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The world was to me a secret which I desired to divine.

Curiosity, earnest research to learn the hidden laws of nature,

gladness akin to rapture, as they were unfolded to me, are among

the earliest sensations I can remember.

On the birth of a second son, my junior by seven years, my

parents gave up entirely their wandering life and fixed

themselves in their native country. We possessed a house in

Geneva, and a campagne on Belrive, the eastern shore of the lake,

at the distance of rather more than a league from the city. We

resided principally in the latter, and the lives of my parents

were passed in considerable seclusion. It was my temper to avoid

a crowd and to attach myself fervently to a few. I was

indifferent, therefore, to my school-fellows in general; but I

united myself in the bonds of the closest friendship to one among

them. Henry Clerval was the son of a merchant of Geneva. He was a

boy of singular talent and fancy. He loved enterprise, hardship,

and even danger for its own sake. He was deeply read in books of

chivalry and romance. He composed heroic songs and began to write

many a tale of enchantment and knightly adventure.