Since the receipt of your letter, I have been daily with Mr. Silvester, to see after the packet you mentioned: but my impatience has been seven times disappointed. At length, however, on the eighth time of going, I received it; and it was no sooner put into my hands, than, without staying to pay the postage, even without asking what it came to, or speaking a word to any body, I ran with it out of doors; and, as if I had been out of my senses passed by the door of my lodgings, though it stood open before me, and traversed a number of streets that I knew nothing of, till in about half an hour I found myself at the farther end of Paris. I was then obliged to take a hackney coach in order to get the more speedily home, which is the first time I have made use of those conveniences in a morning; indeed it is with regret I use them even in an afternoon, to pay some distant visits; for my legs are good, and I should be sorry that any improvement in my circumstances should make me neglect the use of them.
When I was seated in the coach, I was a good deal perplexed with my packet; as you had laid your injunctions on me to open it no where but at home. Besides, I was unwilling to be subject to any interruption in opening the packet, and indulging myself in that exquisite satisfaction, I find in every thing that comes from you. I held it therefore with an impatience and curiosity which I could scarce contain: endeavouring to discover its contents through the covers, by pressing it every way with my hands; from the continual motions of which you would have thought the packet contained fire, and burned the ends of my fingers. Not but that from its size, weight, and the contents of your former letter, I had some suspicion; but then, how could I conceive you to have found either the opportunity or the artist? but what I then could not conceive, is one of the miracles of almighty love: the more it surpasses my conception, the more it enchants my heart, and one of the greatest pleasures it gives me arises from my ignorance in the manner in which you could effect it.
Arrived at length at my lodgings, I flew to my chamber, locked the door, threw myself, out of breath, into a chair, and with a trembling hand broke open the seal. ’Twas then, Eloisa, I felt the first effect of this powerful talisman. The palpitations of my heart increased at every paper I unfolded; till coming to the last, I was forced to stop and take breath a moment, before I could open it. It is open----my suggestions are true,----it is so,----it is the portrait of Eloisa. ----O , my love! your divine image is before me; I gaze with rapture on your charms! my lips, my heart, pay them the first homage, my knees bend;----Again, my eyes are ravished with thy heavenly beauties. How immediate, how powerful, is their magical effect! no Eloisa, it requires not, as you pretend, a quarter of an hour to make itself perceived; a minute, an instant suffices, to draw from my breast a thousand ardent sighs, and to recall, with thy image, the remembrance of my past happiness. Ah! why is the rapture of having such a treasure in possession allayed with so much bitterness? how lively is the representation it gives me of days that are no more! I gaze on the portrait, I think I see Eloisa, and enjoy in imagination those delightful moments, whose remembrance imbitters my present hours; and which heaven in its anger bestowed on me only to take them away. Alas! the next instant undeceives me; the pangs of absence throb with increased violence, after the agreeable delusion is vanished, and I am in the fate of those miserable wretches, whose tortures are remitted only to render them the more cruel. Heavens! what flames have not my eager eyes darted on this unexpected object! how has the sight of it roused in me those impetuous emotions, which used to be effected by your presence! O, my Eloisa, were it possible for this talisman to affect your senses with the phrenzy and illusion of mine----But why is it not possible? why may not those impressions, which the mind darts forth with such rapidity, reach as far as Eloisa? Ah, my charming friend! wherever you are, or however you are employed, at the time I am now writing, at the time your portrait receives the same homage I pay to the idol of my soul, do you not perceive your charming face bedewed with tears? do you not sympathize with me in love and sorrow? do you not feel the ardour of a lover’s kisses on your lips, your cheeks, your breast? do you not glow all over with the flame imparted from my burning lips?----Ha! what’s that?----some body knocks----I will hide my treasure----an impertinent breaks in upon me,----accursed be the cruel intruder, for interrupting me in transports so delightful, may he never be capable of love,----or may he be doomed to pine in absence, like me.
