power to pay it instantly; I could never bear to contract clamorous
debts, and have ever preferred suffering to owing.

Being reduced to pass my nights in the streets, may certainly be called
suffering, and this was several times the case at Lyons, having preferred
buying bread with the few pence I had remaining, to bestowing them on a
lodging; as I was convinced there was less danger of dying for want of
sleep than of hunger. What is astonishing, while in this unhappy
situation, I took no care for the future, was neither uneasy nor
melancholy, but patiently waited an answer to Mademoiselle du Chatelet's
letter, and lying in the open air, stretched on the earth, or on a bench,
slept as soundly as if reposing on a bed of roses. I remember,
particularly, to have passed a most delightful night at some distance
from the city, in a road which had the Rhone, or Soane, I cannot
recollect which, on the one side, and a range of raised gardens, with
terraces, on the other. It had been a very hot day, the evening was
delightful, the dew moistened the fading grass, no wind was stirring,
the air was fresh without chillness, the setting sun had tinged the
clouds with a beautiful crimson, which was again reflected by the water,
and the trees that bordered the terrace were filled with nightingales who
were continually answering each other's songs. I walked along in a kind
of ecstasy, giving up my heart and senses to the enjoyment of so many
delights, and sighing only from a regret of enjoying them alone.
Absorbed in this pleasing reverie, I lengthened my walk till it grew very
late, without perceiving I was tired; at length, however, I discovered
it, and threw myself on the step of a kind of niche, or false door,
in the terrace wall. How charming was the couch! the trees formed a
stately canopy, a nightingale sat directly over me, and with his soft
notes lulled me to rest: how pleasing my repose; my awaking more so.
It was broad day; on opening my eyes I saw the water, the verdure, and