ity which
belongs to it. In awaiting this moment that I foresee and so much
desire, I shall esteem myself extremely happy if my reflections shall
contribute to render you that tranquillity of spirit so necessary to
judge wisely of things, and without which there can be no true
happiness.

I perceive, Madam, though rather tardily, the length of this letter;
but I hope you will pardon it, as well as my frankness. They will at
least prove the lively interest I take in your painful situation, the
sincere desire I feel to bring it to a termination, and the strong
inclination which actuates me to restore you to your accustomed
serenity. Less pressing motives would never have been sufficient to
make me break silence. Your own positive orders were necessary to lead
me to speak of objects which, once thoroughly examined, give no
uneasiness to a healthy mind. It has been a law with me never to
explain myself upon the subject of religion. Experience has often
convinced me that the most useless of enterprises is to seek to
undeceive a prejudiced mind. I was very far from believing that I
ought ever to write upon these subjects. You alone, Madam, had the
power to conquer my indolence, and to impel me to change my
resolution. Eugenia afflicted, tormented with scruples, and ready to
plunge herself into gloomy austerities and superstitions, calculated
to render her unamiable to others, without contributing happiness to
herself, honored me with her confidence, and requested counsel of her
friend. She exacted that I should speak. "It is enough," I said; "let
me write for Eugenia; let me endeavor to restore the repose she has
lost; let me labor with ardor for her upon whose happiness that of so
many others is dependent."

Such, Madam, are the motives which induce me to take my pen in hand.
In looking forward to the time when you will be undeceived, I shall
dare at least to flatter myself that you will not regard me with the
same eyes with which priests and devotees look upon every one who has
the temerity to contradict their ideas. To believe them, every man who
declares himself against religion is a bad citizen, a madman armed to
justify his passions, a perturbator of the public repose, and an enemy
of his fellow-citizens, that cannot be punished with too much rigor.
My conduct is known to you; and the confidence with which you honor me
is sufficient for my apology. It is for you alone that I write. It is
to dissipate the clouds that