“Yes, I do,” returned the other, “for independence is my idol—liberty my goddess. But I want the mild and radiant liberty which warms and vivifies. The equality which brings men together by friendship, not fear. I wish the education and instruction of each element of the social body, as the joiner wishes neat joints and the mechanician harmony. I retract what I have written—progress, concord and devotion!”
“Rivers of milk and honey—the dreams of the poets which philosophers want to realise.”
Rousseau replied no more, it was so odd for him to be accused of moderation when all Europe called him an extreme innovator. He sat down in silence after having sought for the approval of the person who had defended him.
“You have heard?” asked the chairman, rising. “Is the brother worthy to enter the society? does he comprehend his duties?”
“Yes,” replied the gathering, but the one of reservation showed no unanimity.
“Take the oath,” said the presiding officer.
“It will be disagreeable to me to displease some of the members,” said the philosopher with pride, “but I think that I shall do more for the world and for you, brothers, apart from you, in my own isolation. Leave me then to my labors. I am not shaped to march with others whom I shun; yet I serve them, because I am one of you, and I try to believe you are better than you are. Now, you have my entire mind.”
“He won’t take the oath!” exclaimed Marat.
“I refuse positively. I do not wish to belong to the society. Too many proofs come up that I shall be useless to it.”