近读卢梭《忏悔录》，有几句特别契合我心的话，摘录如下，希冀引起读者 诸 君共鸣耳。 卢梭眼中的法国人： I must, however, do justice to the French; they do not exhaust themselves so much in protestations as is said, and those they make are nearly always sincere; but they have a way of appearing to be interested in you, which is more deceptive than words. The coarse compliments of the Swiss can only impose upon fools. The manners of the French are more seductive, for the very that they are simpler; one would think that they are not telling you all they mean to do for you, in order to give you a more agreeable surprise. I will say more: they are not false in their professions; they are naturally obliging, kindly, benevolent, and even, whatever one may say, more sincere than any other nation; but they are fickle and flighty. The feelings which they express towards you are genuine; but these feelings are no sooner come than they are gone. When you converse with them, they are full of you; as soon as you are out of their sight, they forget you. Nothing is permanent in their hearts; with them everything is the work of the morment. Jean-Jacques Rousseau ： The Confessions 所谓真实性： Anyone is at liberty to judge of that as he pleases, and learnedly prove that it is not true. My duty is to state the truth, not to make people believe it. Jean-Jacques Rousseau ： The Confessions 为什么我疏于交际和表达谢意： Although I was greatly indebted to all these worthy people, I afterwards neglected them all, not certainly from ingratitude, but owing to my unconquerable idleness, which has often made me appear ungrateful. The remberance of their kindnesses has never left my heart, but it would have been easier for me to prove my gratitude by deeds than to express it continually in words. Regularity in correspondence has always been beyond my strength: as soon as I begin to feel slack, shame and a feeling of embarrassment in repairing my fault make me aggravate it, and I leave off writing altogether. I have therefore kept silence, as if I had forgotten them. Jean-Jacques Rousseau ： The Confessions 写作的目的： I might have thrown myself entirely into the most lucrative path, and, instead of lowering my pen to copying, I might have devoted it entirely to writings, which, in the flight which I had taken, and which I felt myself capable of continuing, might have enabled me to live in opulence, even in luxury, if only I had been disposed to combine, in the smallest degree, an authors tricks with carefulness to produce good books. But I felt that writing for bread would soon have stifled my genius and destroyed my talents, which were more those of the heart than of the pen, and arose solely from a proud and elevated manner of thinking, which alone could support them. Nothing great, nothing vigorous can proceed from a pen that is entirely venal. Necessity, perhaps avarice, might have led me to write with greater rapidity than excellence. If the need of success had not plunged me into cabals, it might have made me strive to say what might please the multitude, rather than what was true and useful, and instead of a distinguished author which which I might possibly become, I should have ended in becoming nothing but a mere scribbler. No, no! I have always felt that the position of an author is not and cannot be distinguished or respectable, except in so far as it is not profession. It is too difficult to think nobly, when one thinks only in order to live. In order to be able and to venture to utter great truths, one must not be dependent upon success. Jean-Jacques Rousseau ： The Confessions
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