strange mistake was mine ! and / dare to blame certain per-
sons for lack of discernment ! / dare to tell them that they
observe nothing and do not know men. Ah ! how misled I
was ; mistaken to excess ! How is it that mj intelligence
did not check mj soul ? How can it be that, judging you
incessantly, I was, nevertheless, always carried away ? You
do not know the half of your ascendency over me ; you
do not know what you have to conquer each time that
I see you ; you have never suspected the sacrifices that I
make to you; you do not know the degree to which I
renounce my own self in order to be yours. I say to
you with Phfedre, " Often was I forced to deprive myself
of tears."
Yes, mon ami, I deprive myself, with you, of all that is most dear to me. I never speak to you now of my regrets, nor of my memories ; and, what is more cruel still, I let you see but a part of the feelings with which you fill my heart. I restrain the passion you excite in my soul ; I say to myself incessantly : " He will not respond to it, he will not under- stand me, and I should die of pain." Can you conceive, mon ami, the species of torture to which I am condemned ? I have remorse for what I give you, and regrets for what I am forced to keep back. I give myself up to you, but I do not give myself up to my own feeling for you ; yielding to you, I nevertheless battle within myself. Ah ! can you under- stand me ? can you know through thought what I feel, and what you have made me suffer? Yes, you will have a return towards me, because you have the sensibility that feels an interest in the unhappy and pities them.
But I know not why I thus unbosom myself for an instant; T know that I shall find no comfort in your heart. Mon ami, it is empty of tenderness and feeling. You have but one means of lifting me from my troubles : it is that of
