Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, the — Volume 11 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 66 pages of information about Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, the — Volume 11.

Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, the — Volume 11 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 66 pages of information about Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, the — Volume 11.
to see my house, never ceased speaking to me about the work, but always with the greatest reserve.  He knew and he did not know that it was printing in France, and that the magistrate had a hand in it.  In expressing his concern for my embarrassment, he seemed to accuse me of imprudence without ever saying in what this consisted; he incessantly equivocated, and seemed to speak for no other purpose than to hear what I had to say.  I thought myself so secure that I laughed at his mystery and circumspection as at a habit he had contracted with ministers and magistrates whose offices he much frequented.  Certain of having conformed to every rule with the work, and strongly persuaded that I had not only the consent and protection of the magistrate, but that the book merited and had obtained the favor of the minister, I congratulated myself upon my courage in doing good, and laughed at my pusillanimous friends who seemed uneasy on my account.  Duclos was one of these, and I confess my confidence in his understanding and uprightness might have alarmed me, had I had less in the utility of the work and in the probity of those by whom it was patronized.  He came from the house of M. Baille to see me whilst ‘Emilius’ was in the press; he spoke to me concerning it; I read to him the ‘Profession of Faith of the Savoyard Vicar’, to which he listened attentively and, as it seemed to me with pleasure.  When I had finished he said:  “What! citizen, this is a part of a work now printing in Paris?”—­“Yes,” answered I, and it ought to be printed at the Louvre by order of the king.”—­I confess it,” replied he; “but pray do not mention to anybody your having read to me this fragment.”

This striking manner of expressing himself surprised without alarming me.  I knew Duclos was intimate with M. de Malesherbes, and I could not conceive how it was possible he should think so differently from him upon the same subject.

I had lived at Montmorency for the last four years without ever having had there one day of good health.  Although the air is excellent, the water is bad, and this may possibly be one of the causes which contributed to increase my habitual complaints.  Towards the end of the autumn of 1767, I fell quite ill, and passed the whole winter in suffering almost without intermission.  The physical ill, augmented by a thousand inquietudes, rendered these terrible.  For some time past my mind had been disturbed by melancholy forebodings without my knowing to what these directly tended.  I received anonymous letters of an extraordinary nature, and others, that were signed, much of the same import.  I received one from a counsellor of the parliament of Paris, who, dissatisfied with the present constitution of things, and foreseeing nothing but disagreeable events, consulted me upon the choice of an asylum at Geneva or in Switzerland, to retire to with his family.  An other was brought me from M. de -----, ‘president a mortier’ of the parliament of -----, who proposed to me to draw up for this Parliament, which was then at variance with the court, memoirs and remonstrances, and offering to furnish me with all the documents and materials necessary for that purpose.

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Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, the — Volume 11 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.