The Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau — CompleteRousseau, Jean-Jacques
Philosophy
The Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau — Complete
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques
Authors, French -- 18th century -- Biography; Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 1712-1778
When I again offered to pay, his inquietude and fears returned; he not
only would have no money, but refused it with the most evident emotion;
and what made this scene more amusing, I could not imagine the motive
of his fear. At length, he pronounced tremblingly those terrible words,
“Commissioners,” and “Cellar-rats,” which he explained by giving me to
understand that he concealed his wine because of the excise, and his
bread on account of the tax imposed on it; adding, he should be an
undone man, if it was suspected he was not almost perishing with want.
What he said to me on this subject (of which I had not the smallest
idea) made an impression on my mind that can never be effaced, sowing
seeds of that inextinguishable hatred which has since grown up in my
heart against the vexations these unhappy people suffer, and against
their oppressors. This man, though in easy circumstances, dare not
eat the bread gained by the sweat of his brow, and could only escape
destruction by exhibiting an outward appearance of misery!--I left his
cottage with as much indignation as concern, deploring the fate of those
beautiful countries, where nature has been prodigal of her gifts, only
that they may become the prey of barbarous exactors.
The incident which I have just related, is the only one I have a
distinct remembrance of during this journey: I recollect, indeed, that
on approaching Lyons, I wished to prolong it by going to see the banks
of the Lignon; for among the romances I had read with my father, Astrea
was not forgotten and returned more frequently to my thoughts than any
other. Stopping for some refreshment (while chatting with my hostess),
I inquired the way to Forez, and was informed that country was an
excellent place for mechanics, as there were many forges, and much iron
work done there. This eulogium instantly calmed my romantic curiosity,
for I felt no inclination to seek Dianas and Sylvanders among a
generation of blacksmiths. The good woman who encouraged me with this
piece of information certainly thought I was a journeyman locksmith.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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