Chapter 2 Chapter 1-1

Chapter One I now have a difficult job to do that has no precedent and will never be repeated.I want to expose a person's true face to the world naked.This person is me. Only I am such a person.I know my own heart, and I know others.I was born so different from anyone I've ever met; even I'm sure there's no one born like me in the whole world.Although I am not better than others, at least I am different from them.Nature molded me, and then broke the mold. Whether the broken mold is good or not can only be judged after reading my book. No matter when the trumpet of the final judgment sounds, I dare to take this book and go before the supreme judge and say loudly: "Look! This is what I have done, this is what I have thought I was such a man then. Good and evil I wrote with equal frankness. I neither hid a single thing from the bad nor added to the good; It was just used to fill in the blanks left by my poor memory. I may have said what I thought was true, but I never insisted that what I knew was false was true. What kind of person was I at that time? I will write what kind of person I am: when I was despicable and dirty, I will write about my despicable and dirty; when I was kind, honest, and moral, I will write about my kindness, honesty, and morality. Almighty God! My heart Exactly exposed, exactly as you have seen it yourself, call the countless beings to me! Let them hear my confession, let them sigh for my depravity, let them mourn for my and be ashamed of all their vices. Then, let each one of them lay before thy throne with the same sincerity of his soul, and see if any dare say to you. 'I am better than this man!'"

I was born in Geneva in 1712, the son of Isaac Rousseau, a citizen, and Susanne Bernard, a citizen.The property left by my grandfather was originally very meager. It was divided equally among the fifteen children, and the share in my father's name was almost zero. Education is omnipotent. , the whole family relied on him as a watchmaker to make ends meet.My father was quite a hand at it.My mother was the daughter of the Reverend Bernal, from a relatively well-to-do family; she was intelligent and beautiful, and it was with great difficulty that my father was able to marry her.The love between the two of them began almost from birth: when they were eight or nine years old, they played together on the Place de la Trey every evening; by the time they were ten, they were inseparable.The two have a heart-to-heart and mutual empathy, cementing their bond that grew out of habit.Gentle and affectionate, both were waiting for an opportunity to find the same feeling in the other's heart, and it would rather be said that this opportunity was waiting for them too.Therefore, both of them tacitly agreed, and neither of them was willing to pour out their hearts first: she was waiting for him, and he was waiting for her.Fate seemed to thwart their love, but it made it more intense.This amorous young man was extremely distressed and haggard because his lover could not be found.She persuaded him to travel and forget about her.He traveled, but to no avail, and came back more passionately in love.His beloved is still so loyal and gentle.After this twists and turns, they can only love each other for life.They swore to each other, and God approved of their vow.

My uncle, Gabriel Bernard, was in love with one of my aunts, but my aunt made a condition: she would only agree to marry him if his sister would marry her own brother.As a result, love made everything possible, and two happy events were held on the same day.In this way, my uncle is also my uncle, and their children and I are double cousins.After a year, the two families each gave birth to a child, and soon they had to part with each other due to business. Uncle Bernal was an engineer: he was recruited to the Empire and Hungary to serve under Prince Eugene.He later established distinguished exploits at the Battle of Belgrade.My father was employed as a court watchmaker in Constantinople after the birth of my only brother.During my father's absence, my mother's beauty, intelligence, and talents attracted her many men who courted her.Among them, Mr. Closour, the French Minister, showed the most enthusiasm.His feelings must have been very strong at the time, because thirty years later he was still very emotional when he talked to me about my mother.But my mother's character was such that she could resist these temptations, for she loved her husband so much that she urged him to come back quickly.He hurriedly dropped everything and came back.I am the unfortunate fruit of my father's return home this time.Ten months later my frail and sickly child was born.My birth cost my mother's life, and my birth was the first of my many misfortunes.

I don't know how my father endured the grief of losing a spouse, I only know that his grief has never been relieved.He felt that he could see his wife's voice and face again in me, and at the same time he couldn't forget that I caused him to lose her.Whenever he hugged me, I always decided and created in his sigh, in his tight, convulsive embrace.Nature beyond experience is just an irrational existence, and it feels his caress mixed with a kind of bitter remorse: only in this way, his caress is more profound.Every time he said to me: "Jean-Jacques, let's talk about your mother", I said to him: "Okay, Dad, we're going to cry again".This word brought tears to his eyes.Then he choked up and said: "Oh! Give her back to me! Comfort me, let me relieve the pain of losing her! You fill the void she left in my heart! Son! If not Because you are the child of your dead mother, can I love you like this?" Forty years after my mother passed away, my father died in the arms of his second wife, but he kept calling his ex-wife's name. I keep the image of my ex-wife in my heart.

It was these two people who gave me life.Among all the virtues that God bestowed on them, they bequeathed to me only a passionate heart.However, this passionate heart, which was the source of happiness to them, was the source of misfortune in my life for me. I was born almost a dead child, and there was little hope of ever being able to support me.I still carry with me a natural disease, which has increased with age, and though it sometimes abates a little, it is only to make me suffer more cruel pains in another way.My father had a sister, a clever and kind girl, who took care of me and finally brought me back to life.As I write this she is still alive, but in her eighties, with her younger husband, who has been crippled by excessive drinking.Dear aunt, I don't blame you for saving me so that I can live. What I am sad is that you took care of me when I was young, but I can't repay you in your old age.And my dear old nurse, Jacqueline, is alive and well, in good health and in good health.The hands that opened my eyes when I was born will probably close them when I die.

I feel first and then think. This is the common destiny of mankind.But I understand this more deeply than others.I don't know what I did before I was five or six years old, and I don't know how I learned to read. I only remember the first books I read and their influence on me: That's when the acquaintance begins.My mother left some basic categories and basic principles of novelism.Emphasizing the necessity of Marxist philosophy, I read these novels with my father after dinner.At first, my father just wanted to use these interesting reading materials to ask me to practice reading, but after a while, we happily read them in turns, endlessly, often all night long.Once you get a book, you will never give up until you finish reading it in one go.Sometimes the father heard the swallows call in the morning, and said embarrassingly: "Let's go to bed; I am more childish than you."

This dangerous method soon gave me, not only an extreme adroitness of reading and comprehension, but also a knowledge of sensuality which no one at my age possessed.I don't have an idea of ​​things in themselves, but I already know all the emotions.I don't understand anything yet, but I feel it.These chaotic passions, which I felt one after another, did not in the least corrupt my reason, for I was not yet sane, but gave me a peculiar kind of reason, which gave me a grotesque and peculiar view of life. , Whether it is life experience or introspection, I have not been able to completely correct me.

By the end of the summer of 1719 we had read all those novels.It was replaced by another one in the winter.After reading my mother's collection of books, we read the books left by my grandfather to my mother.It was fortunate that there were quite a few good books in it; which was not surprising, as they belonged to a clergyman, who, according to the fashion of the time, was often a learned man, and he was a man of taste and knowledge. Talented people.Le Souer's "History of the Church and Empire", Bauchier's "General History of the World Speech", Plutarch's "Biography of Famous Men", Nani's "History of Venice", Ovid's, La Bruye My father's work, Fontenelle's "Explanation of the Universe" and "Dialogues of the Dead", as well as several works by Molière, were moved to my father's studio.I read these books to my father every day when he was working.I have a rare interest in these books, such an interest at my age, and I am afraid I am alone.Plutarch, in particular, became my favorite author, and the pleasure of reading him over and over without letting go of the book finally turned my interest in novels a little; , Brutus, and Aristides are better than Iolondas, Artemon, and Euba.Because of these interesting reading materials, and because of the conversations between me and my father aroused by these books, my thoughts of loving freedom and loving the republic were formed; the character of stubbornness and arrogance and unwillingness to be bound and enslaved was also formed; throughout my life Among them, whenever this kind of character is in a situation where it cannot be used, it makes me feel distressed.I kept thinking of Rome and Athens, and I could say that I lived with the great men of Rome and Greece.In addition, I myself was born a citizen of a republic, and my father was the person who loved the motherland the most, so I took him as an example to love the motherland.I fancied myself a Greek or a Roman, and whenever I read the biography of a hero, I became that character in the biography.When I read those images of loyalty and unyielding power that moved me deeply, my eyes sparkled and my voice was loud and powerful.One day, at dinner, when I told the story of Sivora's heroism, I put my hand on the brazier to show his actions, and everyone was terrified at that time.

I have a brother who is seven years older than me.At that time, he was learning my father's trade.Because my family loves me too much, it is a bit indifferent to him. I don't agree with this kind of favoritism.This indifference affected his upbringing.Before the age of debauchery, righteousness and idealism, dialectics and metaphysics are two philosophical pairs, yes, he really became debauched.Later, he was sent to other masters to learn art, but he still often sneaked out as if at home.I hardly see him at all.I can only pretend that I knew him: but I do like him very much, and he loves me as a naughty boy can love another.I remember one time, when my father got angry and beat him severely, I rushed between the two of them, hugged him tightly, covered him with my body, and took the beating for him.I maintain this posture.He didn't move at all, and finally, my father had to let him go; maybe it was because my crying and shouting made my father helpless, or maybe it was because I didn't want to make me suffer more than my brother.Later, my elder brother became more and more depraved, and finally ran away from home without a trace.It was some time later that I heard that he was in Germany.He never even sent home a letter.From that time on, there was no further news from him, so that I became my father's only son.

If the poor boy's upbringing had been neglected, the same was not true of his brother.Even a king's son was not so well cared for and loved by those around him as I was when I was a child; it is very rare that I am a child who has always been loved but never spoiled.Before I left the family, I was never allowed to run around alone in the street with other children, and I never suppressed or let go of my weird temper, which some people say is natural, but it is result of education.I have some of the faults that my age can have; I talk a lot, I'm a glutton, and I sometimes lie.I've stolen fruit, candy, or some other treat, but I've never done harm, destroyed things, troubled others, or abused poor little animals for fun.But I remember once urinating in a pot in the house of one of my neighbors, Mrs. Clotter, while she was in church.To tell the truth, I still find it quite amusing to think of it, for that Mrs. Clotter, though a kind woman, was the most nagging old woman I ever met in my life.Here is a short but true history of all the bad things I did in my childhood.

How could I be bad when all the people I met were good examples and the people around me were the best?My father, my aunt, my nurse, my relatives, our friends, our neighbors, in short, all those who were close to me did not obey me blindly, but loved me, and I loved me in the same way. them.My reveries were so seldom stimulated and disturbed that I felt that I had no reveries at all.I dare to swear, before I was controlled by the teacher, I never knew what fantasy is.Except for the time when I was reading and writing beside my father and when my nurse took me for a walk, I was always with my aunt. Sitting or standing beside her, watching her embroider, listening to her sing, I was very happy.My aunt is easy to talk and funny, very gentle, and has a lovely appearance, which left a deep impression on me. I can still vividly remember her expression, eyes and gestures, and the joyful words she said to me are still vivid today. Remember.I can tell the clothes she wore at that time and the style of her hair bun, and of course I can't forget the two black hair curled up on her temples, which was a popular style at that time. My taste for music, or rather my musicality, which I developed much later, must have been influenced by my aunt.She can sing countless beautiful ditties and songs, and with her clear voice, she is a research fellow of Dundon Academy and was awarded the "Meritorious Service" medal by the King of England.With sophistry, it is very beautiful to sing.The good-natured spirit of this wonderful girl dissipated the melancholy and melancholy of herself and all those around her.Her singing voice is so attractive to me, not only some of the songs she sang are still in my memory, even today when my memory has declined, some songs that I have completely forgotten when I was a child, Coming to my mind again as I got older gave me an indescribable joy.Who would have believed that an old fool like me, stricken with anxiety and pain, would sometimes find myself weeping like a child, while humming these ditties in a trembling broken voice?There is one song in particular, I can clearly remember the tune, but I can't remember the second half of the lyrics, although its rhyme is still vaguely hovering in my mind.The beginning of the song and the rest of the lines as far as I can recall are as follows: I really have no guts, Dixie! And then under the little elm tree, listen to your flute; Because in our small village, There have been whispers. ...a shepherd boy, ... with deep affection; ...without fear, There is no rose without thorns. Why do I have a lingering feeling when I recall this song?I am really puzzled by this strange taste.However, I could never sing the song to the end without being interrupted by my own tears.I have tried countless times to write to Paris and have someone try to complete the rest of the lyrics, if anyone still remembers them.But I am almost sure that if I had known with certainty that the song had been sung by anyone other than my poor Aunt Sussen, I would have lost most of my pleasure in obsessing over it. Such were my first affections when I entered the world; thus I began to form or express a soul that was at once very proud and very tender, a character that was tender and cowardly but unrestrained, a character that would never Swinging between weakness and bravery, hesitation and firmness, I was full of contradictions in myself in the end. I didn't even get temperance and enjoyment, joy and prudence. An unexpected accident interrupted this education, the consequences of which affected my later life.My father had a dispute with a French army captain named Monsieur Gautier, who was related to the Parliament.This Gauchier was so insolent and cowardly that my father had his nose bleed.In retaliation, he falsely accused my father of murdering him with a sword in the city.They wanted to send my father to prison, but, according to the law at the time, my father insisted that the plaintiff should go to prison with him; It was better to be so than to give in: he thought that if he did, he would lose his honor and his liberty. After my father left, my uncle Bernard became my guardian.My uncle was then serving in the fortifications of Geneva.His eldest daughter is dead, but he has a son who is my age.We were sent together to Boucet, to lodge with the Vicar Lamberciert, to learn Latin with him there, and by the way, to study some gibberish subjects under the name of what is called education. The two years of country life have weakened my Roman austere character and restored the childishness of my childhood.In Geneva, no one urged me, but I liked to study and read books, which was almost my only pastime; in Bosse, homework made me interested in games, which played a role in regulating work and rest.The country was such a novelty to me, and I enjoyed it tirelessly.I developed a very strong interest in it, which has never faded.In all my years thereafter, the recollection of the happy days I spent there made me nostalgic for the sojourn and pleasures of those years in the country, until I returned to it again.M. Lambercier was a very reasonable man, he never neglected our teaching, but he never gave us too much homework.He was well organized in this respect, as evidenced by two points, namely, that although I hated to be ruled by a teacher, when I look back on my school days, I never feel disgusted; Not much, but what I learned was learned with little effort, and I haven't forgotten a bit. This kind of simple rural life has brought me immeasurable benefits. My heart suddenly became clear and I understood friendship.Before that, I had only noble and fantastical feelings.Living together in quiet surroundings gradually brought me closer to my cousin Bernal.It didn't take long for me to feel more for him than I did for my brother, and the affection never went away.He was a tall, scrawny, very frail boy.He was as soft-tempered as he was weak in body, and did not take undue advantage of the favor in the family by pretending that he was my guardian's son.We both had the same lessons, games, and hobbies: we had no other friends, we were the same age, each needed a companion; to separate us would literally destroy us.Although we rarely had the opportunity to show the deep affection for each other, but this affection has reached a degree that cannot be increased.Not only can we not leave each other for a moment, but none of us even imagined that we would be separated one day.We both have the disposition to be soft-hearted at the slightest word of kindness, and as long as we are not compelled to be so obliging, we are of the same opinion about everything.If, by virtue of the partiality of our elders, my cousin seemed to be superior to me in their eyes, and I was superior to him when we were alone, we would be Evened out.When we were in class, if he couldn’t recite it, I would remind him in a low voice; after I finished the exercises, I would help him do it; during games, I was more interested than him, and I always acted as his tutor.In short, our temperaments were so congenial, and our friendship so sincere, that for more than five years we were practically inseparable, whether at Beausset or at Geneva.I admit, we fought from time to time, but we never needed reconciliation, any quarrel between us never lasted more than a quarter of an hour, and neither of us ever complained to the teacher.It may be said that these are the affairs of unremarkable children; but this may be a unique case since there have been children in the world. Bausser's way of life is very suitable for me. As long as it takes a little longer, it can completely shape my character.All tenderness, kindness, and peaceful feelings constitute the keynote of this way of life.I think there is no one in the world who is born with less vanity than I am.Although sometimes when I am impulsive, my mood will be particularly agitated, but I will immediately fall back into the original depression.It was my strongest desire at that time to let everyone close to me love me.I am soft-tempered, and so is my cousin, and so are all those who discipline us.For two full years, I have not seen anyone lose their temper roughly, nor have I been treated roughly by anyone.All of these are cultivating natural qualities in me.It gives me great pleasure to see that everyone likes me and everything.I often think of the time when I was unable to answer the catechism in the chapel, and the expression of pain and anxiety on Mademoiselle Lambercier's face particularly disturbed me.It is true that I felt ashamed and terribly uncomfortable being unable to answer in public, but this expression of Mademoiselle Lamberciert was the only thing that made me suffer more than shame.For although I have no feeling for praise, I am always very sensitive to shame, and here I can say: I am far less afraid of Mlle Lambercier's reproach than of offending her. She, however, like her brother, could be severe when necessary; but the severity was almost always justified, and never excessive, so that though it grieved me, I had no desire to rebel.I feel that it is more uncomfortable to make others unhappy than to be punished myself, and it is more embarrassing to see another person's unhappy face than to be physically punished.It is rather troublesome to try to express my feelings more clearly, but it is also necessary.If people had seen more clearly the long-term consequences of their often indiscriminate and often presumptuous way of dealing with young people, they might change it!I have drawn a great lesson from this common and unfortunate instance, and I have decided to explain it here. Mademoiselle Cubersier had not only a mother's love but also a mother's authority towards us, and she sometimes resorted to punishing our children when we should be punished.For quite some time she just threatened us with punishment.I was horrified to be threatened with this punishment, which seemed to me so new; but after she had punished; Made me more fond of Mademoiselle Lambercier, who punished me.I found that there was another kind of pleasure mixed with the pain and even the shame of being punished, so that instead of being so afraid, I hoped to taste her slender hand again; only because of my sincere feelings for her and my own. She has a kind nature, so she will not repeat the mistakes that should be punished by her again.Really, there was definitely a bit of a precocious sexual instinct in it, because the same spanking I wouldn't have enjoyed if it had come from her brother.However, according to her brother's temper, I'm not afraid of him doing something for my sister.The only reason why I restrained myself from punishment was that I was afraid of offending Mademoiselle Lambercier; such was the power exerted on me by affection, or even that which springs from sensuality, and affection Sensuality has always dominated in my heart. This mistake, which I am not afraid of repeating, but which I avoided at a distance, happened again, but it was not my fault, that is to say, I did not intend to commit it, and, so to speak, I took advantage of the opportunity with peace of mind.However, this was the second and last time, because Mademoiselle de Bercier said that she did not use this method any more, it exhausted her too much.She must have also seen in some way that this punishment was not serving her purpose.Before that, we slept in her room, and even in her bed a few times during the winter.After two days, she put us in another room to sleep.From then on, I had the honor of her treating me like a big boy, which I didn't need. Who would have thought that this kind of corporal punishment inflicted on an eight-year-old child by the hands of a young woman of thirty could go against the law of nature and determine my tastes, desires, hobbies, and even my whole being for the rest of my life? ?At the same time as my sensuality was aroused, my desires also changed, which made me only limited to the previous feelings and did not want to look for other things.Although the fire of sensuality burned in my blood almost from birth, I remained pure until the age when the calmest and most mature qualities developed.For a long time, for some reason, I often gazed at beautiful women with greedy eyes.I thought of them from time to time, but only in order to make them move one by one as I fancied, and make them all become Mademoiselle Lambercier. Even after I had reached marriageable age, this strange inclination, which was always tenacious and was on the verge of corruption, even madness, did not deprive me of my chaste habits, though it seemed long overdue.If there ever was a simple and pure education, it was that education I had.My three aunts were not only virtuous and exemplary women, but also had a kind of solemnity and elegance that ordinary women at that time did not have.My father was a jovial man, but his tastes were old-fashioned, and he never said anything that made a virgin ashamed in the presence of the women he loved; nor anywhere else have I seen anything like In our family, especially in front of me, pay attention to the respect due to children.I think M. Lambercier took the same note of this matter: there was a very kind maid who was dismissed for saying a slightly presumptuous remark in our presence.Before I was an adult, I had no clear idea of ​​the union of the sexes. Even this vague idea always appeared in my mind with an ugly and repulsive image. I have an indelible feeling for prostitutes. hate.Whenever I meet a whore, I cannot help being contemptuous, even terrified, because one day, when I was going to Little Sagonex, I passed a low-lying path, and I saw some holes in the earth on either side, and I was told , those guys were having sex in there, and since then I have hated the messy behavior so much.When I think of this kind of person, I often recall the copulation of dogs I have seen in my mind, and I feel sick when I think about it. This preconceived notion, brought about by education, was itself capable of postponing the first outbursts of that natural disposition prone to fire, and, as I said before, the avoidance which the first semblance of my sensuality aroused in me. Helps with that too.Although I am moved by the boiling blood, because my imagination is limited to my past feelings, I only know to pin my desire on the pleasure I know, and never think that people have said On that pleasure which abhors me; which is so close to my pleasure that I pay no attention to it.In my foolish reveries, in my erotic manias, and in the absurdities which these reveries and manias sometimes lead me to, I have used my imagination to appeal to the opposite sex, but except for the function which I long for Besides, it never occurred to me that the opposite sex has any other uses. Thus, I passed through the period of puberty with a very passionate, very voluptuous, and unusually precocious temperament, which I never thought about and never thought about except some sensual pleasures that Mademoiselle Lambercier accidentally made me aware of. I have never had any other sensual pleasure; even when I grow older and become a man, it is still the same thing that could have destroyed me.My old childhood appetite, far from disappearing, was linked with another one, so that I could never get rid of it from the lust aroused by the senses.This eccentricity, together with my natural shyness, made me less adventurous in the presence of women; and it turned out that I considered the other enjoyment only the end of the one I liked, and this one I liked. This kind of enjoyment, the man wants it in his heart but can't snatch it, the woman can give it but can't guess; since I dare not say anything in front of women, or can't do everything, of course I will be depressed.This is how I have lived my whole life, drooling over the woman I love most and not daring to say a word. I dare not explain my obsession to the other party, so I can only comfort myself with some relationships between men and women that remind me of this obsession.To kneel before a savage mistress, to do her bidding, and to beg her pardon, is to me sweetest enjoyment; and the more my blood boils with my quick imagination, the more like a shy lover I am.Everyone knows that this type of lovemaking does not lead to any rapid progress and is not very dangerous to the virginity of the beloved.So I actually get very little, but I still get a lot of enjoyment by using my way, that is, using my imagination.My passions, combined with my shy character and romantic disposition, thus keep my affections pure and my manners virtuous; had I been a little thick-skinned, the same propensity might have led me into the wildest lusts. In this dark and muddy labyrinth of my voluntary confession, I had at last taken my first and most difficult step.The most difficult thing to say is not the sinful thing, but the ridiculous and shameful thing.Now my heart has stabilized, and after I said what I just said boldly, I don't have any worries.From what I have confessed, it can be concluded that in my life I sometimes became excited in the presence of the women I loved madly, could not even see or hear, fell into ecstasies, and went into convulsions, but never told them My eccentricity never begged them, in the closest circumstances, for the only favor I needed.It's never happened before, except once when I was a kid with a girl my age, but she brought it up first. Going thus back to the first episodes of my emotional life, I find elements which at times seem to be quite contradictory, but which combine powerfully to produce one and the same simple effect; These circumstances lead to such different coincidences that it is impossible to imagine any relationship between them in the first place.Who can believe, for example, that one of the strongest forces in my soul is drawn from the same fountain of my blood, which has both elements of weakness and lust?The following things do not depart from the theme I just said, but people can get quite different impressions from them. One day I was reading alone in a room next to the kitchen.The maid dried Mademoiselle Lambercier's combs on a gravel board.When she came to pick it up, she found that one side of the comb was broken.Who broke it?No one else has been in this room except me.When they questioned me, I denied having touched the comb.朗拜尔西埃先生和朗拜尔西埃小姐一起来训诫我，逼问我，甚至还恫吓我，我始终坚决否认，然而，我的一切抗议都没有用，他们认定是我弄坏的，尽管人们从来没见过我如此大胆说谎。他们把这件事看得很严重，事实上也应该这样看。毁坏东西、说谎、硬不认错，似乎都应该受罚。可是这回却不是朝拜尔西埃小姐动手来惩罚我。他们给我舅父贝纳尔写了信，舅父来了。我那可怜的表兄也被加上另一种同样严重的罪名，我们两个人要受到同样的惩处。这次由我舅父动手的处罚可真厉害。为了以毒攻毒，彻底矫正我那败坏了的欲望，这可能是不能再好的方法了。所以，此后在很长一个时期内这些欲望没有再来干扰我。 他们没能从我口中得出他们所希望的口供，以后又逼问了好几次，弄得我狼狈不堪，但我毫不动摇，我宁可死，并且决心去死。结果，暴力面对一个孩子的“魔鬼般的倔强”（他们对我的不屈不挠找不出别的字眼来形容）让步了。我从这次残酷的遭遇逃脱出来以后，已被折磨得不象人样了，然而，我胜利了。 这件事差不多已经有五十年了，今天我不必再担心为这一事件而受惩罚了。那么，让我在上帝的面前声明：我在这件事上是无罪的，我既没弄坏那把拢子，也没有动过它，我不但没挨近那块砂石板，甚至连想都没有想过。大家不必问我这件东西到底是怎么弄坏的；我不知道，而且我也想不出道理来。我所确实知道的，就是我在这件事上是无罪的。 人们可以设想，一个儿童在平常生活里性情腼腆温顺，但在激情奋发的时候却是那样激烈、高傲而不可驯服。他一向听从理智的支配，日常所受到的都是温柔、公正、亲切的待遇。在他心里连不公正这个观念都没有，可是现在恰恰受到了他所最爱和最尊敬的人们方面的第一次不公正的磨难。当时，他的思想该是多么混乱！他的感情该是多么复杂！在他的心里，在他的脑海中，在他那整个小小生灵的精神和理智里又该是多么天翻地覆的变化！我所以要请读者们，如果可能的话，自己想象一下这种情况，是因为我那时是怎样一种心情，我自己也无力分析清楚和详细叙述出来。 那时我还没有足够的能力去理解表面的情况如何使我脱不开罪责，我也不会设身处地替别人想一想。我只能从我本身着想，我感觉到的只是：因为一个并不是我犯的过错，竟给我如此严厉的惩罚，实在太残酷了。肉体上的痛楚虽然剧烈，我并不觉得怎么样，我所感觉到的只有气愤、激怒和失望。我表兄的情况也跟我差不多，人们把一件无心的过错当作蓄意已久的行为来处罚他，因此也跟我一样怒不可遏，可以说，他跟我采取了一致行动。我们俩倒在一张床上，激动得不住颤抖，互相拥抱在一起，甚至喘不过气来。等到我们幼小的心灵稍稍平静了些，能够发泄我们的愤怒的时候，我们就起来直挺挺坐在床上，两个人一起用尽全身的力气，不停地喊：刽子手！刽子手！刽子手！ 我写这件事的时候，还觉得脉搏怦怦跳动；即使我活到十万岁，这些情景也一直历历在目。这是我有生以来第一次对不公正和暴力的感受，它深深地铭刻在我的心上，以致一切和这种感受有关的观念都会使我的心情又象最初那样激愤起来；这种感受，一开始是由我自己身上而起的，以后它变得非常坚强并且完全摆脱了个人的利害关系，无论不公正行为的受害者是谁，也无论它是什么地方发生的，只要我看见或听到，便立刻怒发冲冠，有如身受。每当我在书中读到凶恶暴君的残忍，或是邪恶僧侣的阴谋诡计的时候，真有心不惜万死去把这些无耻之徒宰掉。有时我看到一只公鸡、一头母个、一只狗或是其他畜生侵害别的畜生，我往往会跑得满身大汗去追它，或用石块去砍它，唯一的理由就是因为它恃强凌弱。这种感情可能是我的天性，我也相信一定是生来就有的；但是，我第一次所遭受的不公正的沉痛回忆和我的天性密切融合得太久，因而这种天性更加增强了。 我那欢畅的童年生活就这样结束了。从那以后我再也享受不到纯洁的幸福了。就是在今天，我仍觉得我所回忆的幸福童年也就到这里为止。我们以后还在包塞住了几个月。在这期间，我们在那里，就好象人们所描述的亚当的情况那样，虽然还在地上乐园，但已不能再享受其中之乐：表面的环境虽然没有变，生活实际完全不同了。学生对于他们的教导者再也没有那种热爱、尊敬、亲密和信赖的关系了，我们再不把他们看做洞悉我们心灵深处的神灵了！我们做了坏事不象从前那样感到羞愧，而是比以前更加害怕被人告发：我们开始隐瞒、反驳、说谎。我们那个年龄所能有的种种邪恶，腐蚀了我们的天真，丑化了我们的游戏。田园生活在我们眼中也失去了那种令人感到惬意的宁静和淳朴，好象变得荒凉阴郁了；又象盖上了一层黑幕，使我们看不到它的优美。小花园也辍了耕，我们不再去莳花锄草。我们不再轻轻地去把地上的土掀开，发现我们撒下的种于发了芽也不再欢呼了。我们讨厌了这种生活，人家也讨厌了我们。舅父把我们接回去，我们就跟朗拜尔西埃先生和朗拜尔西埃小姐分了手，彼此都觉得腻烦，没有什么惜别之感。 我离开包塞以后，将近三十年的时间从没有一次愉快地想过在那里的光景，只觉得那里没有什么值得念念不忘的。但是当我盛年即逝，行将进入老年的时候，别的回忆逐渐消失，而这些回忆却重新浮起，深深地刻在我的脑际，而且越来越显得美妙和有力。我好象由于感到生命即将逝去而设法把它抓回来，再从头开始。那个时期的一点小事都使我喜悦，其所以如此，只是因为它是那个时候的事情。时间、地点和人物的情况，我都回忆起来了：女仆或男仆在屋子里忙着；一只燕子从窗户飞进屋来；我背诵的时候有一只苍蝇落在我的手上；种种情景历历在目。我清楚地记得我们住过的那个房间的一切布置；右边是朗拜尔西埃先生的书房，墙上挂着一张历代教皇的版画、一只晴雨表和一个大型日历。这所房子后面，是一座花园，地势很高，那里有许多覆盆子树，不仅树荫遮住了窗子，甚至有时树枝一直钻到窗户里面来。我很知道读者并不大需要知道这些，但是我需要把这些告诉读者。所有在这幸福岁月里的一些轶事，现在想起来还使我喜欢得跳跃起来，我有什么不敢向读者说的呢！特别有五、六件轶事应该讲一讲。让我们打个折扣吧。我给你删去五件，只谈一件；不过这一件，请允许我尽量把它述说得长一些，好让我延长一下我的快乐。 假如我只是讨你们高兴，我一定会选择朗拜尔西埃小姐露出屁股的故事，她不幸在草地边缘上跌了一跤，正好撒丁王从那里经过，把她整个屁股都看见了。但是土台上的胡桃树的轶事我更觉得有趣，因为我是这个铁事的演员；而在她跌跤的轶事中我不过是个观客；我承认，尽管那件事的本身很可笑，可是那时我还把她当做母亲看待，甚至比对母亲还爱，那件事只有使我惊慌，并不感到有什么可笑的地方。 啊，读者们，你们是想知道那土台上胡桃树的伟大历史的，就请你们听听它那惊人的悲剧吧，如果可能的话，请不要颤抖！ 院门外边，进口处左侧有一片土台，下午大家常到那里去闲坐，但那里一点荫凉也没有。为了使它能有点荫凉，朗拜尔西埃先生叫人在那里栽了一棵胡桃树。栽这棵树时仪式相当隆重，我们两个寄宿生作了这棵树的教父。人们往坑里填土的时候，我们每人用一只手扶着树，唱着凯歌。为了便于浇水，在树根周围还砌了个池子。我和我的表兄每天都兴致勃勃地看着人们浇水，我们天真地确信：在这土台上栽一棵树比在敌人堡垒的墙孔上插一面旗帜还要伟大；因此我们俩决心取得这种光荣，而不让任何人分享。 为此，我们砍来一根嫩柳树枝子，也把它栽在土台上，离那棵雄伟的胡桃树大约有十来呎。我们也没忘了在我们那棵小树根下围起一个池子。困难的是没有水往里浇，因为水源离得相当远，人家又不许我们跑去提水。但是我们的柳树非浇水不可，因此，那几天我们想出种种诡计来给它浇水，成绩果然不坏，我们亲眼看到它发了芽，长出嫩叶来。我们不时地量一量叶子长了多大。尽管全树不过一呎高，但我们确信它不久便会给我们荫凉的。 这棵小树占据了我们的整个心灵，弄得我们干什么也不能专心，一点书也念不下去，我们简直就象发了疯。人们不了解我们在跟谁斗气，只好对我们管束得比以前更严了。我们到了真正缺水浇的严重时刻了，眼看着小树要干死，心里实在难受。可是急中生智，我们想出了一个窍门，能保证小树和我们免于一死，那就是在地底下掘一个小暗沟，把浇胡桃树的水给小柳树暗暗引过来一部分。我们积极地执行了这项措施，但是起初并未成功。我们把那个沟的斜坡做得太不合适，水根本不流，土往下坍，把小沟给堵死了，入口处又塞满了一些脏东西，一切都不顺利。但是我们并不灰心：“Omniavincitlaborimprobus”。我们又把小沟和小柳树根下的池子挖深了一些，让水容易流过来。我们把小箱子的底劈成小窄木板，先用一些一条接着一条地平铺在沟里，然后又用一些斜放在沟的两侧，作成了一个三角形的水道。在入口处插上一排细木棍，棍与棍之间留有空隙，好象一种铁蓖子或澡盆里的放水孔，可以挡住泥沙石块，而又能使水流得通畅。我们非常仔细地把这项工程用土盖好，并且把土踩平。全部完工的那一天，我们怀着希望和恐惧交织在一起的紧张心情等待着浇水时刻的到来。好象等了有几世纪之久，这个时刻终于来到了。朗拜尔西埃先生跟往常一样，来参加这项工作；在浇水的时候，我们俩老站在他身后，以便掩护那棵小柳树；最侥幸的是，他始终是背对着树，没有转过身来。 头一桶水刚刚浇完，我们就看见水流到我们树的池子里。看到这种情景，我们忘掉了谨慎，不由得欢呼起来，朗拜尔西埃先生因此回过头来，这一下可糟糕了！他刚才看到胡桃树底下的泥土大量吸收水分，认为是土质好，心里非常快活；此时，他忽然发觉水分到两个池子里去了，不禁吃了一惊，也大叫起来。他仔细一瞧，看破了诡计，立刻叫人拿来一把大镐，一镐下去，我们的木板就飞起了两三片，他大声喊道：“一条地下水道！一条地下水道！”他毫不留情地把各处都给刨了，每刨一下子都刨到我们的心上。一刹那间，木板、水沟、池子、小柳树，全都完了，全都被刨得稀烂。在这一段可怕的破坏工作中，他什么话也没说，只是不停地叫着“地下水道”。他一面喊着：“地下水道！地下水道！”一面破坏着一切。 有人也许会想，这件事情必然会给小建筑师们带来不幸，但他想错了，全部事件到此为止。朗拜尔西埃先生并没有说一句责备我们的话，也没有给我们脸色看，也再没跟我们提这件事；甚至过了一会儿，我们还听见他在他妹妹跟前哈哈大笑，他的笑声老远就能听得见。更怪的是，我们除了起初有点惊慌，也没有觉得太难过。我们在别处又栽了一棵树，我们也常常提起第一棵树的悲剧，一提起来我们俩就象背诵文章似地叫道：“一条下水道！一条下水道！”在此以前，当我以阿里斯提德或布鲁图斯自居的时候，曾不时出现过那么一种骄傲感。这是我的虚荣心第一次明显的表现。我觉得我们能够亲手筑成一条地下水道，栽一棵小柳枝来和大树竞赛，真是至高无上的光荣，我十岁时对事物的看法比凯撒在三十岁时还要高明。