It fills the soul with bitterness to think that this admirable work, whence generations of men derive wisdom and happiness, was the origin of violent persecution against the author; and, by expelling him from his home, and exposing him bare to the assaults of his enemies, drove him into a state of mind allied to madness, and devoted him to poverty and sorrow to the end of his life.
The printing and publishing of the work had been greatly assisted, not only by the duke and duchess de Luxembourg, but by M. de Malesherbes, a man of known probity and kindness of disposition. Rousseau had a quality, belonging to the warm of heart, and unknown to the cold and dull,—that of desiring to confide in, and to be fully known to, those whom he respected and loved. The benevolent attentions of M. de Malesherbes, even to the whims and groundless suspicions of a man who, from his state of health, believed himself to be dying, and feared to leave his unpublished works in the hands of enemies, evinced that warmth and truth of sympathy which is the golden treasure of human nature, wherever it be found. Won by his benevolence, Rousseau addressed four letters to him, explaining and describing his opinions, motives, and conduct. These letters are, as it were, an introduction to the "Confessions." They are written with the same persuasive eloquence, and passionate love for the good and beautiful, that reigns in the last parts of the "Nouvelle Heloïse," and forms their charm.
He had been ill during the publication of the "Emile," and rendered vehemently anxious by delays of the press. At length the book appeared;—but it bore a stamp to intimidate his admirers and silence their public applause; and it was therefore received more silently than any other of his works. The Confession of the Vicar of Savoy is a declaration of pure deism; and, in particular, is levelled against various pernicious errors of Catholicism. The great foundation stone of papacy is auricular confession, which enables the clergy to put all sins against the ordinances of the church in the first class; and to look on falsehood, treachery, and intolerance, as virtues, when exercised for its sake. The Confession allies religion and morals—makes the Gospel a rule of conduct; and, though it doubts the mysteries of the Christian faith, it speaks of them with reverence, but in a protestant spirit, totally at variance with Catholicism. This portion of his book excited remark, and exposed the author to the persecutions of the French priesthood.
But Rousseau felt perfectly secure. There was nothing said in the Confession of the Vicar of Savoy that had not appeared before in the last part of the "Nouvelle Heloïse." He had himself, notwithstanding these considerations, been exceedingly averse to publishing his work in France: the method then, with any book bringing forward forbidden opinions, being to publish it at Brussels, which sheltered the author from the French laws. But the duchess of Luxembourg and M. de Malesherbes persuaded him to let them undertake an edition in France; and it was brought out at their instigation, against his own conviction: they, therefore, were responsible for his security; and he did not entertain the slightest doubt but that they would provide against his incurring any evil consequences.
It was as the shock of an earthquake, therefore, when, a few days after the publication of the "Emile," he was disturbed in the middle of the night by a message from the duchess of Luxembourg, saying that a decree of arrest of his person would be executed on the following morning, at seven o'clock, if he remained, but that, if he fled, he would not be pursued; and begging him to come to her immediately. It was greatly to the interest of the duchess to get Rousseau away, that the whole affair might be hushed up; since any examinations would betray her connivance in the publication. Rousseau was aware of this. June.
15.
1762.
Ætat.
50. He saw the duchess agitated;—he felt that, however much he might wish to shield her during his examination, any mistake on his part might compromise her; and he knew his habitual want of presence of mind. He consented at once to fly—he was not allowed to deliberate; the morning was given to preparations and adieus; at four o'clock in the afternoon he departed. His friends were safe—he alone the sufferer.
His first idea was to establish himself in his native town; but this plan was speedily deranged. Nine days after the decree of the parliament of Paris, the council of Geneva, instigated by the French government, sentenced the "Emile" to be burnt, and its author to be imprisoned if he entered their territory. Rousseau might well feel disdain and indignation for the folly and intolerance of his country-people; nor was it in human nature for his heart not to ferment with resentment and scorn at the universal attack levelled against him from all sects, all parties, all countries, on account of a book whose chief pretension was to bear the stamp of impartial truth, and to become (and he succeeded in his attempt) highly beneficial to the human race. Its fault is that it is anti-christian; but the most devout follower of our Saviour, if charitable, must be impressed by the sincerity of the author, and respect the love of truth that dictated his declarations.
Rousseau had arrived at Iverdun, in the canton of Berne. Exiled from Geneva, he resolved to remain there. He had friends; and a house was offered him, which he had accepted—when he heard that the council of Berne had sent an order desiring him to quit their state. Thus persecuted, he had but one resource. Neufchâtel and its territory belongs to the kingdom of Prussia: he believed that he should find toleration at the hands of Frederic the Great.
He found far more in the governor of Neufchâtel—marshal lord Keith, a man eminent for his virtue. Marshal Keith had entertained many false notions with regard to Rousseau; but he was filled with sentiments of benevolence towards him; and the king of Prussia, influenced by him, was desirous of rendering his residence in his stated agreeable. Rousseau refused the offers of a house, and of supplies of wood, corn, wine, &c., which were offered him in lieu of money, as likely to be more readily accepted; indeed, in his "Confessions," he speaks with contempt of these offers, as coming from Frederic: but he acquired the friendship—the affection—of the amiable and benevolent lord Keith; and found in it, while it was spared to him, the consolation of his life.
He took up his residence in the village of Motiers, in the Val-de-Travers, in the comté of Neufchâtel. If we read the correspondence of Voltaire, and other writings of his enemies, we should believe that he lived in a state of habitual warfare;—that his soul, ever in tumults, continually exhaled itself in vituperation and philippics; that he was perpetually engaged in underhand cabals and petty manœuvres. Rousseau disdained to be of any party. He admired Voltaire, as a man of vast genius—but refused to bow before the literary throne on which he had seated himself. This was his crime; and his punishment was the insolent sarcasms and brutal railleries of the great master of wit.
We may turn in all security from such false pictures to the reality, depicted not only in his "Confessions," in his letters, and in his "Promenades d'un Solitaire"—these, as written by himself, might be open to suspicion—but to accounts afforded by impartial persons. Among these, the comte d'Escherney gives an interesting narration of his intercourse. A little distrust was shown on one occasion by the persecuted philosopher, but their friendship, except on this one occasion, was unclouded. The comte habitually dined with Rousseau: he praises his simple table, and the excellent cooking of Thérèse; whom, at the same time, he blames severely for the mischief she did by her unbridled and malicious tongue,—exciting against herself, and consequently against Rousseau, a spirit of dislike in the neighbourhood. He felt this—and at one time wished to remove; but did not put his desire in execution. While at Motiers he addicted himself sedulously to botany. In his herborising expeditions, he was accompanied by M. du Peyrou, an American settled at Bié—an excellent and respectable man, who became his fast friend; by the colonel De Puri, father-in-law of M. du Peyrou—both good botanists; and by the comte—who was obliged to learn the science, not to be thrown out entirely in conversation. Some of these expeditions were extensive; and the comte, after the lapse of years, speaks of them with pleasure, and dwells on the charm thrown over them by the conversation, the genius, the kind heart of Rousseau. The latter had many other friends in the neighbourhood, whom he tenderly loved. He remained at Motiers-Travers three years: he might have spent his life there, honoured, happy, and independent. When we relate the circumstances that drove him from it, we leave to impartial judges to decide whether he were in fault or his persecutors—who, for the most part, soi-disant philosophers and free thinkers, excited the spirit of bigotry against him, and did not hesitate hypocritically to assume the language of religion to destroy him.