At present, says he, it may be affirmed, that nobody knows me perfectly, any more than himself; but I shall describe myself in such plain colours, that henceforth every one may boast that he knows himself, and Jean Jacques Rousseau. I believe, that he intends seriously to draw his own picture in its true colours: but I believe, at the same time, that nobody knows himself less. For instance, even with regard to his health, a point in which few people can be mistaken, he is very fanciful. He imagines himself very infirm. He is one of the most robust men I have ever known. He passed ten hours in the night-time, above deck, during the most severe weather, when all the seamen were almost frozen to death, and he caught no harm. He says that his infirmity always increases upon a journey; yet was it almost imperceptible on the road from Paris to London.
His wearing the Armenian dress is a pure whim; which, however, he is resolved never to abandon. He has an excellent warm heart; and, in conversation, kindles often to a degree of heat which looks like inspiration. I love him much, and hope that I have some share in his affections.
I find that we shall have many ways of settling him to his satisfaction; and as he is learning the English very fast,[304:1] he will afterwards be able to choose for himself. There is a gentleman of the name of Townsend, a man of four or five thousand a-year, who lives very privately, within fifteen miles of London, and is a great admirer of our philosopher, as is also his wife. He has desired him to live with him, and offers to take any board he pleases. M. Rousseau was
much pleased with this proposal, and is inclined to accept of it. The only difficulty is, that he insists positively on his gouvernante's sitting at table,—a proposal which is not to be made to Mr. and Mrs. Townsend.
This woman forms the chief encumbrance to his settlement. M. de Luze, our companion, says, that she passes for wicked and quarrelsome, and tattling; and is thought to be the chief cause of his quitting Neufchâtel. He himself owns her to be so dull, that she never knows in what year of the Lord she is, nor in what month of the year, nor in what day of the month or week; and that she can never learn the different value of the pieces of money in any country. Yet she governs him as absolutely as a nurse does a child. In her absence his dog has acquired that ascendant. His affection for that creature is beyond all expression or conception.
I have as yet scarce seen any body except Mr. Conway and Lady Aylesbury.[305:1] Both of them told me, they would visit Jean Jacques, if I thought their company would not be disagreeable. I encouraged them to show him that mark of distinction.[305:2] Here I must also tell you of a good action which I did; not but that it is better to conceal our good
actions. But I consider not my seeking your approbation as an effect of vanity: your suffrage is to me something like the satisfaction of my own conscience. While we were at Calais, I asked him whether, in case the King of England thought proper to gratify him with a pension, he would accept of it. I told him, that the case was widely different from that of the King of Prussia; and I endeavoured to point out to him the difference, particularly in this circumstance, that a gratuity from the King of England could never in the least endanger his independence. He replied: "But would it not be using ill the King of Prussia, to whom I have since been much obliged? However, on this head (added he,) in case the offer be made me, I shall consult my father;" meaning Lord Marischal.[306:1] I told this story to General Conway, who seemed to embrace with zeal the notion of giving him a pension, as honourable both to the king and nation. I shall suggest the same idea to other men in power whom I may meet with, and I do not despair of succeeding.
P. S.—Since I wrote the above, I have received your obliging letter, directed to Calais. M. Rousseau says, the letter of the King of Prussia is a forgery; and he suspects it to come from M. de Voltaire.[306:2]
The project of Mr. Townsend, to my great mortification, has totally vanished, on account of Mademoiselle Le Vasseur. Send all his letters under my cover.[307:1]
Hume writes again on the 12th, to state that he has succeeded in obtaining the promise of a pension from the king: "You know," he says, "that our sovereign is extremely prudent and decent, and careful not to give offence. For which reason, he requires that this act of generosity may be an entire secret." He states, that this information must be kept to herself and the Prince of Conti: and she in her answer, admires Hume's generous and delicate conduct, and promises to keep the secret. In his postscript Hume announces the important fact, that Mademoiselle le Vasseur had arrived, and had found a companion to whom such a rag of celebrity was no small acquisition.