loved honest things, her inclinations were upright and virtuous, her taste was delicate; she was formed for an elegancy of manners which she always loved and yet never followed, because, instead of listening to her heart, which led her right, she listened to her reason, which led her wrong. When false principles took her from her path, her real sentiments were in contradiction to them; but she unfortunately piqued herself upon her philosophy, and the line of conduct which she had drawn up for herself spoiled that which her heart dictated.

'M. de Tavel, her first lover, was her master in philosophy, and the principles which he instilled into her mind were those which he needed to seduce her. Finding her attached to her husband, to her duties, but always cold, reasoning and impregnable through the senses, he attacked her by sophisms, and succeeded in proving her duties, to which she was so much attached, to be a kind of catechism merely intended to amuse children; the union of the sexes, an act of the utmost indifference in itself; conjugal fidelity, an obligatory outward show whose morality only concerned opinion; a husband's peace of mind, the only duty of the wife; so that concealed infidelities neither injured him who was deceived, nor need they trouble the conscience. In fine, he persuaded her that the thing in itself was of no consequence, the evil arose only from scandal, and that every woman who was honest in appearance was, by that alone, honest in point of fact. Thus did the poor wretch reach his aim by corrupting the mind of a child whose heart he could not corrupt. He was punished by a most devouring jealousy, being persuaded that she treated him as he had taught her to treat her husband. I do not know whether he deceived himself on this point. The Minister Perret is said to have been his sucWhat I do know is, that the impassive temperament of this young woman, which should have protected her from this system, was in the end the means of preventing her from renouncing it. She could not conceive why others should give so much importance to that which had none for herself. She never honoured with the name of virtue the abstinence which cost her so little.'

cessor.

Mme. de Warens, at the ardent solicitations of Jean Jacques, left her house in Chambéry to retire to the Charmettes-not in

The Charmettes. Residence of Mme. de Warens and Rousseau

1736, as Rousseau declares, but in reality in 1738, as the lease of the Charmettes proves. It is possible that Mme. de Warens began to discover the real character of Rousseau, at the time of Claude Anet's death in 1734.

The château Charmettes' is on a hillside half an hour's drive from Chambéry. At the beginning of the way which leads to this rural residence, there is a mile-stone bearing the inscription: Les Charmettes, 1000 mètres.

As we mount the hill a sparkling stream meets us, its tuneful waters tinkled far in advance. The ascent is gradual and the road bordered by trees which, although it is December, have not thrown off their summer garb, while ivy and green moss cluster on all their trunks. The road lies partly through vineyards cultivated en crosse, as at Evian.

The house is of two storeys-between which a luxuriant vine throws its arm-with a steep roof and projecting eaves. The windows are filled with small panes, and the shutters painted pale green, seemingly a favourite colour among the farming class in this region. The main building with its dependencies stands on a terrace supported by a massive wall, in which a door opens into a long passage leading to the

cellars.

Turning up the steep pathway towards the mansion, we pass a small building, originally a chapel, afterwards an oven, and now a wood loft. It bears a Latin inscription almost illegible, with the date 1647, and a coat of arms party per fess, two stars in the upper, and a wing in the lower part of the field. There are also traces of armorial bearings above the main door, but the shield was broken during the Revolution.

The hall, devoid of furniture or ornament, is paved with large square stone flags; three doors open into it and a broad stone staircase mounts to the first floor. On the right is a room filled with various relics of former residents. Our cicerone insisted that the portrait of Rousseau was painted by the author himself. It is certainly poor enough to have been drawn by Rousseau, or any other indifferent delineator. It represents him in a light brown costume, with white cravat and ruffles,

''Original lease of the Charmettes,' pub. in the Mém. de la Société Savoi sienne, i. 87.

and a small grey wig. His eyes are brown, his nose aquiline, his lips thin and tightly compressed, and cheekbones decidedly prominent. One hand rests on the Social Contract,' which stands upon a column bearing an inkstand and inscribed with the words Vitam Impendere Vero; the other hand holds a pen above the volume of Emile, the name of his favourite Plutarch appearing on another book.

This salle-a-manger is of ample proportions, with a lofty ceiling, and the heavy beams peculiar to the Savoyard architecture of the sixteenth century. It is lighted by two large windows looking over the terrace, and wears altogether a marvellously attractive look. The whole atmosphere of the place is one of size and comfort. Above opposite doors busts of Rousseau and Voltaire are evidently snarling at each other.

Here is Rousseau's walnut bookcase, but without contents. Mme. de Warens' dining-table is here to bring to mind her dainty ways at table, and recall images of those who sat round it.

Passing through a door partly of glass, we come to the salon which looks towards Chambéry, and by a double door, the inner being of glass for summer use, descend into a garden, and from that pass to another terrace, bordered by vineyards.

In this garden is an avenue of plantains with intertwining branches. Was this Rousseau's berceau ? It bears all the marks of gnarled antiquity. The extraordinary colour of these interwoven limbs, resembling the molasse-a stone much used in this country and in the Pays de Vaud-gives them a weird and close appearance to the aisle of a Gothic cathedral. Through this vista the eye ranges along the valley of Chambéry to the mountains.

In the salon is Rousseau's walnut gaming-table, disposed for chess on the outside, and for cards on the inside. Here is also Mme. de Warens' harpsichord, whose notes have become harsh and discordant with age, unlike its first owner's sweet voice, which was melodious to life's end.

From the main entrance hall we mounted by two stairways to Rousseau's bedroom, containing his lit de repos, mirror, and another gaming-table. The bed is in a large alcove and is ornamented with Rousseau's portrait after the Geneva bust.