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Rousseau, Jean-Jacques

"The Confessions Of Jean-Jacques Rousseau"


The ringing of bells, which ever particularly affects me, the
singing of birds, the fineness of the day, the beauty of the
landscape, the scattered country houses, among which in idea I
placed our future dwelling, altogether struck me with an impression so
lively, tender, melancholy, and powerful, that I saw myself in ecstasy
transported into that happy time and abode, where my heart, possessing
all the felicity it could desire, might taste it with raptures
inexpressible. I never recollect to have enjoyed the future with
such force of illusion as at that time; and what has particularly
struck me in the recollection of this reverie is that, when
realized, I found my situation exactly as I had imagined it. If ever
waking dream had an appearance of a prophetic vision, it was assuredly
this; I was only deceived in its imaginary duration, for days,
years, and life itself, passed ideally in perfect tranquility, while
the reality lasted but a moment. Alas! my most durable happiness was
but as a dream, which I had no sooner had a glimpse of, than I
instantly awoke.
I know not when I should have done, if I was to enter into a
detail of all the follies that affection for my dear Madam de
Warrens made me commit. When absent from her, how often have I
kissed the bed on a supposition that she had slept there; the curtains
and all the furniture of my chamber, on recollecting they were hers,
and that her charming hands had touched them; nay, the floor itself,
when I considered she had walked there.


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