instance of virtue; there being no moral obligation to lament even the death of a father. Whoever in such a case, therefore, is not really afflicted, ought not to affect the appearance of it; for it is more necessary always to avoid deceit, than to comply with custom.]
[Footnote 26: Moliere ought not to be ranked here with Racine: the first indeed abounds with maxims and sentential observations, like all the others, especially in his versified pieces: but in Racine all is sentimental; he makes every character speak for the author, and is in this point truly singular among all the dramatic writers of his nation.]
[Footnote 27: I should have but a bad opinion of the reader’s sagacity, who, knowing the character and situation of Eloisa, should think this piece of curiosity hers. It will be seen hereafter that her lover knew to whom to attribute it. If he could have been deceived in this point, he had not deserved the name of a lover.]
[Footnote 28: If the reader approves of this criterion, and makes use of it to judge of this work, I will not appeal from his judgment, whatever it prove.]
[Footnote 29: Freedom, ease, cleverness.]
[Footnote 30: Speak for yourself, my dear philosopher, others may have been more happy. A coquet only, promises to every body, what she should reserve but for one.]
[Footnote 31: Amorous imagination.]
[Footnote 32: Things are changed since that time. By many circumstances one would suppose these letters to have been written above twenty years ago; but by their stile, and the manners they describe, one would conclude them to be of the last century.]
[Footnote 33: I shall not give my opinion of this letter; but I doubt much, whether a judgment which allows them the qualities they despise, and denies them those which they value, will be pleasing to the French ladies.]
[Footnote 34: Obliged by the tyrant to appear on the stage, he lamented his disgrace in some very affecting verses which justly irritated every honest mind against Caesar. _After having lived,_ said he, _sixty years with honour, I left my house this morning, a Roman knight, but shall return to it this evening an infamous stage-player.
Alas! I have lived a day too long. O fortune! if it was my lot to be thus once disgraced, why did you not force me hither while youth and vigour had left me at least an agreeable person: but now, what a wretched object do I present to the insults of the people of Rome? a feeble voice, a weak body, a mere corpse an animated skeleton, which has nothing left of me but my name._ The entire prologue which he spoke on this occasion, the injustice done him by Caesar, who was piqued at the noble freedom with which he avenged his offended honour, the affront he receives at the circus, the meanness of Cicero in upbraiding him, with the ingenious and satirical reply of Laberius, are all preserved by Aulus Gellius, and compose in my opinion the most curious and interesting piece in his whole collection: which is, for the most part, a very insipid one.]
[Footnote 35: They know nothing of this in Italy; the public would not suffer it, and thus the entertainment is subject to less expense: it would cost too much to be ill-served.]
[Footnote 37: The light airs of the French music have not been unaptly compared to a cow’s courant, or the hobblings of a fat goose attempting to fly.]
[Footnote 38: And why should he not omit it? have the women of these times any thing to do with concerns of this kind? what would become of us and the state? what would become of our celebrated authors, our illustrious academicians, if the ladies should give up the direction of matters of literature and business, and apply themselves only to the affairs of their family?]
[Footnote 39: We find in the fourth part, that this feigned name was St. Preux.]
[Footnote 40: Where did the honest Swiss learn this? women of gaiety have long since assumed more imperious airs. They begin by boldly introducing their lovers into the house, and if they permit their husbands to continue there, it is only while they behave towards them with proper respect. A woman who took pains to conceal a criminal intrigue, would shew that she was ashamed, and would be despised; not one female of spirit would take notice of her.]
[Footnote 41: Mr. Richardson makes a jest of these attachments founded at first sight, and founded on an unaccountable congeniality of nature. It is easy to laugh at these attachments; but as too many of this kind take place, instead of entertaining ourselves with controverting them, would it not be better to teach us how to conquer them.]
[Footnote 42: Admitting the analogy to be chimerical, yet it lasts as long as the illusion, which makes us suppose it real.]
[Footnote 43: Minister of the parish.]
[Footnote 44: See page 170 of the present volume.]
[Footnote 45: See the first Vol. Letter 24.]
[Footnote 46: No association is more common than pride and stinginess.
We take from nature, from real pleasures, nay from the stock of necessaries, what we lavish upon opinion. One man adorns his palace at the expense of his kitchen: another prefers a fine service of plate to a good dinner: a third makes a sumptuous entertainment, and starves himself the rest of the year. When I see a side-board richly decorated, I expect that the wine will poison me. How often in the country, when we breathe the fresh morning air, are we tempted by the prospect of a fine garden? we rise early, and by walking gain a keen appetite, which makes us wish for breakfast. Perhaps the domestic is out of the way, or provisions are wanting, or the lady has not given her orders, and you are tired to death with waiting. Sometimes they prevent your desires, and make you a very pompous offer of every thing, upon condition that you accept of nothing. You must last till three o’clock, or breakfast with the tulips. I remember to have walked in a very beautiful park, which belonged to a lady, who tho’ extremely fond of coffee, never drank any but when it was at a very low price; yet she very liberally allowed her gardener a salary of a thousand crowns. For my part, I should chuse to have tulips less finely variegated, and to drink coffee whenever my appetite called for it.]
[Footnote 47: A strange letter this, for the discussion of such a subject. Do men argue so coolly on a question of this nature, when they examine it on their own accounts? Is the letter a forgery, or does the author reason only with an intent to be refuted? what makes our opinion in this particular dubious, is the example of Robeck which he cites, and which seems to warrant his own. Robeck deliberated so gravely that he had patience to write a book, a large, voluminous, weighty, and dispassionate book; and when he had concluded, according to his principles, that it was lawful to put an end to our being, he destroyed himself with the same composure that he wrote. Let us beware of the prejudices of the times, and of particular countries. When suicide is out of fashion, we conclude that none but madmen destroy themselves; all the efforts of courage appear chimerical to dastardly minds; every one judges of others by himself. Nevertheless, how many instances are there, well attested, of men, in every other respect perfectly discreet; who, without remorse, rage, or despair, have quitted life for no other reason than because it was a burthen to them, and have died with more composure than they lived?]
[Footnote 48: No, my lord, we do not put an end to misery by these means, but rather fill the measure of affliction, by burning asunder the last ties which attach us to felicity. When we regret what was dear to us, grief itself still attaches us to the object we lament, which is a state less deplorable, than to be attached to nothing.]
[Footnote 49: Obligations more dear than those of friendship! is it a philosopher who talks thus! But this affected sophist was of an amorous disposition.]
[Footnote 50: I do not rightly understand this: Kensington not being above a mile and a half from London, the noblemen who go to court, do not lie there; yet Lord B---- tells us, he was obliged to stay there I know not how many days.]
[Footnote 51: What great obligation has he to her, who occasioned all the misfortunes of his life? Thou wretched querist! he is indebted to her for the honour, the virtue and peace of his beloved Eloisa: he owes her everything.]
[Footnote 52: At Paris, they pique themselves on rendering society easy and commodious; and this ease is made to consist of a great number of rules, equally important with the above. In good company, every thing is regulated according to form and order. All these ceremonies are in and out of fashion as quick as lightening. The science of polite life consists in being always upon the watch, to seize them as they fly, to affect them, and shew that we are acquainted with the mode of the day.]
[Footnote 53: In my Letter to M. D’Alembert, concerning the theatres, I have transcribed the following passage and some others; but as I was then preparing this edition, I thought it better to wait this publication till I took notice of the quotation.]
[Footnote 54: I have narrowly examined into the management of great families, and I have found it impossible for a master who has twenty servants, to know whether he has one honest man among them, and not to mistake the greatest rascal perhaps to be that one. This alone would give me an aversion to riches. The rich lose one of the sweetest pleasures of life, the pleasure of confidence and esteem. They purchase all their gold at a dear rate!]
[Footnote 55: Desert islands in the South sea, celebrated in Lord Anson’s voyage.]
[Footnote 56: The mice, owls, hawks, and above all, children.]
[Footnote 57: They were therefore like those fashionable little woods, so ridiculously twisted, that you are obliged to walk in a zig zag manner, and to make a _pirouette_ at every step.]
[Footnote 58: I am persuaded that sometime hence, gardens will be furnished with nothing belonging to the country; neither plants or trees will be suffered to grow in them: we shall see nothing but China flowers, baboons, arbor work, gravel of all colours, and fine vases with nothing in them.]
[Footnote 59: He might have enlarged on the bad taste of lopping trees in such a ridiculous manner, to make them shoot to the clouds, by taking off their fine tops, their umbrage, by draining the sap, and preventing their thriving. This method, it is true, supplies the gardeners with wood, but it robs the kingdom of it, which is not over stocked with it already. One would imagine that nature was different in France, from what it is in any other part of the world, they take so much pains to disfigure her. The parks are planted with nothing but long poles; they are like so many forests of masts, and you walk in the midst of woods without finding any shelter.]
[Footnote 60: The sagacious Wolmar had not sufficiently reflected. Was he, who was so skilful in judging of men, so bad a judge of nature?
Did he not know that if the author of nature displays his greatness in great things, he appears still greater in those which are small?]
[Footnote 61: I do not know whether there has ever been an attempt to give a slight curve to these long walks, that the eye may not be able to reach the end of the walk, and that the opposite extremity may be hid from the spectator. It is true, the beauty of the prospects in perspective would be lost by these means; but proprietors would reap one advantage which they generally prize at a high rate, which is that of making their grounds more extensive in appearance, and in the midst of a starry plot thus bounded, one might think himself in a vast park.
I am persuaded that the walk would be less tiresome, though more solitary; for whatever gives play to the imagination, excites ideas, and nourishes the mind; but gardeners are people who have no idea of these things. How often in a rural spot, would the pencil drop from their hands, as it did from Le Nostre’s in St. James’s park, if they knew like him what gave life to nature, and interested the beholder?]
[Footnote 62: He might have added the conclusion, which is very fine, and as apposite to the subject.
_Si vedria che I lo nemici Anno in seno, e si reduce Nel parere a noi felici Ogni lor felicita._] [Footnote 63: Mrs. Orbe was ignorant however that the first two names are titles of distinction in Russia; but Boyard is only that of a private gentleman.]
[Footnote 64: The reader is not yet acquainted with this reason; but he is desired not to be impatient.]
[Footnote 65: You women are very ridiculous, to think of rendering such a frivolous and fluctuating passion as that of love consistent.
Every thing in nature is changeable, every thing is continually fluctuating, and yet you would inspire a constant passion! And what right have you to pretend that we must love you for ever, because we loved you yesterday? Then preserve the same face, the same age, the same humour; be always the same, and we will always love you, if we can. But when you alter continually, and require us always to love you, it is in fact desiring us every minute not to love you; it is not seeking for constant minds, but looking out for such as are as fickle as your own.]
[Footnote 66: A bird of passage on the lake of Geneva, which is not good to eat.]
[Footnote 67: Different sorts of birds on the lake of Geneva, and very good to eat.]
[Footnote 68: These mountains are so high, that half an hour after sun-set, its rays still gild the tops of them, and the reflection of red on those white summits, forms a beautiful roseate colour, which may be perceived at a great distance.]
[Footnote 69: The snipe on the lake of Geneva is not the bird called by that name in France. The more lively and animated chirping of the former, gives an air of life and freshness to the lake at night, which renders its banks still more delightful.]
[Footnote 70: This letter appears to have been written before the receipt of the preceding.]
[Footnote 71: Not that this philosophical age has not produced one true philosopher. I know one, I must confess, and but one; but the happiest circumstance is, that he resides in my native country. Shall I venture publicly to name him, whose honour it is to have remained unknown? Yes, learned and modest Abauzit, let your sublime simplicity forgive my zeal, which, to say truth, hath not your name for its object. No, it is not you I would make known in an age unworthy to admire you; it is Geneva I would honour, by making it known as the place of your residence. It is my fellow citizens who are honoured by your presence. Happy the country, where the merit that conceals itself, is by so much the more esteemed. Happy the people, among whom presumptuous and forward youth is ashamed of its dogmatic insolence, and blushes at its vain knowledge before the learned ignorance of age.
Venerable and virtuous old man! you have never been praised by babbling wits; no noisy academician has written your elogium. Instead of depositing all your wisdom in books, you have displayed it in your life, as an example to the country you have deigned to make the object of your esteem. You have lived like Socrates; but he died by the hands of his fellow citizens, while you are cherished by yours.]
[Footnote 72: The letter here alluded to is not inserted in this collection. The reason of it, will be seen hereafter.]
[Footnote 73: There is near Clarens a village called Moutru, the right of common to which is sufficient to maintain the inhabitants, though they had not a foot of land of their own. For which reason, the freedom of that village is almost as difficult to be obtained as that of Berne. It is a great pity that some honest magistrate is not appointed to make these burghers a little more sociable, or their burghership less dear.]
[Footnote 74: Man, perverted from his first state of simplicity, becomes so stupid that he even knows not what to desire. His wishes always tend to wealth and never to happiness.]
[Footnote 75: To give to beggars, say some people, is to raise a nursery of thieves: though it is, on the contrary, to prevent their becoming such. I allow that the poor ought not to be encouraged to turn beggars; but, when once they are so, they ought to be supported, lest they should turn robbers. Nothing induces people to change their profession so much as their not being able to live by it: now those, who have once experienced the lazy life of a beggar, get such an aversion to work that they had rather go upon the highway, at the hazard of their necks, than betake themselves again to labour. A farthing is soon asked for and soon refused; but twenty farthings might provide a supper for a poor man, whom twenty refusals might exasperate to despair: and who is there who would ever refuse so slight a gift, if he reflected that he might thereby be the means of saving two men, the one from theft, and perhaps the other from being murdered? I have somewhere read that beggars are a kind of vermin, that hang about the wealthy. It is natural for children to cling about their parents; but the rich, like cruel parents, disown theirs, and leave them to be maintained by each other.]
[Footnote 76: And that it does so, appears to me indisputable. There is true magnificence in the proportion and symmetry of the parts of a great palace; but there is none in a confused heap of irregular buildings. There is a magnificence in the uniformity of a regiment in battalia; but none in the crowd of people, that stand gazing on them, although perhaps there is not a man among them whose apparel is not of more value than those of any individual soldier. In a word, magnificence is nothing more than a grand scene of regularity, whence it comes to pass that, of all sights imaginable, the most magnificent are those of nature.]
[Footnote 77: The noise of people in a house of distinction continually disturbs the quiet of the master of it. It is impossible for him to conceal any thing from so many Arguses. A crowd of creditors make him pay dear for that of his admirers. His apartments are generally so large and splendid, that he is obliged to betake himself to a closet that he may sleep at ease, and his monkey is often better lodged than himself. If he would dine, it depends on his cook and not on his appetite; if he would go abroad, he lies at the mercy of his horses. A thousand embarrassments stop him in the streets; he is impatient to be where he is going, but knows not the use of his legs. His mistress expects him, but the dirty pavement frightens him, and the weight of his laced coat oppresses him, so that he cannot walk twenty paces. Hence he loses, indeed, the opportunity of seeing his mistress; but he is well repaid by the by-standers for the disappointment, every one remarking his equipage, admiring it, and saying aloud to the next person, There goes Mr. Such-a-one!]
[Footnote 78: Locke himself, the sagacious Locke, has forgot it, instructing us rather in the things we ought to require of our children, than in the means.]
[Footnote 79: This doctrine, so true in itself, surprizes me as adopted by Mr. Wolmar; the reason of it will be seen presently.]
[Footnote 80: If there ever was a man upon earth made happy by his vanity, it is past a doubt, that he was a fool.]
[Footnote 81: Here appears to be some little mistake. Nothing is so useful to the judgment as memory: it is true, however, that it is not the remembrance of words.]
[Footnote 82: The translator cannot help observing that it was extraordinary in Mr. Rousseau to put such a false, ridiculous, assertion in the mouth of an Englishman.]
[Footnote 83: God forbid, that I should give a sanction to assertions so rash and severe; I insinuate only, that there are people who make such assertions; and for whose indiscretion, the conduct of the clergy in every country and of all religions, often give but too much occasion. So far am I, however, from intending meanly to screen myself by this note, that my real opinion on this subject is, that no true believer can be a persecutor and an enemy to toleration. If I were a magistrate, and the law inflicted death on atheists, I would begin to put it in execution, by burning the first man that should come to accuse and prosecute another.]
[Footnote 84: How! Will the deity take up with only the refuse of his creatures? not so; all the love the human heart can possess for created beings is so little, that when they think it is replete, it is yet vacant; an infinite object only can possess it entirely.]
[Footnote 85: It is certain, the mind must be fatigued by the unequal talk of contemplating the deity. Such ideas are too sensible for the vulgar, who require a more sensible object of devotion. Are the Catholics to blame, then, in filling their legends, their calendars, and their churches with little angels, cherubs, and handsome saints?
The infant Jesus, in the arms of his modest and beautiful mother, is one of the most affecting, and, at the same time, the most agreeable spectacles that Christian devotion can present to the view of the faithful.]
[Footnote 86: How much more natural is this humane sentiment, than the horrid zeal of persecutors, always employed in tormenting the unbeliever, as if, to damn him in this life, they themselves were the fore-runners of devils? I shall ever continue to repeat it; a persecutor of others cannot be a believer himself.]
[Footnote 87: There is here a long letter wanting, from Lord B---- to Eloisa. It is mentioned in the sequel; but, for particular reasons, I was obliged to suppress it.]
[Footnote 88: Hunting indeed might be added. But this exercise is now made so commodious, that there is not half the fatigue or pleasure in it there used to be. But I shall not here treat of this subject, which would furnish too much matter to be inserted in a note: I may take occasion, perhaps, to speak of it elsewhere.]
[Footnote 89: The vintage is very late in this country; because the principal crop is of white wines; to which the frost is of service.]
[Footnote 90: This will be better understood by the following extract of a letter from Eloisa, not inserted in this collection. This, says Mr. Wolmar, taking me aside, is the second proof I intended to put him to, if he had not paid great respect to your father, I should have mistrusted him. But, said I, how shall we reconcile that respect to the antipathy that subsists between them? It subsists no longer, replied he. Your father’s prejudices have done St. Preux all the harm they could; he has no farther reason to fear them, he is not angry at your father, but pities him. The baron, on his side, is no longer jealous of St. Preux; he has a good heart; is sensible he has injured him, and is sorry for it. I see they will do very well together, and will for the future see each other with pleasure. From this moment therefore I shall put an entire confidence in him.]
[Footnote 91: In Switzerland they drink a great deal of bitter wine; and in general, as the herbs of the Alps have more virtue than the plants of other countries, they make great use of infusions.]
[Footnote 92: If hence arises a kind of equality not less agreeable to those who descend, than to those who are elevated, does it not follow, that all conditions of life are in themselves almost indifferent, since people are not always confined to them? Beggars are unhappy, because they are always beggars; kings are miserable, because they are always kings. People in a middling condition are the happiest, because they can easier vary their circumstances, to enjoy the pleasures of those above or those below them. They are also more intelligent, because they have an opportunity of knowing more of the prejudices of mankind and of comparing them with each other. This seems to me the principal reason why, generally speaking, people of a middling station in life are the most happy and are persons of the best sense.]
[Footnote 93: For the better understanding this letter, the reader should have been made acquainted with the adventures of Lord B----, which at first I had indeed some notion of inserting in this collection. But, on second thought, I could not resolve to spoil the simplicity of this history of the two lovers, with the romance of his.
It is better to leave something to the reader’s imagination.]
[Footnote 94: By a letter not published in this collection, it appears that Lord B---- was of opinion, that the souls of the wicked are annihilated in death.]
[Footnote 95: At present they do not take the trouble to seek the vices of foreigners: the latter are ready enough to bring them.]
[Footnote 96: It is to be remembered that these letters were written some years ago, a circumstance, I am afraid, that will be often suggested to the reader.]
[Footnote 97: Some men are continent without having any merit in it, others are so through virtue, and I doubt not there are many Romish priests in the latter situation: but to impose a state of celibacy on so numerous a body of men as the clergy of that church, it is not to bid them abstain from women, but to be content with the wives of other men. I am really surprized that in countries where morals are held in any esteem, the legislature should tolerate such scandalous engagements.]
[Footnote 98: This is a direct contradiction to what he asserted before. The poor philosopher seems to be in a droll dilemma between two pretty women. One might be apt to think he chose to make love to neither, that he might the better love them both.]
[Footnote 99: St. Preux supposes moral conscience to depend on sentiment not on judgment, which is contrary to the opinion of the philosophers. I am apt to think however that he is in the right.]
[Footnote 100: This is not the matter in dispute. It is to know whether the will be determined without a cause, or what is the cause that determines the will.]
[Footnote 101: Our gallant philosopher having imitated Abelard in his practice, seems desirous also of adopting his principles. Their notion of prayer being a good deal alike.]
[Footnote 102: A sort of enthusiasts that take it into their heads to follow the gospel strictly according to the letter; in the manner of the Methodists in England the Moravians in Germany, and the Jansenists in France; excepting, however, that the latter want only to be masters to be more severe and persecuting than their enemies.]
[Footnote 103: Hence it is that every sovereign who aspires to be despotic, aspires to the honour of being miserable. In every kingdom in the world, would you see the man who is the most unhappy of all his countrymen, go directly to the sovereign, particularly if he be an absolute monarch.]
[Footnote 104: This is not quite exact. Suetonius tells us that Vespasian employed himself as usual, and gave audience on his deathbed: but perhaps he had done better to have risen to give audience, and to have gone to bed again to die. This I know, that Vespasian, if not a great man, was at least a great prince; but it is not a time to put on the comedian at the hour of death.]
[Footnote 105: Plato says, that the souls of the just, who have contracted no uncleanness on earth, disengage themselves by death of all matter, and recover their original purity. But as to the souls of those who have indulged themselves in filthy and vicious passions, they do not soon recover that purity, but drag along with them certain terrestrial particles, that confine them, as it were, to hover about the receptacles of their bodies. Hence, says he, are seen those apparitions, which sometimes haunt burial places, etc. in expectation of new transmigrations,----It is a madness common to philosophers in all ages, to deny the existence of what is real, and to puzzle their brains to explain what is only imaginary.]
[Footnote 106: This seems to me to be well expressed; for what can it be to meet the Deity face to face, but to be able to read the supreme intelligence.]
[Footnote 107: It is easy to understand that, by the word _see_, is here meant purely an act of the intellect, such as that whereby we are said to see the Deity, and the Deity to see us. We cannot perceive the immediate communication of spirits: but we can conceive it very well; and better, in my opinion, than the communication of motion between bodies.]
[Footnote 108: It is clearly to be seen that the dream of St. Preux, of which Mrs. Orbe’s imagination was constantly full, suggested the expedient of the veil. I conceive also that if we examine into matters of this kind strictly, we shall find the same relation between many predictions and their accomplishment. Events are not always predicted because they are to happen; but they happen because they were predicted.]
[Footnote 109: The people of this country, though protestants, are extremely superstitious.]
[Footnote 110: After having read these letters several times over, I think I have discovered the reason why the interest, which I imagine every well-disposed reader will take in them, though perhaps not very great, is yet agreeable: and this is, because, little as it may prove, it is not excited by villainies or crimes, nor mixed with the disagreeable sensations of hatred. I cannot conceive what pleasure it can give a writer, to imagine and describe the character of a villain; to put himself in his situation as often as he represents his actions, or to set them in the most flattering point of view. For my part, I greatly pity the authors of many of our tragedies, so full of wickedness and horror, who spend their lives in making characters act and speak, which one cannot see or hear without shuddering. It would be to me a terrible misfortune to be condemned to such labour; nor can I think but that those who do it for amusement must be violently zealous for the amusement of the public. I admire their genius and talents; but I thank God, that he has not bestowed such talents upon me.----]