To the first I showed my comedy of Narcissus.He was pleased with it, and had the goodness to make in it some improvements.Diderot, younger than these, was much about my own age.He was fond of music, and knew it theoretically; we conversed together, and he communicated to me some of his literary projects.This soon formed betwixt us a more intimate connection which lasted fifteen years, and which probably would still exist were not I, unfortunately, and by his own fault, of the same profession with himself.
It would be impossible to imagine in what manner I employed this short and precious interval which still remained to me, before circumstances forced me to beg my bread:- in learning by memory passages from the poets which I had learned and forgotten a hundred times.Every morning, at ten o'clock, I went to walk in the Luxembourg with a Virgil and a Rousseau in my pocket, and there, until the hour of dinner, I passed away the time in restoring to my memory a sacred ode or a bucolic, without being discouraged by forgetting, by the study of the morning, what I had learned the evening before.Irecollected that after the defeat of Nicias at Syracuse the captive Athenians obtained a livelihood by reciting the poems of Homer.The use I made of this erudition to ward off misery was to exercise my happy memory by learning all the poets by rote.
I had another expedient, not less solid, in the game of chess, to which I regularly dedicated, at Maugis's, the evenings on which Idid not go to the theater.I became acquainted with M.de Legal, M.
Husson, Philidor, and all the great chess players of the day, without making the least improvement in the game.However, I had no doubt but, in the end, I should become superior to them all, and this, in my own opinion, was a sufficient resource.The same manner of reasoning served me in every folly to which I felt myself inclined.
I said to myself: whoever excels in anything is sure to acquire a distinguished reception in society.Let us therefore excel, no matter in what, I shall certainly be sought after; opportunities will present themselves, and my own merit will do the rest.This childishness was not the sophism of my reason; it was that of my indolence.Dismayed at the great and rapid efforts which would have been necessary to call forth my endeavors, I strove to flatter my idleness, and by arguments suitable to the purpose, veiled from my own eyes the shame of such a state.
I thus calmly waited for the moment when I was to be without money; and had not Father Castel, whom I sometimes went to see in my way to the coffee-house, roused me from my lethargy, I believe Ishould have seen myself reduced to my last farthing without the least emotion.Father Castel was a madman, but a good man upon the whole; he was sorry to see me thus impoverish myself to no purpose.
"Since musicians and the learned," said he, "do not sing by your scale, change the string, and apply to the women.You will perhaps succeed better with them.I have spoken of you to Madam de Beuzenval; go to her from me; she is a good woman who will be glad to see the countryman of her son and husband.You will find at her house Madam de Broglie, her daughter, who is a woman of wit.Madam Dupin is another to whom I also have mentioned you; carry her your work; she is desirous of seeing you, and will receive you well.
Nothing is done in Paris without the women.They are the curves, of which the wise are the asymptotes; they incessantly approach each other, but never touch."After having from day to day delayed these very disagreeable steps, I at length took courage, and called upon Madam de Beuzenval.
She received me with kindness; and Madam de Broglie entering the chamber, she said to her: "Daughter, this is M.Rousseau, of whom Father Castel has spoken to us." Madam de Broglie complimented me upon my work, and going to her harpsichord proved to me she had already given it some attention.Perceiving it to be about one o'clock, Iprepared to take my leave.Madam de Beuzenval said to me: "You are at a great distance from the quarter of the town in which you reside; stay and dine here." I did not want asking a second time.Aquarter of an hour afterwards, I understood, by a word, that the dinner to which she had invited me was that of her servants' hall.
Madam de Beuzenval was a very good kind of woman, but of a confined understanding, and too full of her illustrious Polish nobility: she had no idea of the respect due to talents.On this occasion, likewise, she judged me by my manner rather than by my dress, which, although very plain, was very neat, and by no means announced a man to dine with servants.I had too long forgotten the way to the place where they eat to be inclined to take it again.Without suffering my anger to appear, I told Madam de Beuzenval that I had an affair of a trifling nature which I had just recollected obliged me to return home, and I immediately prepared to depart.Madam de Broglie approached her mother, and whispered in her ear a few words which had their effect.Madam de Beuzenval rose to prevent me from going, and said "I expect that you will do us the honor to dine with us."In this case I thought to show pride would be a mark of folly, and Idetermined to stay.The goodness of Madam de Broglie had besides made an impression upon me, and rendered her interesting in my eyes.Iwas very glad to dine with her, and hoped, that when she knew me better, she would not regret having procured me that honor.The President de Lamoignon, very intimate in the family, dined there also.
He, as well as Madam de Broglie, was a master of all the modish and fashionable small talk jargon of Paris.Poor Jean-Jacques was unable to make a figure in this way.I had sense enough not to pretend to it, and was silent.Happy would it have been for me, had I always possessed the same wisdom; I should not be in the abyss into which Iam now fallen.
