How often have I laughed at a lover, in romance, bemoaning the absence of his mistress! Little did I imagine that your absence would ever be so intolerable to me! I am now sensible how improper it is for a mind at rest to judge of other men’s passions; and how foolish, to ridicule the sensations we have never felt. I must confess, however, I have great consolation in reflecting that I suffer by your command. The sufferings which you are pleased to ordain, are much less painful than if they were inflicted by the hand of fortune; if they give you any satisfaction, I should be sorry not to have suffered; they are the pledges of their reward; I know you too well to believe you would exercise barbarity for its own sake.
If your design be to put me to the proof, I will murmur no more. It is but just that you should know whether I am constant, endued with patience, docility, and, in short, worthy of the bliss you design me. Gods! if this be your idea, I shall complain that I have not suffered half enough. Ah, Eloisa! for heaven’s sake, support the flattering expectation in my heart, and invent, if you can, some torment better proportioned to the reward.
Letter XX. From Eloisa.
I received both your letters at once, and I perceive, by your anxiety in the second, concerning the fate of the other, that when imagination takes the lead of reason, the latter is not always in haste to follow, but suffers her, sometimes, to proceed alone. Did you suppose, when you reached Sion, that the post waited only for your letter, that it would be delivered to me the instant of his arrival here, and that my answer would be favoured with equal dispatch? No, no, my good friend, things do not always go on so swimmingly. Your two epistles came both together; because the post happened not to set out till after he had received the second. It requires some time to distribute the letters; my agent has not always an immediate opportunity of meeting me alone, and the post from hence does not return the day after his arrival: so that, all things calculated, it must be at least a week before we can receive an answer one from the other. This I have explained to you with design, once for all, to satisfy your impatience. Whilst you are exclaiming against fortune and my negligence, you see that I have been busied in obtaining the information necessary to insure our correspondence, and prevent your anxiety. Which of us hath been best employed, I leave to your own decision.
Let us, my dear friend, talk no more of pain; rather partake the joy I feel at the return of my kind father, after a tedious absence of eight months. He arrived on Thursday evening, since which happy moment I have thought of nobody else. [7] O thou, whom, next to the Author of my being, I love more than all the world! why must thy letters, thy complainings affect my soul, and interrupt the first transports of a reunited happy family?
You expect to monopolize my whole attention. But tell me, could you love a girl, whose passion for her lover could extinguish all affection for her parents? Would you, because you are uneasy, have me insensible to the endearments of a kind father? No, my worthy friend, you must not imbitter my innocent joy by your unjust reproaches. You, who have so much sensibility, can surely conceive the sacred pleasures of being prest to the throbbing heart of a tender parent. Do you think that in those delightful moments it is possible to divide one’s affection?
_Sol che son figlia io mi rammento adesso._
Yet you are not to imagine I can forget you. Do we ever forget what we really love? No, the more lively impressions of a moment have no power to efface the other. I was not unaffected with your departure hence, and shall not be displeased to see you return. But----be patient like me, because you must, without asking any other reason. Be assured that I will recall you as soon as it is in my power; and remember, that those who complain loudest of absence, do not always suffer most.
Letter XXI. To Eloisa.
How was I tormented in receiving the letter which I so impatiently expected! I waited at the post-house. The mail was scarce opened before I gave in my name, and begun to importune the man. He told me there was a letter for me; my heart leaped; I asked for it with great impatience, and at last received it. O Eloisa! how I rejoiced to behold the well-known hand! A thousand times would I have kissed the precious characters, but I wanted resolution to press the letter to my lips, or to open it before so many witnesses. Immediately I retired, my knees trembled; I scarce knew my way; I broke the seal the moment I had past the first turning; I run over, or rather devoured, the dear lines, till I came to that part which so movingly speaks your tenderness and affection for your venerable father; I wept; I was observed; I then retired to a place of greater privacy, and there mingled my joyful tears with yours. With transport I embraced your happy father, though I hardly remember him. The voice of nature reminded me of my own, and I shed fresh tears to his memory.
O incomparable Eloisa! what can you possibly learn of me? It is from you only can be learnt every thing that is great and good, and especially that divine union of nature, love, and virtue, which never existed but in you. Every virtuous affection is distinguished in your heart by a sensibility so peculiar to yourself, that, for the better regulation of my own, as my actions are already submitted to your will, I perceive, my sentiments also must be determined by yours.
Yet what a difference there is between your situation and mine! I do not mean as to rank or fortune; sincere affection, and dignity of soul, want none of these. But you are surrounded by a number of kind friends who adore you; a tender mother, and a father who loves you as his only hope; a friend and cousin who seem to breathe only for your sake: you are the ornament and oracle of an entire family, the boast and admiration of a whole town; these, all these divide your sensibility, and what remains for love is but a small part in comparison of that which is ravished from you by duty, nature and friendship. But I, alas! Eloisa, a wanderer without a family, and almost without country, have no one but you upon earth, and am possessed of nothing, save my love. Be not, therefore, surprized, though your heart may have more sensibility, that mine should know better how to love; and that you, who excel me in every thing else, must yield to me in this respect.
You need not, however, be apprehensive lest I should indiscreetly trouble you with my complaints. No, I will not interrupt your joy, because it adds to your felicity, and is in its nature laudable. Imagination shall represent the pathetic scene; and, since I have no happiness of my own, I will endeavour to enjoy yours.
Whatever may be your reasons for prolonging my absence, I believe them just; but though I knew them to be otherwise, what would that avail? Have I not promised implicit obedience? Can I suffer more in being silent, than in parting from you? But remember, Eloisa, your soul now directs two separate bodies, and that the one she animates by choice will continue the most faithful.
_--------Nodo piu forte: Fabricato da noi, non dalla forte._
No, Eloisa, you shall hear no repining. Till you are pleased to recall me from exile, I will try to deceive the tedious hours in exploring the mountains of Valais, whilst they are yet practicable. I am of opinion that this unfrequented country deserves the attention of speculative curiosity, and that it wants nothing to excite admiration, but a skilful spectator. Perhaps my excursion may give rise to a few observations, that may not be entirely undeserving your perusal. To amuse a fine lady one should describe a witty and polite nation; but, I know, my Eloisa will have more pleasure in a picture where simplicity of manners and rural happiness are the principal objects.
Letter XXII. From Eloisa.
At last, the ice is broken: you have been mentioned. Notwithstanding your poor opinion of my learning, it was sufficient to surprize my father; nor was he less pleased with my progress in music and drawing: Indeed, to the great astonishment of my mother, who was prejudiced by your scandal, [8] he was satisfied with my improvement in every thing, except heraldry, which he thinks I have neglected. But all this could not be acquired without a master: I told him mine, enumerating at the same time all the sciences he proposed to teach me, except one. He remembers to have seen you several times on his last journey, and does not appear to retain any impression to your disadvantage.
He then enquired about your fortune; he was told, it was not great: Your birth? he was answered, _honest_. This word _honest_ sounds very equivocal in the ears of nobility; it excited some suspicions, which were confirmed in the explanation. As soon as he was informed that your birth was not noble, he asked, what you had been paid per month. My mother replied, that you had not only refused to accept a stipend, but that you had even rejected every present she had offered. This pride of yours served but to inflame his own: who indeed could bear the thought of being obliged to a poor _plebeian_? Therefore it was determined, that a stipend should be offered, and that, in case you refused it, notwithstanding your merit, you should be dismissed. Such, my friend, is the result of a conversation held concerning my most honoured master, during which his very humble scholar was not entirely at ease. I thought I could not be in too great a hurry to give you this information, that you might have sufficient time to consider it maturely. When you have come to a resolution, do not fail to let me know it; for it is a matter entirely within your own province, and beyond my jurisdiction.