which I find worthy of love. It is so impossible for me to
love moderately that the greatest misfortune that could hap-
pen to me would be to discover in you that which alone
could arrest, and perhaps extinguish, my feeling ; for, I will
own it honestly, I do not find it in me to love alone. With
the opposite conviction I have the strength of the martyrs ;
I fear no sort of sorrow. While suffering, and suffering
much, I can still cherish life, still adore and bless him who
makes me suffer ; but only on condition of being loved —
loved from attraction; not from gratitude, from delicacy,
from virtue, — all that is detestable ; it can only wither and
cast down a feeling soul. Ah ! let us never make of the
greatest blessing that Nature has bestowed upon man a thing
of pity.
Mon ami, there are moments when I feel myself your equal. I have strength, elevation, and a sovereign contempt for all that is vile and unworthy ; and I have also a con- tempt for death so fixed in my soul that, under whatever aspect it presents itself, it cannot frighten me for an instant ; in fact, it is almost always an active want within me. From this knowledge that I have of myself and of you, I say to you again : Let us love each other, or let us part forever; let us put truth and generosity into our conduct, and esteem ourselves enough to believe that all is possible to us except deceiving each other and living in that state of trouble and fear which comes, necessarily, from the uncer- tainty of being loved. In that state, mon ami, one has confidence neither in one's self nor in the one we love ; we enjoy nothing. For example : at this moment I desire pas- sionately that you may return to-night from Auteuil [Mme. de Bouffler's country-seat], and then, a moment later, it seems to me that I wish you to remain there. Can you conceive the suffering caused by this inward combat between
