There are people whose faces are so unmeaning, that the best painter cannot catch their likeness, and there are governments so uncharacteristic as to want no historian; but able historians will never be wanting where there is matter deserving the pen of a good writer. In short, they tell us that men are alike in all ages, that their virtues and vices are the same, and that we admire the ancients only because they are ancients. This is also false: in former times great effects were produced by trifling causes, but in our days it is just the reverse. The ancients were cotemporary with their historians, and yet we have learnt to admire them: should posterity ever admire our modern historians, they certainly will not have grounded their opinion upon ours.
Out of regard to our _constant_ companion, I consent to a few volumes of belles lettres, which I should not have recommended to you. Except Petrarch, Tasso, Metastasio, and the best French theatrical authors, I leave you none of those amorous poets, which are the common amusement of your sex. The most inspired of them all cannot teach us to love? Ah, Eloisa, we are better instructed by our own hearts! The phrases borrowed from books are cold and insipid to us who speak the language of our souls. It is a kind of reading which cramps the imagination, enervates the mind, and dims its original brightness. On the contrary, real love influences all our sentiments, and animates them with new vigour.
Letter XIII. From Eloisa.
I told you we were happy, and nothing proves it more than the uneasiness we feel upon the least change in our situation: if it were not true, why should two days separation give us so much pain? I say _us_, for I know my friend shares my impatience; he feels my uneasiness, and is unhappy upon his own account; but to tell me this were now superfluous.
We have been in the country since last night only; the hour is not yet come in which I should see you if I were in town; and yet this distance makes me already find your absence almost insupportable. If you had not prohibited geometry, I should say, that my inquietude increases in a compound ratio of the intervals of time and space; so sensible am I that the pain of absence is increased by distance. I have brought with me your letter, and your plan of study, for my meditation; I have read the first already twice over, and own I was a good deal affected with the conclusion. I perceive, my dear friend, that your passion deserves the name of real love, because you still preserve your sense of honour, and are capable of sacrificing every thing to virtue. To delude a woman in the disguise of her preceptor is surely, of all the wiles of seduction, the most unpardonable; and he must have very little resource in himself, who would attempt to move his mistress by the assistance of romance. If you had availed yourself of philosophy to forward your designs, or if you had endeavoured to establish maxims favourable to your interest, those very methods of deceit would soon have undeceived me; but you have more honesty, and are therefore more dangerous. From the first moment I perceived in my heart the least spark of love, and the desire of a lasting attachment, I petitioned heaven to unite me to a man whose soul was amiable rather than his person; for well I knew that the charms of the mind were least liable to disgust, and that probity and honour adorn every sentiment of the heart. I chose with propriety, and therefore, like Solomon, I have obtained, not only what I asked for, but also what I did not ask. I look upon this as a good omen, and I do not despair but I shall, one day, have it in my power to make my dear friend as happy as he deserves. We have indeed many obstacles to surmount, and the expedients are slow, doubtful and difficult. I dare not flatter myself too much; be assured, however, that nothing shall be forgotten which the united efforts of love and patience can accomplish. Mean while, continue to humour my mother, and prepare yourself for the return of my father, who at last retires, after thirty years services. You must learn to endure the haughtiness of a hasty old gentleman, jealous of his honour, who will love you without flattering, and esteem you without many professions.
I broke off here to take a ramble in the neighbouring woods. You, my amiable friend, you were my companion, or rather I carried thee in my heart. I sought those paths which I imagined we should have trod, and marked the shades which seemed worthy to receive us. The delightful solitude of the groves seemed to heighten our sensibility, and the woods themselves appeared to receive additional beauty from the presence of two such faithful lovers.
Amidst the natural bowers of this charming place, there is one still more beautiful than the rest, with which I am most delighted, and where, for that reason, I intend to surprize you. It must not be said that I want generosity to reward your constant respect. I would convince you, in spite of vulgar opinions, that voluntary favours are more valuable than those obtained by importunity. But lest the strength of your imagination should lead you too far, I must inform you, that we will not visit these pleasant bowers without my _constant companion_.
Now I have mentioned my cousin, I am determined, if it does not displease you, that you shall accompany her hither on Monday next. You must not fail to be with her at ten o’clock. My mother’s chaise will be there about that time; you shall spend the whole day with us, and we will return all together the next day after dinner.
I had wrote so far when I bethought myself, that I have not the same opportunity here, for the conveyance of my letter, as in town. I once had an inclination to send you one of your books by Gustin the gardener’s son, and to inclose my letter in the cover. But, as there is a possibility that you may not be aware of this contrivance, it would be unpardonably imprudent to risk our all on so precarious a bottom. I must therefore be contented to signify the intended rendezvous on Monday by a billet, and I will myself give you this letter. Besides, I was a little apprehensive lest you might comment too freely on the mystery of the bower.
Letter XIV. To Eloisa.
Ah! Eloisa, Eloisa! what have you done? You meant to requite me, and you are the cause of my ruin. I am intoxicated, or rather, I am mad. My brains are turned, all my senses are disordered by this fatal kiss. You designed to alleviate my pain; but you have cruelly increased my torment. The poison I have imbibed from your lips will destroy me, my blood boils within my veins; I shall die, and your pity will but hasten my death.
O immortal remembrance of that illusive, frantic, and enchanting moment! Never, never to be effaced so long as Eloisa lives within my soul; till my heart is deprived of all sensation thou wilt continue to be the happiness and torment of my life!
Alas! I possessed an apparent tranquility; resigned myself entirely to your supreme will, and never murmured at the fate you condescended to overrule. I had conquered the impetuous sallies of my imagination; I disguised my looks, and put a lock upon my heart; I but half expressed my desires, and was as content as possible. Thus your billet found me, and I flew to your cousin; we arrived at Clarens, my heart beat quick at the sight of my beloved Eloisa; her sweet voice caused a strange emotion; I became almost transported, and it was lucky for me that your cousin was present to engage your mother’s attention. We rambled in the garden, dined comfortably, you found an opportunity, unperceived, to give me your charming letter, which I durst not open before this formidable witness; the sun began to decline, and we hastened to the woods for the benefit of shade. Alas! I was quite happy, and I did not even conceive a state of greater bliss.
As we approached the bower, I perceived, not without a secret emotion, your significant winks, your mutual smiles, and the increasing glow in thy charming cheeks. Soon as we entered, I was surprized to see your cousin approach me, and with an affected air of humility, ask me for a kiss. Without comprehending the mystery, I complied with her request; and, charming as she is, I never could have had a more convincing proof of the insipidity of those sensations which proceed not from the heart. But what became of me a moment after, when I felt----My hands shook----A gentle tremor----Thy balmy lips----My Eloisa’s lips---- touch, pressed to mine, and myself within her arms? Quicker than lightening a sudden fire darted through my soul. I seemed all over sensible of the ravishing condescension, and my heart sunk down oppressed with insupportable delight; when all at once, I perceived your colour change, your eyes close; you leant upon your cousin, and fainted away. Fear extinguished all my joy, and my happiness vanished like a shadow.
I scarce know any thing that has past since that fatal moment. The impression it has made on my heart will never be effaced. A favour?----it is an extreme torment----No, keep thy kisses, I cannot bear them----They are too penetrating, too painful----they distract me. I am no more myself, and you appear to me no more the same object. You seem not as formerly chiding and severe; but methinks I see and feel thee lovely and tender as at that happy instant when I pressed thee to my bosom. O Eloisa! whatever may be the consequence of my ungovernable passion, use me as severely as you please, I cannot exist in my present condition, and I perceive I must at last expire at your feet----or in your arms.