To conclude here is a letter he wrote me yesterday from Marseilles,where he had gone to spend a few hours:"MY SWEET RENEE,--When you gave me permission to love you,I began to believe in happiness;now,I see it unfolding endlessly before me.The past is merely a dim memory,a shadowy background,without which my present bliss would show less radiant.When I am with you,love so transports me that I am powerless to express the depth of my affection;I can but worship and admire.Only at a distance does the power of speech return.You are supremely beautiful,Renee,and your beauty is of the statuesque and regal type,on which time leaves but little impression.No doubt the love of husband and wife depends less on outward beauty than on graces of character,which are yours also in perfection;still,let me say that the certainty of having your unchanging beauty,on which to feast my eyes,gives me a joy that grows with every glance.There is a grace and dignity in the lines of your face,expressive of the noble soul within,and breathing of purity beneath the vivid coloring.The brilliance of your dark eyes,the bold sweep of your forehead,declare a spirit of no common elevation,sound and trustworthy in every relation,and well braced to meet the storms of life,should such arise.The keynote of your character is its ******* from all pettiness.You do not need to be told all this;but I write it because I would have you know that I appreciate the treasure I possess.Your favors to me,however slight,will always make my happiness in the far-distant future as now;for I am sensible how much dignity there is in our promise to respect each other's liberty.Our own impulse shall with us alone dictate the expression of feeling.We shall be free even in our fetters.I shall have the more pride in wooing you again now that I know the reward you place on victory.You cannot speak,breathe,act,or think,without adding to the admiration Ifeel for your charm both of body and mind.There is in you a rare combination of the ideal,the practical,and the bewitching which satisfies alike judgment,a husband's pride,desire,and hope,and which extends the boundaries of love beyond those of life itself.
Oh!my loved one,may the genius of love remain faithful to me,and the future be full of those delights by means of which you have glorified all that surrounds me!I long for the day which shall make you a mother,that I may see you content with the fulness of your life,may hear you,in the sweet voice I love and with the thoughts,bless the love which has refreshed my soul and given new vigor to my powers,the love which is my pride,and whence I have drawn,as from a magic fountain,fresh life.Yes,Ishall be all that you would have me.I shall take a leading part in the public life of the district,and on you shall fall the rays of a glory which will owe its existence to the desire of pleasing you."So much for my pupil,dear!Do you suppose he could have written like this before?A year hence his style will have still further improved.
Louis is now in his first transport;what I look forward to is the uniform and continuous sensation of content which ought to be the fruit of a happy marriage,when a man and woman,in perfect trust and mutual knowledge,have solved the problem of giving variety to the infinite.This is the task set before every true wife;the answer begins to dawn on me,and I shall not rest till I have made it mine.
You see that he fancies himself--vanity of men!--the chosen of my heart,just as though there were no legal bonds.Nevertheless,I have not yet got beyond that external attraction which gives us strength to put up with a good deal.Yet Louis is lovable;his temper is wonderfully even,and he performs,as a matter of course,acts on which most men would plume themselves.In short,if I do not love him,I shall find no difficulty in being good to him.
So here are my black hair and my black eyes--whose lashes act,according to you,like Venetian blinds--my commanding air,and my whole person,raised to the rank of sovereign power!Ten years hence,dear,why should we not both be laughing and gay in your Paris,whence I shall carry you off now and again to my beautiful oasis in Provence?
Oh!Louise,don't spoil the splendid future which awaits us both!
Don't do the mad things with which you threaten me.My husband is a young man,prematurely old;why don't you marry some young-hearted graybeard in the Chamber of Peers?There lies your vocation.