Chapter 14 Chapter 7-1

Chapter VII Intuse tincute After two years of silence and patience, I have now taken up my pen, despite my repeated resolutions not to write any more.Reader, please refrain from commenting on my reasons for being compelled to write again: you can judge only after you have read the book. It has been seen that my quiet youth passed away in an even and rather luscious life, without great misfortune or great fortune.Much of this mediocrity is due to my fervent but weak nature, which is hard to cheer up but easily discouraged; and reverted to the original state; it always drew me back to that idle and quiet life which I thought I was born to love, farther from the great virtues, and farther from the great vices, so that it never allowed me to have What great deeds, whether in good or evil.

What a different picture I am about to present!The natural inclination of fortune, which had been in my favor during the first thirty years, was constantly rebelled during the last thirty; Some unheard of misfortunes, and all the virtues that bring honor to adversity, have only produced no strength of character in me. The first part of this book was written entirely from memory, and must have contained many errors.The second part still has to be written from memory, and there are likely to be more mistakes in it.Those good years in the first half of my life were spent in a peaceful and pure environment, and those sweet memories left me with thousands of delicious impressions, which I am happy to keep recalling.How different my recollections of the latter half of my life are, one can see below.To relive these memories is to relive their bitterness.Reluctant to add to the bitterness of my present situation by these dismal recollections, I have avoided them as best I could; and I have often been so successful in doing so, that when I need to recount them, some of them are no longer recalled. .This kind of forgetfulness of pain is just a kind of comfort that God arranged for me in my ill-fated fate.My memory, which recalls past pleasures, has a kind of counterbalancing effect on my imagination, which, with its terrified imagination, enables me to foresee only the dire future.

In order to make up for my lack of memory and to make me follow through in this work, I also collected some materials, but these materials have now fallen into the hands of others and cannot be recovered.I have only one guide that remains true, and that is the chain of affections which marks the development of my life, and therefore the chain of events through which I have lived, since events are the antecedents or consequences of those affections.I can easily forget my misfortunes, but not my faults, still less my good feelings.Memories of these faults and affections are too precious to me to ever fade from my heart.I may well have missed some facts, some things have been conflated, some dates have been outdated; but I will not remember what I felt, nor what my feelings drove me to do. Wrong; and that is mainly what I want to write.My original purpose is to correctly reflect the various situations in my life and my inner state at that time.It is the history of my heart which I promise the reader, and in order to write this history faithfully I need no other record than to appeal to my heart, as I have hitherto done.

However, by a stroke of luck, for a period of six or seven years, I have retained something reliable about it in a copy of a letter, the originals of which are now in the possession of M. Perroud.This manuscript ends in 176, and includes the whole period during which I lived in the Hermitage, and quarreled with my so-called friends: this was the unforgettable period of my life, and the source of all my other misfortunes.As for the originals of the more recent letters, I am afraid that there are not many left on hand, and I do not want to continue to copy them in that manuscript-it is too heavy to be expected to escape my "Argos". Afterwards, when I feel that these original documents can explain something, no matter whether it is beneficial to me or not, I will transcribe it in this book.I am not afraid that the reader will forget that I am writing a confession, and think that I am writing a defense; but neither should the reader expect me to discredit the truth when it speaks for me.

Moreover, this second book has only this consistent truth in common with the first, and it is superior to the first only because of the greater importance of the facts it narrates.Otherwise, it falls short of the first in every way.My first book was written in Wutong or Turley Castle. At that time, I was in a good mood, self-satisfied, and free. All the past events I wanted to recall were all new pleasures.I keep coming back to them with new joy, and at the same time I am free to revise and revise until I am satisfied.Today my memory and brain power are failing.I can hardly do any work; I am writing this second volume, just trying to do it, with a lot of pain in my heart.All it showed me was catastrophe and treachery, and all the painful past.I would like to bury everything I have to say in the eternal night; and I can't not say it, I can't hide it, play tricks, cover, and do what I was never born to do.The roof above my head has eyes, and the walls around me have ears: I am surrounded by many malicious and intent spies and watchers, restless and in a trance, rushing out a few words that come to mind Written on paper, there is almost no time to reread it, let alone revise it.I know that although people continue to erect endless barriers around me, they are still afraid of the truth coming through the cracks in the walls.How can I call it out?I'm trying, with little hope of success.Readers, please think about it, in such an environment, whether it is possible to write moving pictures with fascinating colors.I therefore presuppose to those who wish to read this volume of mine that nothing will keep them from being bored as they read on, unless they wish to know a man thoroughly, and sincerely love justice , Love the truth.

At the end of my first book, I was heading for Paris with regret, leaving my heart in Charmett.I am building my last castle in the air in Chalmette, planning that someday my mother will change her mind and I will bring back my accumulated wealth to her knees, and I think my notation is a safe source of wealth. . I stopped at Lyon for a while, to see friends, to find some letters of introduction to Paris, and to sell the few geometry books I had with me.Everyone welcomes me.Mr. and Mrs. Mably were glad to see me, and treated me to dinner several times.It was in their house that I made the acquaintance of the Abbe Mabry, where I had also known the Abbe de Condillac before.They all came to visit their elder brother.Father Mabley wrote me several letters of introduction to Paris, one to Fontenelle, the other to the Count of Cairus.These two people got along very well with me, especially Fontenelle, who has always had a deep friendship with me, and he has given me a lot of advice in the heart of the conversation. Listen well.

I met Mr. Boulder again.I have known him for a long time, and he has always helped me with sincerity and sincerity.This time he was as enthusiastic as ever.It was he who helped sell some of my books, and wrote me some good letters of introduction to Paris, either by himself or through someone else.I met Mr. Prefect again, who was introduced to me by Mr. Boulder, and this time I got to know Duke Richelieu through him.The duke was passing through Lyon at that time, and M. Barru introduced me to him.He received me very well, and asked me to see him when I arrived in Paris; I did visit him several times afterwards, but my acquaintance with such a great person--of which I shall often speak later--was Never got any help.

I also met the musician David, who had rescued me on one of my previous trips.He lent or gifted me a cap and some pairs of socks, which I never returned to him, and who never claimed from me, though we saw each other often afterwards.However, I also gave him a gift later, which was about the same value.If I were to talk about what I should be doing, I could talk about myself better, but now I'm talking about what I actually do, which, unfortunately, is a different matter. I saw the noble and generous Perichon again, and this time he made me feel his usual generosity, because he gave me the same gift as he gave to the kind Bernard: he Paid the stagecoach fare for me.I also met the surgeon Barisot, who was the first kind and generous man in the world; I also met his beloved Godefroy, who he had supported for ten years.There was little in this Godefroy but tenderness of temper and goodness of heart, but no one could see her without pity and leave her without pity; and as she was at the end of consumption, He died shortly thereafter.The character of the object of a man's love is the best indication of his true nature.You only had to see the gentle Godefroy to know who the good Barisot was.

I am grateful for these kind people.However, I have since distanced myself from both of them, not from ungratefulness, of course, but from my insurmountable indolence which often makes me seem ungrateful.I have not forgotten their great friendship for a day, but it is much more difficult for me to continue to express my gratitude to them than to repay them with actions.Writing letters on time was always out of my power; when I first neglected to hear, I felt ashamed, not knowing how to make amends, and this shame and embarrassment aggravated my fault in turn, and I stopped writing altogether. up.So I kept silent, as if I had forgotten all about my friends.Barisot and Périgon hardly minded, I found them always warm-hearted; but one will see in Mr. Boulder twenty years later, the pride of a wit when he thinks he is alienated. What kind of revenge will be aroused.

Before leaving Lyons, I should not forget a lovely person.I was so glad to see her again, and she has such a sweet memory in my heart.This person was Miss Sell, whom I mentioned in the first book, and whom I met again when I was staying at Mr. Mably's.My trip this time was relatively leisurely, so I met her more often.I had developed a strong affection for her, and I had reason to believe that her heart was not contrary to mine, but she had such confidence in me that I could not even think of abusing it.She had no means, and neither did I; our circumstances were too much alike to allow us to be united, and I had other intentions than marriage at all.She told me of a young merchant, M. Geneve, who seemed eager to win her love.I saw him once or twice at her house, and I thought he seemed a decent fellow, and everybody said he was a decent fellow.I firmly believe that her union with him will be very happy, so I very much hope that he can marry her.Then he did marry her.In order not to disturb their pure love, I hastened to leave, and I sincerely wished the happiness of this lovely person.It's a pity that my wish only came true for a short period of time in the world. I later heard that she died after only two or three years of marriage.I missed her all the way through the journey, and I felt then, and I always feel when I think of her afterwards, that the sacrifice of duty and morality is painful, but the sweet memory that this sacrifice leaves in the depths of my heart is the compensation. is more than enough.

Just as I saw Paris from its unfavorable side on the last trip, so I will see it from its splendor on this trip.The splendor, however, does not refer to my lodgings; at an address given to me by M. Boulder, I took up residence at the Hotel Saint-Quentin, in the Rue Cortier, not far from Sorbonne.Terrible street, lousy hotel, lousy room.However, many eminent persons lived in this hotel, such as Greser, Boulder, the two priests Mabley and Condillac, and others, but unfortunately I did not meet any one at that time.But there I met Monsieur Bonnefon, a gentleman with broken feet, litigious, and elegant.Thanks to him, I met my oldest friend, Mr. Rogan.I also met the philosopher Diderot through M. Rogan.I have much more to say about Diderot below. I came to Paris in the autumn of 1741 with fifteen louis d'or in cash, my comedy of Narcissus, and my plans for musical reform, which constituted all my capital.Therefore, I don't have much time to waste, and I am eager to find a way with my own manuscripts.I hastened to take advantage of the many letters of introduction I had brought.When a young man arrives in Paris, he has a fair face and some talent, and he is always sure to be received.I was received.This reception gave me much pleasure, but little benefit.Of the many persons introduced to me, only three were of any use to me, one was Monsieur Damesin, a nobleman of Savoy, who was then court squire, and who, I believe, was also the favorite of the Princess Carlinian; One is Mr. Botts.He was Secretary of the Institute of Inscriptions, Keeper of Medals in the King's Office; and Father Castel, Jesuit, inventor of the harpsichord.Except for Mr. Chen Damesang, the other two were introduced to me by Father Mabry. In order to satisfy my urgent request, M. Damesin introduced me to two more people: one was M. Gaske, the president of the Bordeaux Chamber, and he played the violin well; , was a lovely young nobleman, who died in his prime after having made a splash in society as the Knight of Roon.Both of them are whimsical and want to learn to compose.I taught them for several months, replenishing my almost depleted travel bag a little.Father Léon made friends with me and wanted to hire me as his secretary, but he was not rich and could only offer me eight hundred francs, which I regretfully refused, as it was not enough to support me. Mr. Botts received me very well.He loves learning and is knowledgeable, but he is a bit pedantic.Mrs. Botts could have been his daughter, she was beautiful and affected.I sometimes eat at their house.In front of her, I looked very awkward.Her casual behavior aggravated my shyness, making her every move extraordinarily ridiculous.When she brought the dish to me, I always held out a fork and unassumingly forked a small piece of the lai , always turned away, lest I see her smile.It didn't occur to her that my country bumpkin's head wasn't empty either.Mr. Botts introduced me to his friend Mr. Leomier, who came to his house for dinner every Friday on the day of the Academy's general meeting.He talked to him about my plan and explained that I intended to submit it to the Academy for review.Monsieur Réomier consented, and submitted my proposal to the Academy, which accepted it.On the appointed day, I was introduced to the Academy by Monsieur Réomier, who made an introduction.On the same day, August 22, 1742, I had the honor of reading at the Academy the thesis which I had long prepared for this purpose.I did not feel quite as shy as I had been with Mrs. Botts, and my reading and defense were not too badly handled, notwithstanding the true solemnity of this prestigious institution.My dissertation was successful and received many eulogies which both surprised and delighted me, because I could hardly imagine that in the minds of these academicians anyone who was not a member of the academy could have common sense.The commissioners appointed to examine my proposal were Messrs. Messrs. Messrs. Messrs. Heylot and Fouchy.They were all brilliant men, of course, but none of them understood music, at least not enough to enable them to examine my proposal. In the course of my discussions with these gentlemen I have been convinced, indeed and amazedly convinced, that scholars are sometimes less preconceived than the common man, but on the other hand they hold on to their preconceived notions more than the common man. sharp.In spite of the feebleness and inaccuracy of the majority of their rebuttals, in spite of the cowardice and ill-formedness of my replies, which I admit, were indisputable, I never once managed to make them understand, to make them understand. They are satisfied.I am always dumbfounded to see how easy it is for them to refute me with a few beautiful words before they understand what I mean.From nowhere they dug up a priest named Sueti who said he had figured out how to represent musical scales numerically.That was enough to make them think my notation was not a new invention.That's all right, because even though I've never heard of Father Suetti, and even though his seven-note notation for church songs, which doesn't take into account octaves at all, can't be compared with the simple and convenient method I've invented. On a par - my method can easily express with numbers everything imaginable in music, such as notes, rests, octaves, beats, speeds, pitches, etc., and Sueti is fundamental to all of these However, if only the basic expression of seven notes is concerned, it is quite true that he is the original inventor.However, they did not stop there, except for paying too much attention to this original invention, and when it came to the content of the notation system, they were completely nonsense and incomprehensible.The biggest advantage of my notation method is that it saves the trouble of changing the key and notes. Therefore, for the same piece of music, no matter what key you use, just change a letter at the beginning of the piece, and you can write it down as you like. , transposed.These gentlemen, having heard the harried musicians of Paris say that transpositions are of no value, proceed from this, and regard the greatest merit of my system as an indisputable argument against it.They decided that my notes are good for vocal music and not for instrumental music, when in fact they should say that my notes are good for vocal music and better for instrumental music.On the basis of their report, the Academy issued me a certificate of commendation, but it was evident that it considered my notation to be neither novel nor useful.I later wrote a book for the public entitled Modern Music Theory.I see no need for such a certificate to adorn the book. This incident gave me the opportunity to realize that in order to properly examine a specific problem, although your knowledge of various sciences is very extensive, if you do not add special research on this problem to your broad knowledge, it is far inferior to a knowledgeable person. People who are shallow but have studied this subject both professionally and deeply.The only valid objection to my notation was raised by Rameau.No sooner had I explained my system to him than he saw its weakness. "Your symbols," he said to me, "are very good, because they define the value clearly and clearly, express the interval clearly, and express the complicated things simply, which are common Notation can't do that. But they're bad because they require the brain to think, and the brain can't keep up with the speed of the performance." "The positions of our notes," he added, "are right in front of us. , don't have to think about it. If two notes, one very high and one very low, are connected by a large series of intermediate notes, I can see the progress of the order change from one to the other at a glance. However, with your memory Notation method, if I want to figure out this big string, I have to spell out those numbers one by one, but I can’t do it at a glance.” I felt that this objection was irrefutable, so I agreed immediately.As simple and obvious as this objection is, only a veteran can make it.It is not surprising that no academician at that time could think of this.It is surprising, however, that those great men know everything, and they do not understand that each person should examine only what is within his field. As a result of my frequent visits to my members of the jury and other academicians, this has brought me into the acquaintance of the most eminent personalities of Parisian literature.Therefore, when I jumped into the forest of scholars later, I was already their old acquaintance.For the present, I am absorbed in my notation, with the intention of bringing about a revolution in the art of music, and thereby achieving fame; such success in the arts often pays you back in Paris.I shut the door of my room, and with an indescribable zeal I devoted myself for several months to completely rewriting the thesis I read to the Academy into a work aimed at the public.The difficulty is to find a bookseller who will accept my manuscript, because it costs a few dollars to coin new characters, and booksellers are unwilling to spend money on new authors, but I think that using my work It also seemed only natural to get back my food expenses while I was writing. Bonnefon found the old Quiot for me, and the old Quiot signed a contract with me, the profit was split, and the royalties were borne by me alone. It was paid for nothing, but I didn't get a penny for the first edition of the book.Although Father de Fontaine promised to promote it for me, and other newspapermen also gave the book good reviews, the sales of the book did not seem to be good. The greatest obstacle to experimenting with my notation was the fear that if the method did not work, the time spent learning it would be wasted.My explanation is that my method makes the concept very clear. Even if you want to learn music with ordinary methods, if you master my notation first, you can save time.To prove it experimentally, I taught music to an American woman, Miss DeLorean, for free.She was introduced by Mr. Rogan.After teaching for three months, she can use my notes to read any piece of music, and she can even sing any piece of music that is not too difficult according to the score, which is better than myself.The success of this experiment was astonishing, yet no one knew about it.Anyone else would have blown it up in the papers; but I, though I have some talent for inventing something useful, have never had the talent to publicize it for profit. And so again my Aeron sprinkler broke; but this time I was a man of thirty, and in the streets of Paris it was impossible to live without money, and in Paris I had nothing to depend on.In such dire circumstances, I took a course that would surprise only those who have not read the first volume of this book properly.I've finally worked my butt off for a while, and I need to catch my breath.Not only am I not pessimistic and disappointed, but I am content to be lazy and resigned to fate; in order to give God time to solve the problem, I eat my few remaining gold louis without haste, without canceling my leisurely enjoyment, just I save a little on the cost, I only go to the cafe once every two days, and I only go to the theater twice a week.With regard to the expense of Flower Street and Willow Lane, I have nothing to change, for I have never spent a penny for it in my life, except for one exception, which I will describe below. I don't even have three months' living expenses in my hand, but I live this lazy and lonely life so leisurely, so happy, so full of confidence. This is one of the characteristics of my life, and it is also my eccentric personality. One spot.I desperately need people to think of me, but it is precisely this extreme need that makes me lose the courage to show my face. The more I need to visit, the more boring I feel. I don't want to go to see those people in the literary world.Only Malifort, Father Mambley, and Fontenelle I still sometimes go to see.I even showed Mariver my comedy "Narsis."He appreciates it very much, and kindly revises it.Diderot was younger than them all, almost my own age.He loves music and knows music theory.We often talked about music together, and he also told me about some of his writing projects.Thus a more intimate relationship was soon established between the two of us, which lasted fifteen years, as it would have done had I not been unfortunate enough to be dragged into his profession through his own fault. longer. What I did with the brief but precious interval I had left before I was compelled to beg for bread no one could have imagined: I used it to recite long passages of poetry which I I read it no less than a hundred times and forgot it a hundred times.Every day around ten o'clock in the morning, I go for a walk in the Luxembourg Gardens, with a collection of Virgil or Rousseau in my pocket.I stayed there until lunch time, sometimes reciting a religious hymn, sometimes an idyll, although I forgot yesterday's after memorizing today's, but I was never discouraged.I also recall that after the crushing defeat of Nicias at Syracuse, the captured Athenians earned their living by reciting Homer.I would like to draw a lesson from this studious example, and that is to use my good memory to memorize all the poets' works, so that I can use them when I am poor and unable to earn a living. I have another method that is equally reliable and effective, and that is chess.On days when I don't go to the theater, I often go to the Café Mogi in the afternoon to play games.I made the acquaintance of Monsieur Regal, and a Monsieur Yusson, and Philidor.I had seen all the famous players in the chess world at that time, but my chess skills were no better than before.But there is one thing I have no doubt about: I will one day surpass them all, and that, I think, will be enough for me to make money.No matter which line of work I fantasize about, I always follow the same logic.I thought to myself: "Whoever becomes the top in any line of work is sure to be lucky; therefore, no matter which line, as long as I become a top, I will definitely be lucky, and opportunities will come naturally, and when opportunities come, I rely on my ability It will be smooth sailing." This kind of naive idea is not due to my rational paradox, but out of my laziness.I was terrified of the great and swift effort required to make a great effort, so I tried to glorify my laziness, and to devise a suitable set of arguments to cover up my ignominious laziness. So I sat comfortably until my money was gone; I believe that if Father Castel had not brought me out of my lethargy, I would have spent my last penny and remained indifferent.Sometimes when I go to a café, I stop by to see Father Castel.He's a bit crazy, but he's a good guy at heart: he doesn't take it seriously when he sees me doing nothing and wasting my time.He said to me: "Since the musicians and scholars are not in tune with you, change your tune and go see the ladies. Perhaps you will be more successful in this respect. I have already mentioned it to Madame de Bozanval. You, you go and see her on my recommendation. She is a good person, and will be glad to see her husband and son's countrymen. You will meet her daughter Madame de Bloreil at her house, she is a Talented woman. I also spoke of you in front of another woman, Madame Dupin. You show her your work. She would like to meet you and will receive you very well. In Paris, what's the matter? It takes women to do it: women seem to be curves, and wise men are the asymptotes of these curves; they approach them constantly, but never touch them." Day after day I put off this terrible, drudgery-like visit, and at last I summoned up the courage to see Madame Bézanval.She received me kindly.As soon as Madame de Broreuil entered her room, she said to her: "Daughter, this is M. Rousseau whom Father Castel told us about." Madame de Broreuil praised my work. and led me to her piano, showing me that she had studied my work.I saw that it was almost one o'clock on her wall clock, and I was about to leave. Mrs. Bozanval said to me: "You live far away, don't go, just eat here." I stayed politely up.A quarter of an hour later, I realized from some signs that she had invited me to dinner in the servant's room.Madame Bozanval was a very good person, but her knowledge was limited, and she was too proud of her Polish aristocracy, and she did not know much about the respect due to intellectuals.She even judged me this time by my manners alone, not even by my dress; which, though simple, was neat enough to give the appearance of someone who should be dining in the servants' chambers.I have forgotten the way to get off the house for too long, and I never want to do it again.I didn't show my displeasure either, but I just told Madame Bézinval that I suddenly remembered that there was something trivial to do and I had to go back, and I was about to go away.Madame de Bloreil went up to her mother and whispered something in her ear, which had an immediate effect.Madame de Bézinval stood up and stopped me, saying: "I would like to invite you to dine with us." I thought it would be foolish to be arrogant, so I stayed.Moreover, Madame de Bloreil's kindness touched me and made me interested in her.I should be glad to dine with her, and hope that, when she gets to know me better, she will not regret having done me this honor.The Abbe de la Moignon, an old friend of their family, was also present.Like Madame de Bloreil, he spoke the jargon of Parisian society, full of fancy words and inscrutable lingoes.Poor Jean-Jacques pales in comparison.I am also sensible and dare not show off my cleverness, so I don't say a word.How nice it would be if I had been living like this all the time!I will never fall into the abyss like today.