ime that preceded or
followed it, I only recollect by intervals, unequally and confused; but
here I remember all as distinctly as if it existed at this moment.
Imagination, which in my youth was perpetually anticipating the future,
but now takes a retrograde course, makes some amends by these charming
recollections for the deprivation of hope, which I have lost forever.
I no longer see anything in the future that can tempt my wishes, it is a
recollection of the past alone that can flatter me, and the remembrance
of the period I am now describing is so true and lively, that it
sometimes makes me happy, even in spite of my misfortunes.

Of these recollections I shall relate one example, which may give some
idea of their force and precision. The first day we went to sleep at
Charmettes, the way being up-hill, and Madam de Warrens rather heavy, she
was carried in a chair, while I followed on foot. Fearing the chairmen
would be fatigued, she got out about half-way, designing to walk the rest
of it. As we passed along, she saw something blue in the hedge, and
said, "There's some periwinkle in flower yet!" I had never seen any
before, nor did I stop to examine this: my sight is too short to
distinguish plants on the ground, and I only cast a look at this as I
passed: an interval of near thirty years had elapsed before I saw any
more periwinkle, at least before I observed it, when being at Cressier in
1764, with my friend, M. du Peyrou, we went up a small mountain, on the
summit of which there is a level spot, called, with reason, 'Belle--vue',
I was then beginning to herbalize;--walking and looking among the bushes,
I exclaimed with rapture, "Ah, there's some periwinkle!" Du Peyrou, who
perceived my transport, was ignorant of the cause, but will some day be
informed: I hope, on reading this. The reader may judge by this
impression, made by so small an incident, what an effect must have been
produced by every occurrence of that time.

Meantime, the air of the country did not restore my health; I was
languishing and became more so; I could not endure milk, and was obliged
to discontinue the use of it. Water was at this time the fashionable
remedy for every complaint; accordingly I entered on a course of it, and
so indiscreetly, that it almost released me, not only from my illness but
also from my life. The water I drank was rather hard and difficult to
pass, as water from mountains generally is; in short, I managed so we