to receive its
instructions, nor can all the pompous morality of a pedagogue have half
the effect that is produced by the tender, affectionate, and artless
conversation of a sensible woman on him who loves her.

The intimacy in which I lived with Madam de Warrens, having placed me
more advantageously in her opinion than formerly, she began to think
(notwithstanding my awkward manner) that I deserved cultivation for the
polite world, and that if I could one day show myself there in an
eligible situation, I should soon be able to make my way. In consequence
of this idea, she set about forming not only my judgment, but my address,
endeavoring to render me amiable, as well as estimable; and if it is true
that success in this world is consistent with strict virtue (which, for
my part, I do not believe), I am certain there is no other road than that
she had taken, and wished to point out to me. For Madam de Warrens knew
mankind, and understood exquisitely well the art of treating all ranks,
without falsehood, and without imprudence, neither deceiving nor
provoking them; but this art was rather in her disposition than her
precepts, she knew better how to practise than explain it, and I was of
all the world the least calculated to become master of such an
attainment; accordingly, the means employed for this purpose were nearly
lost labor, as well as the pains she took to procure me a fencing and a
dancing master.

Though very well made, I could never learn to dance a minuet; for being
plagued with corns, I had acquired a habit of walking on my heels, which
Roche, the dancing master, could never break me of. It was still worse
at the fencing-school, where, after three months' practice, I made but
very little progress, and could never attempt fencing with any but my
master. My wrist was not supple enough, nor my arm sufficiently firm to
retain the foil, whenever he chose to make it fly out of my hand. Add to
this, I had a mortal aversion both to the art itself and to the person
who undertook to teach it to me, nor should I ever have imagined, that
anyone could have been so proud of the science of sending men out of the
world. To bring this vast genius within the compass of my comprehension,
he explained himself by comparisons drawn from music, which he understood
nothing of. He found striking analogies between a hit in 'quarte' or
'tierce' with the intervals of music which bears those names: when he
made a feint he cried