souri. J'ignore quel chemin il a fait dans le monde. Mon Héloïse du moins m'a fait passer de bons momens, quoique je ne l'aie pas non plus engendrée sans douleur, et qu'on l'ait insultée."-Tom. i. 185. Rousseau's conversational powers are also attested by the Prince de Ligne, who visited him in 1770. The conversation at first turned upon music and botany, but, as soon as the subject of his writings was introduced, "Il quitta dans l'instant sa musique, sa pervenche, et ses lunettes, entra dans des détails supérieurs, peut-être, à tout ce qu'il avait écrit, et parcourut toutes les nuances de ses idées avec une justesse qu'il perdait quelquefois dans la soli, tude, à force de méditer et d'écrire. Ses yeux étaient comme deux astres. Son génie rayonnait dans ses regards, et m'électrisait.-Sa vilaine femme ou servante nous interrompait quelquefois par quelques questions saugrenues qu'elle faisait sur son linge ou sur sa soupe, il lui répondait avec douceur, et aurait ennobli un morceau de fromage s'il en avait parlé."t This may be the language of exaggeration, but the writer makes a concluding remark, which contains a more unequivocal testimony to Rousseau's powers than any direct encomium. "Je n'ai jamais eu tant d'esprit (et ce fut, je crois, la première et la dernière fois de ma vie) que pendant les huit heures que je passai avec JeanJaques dans mes deux conversations." And in truth, this is one of the principal charms and advantages of an intercourse with men of genius, that for the moment they raise our minds to a level with their own. There is a long extract from an extremely interesting account of the last years and death of Rousseau, by a M. Corancez, an amiable and sensible man, who knew him intimately, and, generally bearing with his infirmities, continued his friend, and retained his confidence to the last. Some of the details that M. C. gives establish beyond a question the insanity of his unfortunate friend. Independent of the more generally-known facts upon which this malady has been imputed to Rousseau, M. Corancez mentions frequent physical attacks, we should imagine epileptic, which leave no doubt that there existed an organical derangement of the functions of the brain-the final result, not improbably, of that sudden rush of blood to the head persecutors! That child, oppressed from its birth, never smiled upon me. I know not what course it has pursued in the world.-My Heloise has at least afforded me some happy moments, though it was not brought forth without pain, nor has it escaped insult." Rousseau, it would appear, was never married to Thérèse. He simply named her his wife one day in the presence of two friends, and afterwards continued the title. Tom. i. 469. He instantly abandoned his music, his periwinkle, and his glass, and entered into details, superior perhaps to any thing he had written. He passed through all the shades of his ideas with a degree of accuracy which he sometimes lost in solitude, through the labour of meditating and writing. His eyes beamed like two stars. His genius flashed in his looks, and electrified me. His vulgar wife or servant several times interrupted us with impertinent questions concerning his linen or his soup, which he answered with mildness. He would have ennobled a piece of cheese, had he conversed about it. I never felt my mind so much inspired (and I believe it was for the first and the last time in my life) as during the eight hours I spent in my two conversations with Jean-Jaques. in his youth, which J. J. has described in his Confessions. During the continuance of those attacks, his mind betrayed the most unequivocal symptoms of the nature of the visitation. The same narrative shows, we think, with almost equal clearness, that Rousseau terminated his own life-though, from some motives of prudence or delicacy, a different story was circulated by the family in whose house he expired. He was interred at Ermenonville in the Isle of Poplars. The scene is feelingly touched upon by his friend. "L'inhumation eut lieu le soir même par le plus beau clair de lune, et le temps le plus calme. Le lecteur peut se figurer quelles furent mes sensations en passant dans l'île avec le corps-le lieu, le clair de lune, le calme de l'air, l'homme, le rapprochement des actes de sa vie, une destinée aussi extraordinaire, le résultat qui nous attend tous; mais sur quoi ma pensée s'arrêta le plus longtemps et avec le plus de complaisance, c'est qu'enfin le malheureux Rousseau jouissait d'un repos, bien acheté à la vérité, mais qu'il était impossible d'espérer pour lui tant qu'il aurait vécu."* Tom. i. 270. The volumes before us contain a large fund of incidental anecdote relating to J. J.'s contemporaries; from which we can offer only a few scanty selections, and these in a desultory form. To begin with the ladies Madame de Houdetot.-Who would have thought that this idol of Rousseau's imagination, and, in part, the prototype of the divine Julie, was, not only not what her admirer fancied her, but absolutely ugly? "Ce sera une consolation pour les femmes laides (says a Madame d'Allard, in a recent letter to, we believe, the Biographer) d'apprendre que Madame d'Houdetot, qui l'était beaucoup, a dû à son esprit et surtout à son charmant caractère, d'être si passionnément et si constamment aimée. Elle avait non-seulement la vue basse, et les yeux ronds, comme le dit Rousseau, mais elle était excessivement louche, ce que empêchait que son ame se peignît dans sa phisiognomie. Son front était très bas, son nez gros-la petite vérole avait laissé une teinte jaune dans tous ses creux, et les pores étaient marqués de brun. Cela donna un air sale à son teint, qui, je crois, était beau avant cette maladie.”† Tom. ii. 141. The readers of the Confessions will recollect the mention of Rousseau's letters to this lady, and his remark upon her assertion that she had burnt them The interment took place that very evening, during the brightest moonlight and the calmest weather. The reader may imagine what were my feelings as I proceeded to the isle with the body-the place, the moon-light, the serenity of the evening, the man, the recollection of the incidents of his life, his extraordinary destiny, and the common end which awaits us all;-but the circumstance on which my thoughts dwelt longest, and with most satisfaction, was, that at length the unfortunate Rousseau enjoyed repose, well merited it is true, but which it was impossible he could have hoped for while he lived. It will be a satisfaction to ordinary women, to learn that Madame d'Houdetot, who was so extremely plain, was indebted to her talent, and particularly to her charming temper, for being so passionately and so constantly beloved. She was not merely short-sighted, but her eyes were extremely round (as Rousseau himself remarks,) and she squinted so excessively as to deprive her countenance of all power of expression. Her forehead was very low, and her nose large. The small-pox had left in their marks a yellow tint, and the pores of her skin were brown. This gave a dingy appearance to her complexion, which, I believe, had been beautiful previous to that disease. "Non, l'on ne met point au feu de pareilles lettres. On a trouvé brulantes celles de la Julie. Eh, dieu! qu'aurait-on donc dit de celles-là? Si ces lettres sont encore en être, et qu'un jour elles soient vues, on connoîtra comment j'ai aimé."* Many years after, a Madame Broutain, anxious to ascertain their fate, inquired after them from Madame d'Houdetot. She replied, "that she had really burnt them all, one only excepted, which she had not the courage to destroy, it being a master-piece of eloquence and passion."-This one she had committed to the custody of M. St. Lambert, who, it turned out, had either mislaid or lost ita fatality which M. de Musset deeply deplores-and we are Jean-Jaquists enough to sympathise in his regrets. Madame d'Epinay.-There is a curious letter of this lady, and peculiarly characteristic of the time. She had heard, it seems, that J. J. was treating a select party of his friends to readings of the Confessions, and becoming alarmed for her character ("il y va de mon repos," are her words) she made a formal application to M. de Sartine, the police magistrate, to interfere, and put a stop to this libellous recitation. It is a little remarkable, that her letter charging Rousseau as a calumniator, indirectly attests his veracity. “Si vous lui faites donner sa parole (to discontinue,) je crois qu'il la tiendra." This is only one of the many instances recorded in these volumes, of such summary appeals against troublesome authors. Diderot, we have already seen, was immured for a joke. St. Lambert procured a lettre de cachet against a M. Clement for a rough critique on his Poem of the Seasons, (ii. 295)-and mention is made (ii. 347) of a scribbling Marquis (de Ximénès) who regularly applied to M. de Sartine, to muzzle all impertinent commentators upon his trash. D'Alembert.-M. Corancez relates, that after the death of Rousseau, D'Alembert bitterly reproached himself for his conduct towards him, and even went so far as to shed some tears. Upon this, M. de Musset, who questions the geometrician's sincerity, informs us that he was a perfect master of mimickry-"il pleurait ou riait à volonté❞—and in confirmation he introduces the following story: "C'est à ce don des larmes que La Harpe dut le succès de sa Milanie.— L'etiquette voulait qu'on eût pleuré à ce drame. D'Alembert ne manquait jamais d'accompagner La Harpe. Il prenait un air sérieux et composé, qui fixait d'abord l'attention. Au premier acte, il faisait remarquer les aperçus philosophiques de l'ouvrage; ensuite profitant du talent qu'il avait pour la pantsmime, il pleurait toujours aux mêmes endroits, ce qui imposait aux femmes la nécessité de s'attendrir-et comment auraient-elles eu les yeux secs, lorsqu'un philosophe fondait en larmes?" Tom. i. 10. No! letters like those could not be committed to the flames! If the letters of Julie were said to be ardent, what would be thought of those? If those letters be still in existence, and shall ever be seen, it will be known how I have loved. tTo D'Alembert's power of shedding tears at pleasure, La Harpe was indebted for the success of his Milanie. Etiquette required that the audience should weep at the representation. D'Alembert never failed to accompany La Harpe to the theatre. He assumed a serious and composed air, which at first rivetted attention. In the first act, he pointed out the philosophic views of the work; then, availing himself of his pantomimic talents, he invariably wept at the same passages, which Among the anecdotes there is an amusing and well-told account of a mystification practised by Sophie Arnould upon a party of her high acquaintances, who insisted upon her inviting her friend JeanJaques to meet them at her house. This was a few years before his death. Rousseau, as she anticipated, refused to come. "Voici (continues M. de Musset) comment elle se tira d'affaire. Le tailleur de la comédie avait quelque resemblance avec Jean-Jaques. Elle le remarque, et se résout à lui faire jouer le rôle de Rousseau. Les conventions sont bientôt faites-les voici-le tailleur doit prendre la perruque ronde, l'habit marron sans collet, la longue et grosse canne, tout le costume enfin de Jean-Jaques. Il aura soin de tenir la tête un peu penchée, de ne pas dire un seul mot-on lui laisse la liberté de manger et de boire, mais en observant toujours le même silenceil se levera de table à un signal convenu pour se retirer, et décampera sans rentrer dans le salon-il sera payé largement."* After these preliminaries the guests were invited to a supperparty, where the pretended Jean-Jaques appeared upon the right of Mademoiselle Arnould.-The scene is described at length.-To complete the illusion, the hostess circulated the bottle briskly. The mock-philosopher performed his part to admiration, as long as he continued sober; but, in spite of all Sophie's precautions, he at last became as drunk as the rest, "il tint des propos qui, sans l'ivresse des convives, leur auraient paru fort étranges."-However, the trick was not discovered till afterwards revealed by the contriver. "Chacun admira le muet-et trouve qu'il répondait parfaitement à l'idée qu'on s'était faite de son esprit et de ses talens." Tom i. 182. There are also the details of another mystification, where the real Jean-Jaques is presented to Madame Genlis, and supposed by her to be Preville the actor, dressed up to personate him. (ii. 193.)It is very cleverly related by Madame G, but we must refer for the particulars to the book itself. Upon the whole, M. de Musset's work, though not an admirable specimen of biography, and unnecessarily voluminous, contains a large stock of new matter, tending to elucidate many passages in the life and character of his subject; and as such, must be considered to be a valuable and necessary supplement to the published editions of Rousseau's writings. imposed on the ladies the necessity of appearing moved; for how could they keep their eyes dry, when even a philosopher was melted in tears? She got over the difficulty in the following manner. The tailor of the theatre somewhat resembled Jean-Jaques. She had remarked this, and determined to make him act the part of Rousseau. The arrangements, were speedily made, as follows:-The tailor to appear with the round wig, the chesnut-coloured coat without a collar, the long thick cane, in short the whole costume of Jean-Jaques. He must hold his head a little inclined, and not utter a single word. He is to be allowed the freedom of eating and drinking, always preserving the same silence. He must rise from table at a given signal, retire without returning to the salon, and finally he shall be handsomely paid. TRANSLATION OF A SONNET BY MONTI.* (The Shade of Alfieri addresses the Northumberland.) TROU, British Oak, in laurell'd pride elate, Who to far shores, athwart the Atlantic tide, The conquer'd Conqueror of Kings dost guide, By Kings condemn'd to share an exile's fate;When thou arriv'st, in angry accents state That his false Gauls are shamed on every side:- In what unworthy chains she wept and sigh'd- And basely to a worthless harlot gave.- Lofty or spurn'd, in every change a slave, SONNET. To some the song of love is given, they raise The gladness of their passion:-Is thy heart H. So shalt thou never mourn o'er pleasures gone, Or, with a heaving breast, lament at things so vain, When tears, and strife, and wo, are heard in Hymen's train. C. L'OMBRA D' ALFIERI CHE PARLA AL NORTHUMBERLAND. Anglico altiero Pin d' alloro ornato, Che su' l' onde d'Atlante a estremi lidi Cui in esilio or vuol de' régi il fato:- L'onta palesa de' suoi Galli infidi, E i non mertati ceppi, e il pianto, ei gridi La sua, perchè vendeva con arte prava Or superba or viliacca, e sempre schiava, DA MONTI. |