If we had children, I should like to see them all prosperous and with good State appointments.  Under penalty, therefore, of forfeiting my esteem and affection, he must get himself chosen deputy for the department at the coming elections; my family would support his candidature, and we should then have the delight of spending all our winters in Paris.  Ah! my love, by the ardor with which he embraced my plans, I can gauge the depth of his affection.

To conclude here is a letter he wrote me yesterday from Marseilles, where he had gone to spend a few hours: 

“MY SWEET RENEE,—­When you gave me permission to love you, I began to believe in happiness; now, I see it unfolding endlessly before me.  The past is merely a dim memory, a shadowy background, without which my present bliss would show less radiant.  When I am with you, love so transports me that I am powerless to express the depth of my affection; I can but worship and admire.  Only at a distance does the power of speech return.  You are supremely beautiful, Renee, and your beauty is of the statuesque and regal type, on which time leaves but little impression.  No doubt the love of husband and wife depends less on outward beauty than on graces of character, which are yours also in perfection; still, let me say that the certainty of having your unchanging beauty, on which to feast my eyes, gives me a joy that grows with every glance.  There is a grace and dignity in the lines of your face, expressive of the noble soul within, and breathing of purity beneath the vivid coloring.  The brilliance of your dark eyes, the bold sweep of your forehead, declare a spirit of no common elevation, sound and trustworthy in every relation, and well braced to meet the storms of life, should such arise.  The keynote of your character is its freedom from all pettiness.  You do not need to be told all this; but I write it because I would have you know that I appreciate the treasure I possess.  Your favors to me, however slight, will always make my happiness in the far-distant future as now; for I am sensible how much dignity there is in our promise to respect each other’s liberty.  Our own impulse shall with us alone dictate the expression of feeling.  We shall be free even in our fetters.  I shall have the more pride in wooing you again now that I know the reward you place on victory.  You cannot speak, breathe, act, or think, without adding to the admiration I feel for your charm both of body and mind.  There is in you a rare combination of the ideal, the practical, and the bewitching which satisfies alike judgment, a husband’s pride, desire, and hope, and which extends the boundaries of love beyond those of life itself.  Oh! my loved one, may the genius of love remain faithful to me, and the future be full of those delights by means of which you have glorified all that surrounds me!  I long for the day which shall make you a mother, that I may see you content with the fulness of your life, may hear you, in the sweet voice I love