scarcely begun to go out before my heart, my head, and my feet returned
to the same paths. I say the same in certain respects; for my ideas,
rather less exalted, remained this time upon earth, but yet were busied
in making so exquisite a choice of all that was to be found there amiable
of every kind, that it was not much less chimerical than the imaginary
world I had abandoned.

I figured to myself love and friendship, the two idols of my heart, under
the most ravishing images. I amused myself in adorning them with all the
charms of the sex I had always adored. I imagined two female friends
rather than two of my own sex, because, although the example be more
rare, it is also more amiable. I endowed them with different characters,
but analogous to their connection, with two faces, not perfectly
beautiful, but according to my taste, and animated with benevolence and
sensibility. I made one brown and the other fair, one lively and the
other languishing, one wise and the other weak, but of so amiable a
weakness that it seemed to add a charm to virtue. I gave to one of the
two a lover, of whom the other was the tender friend, and even something
more, but I did not admit either rivalry, quarrels, or jealousy: because
every painful sentiment is painful for me to imagine, and I was unwilling
to tarnish this delightful picture by anything which was degrading to
nature. Smitten with my two charming models, I drew my own portrait in
the lover and the friend, as much as it was possible to do it; but I made
him young and amiable, giving him, at the same time, the virtues and the
defects which I felt in myself.

That I might place my characters in a residence proper for them, I
successively passed in review the most beautiful places I had seen in my
travels. But I found no grove sufficiently delightful, no landscape that
pleased me. The valleys of Thessaly would have satisfied me had I but