Colonel Roguin insisted on crossing the mountain with me, and installing me at Moiters.  A sister-in-law to Madam Boy de la Tour, named Madam Girardier, to whom the house in which I was going to live was very convenient, did not see me arrive there with pleasure; however, she with a good grace put me in possession of my lodgings, and I eat with her until Theresa came, and my little establishment was formed.

Perceiving at my departure from Montmorency I should in future be a fugitive upon the earth, I hesitated about permitting her to come to me and partake of the wandering life to which I saw myself condemned.  I felt the nature of our relation to each other was about to change, and that what until then had on my part been favor and friendship, would in future become so on hers.  If her attachment was proof against my misfortunes, to this I knew she must become a victim, and that her grief would add to my pain.  Should my disgrace weaken her affections, she would make me consider her constancy as a sacrifice, and instead of feeling the pleasure I had in dividing with her my last morsel of bread, she would see nothing but her own merit in following me wherever I was driven by fate.

I must say everything; I have never concealed the vices either of my poor mamma or myself; I cannot be more favorable to Theresa, and whatever pleasure I may have in doing honor to a person who is dear to me, I will not disguise the truth, although it may discover in her an error, if an involuntary change of the affections of the heart be one.  I had long perceived hers to grow cooler towards me, and that she was no longer for me what she had been in our younger days.  Of this I was the more sensible, as for her I was what I had always been.  I fell into the same inconvenience as that of which I had felt the effect with mamma, and this effect was the same now I was with Theresa.  Let us not seek for perfection, which nature never produces; it would be the same thing with any other woman.  The manner in which I had disposed of my children, however reasonable it had appeared to me, had not always left my heart at ease.  While writing my ‘Treatise on Education’, I felt I had neglected duties with which it was not possible to dispense.  Remorse at length became so strong that it almost forced from me a public confession of my fault at the beginning of my ‘Emilius’, and the passage is so clear, that it is astonishing any person should, after reading it, have had the courage to reproach me with my error.  My situation was however still the same, or something worse, by the animosity of my enemies, who sought to find me in a fault.  I feared a relapse, and unwilling to run the risk, I preferred abstinence to exposing Theresa to a similar mortification.  I had besides remarked that a connection with women was prejudicial to my health; this double reason made me form resolutions to which I had but sometimes badly kept, but for the last three or four years I had more