sing themselves to violent censure,
and which seldom fail to succeed. Reduced to seek a fate independent of
hers, and not able to devise one, I passed to the other extreme, placing
my happiness so absolutely in her, that I became almost regardless of
myself. The ardent desire to see her happy, at any rate, absorbed all my
affections; it was in vain she endeavored to separate her felicity from
mine, I felt I had a part in it, spite of every impediment.

Thus those virtues whose seeds in my heart begun to spring up with my
misfortunes: they had been cultivated by study, and only waited the
fermentation of adversity to become prolific. The first-fruit of this
disinterested disposition was to put from my heart every sentiment of
hatred and envy against him who had supplanted me. I even sincerely
wished to attach myself to this young man; to form and educate him; to
make him sensible of his happiness, and, if possible, render him worthy
of it; in a word, to do for him what Anet had formerly done for me. But
the similarity of dispositions was wanting. More insinuating and
enlightened than Anet, I possessed neither his coolness, fortitude, nor
commanding strength of character, which I must have had in order to
succeed. Neither did the young man possess those qualities which Anet
found in me; such as gentleness, gratitude, and above all, the knowledge
of a want of his instructions, and an ardent desire to render them
useful. All these were wanting; the person I wished to improve, saw in
me nothing but an importunate, chattering pedant: while on the contrary
he admired his own importance in the house, measuring the services he
thought he rendered by the noise he made, and looking on his saws,
hatchets, and pick-axes, as infinitely more useful than all my old books:
and, perhaps, in this particular, he might not be altogether blamable;
but he gave himself a number of airs sufficient to make anyone die with
laughter. With the peasants he assumed the airs of a country gentleman;
presently he did as much with me, and at length with Madam de Warrens
herself. His name, Vintzenried, did not appear noble enough, he
therefore changed it to that of Monsieur de Courtilles, and by the latter
appellation he was known at Chambery, and in Maurienne, where he married.

At length this illustrious personage gave himself such airs of
consequence, that he was everything in the house, and myself nothing.
When I had the misfortune to disple