rit of chivalry, and is interwoven with the texture of French
manners. I understand by this passion the union of desire, friendship,
and tenderness, which is inflamed by a single female, which prefers her
to the rest of her sex, and which seeks her possession as the supreme
or the sole happiness of our being. I need not blush at recollecting the
object of my choice; and though my love was disappointed of success,
I am rather proud that I was once capable of feeling such a pure and
exalted sentiment. The personal attractions of Mademoiselle Susan
Curchod were embellished by the virtues and talents of the mind. Her
fortune was humble, but her family was respectable. Her mother, a native
of France, had preferred her religion to her country. The profession
of her father did not extinguish the moderation and philosophy of his
temper, and he lived content with a small salary and laborious duty, in
the obscure lot of minister of Crassy, in the mountains that separate
the Pays de Vaud from the county of Burgundy. In the solitude of a
sequestered village he bestowed a liberal, and even learned, education
on his only daughter. She surpassed his hopes by her proficiency in the
sciences and languages; and in her short visits to some relations at
Lausanne, the wit, the beauty, and erudition of Mademoiselle Curchod
were the theme of universal applause. The report of such a prodigy
awakened my curiosity; I saw and loved. I found her learned without
pedantry, lively in conversation, pure in sentiment, and elegant in
manners; and the first sudden emotion was fortified by the habits and
knowledge of a more familiar acquaintance. She permitted me to make
her two or three visits at her father's house. I passed some happy
days there, in the mountains of Burgundy, and her parents honourably
encouraged the connection. In a calm retirement the gay vanity of youth
no longer fluttered in her bosom; she listened to the voice of truth and
passion, and I might presume to hope that I had made some impression
on a virtuous heart. At Crassy and Lausanne I indulged my dream of
felicity: but on my return to England, I soon discovered that my father
would not hear of this strange alliance, and that without his consent I
was myself destitute and helpless. After a painful struggle I yielded to
my fate: I sighed as a lover, I obeyed as a son; my wound was insensibly
healed by time, absence, and the habits of a new life. My cure was
accelerated by a faithful r