de Silhouette.By my numerous follies any person would have imagined Iwillfully endeavored to bring on myself the hatred of an amiable woman who had power, and to whom, in truth, I daily became more attached, and was far from wishing to occasion her displeasure, although by my awkward manner of proceeding, I did everything proper for that purpose.I think it superfluous to remark here, that it is to her the history of the opiate of M.Tronchin, of which I have spoken in the first part of my memoirs, relates; the other lady was Madam de Mirepoix.They have never mentioned to me the circumstance, nor has either of them, in the least, seemed to have preserved a remembrance of it; but to presume that Madam de Luxembourg can possibly have forgotten it appears to me very difficult, and would still remain so, even were the subsequent events entirely unknown.For my part, Ifell into a deceitful security relative to the effects of my stupid mistakes, by an internal evidence of my not having taken any step with an intention to offend; as if a woman could ever forgive what I had done, although she might be certain the will had not the least part in the matter.
Although she seemed not to see or feel anything, and that I did not immediately find either her warmth of friendship diminished or the least change in her manner, the continuation and even increase of a too well founded foreboding made me incessantly tremble, lest disgust should succeed to infatuation.Was it possible for me to expect in a lady of such high rank, a constancy proof against my want of address to support it? I was unable to conceal from her this secret foreboding, which made me uneasy, and rendered me still more disagreeable.This will be judged of by the following letter, which contains a very singular prediction.
N.B.This letter, without date in my rough copy, was written in October, 1760, at latest.
"How cruel is your goodness! Why disturb the peace of a solitary mortal who had renounced the pleasures of life, that he might no longer suffer the fatigues of them? I have passed my days in vainly searching for solid attachments.I have not been able to form any in the ranks to which I was equal; is it in yours that I ought to seek for them? Neither ambition nor interest can tempt me; I am not vain, but little fearful; I can resist everything except caresses.Why do you both attack me by a weakness which I must overcome, because in the distance by which we are separated, the overflowings of susceptible hearts cannot bring mine near to you? Will gratitude be sufficient for a heart which knows not two manners of bestowing its affections, and feels itself incapable of everything except friendship? Of friendship, madam la marechale! Ah! there is my misfortune! It is good in you and the marechal to make use of this expression; but I am mad when Itake you at your word.You amuse yourselves, and I become attached;and the end of this prepares for me new regrets.How do I hate all your titles, and pity you on account of your being obliged to bear them! You seem to me to be so worthy of tasting the charms of private life! Why do not you reside at Clarens? I would go there in search of happiness; but the castle of Montmorency, and the Hotel de Luxembourg! Is it in these places Jean-Jacques ought to be seen? Is it there a friend to equality ought to carry the affections of a sensible heart, and who thus paying the esteem in which he is held, thinks he returns as much as he receives? You are good and susceptible also:
this I know and have seen; I am sorry I was not sooner convinced of it; but in the rank you hold, in your manner of living, nothing can make a lasting impression; a succession of new objects efface each other so that not one of them remains.You will forget me, madam, after having made it impossible for me to imitate you.You have done a great deal to render me unhappy, to be inexcusable."I joined with her the marechal, to render the compliment less severe; for I was moreover so sure of him, that I never had a doubt in my mind of the continuation of his friendship.Nothing that intimidated me in madam la marechale, ever for a moment extended to him.I never have had the least mistrust relative to his character, which I knew to be feeble, but constant.I no more feared a coldness on his part than I expected from him an heroic attachment.The simplicity and familiarity of our manners with each other proved how far dependence was reciprocal.We were both always right: I shall ever honor and hold dear the memory of this worthy man, and, notwithstanding everything that was done to detach him from me, I am as certain of his having died my friend as if I had been present in his last moments.
