From the first moment of our meeting, the softest familiarity was established between us, and in the same degree it continued during the rest of her life.Child was my name, Mamma was hers, and child and mamma we have ever continued, even after a number of years had almost effaced the apparent difference of age between us.I think those names convey an exact idea of our behavior, the simplicity of our manners, and, above all, the similarity of our dispositions.To me she was the tenderest of mothers, ever preferring my welfare to her own pleasure; and if my own satisfaction found some interest in my attachment to her, it was not to change its nature, but only to render it more exquisite, and infatuate me with the charm of having a mother young and handsome, whom I was delighted to caress: I say literally, to caress, for never did it enter into her imagination to deny me the tenderest maternal kisses and endearments, or into my heart to abuse them.It will be said, our connection was of a different kind: I confess it; but have patience, that will come in its turn.
The sudden sight of her, on our first interview, was the only truly passionate moment she ever inspired me with; and even that was principally the work of surprise.My indiscreet glances never went searching beneath her neckerchief, although the ill-concealed plumpness was quite attractive for them.With her I had neither transports nor desires, but remained in a ravishing calm, sensible of a happiness I could not define.
She was the only person with whom I never experienced that want of conversation, which to me is so painful to endure.Our tete-a-tetes were rather an inexhaustible chat than conversation, which could only conclude from interruption.So far from finding discourse difficult, I rather thought it a hardship to be silent; unless, when contemplating her projects, she sank into a reverie; when I silently let her meditate, and gazing on her, was the happiest of men.I had another singular fancy, which was that without pretending to the favor of a tete-a-tete, I was perpetually seeking occasion to form them, enjoying such opportunities with rapture; and when importunate visitors broke in upon us, no matter whether it was man or woman, Iwent out murmuring, not being able to remain a secondary object in her company; then, counting the minutes in her antechamber, I used to curse these eternal visitors, thinking it inconceivable how they could find so much to say, because I had still more.
If ever I felt the full force of my attachment, it was when I did not see her.When in her presence, I was only content; when absent, my uneasiness reached almost to melancholy, and a wish to live with her gave me emotions of tenderness even to tears.Never shall I forget one great holiday, while she was at vespers, when I took a walk out of the city, my heart full of her image, and the ardent wish to pass my life with her.I could easily enough see that at present this was impossible; that the happiness I enjoyed would be of short duration, and this idea gave to my contemplations a tincture of melancholy, which, however, was not gloomy, but tempered with a flattering hope.
The ringing of bells, which ever particularly affects me, the singing of birds, the fineness of the day, the beauty of the landscape, the scattered country houses, among which in idea Iplaced our future dwelling, altogether struck me with an impression so lively, tender, melancholy, and powerful, that I saw myself in ecstasy transported into that happy time and abode, where my heart, possessing all the felicity it could desire, might taste it with raptures inexpressible.I never recollect to have enjoyed the future with such force of illusion as at that time; and what has particularly struck me in the recollection of this reverie is that, when realized, I found my situation exactly as I had imagined it.If ever waking dream had an appearance of a prophetic vision, it was assuredly this; I was only deceived in its imaginary duration, for days, years, and life itself, passed ideally in perfect tranquility, while the reality lasted but a moment.Alas! my most durable happiness was but as a dream, which I had no sooner had a glimpse of, than Iinstantly awoke.
I know not when I should have done, if I was to enter into a detail of all the follies that affection for my dear Madam de Warrens made me commit.When absent from her, how often have Ikissed the bed on a supposition that she had slept there; the curtains and all the furniture of my chamber, on recollecting they were hers, and that her charming hands had touched them; nay, the floor itself, when I considered she had walked there.Sometimes even in her presence extravagancies escaped me, which only the most violent passions seemed capable of inspiring; in a word, there was but one essential difference to distinguish me from an absolute lover, and that particular renders my situation almost inconceivable.
