that is worthy to occupy it. Csesar, Voltaire, the King of
Prussia seem to it sometimes worthy of admiration, but
never of envy. I should horrify you too much if I told you
the fate I should prefer to all else that breathes ; yes, I am
like Felix — in Polyeucte : —
"I enter upon feelings that are not believable,
Some I have are violent, others are pitiable;
I have even some — "
But you cannot understand that language; I should make you blush for having thought that my soul had relations with yours. You do me too much honour in raising me to your level ; but avoid ever putting me beside the women you most esteem ; you would annoy them, and do me harm. You do not know all my value ; reflect that I can suffer and die, and then ask yourself if I resemble those women who please and amuse themselves. Alas ! the one is as repugnant to me as the other is impossible. I dislike whatever comes to distract and turn me from my one thought; there are objects that nothing can make me lose from sight. What I hear called dissipation, pleasure, only stupefies and wearies me ; and if any one had the power to part me a moment from my sorrows, I believe that, far from feeling grateful, I should hate him. What think you of that ? you who talk to me of my " happi- ness," and who lead me to hope that, if it depends on your friendship, you will give it to me. No, monsieur, your friend- ship will not give me happiness, for that is impossible ; it will console me, it may, perhaps, make me suffer, and I do not know whether I shall hereafter felicitate or pity myself most for what I owe to you.
Why do you take the tone of justifying yourself for having read aloud the " Conn^table " ? It would have been disobliging to refuse a pleasure you could give and receive. The King of Prussia wrote a charming letter to M. d'Alem-
