Perhaps he could have managed the dates, for he was quick at figures, but the facts were like bees in their hive,--he could scarcely tell one from another by looking at them.
So it was that Jean Jacques kept turning his eyes, as he thought, to the everlasting meaning of things, to "the laws of Life and the decrees of Destiny." He was one of those who had found, as he thought, what he could do, and was sensible enough to do it.

Let the poor fellows, who gave themselves to science, trouble their twisted minds with trigonometry and the formula of some grotesque chemical combination; let the dull people rub their noses in the ink of Greek and Latin, which was no use for everyday consumption; let the heads of historians ache with the warring facts of the lives of nations; it all made for sleep.

But philosophy--ah, there was a field where a man could always use knowledge got from books or sorted out of his own experiences! It happened, therefore, that Jean Jacques, who not too vaguely realized that there was reputation to be got from being thought a philosopher, always carried about with him his little compendium from the quay at Quebec, which he had brought ashore inside his redflannel shirt, with the antique silver watch, when the Antoine went down.
Thus also it was that when a lawyer in court at Vilray, four miles from St.Saviour's, asked him one day, when he stepped into the witness-box, what he was, meaning what was his occupation, his reply was, "Moi-je suis M'sieu' Jean Jacques, philosophe--( Me--I am M'sieu' Jean Jacques, philosopher)." A little later outside the court-house, the Judge who had tried the case--M.

Carcasson--said to the Clerk of the Court: "A curious, interesting little man, that Monsieur Jean Jacques.

What's his history ?" "A character, a character, monsieur le juge," was the reply of M.Amand Fille.