308 
BRAMBLES AND BAY LEAVES. 
time : the evening was calm, quiet, and serene. The sun 
was setting in glory, spreading his sheeted fires over the 
unrippled surface of the lake, staining the water with 
Tyrian dyes. The friends sat on a mossy bank, enjoy¬ 
ing the calm scene, and conversing upon the varied 
phases of human life, in the unaffected sincerity of true 
friendship. At their feet w r as a bright tuft of the lovely 
Germander speedwell, covered with a profusion of bril¬ 
liant blue blossoms. Rosseau^s friend pointed to the 
little flower, the Veronica cJiamoedrys , as wearing the 
same expression of cheerfulness and innocency as the 
scene before them. Thirty years passed away! Care¬ 
worn, persecuted, disappointed, acquainted with poverty 
and grief, known to fame, but a stranger to peace, Eos- 
seau again visited Geneva. On such a calm and lovely 
evening as, thirty years before, he had conversed with the 
friend of his bosom, and had received a teaching from 
the simple beauty of a flower, he again was seated on the 
selfsame spot. The scene was the same. The sun was 
setting; the birds sung cheerfully; the western sky 
glowed like fire; the waters of the lake were skimmed by 
glittering boats. But the house wherein the first feel¬ 
ing of love and friendship, and the first fruits of his 
genius had budded, was now levelled with the ground. 
His dearest friend was sleeping in the grave. The gene¬ 
ration of villagers who had partaken of the bounty of 
the same beneficent hand was passed away, and none re¬ 
mained to point out the green sod where that benefactor 
lay. He walked on pensively; the same bank, tufted 
with the same knot of bright-eyed speedwell, caught his 
eye. The memories of past years of trouble and sorrow 
