full of princesses, palaces, and castles, and in great hopes that some fortunate adventure would present a more brilliant prospect than the one before him. None occurred. He arrived at Annecy; he saw madame de Warens; and in her and her kindness found embodied one of those romances of real life, which, if of less fairy and glittering hue to the eye, are equally magic-like to the heart, and do not less serve to alter the course of existence, and to metamorphose the soul. The comtesse de Warens was a native of Vevay, in the Pays de Vaud: she had married when very young; and having no children, and not being happy in her marriage, she took occasion, when the king of Savoy, Victor Amadeo, was at Evian, to cross the lake, throw herself at his feet, and claim his protection as a convert to Catholicism. The king, who was zealous in the cause of his religion, received her graciously, and settled on her a pension of 1500 Piedmontese livres. She was much loved at Vevay, and there was some danger of her being rescued against her will: to preserve his proselyte, the king was obliged to have her escorted to Annecy by a detachment of guards; where, under the direction of the titular bishop of Geneva, she abjured protestantism. She had lived for six years at Annecy, and was eight and twenty, when Rousseau first saw her. She was beautiful, and, above all, an expression of angelic sweetness and benevolence beamed in her face, that inspired him at once with hope, confidence, and gratitude. She felt the folly of the step he had taken; but, surrounded by priests and spies, she feared to show compassion, or to give him good advice; the few words she did say, to induce him to return to his father, were of no avail. Yet it was not easy to find the means of subsistence for him. At length one of her guests proposed that he should go to Turin, and enter the hospital established for the instruction of proselytes, where he could remain until his abjuration, when it might be supposed some charitable person would come forward to his assistance. Sad and humble was the prospect held out; but there appeared to be no other resource except to return to Geneva,--an alternative he obstinately rejected. Some respectable persons were found who were going to Turin, and he accompanied them. The journey was performed on foot, and lasted nine days--nine happy days--when casting away all thought of the future, unincumbered by luggage, his expenses attended to by others, he wandered among the valleys of the Alps, crossed their summits, and beheld the happy garden which Piedmont presents to the traveller, just emerging from the snows of Savoy. The recollection of this delightful journey often made him wish to renew it in after life--and a pedestrian tour always appeared to him one of the chief happinesses of existence.