exponent of religion. He managed, especially after his death, to obtain the good-will and respect of almost all parties. The men of the revolution regarded him with a reverence that was little short of idolatry. Robespierre would have made his teachings a new bible for France, and if necessary have died for them as a martyr. On the other hand, those whom Robespierre would have proscribed, the church party and their supporters, found in Rousseau's influence one of their main bulwarks. It was this influence, at any rate, that kept religion and virtue and public morality from going out of fashion in those revolutionary days.

And Rousseau's influence on literature and literary style was equally remarkable. He gave to the literature of the world a new quality-a delight in and a feeling for natural beauty. He also restored to French literature a quality it had once possessed, but now had lost-the glow, the color, the heat, the passion, of intimate self-revelation. While in no sense a poet, he brought back to literature for the use of poetry the lyric thrill of genuine emotion. And French literature since his day has never ceased to feel that thrill.

Rousseau and the encyclopedists mark, therefore, the cleaving of the ways. Rousseau is the natural head of that school in literature which regards the personal, the romantic, the beautiful, as the chief objects of thought and expression. The encyclopedists, "the philosophes," are the head of that school which regards accurate description, exact analysis, and the bringing together of true cause and effect, as the chief ends.

X. ROUSSEAU.

Rousseau's "Emile" is admitted by all educators to have marked an epoch in the history of education. It is indeed an inspiring work, and written with a wonderful eloquence. It exerted a great influence on the education, and therefore on the civilization of mankind, and brought to its author incredible sufferings, whether the evils of which he complained were real or imaginary. Rousseau's book is well known, and so is Rousseau, but the character of the man and his career have in them something mysterious, which makes the subject an interesting one to study. The author of " Émile" must be known in order to understand his works, for, unlike the great men of the seventeenth century, whose personality can hardly be seen in their writings, the men of the eighteenth century permeated their works with their own opinions and enabled us to study their character and even the events of their lives. Rousseau made himself known to us not only through his letters, but also through that extraordinary book, the Confessions." Never before had any one disclosed with such self-pride, with such cynicism, his most secret thoughts and acts; never, also, has any one written in a more magic and enchanting style the history of a wretched. life.

Rousseau was born in Geneva in 1712; his mother died at his birth, and his father, an intelligent and honorable watchmaker, brought him up most tenderly, although he

seems to have singularly lacked judgment in his dealings with his son. Rousseau relates that when only seven years old his father and he used to spend whole nights reading together. This must have contributed to give him that peculiar nervosity which made him so miserable all his life. His first seven or eight years were very happy, but unfortunately his father left Geneva, and the boy remained with his Uncle Bernard, who sent him and his son to the school of Pastor Lambercier's. Here again were a few happy moments for Rousseau.

After leaving the pastor he became the apprentice of a notary who dismissed him for his stupidity, and then he began his apprenticeship with an engraver. His master was a brutal man and treated him most cruelly. The boy learned to steal and to lie, and we might imagine that his intelligence would be stupefied by the blows which he received, but he tells us that every minute which he could rob from his employer was devoted to reading. It is this taste for reading which enabled him to acquire an immense fund of knowledge, which he knew so well how to use later. One day, having gone out of town with some friends, they returned at the very moment when the guards were closing the gates for the night. Rousseau did not dare to face the next day the wrath of his master, and resolved to run away from his country. Shortly afterward we see him at Annecy, at the house of Madame de Warens, that kind and lovable woman, whose errors and vagaries have been so ruthlessly disclosed to us by the man to whom she gave hospitality and whom she was to make great. When Rousseau entered her house she was twenty-eight years old and he sixteen; but she produced such an impression on the boy that, at first sight, he felt for her a love which was to last for many years.

Rousseau having manifested his intention of becoming a

Catholic, Madame de Warens sent him to Turin to be instructed. Several years later he returned to the Calvinistic faith and was formally readmitted among the citizens of Geneva. His life at Turin was one of perpetual change. One day he was on the verge of starvation; another day he was secretary, or rather lackey, of an old lady; then he entered the service of a nobleman, who treated him most kindly and whose son gave him Latin lessons. He had the best prospects of success in life, when he suddenly neglected his work, was dismissed by his patrons, and went with one of his Genevese countrymen, imagining that he could earn his living by giving exhibitions of a toy fountain in the villages. In 1729 he returned to Madame de Warens, who did all in her power to help him. She sent him to a seminary to study for the priesthood, but he was declared unfit for that calling, and then she had music lessons given to him. On his return from Lyons he found to his dismay that his benefactress had gone to Paris.

During her absence Rousseau led the life of a vagabond, going from one place to another, teaching music without knowing it and learning it by dint of teaching, interpreter to a Greek archimandrite, living from charity, sleeping in the public squares at Lyons, and finally reaching Chambéri, where Madame de Warens had established her residence. Now we come to the most happy period in Rousseau's life. At a short distance from Chambéri are “Les Charmettes," which Madame de Warens and her protégé have rendered immortal, and to which are attracted all who have been captivated by the wonderful style and the many grand thoughts of the author of "Emile." There Rousseau studied nature as well as science and literature, there he lived happily with a woman whom he adored and who seems to have ennobled his soul by her gentleness and devotion. Unfortunately, having gone to Montpélier to

be treated for an imaginary disease, he found on his return that Madame de Warens had taken another companion. He left her and became the preceptor of two boys. Let us note here that Rousseau, the theoretic educator, proved to be a very poor teacher. He was too nervous, too visionary, and he says he felt like killing his pupils when they did not behave.

We next find Rousseau in Paris, where he had gone to introduce a method which he had invented for the notation of music by numbers. Although he had little success in his method, his journey was of service to him, as he was thrown in contact with people of influence, and soon obtained the secretaryship to the French ambassador to Venice. In that city he took a greater passion still for music, and on his return to France we see him opposed to French music and producing his charming opera, "Le Devin du Village" ("The Village Oracle"). This work was played before the king and had the greatest success. Louis XV. desired to see the author, but Rousseau declined the invitation. The pretext which he gives is not good, and we can only account for his conduct by the fact that his character was becoming morose, unsociable, and most strange. It was at this time that he met Thérèse Levasseur, with whom he lived to the end of his life. She was a serving-woman at the boarding-house where he took his meals, was completely illiterate, and nearly stupid. She seemed to have had some qualities, and her husband, as he finally called himself, might have been happy with her if there had not stood between them the forms of five little children absent from the family hearth. Five children were born to Thérèse, and yet she was childless! The unnatural father had sent the poor babes at their birth to the foundling asylum, and neither he nor the mother ever knew what had become of them. In his “Confes