Madame de Rosemonde _to the_ Presidente de Tourvel.
I would have answered your letter sooner, my dear child, if the fatigue
of my last had not brought on a return of my disorder, which has
deprived me ever since of the use of my arm. I was very anxious to
thank you for the good news you gave me of my nephew, and not less to
congratulate you sincerely on your own account. Here the interposition
of Providence is visible, that touching the heart of the one has also
saved the other. Yes, my lovely dear! the Almighty, who sent you this
trial, has assisted you in the moment your strength was exhausted; and
notwithstanding your little murmurings, I think you have great reason
to return him your unfeigned thanks: not but I believe you would have
been very glad to have been the first in this resolution, and that
Valmont’s should have been the consequence of it; I even think, humanly
speaking, the dignity of our sex would have been better preserved, and
we are not fond of giving up any of our rights. But what are these
considerations to those more important objects! We seldom hear a person
saved from shipwreck complain, the means were not in his option.
You will soon experience, my dear child, the afflictions you dreaded
so much will grow lighter of themselves, and even were they to last
for ever in their full force, you will be sensible they are easier to
bear than the remorse of guilt or self-contempt. It would have been
useless to talk to you before with this apparent severity: love is
an independent passion, that prudence may make us avoid, but cannot
conquer, which when once it has taken root, must die its own natural
death, or of absolute despair. This last being your case, gives me the
resolution and the right to tell you freely my sentiments. It is cruel
to frighten a sick person that is despaired of, to whom palliatives
only and consolations should be administered: but it is the part of
wisdom to remind those on the recovery, of the dangers they escaped,
to assist them with necessary prudence and submission to the advice
they stand in need of. As you have chose me for your physician, in that
character I address you, and tell you, the little inconveniencies you
feel at present, which may require, perhaps, some remedies, are nothing
in comparison of the dreadful disorder whose cure is now certain.
Then, as your friend, as the friend of a virtuous and reasonable woman,
give me leave to add, this passion you have subdued, so unhappy in
itself, became infinitely more so in its object. If I am to believe
what I am told, my nephew, who I must own I love even to a degree of
weakness, unites many laudable qualities to a great many attractions,
is very dangerous to the women, blameable in his behaviour towards
them, and piques himself as much on exposing as seducing them. I really
believe you would have converted him. Sure never was any one so worthy;
however, so many others flattered themselves in the same manner, whose
hopes were frustrated, that I am overjoyed to find you are not reduced
to that resource.
Reflect now, my dear woman, that instead of so many dangers as you
would have had to go through, you will have, besides the testimony of
a good conscience and your own peace, the satisfaction of being the
cause of Valmont’s reformation. I own, I think it in a great measure
owing to your resolute defence, and that a moment’s weakness on your
part would have left my nephew in lasting disorders. I love to indulge
this way of thinking, and wish you to do the same; you will find it
consoling; it will be an additional reason for me to love you the more.
I shall expect you in a few days, my dear child, as you promised. You
will once more find serenity and happiness where you lost them. Come
and rejoice with your tender mother, that you have so happily kept your
word to do nothing unworthy yourself or her.
_Castle of_ ——, _Oct._ 30, 17—.