Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, the — Complete eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 958 pages of information about Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, the — Complete.

Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, the — Complete eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 958 pages of information about Confessions of J. J. Rousseau, the — Complete.

Any one will allow that it would have been extraordinary, especially in the ardor of youth, that such a head should suffer the body to enjoy continued health; the alteration of mine had an effect on my temper, moderating the ardor of my chimerical fancies, for as I grew weaker they became more tranquil, and I even lost, in some measure, my rage for travelling.  I was not seized with heaviness, but melancholy; vapors succeeded passions, languor became sorrow:  I wept and sighed without cause, and felt my life ebbing away before I had enjoyed it.  I only trembled to think of the situation in which I should leave my dear Madam de Warrens; and I can truly say, that quitting her, and leaving her in these melancholy circumstances, was my only concern.  At length I fell quite ill, and was nursed by her as never mother nursed a child.  The care she took of me was of real utility to her affairs, since it diverted her mind from schemes, and kept projectors at a distance.  How pleasing would death have been at that time, when, if I had not tasted many of the pleasures of life, I had felt but few of its misfortunes.  My tranquil soul would have taken her flight, without having experienced those cruel ideas of the injustice of mankind which embitters both life and death.  I should have enjoyed the sweet consolation that I still survived in the dearer part of myself:  in the situation I then was, it could hardly be called death; and had I been divested of my uneasiness on her account, it would have appeared but a gentle sleep; yet even these disquietudes had such an affectionate and tender turn, that their bitterness was tempered by a pleasing sensibility.  I said to her, “You are the depository of my whole being, act so that I may be happy.”  Two or three times, when my disorder was most violent, I crept to her apartment to give her my advice respecting her future conduct; and I dare affirm these admonitions were both wise and equitable, in which the interest I took in her future concerns was strongly marked.  As if tears had been both nourishment and medicine, I found myself the better for those I shed with her, while seated on her bed-side, and holding her hands between mine.  The hours crept insensibly away in these nocturnal discourses; I returned to my chamber better than I had quitted it, being content and calmed by the promises she made, and the hopes with which she had inspired me:  I slept on them with my heart at peace, and fully resigned to the dispensations of Providence.  God grant, that after having had so many reasons to hate life, after being agitated with so many storms, after it has even become a burden, that death, which must terminate all, may be no more terrible than it would have been at that moment!

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