Of these recollections I shall relate one example, which may give some idea of their force and precision.  The first day we went to sleep at Charmettes, the way being up-hill, and Madam de Warrens rather heavy, she was carried in a chair, while I followed on foot.  Fearing the chairmen would be fatigued, she got out about half-way, designing to walk the rest of it.  As we passed along, she saw something blue in the hedge, and said, “There’s some periwinkle in flower yet!” I had never seen any before, nor did I stop to examine this:  my sight is too short to distinguish plants on the ground, and I only cast a look at this as I passed:  an interval of near thirty years had elapsed before I saw any more periwinkle, at least before I observed it, when being at Cressier in 1764, with my friend, M. du Peyrou, we went up a small mountain, on the summit of which there is a level spot, called, with reason, ‘Belle—­vue’, I was then beginning to herbalize;—­walking and looking among the bushes, I exclaimed with rapture, “Ah, there’s some periwinkle!” Du Peyrou, who perceived my transport, was ignorant of the cause, but will some day be informed:  I hope, on reading this.  The reader may judge by this impression, made by so small an incident, what an effect must have been produced by every occurrence of that time.

Meantime, the air of the country did not restore my health; I was languishing and became more so; I could not endure milk, and was obliged to discontinue the use of it.  Water was at this time the fashionable remedy for every complaint; accordingly I entered on a course of it, and so indiscreetly, that it almost released me, not only from my illness but also from my life.  The water I drank was rather hard and difficult to pass, as water from mountains generally is; in short, I managed so well, that in the coarse of two months I totally ruined my stomach, which until that time had been very good, and no longer digesting anything properly, had no reason to expect a cure.  At this time an accident happened, as singular in itself as in its subsequent consequences, which can only terminate with my existence.

One morning, being no worse than usual, while putting up the leaf of a small table, I felt a sudden and almost inconceivable revolution throughout my whole frame.  I know not how to describe it better than as a kind of tempest, which suddenly rose in my blood, and spread in a moment over every part of my body.  My arteries began beating so violently that I not only felt their motion, but even heard it, particularly that of the carotids, attended by a loud noise in my ears, which was of three, or rather four, distinct kinds.  For instance, first a grave hollow buzzing; then a more distinct murmur, like the running of water; then an extremely sharp hissing, attended by the beating I before mentioned, and whose throbs I could easily count, without feeling my pulse, or putting a hand to any part of my body.  This internal tumult was so violent that it has injured my auricular organs, and rendered me, from that time, not entirely deaf, but hard of hearing.