The more I considered the proposed undertaking, and the further Iadvanced in the examination of the papers I had in my hands, thegreater I found the necessity of studying, in the country, thepeople for whom institutions were to be made, the soil they inhabited,and all the relative circumstances by which it was necessary toappropriate to them that institution.I daily perceived more clearlythe impossibility of acquiring at a distance all the informationnecessary to guide me.This I wrote to M.Buttafuoco, and he felt itas I did.Although I did not form the precise resolution of going toCorsica, I considered a good deal of the means necessary to makethat voyage.I mentioned it to M.Dastier, who having formerlyserved in the island under M.de Maillebois, was necessarilyacquainted with it.He used every effort to dissuade me from thisintention, and I confess the frightful description he gave me of theCorsicans and their country, considerably abated the desire I had ofgoing to live amongst them.
But when the persecutions of Motiers made me think of quittingSwitzerland, this desire was again strengthened by the hope of atlength finding amongst these islanders the repose refused me inevery other place.One thing only alarmed me, which was my unfitnessfor the active life to which I was going to be condemned, and theaversion I had always had to it.My disposition, proper for meditatingat leisure and in solitude, was not so for speaking and acting, andtreating of affairs with men.Nature, which had endowed me with thefirst talent, had refused me the last.Yet I felt that, even withouttaking a direct and active part in public affairs, I should as soon asI was in Corsica, be under the necessity of yielding to the desires ofthe people, and of frequently conferring with the chiefs.The objecteven of the voyage required that, instead of seeking retirement, Ishould in the heart of the country endeavor to gain the information ofwhich I stood in need.It was certain that I should no longer bemaster of my own time, and that, in spite of myself, precipitated intothe vortex in which I was not born to move, I should there lead a lifecontrary to my inclination, and never appear but to disadvantage.Iforesaw, that, ill supporting by my presence the opinion my booksmight have given the Corsicans of my capacity, I should lose myreputation amongst them, and, as much to their prejudice as my own, bedeprived of the confidence they had in me, without which, however, Icould not successfully produce the work they expected from my pen.Iwas certain that, by thus going out of my sphere, I should becomeuseless to the inhabitants, and render myself unhappy.
Tormented, beaten by storms from every quarter, and, for severalyears past, fatigued by journeys and persecution, I strongly felt awant of the repose of which my barbarous enemies wantonly deprived me:
I sighed more than ever after that delicious indolence, that softtranquillity of body and mind, which I had so much desired, and towhich, now that I had recovered from the chimeras of love andfriendship, my heart limited its supreme felicity.I viewed withterror the work I was about to undertake; the tumultuous life intowhich I was to enter made me tremble, and if the grandeur, beauty, andutility of the object animated my courage, the impossibility ofconquering so many difficulties entirely deprived me of it.
Twenty years of profound meditation in solitude would have been lesspainful to me than an active life of six months in the midst of menand public affairs, with a certainty of not succeeding in myundertaking.
I thought of an expedient which seemed proper to obviate everydifficulty.Pursued by the underhand dealings of my secret persecutorsto every place in which I took refuge, and seeing no other exceptCorsica where I could in my old days hope for the repose I had untilthen been everywhere deprived of, I resolved to go there with thedirections of M.Buttafuoco as soon as this was possible, but tolive there in tranquillity; renouncing, in appearance, everythingrelative to legislation, and, in some measure to make my hosts areturn for their hospitality, to confine myself to writing in thecountry the history of the Corsicans, with a reserve in my own mind ofthe intention of secretly acquiring the necessary information tobecome more useful to them should I see a probability of success.Inthis manner, by not entering into an engagement, I hoped to be enabledbetter to meditate in secret and more at my ease, a plan which mightbe useful to their purpose, and this without much breaking in uponmy dearly beloved solitude, or submitting to a kind of life which Ihad ever found insupportable.
But the journey was not, in my situation, a thing so easy to getover.According to what M.Dastier had told me of Corsica, I could notexpect to find there the most simple conveniences of life, except suchas I should take with me; linen, clothes, plate, kitchen furniture,and books, all were to be conveyed thither.To get there myself withmy gouvernante, I had the Alps to cross, and in a journey of twohundred leagues to drag after me all my baggage; I had also to passthrough the states of several sovereigns, and according to the exampleset to all Europe, I had, after what had befallen me, naturally toexpect to find obstacles in every quarter, and that each sovereignwould think he did himself honor by overwhelming me with some newinsult, and violating in my person all the rights of persons andhumanity.The immense expense, fatigue, and risk of such a journeymade a previous consideration of them, and weighing everydifficulty, the first step necessary.The idea of being alone, and, atmy age, without resource, far removed from all my acquaintance, and atthe mercy of these semi-barbarous and ferocious people, such as M.
