THE CONFESSIONS OF JEAN-JACQUES ROUSSEAU

by Jean-Jacques Rousseau

translated by W. Conyngham Mallory

BOOK I [1712-1728]

I HAVE begun on a work which is without precedent, whose

accomplishment will have no imitator. I propose to set before my

fellow-mortals a man in all the truth of nature; and this man shall be

myself.

I have studied mankind and know my heart; I am not made like any one

I have been acquainted with, perhaps like no one in existence; if

not better, I at least claim originality, and whether Nature has acted

rightly or wrongly in destroying the mold in which she cast me, can

only be decided after I have been read.

I will present myself, whenever the last trumpet shall sound, before

the Sovereign Judge with this book in my hand, and loudly proclaim,

"Thus have I acted; these were my thoughts; such was I. With equal

freedom and veracity have I related what was laudable or wicked, I

have concealed no crimes, added no virtues; and if I have sometimes

introduced superfluous ornament, it was merely to occupy a void

occasioned by defect of memory: I may have supposed that certain,

which I only knew to be probable, but have never asserted as truth,

a conscious falsehood. Such as I was, I have declared myself;

sometimes vile and despicable, at others, virtuous, generous, and

sublime; even as Thou hast read my inmost soul: Power Eternal!

assemble round Thy throne an innumerable throng of my

fellow-mortals, let them listen to my confessions, let them blush at

my depravity, let them tremble at my sufferings; let each in his

turn expose with equal sincerity the failings, the wanderings of his

heart, and if he dare, aver, I was better than that man."

I was born at Geneva, in 1712, son of Isaac Rousseau and Susannah

Bernard, citizens. My father's share of a moderate competency, which

was divided among fifteen children, being very trivial, his business

of a watchmaker (in which he had the reputation of great ingenuity)

was his only dependence. My mother's circumstances were more affluent;

she was daughter of a Mons. Bernard, minister, and possessed a

considerable share of modesty and beauty; indeed, my father found some

difficulty in obtaining her hand.

The affection they entertained for each other was almost as early as

their existence; at eight or nine years old they walked together every

evening on the banks of the Treille, and before they were ten, could

not support the idea of separation. A natural sympathy of soul

confined those sentiments of predilection which habit at first

produced; born with minds susceptible of the most exquisite

sensibility and tenderness, it was only necessary to encounter similar

dispositions; that moment fortunately presented itself, and each

surrendered a willing heart.

The obstacles that opposed served only to give a degree of

vivacity to their affection, and the young lover, not being able to

obtain his mistress, was overwhelmed with sorrow and despair. She

advised him to travel- to forget her. He consented- he traveled but

returned more passionate than ever, and had the happiness to find

her equally constant, equally tender. After this proof of mutual

affection, what could they resolve?- to dedicate their future lives to

love! the resolution was ratified with a vow, on which Heaven shed its

benediction.