These long details of my early youth must have appeared trifling, and I am sorry for it:  though born a man, in a variety of instances, I was long a child, and am so yet in many particulars.  I did not promise the public a great personage:  I promised to describe myself as I am, and to know me in my advanced age it was necessary to have known me in my youth.  As, in general, objects that are present make less impression on me than the bare remembrance of them (my ideas being all from recollection), the first traits which were engraven on my mind have distinctly remained:  those which have since been imprinted there, have rather combined with the former than effaced them.  There is a certain, yet varied succession of affections and ideas, which continue to regulate those that follow them, and this progression must be known in order to judge rightly of those they have influenced.  I have studied to develop the first causes, the better to show the concatenation of effects.  I would be able by some means to render my soul transparent to the eyes of the reader, and for this purpose endeavor to show it in every possible point of view, to give him every insight, and act in such a manner, that not a motion should escape him, as by this means he may form a judgment of the principles that produce them.

Did I take upon myself to decide, and say to the reader, “Such is my character,” he might think that if I did not endeavor to deceive him, I at least deceived myself; but in, recounting simply all that has happened to me, all my actions, thoughts, and feelings, I cannot lead him into an error, unless I do it wilfully, which by this means I could not easily effect, since it is his province to compare the elements, and judge of the being they compose:  thus the result must be his work, and if he is then deceived the error will be his own.  It is not sufficient for this purpose that my recitals should be merely faithful, they must also be minute; it is not for me to judge of the importance of facts, I ought to declare them simply as they are, and leave the estimate that is to be formed of them to him.  I have adhered to this principle hitherto, with the most scrupulous exactitude, and shall not depart from it in the continuation; but the impressions of age are less lively than those of youth; I began by delineating the latter:  should I recollect the rest with the same precision, the reader, may, perhaps, become weary and impatient, but I shall not be dissatisfied with my labor.  I have but one thing to apprehend in this undertaking:  I do not dread saying too much, or advancing falsities, but I am fearful of not saying enough, or concealing truths.

THE CONFESSIONS OF JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU (In 12 books)

Privately Printed for the Members of the Aldus Society

London, 1903

BOOK V.