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
At that time, the study I am now speaking of would have been well
placed, the opportunity was good, and I had some temptation to profit
by it; for the satisfaction I saw in the eyes of Anet, when he came
home loaded with new discovered plants, set me two or three times on the
point of going to herbalize with him, and I am almost certain that had I
gone once, I should have been caught, and perhaps at this day might have
been an excellent botanist, for I know no study more congenial to my
natural inclination, than that of plants; the life I have led for these
ten years past, in the country, being little more than a continual
herbalizing, though I must confess, without object, and without
improvement; but at the time I am now speaking of I had no inclination
for botany, nay, I even despised, and was disgusted at the idea,
considering it only as a fit study for an apothecary. Madam de Warens
was fond of it merely for this purpose, seeking none but common plants
to use in her medical preparations; thus botany, chemistry, and anatomy
were confounded in my idea under the general denomination of medicine,
and served to furnish me with pleasant sarcasms the whole day, which
procured me, from time to time, a box on the ear, applied by Madam de
Warens. Besides this, a very contrary taste grew up with me, and by
degrees absorbed all others; this was music. I was certainly born
for that science, I loved it from my infancy, and it was the only
inclination I have constantly adhered to; but it is astonishing that
what nature seemed to have designed me for should have cost so much
pains to learn, and that I should acquire it so slowly, that after a
whole life spent in the practice of this art, I could never attain to
sing with any certainty at sight. What rendered the study of music more
agreeable to me at that time, was, being able to practise it with Madam
de Warens. In other respects our tastes were widely different: this was
a point of coincidence, which I loved to avail myself of. She had no
more objection to this than myself. I knew at that time almost as much
of it as she did, and after two or three efforts, we could make shift to
decipher an air. Sometimes, when I saw her busy at her furnace, I
have said, “Here now is a charming duet, which seems made for the very
purpose of spoiling your drugs;” her answer would be, “If you make me
burn them, I’ll make you eat them:” thus disputing, I drew her to the
harpsichord; the furnace was presently forgotten, the extract of juniper
or wormwood calcined (which I cannot recollect without transport), and
these scenes usually ended by her smearing my face with the remains of
them.
It may easily be conjectured that I had plenty of employment to fill
up my leisure hours; one amusement, however, found room, that was well
worth all the rest.
[Illustration: 0162]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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