Page:Letters of Mlle. de Lespinasse.djvu/90

1773] Yes, I desire to wait for you — always. Why should I go faster than you ? I should only weary myself and clog your steps. I desire that no affections shall henceforth agitate me painfully : it is too much. I know not how I have sufficed so far. It is true that I have concentrated my strength on a single point. All nature is dead for me, except certain objects which fill and vivify every moment of my life. I exist for nothing else: things, pleasures, distractions, vanity, social opinion, all that is no longer of use to me ; I regret the time that I gave to it — though indeed it was very short, for I knew sorrow early, and it has this of good about it ; it averts many follies. I was trained by that great teacher of men, misfor- tune. That was the language that pleased you ; it touched the feeling spot of your soul, from which dissipation and the amiable social tone of this country is forever removing you. You were glad to have me bring you back to what you once loved, what you once suffered. Yes, there is a species of suffering which has such charm, which brings such sweetness into the soul, that we are ready to prefer that woe to all that is called " pleasure." I taste that joy — or that poison — twice a week ; and that sort of nourishment is more needful to me than the air I breathe.

The Comtesse de Boufflers talks to me much of you and of what she writes to you ; she likes you because you wrote " Le Conn^table," and that is indeed enough on which to found a liking. Oh ! how small and narrow my soul is ! I hate the Patagonians and the Liliputians equally — but what are my likes and dislikes to you ?

You are very amiable to have thought of making your writ- ing larger ; but I am inclined to complain of it, for it cuts me off a few lines. In God's name, stay what you are ; scribble as you please, travel round the world, but begin in Paris ; in a word, do not change a hair from your style of being. I do