commences with the following account of his first interview with Rousseau. In the month of June 1772, a mutual friend accompanied me to the dwelling of J. J. Rousseau, which was then in the Rue Platrière nearly opposite the post office. We ascended three pair of stairs and knocked at the door, which was opened to us by Madame Rousseau. She said to us"Come in, gentlemen, my husband is at home." We passed through a small antichamber neatly set out with household furniture into a room where Rousseau was seated in a great coat and white cap, copying music. He rose with a smiling air and placed chairs for us, and then sat down again to his work, conversing with us at the same time. 'He was of middling stature and thin. One of his shoulders appeared a little higher than the other, either from a natural defect, from age, or from his habitual attitude. In other respects he was well proportioned. His complexion was dark with a tinge of red on the cheeks-his mouth handsome-his nose well formed-his forehead round and high, and his eyes full of fire. The lines, which fall obliquely from the nostrils towards the extremities of the mouth and give the face its expression, denoted in his acute sensibility and something like distress. 'His sunken eyes and heavy eyebrows indicated melancholy, and the furrows in his forehead profound sadness; while at the same time a number of small wrinkles at the outer corners of the eyes, which closed when he laughed, expressed a lively and even satirical wit. These opposite qualities predominated by turns in the general expression of his countenance, accordingly as his mind was affected by the different subjects that occurred in conversation. When tranquil, it exhibited something of them all; and inspired at the same time feelings of affection, respect, and pity. 'Near him was a spinnet, which he occasionally touched. The furniture of the chamber consisted of two small beds of blue and white cotton and hangings of the same, a chest of drawers, a table, and a few chairs. There hung against the wall a plan of the wood and park of Montmorency, where he had lived, and an engraved portrait of the king of England, formerly his patron. His wife was seated at her needle work; a canary bird was singing in a cage which hung from the ceiling, and several sparrows were picking crumbs of bread at were numerous and considerable. There is also an entire absence of literary talent in the execution of the work, and it has no other merit than that of bringing together from various quarters all the facts that are known respecting the life of the famous Genevan, and of rendering more accessible several detached accounts, which had previously appeared of particular passages in his history. The Essay of Bernardin de St Pierre is of a different description, as may be supposed from the name of the writer. It has the attraction of style, which uniformly marks his productions, and the interest which necessarily attends the observations of one deep and powerful thinker upon the character of another. It is however only an unfinished fragment of less than a hundred pages, which the author did not complete, and which has lately appeared with some other unpublished writings in the edition of his works which we noticed in a former number. One or two passages contained in it were inserted by the author in the Studies of Nature. We propose to lay before our readers several extracts from this interesting little sketch, and shall afterwards add a few others from the materials collected by the new biographer. The acquaintance of Rousseau and Bernardin de St Pierre commenced in the following manner. The latter was returning home in the year 1771 from the Isle of France after his long and unsuccessful chase in pursuit of fortune; and touched in his way at the Cape of Good Hope, where he was detained for some time. In a letter from this place he dwells in strong language upon the pleasure, which he promised himself from his return of enjoying two summers in the same year-the month of January when he wrote being the time of vintage at the Cape and corresponding with that of August in France. The person to whom this letter was sent communicated it to Rousseau, who immediately expressed a desire to become acquainted with the writer. Upon his arrival at Paris, St Pierre was accordingly introduced to the eccentric philosopher. The latter received him with great cordiality, and said that he should always esteem a man, whose mind, on returning from the land of fortune, was occupied with the expectation of enjoying two summers in one year. Such was the beginning of their acquaintance, which grew into a lasting and intimate friendship. These facts are related by the biographer of St Pierre. His own narrative commences with the following account of his first interview with Rousseau. In the month of June 1772, a mutual friend accompanied me to the dwelling of J. J. Rousseau, which was then in the Rue Platrière nearly opposite the post office. We ascended three pair of stairs and knocked at the door, which was opened to us by Madame Rousseau. She said to us"Come in, gentlemen, my husband is at home." We passed through a small antichamber neatly set out with household furniture into a room where Rousseau was seated in a great coat and white cap, copying music. He rose with a smiling air and placed chairs for us, and then sat down again to his work, conversing with us at the same time. 'He was of middling stature and thin. One of his shoulders appeared a little higher than the other, either from a natural defect, from age, or from his habitual attitude. In other respects he was well proportioned. His complexion was dark with a tinge of red on the cheeks-his mouth handsome-his nose well formed-his forehead round and high, and his eyes full of fire. The lines, which fall obliquely from the nostrils towards the extremities of the mouth and give the face its expression, denoted in his acute sensibility and something like distress. 'His sunken eyes and heavy eyebrows indicated melancholy, and the furrows in his forehead profound sadness; while at the same time a number of small wrinkles at the outer corners of the eyes, which closed when he laughed, expressed a lively and even satirical wit. These opposite qualities predominated by turns in the general expression of his countenance, accordingly as his mind was affected by the different subjects that occurred in conversation. When tranquil, it exhibited something of them all; and inspired at the same time feelings of affection, respect, and pity. 'Near him was a spinnet, which he occasionally touched. The furniture of the chamber consisted of two small beds of blue and white cotton and hangings of the same, a chest of drawers, a table, and a few chairs. There hung against the wall a plan of the wood and park of Montmorency, where he had lived, and an engraved portrait of the king of England, formerly his patron. His wife was seated at her needle work; a canary bird was singing in a cage which hung from the ceiling, and several sparrows were picking crumbs of bread at a window that opened toward the street. At the anticham ber window were placed several boxes and pots of indigenous plants. Altogether there was an air of neatness and quiet simplicity in this little establishment, which was singularly pleasing. 'He spoke to me at first of his travels; and the conversation afterwards turned upon the news of the day. He then read to us the manuscript of a letter he had just been writing, in answer to one in which the Marquis de Mirabeau requested him to publish something more upon political subjects. He entreats the Marquis not to insist upon his engaging again in the bustle of literary controversy. We talked of his works, and I told him that those which pleased me most were the Devin du Village and the third volume of Emile. He appeared to be charmed with my opinion. "They are also those," said he, "which I am best pleased to have written. My enemies may say what they will, but they will never compose a Devin du Village." He showed us a collection of several sorts of seeds which he had arranged in little boxes. I said to him, that I had never seen before so large a collection of seeds made by a person, who had so little land to sow them in. This remark made him laugh. When we took our leave, he conducted us to the head of the stairs. 'Some days afterwards he came to return my visit. He was dressed in a complete suit of nankeen with a round wig curled and powdered, his hat under his arm, and a little cane in his hand. His appearance was plain but very neat, as that of Socrates is said to have been. I offered him a piece of marine eocoa with its fruit to increase his collection of seeds, and he accepted it. I shewed him a beautiful species of amaranth from the Cape, the flowers of which resemble strawberries and the leaves strips of gray cloth. He thought it very curious, but I could not offer it to him, as I had already presented it to another friend. As I accompanied him back across the Tailleries, we perceived a smell of coffee. "There," said he, "is a perfume, of which I am very fond. When the other lodgers in the house where I live burn their coffee, my neighbours shut their doors to keep out the smell, but I open mine." "Then you are fond of coffee," said I. "Yes," said he, "ices and coffee are almost the only luxuries for which I have a taste." I had brought with me from the isle of Bourbon a bale of coffee, and had made up several parcels for presents to my friends. The next day I sent him one of these with a billet, in which I said, that knowing his love for foreign seeds I requested his acceptance of these. He returned a very polite note, in which he thanked me for my attention. The day after I received another note, written in a different tone, of which the following is a copy. "Sir, I had company with me yesterday and was unable to examine the parcel which you sent me. We are hardly acquainted yet, and you begin by making presents. Such proceedings place us on too unequal a footing, as my fortune does not allow me to make any in return. You will therefore take back your coffee, or we never meet again. "Accept my very humble salutations J. J. ROUSSEAU." 'I wrote him in answer, that as I had obtained the coffee in the country were it grew, the quantity and quality of it were of little importance to me, but that I would leave him to make his own choice in regard to the alternative proposed. The dispute was finally accommodated upon my consenting to accept from him a root of ginseng and a work on ichthyology, which had lately been sent to him from Montpelier, and he invited me to dine with him the next day. I accordingly went to his lodgings at eleven o'clock in the morning. We conversed till half past twelve, when his wife laid the cloth. He took a bottle of wine, and putting it upon the table, asked me whether it would be enough for us, and whether I loved to drink. How many are to dine? said I. "Three," said he, "you, my wife, and I." When I dine alone, I replied, I generally drink half a bottle of wine, and when I am with my friends, a little more. "In that case," said he, "there will not be enough, and I must go down to the cellar for another bottle." His wife served two dishes, one of pastry, and the other under a cover. "There," said he, pointing to the pastry, "is your dish, and here is mine." "I am not particularly fond of pastry," said I, "but I trust you will permit me to taste of your dish." "By all means," said he, "they are both in common; but few people are fond of this. It is a Swiss dish, composed of pork, mutton, chestnuts, and vegetables stewed together." It proved to be excellent. These two dishes were succeeded by slices of beef in salad, biscuits and cheese, and finally coffee. "I do not offer you cordials," said he, "because I have none. I am like the cordelier who preached against adultery; I would rather drink a bottle of wine than a glass of cordial." |