l
nature, whose beauties were so charmingly spread out before me! I never
love to pray in a chamber; it seems to me that the walls and all the
little workmanship of man interposed between God and myself: I love to
contemplate Him in his works, which elevate my soul, and raise my
thoughts to Him. My prayers were pure, I can affirm it, and therefore
worthy to be heard:--I asked for myself and her from whom my thoughts
were never divided, only an innocent and quiet life, exempt from vice,
sorrow and want; I prayed that we might die the death of the just, and
partake of their lot hereafter: for the rest, it was rather admiration
and contemplation than request, being satisfied that the best means to
obtain what is necessary from the Giver of every perfect good, is rather
to deserve than to solicit. Returning from my walk, I lengthened the way
by taking a roundabout path, still contemplating with earnestness and
delight the beautiful scenes with which I was surrounded, those only
objects that never fatigue either the eye or the heart. As I approached
our habitation, I looked forward to see if Madam de Warrens was stirring,
and when I perceived her shutters open, I even ran with joy towards the
house: if they were yet shut I went into the garden to wait their
opening, amusing myself, meantime, by a retrospection of what I had read
the preceding evening, or in gardening. The moment the shutter drew back
I hastened to embrace her, frequently half asleep; and this salute, pure
as it was affectionate, even from its innocence, possessed a charm which
the senses can never bestow. We usually breakfasted on milk-coffee; this
was the time of day when we had most leisure, and when we chatted with
the greatest freedom. These sittings, which were usually pretty long,
have given me a fondness for breakfasts, and I infinitely prefer those of
England, or Switzerland, which are considered as a meal, at which all the
family assemble, than those of France, where they breakfast alone in
their several apartments, or more frequently have none at all. After an
hour or two passed in discourse, I went to my study till dinner;
beginning with some philosophical work, such as the logic of Port-Royal,
Locke's Essays, Mallebranche, Leibtnitz, Descartes, etc. I soon found
that these authors perpetually contradict each other, and formed the
chimerical project of reconciling them, which cost me much labor and loss
of time, bewildering my head without