LETTER III.
Cape Francois.
The so much desired general Rochambeau is at length here. His arrival was announced, not by the ringing of bells, for they have none, but by the firing of cannon. Every body, except myself went to see him land, and I was prevented, not by want of curiosity, but by indisposition. Nothing is heard of but the public joy. He is considered as the guardian, as the saviour of the people. Every proprietor feels himself already on his habitation and I have even heard some of them disputing about the quality of the coffee they expect soon to gather; perhaps these sanguine Creoles may find that they have reckoned without their host.
However, en attendant, the General, who it seems bears pleasure as well as conquest in his train, gives a grand ball on Thursday next. We are invited, and we go.
Clara is delighted! for the first time since our arrival her eyes brightened at receiving the invitation, and the important subject of what colours are to be worn, what fashions adopted, is continually discussed. Her husband, whose chief pleasure is to see her brilliant, indulges all the extravagance of her capricious taste. She sighs for conquest because she is a stranger to content, and will enter into every scheme of dissipation with eagerness to forget for a moment her internal wretchedness. She is unhappy, though surrounded by splendor, because from the constitution of her mind she cannot derive happiness from an object that does not interest her heart.
My letter shall not be closed till after the ball of which I suppose you will be glad to have a description.
But why do you not write to me?
I am ignorant of your pursuits and even of the place of your abode, and though convinced that you cannot forget me, I am afflicted if I do not receive assurances of your friendship by every vessel that arrives!
Clara has not written, for nothing has hitherto had power to rouse her from the lethargy into which she had sunk. Perhaps the scenes of gaiety in which she is now going to engage may dispell the gloom which threatened to destroy all the energy of her charming mind. Perhaps too these scenes may be more fatal to her peace than the gloom of which I complain, for in this miserable world we know not what to desire. The accomplishment of our wishes is often a real misfortune. We pass our lives in searching after happiness, and how many die without having found it!