Lettre autographe adressée à sa soeur Pauline : « Voilà mes rêveries, (...) tu es la seule personne au monde à qui j'ose les dire. »

Long autograph letter by Stendhal, addressed to his sister Pauline, written in fine handwriting with black ink.
Address of Stendhal's father, where his sister resides, in Grenoble, with the stamp "n°51 Grande Armée." Red wax seal bearing Stendhal's coat of arms.
Several original folds, inherent to postal delivery. A paper loss due to the unsealing of the letter has been skillfully restored.
A very beautiful letter, filled with romantic passion, blending childhood nostalgia with sentimental tales, and foreshadowing The Red and the Black.

This letter is part of the correspondence between the young Henri Beyle—then twenty-five years old—and his sister Pauline, three years his junior. This epistolary relationship, which quickly took the form of a "journal"—as Pauline's responses were rare—was a crucial milestone in the intellectual development of the future Stendhal: "Here are my dreams, my dear friend; I am almost ashamed of them; but, after all, you are the only person in the world to whom I dare confess them."
In this letter, which attests to the strong bond between brother and sister, Stendhal, then in Germany, expresses his deep nostalgia: "I revisited in my memory all the time we spent together: how I did not love you in our childhood; how I once hit you at Claix, in the kitchen. I hid in the little book cabinet; my father came back a moment later, furious, and said to me: 'Wicked child! I would eat you!' Then, all the woes inflicted upon us by poor Aunt Séraphie; our walks along those paths surrounded by stagnant water, towards Saint-Joseph." These regrets about the past are accompanied by a typically Stendhalian melancholy:
"Alas! That delightful happiness I once imagined, I glimpsed it once at Frascati, and a few other times in Milan. Since then, it has not returned; I marvel at my inability to feel it. The mere memory of it is more powerful than all the present joys I can procure."
This evocation of the Italy he longs for is intertwined with memories of the women he loved:
"I told you that while in Frascati, at a charming fireworks display, at the moment of the explosion, Adèle leaned on my shoulder for an instant; I cannot express how happy I was. For two years, whenever I was overwhelmed with sorrow, this image gave me courage and made me forget all my troubles. I had long forgotten it; I tried to recall it today. Against my will, I see Adèle as she is; but as I am now, there is no longer the slightest joy in this memory."
This lengthy account of Adèle Rebuffet, his cousin with whom he had a profound romantic relationship before forming a closer bond with her mother, reflects Stendhal's sentimentality. He also mentions another of his great passions, Angelina Pietragrua, the ideal Italian woman and embodiment of his Milanese memories: "Madame Pietragrua is different: her memory is linked to that of the Italian language; whenever something pleases me in a role for a woman in a work, I involuntarily put it into her mouth." This "role for a woman" that Stendhal refers to echoes the central theme of this letter, the work Il Matrimonio segreto by composer Cimarosa: "Do you sometimes play the Matrimonio? It’s the passage Cara sposa at the beginning between Carolina and Paolino. [...] But play the Matrimonio for my sake, especially Signor deh permettette and the finale Io rival de mia sorella." This opera by Cimarosa, far from being a passing fancy, would remain a constant throughout the writer's life and work. In his Memoirs of an Egotist (1832), he explains:
"In Milan, in 1820, I wanted to have this written on my tomb [...] I wanted a marble tablet in the shape of a playing card: "Errico Beyle – Milanese – Visse, scrisse, amò – Quest'anima adorava Cimarosa, Mozart e Shakspeare – Morì di anni... il ... 18..." ("Henri Beyle – Milanese – He lived, wrote, loved – This soul adored Cimarosa, Mozart, and Shakespeare – He died in the year... the... 18...")". A few years later, in The Life of Henry Brulard, an autobiographical work written in 1835-1836, he reaffirms this: "I will admit that I find the songs of only two authors perfectly beautiful: Cimarosa and Mozart, and I would sooner be hanged than sincerely say which one I prefer over the other. [...] When I have just heard Mozart or Cimarosa, it is always the last one heard that seems perhaps a little superior to the other." But the most revealing tribute Stendhal pays to his favorite composer is found in his masterpiece The Red and the Black:
"Throughout the first act of the opera, Mathilde dreamed of the man she loved with the transports of the most intense passion; but in the second act, a love maxim sung—let it be admitted—on a melody worthy of Cimarosa, pierced her heart. The opera's heroine said: 'I must be punished for the excess of adoration I feel for him; I love him too much!'" (The Red and the Black, Chapter XLIX)