You cannot doubt that a woman of my character, and (I presume to say) of my understanding, must have held in contempt and aversion all the statesmen of the present day, whose unbounded ignorance and duplicity have brought ruin on France, have spread their own shame through all Europe, and have exposed themselves not only to the ridicule but to the curses of present and future generations. One great mind, one single enlightened statesman, whose virtues had equalled his talents, was all that was wanting to effect, at this unexampled period, the welfare of all Europe, by taking advantage of events the most extraordinary that have ever occurred in any era. That moment is gone by: an age of terror and perfidy has succeeded. Horrible events will take place, and those who find themselves farthest from the scenes which will be acted may consider themselves the most fortunate.
Cease therefore to torment me: I will not live in Europe, even were I, in flying from it, compelled to beg my bread. Once only will I go to France, to see you and James, but only that once. I will not be a martyr for nothing. The granddaughter of Lord Chatham, the niece of the illustrious Pitt, feels herself blush, as she writes, that she was born in England—that England, who has made her accursed gold the counterpoise to justice; that England who puts weeping humanity in irons, who has employed the valour of her troops, destined for the defence of her national honour, as the instrument to enslave a free-born people; and who has exposed to ridicule and humiliation a monarch who might have gained the good will of his subjects, if those intriguing English had left him to stand or fall upon his own merits.
What must be, if he reflects, the feelings of that monarch’s mind? but it is possible that his soul is too pure to enable him to dive into the views of others, and to see that he has merely been their tool. May Heaven inspire him with the sentiments of Henry the Fourth, (a name too often profaned) who would have trod the crown under his feet rather than have received it upon the conditions with which your friend has accepted it!
You will tell me that the French army—the bravest troops in the world, they who have made more sacrifices to their national honour than any others—would not listen to the voice of reason: and you think I shall believe you. Never! If an individual, poor and humble like myself, knows how to make an impression (as I have done) upon thousands of wild Arabs, without even bearing the name of chieftain, by yielding somewhat to their prejudices and by inspiring confidence in my integrity and sincerity, could not a king—a legitimate king—guide that army, to which he owed the preservation of his power, to a just appreciation of their duty? Without doubt he could, and would have done too, if he had been left free to act. What was to be expected from men, naturally incensed at the interference of those who, for twenty-five years, were held up to their minds as their bitterest enemies, but that which has happened? In a word, never did tyrant, ancient or modern, act so entirely against the interests of humanity as those insensate dolts of our day, who have violated the holy rights of peace, and have broken the ties, which, under any circumstances, should connect man and man.
And pray consider all I say as the real expression of my thoughts. Oh! if I said all I feel, I could fill a volume! but, just now, I am not very well in health, and to take a pen in hand confuses my head, as it has done ever since my attack of plague at Latakia. I have therefore begged the doctor to write this for me.
You and James must let me know if you can come and meet me in Provence: for to Paris I will not go. The sight of those odious ministers of ours, running about to do mischief, would be too disgusting. Recollect that it is not what is called “Love” which takes me now to a prison, but that sentiment which I shall always feel for those whom I have loved:—a sentiment, which, in my bosom, is not inferior in intensity to the passion itself in the bosom of another. You may make faces or not—I care not a farthing; for there is no soul on earth who ever had, or ever will have, any influence on my thoughts or my actions.
If you wish to write to me, send your letters to Paris, addressed to James, or to the care of Messrs. Lafitte et Cie, Coutts’s correspondents. I shall take care that the bearer of this letter applies there before he leaves Paris to rejoin me. His stay will be from fifteen to twenty days.
Adieu, my dear cousin. Be as proud and as angry as you please at my politics, but you will never change them: do not however, on that account, cease to love me, or forget,
Your ever affectionate
L. H. S.