The Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau — Volume 09Rousseau, Jean-Jacques
Philosophy
The Confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau — Volume 09
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques
Authors, French -- 18th century -- Biography; Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 1712-1778
Struck with astonishment at reading this letter I vainly endeavored to
find out what it meant. How! instead of answering me with simplicity,
he took time to consider of what I had written, as if the time he had
already taken was not sufficient! He intimates even the state of
suspense in which he wishes to keep me, as if a profound problem was to
be resolved, or that it was of importance to his views to deprive me of
every means of comprehending his intentions until the moment he should
think proper to make them known. What therefore did he mean by these
precautions, delays, and mysteries? Was this manner of acting consistent
with honor and uprightness? I vainly sought for some favorable
interpretation of his conduct; it was impossible to find one. Whatever
his design might be, were this inimical to me, his situation facilitated
the execution of it without its being possible for me in mine to oppose
the least obstacle. In favor in the house of a great prince, having an
extensive acquaintance, and giving the tone to common circles of which he
was the oracle, he had it in his power, with his usual address, to
dispose everything in his favor; and I, alone in my Hermitage, far
removed from all society, without the benefit of advice, and having no
communication with the world, had nothing to do but to remain in peace.
All I did was to write to Madam d'Epinay upon the illness of her son, as
polite a letter as could be written, but in which I did not fall into the
snare of offering to accompany her to Geneva.
After waiting for a long time in the most cruel uncertainty, into which
that barbarous man had plunged me, I learned, at the expiration of eight
or ten days, that Madam d'Epinay was setoff, and received from him a
second letter. It contained not more than seven or eight lines which I
did not entirely read. It was a rupture, but in such terms as the most
infernal hatred only can dictate, and these became unmeaning by the
excessive degree of acrimony with which he wished to charge them. He
forbade me his presence as he would have forbidden me his states. All
that was wanting to his letter to make it laughable, was to be read over
with coolness. Without taking a copy of it, or reading the whole of the
contents, I returned it him immediately, accompanied by the following
note:
"I refused to admit the force of the just reasons I had of suspicion: I
now, when it is too late, am become sufficiently acquainted with your
character.
"This then is the letter upon which you took time to meditate: I return
it to you, it is not for me. You may show mine to the whole world and
hate me openly; this on your part will be a falsehood the less."
My telling he might show my preceding letter related to an article in his
by which his profound address throughout the whole affair will be judged
of.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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