Continued from yesterday’s post — footnotes and references are below the fold:

The correspondence between Dr Theodore Tronchin and Jean-Jacques Rousseau resumed in the spring of 1759, when the Swiss philosopher wrote to the doctor in Geneva asking for medical advice on behalf of two neighbors in Montmorency, France, where Rousseau was residing at the time. [1] Dr Tronchin dutifully replied to Rousseau on 17 April 1759. Among other things, the medical doctor reproaches the Swiss philosopher in a playful tone for not writing more often, ending his letter by asking, “How is it that the friend of humanity is hardly any longer the friend of men?” [2]

Alas, as Dr Tronchin — and later, the world during the Hume-Rousseau debacle — was about to discover, Rousseau was one of the most megalomaniacal, thin-skinned, and touchy moral and political philosophers of all time, an insecure introvert quick to take offense at the slightest perceived provocation, for Rousseau replied to Tronchin on 28 April 1759 as follows:

You accuse me of indifference to men, and you use the sweetest of words to name me. In order to answer you, Monsieur [note: Rousseau does not refer to his interlocutor as “doctor”], I must ask you in turn by what standards you judge me. Your manner of questioning me resembles that used in the interrogation of the wretched victims of the Inquisition. If I have secret accusers, tell me who they are, and of what they accuse me; then I will answer you. In the meantime, of what do I accuse myself? [3]

It gets worse, for Rousseau not only blows Tronchin’s playful reproach (“how is it that the friend of humanity is hardly any longer the friend of men?”) out of all reasonable proportion; he then goes on to say in a most scathing and sarcastic tone:

I congratulate you heartily on your good life, on your health, on your friends, and if I have none of these things, it is a misfortune and not a crime. Such as I am, I complain neither of my fate nor of my condition. I am the friend of the human race, and men are found everywhere. The friend of truth also finds ill-wishers everywhere, and I do not need to come far to meet them…. I prefer to live among the French rather than seek out enemies in Geneva. In a place where smart wits [i.e. Voltaire] are fêted, J.-J. Rousseau will hardly be fêted, and if he were, he would hardly glory in it. [4]

In some ways, the Swiss philosopher’s swift but indignant reply would foreshadow the more famous “philosophers quarrel” between David Hume and himself that would occur a few years later in 1766. He not only refers to himself in the third person — a true sign of a megalomaniac — he also sees “enemies in Geneva” as well as “ill-wishers” and imagined conspiracies “everywhere.” [5] Rousseau also concludes his missive by raising the stakes of their dispute in melodramatic fashion: “O worthy Tronchin. Let us both stay where we are. You may still honour your country. For me, it remains only to weep for it.” [6]

For his part, Dr Tronchin promptly replied to Rousseau’s accusations on 7 May 1759, and he (Tronchin) did not pull any punches: “You have wounded my soul, and my soul did not deserve the least injury from you.” [7] Furthermore, he called out Rousseau’s self-righteous indignation as unworthy of the Swiss philosopher and fought back with these words: “the most profound humility is the only state suited to man: the philosophers are absurd.” [8] But Dr Tronchin saved his most biting reply for last: “I pity clever men.” [9]

The back-and-forth between Rousseau and Tronchin would continue for several more rounds, but to make a long story short, it turns out that Rousseau did indeed have a valid reason, after all, to suspect Tronchin of engaging in a mean-spirited and nefarious smear campaign behind the scenes in Geneva, for at that very moment in time Dr Tronchin and Voltaire were, in fact, conspiring together to ridicule Rousseau and ruin his reputation … [10] (To be continued.)

[1] See Cranston 1991, p. 163. For reference, Rousseau’s 23 March 1759 letter to Tronchin is reprinted in Volume 6 of R. A. Leigh, editor, Correspondance complète de J.-J. Rousseau, p. 743. See Cranston 1991, p. 376 n.20, citing “BPUG, Archives Tronchin 165, ff.10-11 (CC, VI, 792)”.

[2] Again, see Cranston 1991, p. 163. Dr Tronchin’s 17 April 1759 reply to Rousseau is reprinted in Vol. 6 of Correspondance complète de J.-J. Rousseau, cited above. See Cranston 1991, p. 376 n.21, citing “17.4.1759. BPUN, MS R303, ff.64-5 (CC, VI, 794)”.

[3] See Cranston 1991, pp. 163-164. For reference, Rousseau’s 28 April 1759 reply letter to Dr Tronchin is reprinted in Vol. 6 of Correspondance complète de J.-J. Rousseau, cited above. See Cranston 1991, p. 376 n.22, citing “BPUG, Archives Tronchin 165, ff.13-14 (CC, VI, 801)”.

[4], [5], & [6] Ibid.

[7] See Cranston 1991, p. 164. Dr Tronchin’s 7 May 1759 reply letter to Rousseau is reprinted in Vol. 6 of Correspondance complète de J.-J. Rousseau, cited above. See Cranston 1991, p. 376n.23: 7.5.1759. BPUN, MS R303, ff.66-7 (CC, VI, 811)”.

[8] & [9] Ibid.

[10] As an aside (for now), considering that Adam Smith was in close contact with Tronchin and Voltaire during his sojourn in Switzerland (1765-66), was Smith aware of their mean-spirited conspiracy against Rousseau, and if so, whose side was he on, his fellow philosopher’s or the conspirators’? Rest assured that Alain Alcouffe and I will address these intriguing questions in our next post.