nature, unspoiled by the artificialities of society.  The work may be described as a novel because it cannot very well be described as anything else.  It is overwhelmingly long and diffuse; the slender stream of narrative threads its way through a wilderness of discourses on the passions, the arts, society, rural life, religion, suicide, natural scenery, and nearly everything else that Rousseau was interested in—­and his interests were legion.  “The New Heloise” is thoroughly characteristic of the wandering, enthusiastic, emotional-genius of its author.  Several brilliant passages in it are ranked among the classics of French literature; and of the work as a whole, it may be said, judicially and without praise or censure, that there is nothing quite like it in any literature.  Rousseau died near Paris, July 2, 1778.

I.—­“The Course of True Love"

TO JULIE

I must escape from you, mademoiselle.  I must see you no more.

You know that I entered your house as tutor to yourself and your cousin, Mademoiselle Claire, at your mother’s invitation.  I did not foresee the peril; at any rate, I did not fear it.  I shall not say that I am now paying the price of my rashness, for I trust I shall never fail in the respect due to your high birth, your beauty, and your noble character.  But I confess that you have captured my heart.  How could I fail to adore the touching union of keen sensibility and unchanging sweetness, the tender pity, all those spiritual qualities that are worth so much more to me than personal charms?

I have lost my reason.  I promise to strive to recover it.  You, and you alone, can help me.  Forbid me from appearing in your presence, show this letter if you like to your parents; drive me away.  I can endure anything from you.  I am powerless to escape of my own accord.

FROM JULIE

I must, then, reveal my secret!  I have striven to resist, but I am powerless.  Everything seems to magnify my love for you; all nature seems to be your accomplice; every effort that I make is in vain.  I adore you in spite of myself.

I hope and I believe that a heart which has seemed to me to deserve the whole attachment of mine will not belie the generosity that I expect of it; and I hope, also that if you should prove unworthy of the devotion I feel for you, my indignation and contempt will restore to me the reason that my love has caused me to lose.

TO JULIE

Oh, how am I to realise the torrent of delights that pours into my heart?  And how can I best reassure the alarms of a timid and loving woman?  Pure and heavenly beauty, judge more truly, I beseech you, of the nature of your power.  Believe me, if I adore your loveliness, it is because of the spotless soul of which that loveliness is the outward token.  When I cease to love virtue, I shall cease to love you, and I shall no longer ask you to love me.