Part 17 (1/2)

It appears that Coste, the press-corrector, would be a frequent visitor at the house in the Heer-Gracht. There he met his friend, the journalist De La Motte. An intimacy naturally grew up between Coste and one of the daughters. Whenever they had to part for a time, he used to write either to her or to her sisters and friends. She answered occasionally. Only one of her letters is extant.

I

MADEMOISELLE,--(He has been ill, has delayed answering. Compliments: the letter received has delighted him.) We must love you well to rejoice in hearing how well you are diverting yourselves at the Hague, while here we drag on our miserable lives without the least pleasure. You seem slow to believe us so unhappy, for you speak of our garden and the study therein as of an earthly paradise. But you are greatly mistaken if you imagine the place, which appeared so charming when you were there, is still so, when you are there no longer. It's quite another thing. Your absence has disturbed everything. Our garden yields no more fruit. Even the weeds no sooner spring but they wither.... Such desolation is not limited to our garden, all Amsterdam feels it. Which reminds me of a conversation that took place over a fortnight ago in a house where I happened to be in good company.... A Fleming who had come from the Hague two days before, told us how charming a place it was.... I know the reason well, said I to myself:

”Which proceeds neither from the magnificent throne Of his British Majesty, Nor from the Amba.s.sadors that are gathered together here To appease the upstirred hearts Of all the princes in Europe.

One speedily sees, unless one be a mole, That two Iris's have caused the vast change And therefore If in our business city Such charms are not to be found As in the large Dutch burgh, It is because those Iris's are not there.”

... Ah! had I been able, I should have simply laughed from Leyden to Harlem and leapt for joy from Harlem to Amsterdam. But that would not have been more possible than for Mlle Durand to come into the world before Mlle Rouviere.[293] When I take thought, I reflect that at bottom you do me the favour to send me your love as well as to Mlle Prades and M. de La Motte....--COSTE.[294]

II

[The letter is addressed to ”Monsieur Convenent, conseiller d'Orange, pour rendre a Mademoiselle Durand, a la Haye.” Written about the same time as the preceding.]

MESDEMOISELLES,--We thought we had to thank you only for the honour you did us to inform us on Sat.u.r.day that you would welcome us with pleasure in your company to Leyden.... (usual old-fas.h.i.+oned complimentary phrases).

You no doubt wish to know what became of us after the fatal moment of our parting from you. We went on board feeling very sad, and now talking, now holding our tongues, lying down, leaning, yawning, dozing and sleeping, we reached Harlem. Those that did not sleep, heard the nightingale and the cuckoo sing.[295] I was of the number as well as Mlle Isabeau who, hearing the cuckoo sing, softly breathed quite a pretty song. She would have sung, but the glory to gain was too little with a cuckoo for a rival. As to the nightingale, she dare not try her strength against his, for fear of failure. There is risk everywhere, yet I believe that, had she had the courage to enter the lists, she would have come out victorious. As to M.

Rouviere, he woke up only when compelled to leave the boat, and cross the town of Harlem. Do you know what he did to sleep so soundly? He made me promise to read him some of Madame Des Houlieres'[296] poetry, paying me for my trouble, of course. He handed me an apple, on condition I should read until he fell asleep, and I won the apple very soon. I had not read six lines before I laid down the book to eat my apple, and there was no further need to take up the book.

Having crossed Harlem, we went on board once more and met in the boat a great talker, just back from England, a brother to M. Va.s.serot; he left us only the liberty to listen and to ask a question now and then, to compel him to change his subject. The talk was all about England....

Though I long to see you, I prefer being deprived of your presence to enjoying it, if your stay at the Hague may help Mlle Durand to recover health, which with all my heart I wish she will do.... I shall be as careful to tell you all that happens here as Mlle Durand must be to note all she feels in order to instruct M. Drelincourt. Talking of that doctor, I have had occasion to write to a famous English physician, named Locke, of whom you have heard me so often speak. Yesterday I received a book with which he was kind enough to present me. I shall thank him at the earliest opportunity. If Mlle Durand thinks it proper, I shall send him an account of her sickness, begging him to point out what remedies he thinks fit....

COSTE.

III

[From England, where Coste is staying, he writes a series of letters, by way of pastime, no doubt, when not engaged in the austerer task of translating the _Essay_, under Locke's immediate supervision.]

_To Mademoiselle Suson and to Mesdemoiselles Isabeau and Jeannette to beg them to prevail upon Mademoiselle Suson to take up a pen._

MADEMOISELLE,--You love me little, in spite of your fine protests; or you know little what true friends.h.i.+p is. 'Tis not punctilious, as you feign to think. You are not witty enough, you say, to answer my letter. 'Tis untrue, an't please you; but even if it was so, must we be witty to write to a friend? Let us only consult our hearts, and utter what they feel. As to terms, a friend never stops to criticise them. Heavens! whoever amused himself with reading a letter from a friend with a dictionary and a grammar in his hand, to find out some obsolete word or sorry turn of phrase?

Friends.h.i.+p is not irksome, and it is one of the finest privileges a friend has when writing to a friend, to say all he chooses to say in the way he chooses without fearing anything. He ventures everything and runs no risk.

That freedom is the best part of friends.h.i.+p; without it I should not care a b.u.t.ton (je ne donnerois pas un clou) for that sweet union so boasted of, so rare, so seldom known.

If this is not enough to induce you to write, I shall have recourse to three or four intercessors that have more power perhaps over your mind than I.

I begin with Mlle Isabeau. The worst soldiers are always placed in front of the army, because, if they run away, all hopes are not lost. I act in the same way. I do not trust Mlle Isabeau very much. According to her temper, she will fight for or against me. Maybe she will be neither for nor against, and should I find her in that fatal frame of mind, it would be idle for me to say: ”Now, Mlle Isabeau, a line or two, please. Take pity on a poor lonely man who has scarcely lived since your going away. You can make him spend some sweet moments in writing to him, send him only four lines, or at least beseech Mlle Suson to write.” _She does not answer._ ”Is it possible, Mlle Isabeau, for you to have forgotten me so? Are the promises”--_She speaks to the wall._ If I become more pressing, I may elicit a crus.h.i.+ng reply. So I turn to Mlle Rouviere who will speak up for me, I am sure, and in such moving terms that Mlle Suson must surrender.

”Who are you talking about?” she will say. ”About that Englishman who would like perhaps to be with us here. What does he want? A letter from Mlle Suson. Well, you must write to him to-day, without fail. Give me the letter, I shall get it posted. Now, there's a merchant just stepping into the warehouse, I must go and see what he wants, I shall be back in a moment, excuse me, won't you, business above all.” Oh, the fatal motto, the cursed merchant! the troublesome fellow but for whom I had carried my suit.

Mlle Suson said nothing. She was half convinced by Mlle Rouviere's natural eloquence, together with that good grace inseparable from whatever she says and which it is impossible to withstand.

But let us not lose heart! I have still my reserves to bring up. What Mlle Rouviere has only tried, Mlle Durand will accomplish without so much ado.

”The poor fellow,” she will say, ”he is right. Let us write to him without haggling.” And immediately, taking a large sheet of paper, she will write this or something like: