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MY TWENTY-FIRST BIRTHDAY.
Books and dreams, like the two rivers cited by my father, flowed side by side in me without mixing; and which the bright Rhone was, which the brown Arve, needs not to be told to those who know anything of youth; they were destined to intermingle soon enough.

I read well, for I felt ground and had mounting views; the real world, and the mind and passions of the world, grew visible to me.

My tutor pleased the squire immensely by calling me matter-of-fact.

In philosophy and history I hated speculation; but nothing was too fantastic for my ideas of possible occurrences.