aliforma Tional sility 1 ,# (/T-&SI^<^ 3 1822 02255 0644 presented to the UNIVERSITY LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SAN DIEGO by Mr. Armistead B. Carter ftetcrptrccs of JFordgn gutljors. SAINTE-BEUVE'S PORTRAITS OF WOMEN Social Sciences & Humanities Library University of California, San Diego Please Note: This item is subject to recall. Date Due DEC 1 9 1996 CI39(2#5) UCSD Li). C. A. SAINTE-BEUVE. AGED 62. PORTRAITS OF WOMEN BY C A. SAINTE-BEUVE TRANSLA TED B Y HELEN STOTT CHICAGO A. C. M'CLURG, & CO. 1891 CONTENTS. PAGE PREFATORY NOTE, vii MADAME DE MAINTENON, 1851, . . . . i MADAME DE SEVJGNE, 1829, .... 22 MADAME DE STAEL, 1835 43 JEANNE o'Aac, 1850, 134 MARIE ANTOINETTE, 1851, 153 MADAME DE LA FAYETTE, 1836, .... 170 PREFATORY NOTE. I-x compiling thia volume of Sainte-Beuve's studies of illustrious women, I have not confined my choice to his " Portrait " studies, but have selected from them and from his Causeries the essays which appeared to me most likely not only to interest English readers, but also those which exemplify the exploring and far- reaching erudition which the great French critic has brought to bear upon the complex science of literary criticism. His method is original ; his style, neither very ponderous nor very brilliant, is essentially penetrating and analytic. He read and studied, carefully observed and noted, every natural trait in a writer as an individual ; every literary characteristic ; recognised every shade of opinion, discussed these opinions liberally ; and then, with infinite subtlety of understanding and great copiousness of language, he boldly clothed his subject with his own convictions, making, as he himself has said, his " praise prominent and his criticism unobtrusive," blending enchantment with his smiling sarcasm, fascinating ever and anon by those flashes of poetic prose which relieve some of his most curiously-enveloped passages. In another volume of this series there is a critical memoir of Sainte-Beuve by Mr. William Sharp, and to that it is unnecessary to add in this volume. I quote, however, one or two passages from the Remin- viii PREFA TOR Y NO TE. isceuces of his latest secretary, M. Jules Troubat, which disclose in an interesting and graphic manner the private life of the celebrated critic : " On the day my duties began, I was conducted by a narrow carpeted staircase to the master's study. Sainte- Beuve just touched my hand without grasping it, holding his fingers straight, after the priestly fashion. At one corner of the table was a little silver saucepan with the remains of milk in it. He had just finished his frugal luncheon, which consisted of tea with milk and two rolls spread with fresh butter, an English fashion, or one acquired at Boulogne in his childhood. He always left a little of this bread and milk, and put it in a corner by the fireside for Mignonne.* This was how he kept his head clear and cool for work ; his feet he kept warm in winter by the aid of a foot- warmer, which was also placed in the carriage on Thursdays when he went to the Academy. He took the greatest care of his brain, using nothing to excite it, not even coffee, and never smoking; the utmost stimulant he ever allowed himself was the 'About' mixture, a little Curagoa with a suspicion of rum, for which the witty author of the Roi des Montagues had given him the recipe. Dinner, more substantial than luncheon, was delicately composed of soup, roast meat of some kind, salad, vegetables, cheese, fruit, or cake, a special kind of cake, which was got from the baker in the Rue Fleurus. He had a weakness for strawberries, and sometimes ate * This little cat Mignonne deserves a word. When she died, she was greatly regretted by the master. She was the only cat he ever tolerated in his study ; he even allowed her little velvet paws to wander about with daring familiarity among the books and papers which covered his two tables. She had soft, sweet eyes, which lighted lovingly at a caressing touch, with an almost speaking expression in them. rREFA TOR Y NO TE. ix them with sugar at night before retiring to rest. He took scarcely a saucerful of chocolat au lait in the morning, and no bread. " He believed himself that his five years' engagement with the Constitutionnel obliged him to diet himself thus carefully, in order to regulate his talent and intellect. Each article he wrote was worth a hundred crowns to him. His patrimony was small ; from his mother he had inherited the house he lived in, with an income of about two thousand livres. " He made me a sign to sit down on the easy-chair between the bed and the fireplace, an easy-chair in green repp, historic in its simplicity, and in which all Sainte-Beuve's visitors had sat. " ' There,' he said, pointing to a pile of fifteen volumes, ' are Veuillot's articles ; I have to write on him this week, so all that has to be swallowed. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I dictate the article which will appear on the following Monday, read, take notes, and think over the next article ; Friday I put that on paper, a labour . . . painful too ; . . . Saturday and Sunday we correct the proofs of Monday's article. . . . Therefore my bad temper begins on Monday ; Tuesday it is worse ; Wednesday at its height ; Thursday quite as bad ; Friday I am invisible all day, at home to no one ; I put cotton in my ears so that no external sound will jar upon me : I build up my article as a tailor builds a coat. . . .' "And, indeed, the rough drafts or jottings which issued from his hands on the Friday evenings when he had built the article (as he said), composed of scraps pinned together, very much resembled the first lining of a costume ready for fitting on. " ' My good temper,' he continued, ' does not return till the Sunday evening at six o'clock, when the last x PREFA TOR Y NO TE. pull of proofs for the Constittitionnel has been corrected and signed. ... I then feel relieved, set free. ... I have a few hours before me. ... I give you a holiday on Sunday afternoon, but for myself I never have one. . . . I have no Sunday ... all days are alike in nature. " ' We live without any ceremony ; when you come in the evening, if you find me still at table with Mme. Dufour, you must just sit down and join in the con- versation. There will be no restraint, and therefore you must pay no attention to my bad times. You can understand, when one feels bound for five years to do the same work each week and each day one must have occasional fits of impatience. . . . My life is like a mill, a perpetual feeding and grinding. . . . Cheron at the Library tells me I shall overdo it some day. Thursdays I have the Academy, but I do not go there always : I have quarrelled several times with my col- leagues there. They are insignificant people. What can I do ? I get there with my head already excited by my work, and I fight with them.' " At this I laughed, I could not help it, and he laughed with me. " Much has been said of Sainte-Beuve's ill-favoured appearance, a prejudice which still prevails. For my part, I think that ugliness or beauty is conditional. We must consult men as regards beauty in women, and ask a woman's opinion as to whether a man is hand- some or not. Sainte-Beuve had a very expressive face, illuminated with the light which intellectual, high- purposed work alone gives. " He was not one of those who believe that the name is sufficient in literature. He was for ever spurring himself on, as if he had to be continually whetting his talent. Of short stature, straight and portly ; his full face closely shaved each day ; a large nose (' an inquisit- PREFA TOR Y NO TE. xi ive nose,' as Eugene Pelletan said, speaking of Napoleon III.), one of those inquiring, prying noses, so to speak ; the bald outline of his head showed the point of a philosopher's cranium, ' a sage after the fashion of the ancient Greeks, to whom externally he bore no slight resemblance,' his bushy reddish eyebrows over- hung his eyes, roofed them in ; and the legendary velvet cap moved lightly with quick-coming thoughts, or twisted and turned about in his hand in expressing some metaphorical meaning, just as the advocates use their flat-crowned caps in heated argument. " The study was furnished with a simplicity which a Goncourt would not understand in a man (especially a man living in his own thoughts) like Sainte-Beuve. A bed by the side of the door, two tables joined together in the middle of the room, no ornaments, nor any artistic object except the bust or rather a miniature of the bust by Mathieu-Meusnier, which gives such a noble and moreover a real idea of the countenance of the great master, and of which the original makes the pendant to that of Daunou in the Library of Boulogne- sur-Mer, his native town." This is Troubat's portrait of the celebrated literary critic, whose works, so highly esteemed in France, are increasingly read in England. From this glimpse of the man and of his method, we are able to form an idea of the minute and painstaking research he brought to bear upon the studies he so voluminously produced. In the essays on seven celebrated women which com- pose this volume, we find a chivalrous delicacy of style, and a scrupulous appreciation of the sacredness of literary effort, which softens the pungency of critical judgment. There is a varied expressiveness, also, in his choice of words, which makes his prose poetic ; and we remark, that while the distinct vein of poetry xii PREFA TOR Y A T TE. in his nature never disturbs the philosophical subtlety with which lie renders each study a complete and scientific analysis, it yet lends real charm to the language in which he clothes his judgments which not even the ordeal of translation can quite destroy. H S. March 1891. MADAME DE MAINTENON. 1851. THE present seems a favourable time in which to approach the subject of Mme. de Maintenon. Popular taste inclines to display a keen interest in matters which relate to that great century when Louis XIV. reigned ; and as soon as we begin to consider that epoch intellectually, it becomes evident that she must occupy in it a very prominent place. Mme. de Maintenon's mental qualifications cause us to pardon her all those errors with which history justly reproaches her. Her faults were greatly exaggerated at the time by the general public. Mme. de Maintenon did not in reality originate any of the great Apolitical acts of the time. Except in one or two instances, which, however, are quite open to dispute, she did no more than favour very zealously the wrongs which were perpetrated during that closing reign. Her chief concern seems to have been to find interesting and amusing occupations, within his necessarily restricted circle, for the latter years of Louis XIV. This is the attitude, indeed the sole part she assumes in her language, her conversation, and also her correspondence, which certainly proves this clearly the more carefully it is studied. She is one of those persons we may hastily condemn, but who, ou A 2 MADAME DE MAINTENON. closer critfcism, cannot be so misjudged. She commands respect by her tone of noble simplicity and dignified discretion ; she pleases by the piquancy and excellence of her reasoning. There are even moments when we would call her charming ; although we no sooner find ourselves beyond her spell than the charm is broken, and we resume our former prejudice against her. I do not know if I am expressing the sentiments of others, but this is my own feeling each time that I approach the subject of Mme. de Maintenon. I shall endeavour to make out a few of my reasons, and to explain them. Mine, de Maintenon has of late years found a very desirable historian in one of her own kinsmen, M. le Due de Noailles, who writes most gravely and delicately. The last half of his History is anxiously looked for ; I shall make ample use of the two volumes already published, allowing myself, however, a little more freedom or licence in my judgment. Born in 1635, in the conciergerie of the prison of Niort, where her father was for the time confined, Franchise d'Aubigne began life as in a romance, and, indeed, the strangest romance which could have hap- pened to a person who above all her other characteristics was sensible. A grand-daughter of the illustrious Captain d'Aubigne, who distinguished himself in the sixteenth century, the daughter of the profligate Count Constant d'Aubigne and of a wise, good mother, she had early experience of the strangeness and harshness of fate ; yet her heart held a drop of the noble blood of her ancestor, which gave her pride, and she would not have changed her condition for a more fortunate one of lower degree. As a child she accompanied her parents to Martinique. On her return, being under the care of a Huguenot aunt, she had, although born a Catholic, embraced the doctrines of Calvin, when MADAME DE MAINTENON, 3 another relation, Mme. de Neuillant, came with an order from the court to rescue her from heresy. Placed first in a convent at Niort, then removed to Paris, the young D'Aubigne*, now altogether orphaned, felt every moment of her life the bitterness of dependence. Mme. de Neuillant, so zealous for her spiritual welfare, was so miserably mean that she allowed her to want for everything. However, the young girl began in her visits to Paris to see the world, and from the first she made a successful appearance there. " That was the epoch of elevated conversation, of gallant compliments ; in a word, of what was called the ruelles." Wit easily attained a position which was almost honour. La jeune Indienne, as she was called on account of her sojourn in America, was remarkable even at first eight, and she lost nothing on closer acquaintance. The Chevalier de Me"re, a fashionable wit of the time, became her lover and instructor, and proclaimed her praises. He has described her at this time as possessing a calm and even temper, " very hand- some, with a kind of beauty which always pleased." He recommended her to the Duchesse de Lesdiguieres, who travelled much, as one who had many charming resources. "She is sweet, grateful, trustworthy, faith- ful, modest, intelligent, and, to crown her charms, she uses her wit only to amuse or to make herself beloved." When Mile. d'Aubigne", on her return to Poitou, wrote to her young friends in Paris, her letters were passed round as chef s-d? centre, and kept up her growing re- putation. It was about this time she came to know Scarron, the cripple, a man of gay humour, which passed at that time for delicate wit. Surrounded by affectation, Scarron, with his merry, comical style, was as an antidote. He saw Mile. d'Aubigne, and, to hia credit, was at once interested in her. After some 4 MADAME DE MAINTENON. reflection, lie thought that the simplest way of testify- ing this interest, and of aiding her, was to marry her. She consented, giving naively enough her reason : " I prefer to marry him rather than become a nun." She lias never mentioned her poor cripple but with suitable respect and esteem, as a man of integrity, and of a much more kindly disposition than those who judged him only by his sprightly conversation, knew. We find her thus at seventeen (1652), in the earliest bloom of her beauty, the wife of a crippled invalid, her protector rather than her husband, in a circle of society as gay and unscrupulous in conversation as in morals, requiring all her precocious talent and wise and watch- ful sense to enforce consideration and respect from that youthful company of the Fronde. She succeeded, however, and this was her apprenticeship to prudence and circumspection, which was to be the business and the pride of her whole life. Scarron died (1660), and the position of the beautiful widow of twenty-five, with no means, became more precarious, more dangerous, than ever. Let us in fact picture her to ourselves in this early beauty, which Mile, cle Scudery has faithfully described to us : " Lyriane (this is Mme. Scarron, who is represented in Clelie as the wife of the Roman Scaurus), Lyriane was tall, with a splendid figure, but her height was not alarming, simply becoming. Her complexion was very smooth and beautiful, her hair a bright chestnut, very pretty, the nose well formed, the mouth well shaped. Her manner dignified, sweet, bright. and modest ; and, to render her beauty still more strikingly perfect, she had the loveliest eyes in the world. They were black, sparkling, soft, passionate, and full of fun ; there was something I cannot express in their glance : a sweet melancholy appeared in them at times, with its ever present charm ; while playfulness also danced ill them in turn, with all the attraction which happiness inspires." MADAME DE AIAINTENON. 5 All contemporary testimony agrees in regard to that In-nuty, that graceful deportment, that wit, and that 8t rain of playfulness. " All who know her," says the Grand Dictionnaire des Pre'cieuses, " are quite convinced that she is one of the most sprightly persons of Athenes."* And towards the end of her life she describes herself as " gay by nature, and sad from her position." This shows us a side of her character which eeems at the present day to have escaped us, and Avhich the letters of Mine, de Maintenon only hint at. Her letters give us only a glimpse of her inind ; the taste, the high-bred tone, the perfect judgment, and the piquant style are there, but the spirit with which she animated society, the wit so discreetly interspersed in her stories and conversation, and which sparkled so brightly and delicately in her face when she spoke enthusiastically, as Choisy says, all this is lost or un- noticed in her letters. We have only a kind of outline, or engraving, of the wit of Mine, de Mainteuon, with none of the rich colour. A critical moment arrived for Mme. Scarron after the death of her husband, but all her friends hastened to serve her, and succeeded in doing so. She received a pension from the queen-mother, and was able for some, years to enjoy life as she felt inclined. She became one of the Hospitalieres f of the Place Royale, and there she met the best society ; she was constantly at the Hotel d'Albret or the Hotel de Richelieu. Old, and at the height of her glory, she spoke of these years of youth and poverty as the happiest of her life. " All my youth was very pleasant," she said to her maidens of Saiiit-Cyr : " I had no ambition, nor any of those passions which might have disturbed my enjoyment of that vain shadow of * Paris. TRANSLATOR'S NOTE. f A sisterhood for ladies of noble rank. TRANSLATOR'S NOTE. 6 MADAME DE MAINTENON. happiness (worldly happiness) ; for although I have experienced poverty, and passed through conditions very diS'erent to that in which you now see me, I was contented and happy. I knew neither weariness nor chagrin ; I was free. I went to the Hotel d'Albret or to the Hotel de Richelieu, sure of a kind reception, and of finding my friends assembled there, or else of attracting them to my own salon, by warning them that I would remain at home." Was Mine. Scarron able to remain free from all sus- picion of evil during all these long years of widowhood and semi-worldliness 1 Discussion on this subject appears to me mere idle curiosity, and I leave questions of this nature to more daring minds ; it is sufficient for me, and it otight to be enough for all whose aim it is to inquire into the character of an eminent personage, that Mme. de Maintenon preserved on the whole a line of conduct which Avas altogether circumspect and seemly. The most serious evidence we have in her disfavour is an expression 'of her friend Ninon, on the subject of M. de Villarceaux, their common friend ; but in regard to this very insinuation, Ninon admits that she does not know how far things went, and that Mme. Scarron always seemed to her " too awkward for love." Now this soxmds well, nay, is almost a guarantee. The fact is, if we put malice aside, that Mme. Scarron, during these her years of greatest peril, appears never to have been moved by sentiment at all, never to have been excited by the emotions of her heart, and to have been restrained by two curbs which are the strongest of all, namely, her love of consider- ation and esteem, which from her own account was her dominant passion, and her strict and practical religion, from which she never swerved. " I possess," she has said, "a great support in my religion, which prevents me doing evil things, shields me from all frailties, and makes me hate all that might draw scorn upon me." MADAME DE MAINTENON. 7 I can find no reason to doubt her statement, other than the unforeseen circumstances of her life. In these her younger days, the chief trait of her character, and the distinguishing feature of her social position, may be thus denned : she was one of those women, who as soon as they gain a little advantage, have the wit and the cleverness to make such good use of it, that they succeed in every way, simply by making themselves always useful and necessary, and at the same time pleasant and agreeable. No sooner had she the entree of a house than she Avas initiated into all its private arrangements as no one else was, and, by some subtle vocation she possessed, she soon unconsciously, and without having any right to such a position, became the moving power of that household. In fact, intimacy established, \her friends knew no half measures ; she became at once the soul, the charm, the fascination of that house. Such was Mine, de Maintenon among friends like Mme. d'Heudicomt and Mine, de Montchevreuil, at the Hotels d'Albret and Richelieu ; considerate and attentive to every one, and so obligingly kind, that Saint-Simon has very justly observed upon this trait, and has described it to us in his own inimitable way ; for, with all his unjust exaggerations and inaccuracies, we must not ignore the masterly strokes of honest rectitude in what he says of Mme. de Maintenon ; but the explanation he gives of this diligence to please is more harsh than is quite fair, and I would rather judge from what Mme. de Maintenon tells us herself. She represents herself to us (in her correspondence) as indastliooa and active, up at six o'clock every morning, busy with all her different occupations, because she loved them, not from any interested motives ; and in matters concerning her women friends, laying herself 8 MADAME DE MAINTENON. out to oblige them, that she might be loved by them, and distinguished for her amiability, and also from an impulse of self-glorification. "In my tender years," she has said, "I was what people call a good child, everybody loved me ; even my aunt's servants were charmed with me. When I was older, I was placed in various convents : you know how much I was loved there by my teachers and companions, and always for the same reason, because my chief thought from morning to night was of how I could serve them or oblige them. When I lived with that poor cripple, I found myself in the world of fashion, where I was sought after and esteemed. The women loved me because I was gentle in society, and because I was more occupied about others than about myself. . Men waited on me because I had the beauty and the grace of youth. I have had all kinds of experiences, but have always kept ray reputation stainless. The admiration I received was rather a general friendship or esteem than love. I did not desire to be loved by any one in particular ; I wished to be loved by everybody, to be spoken of with admiring respect, to be popular, and especially to be approved of by good people : this was my ideal. " And again, apropos of that restraint which she at all times imposed on herself, and of that subordination of all her inclinations to which she forced her nature : " But that cost me little when I thought of those praises, of that fame, which would be the fruit of my discipline. That was my hobby. I was not concerned about riches ; I was above all thought of self-interest ; I desired honour." This confession gives us the chief key to Mine, de Maintenon's conduct during her early life : active, obliging, insinuating but not vulgar, entering with extreme sensibility into the trials and troubles of her friends, and anxious to aid them, not from pure friend- ship, nor from true sympathy, nor from any principle of tender devotion, but because above everything else she yearned for their good opinion, she of necessity MADAME DE MAINTENON. 9 grasped every likely means to advance herself higher in their esteem : this, at least, is my opinion of her. Material and positive interest always was of secondary consideration in her. eyes, in spite of her straitened circumstances, and was ever subordinate to that other moral interest founded on the esteem in which she was held. She longed to be specially distinguished and admired by those among whom she lived, whoever they were, and desired that it might be said of her : " As a woman, she is unique ! " In this lay all her coquetry, a coquetry of the mind, which with advancing years became to her an ambition, a career. Of an indefatig- able temperament and unwearying patience, yet if one made a demand upon her in any direction touching self-respect and honour, she would accede to that which would have been barely possible to another. When at a later period she had become the most indispensable person at the court of Versailles, the companion of the king, the resource of princes, the person whom no one in all that royal household could ignore for a single moment, she showed herself capable of miraculous self- restraint and forbearance. Wholly occupied with the affairs of those she did not love, she endured her slavery with a smiling grace which never failed. " For twenty-six years," she has said, " I never displayed the slightest impatience at any time." Latterly, through one of those illusions of self-esteem, illusions which are very natural, she imagined her- self endowed with some special gift which fitted her for the new part she had to play, a gift which was but the result, the perfection, and the crown of all the rfiles it had been her fate to perform from her youth up : she regarded her life as a miracle. She had been so often called an Esther, that she believed herself one in reality, destined by Providence to sanctify the king, even to MADAME DE MAINTENON. although she herself should be a martyr. When the ladies of Saint-Cyr pressed her, during her last retreat there, to write her life, she declined, saying, that it would be a story full of marvellous inner experiences, and peculiar traits, " Only saints would be able to find pleasure in reading it." And in expressing herself thus, she really believed that she spoke humbly. But it is not necessary to be a saint in order to find plea- sure in those secrets of the heart which she herself has frankly unveiled. Mine, de Montespan was still the declared mistress of the king when she met Mme. Scarron at the house of Mme. d'Heudicourt, their common friend, and, find- ing her so active, such a devoted friend, so discreet and domesticated, yet with an honourable amount of dignity, she could not help thinking what an inestimable advantage it-would be if she could have her to educate secretly the two illegitimate children she had given to Louis XIV. According to the notions of the time, .such a choice was a species of honour. Mme. Scarron, however, had discernment enough to perceive the dubiousness of the position, and very justly considered the proposal from its correct aspect. " If these children are the king's children," she replied, " I shall be very happy ; I could not without scruple take charge of Mme. de Montespan's children ; so the king must command me, this is all I have to say." The king commanded, and Mme. Scarron became the governess of the mysterious children. Her character is well portrayed in the singular life she lived during these years (1670-72). She took a large isolated house in the neighbourhood of Vaugirard, and, unknown to all her friends, took up her residence there, devoting herself to her precious charges, directing their early education, their diet, acting as housekeeper MADAME DE MA1NTENON. ti and nurse, everything, in fact ; and at the same time keeping up her customs of morning visits to her friend?, as if nothing at all uncommon was going on at the very doors of these fashionable friends ; for at first it was necessary that no one should suspect that there was anything unusual. Gradually, however, the secret began to be less carefully guarded, and the cloud unrolled. The king, who went to see his children, then got to know Mme. Scarron ; but the impression she made on him at first was not favourable. " In the beginning I was very displeasing to the king ; he looked on me as a clever person, to whom it was necessary to speak very learnedly, a most difficult individual in every respect." There had been a time when Mnie. de Montespan had had to make great efforts to break the ice, and to insinuate this chosen friend into the good graces of the king : we can imagine her subsequent bitterness and wrath. Here we might easily exhaust all plausible explana- tions and apologies, but we should never succeed in proving that Mme. de Mainteuon (for by this time she was so styled) did not at a certain period play a double game : installed by Mme. de Montespan, apparently deeply interested in her passion and in all the troubles connected with it, writing to her, even, in March 1678, "The king is returning to you covered with glory, and I am infinitely concerned in your joy;'"' while at the same time she had already conceived projects of personal ambition. Probably she did not all at once entertain the idea of what no imagination could have conjectured : she certainly could never have imagined, even in her own heart, that she would one day become not the secret but the acknowledged wife of the monarch ; she only felt the possibility of being able to exercise great influence over him, and she kept 12 MADAME DE MA INTEND N. tin's aim in view. This extraordinary romance was woven thread by thread, guided by the most patient and adroit skill. As soon as Mme. de Maintenon had gained a footing at court, she began to try to make it appear that she was not made for court life, and that she remained against her inclinations. This was one of her stratagems, one which probably half deceived even herself. In her ever-recurring schemes and threats of retirement, I can find no better comparison for her than M. de Chateaubriand, who, as we know, was always longing to exchange the world for a hermitage, to flee from it back to his American savages. " I would return to America," said Mme. de Maintenon, " if I were not ceaselessly told that God requires me to remain where I am." Her confessor was the Abbe Gobelin, who was clever enough to say to her very early, when indicating to her the place (a nameless place, and not even a vacant one, for the queen still lived) which had to be filled towards Louis XIV., " God wishes you there ! " Mme. de Maintenon was persuaded, and remained, and nothing is more curious than to look at her between the two mistresses of the king (Mme. de Montespan and Mme. de Fontanges), reconciling one, counselling the other ; conciliating, and, without seeming to do so, meddling with their affairs, and undermining them, and all the time (for this was her method, her weak- ness), craving pity for her situation, and continually expressing her wish to retire. Was there ever more skilful tact than this ? Never did a woman's tact affect greater modesty or more refinement. "Nothing is more clever than irreproachable behaviour," Mme. de Maintenon has said, applying the expression to her own conduct. She may congratulate herself and glorify herself as she will, but I shall never call this virtue. MADAME DE MAINTEXOX. 13 In the midst of her own peculiar and interesting affairs, she continued to exercise her characteristic influence. A true, warm-hearted woman would not for a single instant have accepted or endured such a rdle. Mme. de Maintenon spun out these ambiguous interests during many years. "The king has three mistresses," said Mme. de Montespan to her furiously, " myself in name, that girl (Fontanges) in fact, and you in the real affections of his heart." " His Majesty visits me occasionally, but not by my desire ; he retires disconsolate, but never hope- kss," replied Mme. de Maintenon, in her triumphant humility. Or, on another occasion, she said : " I send him away distressed always, but never despairing." This Penelope's web was woven and unwoven continually for about eleven years. Let us try to imagine the skill and invention, the wise discretion, which preserved for such a period the king's attachment, contenting him, yet not extinguishing his passion for her ! If, on a little consideration, we can see in Mme. de Maintenon, this woman of forty-five, the most consum- mate schemer, able so skilfully to carry on an intrigue in which passion and sentiment mingled under a cloak of virtue and religion, we must also recognise the in- tellectual talent she must have used, the conversational charm by which she amused, fascinated, and evaded a king less ardently in love than of old, and who is rather astonished to find himself attracted by a reluctance new to him. When the queen died unexpectedly in 1683, Mme. de Maintenon saw before her a vista of undreamt-of ambition, and she acted in this crisis as judiciously as she had heretofore acted, with prudent calculation disguised by supreme modesty. She was at last married secretly to the king, the date being, it is supposed, 1685. There were three or four persons, 14 MADAME DE MAINTENON. including her confessor, who in private called hej " Your Majesty ; " this satisfied her pride. As regarded all other people, it was sufficient for her, that she was a personage, distinct though not definite, occupying a place apart, respected, and enjoying her greatness, scarcely veiled by the cloud which covered it, conscious of the fulfilment of the marvellous destiny which, as Saint- Simon says, was conspicuous enough under its trans- parent .mystery. Here, as in everything, there was a mixture of glory and modesty, of reality and sacrifice, which suited her well, and was her ideal ambition. In her own words, which express so well her clear understanding, she defines her position on one occasion at Saint-Cyr, when, some one seeing her fatigued from unnecessary exercise, remarked in her presence that she was not careful enough of herself, did not comport herself as other great ladies : " That is because I am not great," she said ; " I am only exalted." Among the many portraits of Mme. de Maintenon, the one in my opinion which gives us the best idea of her in that last studied attitude of veiled greatness, is a portrait [No. 2258] which may be seen at Versailles, in one of the Queen's apartments. She is more than fifty, dressed in black, still beautiful, grave, and moderately stout, her high and noble forehead shaded by a veil. Her eyes are large and almond-shaped, very expressive, and wonderfully sweet. The nose is well formed and pleasing ; the slightly dilated nostril indicates strength of mind. The still fresh mouth is small and gracious, and the chin, almost a double chin, well rounded. The sombre dress is just lightened by a drapery of white lace on the arms and shoulders. A high stomacher hides the neck. Such was Mme. de Maintenon, almost a queen, imposing, yet modest and self-restrained, she who has said of herself : " My condition never MADAME DE MAINTENON: 15 shows me its brilliant aspect, but always its dark and painful side." In that exalted position, \vhat service has Mme. de Maintenon rendered to Louis XIV. or to France ? To France, none if we except the day that she re- quested Kacine to write a sacred play for Saint-Cyr.* To Louis XIV. himself she rendered the service of weaning him from love intrigues which age would have made discreditable ; she interested herself in every- thing she considered necessary for his best welfare : BO far as human being could, she filled his time, amused him, and, as far as circumstances would allow, she pro- vided hourly occupation for him ; once admitted into the royal family circle, she displayed with even increased energy and exactitude that inexhaustible adaptability which, as a younger woman, had made her so useful to the Montchevreuils, the Heudicourts, and the Riche- lieus. She was indispensable in every difficulty, advising, consoling, always accessible and pleasant, in that royal home, amid all afflictions, amid all State affairs. This, rather than any political part, was the influence she wielded, although she may have inter- meddled too much once or twice when family interests clashed, as in the preferment of the Due du Maine. We know that Louis XIV. was possessed of sound judgment ; but, as he advanced in yeare, that justice remained but inactive, un inventive, and was exercised only iu affairs submitted to him, and according to the terms in which these matters were laid before him on the Council table ; he took no trouble to search into affairs. Mme. de Maintenon, equally just, was also equally circumscribed ; her interests were con- fined to social matters, or things of a purely private or family nature, she neither saw nor prognosticated * Esther. TR, 1 6 MADAME DE MAINTENON. outside things. To sum up, neither of them was large- minded ; they observed little outside the bounds of their own horizon, and the consequence was, that this horizon contracting with advancing years, this king, with all his sound judgment, committed many mistakes, which this woman of equal rectitude allowed him to commit, nay, even approved. Mine, de Maintenon's judgment was quite propor- tionate to the king's ; but his judgment inclined to the sombre side, whilst hers took the more cheerful view. Did she love Louis XIV. ? It would be cruel to raise any absolute doubt on this point. It seems, how- ever, that of the two, he loved her the most, or, at all events, she was the more necessary to him. Dying, and when he had lost consciousness, we know that she withdrew before he had ceased to breathe ; but, before leaving the expiring king, she desired, her confessor to see him, and to tell her if there was any hope of his regaining consciousness. " You may depart," said the confessor ; " you are no longer necessary to him." She believed him, and obeyed, immediately leaving Versailles for Saint-Cyr. This act, for which she has been blamed, proves one thing only, that she was a woman, who, in such a moment of supreme separation, trusted the advice of her confessor rather than the prompting of her own heart. Never for one moment in her whole life did Mine, de Maintenon lose control of her heart ; there lies the' secret of that certain degree of indiffer- ence she inspires. Her nature was altogether un- sympathetic. We admit that, during her long life, in the midst of all the secret satisfactions to her self-love, she was constantly required to suffer, to restrain her wishes. The descriptions she has given us of the almost slavish tortures she was called upon to endure, MADAME DE MAINTENON. 17 in the midst of all her grandeur, are true pictures, nn