e du Chatelet, with as
much profit as pleasure. It is certain that the interesting and sensible
conversation of a deserving woman is more proper to form the
understanding of a young man than all the pedantic philosophy of books.
I got acquainted at the Chasattes with some other boarders and their
friends, and among the rest, with a young person of fourteen, called
Mademoiselle Serre, whom I did not much notice at that time, though I was
in love with her eight or nine years afterwards, and with great reason,
for she was a most charming girl.

I was fully occupied with the idea of seeing Madam de Warrens, and this
gave some respite to my chimeras, for finding happiness in real objects
I was the less inclined to seek it in nonentities. I had not only found
her, but also by her means, and near her, an agreeable situation, having
sent me word that she had procured one that would suit me, and by which I
should not be obliged to quit her. I exhausted all my conjectures in
guessing what this occupation could be, but I must have possessed the art
of divination to have hit it on the right. I had money sufficient to
make my journey agreeable: Mademoiselle du Chatelet persuaded me to hire
a horse, but this I could not consent to, and I was certainly right,
for by so doing I should have lost the pleasure of the last pedestrian
expedition I ever made; for I cannot give that name to those excursions I
have frequently taken about my own neighborhood, while I lived at
Motiers.

It is very singular that my imagination never rises so high as when my
situation is least agreeable or cheerful. When everything smiles around
me, I am least amused; my heart cannot confine itself to realities,
cannot embellish, but must create. Real objects strike me as they really
are, my imagination can only decorate ideal ones. If I would paint the
spring, it must be in winter; if describe a beautiful landscape, it must
be while surrounded with walls; and I have said a hundred times, that
were I confined in the Bastile, I could draw the most enchanting picture
of liberty. On my departure from Lyons, I saw nothing but an agreeable
future, the content I now with reason enjoyed was as great as my
discontent had been at leaving Paris, notwithstanding, I had not during
this journey any of those delightful reveries I then enjoyed. My mind
was serene, and that was all; I drew near the excellent friend I was
going to see, my heart overflowing with tendernes