._--Know it! How many times have I said to myself: What, Rameau,
there are ten thousand good tables in Paris, with fifteen or twenty
covers apiece, and of these covers not one for thee! There are
purses full of gold which is poured out right and left, and not a
crown of it falls to thee! A thousand witlings without parts and
without worth, a thousand paltry creatures without a charm, a
thousand scurvy intriguers, are all well clad, while thou must go
bare! Canst thou be such a nincompoop as all this? Couldst thou not
flatter as well as anybody else? Couldst thou not find out how to
lie, swear, forswear, promise, keep or break, like anybody else?
Couldst thou not favour the intrigue of my lady, and carry the
love-letter of my lord, like anybody else? Couldst thou not find
out the trick of making some shopkeeper's daughter understand how
shabbily dressed she is, how two fine earrings, a touch of rouge,
some lace, and a Polish gown would make her ravishing; that those
little feet were not made for trudging through the mud; that there
is a handsome gentleman, young, rich, in a coat covered with lace,
with a superb carriage and six fine lackeys, who once saw her as he
passed, who thought her charming and wonderful, and that ever since
that day he has taken neither bite nor sup, cannot sleep at nights,
and will surely die of it?... He comes, he pleases, the little maid
vanishes, and I pocket my two thousand crowns. What, thou hast a
talent like this, and yet in want of bread? Shame on thee, wretch!
I recalled a crowd of scoundrels who were not a patch upon me, and
yet were rolling in money. There was I in serge, and they in
velvet; they leaned on gold-headed canes, and had fine rings on
their fingers. And what were they? Wretched bungling strummers, and
now they are a kind of fine gentlemen. At such times I felt full of
courage, my soul inflamed and elevated, my wits alert and subtle,
and capable of anything in the world. But this happy turn did not
last, it would seem, for so far I have not been able to make much
way. However that may be, there is the text of my frequent
soliloquies, which you may paraphrase as you choose, provided you
are sure that I know what self-contempt is, and that torture of
conscience which comes of the usefulness of the gifts that heav