t was now that I regretted the early years which had been wasted
in sickness or idleness, or mere idle reading; that I condemned the
perverse method of our schoolmasters, who, by first teaching the
mother-language, might descend with so much ease and perspicuity to the
origin and etymology of a derivative idiom. In the nineteenth year of
my age I determined to supply this defect; and the lessons of Pavilliard
again contributed to smooth the entrance of the way, the Greek alphabet,
the grammar, and the pronunciation according to the French accent. At my
earnest request we presumed to open the Iliad; and I had the pleasure of
beholding, though darkly and through a glass, the true image of Homer,
whom I had long since admired in an English dress. After my tutor had
left me to myself, I worked my way through about half the Iliad, and
afterwards interpreted alone a large portion of Xenophon and Herodotus.
But my ardour, destitute of aid and emulation, was gradually cooled,
and, from the barren task of searching words in a lexicon, I withdrew
to the free and familiar conversation of Virgil and Tacitus. Yet in my
residence at Lausanne I had laid a solid foundation, which enabled
me, in a more propitious season, to prosecute the study of Grecian
literature.

From a blind idea of the usefulness of such abstract science, my father
had been desirous, and even pressing, that I should devote some time to
the mathematics; nor could I refuse to comply with so reasonable a
wish. During two winters I attended the private lectures of Monsieur de
Traytorrens, who explained the elements of algebra and geometry, as
far as the conic sections of the Marquis de l'Hopital, and appeared
satisfied with my diligence and improvement. But as my childish
propensity for numbers and calculations was totally extinct, I was
content to receive the passive impression of my Professor's lectures,
without any active exercise of my own powers. As soon as I understood
the principles, I relinquished for ever the pursuit of the mathematics;
nor can I lament that I desisted, before my mind was hardened by the
habit of rigid demonstration, so destructive of the finer feelings of
moral evidence, which must, however, determine the actions and opinions
of our lives. I listened with more pleasure to the proposal of studying
the law of nature and nations, which was taught in the academy of
Lausanne by Mr. Vicat, a professor of some learning and reputation. But
instead o