Memoire_, _Les Aveugles Juges des Conteurs_, _Aventure Indienne_, and
_Voyage de la Raison_.

[361] It is only fair to mention in this place, and in justice to a much
abused institution, that this Babylonian story is said to be the only
thing of its kind and its author that escaped the Roman censorship. If
this is true, the unfeathered _perroquets_ were not so spiteful as the
feathered ones too often are. Or perhaps each chuckled at the satire on
his brethren.

[362] As with other controverted points, not strictly relevant, it is
permissible for us to neglect protests about _la legende des
philosophes_ and the like. Of course Rousseau was not only, at one time
or another, the personal enemy of Voltaire and Diderot--he was, at one
time or another, the personal enemy of everybody, including (not at any
one but at all times) himself--but held principles very different from
theirs. Yet their names will always be found together: and for our
object the junction is real.

[363] Not the Abbe, who had been dead for some years, but a Genevese
professor who saw a good deal of Jean-Jacques in his later days.

[364] "For short" _La Nouvelle Heloise_ has been usually adopted. I
prefer _Julie_ as actually the first title, and for other reasons with
which it is unnecessary to trouble the reader.

[365] She dies after slipping into the lake in a successful attempt to
rescue one of her children; but neither is drowned, and she does not
succumb rapidly enough for "shock" to account for it, or slowly enough
for any other intelligible malady to hold its course.

[366] There is another curious anticipation of Dickens here: for Julie,
as Dora does with Agnes, entreats Claire to "fill her vacant
place"--though, by the way, not with her husband. And a third parallel,
between Saint-Preux and Bradley Headstone, need not be quite farcical.

[367] You _may_ tear out Introductions, if you do it neatly; and this I
say, having written many.

[368] Also Rousseau, without meaning it, has made him by no means a
fool. When, on learning from his wife and daughter that Saint-Preux had
been officiating as "coach," he asked if this genius was a gentleman,
and on hearing that he was not, replied, "What have you paid him, then?"
it was not, as the novelist and his hero took it, in their vanity, to
be, mere insolence of caste. M. d'Etange knew perfectly well that though
he could not trust a French gentleman with his wife, there was not
nearly so much