Eloisa : $b or, A series of original letters — Jean-Jacques Rousseau — John Shaqi
Eloisa : $b or, A series of original letters
Jean-Jacques Rousseau · en
And yet I see you and converse with you every day of my life, and am
but too sensible that you innocently aggravate a misfortune which you
cannot pity, and of which you ought to be ignorant. It is true, I know
what prudence would dictate, in a case like this, where there is no
hope; and I should certainly follow her advice if I could reconcile it
with my notions of probity. How can I with decency quit a family into
which I was so kindly invited, where I have received so many
obligations, and where, by the tenderest of mothers, I am thought of
some utility to a daughter whom she loves more than all the world? How
can I resolve to deprive this affectionate parent of the pleasure she
proposes to herself in, one day, surprizing her husband with your
progress in the knowledge of things of which he must naturally suppose
you ignorant? Shall I impolitely quit the house without taking leave
of her? Shall I declare to her the cause of my retreat, and would not
she even have reason to be offended with this confession from a man
whose inferior birth and fortune must for ever remain insuperable bars
to his happiness?
There seems but one method to extricate me from this embarrassment:
the hand which involved me in it must also relieve me. As you are the
cause of my offence, you must inflict my punishment: out of
compassion, at least, deign to banish me from your presence. Shew my
letter to your parents; let your doors be shut against me; spurn me
from you in what manner you please; from you I can bear any thing; but
of my own accord I have no power to fly from you.
Spurn me from you! fly your presence! why? Why should it be a crime to
be sensible of merit, and to love that which we cannot fail to honour?
No, charming Eloisa; your beauty might have dazzled my eyes, but it
never would have misled my heart, had it not been animated with
something yet more powerful. It is that captivating union between a
lively sensibility and invariable sweetness of disposition; it is that
tender feeling for the distresses of your fellow creatures; it is that
amazing justness of sentiment, and that exquisite taste which derive
their excellence from the purity of your soul; they are, in short,
your mental charms much more than those of your person, which I adore.
I confess it may be possible to imagine beauties still more
transcendently perfect; but more amiable, and more deserving the heart
of a wise and virtuous man,----no, no, Eloisa, it is impossible.