Spirit of the times. [volume] (Ironton, Ohio) 1853-1858, 1855-05-15


cause the sight of things did not re.
spo"d 10 the sublimily Of his desires,
nor TO the heroism of his conceptions /;
because knowing men 10 be good, he
had been unable TO resign himself to
finding them wicked because an apos.
tic of the doctrine Of fraternity, he was
assisting al the movement of dssolu.
lion behind which he saw the abyss be.
cause, finally, possessing tho treasure of
tenderness and NOT finding in any one
tho power of loving equal TO his faults,
exPialcd by his mislorluucs, ard what
misforunes! The victim Of an imag.
nary plot, surrounded by enemies, the
phantoms Of his sick imasinalon, he
enleavorei in vain to escape from him.
self, either by wandering far from the
beaten paths, he asked from nature n
lorgcllulness Of mankind, or motion.
less, with his glance fixed on space.
he sought FOR himself refuge in the
world Of his thoughts. Towards the
close, he was suhjec, to wandering fits,
which presented themselves at his home
by signs well known b, his rare visi.
tors. Sometimes, for example, they sur.
priscd him turned around on his chair,
with his arm passed over the back, and
swinging there like q pendulum. Then
cloud came over his face; his habitual
melancholy became change TO despair,
and his disordered sentiments were ex.
hibl,ed in a conversation full Of bitter
malne.s.
He had always been poor. and had
never complained, so long as ho was
enabled to bear his misery proudly and
to guarantee himself by labor from the
yoke Of obligations. But the hour was
coming in which his activity yielding 10
old age, he saw his resources daily di.
minishing; his wife lost her health; he
fell sick in his turn, and from that mo.
mcnt he counted indiscnce in the mum.
Der of his misforlunes.
ln dread Of his tomorrow, he wrote
these lines on paper which bears date,
February, III:
"My wife has been long sick. Re.
ducel 10 live absolutely alone and yet
not being in a condition to do without
the services Of another, there remains in
our infrmities and desolation,- on y one
way Of sustaining our old days.; It is to
find some asylum in which we can sub.
sist at our own expense, but exempt
from labor which surpasses cur strength,
and from details aud cares Of which we
are no Ionger capable. Besides, no
matter how they treat me, whe lher they
keep me in an actual enclosure or in
apparent freedom, in hospital or a
desert, with mild or harsh people, with
false or true (if there are still any of the
latlcD, | consent TO every thing, prov ,e,l
they bcstow on my wife the cares hel
situation requires, and that they give me
a roof, the most simple clothing and the
PLANES! food to the end of my days, Sc
that shall not be compelled hereafle
to take part in any Ting.
1t was under these cruel circumstan
ces that M. Stanisas Girarlin besoughl
Rosseau to accept an asylum. A vigi
liant hospitality awaited the author o
Emile at short distance from Paris, ii
the midst of smiling country, where
several situations light recall him the
happy shores Of Vevay and the rocks o
MellIerie. A small pavilion was offered
him near the chateau Of Ermenonville
where, in the midst Of an old orchard
and in places arrayed in accordance
with the desert ption of the elyseum O.
Clarens, a dwelling was prepared 70,
him filed with the images of the Neu
Heloise. The poor old man could no
resist the temptation Of seeing the tree:
and breathing the air of the hills; hc
accepted it and went to it. But sad
ness had taken too strong possession o
him for him to rid himself Of his habi,
ual suffering. With his 10, cast in a,
age in which he felt himself a stranger
he was, like all precursors, to be thu
martyr to his own glory. Thus nothing
could soohe his pains anil saver. IN from
the discouragement of living. Nelhe
the cares of a generous family, nor 1
free sojonrn in the woods, so dear to hi
savage restlessness, nor his affection 70
the youngest child of his host, the grace
full companion of his walks, and whom
he called his little governor, nor finally
the calm Of hours employed in collect
ing flowers, culling plants, dreamin
along the sleepy waters and interroga
ting God in solitude.
On the 2l Of July, l77s, Roussea
rose very early in the morning and wen
out. But instead Of going to the cha
teau, as was his custom, he went 10 sa
lutte the birth Of the day. He leturn
, and inluses into his cup of coffee som
plants which he had gathered in hi
walk. and as in presenliment Of an ap
; preaching end. he feared to leave an
injustice behind hims he asks them t
r pay workman small sum that wa
due 10 him. Theresa took the none
and descended, but scarcely had sh
reached the foot of the stairs, than sh
heard his groans. Alarmed, she re
mounts, and finds him seated on stra,
chair with his elbows on commode an
his features bearing a fatal imprint
! Madame do Girardia soon appears
Turning towards her with an aifecliona,
and sad air, Rosseau said to her, "Mat
u anne | am snfTarin0 crnalIv Vorr an,