A few words respecting Jean Jacques Rousseau--The comtesse du Barry is
desirous of his acquaintance--The countess visits Jean Jacques Rousseau--His
household furniture-- His portrait--Therese-- second visit from madame du Barry
to Jean Jacques Rousseau--The countess relates her visit to the king--Billet from
J. J. Rousseau to madame du Barry--The two duchesses d'Aiguillon
Spite of the little estimation in which I held men of letters, generally speaking, you
must not take it for granted that I entertained an equal indifference for all these
gentlemen. I have already, I fear, tired your patience when dwelling upon my
ardent admiration of M. de Voltaire; I have now to speak to you of that with which
his illustrious rival, Jean Jacques Rousseau, inspired me--the man who, after a
life so filled with constant trouble and misfortunes, died a few years since in so
deplorable a manner. At the period of which I am now speaking this man, who
had filled Europe with his fame, was living at Paris, in a state bordering upon
indigence. I must here mention, that it was owing to my solicitation that he had
been permitted to return from his exile, I having successfully interceded for him
with the chancellor and the attorney-general. M. Seguier made no difficulty to my
request, because he looked upon Jean Jacques Rousseau as the greatest
enemy to a set of men whom he mortally hated--the philosophers. Neither did M.
de Maupeou, from the moment he effected the overthrow of the parliament, see
any objection to bestowing his protection upon a man whom the parliaments had
exiled. In this manner, therefore, without his being aware of it, Rousseau owed to
me the permission to re-enter Paris. Spite of the mortifying terms in which this
celebrated writer had spoken of the king's mistresses, I had a lively curiosity to
know him; all that his enemies repeated of his uncouthness, and even of his
malicious nature, far from weakening the powerful interest with which he inspired
me, rather augmented it, by strengthening the idea I had previously formed of his
having been greatly calumniated. The generous vengeance which he had
recently taken for the injuries he had received from Voltaire particularly charmed
me.* I thought only how I could effect my design of seeing him by one means or
another, and in this resolution I was confirmed by an accident which befell me
one day.
*Jean Jacques Rousseau in his journey through Lyons in June 1770 subscribed
for the statue of Voltaire.--author
It was the commencement of April, 1771, I was reading for the fourth time, the
"Nouvelle Heloise,"and for the tenth, or, probably, twelfth, the account of the
party on the lake, when the marechale de Mirepoix entered the room. I laid my
open volume on the mantel-piece, and the marechale, glancing her eye upon the
book I had just put down, smilingly begged my pardon for disturbing my grave
studies, and taking it in her hand, exclaimed,
"Ah! I see you have been perusing 'La Nouvelle Heloise'; I have just been having
more than an hour's conversation respecting its author."
"What were you saying of him?" asked I.
