Produced by David Widger
THE CONFESSIONS OF JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU
(In 12 books)
Privately Printed for the Members of the Aldus Society
London, 1903
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