said to myself, my sole study has been to merit well of mankind; wherefore then, am I shocked as often as I see them? To no purpose did I call in reason to my aid: my reason could do nothing against a malady which was enfeebling all its powers....Medicine, it is true, did offer me her assistance. She informed me, that the focus of my disorder was in the nerves. I felt it much better than she was able to define it to me. But supposing I had not been too poor to have availed myself of her prescriptions, I had too much experience to put any faith in them. Three gentlemen, of my acquaintance, tormented with the same species of indisposition, died in a short time of three different remedies, and these, pretended specifics for the cure of the nervous disorder. The first, by bathing and bleeding : the second, by the use of opium; and the third, by that of æther. These two last, were both celebrated physicians of the faculty at Paris, both of high reputation for their medical writings, and particularly on the subject of nervous affections. I discovered

afresh, but for this once by the experience of another, what an illusion I had practiced upon myself, in expecting the cure of my complaints from men; I discovered how vain their opinions and their doctrines were, and what a silly part I had been acting through the whole course of my life. Nevertheless, from the multitude of the calamities which oppressed me, I derived a powerful motive to resignation. On comparing the good and ill with which our fleeting days are so strongly variegated, I caught a glimpse of a most important truth, not generally known: namely, that nature produces nothing that deserves to be hated; and that her Author, having placed us in a career which must of necessity terminate in death, has furnished us with as many reasons for being reconciled to the thoughts of dissolution, as for cherishing the love of life. p. 342.

For my own part, a feeble shrub, shattered by so many tempests, nothing more remained to me that could be lost. Per

ceiving, besides, that I had henceforth nothing to hope, either from others or from myself, I committed myself to God alone, and engaged my promise to Him, never to expect any thing essential to my happiness, from any one man in particular, to whatever extremity I might chance to be reduced, and of whatever kind it might be. My confidence was acceptable to Him, of whom no one ever implored assistance in vain. The first fruit of my resignation, was the calming of my woes. My solicitudes were lulled to rest, as soon as I ceased to struggle against them.

To J. J. Rousseau I stand indebted for the re-establishment of my health. I had read in his * valuable productions, among other natural truths, that man was made to act, and not to meditate. Hitherto, I had exercised my mind, and

suffered my body

to rest; I now inverted the order of that regimen; I exercised the body, and gave repose to the mind. p. 343,

* Original, immortal,

How in thy face my ancient friend I see !
Anchises looks, and lives, and speaks in thee!

And, touch'd with miseries myself have known,
I view with pity, woes so like my own.

p. 353.

Nurtured myself in the school of adversity, I am instructed to succour the miserable. p. 354.

But, among many other anecdotes which I could produce, in support of what I just now said, namely, that simple people took J. J. Rousseau for an ordinary man, here is one which must convince the reader of his habitual modesty. The day that we went to look for a dinner with the hermits of Mount Valerian, on our return to Paris in the evening, we were caught in a shower, not far from the Bois de Boulogne, opposite to the Gate Maillot. We went in to take shelter, under the great Chesnut trees, which had now begun to put out leaves. Under those trees we found a great deal of company, who, like ourselves, had crowded thither for covert. One of the Swiss lads

having perceived John James, came running up to him, in a transport of joy, and thus accosted him; "How now, my good man, whence do you come? It is an age since we have had the pleasure of seeing you!" Rousseau mildly replied: "My wife has had a long fit of illness, and I myself have been considerably out of order." "Oh! my poor good man," replied the lad, "you are not comfortable here: come, come; I will find you a place within doors." In fact, he exerted himself so zealously, that he procured us an apartment above stairs, where, notwithstanding the crowd, he contrived to accommodate us with chairs, a table, and some bread and wine. While he was shewing us the way, I said to John James, this young man seems to be very familiar with you; surely he does not know who you are? "Oh! yes," replied he, "we have been acquainted these several years. My wife and I used frequently to come hither, in fine weather, to eat a cutlet of an evening." The appellation of "good man," so frankly bestowed on him by the tavern boy, who