If I deceived myself in my conclusions, nothing can be more astonishing than the security with which I depended upon them.Were I one of those men unfortunately born deaf to the voice of nature, in whom no sentiment of justice or humanity ever took the least root, this obduracy would be natural.But that warmth of heart, strong sensibility, and facility of forming attachments; the force with which they subdue me; my cruel sufferings when obliged to break them; the innate benevolence I cherish towards my fellow-creatures; the ardent love I bear to great virtues, to truth and justice, the horror in which I hold evil of every kind; the impossibility of hating, of injuring or wishing to injure any one; the soft and lively emotion Ifeel at the sight of whatever is virtuous, generous and amiable; can these meet in the same mind with the depravity which without scruple treads under foot the most pleasing of all our duties? No, I feel, and openly declare this to be impossible.Never in his whole life could J.
J.be a man without sentiment or an unnatural father.I may have been deceived, but it is impossible I should have lost the least of my feelings.Were I to give my reasons, I should say too much; since they have seduced me, they would seduce many others.I will not therefore expose those young persons by whom I may be read to the same danger.Iwill satisfy myself by observing that my error was such, that in abandoning my children to public education for want of the means of bringing them up myself; in destining them to become workmen and peasants, rather than adventurers and fortune-hunters, I thought Iacted like an honest citizen, and a good father, and considered myself as a member of the republic of Plato.Since that time the regrets of my heart have more than once told me I was deceived; but my reason was so far from giving me the same intimation, that I have frequently returned thanks to Heaven for having by this means preserved them from the fate of their father, and that by which they were threatened the moment I should have been under the necessity of leaving them.Had Ileft them to Madam d'Epinay, or Madam de Luxembourg, who, from friendship, generosity, or some other motive, offered to take care of them in due time, would they have been more happy, better brought up, or honester men? To this I cannot answer; but I am certain they would have been taught to hate and perhaps betray their parents: it is much better that they have never known them.
My third child was therefore carried to the Foundling Hospital as well as the two former, and the next two were disposed of in the same manner; for I have had five children in all.This arrangement seemed to me to be so good, reasonable and lawful, that if I did not publicly boast of it, the motive by which I was withheld was merely my regard for their mother: but I mentioned it to all those to whom I had declared our connection, to Diderot, to Grimm, afterwards to M.
d'Epinay, and after another interval, to Madam de Luxembourg; and this freely and voluntarily, without being under the least necessity of doing it, having it in my power to conceal the step from all the world: for La Gouin was an honest woman, very discreet, and a person on whom I had the greatest reliance.The only one of my friends to whom it was in some measure my interest to open myself, was Thierry the physician, who had the care of my poor aunt in one of her lyings in, in which she was very ill.In a word, there was no mystery in my conduct, not only on account of my never having concealed anything from my friends, but because I never found any harm in it.
Everything considered, I chose the best destination for my children, or that which I thought to be such.I could have wished, and still should be glad, had I been brought up as they have been.
Whilst I was thus communicating what I had done, Madam le Vasseur did the same thing amongst her acquaintance, but with less disinterested views.I introduced her and her daughter to Madam Dupin, who, from friendship to me, showed them the greatest kindness.The mother confided to her the secret of the daughter.Madam Dupin, who is generous and kind, and to whom she never told how attentive I was to her, notwithstanding my moderate resources, in providing for everything, provided on her part for what was necessary, with a liberality which, by order of her mother, the daughter concealed from me during my residence at Paris, nor ever mentioned it until we were at the Hermitage, when she informed me of it, after having disclosed to me several other secrets of her heart.I did not know Madam Dupin, who never took the least notice to me of the matter, was so well informed: I know not yet whether Madam de Chenonceaux, her daughter-in-law, was as much in the secret: but Madam de Francueil knew the whole and could not refrain from prattling.She spoke of it to me the following year, after I had left her house.This induced me to write her a letter upon the subject, which will be found in my collections, and wherein I gave such of my reasons as I could make public, without exposing Madam le Vasseur and her family; the most determinative of them came from that quarter, and these I kept profoundly secret.
