L^e and Writings of Francis Huber. 119 



rural concerns. This regimen was completely successful, and Ru- 

 ber retained, from this countr)'- residence, not only confirmed health, 

 but a tender recollection and a decided taste for a rural life. He 

 loved to narrate the hospitality of these good peasants, their mother 

 wit, their kindness towards him, and the tears which flowed on his 

 taking leave of them, not only from his own eyes, but from those of 

 his male, and also, as it is said, his female acquaintance among the 

 villagers. 



The oculist Venzel considered the state of his eyes as incurable, 

 and he did not think it justifiable to hazard an operation for cataract, 

 then less understood than at present, and announced to young Huber 

 the probability of an approaching and entire blindness. 



His eyes, however, notwithstanding their weakness, had, before 

 his departure and after his return, met- those of Maria- Aimee Lullin, 

 a daughter of one of the syndics of the Swiss Republic. They had 

 been companions at the lessons of the dancing master, and such a 

 mutual love was cherished as the age of seventeen is apt to produce. 

 It had become almost a part of their existence, and neither of them 

 thought it possible that any thing could separate them. The con- 

 stantly increasing probability, however, of the blindness of Huber, 

 decided M. Lullin to refuse his consent to the union ; but as the 

 misfortune of her friend and chosen companion became more cer- 

 tain, the more did Maria regard herself as pledged never to abandon 

 him. She had become attached to him at first through love, then 

 through generosity and a sort of heroism, and she resolved to wait 

 until she had attained the lawful age to decide for herself, (the age 

 of twenty five,) and then to unite herself with Huber. The latter 

 perceiving the risk which his infirmity would probably occasion to 

 his hopes, endeavored to dissimulate. As long as he could discern 

 some hght, he acted and spoke as if he could see, and often beguil- 

 ed his own misfortune by such a confidence. The seven years thus 

 spent made such an impression on him that during the rest of his 

 life, even when his blindness had been overcome with such surprising 

 ability as to furnish one of his claims to celebrity, he was still fond 

 of dissembling ; he would boast of the beauty of a landscape, which 

 he knew of only by hearsay, or by simple recollection — the elegance 

 of a dress — or the fair complexion of a female whose voice pleased 

 him ; and in his conversation, in his letters, and even in his books, 

 he would say, / have seen, I have seen with my own eyes. These 

 expressions, which deceived neither himself nor any one else, wer.e 



