I assure you that I am very fond of you, and that I wish you to know, if not happiness, at least tranquillity. But it is not possible to enjoy the least serenity with your habit of delving incessantly among the greatest mysteries. You kill both your body and your soul in trying to conciliate two contradictory things: religion and philosophy. The liberalism of your mind revolts against the old rubbish of dogma, and your natural mysticism takes alarm at the extreme consequences whither your reason leads you. Try to confine yourself to science, to pure science; learn to love facts for themselves. Study ideas as naturalists study insects. Such contemplation may be full of tenderness. The breasts of the Muses are full of milk; and that liquid is the beverage of the strong. And—once more—leave the place where your soul is stifling. Go at once, instantly, as if the house were afire!
Think of me sometimes, and believe always in my sincere affection.
TO EDMOND AND JULES DE GONCOURT.
1861.
You must have found a letter from me at your house in Paris, as I wrote to you the same day I received your book (last Monday), after reading it from one end to the other without hastening.
I was enchanted with it! It has an upspringing power that never flags for an instant. As to the analysis, it is perfect—it fairly dazzles me. In my former letter you will find my impression given immediately after the first reading. I should now be reading it a second time, if my mother had not three ladies under her roof, who are regaling themselves with it! It will certainly appeal to the fair sex, and therefore will be a success—I believe that is the general idea. But I have found opportunities to dip into your Philomène here and there, and I know the book perfectly. My opinion is this: You have done that which you wished to do, and have done it with great success.
Do not have any anxiety about it. Your réligieuse is not banal, thanks to the explanation at the beginning. That was the danger, but you have avoided it.
But that which lends the book its simplicity has perhaps restricted its breadth a little. Beside Sister Philoméne I should have wished to see contrasted the generality of réligieuses, who scarcely resemble her. And that is the only objection I have to make. It is true that you have not entitled your book: Morals of a Hospital! This may be the cause of some criticism.
I cannot find words to tell you how pleased I am with your work. I notice a new effect of realism in it,—the power to describe the natural connection of facts. Your method of doing this is excellent. Perhaps the strongest interest of the work springs from this.
What an imbecile was Levy! But he is very amusing, all the same.