible. Sheneither appeared more tranquil, nor less intimidated than myself--uneasyat my present situation; confounded at having brought me there, beginningto tremble for the effects of a sign which she had made withoutreflecting on the consequences, neither giving encouragement, norexpressing disapprobation, with her eyes fixed on her work, sheendeavored to appear unconscious of everything that passed; but all mystupidity could not hinder me from concluding that she partook of myembarrassment, perhaps, my transports, and was only hindered by abashfulness like mine, without even that supposition giving me power tosurmount it. Five or six years older than myself, every advance, according to my idea, should have been made by her, and, since she didnothing to encourage mine, I concluded they would offend her. Even atthis time, I am inclined to believe I thought right; she certainly hadwit enough to perceive that a novice like me had occasion, not only forencouragement but instruction. 

I am ignorant how this animated, though dumb scene would have ended, orhow long I should have continued immovable in this ridiculous, thoughdelicious, situation, had we not been interrupted--in the height of myagitation, I heard the kitchen door open, which joined Madam Basile'schamber; who, being alarmed, said, with a quick voice and action, "Getup! Here's Rosina!" Rising hastily I seized one of her hands, which sheheld out to me, and gave it two eager kisses; at the second I felt thischarming hand press gently on my lips. Never in my life did I enjoy sosweet a moment; but the occasion I had lost returned no more, this beingthe conclusion of our amours. 

This may be the reason why her image yet remains imprinted on my heartin such charming colors, which have even acquired fresh lustre since Ibecame acquainted with the world and women. Had she been mistress of theleast degree of experience, she would have taken other measures toanimate so youthful a lover; but if her heart was weak, it was virtuous;and only suffered itself to be borne away by a powerful thoughinvoluntary inclination. This was, apparently, her first infidelity, andI should, perhaps, have found more difficulty in vanquishing her scruplesthan my own; but, without proceeding so far, I experienced in her companythe most inexpressible delights. Never did I taste with any other womanpleasures equal to those two minutes which I passed at the feet of MadamBasile without even daring to touch her gown. I am convinced nosatisfaction can be compared to that we feel with a virtuous woman weesteem; all is transport!--A sign with the finger, a hand lightly pressedagainst my lips, were the only favors I ever received from Madam Basile, yet the bare remembrance of these trifling condescensions continues totransport me. 

It was in vain I watched the two following days for another tete a tete;it was impossible to find an opportunity; nor could I perceive on herpart any desire to forward it; her behavior was not colder, but moredistant than usual, and I believe she avoided my looks for fear of notbeing able sufficiently to govern her own. The cursed clerk was morevexatious than ever; he even became a wit, telling me, with a satiricalsneer, that I should unquestionably make my way among the ladies. Itrembled lest I should have been guilty of some indiscretion, and lookingat myself as already engaged in an intrigue, endeavored to cover with anair of mystery an inclination which hitherto certainly had no great needof it; this made me more circumspect in my choice of opportunities, andby resolving only to seize such as should be absolutely free from thedanger of a surprise, I met none. 

Another romantic folly, which I could never overcome, and which, joinedto my natural timidity, tended directly to contradict the clerk'spredictions, is, I always loved too sincerely, too perfectly, I may say, to find happiness easily attainable. Never were passions at the sametime more lively and pure than mine; never was love more tender, moretrue, or more disinterested; freely would I have sacrificed my ownhappiness to that of the object of my affection; her reputation wasdearer than my life, and I could promise myself no happiness for which Iwould have exposed her peace of mind for a moment. This disposition hasever made me employ so much care, use so many precautions, such secrecyin my adventures, that all of them have failed; in a word, my want ofsuccess with the women has ever proceeded from having loved them toowell. 

To return to our Egistus, the fluter; it was remarkable that in becomingmore insupportable, the traitor put on the appearance of complaisance. From the first day Madam Basile had taken me under her protection, shehad endeavored to make me serviceable in the warehouse; and finding Iunderstood arithmetic tolerably well, she proposed his teaching me tokeep the books; a proposition that was but indifferently received by thishumorist, who might, perhaps, be fearful of being supplanted. As thisfailed, my whole employ, besides what engraving I had to do, was totranscribe some bills and accounts, to write several books over fair, and translate commercial letters from Italian into French. All at oncehe thought fit to accept the before rejected proposal, saying, he wouldteach me bookkeeping, by double--entry, and put me in a situation tooffer my services to M. Basile on his return; but there was something sofalse, malicious, and ironical, in his air and manner, that it was by nomeans calculated to inspire me with confidence. Madam Basile, repliedarchly, that I was much obliged to him for his kind offer, but she hopedfortune would be more favorable to my merits, for it would be a greatmisfortune, with so much sense, that I should only be a pitiful clerk. 

She often said, she would procure me some acquaintance that might beuseful; she doubtless felt the necessity of parting with me, and hadprudently resolved on it. Our mute declaration had been made onThursday, the Sunday following she gave a dinner. A Jacobin of goodappearance was among the guests, to whom she did me the honor to presentme. The monk treated me very affectionately, congratulated me on my lateconversion, mentioned several particulars of my story, which plainlyshowed he had been made acquainted with it, then, tapping me familiarlyon the cheek, bade me be good, to keep up my spirits, and come to see himat his convent, where he should have more opportunity to talk with me. I judged him to be a person of some consequence by the deference that waspaid him; and by the paternal tone he assumed with Madam Basile, to beher confessor. I likewise remember that his decent familiarity wasattended with an appearance of esteem, and even respect for his fairpenitent, which then made less impression on me than at present. Had Ipossessed more experience how should I have congratulated myself onhaving touched the heart of a young woman respected by her confessor!

The table not being large enough to accommodate all the company, a smallone was prepared, where I had the satisfaction of dining with ouragreeable clerk; but I lost nothing with regard to attention and goodcheer, for several plates were sent to the side-table which werecertainly not intended for him. 

Thus far all went well; the ladies were in good spirits, and thegentlemen very gallant, while Madam Basile did the honors of the tablewith peculiar grace. In the midst of the dinner we heard a chaise stopat the door, and presently some one coming up stairs--it was M. Basile. Methinks I now see him entering, in his scarlet coat with gold buttons--from that day I have held the color in abhorrence. M. Basile was a tallhandsome man, of good address: he entered with a consequential look andan air of taking his family unawares, though none but friends werepresent. His wife ran to meet him, threw her arms about his neck, andgave him a thousand caresses, which he received with the utmostindifference; and without making any return saluted the company and tookhis place at table. They were just beginning to speak of his journey, when casting his eye on the small table he asked in a sharp tone, whatlad that was? Madam Basile answered ingenuously. He then inquiredwhether I lodged in the house; and was answered in the negative. "Whynot?" replied he, rudely, "since he stays here all day, he might as wellremain all night too. " The monk now interfered, with a serious and trueeulogium on Madam Basile: in a few words he made mine also, adding, thatso far from blaming, he ought to further the pious charity of his wife, since it was evident she had not passed the bounds of discretion. Thehusband answered with an air of petulance, which (restrained by thepresence of the monk) he endeavored to stifle; it was, however, sufficient to let me understand he had already received information ofme, and that our worthy clerk had rendered me an ill office. 

We had hardly risen from table, when the latter came in triumph from hisemployer, to inform me, I must leave the house that instant, and nevermore during my life dare to set foot there. He took care to aggravatethis commission by everything that could render it cruel and insulting. I departed without a word, my heart overwhelmed with sorrow, less forbeing obliged to quit this amiable woman, than at the thought of leavingher to the brutality of such a husband. He was certainly right to wishher faithful; but though prudent and wellborn, she was an Italian, thatis to say, tender and vindictive; which made me think, he was extremelyimprudent in using means the most likely in the world to draw on himselfthe very evil he so much dreaded. 

Such was the success of my first adventure. I walked several times upand down the street, wishing to get a sight of what my heart incessantlyregretted; but I could only discover her husband, or the vigilant clerk, who, perceiving me, made a sign with the ell they used in the shop, whichwas more expressive than alluring: finding, therefore, that I was socompletely watched, my courage failed, and I went no more. I wished, at least, to find out the patron she had provided me, but, unfortunately, I did not know his name. I ranged several times round the convent, endeavoring in vain to meet with him. At length, other events banishedthe delightful remembrance of Madam Basile; and in a short time I so farforgot her, that I remained as simple, as much a novice as ever, nor didmy penchant for pretty women even receive any sensible augmentation. 

Her liberality had, however, increased my little wardrobe, though she haddone this with precaution and prudence, regarding neatness more thandecoration, and to make me comfortable rather than brilliant. The coat Ihad brought from Geneva was yet wearable, she only added a hat and somelinen. I had no ruffles, nor would she give me any, not but I felt agreat inclination for them. She was satisfied with having put it in mypower to keep myself clean, though a charge to do this was unnecessarywhile I was to appear before her. 

A few days after this catastrophe; my hostess, who, as I have alreadyobserved, was very friendly, with great satisfaction informed me she hadheard of a situation, and that a lady of rank desired to see me. Iimmediately thought myself in the road to great adventures; that beingthe point to which all my ideas tended: this, however, did not prove sobrilliant as I had conceived it. I waited on the lady with the servant;who had mentioned me: she asked a number of questions, and my answers notdispleasing her, I immediately entered into her service not, indeed, inthe quality of favorite, but as a footman. I was clothed like the restof her people, the only difference being, they wore a shoulder--knot, which I had not, and, as there was no lace on her livery, it appearedmerely a tradesman's suit. This was the unforeseen conclusion of all mygreat expectancies!

The Countess of Vercellis, with whom I now lived, was a widow withoutchildren; her husband was a Piedmontese, but I always believed her to bea Savoyard, as I could have no conception that a native of Piedmont couldspeak such good French, and with so pure an accent. She was amiddle-aged woman, of a noble appearance and cultivated understanding, being fond of French literature, in which she was well versed. Herletters had the expression, and almost the elegance of Madam deSavigne's; some of them might have been taken for hers. My principalemploy, which was by no means displeasing to me, was to write from herdictating; a cancer in the breast, from which she suffered extremely, not permitting her to write herself. 

Madam de Vercellis not only possessed a good understanding, but a strongand elevated soul. I was with her during her last illness, and saw hersuffer and die, without showing an instant of weakness, or the leasteffort of constraint; still retaining her feminine manners, withoutentertaining an idea that such fortitude gave her any claim tophilosophy; a word which was not yet in fashion, nor comprehended by herin the sense it is held at present. This strength of dispositionsometimes extended almost to apathy, ever appearing to feel as little forothers as herself; and when she relieved the unfortunate, it was ratherfor the sake of acting right, than from a principle of realcommiseration. I have frequently experienced this insensibility, in somemeasure, during the three months I remained with her. It would have beennatural to have had an esteem for a young man of some abilities, who wasincessantly under her observation, and that she should think, as she felther dissolution approaching, that after her death he would have occasionfor assistance and support: but whether she judged me unworthy ofparticular attention, or that those who narrowly watched all her motions, gave her no opportunity to think of any but themselves, she did nothingfor me. 

I very well recollect that she showed some curiosity to know my story, frequently questioning me, and appearing pleased when I showed her theletters I wrote to Madam de Warrens, or explained my sentiments; but asshe never discovered her own, she certainly did not take the right meansto come at them. My heart, naturally communicative, loved to display itsfeelings, whenever I encountered a similar disposition; but dry, coldinterrogatories, without any sign of blame or approbation on my answers, gave me no confidence. Not being able to determine whether my discoursewas agreeable or displeasing, I was ever in fear, and thought less ofexpressing my ideas, than of being careful not to say anything that mightseem to my disadvantage. I have since remarked that this dry method ofquestioning themselves into people's characters is a common trick amongwomen who pride themselves on superior understanding. These imagine, that by concealing their own sentiments, they shall the more easilypenetrate into those of others; being ignorant that this method destroysthe confidence so necessary to make us reveal them. A man, on beingquestioned, is immediately on his guard: and if once he supposes that, without any interest in his concerns, you only wish to set him a-talking, either he entertains you with lies, is silent, or, examining every wordbefore he utters it, rather chooses to pass for a fool, than to be thedupe of your curiosity. In short, it is ever a bad method to attempt toread the hearts of others by endeavoring to conceal our own. 

Madam de Vercellis never addressed a word to me which seemed to expressaffection, pity, or benevolence. She interrogated me coldly, and myanswers were uttered with so much timidity, that she doubtlessentertained but a mean opinion of my intellects, for latterly she neverasked me any questions, nor said anything but what was absolutelynecessary for her service. She drew her judgment less from what I reallywas, than from what she had made me, and by considering me as a footmanprevented my appearing otherwise. 

I am inclined to think I suffered at that time by the same interestedgame of concealed manoeuvre, which has counteracted me throughout mylife, and given me a very natural aversion for everything that has theleast appearance of it. Madam de Vercellis having no children, hernephew, the Count de la Roque, was her heir, and paid his courtassiduously, as did her principal domestics, who, seeing her endapproaching, endeavored to take care of themselves; in short, so manywere busy about her, that she could hardly have found time to think ofme. At the head of her household was a M. Lorenzy, an artful genius, with a still more artful wife; who had so far insinuated herself into thegood graces of her mistress, that she was rather on the footing of afriend than a servant. She had introduced a niece of hers as lady'smaid: her name was Mademoiselle Pontal; a cunning gypsy, that gaveherself all the airs of a waiting-woman, and assisted her aunt so well inbesetting the countess, that she only saw with their eyes, and actedthrough their hands. I had not the happiness to please this worthytriumvirate; I obeyed, but did not wait on them, not conceiving that myduty to our general mistress required me to be a servant to her servants. Besides this, I was a person that gave them some inquietude; they saw Iwas not in my proper situation, and feared the countess would discover itlikewise, and by placing me in it, decrease their portions; for such sortof people, too greedy to be just, look on every legacy given to others asa diminution of their own wealth; they endeavored, therefore, to keep meas much out of her sight as possible. She loved to write letters, in hersituation, but they contrived to give her a distaste to it; persuadingher, by the aid of the doctor, that it was too fatiguing; and, underpretence that I did not understand how to wait on her, they employed twogreat lubberly chairmen for that purpose; in a word, they managed theaffair so well, that for eight days before she made her will, I had notbeen permitted to enter the chamber. Afterwards I went in as usual, andwas even more assiduous than any one, being afflicted at the sufferingsof the unhappy lady, whom I truly respected and beloved for the calmnessand fortitude with which she bore her illness, and often did I shed tearsof real sorrow without being perceived by any one. 

At length we lost her--I saw her expire. She had lived like a woman ofsense and virtue, her death was that of a philosopher. I can truly say, she rendered the Catholic religion amiable to me by the serenity withwhich she fulfilled its dictates, without any mixture of negligence oraffectation. She was naturally serious, but towards the end of herillness she possessed a kind of gayety, too regular to be assumed, whichserved as a counterpoise to the melancholy of her situation. She onlykept her bed two days, continuing to discourse cheerfully with thoseabout her to the very last. 

She had bequeathed a year's wages to all the under servants, but, notbeing on the household list, I had nothing: the Count de la Roque, however, ordered me thirty livres, and the new coat I had on, which M. Lorenzy would certainly have taken from me. He even promised to procureme a place; giving me permission to wait on him as often as I pleased. Accordingly, I went two or three times, without being able to speak tohim, and as I was easily repulsed, returned no more; whether I did wrongwill be seen hereafter. 

Would I had finished what I have to say of my living at Madam deVercellis's. Though my situation apparently remained the same, I did notleave her house as I had entered it: I carried with me the long andpainful remembrance of a crime; an insupportable weight of remorse whichyet hangs on my conscience, and whose bitter recollection, far fromweakening, during a period of forty years, seems to gather strength as Igrow old. Who would believe, that a childish fault should be productiveof such melancholy consequences? But it is for the more than probableeffects that my heart cannot be consoled. I have, perhaps, caused anamiable, honest, estimable girl, who surely merited a better fate thanmyself, to perish with shame and misery. 

Though it is very difficult to break up housekeeping without confusion, and the loss of some property; yet such was the fidelity of thedomestics, and the vigilance of M. And Madam Lorenzy, that no article ofthe inventory was found wanting; in short, nothing was missing but a pinkand silver ribbon, which had been worn, and belonged to MademoisellePontal. Though several things of more value were in my reach, thisribbon alone tempted me, and accordingly I stole it. As I took no greatpains to conceal the bauble, it was soon discovered; they immediatelyinsisted on knowing from whence I had taken it; this perplexed me--Ihesitated, and at length said, with confusion, that Marion gave it me. 

Marion was a young Mauriennese, and had been cook to Madam de Vercellisever since she left off giving entertainments, for being sensible she hadmore need of good broths than fine ragouts, she had discharged her formerone. Marion was not only pretty, but had that freshness of color only tobe found among the mountains, and, above all, an air of modesty andsweetness, which made it impossible to see her without affection; she wasbesides a good girl, virtuous, and of such strict fidelity, that everyonewas surprised at hearing her named. They had not less confidence in me, and judged it necessary to certify which of us was the thief. Marion wassent for; a great number of people were present, among whom was the Countde la Roque: she arrives; they show her the ribbon; I accuse her boldly:she remains confused and speechless, casting a look on me that would havedisarmed a demon, but which my barbarous heart resisted. At length, shedenied it with firmness, but without anger, exhorting me to return tomyself, and not injure an innocent girl who had never wronged me. Withinfernal impudence, I confirmed my accusation, and to her face maintainedshe had given me the ribbon: on which, the poor girl, bursting intotears, said these words--"Ah, Rousseau! I thought you a gooddisposition--you render me very unhappy, but I would not be in yoursituation. " She continued to defend herself with as much innocence asfirmness, but without uttering the least invective against me. Hermoderation, compared to my positive tone, did her an injury; as it didnot appear natural to suppose, on one side such diabolical assurance; onthe other, such angelic mildness. The affair could not be absolutelydecided, but the presumption was in my favor; and the Count de la Roque, in sending us both away, contented himself with saying, "The conscienceof the guilty would revenge the innocent. " His prediction was true, andis being daily verified. 

I am ignorant what became of the victim of my calumny, but there islittle probability of her having been able to place herself agreeablyafter this, as she labored under an imputation cruel to her character inevery respect. The theft was a trifle, yet it was a theft, and, what wasworse, employed to seduce a boy; while the lie and obstinacy left nothingto hope from a person in whom so many vices were united. I do not evenlook on the misery and disgrace in which I plunged her as the greatestevil: who knows, at her age, whither contempt and disregarded innocencemight have led her?--Alas! if remorse for having made her unhappy isinsupportable, what must I have suffered at the thought of rendering hereven worse than myself. The cruel remembrance of this transaction, sometimes so troubles and disorders me, that, in my disturbed slumbers, I imagine I see this poor girl enter and reproach me with my crime, as though I had committed it but yesterday. While in easy tranquilcircumstances, I was less miserable on this account, but, during atroubled agitated life, it has robbed me of the sweet consolation ofpersecuted innocence, and made me wofully experience, what, I think, Ihave remarked in some of my works, that remorse sleeps in the calmsunshine of prosperity, but wakes amid the storms of adversity. I couldnever take on me to discharge my heart of this weight in the bosom of afriend; nor could the closest intimacy ever encourage me to it, even withMadam de Warrens: all I could do, was to own I had to accuse myself of anatrocious crime, but never said in what it consisted. The weight, therefore, has remained heavy on my conscience to this day; and I cantruly own the desire of relieving myself, in some measure, from it, contributed greatly to the resolution of writing my Confessions. 

I have proceeded truly in that I have just made, and it will certainly bethought I have not sought to palliate the turpitude of my offence; but Ishould not fulfill the purpose of this undertaking, did I not, at thesame time, divulge my interior disposition, and excuse myself as far asis conformable with truth. 

Never was wickedness further from my thoughts, than in that cruel moment;and when I accused the unhappy girl, it is strange, but strictly true, that my friendship for her was the immediate cause of it. She waspresent to my thoughts; I formed my excuse from the first object thatpresented itself: I accused her with doing what I meant to have done, and as I designed to have given her the ribbon, asserted she had givenit to me. When she appeared, my heart was agonized, but the presenceof so many people was more powerful than my compunction. I did not fearpunishment, but I dreaded shame: I dreaded it more than death, more thanthe crime, more than all the world. I would have buried, hid myself inthe centre of the earth: invincible shame bore down every othersentiment; shame alone caused all my impudence, and in proportion as Ibecame criminal, the fear of discovery rendered me intrepid. I felt nodread but that of being detected, of being publicly, and to my face, declared a thief, liar, and calumniator; an unconquerable fear of thisovercame every other sensation. Had I been left to myself, I shouldinfallibly have declared the truth. Or if M. De la Rogue had taken measide, and said--"Do not injure this poor girl; if you are guilty ownit, "--I am convinced I should instantly have thrown myself at his feet;but they intimidated, instead of encouraging me. I was hardly out of mychildhood, or rather, was yet in it. It is also just to make someallowance for my age. In youth, dark, premeditated villainy is morecriminal than in a riper age, but weaknesses are much less so; my faultwas truly nothing more; and I am less afflicted at the deed itself thanfor its consequences. It had one good effect, however, in preserving methrough the rest of my life from any criminal action, from the terribleimpression that has remained from the only one I ever committed; and Ithink my aversion for lying proceeds in a great measure from regret athaving been guilty of so black a one. If it is a crime that can beexpiated, as I dare believe, forty years of uprightness and honor onvarious difficult occasions, with the many misfortunes that haveoverwhelmed my latter years, may have completed it. Poor Marion hasfound so many avengers in this world, that however great my offencetowards her, I do not fear to bear the guilt with me. Thus have Idisclosed what I had to say on this painful subject; may I be permittednever to mention it again.