_[Paris] December 28 [1794]._
* * * * *
I do, my love, indeed sincerely sympathize with you in all your
disappointments.--Yet, knowing that you are well, and think of me with
affection, I only lament other disappointments, because I am sorry that
you should thus exert yourself in vain, and that you are kept from me.
----, I know, urges you to stay, and is continually branching out into new
projects, because he has the idle desire to amass a large fortune, rather
an immense one, merely to have the credit of having made it. But we who
are governed by other motives, ought not to be led on by him. When we
meet, we will discuss this subject--You will listen to reason, and it has
probably occurred to you, that it will be better, in future, to pursue
some sober plan, which may demand more time, and still enable you to
arrive at the same end. It appears to me absurd to waste life in preparing
to live.
Would it not now be possible to arrange your business in such a manner as
to avoid the inquietudes, of which I have had my share since your
departure? Is it not possible to enter into business, as an employment
necessary to keep the faculties awake, and (to sink a little in the
expressions) the pot boiling, without suffering what must ever be
considered as a secondary object, to engross the mind, and drive sentiment
and affection out of the heart?
I am in a hurry to give this letter to the person who has promised to
forward it with ----'s. I wish then to counteract, in some measure, what
he has doubtless recommended most warmly.
Stay, my friend, whilst it is _absolutely_ necessary.--I will give you no
tenderer name, though it glows at my heart, unless you come the moment the
settling the _present_ objects permit.--_I do not consent_ to your taking
any other journey--or the little woman and I will be off, the Lord knows
where. But, as I had rather owe every thing to your affection, and, I may
add, to your reason, (for this immoderate desire of wealth, which makes
---- so eager to have you remain, is contrary to your principles of
action), I will not importune you.--I will only tell you, that I long to
see you--and, being at peace with you, I shall be hurt, rather than made
angry, by delays.--Having suffered so much in life, do not be surprised if
I sometimes, when left to myself, grow gloomy, and suppose that it was all
a dream, and that my happiness is not to last. I say happiness, because
remembrance retrenches all the dark shades of the picture.
My little one begins to show her teeth, and use her legs--She wants you to
bear your part in the nursing business, for I am fatigued with dancing
her, and yet she is not satisfied--she wants you to thank her mother for
taking such care of her, as you only can.
Yours truly,
MARY.