LETTER XXVII.
Geneva.
The morning of the day on which we departed from Prieuré, I observed a girl of a very singular appearance sitting before the door of one of the houses. When I spoke to her, she made no answer: But an elderly man, who had been a soldier in the king of Sardinia’s service, and my acquaintance since the moment of our arrival, informed me, that this girl was an idiot, and had been so from her birth.
He took me to two other houses in the village, in each of which there was one person in the same melancholy situation; and he assured me, that all over the valley of Chamouni, in a family consisting of five or six children, one of them, generally speaking, was a perfect natural.
This was confirmed by some others, to whom I afterwards mentioned it. I was told at the same time, that the parents, so far from considering this as a misfortune, looked upon it as an indication of good luck to the rest of the family, and no unhappiness to the individual, whom they always cherish and protect with the utmost tenderness.
I asked my soldier, if any of his own family were in that situation? Non, Monsieur, answered he; et aussi j’ai passé une vie bien dure.
Don’t you think these poor creatures very unhappy?
Demande pardon, Monsieur:—Ils sont très heureux—