I was born at Geneva, in 1712, son of Isaac Rousseau and Susannah Bernard, citizens.  My father’s share of a moderate competency, which was divided among fifteen children, being very trivial, his business of a watchmaker (in which he had the reputation of great ingenuity) was his only dependence.  My mother’s circumstances were more affluent; she was daughter of a Mons. Bernard, minister, and possessed a considerable share of modesty and beauty; indeed, my father found some difficulty in obtaining her hand.

The affection they entertained for each other was almost as early as their existence; at eight or nine years old they walked together every evening on the banks of the Treille, and before they were ten, could not support the idea of separation.  A natural sympathy of soul confined those sentiments of predilection which habit at first produced; born with minds susceptible of the most exquisite sensibility and tenderness, it was only necessary to encounter similar dispositions; that moment fortunately presented itself, and each surrendered a willing heart.

The obstacles that opposed served only to give a decree of vivacity to their affection, and the young lover, not being able to obtain his mistress, was overwhelmed with sorrow and despair.  She advised him to travel—­to forget her.  He consented—­he travelled, but returned more passionate than ever, and had the happiness to find her equally constant, equally tender.  After this proof of mutual affection, what could they resolve?—­to dedicate their future lives to love! the resolution was ratified with a vow, on which Heaven shed its benediction.

Fortunately, my mother’s brother, Gabriel Bernard, fell in love with one of my father’s sisters; she had no objection to the match, but made the marriage of his sister with her brother an indispensable preliminary.  Love soon removed every obstacle, and the two weddings were celebrated the same day:  thus my uncle became the husband of my aunt, and their children were doubly cousins german.  Before a year was expired, both had the happiness to become fathers, but were soon after obliged to submit to a separation.

My uncle Bernard, who was an engineer, went to serve in the empire and Hungary, under Prince Eugene, and distinguished himself both at the siege and battle of Belgrade.  My father, after the birth of my only brother, set off, on recommendation, for Constantinople, and was appointed watchmaker to the Seraglio.  During his absence, the beauty, wit, and accomplishments—­

[They were too brilliant for her situation, the minister, her father, having bestowed great pains on her education.  She was aught drawing, singing, and to play on the theorbo; had learning, and wrote very agreeable verses.  The following is an extempore piece which she composed in the absence of her husband and brother, in a conversation with some person relative to them, while walking with