fell pattering on the dry leaves, or shone like brilliants on the
grass. These hours were quickly over; the pale blue shades of evening
glided swiftly on, veiling the horizon with their cold drapery as with
a shroud. It seemed the death of Nature, dying, as youth and beauty
die, with all its charms, and all its serenity.

Scenes such as these exhibiting Nature in its languid beauty were too
much in accordance with my feelings. While they gave an additional
charm to my own languor, they increased it, and I voluntarily plunged
into an abyss of melancholy. But it was a melancholy so replete with
thoughts, impressions, and elevating desires, with so soft a twilight
of the soul, that I had no wish to shake it off. It was a malady the
very consciousness of which was an allurement, rather than a pain, and
in which Death appeared but as a voluptuous vanishing into space. I had
given myself up to the charm, and had determined to keep aloof from
society, which might have dissipated it, and in the midst of the world
to wrap myself in silence, solitude, and reserve. I used my isolation
of mind as a shroud to shut out the sight of men, so as to contemplate
God and Nature only.

Passing by Chambery, I had seen my friend, Louis de ----; I had found
him in the same state of mind as myself, disgusted with the bitterness
of life, his genius, unappreciated, the body worn out by the mind, and
all his better feelings thrown back upon his heart.

Louis had mentioned to me a quiet and secluded house, in the higher
part of the town of Aix, where invalids were admitted to board. The
establishment was conducted by a worthy old doctor (who had retired
from the profession), and communicated with the town by a narrow
pathway, which lay between the streams that issue from the hot springs.